– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was feeling sorry for myself, quintessentially, Dementia, loneliness, seizures lurked parlously, A large bottle of cider persuadingly, My brain was acting preoccupiedly, Depressions, psych-asthenias, never free, The cider was more prepossessingly, Mentally, things buzzed peculiarly, I should worry about things pecuniary, I hadn’t a lot; now, no perspicuity, My life is turning proverbially… Am I going pseudo-hallucinatory? I really don’t feel tensed or querulously, Moments of genuine highs, then reality, Inner visions of tangibility, palpability, Then I lose this fantastic ability… I accept this annoying fait accompli, Life returns to being recessionary, For just seconds, I react angrily, I look again at the cider, splenetically, I must address my shortage of specie, A seizure grips, yet subconsciously… I talk with myself untrustingly, I see, hear nothing, turn sycophantishly, Was I in a state of spatiotemporally, Should I have bought cider or saki? I bored myself, tautologically, With the brain, I had a long tracasserie, Self-hate, haughtiness & pomposity, Nastily, offensively, vitriolically, but only to me, On a downer, life’s a travesty! Tonight, it might be cider instead of tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sleep is not good…
Seizure rife…
But I’d not moaning… Oh, No!
6½hrs Kip! Not a lot…
But much better than the last four days.
No domestic help again.
So I spent most of the day cleaning.
Not much was done.
Sorry about that.
The nocturnal bag rating was a four!
First photo of the view.
I did my best, but things tarted to bleed. I gave up.
Ablutions & Medications; I dropped the razor shaving. It’s not worth saying, but only two nicks.
However… Retrieving the razor, I trapped my arm amidst the trolley as Cartilage Chloe gave way. Just as well, I did cause the entanglement stopped me from going down and hitting the deck. Nice one! Got back to the computer and took this snap as I battled to understand what the messages were about that came up on booting. I still don’t know. I gave up.
Started the hand washing and airing.
What a hue the sky had changed to!
I noticed that somebody in the flat had not changed his c176 clock calendar date! Hehe!
So, I did!
Doing the cleaning as a mammoth job that did for me! It took me so long to get so little done!
Teatime delivery from Ocado. Costly!
Got some chips in the oven for the evening meal. Oven chips in the oven.
At last, a meal I enjoyed!
Sandra’s Mini-Seizures kicked off, and she stayed for a few hours. I wanted to try the computer again, so I left it until the morning (which turned out to be Sunday night) to try and get it finished.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – An ode to my beloved Grim Reaper,
Who’s always a welcome visitor,
I hear music, and I am getting deafer,
Each time he calls, & he comes more regularly,
It sounds as if it’s played on a dulcimer,
He told me about life in the Mesozoic Era,
>>>>>>
We talk of things I have that he had had,
When human, he lived alone in Trinidad,
Of course, it had no name then; he had no dad,
The world had no Oligarchs, Mafia or Triad,
He saw dinosaurs, even an achillobator,
Dodos, ichthyosaurs, & a gigantic lobster,
>>>>>>
Grim’s thoughts on us, well, here’s a list
GRIM: MPs are never an apologist,
Fairness & honesty, to them, are abstrucities,
Oligarchs: the richest, humanity-deficious,
Their wealth from financing wars, the obscenest,
HMG? In all cases, full of incongruities
>>>>>>
Grim’s thoughts on our future, well here are a few,
Your future now has too much friability,
Surviving is beyond your capabilities,
Peace is unknown to your adhocracy’s,
You polluted your own precious seas,
Your wars have created refugees…
Peace rarely reemerges; you start more wars!
To heat or eat, people are getting remortgages,
First-time shoplifter caught in many stores,
Starmer cuts pensions, & he expects applause,
Raises taxes, living costs ever-rises,
The sea diminishes, fish dying, even sponges,
Pollution; Bottles, sewerage & bandages…
Batteries, dead bodies and contraceptives,
Cables, Submarines, convoy ships, warships…
How do your seas hold anything that lives?
You must prepare for abandonedness,
But you won’t, I couldn’t care less! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It turned out to be another busy day, but moments of great joy and surprises intermingled with it.
The down points are Anne Gyna and a series of short but mind-blunting Seizures. So, here is another short version of the blog today. Although, it didn’t turn out that way. Why? I’ll tell yers!
In the morning, I spent another three hours adding missed bits and forgotten notions until Anne Gyna put an end to things. I think it was her. The pain came on sharply and instantaneously, as Anne does, but it felt so more severe and different that it scared me a bit.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Carer said this was a number 6 on the scale.
