Approached creating this ode quite guiltily… My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary… I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily… For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me, If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky… So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency! Will it get boos? Or be received gladly? Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…
Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency, I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally. Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three… Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky, And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while, Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!
It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!
I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing… Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering, My previous determination started withering… Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling, The whole incident was depressing and galling! I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling… I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?
Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!
It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today, This cheered me up, I have to say… I lost all signs of acting acidulously… Lovely gal, pretty and chatty, I began to feel once again, altruistically, I hope she comes again on Sunday!
Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.
Diary Saturday 14th May 2022
05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.
I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.
Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.
Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?
Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…
As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!
It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!
I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥
On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.
The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!
Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…
I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.
The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!
I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.
Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!
‘Tis not just the ending of civility and decency… Nor the gallantry, gentleness and long gone chivalry, That annoys and really seems to get to me, Why bother, you said; you’ll soon be just history…
Good question! My reading of mankind’s history… To me, human actions past and now… are a mystery! Not that I believe all I read, certainly! Nothing in the annuls is a certainty!
Human tellurians all lie and cheat to gain a better destiny… Mostly to gain power, be the top dog, with greed for money, Wanting to put nowt into the pie…but enjoying the honey, Smiling at the opportunity for profit via anything phoney!
They’ll pretend to be doing their helpful duty, But we know that it’s all on the QT… But knowing we also fail in our duty… Some even think that life is game and cutsie!
No rent to pay, they steal from their old Auntie, The wine and dine while she has chip buttie… The gals go the lads and the lads for tottie… I think I’m losing the point of this dittie?
You do that when you’ve got Doreen Dementia, a pity… Yet still, I try to create summat funny and witty… Well, not often, but I still have the edacity… If even a swell, the blooming audacity!
Recalling what I going to write is beyond doability! My memory pad notes show indecipherability… My nerve ends sends the brain messages… insufficiently, They get orders back and jerk, jump obediently…
The right leg and arm flail, I may fall, it’s all a farcicality, Gone on for ages now, so I have a familiarity… It all affects my confidence and fatiguability… The Doctors say any treatment is beyond feasibility!
Then there are other ailments, mental and rheumaticky, They can be as risky, painful and tricky… Like the fungal lesion bleeding on my dickie! But, I must not moan and be nitpicky… I just hope you find this ode a little bit witty!
Thursday 12th May 2022
Nocturnally, I shared the night with Colin Cramps again. His favourite targets were the right leg, left hand, right shoulder and side of the neck.
I lay a while, wondering if I could get back to sleep… but the need for a wee-wee arose, and I disentangled by my mastodonic-sized, wobbly epigastrium and torso’d body from the recliner.
As I was doing the balance exercises, I plopped backwards and ended up in the recliner again. I instantly felt the warm wet sensation from Little Inchies Fungal Lesions! Oh, Clump!
Grabbed metal Mickey and off to the wet room. Bit of a mess made of things, and the pain was pretty bad; cleaning things up and medicating them. On the bright side, (there always is one, you just have to find it, Hehe!). However, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding from the fall. Had a wee-wee.
I washed and went to the kitchenette to make a tea brew but forgot to take it with me to the computer, which I found later. Tsk!
I booted the machine up and thought I’d try to get the photos on from yesterday. And after setting up today’s template, I tried my luck. At first, there was no usual response from the SD reader or computer. I spent a while swapping and moving the card in hope… then remembered the mug of Glengettie I’d left in the kitchen. Made another mugful.
Back to the computer, but the tea still did not get drunk. To my surprise, the card was recognised. So I got them in ASAP before the computer changed its mind.
I was nervously on tenterhooks all the time, trying to rush but not dislodge the card and get each photo onto CorelDraw to touch up. (I don’t so much of that nowadays, you know, touching up. Hehehe! This on the right is a photo of the Spirit vinegar delivered yesterday.
Sphygmomanometerisationing results in Blood Pressure. SYS 149. DIA 72, and the pulse was at 79bpm. Which looked fair enough to me.
The Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, gave as good a reading as ever, at 34.8°c, another bit of good fortune there!
Later on last night, I had to get up from the recliner, rather grumpily (Yes, me grumpy, hard to believe, I know!) to get some more Phorpain gel to rub in the cramp ridden hands and legs.
I was glad that I did now. The ever later sunset was bootiful! What a hue!
Young Richard, the carer, arrived. He didn’t look too good. So I plied him with some of his favourite goodies. In a rush to get home, and I can’t blame him. Not sure if he’s due tomorrow or not. I think so.
A picture here from yesterday; I think so, anyway.
My favourite puffer clouds were out on display. I couldn’t see any figures or faces in them like we did yesterday, mind you.
An hour or two of doing the Ode for yesterday’s blog, the gurgling from within advised me to make my way to the Porcelain Throne. Which I did! I reckon the Trotsky Terence is about to take control in the rear-end evacuation department.
Pressed on with the blogging again, it’s taking all my time, but I like it! As Dick Emery used to say.
After the rain stopped, I nipped out on the balcony to take a photo of the end of the Chestnut Way car parking antics. The roadway on the corner at the end of the tower block was in a state! Mud had torrented down from Woodthorpe Grange Park and made a right mess for the poor old drivers to get through to get to their cars. Although the Red-Van-Man was okay, being parked on the yellow no parking chevrons, as usual.
.The right hand did a little finger manipulating on its own accord again this morning.
I go so far with the blog and am in a quandary about getting the ablutions done. I’ll explain; I think the Wilko order is due today. Deana might come with a Council lady with the spare key. So, if I go into the wet room, I’ll not hear the door chime. Even if I did, would I get to the door in time? I suppose this means I’ll have to stay dirty? Then be forced to stay up late to get the job done, then?
Still, he can’t get a signal to Nottingham to work!
Came good and early. Soon got me sorted. I did drop a beta-blocker… no, a Codeine when taking the medications, but I was lucky enough to spot it on the carpet. She took the waste bag with her on departing. I fang you!
Resigned to no internet availability from Fries again.
Got a nosh sorted out. Fishcakes with peas in them, potato lumps. Two mini cakes and a horrible lemon cheesecake. Taste: 6.5/10.
Went to do the washing up and tool this snap from the kitchen window. It looks like a microscope view of some bacteria. Hehe! Not one of my better efforts.
I phoned Jenny and Jillie for a natter about nothing. For once, Sweet Morpheus let me join him in slumber a little sooner than usual tonight. And only a few waking ups!
It’s going to be a messy day, says my EQ… Most of the time, what says comes true, Ignore him, and Accifauxpas will be due, Whoopsiedangleplops, & tumbles, too… Not to mention frustration coming to you!
Below are the details of the day that did accrue… Although it is only a short, confusing review, Peripheral Neuropathy troubles, what can I do? A Facebook message from Timbuktu… Virgin Internet down again – Boo-boo!
My anger at the above, I must subdue… It got me in a pickle and nervous stew! My concentration flailed, then flew… I suppose, at least in the long view… Another cock-up, Accifauxpas, is due?
Diary Of Woe
I recovered consciousness at 06:00hrs. No messing about, I rose and caught my balance. I went to get the kettle on, sorted the waste bags, had a wee-wee, then a wash, dressed and made a brew of Glengettie.
So much I had planned to do as well. Bitterly disappointed! I sent painful death wishes through the ether for Herr Fries… well, I can hope! Why? Jealousy and not believing the scumball who cannot a Virgin Media internet signal to Nottingham. Thus, making my life so difficult. Here is what my research found out are the other reason I hate the git to bits: Michael Fries: The estimated Net Worth of Michael T Fries is at least 184 Million dollars as of 1 May 2022. Mr Fries owns over 215,799 units of Liberty Global plc stock worth over $38,181,312, and over the last 9 years, he sold LBTYK stock worth over $22,634,655. In addition, he makes $123,254,000 as Vice Chairman of the Board, President, and Chief Executive Officer at Liberty Global plc. So, you can see why I’m pissed off and jealous?
I pondered on Fries’ nature and outlook. His traits came to mind; Lucre, payoffs, smoke & mirrors, profit, gelt, money, and incapabilities to run Virgin Media with any reliability. A few others came to me… deception, flimflam, hocus-pocus. Illusion, legerdemain, and under-handed professional prestidigitation? I think I’m close.
I can’t load photos, save anything, update yesterday’s blog, or titivate the News Snippets blog. Grrr! If I get any later, I’ll try to get them on. Otherwise, they will have to wait for the pleasure of the computer and SD reader another day.
Having to make a start on this blog using the Windows Notepad. Which does not have formatting to use, so when… silly me… IF the pathetic Liberty-Global Internet ever comes back on, it will take three times as long to get the post from here to the blog – cause it will need formatting again once in there. I’ve just sent another wish through the ether, urging Herr Fries testicles to rot and go gradually, inchmeal, agonisingly putrid.
Half an hour later, I tried to save again, feeling that it would be a waste of time… but I tried it; The New Post button clicked, and Oh, so slowly, the pixelating page came on… I’ll try again… Aha! Well done, Virgin Media, it’s back on… no idea how long for… Back to updating the last diary.
Carer Richard arrived as I was making a brew of Extra Strong tea. I was in the kitchen and did not hear the door chime? And I’d put some olive oil in the ears earlier? The lad looked shattered, and he had another visit to make yet. So I didn’t keep him for too long. I forewent the chatting. Gave him some bits to take home, adding a Tango iced lolly as he left; he likes them. He’s got to start a shift again tonight, as well.
The photos are loaded! Why suddenly? I know not, but I’m just glad they did. (Later, it froze again, so pictures will be missing, Grumph!) I got those that got on into the hard drive. Took a while and a lot of hassle.
As I was putting the SD card back in the camera, I realised that dying neurotransmitters that come with Peripheral Neuropathy had taken over the fingers in my right hand.
Blogging away and the door-chime rang out. It was Amazon with the Distilled vinegar. It’s been that long now; I’d forgotten I’d ordered it.
Got the second blog finished and posted. The time is flashing by now. Blogging on…
I called Warden Deana and asked about the TV licence and door key, which were paid for and ordered three weeks ago. She said she’d be up to see me later.
Blogging, it is getting harder to concentrate now. Herbert was on form again with his noise making.
I blogged on slowly now… Went to make a brew, and Warden Deana arrived. She had the receipt for the TV licence. She texted someone about the lack of the new spare key arriving. No reply. She’ll try again later and let me know.
I took a break from blogging and opened the box with the 5litre plastic bottle of distilled vinegar. The cardboard on the box was covered in plastic tape. I’m glad nobody was listening to me as I did it… There was a little cursing taking place. Hehe! I think it might have taken half a tree to make that box. It took me over an hour to dismantle it. It came close to a cut finger or knuckle a few times, but I managed it without losing any blood… got a few bruises, mind.
Blogging again and trying to get the photos loaded… Huh!
Blimus! It’s 17:25hrs already! I’ll turn off the computer and let it cool down while I make something to eat. Then, all being well, I’ll try to load the photographs again… but I may fall asleep instead… possibly burning the meal as well…
Got the nosh eaten, well I say nosh… I was so uptight and tired; I had two little cakes and an iced lolly. Tsk! Then tried to upload the photos again… Nope! Hopefully, they’ll get into tomorrow’s blog; of course, I’ll have forgotten where, why, and when most of them were taken.
Carer Valerie arrived as I washed the pots, cups, and plastic plates. Hehe! Had a mini-natter, but it was hard work with my eyes and ears so bad. She was treated to nibbles of her choice, and off she went with my thanks.
Had a wash and got stripped off and onto the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, gungy beige coloured, not-working, c1968 recliner, in search of sleep.
But, would it come? No! Despite my body ‘leaving much to be desired,’ mind telling me I needed to sleep! It was not to be! Even the trick of putting on the TV, which usually assures me of nodding off during the advert break, failed to help. I did have a couple of dropping-off’s, but they were only for a few seconds, followed by disturbing jumps awake to find myself talking? I can’t say that I’ve noticed that before?
After the last of the springing awakes and mutterings, I noticed that the news was showing on the telly. The eleven o’clock news, and thought, well, I’ll watch this. And Zzzz!
Whoever thought that we would end up batty? Or slowly, our body will end up so fatty? And for Sunday dinner, have a bacon buttie? Alone, we sit here, not too far from the portapotty… Fighting off the Thought Storms, recalcitrantly!
See a youngster injure, and enjoy our epicaricacy! Getting depressed as we realise life’s now an atrocity! Stuck in a three-roomed flat, full of self ethnocentricity! Wondering how you’re to pay for this month’s electricity! Can we blame it on Dementia or our quaint eccentricity?
Of course, misery holds no exclusivity, We won’t recognise our own depravity… Yet recall a time when we had debauchery… Whatever anyone says, we reply with dubiosity!
No fight left; what happened to our audacity? Now incapable of shoeing any voracity… And how we drank and ate: It was pure gluttony, Happy now, with two biscuits for a meal, no edacity… And, how come the peeing has lost all its velocity?
My adiposity, obesity, and rotundity, cause animosity! You try in the morning to be gritty… the day ends up shitty! Give folks a good morning, trying to be neighbourly… In return, you get dagger eyes with venom and toxicity! Still, it’ll happen; make the best of it… although it’s a pity!
DIARY OF WOE – FRIDAY
On around the eighth time of jumping awake, and sleep was only for four hours, the annoying tingling from the bladder forced me up and out of the c1968 recliner and over to the grey overnight bucket for a wee-wee. I don’t know why I bothered; I think I’ve got another infection in the waterworks, it took ages to evacuate, and then it was painful and barely a trickle!
I opted to get a stand-up wash at the sink, teggies, and shaving sorted. There was a degree of forcing myself, for a very rare urge to get my head down again had to be fought off!