The sun made this a different shot as it appeared from behind the prison. No, the flats.
I have to keep up with the handwashing of the nightshirts. I washed one and flavoured it… I scented it with freshener, wrung it out, and hung it on the wetroom shower curtain rail.
Old photo used of the shower. I took this when I moved in.
Then I got the ablutions and medications tended to. Eight little knicks shaving. It shocked me when I went back to the wet room again. I’d forgot about the black nightshirt, and for a moment, I thought someone was in there. Haha!
The carer arrived to start the laundry duties. He did not have enough time to dry everything. But I got out both clothes airers and used them. The photo of the flat one seems to have disappeared from the SD card. Or I didn’t take it?
The DVT Warfarin nurse called to tell me she was coming to see me in the morning. Getting a phone call from this delightfully gorgeous, friendly, and caring nurse was lovely. ♥ If only I were 55 years younger.
My ultra-modern 1976 Nokia mobile phone seemed to have changed its colour scheme to green. That’s clever! Of course, I suppose there is a slight chance I changed it, and I can’t remember doing it. If so, it may have been done while I was in a seizure.
An early afternoon view here.
COCK-UP!
I bravely, but stupidly, thought it would be a good idea to clear some room, and I lost some files and deleted them without using the rubbish bin thingy. Huh! Decidedly a low point of the day,
The sky changed at about 18:00hrs. I took these shots. We’re getting some fantastic early evening skies recently. Glad I got these. The best close-up is one of the red bits.
ARGH! I left the hot water tap running again!
DOUG’s ANDY, FURRY OF THE DAY 1 He communicates with his expressions!
TIM’s FURRY’s OF THE DAY 2. Silver is not happy; being photobombed with Jake.
I don’t know when, but today. Can you spot the bird or whatever it is in the lower clouds?
This is a much-belated meal. I was so tired. I forgot to ask the carer not to put the nocturnal catheter on me, as I was going to be walking about with the walker and carrying the urine bag, which can be problematic. And it was! Doubly! Struggling to make a meal one-handedly is not easy. It was a miracle that I mashed the potatoes with some salt and cheese, and they came out looking good… Until I knocked the dish off of the counter! I cleaned it up as best I could, I’ll finish it in the morning. (but I finished cleaning it while washing the pots instead) The pork leg slices and mini sausages were baked to perfection! The stray looked a little bare. Hehe! I really enjoyed it! I made a sandwich with Milk Roll sliced bread, with a spot of Marmite on each, and added the pork. Delicious! The lemon mousse went down well.
I did the washing up and cleared the mess I made earlier on the kitchen floor.
I was so tired and drained. Getting into the NHS bed with the light out was hard work, but I settled in. Within minutes, that nervous feeling that I might have left the taps running appeared. Getting out of the bed, I dropped the torch. Then I gave myself a . Fumbled to find the torch; it had fallen into the PP box. Grabbed hold of , and hobbled precariously to the kitchen. No, the tapes were not running. However, I did discover that I’d left the fridge door open. I closed it! I returned to the bed, turned off the light, looked in my pocket for the torch, returned to the kitchen to retrieve it, and returned to the bedroom. I could not face another battle to get into bed; I only wanted some sleep. So, I got down in 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. I did not, as I had hoped, fall asleep straight away. The doubting started: ‘Did you close that fridge door?’ – ‘Were the taps okay?’ – ‘Did I turn off the two clothes-heating airers? – ‘Why didn’t I check on the wet room taps? I was too weary to bother checking again, and that’s something I don’t think I’ve done before. Then, just as I get the the big eyelid droops… Guess what? Started giving me what for! Energetically, too! Talk about moving about, Top left chest, then the right side of the neck, midriff, lower right stomach, back to the neck, chest centre… I wondered if I should spit or cry! I forced myself out of the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, micro-organism-microbe-bugged, easily-fallout able from, unfit-for-use, not working recliner. Got a Codeine 30g, back into the c1968, non-operationable, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, sickenly beige-coloured recliner, and took the medication, swigging it down with gulp of shandy from the bottle. Fantastic! Within 15 minutes, the drooping eyelids returned, getting slower as I neared the prospect of sleep, and off into the land of Sweet Morpheus I went!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Inchy: Grim, can’t you ring the bell before you visit?
Grim: Well, that wouldn’t look very authentic!
Inchy: Ah, I can see the logic…
Grim: Anyroad, it’s some good luck for you, Inchy, that I’ve come to transmit!
Inchy: Oh, goodie, I don’t usually good news rhetoric.