Not an easy struggle, but I won it with a bit of help from stubbing my toe against the electric stand-up airer’s leg… again! I often wonder if there is a built-in foot attractor in the pipes?
I made a start on the graphic for the Crowell Manor blog. And, along came Carer Richard arrived. And after giving me the medications, he set about checking all the dates on the foods in the fridge. I think it was eight out-of-date items. Humph! Good on him! He will review the cupboards next Thursday when he returns from his holiday.
(I started this blog, but not until Saturday, so no memories to use) Many of my notes for this blog became unreadable due to my stupidity in a rush to record them. Squiggles are too small to read! I’ll skip any that I’m unsure about and just copy those I can understand, so it may be a short double-diary from here on in for both Friday and Saturday… Sorry.
Shit comes to mind as a suitable explanatory word of how I felt! Got some photo’s uploaded on the first try! YES! I thought it might have cured itself, but it was back to hit and miss, with many more misses than hits to the later ones! It got even worse later on…
Liberty-Global and Virgin Media went down several times. It was highly annoying and frustrating. But did I let it get to me? Yes, I did!
Crap Service, crap lying company, and it should be… never mind!
15:10hrs, I got the blog finished and posted off.
INR DVT nurse came.No, honestly! I think I may be in love here again… Hahaha! I should imagine that my being 62 years older than she is, a good foot shorter, I’m carrying a few stones more than I should – and wobbly at that, having Vascular Dementia, being deaf partially and blind, my hopes are not exactly optimistic. But somewhere in the ether lingers the tiniest bit of hope..!
Apparently, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down three times in an hour! I read more on my memory pad cause I was so angry, I pressed on the pen harder!
I was struggling to get the photos onto CorelDraw, and while trying to sort it out, Neuropathy Pete kicked off, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters sent the right arm and leg all over the place. I ended up with an entirely changed screen layout and four different messages on screen that I had no idea what they meant! I could not access the controls! I was buggered! So, I stopped, turned everything off in the proper order, and prayed that the screen would come back right when I rebooted.
Couldn’t get any photos to load at all!
DIARY OF WOE – SATURDAY
HERE WE GO… TRY AGAIN
Up until the early morning hours, trying to get the photos on the system, no luck, so I got my head down. Bursting awake at 06:30hrs, after four hours of kip. Panicked a little, in case I had not heard the Carer coming; they sometimes call at 06:00hrs… then realised that if they had been, I would have heard the loud ♫Oh Susana♫ tune, even if I was sleep… or would I?
I was a bit of a mental wreck, worried about not being able to get the photos on the blog… had I missed the Carer, though? Wee-wee, a mug of Glengettie, and sorted through the potatoes to salvage any that could be able to be ‘desprouted’ enough to use. Not many passed the test, but enough for tonight’s meal. Hehe!
I took a few photos during the day, but I failed on all three tries to get them onto the computer. Things are looking bleak!
The evacuated product was a little on the firm side. Constipation Konrad taking control, I bet the next visit will either be a rock-solid, bloody, painful affair. Or, of course, it could catch me out with a reversal and be a smelly, semi-liquid, messy outcome. Tsk! This is one of one’s little pleasures in older life, not knowing what to expect!
Carer arrived. Carol was a sweetheart and always ready for a laugh and natter, even when, like today and she was busy. ♥ I did the Health Checks. Later, Carer Valerie came with some things she said had been found in the washing machine, only dish clothes, but none were mine. I’ll mention it to her when she calls again; nice of her to bring them anyway.
I got the Crowell Manor Laboratory blog finished and sent off to WordPress. Then started this one, hoping that the belated photos might get on the computer Sunday for another rescued photographs blog. Hahaha!
I seemed to get further and further behind with everything today. I did get Facebooking, WP comments replied to… all to the accompaniment of Herberts clunk-clunking, noises like dropped stuff, and an occasional tap-tap-thud.
.Mind-blanks, dizzies and no rest, as I kept on trying to get the blogging done. (I finished this one Sunday morning at about 11:00hrs. I needed to concentrate on getting Josie’s meal prepared and served up by then. So as I speak (well, type), 13:50hrs, the blog has still not been posted.) There’s no time to go one WordPress Reader; I’ll have to find time somehow on Sunday.
Worra Life, Innit?
As one ages; faculties fail… and you feel like a misfit, You can’t get out, remember owt, or get credit… Sex is barely a memory… and that’s dying. Dagnabbit! These are things you’ll live with, cohabit…
A teddy bear, embarrassment at your fleapit… Ailments galore, memories of once being fit, Summat else, bleeding when you go for a shit Names, using, thingamabob & whatchamacallit,
Your once handsome features, now so decrepit, Putting up with name-calling, like a half-wit, & nitwit, Desires dying, loins failing, I can’t be any more explicit, The advantages of Brexit… all a load of bullshit!
I seem to have carried on from yesterday’s hospital visit and afterwards; the pathetic cock-ups, Embarrassments and Whoopsiedangleploppings, and the brain is refusing to do as I ask or want! Dementia Doreen is undoubtedly playing her part. In fact: today, she’s been a lot worse than she was on Tuesday. Considering that she got me lost twice in the hospital, and I then lost the ambulance man! The worst thing was my welcoming the evening Carer with no trousers on. I got so far behind that I had to limit the content a smidge and cut it short in places. Cheers! Enough of my moaning… no doubt more will follow. (It was all different in the end, I was up for over 23hrs, but not in good condition mentally or physically. Hahaha!) Not much sleep again.
I think I need help of some sort. Let the Diary beginneth…
Inchcock Today: Thursday 5th May 2022
06:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life and worked out that although with many waking ups and nodding offs, I’d reckon I’d had a good four hours of sleep. I forced my wobbly bodied torso from the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner to have a wee-wee. This was a frustratingly drip-drip affair, which still gave me a load of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).
Washed, sorted the bin bags, and readied them near the door. Made up Carer Richard’s bag. And made a start on finishing the blog on Wednesday blog updating. A cruelly slow job!
My Carer Richard arrived, looking tired out, poor lad. He patiently listened to my moans, complaints, and groans. A bit vague of things then… until the Iceland food order arrived…The delivery chap left the bags in the doorway; I offered him a tipple as thanks (Cider opted for) and got the carriers one at a time into the kitchenette. It seems that I had overdone the kitchen towels again… I’ve not got the foggiest idea why I do this, you know. I bet there was a good one when I ordered them, Humph! I got them sorted, wondering why I’d bought so many paper towels and wondered if they were on offer, but I did not know. There are no invoices with the deliveries nowadays. And the costs had risen sharply!
I got the veggie pasties out to eat later, and they had frosted over with my taking them out of the box last week to make more room in the freezer. I recall Richard warning me about this happening, and he was right. So I ditched them and some fish fingers and fishcakes that had gone the same way. Ah, well, that will not happen again, I hope. Now that Richard has bought me the freezer bags to sue next time bless the lad.