Grim: The H&H ‘Hearafter Selection Committee’ usually has a maximum percentage allowed, and it’s strict.
Inchy: Yes, tell me in plain language, not contorted or overscholastic…
Grim: Well, our auger & accountant tells us of a coming peace treaty, and we’ll need someone up there with us to keep the score in the following Oligarch-inspired war. Well, Heaven and Hell still use Windows 3.
Inchy: Yes, tell me tell me…
Grim: Don’t talk to me like that, all antagonistically!
Inchy: Sorry, but I’m excited. Accept my apology!
Grim: We don’t have anyone up there who can remember Windows 3; it changes almost daily.
Inchy: You mean Word and Excel? Have I heard what you said correctly?
Grim: It’s difficult for the computer to run with no electricity!
Inchy: What? H & H both exist powerlessly? Grim: Well, heaven did a deal with Hell, and they get the politicians, Oligarchs and murderers to produce the power using pedal power, and all for free. Inchy: Hehehe!
Grim: We use a power system called Cyclistically to make our own electricity.
Inchy: Do they have to cycle for eighteen-hour shifts? Is there no food or drink? Will they be beaten about the head if they go too slowly?
Grim: Aye, they cycle 24/7/7, abundantly!
Inchy: Heavens & Hell, that news pleases me!
Grim: Now we can fit you in surreptitiously,
If you promise to use Window 3 Inchy, secretly.
Inchy: I’ll work diligently if you just take me away.
From this hellhole of an earth & cruel life…
I’ve been denied a wife, get ailments & strife…
But would my health, mental & physical, revive?
Grim: We’ll never know. You won’t be alive…
Inchy: How will I cope with computer & hardrive?
Grim: If you pass St. Peter’s inquisition, you’ll thrive!
Inchy: I’ll thrive but not be alive! Is that coercive?
Grim: Don’t tell me you’re feeling apprehensive?
It’s an alternative, a sort of imitation life…
Inchy: It’s Earth life that I’m not coping with!
Grim: You’ll find things are different, cosmocratic,
Inchy: Will the souls be kind & communistic?
Grim: They certainly will not be consumeristic,
Inchy: Is that good? Bad? It seems to contradict,
Grim: You really want to stay on Earth’s cesspit?
Inchy: No, no, no! Look at me, I’m cadaveric.
I’ll come with you, even if this is all a trick!
Grim: I’ll tell summat else to make you ecstatic,
Inchy: Please do, Grim. Make me aware,
Grim: One of your jobs when you get up there…
Will be a sort of aged welcoming au pair,
Doing one-to-one interviews, as an assessor,
Deciding which sole will go where…
To Heaven, & peace everafter…
Or to hell, specifally to be a cycler,
You’ll sentence each one, whomsoever,
I’ll assure you can Starmer!
I’ll ensure Starmer gets you as an interviewer!
Inchy: Great, I’m ready when you are!
Grim: Sorry, I was pulling your leg.
Still, I’ve made you so much cheerier!
Inchy: You little monkey, you’re getting cheekier!
Grim: Anyway, if I took you now, you’d miss Keir’s funeral & not be able to be the cheerleader!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 3 To Find – In Nine Seconds. I think that’s a little short.
It took me nine minutes to get them all! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Smoked ham on non-butter buttered cheesy topped rolls. With sliced Natoora black tomatoes. Sea salted. With cooked beetroot and battered mashed potatoes. A pot of lemon & lime yoghourt last night. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Two Natorra tomatoes left to have later. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A decent 6 hours of sleep and a few wake-ups, but not due to . Not a lot of them anyway.
Removed from the day pouch, and from then on, I started so many tasks in a short space of time and made many errors. For example, after I started sorting the waste bags out. Got three bags into one and intended to do the other two. But no, not me. I found myself with my head in the oven cleaning the racks. I say I found myself because obviously one of the seizures had got a hold of me; the last thing I remember doing before this was taking the first bag to the door. And was going to sort the front room bins. I looked in the room, and they had not been done. It gets better! I returned to the kitchen to see what I’d done with the oven and found a tap had been left running and a nightshirt in the sink. Since the water was cold, I assumed I must have been rinsing after washing the Kagoul. I rinsed the shirt and wrung it out, ready to put it on a coathanger to drip dry in the wet room… I reckon it caused me a bout of vertigo as I removed the shirt from the sink to the bowl. No need to tell you, but I will: I dropped the bowl, water all over the floor and me, and the monitoring station came through to tell me the water leak alarm had activated. It took me a minute or two to regain my balance sufficiently to reach the monitor.
I never recovered from this bout all day long. A new fear gripped me, and it was amazing that I didn’t take a tumble again. I sat down for a minute or two and changed the clock-calendar on the computer desk.
I was soon back in the kitchen, sorting out the mess. Then I got a look at the oven that I’d come round to, to find I was working on cleaning it. What a mess! I’d put some foam spray cleaner on everything, but then I found the bottle label that read, “WARNING: For Bathroom & Toilet Cleaning Only!” So, I spent ages getting it off and drying the oven.
A nagging douby that I was going to, or needed to do something, lasted for about ten-seconds. Then I made my way to the wet room to get the ablutions, medications and Porcelain Throne duties done. The Porcelain Throne was not even sat on.
However, I managed a gentle shave and only caught the head patches from yesterday’s tumble a few times. The shaving was done so gingerly that I might not have bothered. The neck growth felt the same to my touch as before I’d shaved! The went okay. And… I got the fresh PPs on without any falls, stumbles or droppages!
A Caregiver arrived, and I remembered that I needed to hang the Kagoule on the wetroom shower rails to dry. So, after the carer had medicated me, I got another kagoule washed and hung it up with the other in the wet room. I wasn’t with it at all today. I thought about making a brew of Glengettie, but then I remembered I’d not taken the waste bags to the chute yet. So, I did! There were no traps on my fingers or my hand. And no walking into the doorframes. 2.
Carer Sam arrived. Took the laundry down for me, bless her.
A belated, unexpected series of Mini-Seizures visited me. After all the work I’d done today to try to catch up, for about four hours I was… was, well, erm… in and out-of-it. When in, I had to try to sort out what’d gone while I was out of it… but would go out of it before I could get an angle on what I’d been doing when I was out-of-it the time before; if anything. I just read the above, and Blanety-Blank came to mind.
I made a meal, Sweet and sour chicken Chinese style. I boiled and added some potatoes and a small jar of Hoisin and spring onion sauce. I bought it years ago; I can’t find a use-by date. Then, I also decided to have some potato waffles on the side. So, I did! I was so hungry. When I was about to fetch Kodak Tim 2, the Carer arrived, and I forgot to photograph the meal. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Duncan paid fewer visits today, But perhaps I shouldn’t say… It’s not as if he went away, What will happen on Saturday? Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory, If it comes, it’s always only briefly, Though it always returns, worryingly, But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly, I got that from my thesaurus dictionary, My life bears moments of uncertainty… Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety, No claims to rightness or piety, Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy, I often act subconsciously, mistakenly, Or over-humbly, sycophantishly, At times, I’m away with the sidhe, If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns, With my own brain, I can lock horns, Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon, Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection, Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration? He can bring on a cruel self-beration, Sometimes, a sort of zombification, A low, deeper than being woebegone, While accepting my own antiquation… With its struggle amany and vulneration, Dementia Doreen is another vaurien, Incogniscent Iris, seisures often… DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see, Alternates with DDDD visit frequently, One extreme or the other, persistently, Never equidistantly or contentedly, I can struggle to find reality, facticity, Thoughts, movements show contumacy… My neurotransmitters are dying on me, Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly? A chance of it being right? They go astray! High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly, DDDDD? Then things can get tricky… Throw in the odd interrupting seizure… What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater, I often turn into self-loathing babbler, When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter, Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger, Or has the temerity to get smaller, Or new farces & snags I discover, While I’m under Horis’s protective cover! Ménière’s, seizures… but I always recover, In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter, The nurse arrived to change my catheter, Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay, I wouldn’t go back in straightaway, We had a bit of a shilly-shally… We got it in, although it was bloody, Then she checked the state of my rear alley, She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation, returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HOWZAT!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A bad day. Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.
Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs. The pouch was taken off and emptied. Waste bags sorted and ready. Made up some pots to use for the laundry.
Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.
Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.
Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!
I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.
The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX
I took this snap as she departed.
Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.
By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky! To the right. To the left. Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.
Carer Chris returned. Medications given.
I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain, Kill a farmer financially as I pass along, Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong, Then my living shall not be in vain, Then my living shall not be in vain, Then my living shall not be in vain, Take backhanders & get given a gong, Then my living shall not be in vain. If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought, Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought, If I can spread messages that Hitler taught, Then my living shall not be in vain Then my living shall not be in vain Then my living shall not be in vain If I can help somebody as I pass along And become a billionaire before too long… Then my living shall not be in vain! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.
I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was! I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket. Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again! I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it . The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.
I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!
I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done. There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts. I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.
I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.
Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.
The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.
I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me. Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!
The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.