Did some more updating on the computer, but it took far too long, with the fingers shaking and nerve ends not working, Dementia Doreen, and the occasional vicious Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s outbursts – had created too much wasted time in having to correct mistakes that I’d made. Sometimes it was a job finding out how or what I’d done to get into the messes I did!
Received a call from the Ophthalmology Department at the Queens Medical Centre EENT. Told me that they would be calling me sometime over the next four days to advise me on the outcome of the third assessment and whether the referral for the Cataract surgery would be accepted. I asked if they could possibly Email me instead, but that seemed a no-no.
I rang Warden and desk-top dancer Deana. Explaining my having to stay in and why. Then begged her to come a get her nibbles and would she be kind enough to take the treats to Jenny, Frank and Norah for me. She said yes, bless her cotton socks.
Updated the blog again, and I wrote an ode for it at the end. As Warden Deana arrived, bless her. She was proper up to the neck in it this morning, too! Kind of her to take the bits to Jennie and Norah for me ♥.
At long last, I got the blog done and posted off to WordPress.
Not a single visit to the Porcelain Throne yet? And only three weak unwilling wee-wees all day, and it’s well into the afternoon now!
He was on and off with the banging this morning, then a break, and now he’s back again, constant tap-tapping with the odd clattering bout. Tsk!
Then an: I went into the kitchenette to make a brew of Glengettie, dropped the milk bottle, and stubbed my toe to get the mop and bucket from the wet room to clean things up! A bruised shoulder from on the doorframe on the way out. Of course, I just laughed it off; I wasn’t bothered in the slightest...
Well, well, well!… The Blood Pressure results came out nicely; at SYS 122 DIA 57 and the pulse at 77bpm. I was well-pleased pleased with those readings. Which really were much betterer. Phenomenal! Moved on to the body temperature. Another decent result here, too! Giving a 33.5°c, only 1.25°c from the target level. Thank you!
Found some lost sky photos. Put them on here on the left. Nice!
I was not entirely Compos-Mentis, yet, the brain was a little hazy. So I decided to check with the Google Calendar to look at any entries that may need attention…
A few items certainly needed to be logged in the grey cells by gum. Being reminded of the Morrison order, Joe the window cleaner, and the DVT Warfarin INR blood test, all coming my way this Thursday! Grobbleturds! I bet I get something wrong, forget summat, or lose track and wander off into Foggy-Land, at some time? Hahaha!
Got back to updating Wednesday’s blog. But not for long.
My friendly window cleaner, Joe, arrived, who, despite my checking of his visit on my Google Calendar, I had forgotten about! This launched me into one of my boring ‘Telling my troubles’ sessions, which I think Joe enjoyed oddly enough. For there were many laughs and smiles distributed among us. Hahaha! I dug around and found some cash to pay him.
The Amazon shopper arrived and rang the intercom. But I could not hear it at all, although the infamous was banging about up in his flat… again!!! I was lucky enough to have to go to the WC for a wee-wee and saw the light on the panel was lit. Also, the man was patient enough to try again after the timer had stopped things.
I thanked him and offered a can of his choice in thanks. I think he went for the Woo-Woo can. I got the bags into the kitchen, and there were a good few and some heavy ones. I’d stocked up on the treat cans before they go up in price again! I’d also got as many cans of the Chilli Con Carni as they would let me.
The cupboards were looking fullish again now. It took me ages to get the things sorted; unsurprising how many there were. But I even got that wrong and had to move stuff from the wrong places to the right ones – getting fed up with myself again. I was struggling to concentrate just like yesterday? It must have taken me over an hour to get the job done.
I was pleased to get back to blogging, no matter how slow I was doing with it. Such a busy day, and interruptions all the time. This means when I get back to the computer, Doreen Dementia has stolen some memories of where I was up to, what I was going to do, and needed to do… I’ve already found a timing error, items out of chronological sync! I’ll leave them now. As I write these words, it is already past 22:00hrs, so another sleepless night? Humph!
Next, a beautiful patient laughed at my jokes, haematology nurse arrived to take blood for the INR DVT Warfarin test. I didn’t mind being disturbed by her. When she came close to me to dig the needle in, she told me my nose was bleeding. (I think it was because of when I hit the doorframe yesterday with my chin and nose, Tsk!) Hehe!
But DD (Doreen Dementia) would not let me remember it at that time. I had no idea it was bleeding. I got a tissue, and only a few spots were on the kitchen towel. We had a natter while she inspected the Enoxaparin loaded hypos use-by dates. However, she inquired how you manage to inject needles in your tummy four times a day while shaking and wobbling like you do. I explained that the INR level has been so good for the past month that I’ve not had to do it. I had to practically insist she took a can in thanks with her.
I think that she may well have taken to my sense of humour, good looks, flowing locks, taut body, witticisms and youthful, masculine, muscled, young, vibrant body… Well… or not, like! Har-Har!
I took a photo of the darkening sky from the kitchenette window, and I dropped the camera on the floor!. Wot a clot! Still, it seems to be working, which is more than can be said about me. Will I ever get the blog finished? I tried again…
The ♫Oh, Susanna♫ tune came from the front door. It took me a while to get there, to find this box on the left near the door. Ah, the bowels/basins from Amazon? I’d ordered them to replace the ones that Josie had broken, so I got plastic-porcelain ones and these enamel ones. The enamelled ones, they were all made in China, of course. I got the enamelled ones, cause the advert said they will keep the food hotter for longer. I got three of these for Sister Jane as well. The problem with them is that each bowl has a sticker with Chinese writing; it didn’t matter if it was too small to read; I’d not have understood it even if I could.
The ‘Clanger’ about them is that the glue stays firmly stuck to the metal! So, another hour or so lost trying to clean off the glue! Then I could not get it all off, but I’d scratched the gloss trying to! What a waste of time!
I rang Sister Jane, we’ve not spoken for a while now, to tell her about the dishes. We had a delightful chinwagging session for ages, but I enjoyed it. For ages, the thought of never getting the blog finished got to me afterwards. We nattered about many things, and both agreed that the way old folks are spoken to by some medical personages is getting worse lately. That prompted a tale from each of us; Hahaha!
I gave up with bowls. And made up a bottle of Spring Water with some orange juice, then took this photographicalisation of the changed sky view.
Cleaned up and got the box’s cut up, all ready to go to the chute later or in the morning. The landline flashed! It was Esther asking how I went on at the hospital. She’s calling to see me on Tuesday, that was nice of her.
Then on the blogging, and again…
The Landline chirped and flashed again; Gawd, I’m popular today? It was Ethel from the QMC DVT Warfarin Clinic. Giving me the new dosages for Warfarin. The INR level was spot-on the button… that’s twice on the trot now, after years of never attaining it! The nurse had told her of my nosebleed, and I mentioned my walking into the door frame… I think she would have been laughing over there at this time. She’s a cheerful character. I’ve not seen her for years now. When (if) I go to have cataracts done, I’ll nip in to see her… that’s if I can see at all. Har-har-har!
I got the nosh on, and I did some work here while it cooked for 30-minutes. Pots, tomatoes, peas and veggie pasties. The pasties were Gregg’s, the meat substitute was not very nice, but the vegan pastry was delicious. Taste: 6.5/10.
Washed the tray and utensils, and along came Carer Natalie. I’m pleased to report that I had some trousers on for this visit (Fool!)
Ode To The Day
Lots of other stuff, good & bad, ‘appened today… Dementia Doreen lets lots of them get away! Bit, I expect this; often, I accept it almost casually… Cause there’s summat worse, causes me to worry, That may also be due to Doreen, alackaday!
Memory Maureen forgets, not always straight away… Doreen installs her daily brain-storms melee… Some thought I’d like to keep others to shoo-away, Usually, the nasty Thoughts stay, as they did today… Pleasant Thoughts always seem to keep well away!
I’ve many mental & physical ailments, and they stay! So everything I need to do takes longer each day… I’ve become a hoarder, who can’t throw anything away, Not short-term memories, of course, or clamjamfry… Fears, embarrassments, and shame flourished today!
Didn’t start this blog until well-gone midday… Carers, nurses, cleaners, deliveries this Thursday, I was awake from 04:00hrs until past midnight, I say! Concentration was replaced by tomfoolery and complacency… Time, dates, ideas, and fears, were in constant disarray!
I think it’s next Tuesday, my next pension day… Price-Rises, rent, power, rates, insurance, even pasta! Everything foodwise cost me much more today… Price of desserts and drinks, a 20% increase… Nasty!
My life is becoming confusing and delusionary! Gone are days of joy, contentment and the odd jamboree, Are Dementia Doreen’s influences really necessary? I suppose they have sort of become customary? Either way, she can be so bloody cruel and scary!
Got lost twice, forgot I’d got no trousers on… Oh, dearie me!
A Tale of Inchcock’s Day(Five Hours), Out on Tuesday
After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself.
But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! I felt almost reborn… not the proper terminology, but close.
I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.
Naturally, something had to go wrong after that wonderful start to the day. Gragnangles! I sorted out suitable things to wear, got the risky job done first, and put the diabetic bamboo socks on. The comfortable-wearing long ones.
But I had to use Sock-Glide-Glenda. True to form, I trapped my fingers twice, the same ones, of course, on each sock. That thick plastic gripper is deadly! I got a welt and a couple of bruises as well. But this did not put me off cause I intended to do my best to get the go-ahead with cataract operations, and after a couple of mild oaths, I carried on and went to gather the other needs of the morning.
Comfortable shoes, trousers, jumper, and the sleeveless jacket with all the pockets in it. It’s lasted a long time this one, I said to myself, as I got the camera (not much chance to use it though, Tsk!) and emptied the pockets to place the needed items for the trip…
Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).
The entire lining had seemed to go rotten! Only one of the twelve pockets was useable! Undeterred, I limped into the hallway to see if those hanging up had fared better. Two of them had not, and they joined the blue one in the extra-large bin bag! Humph! I checked the khaki one’s pockets. All seemed okay, so I swapped the emptied contents in that jacket. Got the PP’s, trousers and best jumper on.
I realised that Carer Richard was due shortly, so I thought I’d better check I’d not left anything on the floor in the hallway for him to trip over; he’s a good lad.
Guess what? In my haste, I stubbed my toe on the towel airer, lost balance, and was entangled with the tipped-over airer and towel on the floor! With new welts on various parts of my knee, head and face! Unglefrogwonglingisations! I later found that I’d broken a tooth as well. My spirits were getting a little lower than they were earlier. Cor, blimey!
I worked on finishing the blog, and the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune belted out from the doorbell. I expected to see Richard come in, but no! Another… I’d not unlocked the door!!! So all that pain and hassle was for nothing! I had left some stuff on the floor on the plus side and was pleased to move them if Richard did a Whoopsie of his own on them.
I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!
I finished changing and was ready for when the lift arrived to get me to the ophthalmology clinic.
The door chime rang again; the door was unlocked, but whoever it was didn’t come in. It was Josie returning her dish and tray from her Sunday lunch. She did not say she liked it… Oh, dear! At least she didn’t say there was something she didn’t like about it?
The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.
I made my way out of the apartment and down and out through the main lobby. Two ambulance men? Perhaps they’d heard stories about me? Hahaha!
The journey was uncomfortable, but all of the old ambulances I’ve been in were. So I anticipated it.
When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the ophthalmology department waiting room.
Then took me to the waiting area. I could not hear anything the receptionist said, and one of the men translated for me. I realised then that I’d not put the crossword book in the coat or walker trolley. Shame that, cause it’s the only book I can read the clues on at the moment.
So I sat there, nosing at all around me. Bored rigid! But it didn’t take long for a lovely, attractive young lady to call my name out – but I didn’t hear it at first, and the gal took the bother to come and ask me, Hehe!
She led me to a small room with many machines for an ophthalmology-specific procedure. The blast in the eyes and many tests were patiently done on the beads. Deep family history was gone into, and about an hour later, I was returned to the waiting area to await being called by the Ophthalmologist.
During my wait to be summoned, I learned a lot, such as the lady in a cream coat is having smoked haddock for supper tonight. The man and woman and an elderly pair do not like the TV cookery programmes other than Gordon Ramsay’s. A lady in a uniform but not a nurse or medical one was annoyed when someone phoned her. I could not hear the other natterings, the acoustics are not good in a big hall. Hehe!
The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.
With Peripheral Neuropathy, I had trouble keeping my chin on the plastic thingamabob and had to look up all the time. The lady was not impressed or amused. She had to keep starting whatever she was doing again. I don’t think I was very popular at all. I did explain my conditions when I went in.
The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.
I guesstimated about an hour later, and she gave me her diagnosis. Cataracts in the right eye only would be done; although you have cataracts in that left eye, they are not as bad as the right one. We’ll see how you are going with it when this operation is done before tackling glaucoma. She will refer me to the surgeon, 12-week an average waiting time.
During my appointment, she’d noticed Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and my right-leg dance. She was concerned because of the delicate nature of the operation. Even seeing in one eye sees is better than none. It can only be done with no movement from the patient at all! This doesn’t bode well! Nevertheless, I was ticked pink at it going ahead.
I was told to go to the main reception to arrange a lift home. I didn’t expect a lift back, so I was even more gee’d up now. I was feeling perkier now.
But I was soon back in my typical frame of mind, feeling a bit of a fool! I could not remember where the main reception was. I set off, trying to retrace my earlier route in reverse, and ended up in a room that looked like it had many babies all over the place? I withdrew hastily! Found someone to ask where the main eye clinic reception was located. And realised it was one of the receptionists I couldn’t hear talking a few hours ago when I arrived. Hahaha!
Anyway, I found it, and I had the job of hearing what the gal at the counter was saying again. She scowled at me and pointed in the direction of a two-seater settee in the corner near the door. “I’ve to wait there, then?” I think she almost clapped when she realised I’d got the message. She put a thumb up for me! Har-har!