Getting dark already. Took these shots from the kitchen window.
Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.
I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – May I wish everyone a Great Day! Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
SUGAR!I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!
HAVE A GREAT DAY – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain, What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again, I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline, The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin, Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place, Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face, I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again, Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane! Dancing, laughing at the pain I’m happy again… I’ll cope and smile at the pain, I may flinch cause the pain is a bane! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.
Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.
Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay. 2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before. 3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned. A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me! At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! . Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea… Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening. I’ve had better mornings!
Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment. There I go, moaning again. Tsk!
I got the computer on the go. By Gawd, it’s going so slow. But so was I, like an armadillo. Then I got rumbling below… Back to the wet room I went! I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! ! Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now. However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through. A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind. Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them. Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha! Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!
Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥
Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?
Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.
Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.
I updated this blog up to here. And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea. This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.
Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.
The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!
Then, I sorted out a meal. But this one wasn’t!
I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner. Constantly waking up with either or pains twinging away.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d sell my soul, but to which acquist? Old Father Time, or a reincarnationist? Treat myself, & come back as a rheumatologist? A scepticist, somnambulist, maybe a spiritualist, A perspicacious psychiatrist or psychoanalyst, What’s a phenomenologist? I’ve not got a gist! No, I’d like to come back as a sensationalist, Not as another feeble-minded moderatist, I’ve lived this life with ostentatiousness, Dithering, meandering, graciousless… Though this year, I’ve acquired some spiritedness… I’ve learned hatred, in recrementitiousness, I’ve Starmer to thank for this… For him to die in pain slowly, I wish… No guilty. I hate Keir, the non-socialist socialist, Think I’ll put my name on Old Father Time’s list, I hear St Peter likes a sesquipedalianist, And await the arrival of Keir the Schlockiest!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – MEMORIES – Mr Fooey. Long gone but not forgotten!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 07:10hrs: I stirred to the pain and my being awoken by . Doing his best to detach my head from my torso. Soon to be joined by in the ‘Let’s shock Inchy awake’ campaign, by . Humph! The brain engaged first gear, triggering the mixed memories of my situation this morning. The worries about all the jobs and tasks that the Intercom had caused me to fret over and what I needed to do about them. I’d made mock plans. The first was to get the blog finished and posted. Then, to get down to the lobby from 08:00hrs to 0900hrs to admit my beloved Nurse Hristina. Being as the intercom had gone wrong on me. It’s still not working at all now. Worra Day! I hauled my body from the comfort of the hospital bed, forcing every move. Then, I made a proper mess of photographing the nocturnal night pouch. A number 7 on the NHS graph.
I went to check the taps and cookers in the kitchenette. And the view from the windows was fantastic. After taking the top snap, I wondered if I could take a photo worthy enough to capture the two planets way up high in the sky. Of course, I couldn’t. Nothing like what my eyes were looking at. Tsk!
After getting the blog finished and posted in a short time, I looked at the intercom to see if it would show anything on screen. It didn’t!
Time to get some clothes on for going down to the ground floor foyer for nurse Hristina. A pleasant thought, that! ♥
Arrived as I finished getting dressed. He did a rush job giving the medications, and he got my diabetic socks on in no time for me. Then I quickly looked at the intercom but couldn’t see why it was not working. Helped me get the coat on, then assisted me in getting the walker and to take with me. Then, he kindly went down to the lobby with me. I sat in the lobby, and it was cold there. Doing the crosswords, but only for half an hour. And Nurse Christina arrived 🧡. She was unhappy with me going to the lobby but understood why I had to. We went up to the flat, where Christina had a look at the intercom. As she was taking my INR Warfarin blood samples, she said that she would ask Julie about the intercom for me if she was there. Bless her!
Then I changed the dates on the c1970, made a clock/calendar, and started this blog. Things might get complicated in a while; I only had an hour and a half to work on this blog before needing to go down again to the ground floor lobby to wait for the arrival of the returned JS food delivery. A Financial Carer is now due to fill in my pages-long HMG Social Q&A papers. These are bound to clash, especially if the Cardiac nurse arrives. What next? The threat of mental mayhem lingers!
09:45hrs now. I’d better get my coat on ready. A smidge of guilt tickled me when I saw the hospital bed, which I thought I had straightened earlier.
Took a quick snap of the kitchenette windows as I made the first brew of the day. I can’t wait too long for the financial visit. I must get down in time just in case the JS order arrives early, and I must stay down later if it arrives late. Thus, I may miss the financial help call I’m paying for. Life is a mess here!. Grumble, groan, moan!