I don’t know how long they were coming, but I was glad they were. When Richard arrived, he was cheerful enough. Then I made yet another cock-up…
By pure luck, I took a right turn and found my way to the outer door, seeing the two men looking for me! I couldn’t keep up with the chap and lost him and my direction again! Now I did feel like a complete idiot!
They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. The first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). Then one through the top side windows. At least I got a few photographs on my trip out, my escape from the flat.
Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!
We were soon back at the flats after a carefully driven journey. The lads refused a treat of the cans in thanks from my bag. Ah, well!
But I wanted to make a start on this blog, which I did. I got in the flat, had a wee-wee, got the kettle on, got my trousers off, cut up, and cubed some potatoes to do in the oven. After an hour or so, the floor chime burst forth again…
To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!
I apologised hastily when I realised; it must have been a terrible sight for her. We managed a laugh about it, but I felt awful and openly cursed Dementia Doreen! Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing and feeling an almighty, right a proper twit, all flourished!
Worked on this blog. (I did get it finished) I’ll do this in the morning (Now). I was up late, and when I realised it was gone midnight, I was getting fed up with myself.
I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!
The mess that I made making the potatoes, and doing the washing up, soon brought me back down to earth. Hehehe!
Review of the Day – In Odes
Sweet Morpheus didn’t allow me much sleeping… Throughout the night, I would wake up jumping! But I did remember, today, the EENT hospital visiting… The best session for weeks, the ablutioning… The Porcelain Throne visit was messy and paining… I forgot to unlock the door; the Carer couldn’t get in…
A stubbed toe fell over the airer, got entangled within, Sock-Glide-Glenda left me with cuts, bruises, hands and shin! Emptied my jacket, things fell out, on the floor dropping… The inner lining had apparently been rotting!
Took me hours to sort another coat out, And swap things around the pockets… Got it sorted and dressed to look smart… Almost forgot to put the drops in the eye sockets…
Then the ambulance arrived, and I was soon in… Thanks, to them, for to the hospital were driving… The receptionist, I could not hear talking… Some advised me of what they were saying… Then to another waiting room, I was soon going…
First examination in-depth, the lady was engaging… Back to the waiting room, results awaiting… Got the okay, then moved to another area of seating… Had a chat with a lady who was fortysomething…
The second exam, even deeper, by a lady appealing… Eye drops were applied, and my head was reeling… Back to the waiting room, I did some earwigging… Awaiting being called back for assessing…
More tests on a machine and blinking… I smiled and gave the lady some blinking… But I didn’t get any return acknowledging…
To the Main Reception, to get a lift home, I was pleased! But Dementia Doreen sent the memory adrift… I got lost en route; I panicked and wheezed… Felt a fool, ashamed and almost had a tift!
Found the reception, a stranger helped translate, Sit in that chair (pointing) and for your transport wait… So I did and didn’t have long to wait… A driver came, said, follow me, mate…
I tried to follow him, but he walking relatively swift… Chasing after him gave me a glift, boy, could he shift… I lost him and got a bit miffed… Panicked a bit and gave a little snift… But found him outside, looking a bit squiffed…
Got home and lost all sense of timing… The mind felt like it was abseiling… Took my clothes off, nice and cooling, Started with the day’s blogging… Along came the evening Carer; I was welcoming… Until I realised I had no trousers on, and started scaring! Felt like an idiot, started self-caterwauling, Embarrassed, ashamed, frustrating!
Well gone midnight got some nosh cooking,
Canned chill and potatoes, no casseroling,
Then turned my attention to sleeping…
Dreamed about Jillie and me, canoodling…
I think I started sweating and drooling…
A mortifyingly humiliating day, disconcerting!
After a terrible, almost sleepless night, I burst into life with a jump, and I soon realised Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding, I wanted a wee-wee, and the innards were rumbling away something awful. I thought this was a fine kettle of fish to greet the day… Worse was to come…
As I climbed out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously hideously beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and got to my feet to catch my balance – I missed it, for it wasn’t there, and lurched backwards into the chair.
Leaving myself in a bit of a pickle… I needed the wee-wee, could feel the warm wetness in the PPs from the lesion, and there I was, struggling to get back up from the sharp landing on my bum, and felt Harold Haemorrhoids bleeding. Now as well! I fumbled out of the recliner again, the balance was still wrong, I got Metal Mickey (the three-pronged walking stick) and made way ASAP to the wet room. Naughty foul language was being muttered en route! Took a reluctant sprinkly wee-wee first.
Heck of a long job, but I cleaned things up, medicated Harold’s Haemorrhoids with Germoloid ointment, and used Daktacort cream on Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The most painful of all the ailments to clean and medicate! Argh!But it has to be done.
How often it happens, the moment the piles have been cleaned and ointmentated, the need for Porcelain Throne follows. Grrr!
It’s a good job that I got up early all the same. Because the evacuation was the same as yesterday, under the control of Constipation Konrad! Solid, unwilling, and a giant torpedo when it eventually came out! . I set too on the crossword and finished it ultimately. T’was nothing to a man of my calibre! I finished one in 1972 as well… Mind you, I sat there for over an hour in hopes that the half-in, half-out situation with the rear end would flow again. Humph!
I decided to get the ablutions done as I was already in there. Mind you too early for a shower; the noise would wake the late sleepers. Things felt a bit better after that.
The shaving left me with.. wait for it… just one teeny-weeny cut. Another !
I got dressed in the day clothes. Then got the new slippers out of the packing bag. It took me a while to get them back into a shoe shape, suffice for me to get them on the feet. Warm, comfortable, cheap, they’ll do for me. Chinese made, not surprisingly – the stitching had started to split already, after three minutes of use.
Then started updating the Wednesday blog. I made a brew of Glengettie tea, tasty! But the balance let me down a little later when I visited the bucket for my fourth wee-wee, I don’t know how I did it, I held onto the bucket as I fell to the ground on one knee, without having any spillages?
I got the Phorpain gel out, and I gave the knee a good massage and ointmented it. Cleared things up, emptied, cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got back to the blog updating, it’ll be a long job, and the shakes were back again. In fact, I was having a double-visit from Shaking Shaun and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, as carer Richard arrived. I think it fritted him for a second. It did me, and I’m used to them. Hahaha!
Ricard pointed out that I was swaying somewhat when I moved, and Metal Mickey was shaking a bit in use. Within minutes of him mentioning it, things improved greatly shaking-wise. I told Richard he should come more often to see me, you bring good luck with you. The lad looked tired again, but not as bad as yesterday. Then I found he was having a day off tomorrow. In fact, he wasn’t working again until Monday, I think he said. Nice chap, I wish I could do more for him. Still, treated him to some bits before he went, I insisted.
I wished him a good sleep, and I closed the door as Richard took out the waste bags, and as I turned to go down the hallway, the balance went out of sync… But let’s face it, it couldn’t have happened in a better place for me! I used both walls as the stick fell, and it was dead easy, too, with the hallway being so narrow! No injuries whatsoever. I brushed my chin against the wall, but no hassle. I felt a little chuffed with myself, smug!