Carer Kimberly arrived at just gone ten. We set about the NCC (Nottingham City Council) Q&A form filling. It took a long time, but we arrived in time for me to shoot down to the lobby again and await the J Sainsbury delivery. I met an old friend from long ago, and we had a natter. She has also had her intercom go down on her. She was doing her laundry, and we had a lovely chat. I had to nip up to the lonely flat to empty my catheter. She kindly kept an eye out for the JS delivery. I emptied the catheter and returned to the ground-floor lobby. The gal went up to her flat and then returned with a note she’d written for me and left it on the external intercom, stating that flat 72’s intercom was out of action; please ring the ‘wardens’ who can let you in. Very nice of her. 💘 Thank you, Angel. The JS van arrived, and we all went up in the lift. Little did I know that I would soon be cursing, swearing and spitting at and at the very thought of J. Sainsbury’s! The driver may have been a little embarrassed when he told me that two bottles had ‘burst open’ and many items were covered in shandy. But the packaged goods were sealed and should be all right. (Never has a man been wronger!) The empty box had the fresh foods in it for 2 minutes! The shandy had permeated through the outer and inner packaging. I had to throw away the chocolates, biscuits, wafers, onion rings, bread, and patties. Some of the others look likely to end up the same way. But, they did not charge me for the two broken bottles. But of course, this put me below the minimum charge, and I got a delivery charge added. My opinion of JS sank. I could not stop cursing and swearing at them. I opened each multipacket, only to find that the inner packets had been soaked for so long that the products had been soaked in the shandy. I’m still spitting occasionally. I got a phone call on the mobile and asked the driver to take it as I could not hear what the caller was saying. He said it was the NCC, saying they would call on Friday to look at the intercom. I thanked him muchly. The bin looked well-filled already! I suppose I can cope with the shandy-soaked potatoes? The shandy-soaked label on each baking potato took ages to get off. The cursing returned! I’m hoping the fresh garden peas will taste alright. The cream cakes and parmentier potatoes I suspect witll have a shandy flavour to them. The beetroot was the only container that seemed shandy-free! Even the tomatoes had some dark liquid inside their box. The pattis had been permeated, but I think the Eclairs may have resisted the flow of shandy. I suspect the sliced red onions may have as well. The outer jar of peas and Anchor butter was sticky and wet, and, of course, I’ve no shandy to drink now! A third round of anger and cursing ensued! Made worse by the incident not being my fault. Despite the delivery arriving, having to throw so much stuff away left the fridge still looking a little bare, to say the least.
Then I got a landline call (much easier to hear what they say on this line) from the Cardiac Team. The nurses will not be calling today; they will advise me of when after they have made rearrangements. I should hear from them via email by next Wednesday with the details. Well, that will save me another trip down to the foyer!
I must record the happenings on my notepad/Google Calendar. Since the maintenance crew did not give a time of day, I’ll put it on the calendar for the whole day. So, I did!
I got a late phone call from Sherrington Park Medical Surgery with the new Warfarin INR level dosages. Mon to Wed: 1.5, Thursday 2, the rest were also I.5.
Carer Promise called early at night.
This prompted me to take a look at the evening sky. I just caught the sunset again. And lovely it was, the first picture almost like a painting. Then I took a close-up of our Mother-Sun on the horison. I imagine this is how Mars would have been portrayed in the 1930’s and earlier?
I made a bread roll filled with about everything I had in stock. First time I’ve tried bamboo shoots. Can’t say I was impressed… I was also a smidge annoyed at forgetting the beetroot and pickled egg. Humph!
Carer Promise did the last call. Whipped off the diabetic socks; no medications were needed. He also returned the bag of laundry. I’ll sort that out in the morning.
Sleep came late, but it was a much better one.
And it lasted for over 6 hours! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski, Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HELP FOR ALL! – – – There’s usually a thought worth thinking… Until a problem arrives, more demanding, Though factors currently depending… On seriousness, practicality & spending, Earlier plans may need synchronising, The original idea may need some tweaking… Options left available may leave you seething, Chances of success may be receding? Can you see where this ode is leading? Your intentions may be beyond solving, But you’ve got me sympathising, You must be realising… I do not want to be scaremongering, Needs, desires, once so promising, Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising, If possible, they need reorganising, These failures will be nauseating, Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening, No need for any self-admonishing… Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing… We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing, I’m pretty good at motivating… You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻
Then things started to get farcical! The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working. JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery. I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time! The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed. This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows! Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘
Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!
Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.
Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card. I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour. If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in an unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!
The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?
The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.
Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.
I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.
Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting. A wide shot, the top one. Pretty really! I zoomed in to get a close-up. Strangely, this one came out alright, too.
The next job was to get something to eat. Which I did. Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault! I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!
Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SO FAR THIS YEAR… A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost!
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly! The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular! I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems. Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent. Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups. Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time? Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. Can’t get any help! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I am struggling all around, losing ground… Things going wrong… others compound, Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned… The end is high; I’ll be bound! I’m sick of being flatbound. The sanity I once foreowned… Has departed, and I’m all alone, With help, my confusion to unconfound… For solutions to confusion, I toss around, But my brain is now thought-barren ground, Ever more problems to confound… Will I take them with me to my burial ground? Frustrations are just grinding me down! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – KEEP SAFE, FOLKS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Humankind, the epitome of entanglement, Each human individually so different, Some are passive, some violent, some truculent… Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant, Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent! : : : : : The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent, The poor, without clean water, living in a tent, The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant, The lying greedy shower in Parliament, Those mentally challenged & obmutescent! : : : : : The law-abiders, who are so obedient, Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent… No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent, The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent… The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant! : : : : : The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance, The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment… Stewing inside with injustice & resentment, Outwardly displaying mock-contentment, Their hopes & desires are only ruminant! : : : : : The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant, They forget things, making them more inconscient, Those without catheters may become incontinent, Their life’s meaning turns intervenient, Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent! : : : : : The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient! Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment, Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent, I can no longer afford to get myself temulent, Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment! : : : : : I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt… What chance of my body and brain’s renascence? I often go off track, lose the plot and scent… Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent… For years, my body has been going putrescent, Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment, I’ll leave this Ode as my testament! : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in! 04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe! I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!
I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them. I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha! When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes! After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. ! I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream onand feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!
I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.
Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added. Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.
I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?
Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART 214⅔ – – – My confidence in politicians is gone forevermore,
It’s been fading, but now we have Starmer…
I don’t want to be an alarmer…
But the animal is a liar and a falsifier,
Prime Minister? More lie a financier,
A get-rich-quick dictator, a Führer,
I hope he soon starts to flounder…
His dodgy use of his filibuster,
Attacking now the fox-hunter,
After robbing money from each pensioner,
And financially crippling each farmer,
Next election, we’ll have no agriculture!
What next from this fiddling fraudster?
This untouchable political freebooter?
What is next on his agenda & addenda?
Expect anything from this tax-imposing liar,
: : : : :
As for his pensioner’s fuel-payment abduction,
That was his most significant, cruellest abomination!
No sign of the Railway’s renationalisation?
The only things that he shows any affection…
Seems to be backhanders, port & bourbon,
His ego seems to flourish and bourgeon…
Increasing taxes, with contradistinction,
WASPI campaign, Starmer tapped into the emotion,
“Said he’d help them get compensation”, more aversion,
HMG denied 3.6 million women’s discrimination! He said they would cut energy bills to £300 immediately,
Set up GB Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company,
1st Jan; the EPC came into effect, bills rose, alarmingly,
More Starmer lies proven, Ministerial batrachomyomachy!
Labour promises are fake and disobligatory,
Starmer’s killing off the Labour Party… magnificently!
: : : : :
Starmer has all of the required political armamentaria,
To be the most successful Labour Party annihilator,
He’s moraless, and a clever cunning misleader,
An effective commoner, worker & proletariat bleeder,
He seemingly believes his own counterpropaganda,
Lies freely, takes backhanders without any forfeiture,
Installs a lack of faith & hope in each Labour voter,
He’s ridden with greed, self-wealth & pleonexia,
He’ll falsify, confuse, cleverly pretends to palter…
I’d like to see him go on a psychogalvanometer,
He has arrogance, deceit by the plethora,
A verbal illusionist, an indirect trickster,
This completes today’s Ode to Starmer!
: : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – DONE WELL THIS WEEK! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve been counting Starmer’s lies, worse than I thought – He simply won’t stop! All politicians are economical with the truth. Sir Keir Starmer has lifted lying to a new level. And he doesn’t even hide it. If there’s an art to lying, the PM hasn’t bothered to master it. He lies and lies again, and there’s no art in it at all. He just says whatever suits him at the time. Broken promises, u-turns and pledges, and it’s exhausting. I’d quickly run out of space if I tried listing them all here. He started by lying to his own party, winning support for the Labour leadership with 10 key pledges, including abolishing student tuition fees and the two-child benefit cap and nationalising public services. All quickly dropped. Having secured the support of the Corbynite left, he stepped up his efforts by lying to the rest of us to win this year’s general election. Starmer led us to believe Labour would retain the Winter Fuel Payment and said nothing about scrapping the £86,000 cap on social care costs for elderly or tax-targeting farmers! There are further proven 162 lies recorded that I can use later. Undoubtedly, he will have added to the total by the time I get around to using his current lies and deceitful statements. Bless the unscrupled git! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:00hrs: After one hour of sleep, I bolted awake, coughing away, jerking my neck and head to my right. I’ve never had a more extended Ted session before. I was close to pressing the alarm-alert wristlet. I was getting a little unnerved by the Twitching. But within 5 minutes, the chesty coughing died down, and ten minutes later, calmed down. Phew! He didn’t just stop as he usually would; this session was a gradual slowing down of the rate of twitches until it stopped. I removed the grade 7 on the NHS chart urine catheter pouch from the day pouch. I realised the weekly Friday changing of the catheter day bag had not been done this week! No wonder I’m suffering with pain from the tubing in poor Little Inchy! But it’s partly my fault; I’ve had unfamiliar Carers calling this weekend due to the shortage of regular carers with illnesses. I should have reminded them. Later, I even forgot to ask Carer Shaquille to do it. Tsk!
I suspected things may be different today when the innard’s warning to get to the wet rooom Porcelain Throne was interspersed with violent belching and noisy escapages of wind from my rear end. I was right!It took me a lot of pain, effort and time to force the one massive, gigantic, solid submarine to even start evacuating. I can’t remember any events of this nature where it took me so long to achieve the required bowel movement. Amazingly, there was less bleeding than yesterday, but the escaping product was half as large again compared to Saturday’s torpedo. It was so much so that I added water, waiting for the cistern to refill 3-times from the tap to encourage and unclog the monster on its journey to the sewer below!
I took some early morning shots of the view from the kitchenette window. Both have the ‘blotch’ partially hidden. Again, there was a green hue in the sky. I took both shots slightly higher than usual, so the darkest bits masked the blotches. Haha!
I got the computer going and started updating the Saturday blog. First, I needed to use CorelDraw. After doing so, I had the first run of since yesterday’s teatime. They were all short ones, but this made them more easily recognisable. So I decided it would be better to go and make a brew of Glengettie. Gave way on me as I went through the kitchen door. Banging my knee against the cabinet corner triggered a reaction , and both ailments got a good dose of Phorpain gel, and I took a Codiene to be on the safe side. When any cartilage and Arthur Itis get a clouting at the same time on the same leg, well, it does hurt a bit. Haha! Of course, this didn’t bother a fit young man of my granite-like pain-bearing qualities.
The tea had gone cold, so I made another one. Making sure I drank it while it was hot enough! As I took this photo, I realised I had not yet changed my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. So I changed the day & date on my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. Then, I discovered that I’d made I’d been dating all the graphics with the wrong date and had saved some as the 1st and others as the 2nd to different files! It later cost me hours to find and move them where I wanted them. Obviously, I did not swear, curse, spit, thump the wall, growl, wail or get angry or depressed over this at all.
Carer Shaquille arrived. Changed my socks, medicated me, and we had a short natter & laugh.
I was working on the ode, and revisited me. Boy, was this bad. I had to give up, but I did some work on the Liar Starmer insult content. My hatred for him still came through!
Carer Kimberly did the next call. Which helped me come back from the brink of unconsciousness. I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I was up for the previous few hours before her arrival. We spoke about the dentist and nurse’s visits and the Q&A form for HMG that I need to fill in next Wednesday. Kimberly will go through it with me.
As the seizures eased off, took over as the primary ailment in action. The occasional coughing and sneezing, presumably from the Novovirus.
The sunshine was trying to come out late this afternoon. I used the loan camera from Jenny for this one to avoid blotches. It came out okay?
Another emptying of the catheter day pouch. I must remember to ask a Carer to change the day bag. How I keep forgetting beats me. Mind you, so does the cotton wool, which looks floating in the urine. Might the cause of the feedback pains be the pouch not being replaced and the cotton stuff blocking the exit tube? I must remember! The regular Carers usually remind me about this on Fridays. But so many are off work poorly. I felt guilty; had I passed my virus?
I was desperately trying to get to sleep. Amazing… I nodded of at long last after days without sleep!
Carer Victor arrived and woke me up!
I struggled again to get back to sleep for about four hours.
Blessedly, I nodded off again. Carer Richard arrived and woke me up!
After this awakening, I could not get back to sleep. I gave up the idea at 01:30hrs and got my ablutions tended to.