Back to the updating of the blog. What a state I got myself into. I spent hours trying to get the photographs on the system, the card-reader was laughing at me. He even teased me sometimes, my part-loading the photos so I could see some of them, then freezing and coming up with messages “Please put a disc in drive-F. Then I had to wait several times when this repeated;y happened, cause it would not let me close anything. I just had to wait until it closed down of its own accord? Grumph!
Gone lunchtime by the time I got some loaded to use, and I was hours behind with everything else!
Then I checked the Amazon tracker, as the Morrison delivery via Amazon arrived. The driver rang me, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying, but recognised the voice all the same, cause when he came months ago he left the bags downstairs for me. I said I’d go down, but by the time I got to the front lobby door the shakes were back, no problem with the balance, but Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was trying to give me forced leg dance again… I might have scared the Asian driver a bit, with my jerking antics. Hehehe! Anyway, although I had no idea what he was saying to me, his facial expressions showed he would not let me carry anything, and we made out way back up to the flat. He took the parcels and put them in the kitchenette for me. Bless him. I started to sort out the fodder. Only a few things for the freezer. Fries, leeks and waffle bites…
Which I can’t say that I can remember ordering… the waffles I mean? Got the frozen bits in the freezer, (it seemed a logical thing to do at the time, Hehe!) Then sorted the items for the fridge, which ended up rather full.
I’d overdone the desserts, and a box of cakes I ordered, apparently, I did not even like. There were no flowers available for Jenny and Francis’ treats, most annoying. But they did send the strawberries for them.
The cupboard foods had a wonderful surprise for me, the ‘Savers’ generic label Chilli Con Carnie was back in stock, not only that, they allowed me to buy five cans!!! This is my favourite of all the brands of chilli that I’ve tried. Soya pieces in place of meat, and tons of beans, all seasoned to my likes. Gorgeous flavour! Now I have something to live for! Hehehe!
I made up two bags on nibbles, sorry about not getting any daffodils for them. Cleaned up from the sorting things out. Took the bags of waste with me, and the bags on the walker, and delivered them. You wouldn’t believe how long it took in the lifts; when I wanted to down others were going up, so I waited for the next lift I don’t know how many times, and visa-versa when I wanted to get back up. No complaints, at least Morrisons had some strawberries for the gals, and I got my beloved cans of chilli again!
I dropped off the waste bag down the chute and made my way back to the flat. During which it dawned on me how few times in the last hours, I’ve needed a wee-wee? Also, the balance had improved… it’s a funny old life!
By the time I got back into the apartment, I realised what time it was. four PM! 16:00hrs! Late afternoon, and I had not even started on this blog yet! Everything takes so much longer to get done nowadays.
I got the blood pressure and temperature taken. While I remembered that it hadn’t been done yet.
Also, I was beginning to worry that I’d forgotten something that had to be done, or whatever today?
Then, I noticed as I got the things that I needed for the Health Checks gathered together, how leathery the skin looked n my hands… I suppose it should be expected really at my age. Still, I’ve kept onto my face dimples. Hahaha!
Another set of encouraging results today! The body temperature was almost spot-on the ideal target of 35°c. Can’t moan about these figures at all, never had them any better!
The Blood Pressure returns via the sphygmomanometer were good yet again! Creeping back up a little, maybe? Compared to last week end’s Sys of 208, it shot down to 137, then 142, 144, now 147. But it will settle again, I’m sure… Did I just say that? Har-har, we’ll see.
I spent many hours on this blog. The evening carer is due soon, too. I’ve not had owt to eat yer as well! Or should that be either?
I tried to reply to some WP comments. Most successfully, a few failed? I’ve been trying to reply to Tim Price’s comment on Rescued photographs & diary. But keep getting the red box ‘Comment Failed! – try again’ – which I have many times. Well, Tim below is my failed reply:
The best for ages, Tim, well pleased. Not really my choice of photos, Tim… there are the card readers choice, he’s taken to stopping so many from loading, seemingly at random. I need help here. Hahaha!
Also, I cannot answer my beloved petal Lisa. I’ll try again in the morning. Is it WP? The Computer? Me? Or a combination of all three?
Better get some nosh sorted out, then. Got the beans and veggieburgers served up. I took a photo, but the card reader will not let me get at it.
Evening Care called, but I was not in a good condition, and I was confused when she arrived. No recollection of much. Remember seeing her off and locking the door, as she took the waste bag with her.
Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic! Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic… Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic, The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric, Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick! But at least his noise today is only sporadic.
I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick… But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick… Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic… But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick… But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic… I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?
Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic… But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric… Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic… But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic. Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic, Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.
I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic, A problem is I’m my own worst critic, To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic… I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic? That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick… I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?
But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic, I manage with being deaf and arthritic, Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic… I try not to get depressed or apathetic, I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic, I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!
Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…
Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.
And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!
I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!
This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…
I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!
When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!
I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.
I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.
This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.
I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.
Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…
I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.
Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.
Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!
Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…
I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.
Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.
Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.
Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.
Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.
Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.
Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…
The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.
Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.
Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.
Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.
Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?
The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.
Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!
The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.
I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!
I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!
I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start? Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart… But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart, Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart? To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…
Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art! The socks removal will hurt in every leg part! Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered, By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked! Then the toothpaste to extract… Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact… Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!
Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!
Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!
You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction… The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication! Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation, It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!
Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering! It’s no good fearing, and cowering… It must be done, like an everyday thing! Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping… Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving… Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling… Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling… Then you often find yourself falling… But getting back up is more appalling and galling, Usually, you’ll drop things again… But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!
No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!
Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.
The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure, Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure! But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer… Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…
You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap, And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat… Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat! Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat! I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?
I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…
I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above, Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve, But incident rates will never improve… There is no to make things foolproof…
But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better! You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter! But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother… As antiseptics go, there is none betterer… It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver… Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!
You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.
Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped! Or even when you could risk being back slapped, Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped… It’s important for you to be able to adapt!
You’ll only compare things, with now and then, Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen? Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen! In fact, they have been known to bring on depression! Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten? Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when? The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then! But such days will never return again… Have you still got love letters, written with a pen? The name of your very first kitten? Or the first dog by which you were bitten?
When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian… Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten… But many of them inspire things you think were rotten! Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven? Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?
There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision… Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression, Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician… Or mayhaps, more like a politician? That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician… Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision, Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician? I might be better off with a dietician or magician?
Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying, Two Phacoemulsification operations or something, Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes… Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye, But worrying about it is not very wise Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,
So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age, The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage… Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage! The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge… £200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage… £50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge… An entrance fee if you have to use the triage… Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average… £40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages… Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage… Visitors can have a variable-priced massage… Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!
All Inchies’ plans, hopes, desires get obliterable,
All of the wishes and prayers fade; it’s unfixable…
In a crowd, he’s always the one that’s unnoticeable,
Thought-Storms, wild ideas become pestilential…
His handwriting is now virtually untranslatable,
Voices, alarms, so many to Inchie are unhearable,
Problems are increasing… not many are solvable,
Friendships, chinwags are all uncultivatable,
As seeing lip-reading with Cataracts is not doable…
Vascular Dementia Doreen has ruined the potential…
To do anything that is enjoyable or cherishable!
Inchie should get a medal for being so confusable… He’s given up socialising, he’s no longer compatible, Inchies depressions are no longer confineable, Hell, they are not even logical or describable… He tries to talk seriously, his views are uninfluential, Inchies common sense is turning surreal, His neurotransmitters are no longer connectable… To the brain; so too falls and shakes he is liable… But hopes of a cure are almost non-existent… Sniffle!
Yet he can have hopes, some of them substantial, But why he bothers is just unanswerable… Will he feel better when his eyes are done; its arguable, Cataracts, Glaucoma Saccades, are treatable… But will Inchy love long enough? Life’s a raffle… For 25 years now, he’s been totally tea-total, He never thought he’d persist and be capable, See? Summat he got right is detectable!
On past City & QMC visits, he became reflectable, Hoping those he awaits will not be fatal… He’s waiting on dates of five procedures at the hospital, Will soon come about and be arrangeable, But he’s not too hopeful and not getting flappable… He’s more worried about the logistics; will he be able… Which can do him no good and be detrimental… That’s another thing he needs, treatment dental!
He fears arranging things transportational… A carer to stay with him, which’d be pleasurable, After the 3 procedures, stay for 24hrs – is this possible? What’s the procedure: is it cost credible? I don’t know why I wrote this; it’s grammatically unpublishable?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Tues 5th April 2022
03:30hrs: The now, usual for the last four mornings anyway, jumping awake to the tormenting sounds of the Thought-Storms, driving me into instant confusion, began.
I reckon the storm lasted for about three minutes, then faded fast. No idea why, but happy about it!
Even getting out of the c1966 recliner and up to catch my balance was easy-peasy! Three-limps with Metal Mickey to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) and took another reluctant wee-wee. Without any PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling. Things looked hopeful to me for a better day in the offing? Until…
I soon learnt that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had replaced the Thought-Storm as the primary ailment. Although, right Cartilage Cathy was assisting in making hobbling a smidge difficult. But I’m not complaining; this knee pain and wobbling leg were a pleasure to put up with compared to yesterday morning’s Dracula Depression. Yes, I was feeling much better already!
Emptied, cleaned and disinfected the bucket and had a wash of sorts. Then, returned the NWWB to its handily placed position. Just in case things change with the bladder, off to the kitchen.
The view from the kitchenette window was very similar to yesterday’s beautiful picture.
I took this photograph. Even if it looked like yesterday.
As I opened the window, the wind caught me out. I moved a little with the camera and knocked over the knife block! I managed to catch it without any harm or injury, and only one knife fell out of the block! I was trying not to get into a Smug-Mode, as history has taught me that doing that can prove almost fatal! At minimal a foretaster of something else going wrong, at least! I made up two waste bags and placed them near the door. Got the kettle on and made a brew of JS Extra Strong tea. And off to get the computer going.
I kept getting messages telling me to put a disc in the F: drive, which had been there all along. The SD card reader refused to react again. So I left the card in to see if it would later on. I occasionally responded by giving the SD card a soft jingle – but it made no difference. Hey-ho!
Carer Richard arrived. He soon got me sorted with the medications, alarm-alert battery checks and looked at the supply of drugs in the drawer. He had to shoot off. He gave me a bit of a natter, though, bless him. He didn’t look too good this morning. Hope he’s going to be alright.
After updating yesterday’s blog for a while, I made another brew. Glengettie this time, and I tried the new ‘Just Milk’ in it again.
I’ve no idea if anything in it is different to normal semi-skimmed milk; the writing is too tiny for Cataract Kathleen to make it out. But I have to say that it lets the flavour of the tea come through without masking it, better than any other milk I’ve tried. As I got back to updating the blog…
The need for the Porcelain Throne interrupted me. As I casually got up and grabbed Metal-Mickey, the urgency of the need snowballed, and it ended up with just making it in time, after a panic, rush and quick hobble! Hahaha!
Not exactly as smooth as silk, and it was accompanied by different pains areas this time, despite the evacuation being semi-soft. All over in about a minute! No bleeding, stinging or hurting from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either. As I was cleaning up after the event. I realised that it may well be my having a second vegetable meal in three days that made things uncomfortable and nearly caught me out? Back to chips and a pastie with tomatoes tonight!
Made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Oh, I am spoilt for choices with great tasting teas! My best four are, from the top: Glengettie, Thompsons Punjana, Co-op 99 and JS Extra Strong Brown Label. But there is little between them. All great!
Made a restart on the updating of yesterday’s blog. At long last, I got it done and posted it off to WordPress.
Sphygmomanometerisationing began. The Boots machine returned slightly better figures this morning. The SYS has gone down from 169, 161, 159 and now to 157. My blood pressure is going in the right direction! And the body temperature is so very nearly on target again, at 34.8°c. Good!
Back to the wet room, no waiting this time, first songs and I was off. Hehe! Bubbly is one word to describe the evacuation this time. Almost frothy? Not a lot, no bleeding and no pain!
I replied to some Emails… well, the one. Hehe! I did some Facebooking catch-up. Starting the WP Reader viewing and…
Mr Nice, from the flat above, launched into some clanging about.
I spent a long time trying to get this post started. The concentration did a runner, and so many mistakes were made and had to be found and corrected. I imagine I’ve missed some; there were that many! The top Ode cost me a few hours of disheartening faffling about.
It was well into the afternoon when I got up to here with the scripturising. I like that word; I expected Grammarly to tell me it was spelt wrong. Oh, sod it, it just told me belatedly!
Better get some nosh sorted out then.
Took a photo of the Chestnut Way end car park. Just to see how red-van-man had parked.
Even with the Cataracts, it caught my eye that the popularity of car colours on the front spaces. Grey, black and white seems to be in fashion here at the towers. Disabled ones, perhaps?
I got the nosh all sorted out. Fishcakes with mushy peas in them, imitation fish sticks, tomatoes and some reasonably decent chips. Dessert and milk roll bread. Rating: 7/10.
Fell asleep watching something or other on the TV. Two hours or so later, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the door chime, and the evening carer arrived. An obviously experienced young chap, not seen him before. Good at the job, sorted the medications and came up with a solution to dropping the tablets and regurgitating without noticing. The Carer suggested taking them one at a time. Good idea, I’ll try that! Thanked him, and off he went.
As I checked around to make sure no taps or lights had been left on and all was safe – I saw the view from the kitchenette window. It was beautiful; I got the Canon and took this photo.
Then, a programme, well, two consecutive ones, were shown on the same channel. I fancied watching them both and got myself settled with a bottle of spring water, the wee-wee bucket nearby, feet up on the chair in readiness to enjoy them. I fell asleep at the first set of adverts and woke up two hours later to catch the finishing credits for the second documentary! Hey-Ho!