– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve never seen an elephant or a zony,
A giraffe, or been to Hungary…
Or why we all live xenophobically,
I know if Starmer gets his way…
Pensioner’s food will be xerophagy!
<<<>>>
Oh, last night’s kip, seizure after seizure!
Accompanied with agony from Anne Gyna,
I was a nocturnal cougher & sneezer,
Sleepless, confused, unwell, a sad geezer,
So bad, I was prepared for my sepulchre!
<<<>>>
Hard to breathe, a cough and an atchoo!
My moving and thinking was so adagio,
What I was or needed to do, I didn’t know!
Nocturnal seizures, I’ve only had two…
Both were in bed. Is it a bugaboo?
<<<>>>
My brain & body needed to be examined,
At first, I felt really succussed,
The carer came, this was discussed,
He reported to HQ, well, he must…
They didn’t mention my psychosis,
<<<>>>
I said no help was needed,
Though I may have been deluded,
Then, the carer departed,
I became far less bothered,
So quickly, I suddenly breathed!
<<<>>>
My dizziness, & balance improved,
With Anne Gyna, I was not affected,
It took a minute to feel jubilated,
Gone, I was, no longer seizured,
Sadly, later, Anne Gyna feasted!
<<<>>>
ADMISSIONS
I’ve blundered, blabbed & believed,
Got angry, annoyed, been aggrieved,
Begloomed, begrimed & becharmed,
Shoplifted, got shot twice, was sacked,
In 1950, I was abducted,
By a neighbour, I was snatched…
I believe her name was Winifred,
A Welsh lady who took me to her bed,
Her groping, I found unmatched,
Her house I frequently frequented,
I didn’t realise what we practised,
But I was sorely satisfied!
<<<>>> – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – After each Nocturnal Seizure, clearing my head and senses was a long job. Balancing was a farce. Anne Gyna was playing ball with me. From getting up, it was a confusing and worrying 4 hours before the Carer arrived. The Carer rang his HQ to report my condition. Eyesight blurred, coughing and sneezing, phlegm coming up, dizzy, and most things that I was suffering from cannot be remembered. I think I was finding it a job to talk as well. At one stage, I spoke with a lady from the Carer organisation. Can’t recall what was said.
Once the Carer departed, my head slowly cleared, and my vision improved after taking the medication. I took an extra Codeine & Paracetamal.
I’ve got photos on the SD card that I cannot recall taking. Maybe the seizures continued with the mini-ones. The day flashed by. I didn’t start this ode until around 15:00hrs when I started the odes.
After this, I may need to give WP a rest.
After three nights of broken sleep, then last night’s nocturnal Seizures, I must try to get some sleep. I realise my thousands of fans will be disappointed, and I apologise to both of you. Hehe!
I’m so far behind it hurts!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I NEED SLEEP! Dear Lord, I won’t bellyache. At best, my life’s been bittersweet, I don’t mean to moan & bleat… Three days under the bedsheet, Mostly in pain and wideawake, And not a moment’s sleep, Anne Gyna & Sandra’s Seizures compete, I pray you to hear me speak, I don’t intend to offer critique, Sleep: or ensure I don’t reawake.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Well, it’s time to get summat to eat. I originally decided to have two lamburgers on cheesy-topped rolls. My taste buds tingled at the thought.
I couldn’t have made a proper meal anyway because I forgot to tell the carer not to put the nocturnal bag on yet. I could have made the meal without the dangers of using the walking stick and cooking simultaneously. I got the burgers in the oven; they should take 35 minutes to cook.
Then I returned to the computer and did the Ode To Sleep. Forgetting all about the burgers. I got a whiff of the burning food!
So, I ate some Cheez-it crackers and nuts as sustenance for tonight.
Photos of the day. In order as taken, I think. First one. My beloved tree copse.
Cavendish Vale
CorelDraw problems again.
This might be out of sync timewise?
Green skies, as well. I’m colour-blind on red/greens, so you may not see the colour I do. Protanopia: This is a severe form of
red-green colour blindness where individuals are unable to perceive red lights at all. I looked this up on my NHS list. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, in hopes of nodding off.
Well, it was great! Five straight hours without interruption. Until and kicked off.
Five hours is more than I’ve had over the last three days.
No bother from , , or either of the Cartilages. !
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Grim: Ayeup, Inchy! Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me! Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy! Inchy: Wot? Grim: Yer always greet me affably, Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family! Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see? Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy, my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND, Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily, Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly! Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day! Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, At making friends, I lost the ability… Being flat-bound, & many a disability, Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me, Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny… Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie… So, despite everything, I feel lucky, I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery… Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity! When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me! Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony! Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly… Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly… Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly, Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity? Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery, Cephalometry, specifically craniometry, I go willingly and happily… Grim: Why happily & willingly? Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready, Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness, despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious, How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness? Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening, Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating… Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating! Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating, one event watery, the next constipating… Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting… Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking! Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing, The stove blew up, so; no cooking, The intercom broke, so there was no communication… Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in, Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing, Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching! When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming… Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting, While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing, Someone may also be texting or emailing… Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing! The Catheter bag slowly filling… Back to the flat for emptying, Usually when the delivery will be arriving! Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying, And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding! Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating, Then my grip on things starts deteriorating, Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting, Dementia & PN, I start chastising, The computer requires defragging, But how to, I’m not remembering, Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling, The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating… My mind turns to food and eating, The bread is wet from the bottles bursting, Soaked with a shandy flavouring, Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning, Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting! And you wonder why I don’t mind dying? Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.
I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.
I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once. The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?
I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so, had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.
So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.
I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.
Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.
I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).
Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.
I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.
I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.
Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.
New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,
An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed myrent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me. At the bottom, I found this: ‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’! I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!
I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!
I went to get the meal cooked. I had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?
Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!
MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW! What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no! Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!
Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Now HMG oozes sycophantishlier, Starmer, the hater of the farmer… Robber of every pensioner, Ever ready to take a backhander, A well-proven by-omission expert liar, Self-Wealth being his main desire, What’s he doing in Labour? He’d make a better dictator… His compassion is in absentia, Labour values, he does besplatter, With Oligarch’s, he’s getting chummier, He seems a qualified puppetmaster, Like Goebbels, he’s good at propaganda, As he leads the UK to disaster! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night! The Bug is Back. Influenza Norovirus. Sore throat, chesty cough with the odd painful sneeze here and there. Wheezing, aches & pains of the joints. Runny nose and eyes.
04:00hrs: Gave up trying to sleep and got up. Feeling so weary, achy and confused at the same time. I soon felt the pain from the weighty, overfull day pouch tugging at Little Inchy when I got out of bed. Last night, I felt even more confused and realised that the Diabetic socks had not been removed, and the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch had not been attached.
Not a good start to the day. (Little change here, then!)
Computer on, finished yesterday’s short blog and posted it.
Made a tentative start on this blog. Noticing that the stomach cramps were getting worse as the time passed. Humph!
An instant demand from the innards had me scuttling to the wet room to get to the water closet in time to avoid the assessed coming of an involuntary evacuation… I didn’t make it in time! What a frustrating affair! It took me ages to clean up. It was such a messy, smelly, sticky evacuation. Red-Face-Engaged!
Carer Richard arrived. I knew he’d been off work, but I thought it was just because of the flu, but he mentioned his accident at home. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the washing machine door and knocking it off. Waking up hours later, covered in blood! Concussed. Poor lad, he appears to be as lucky as I am, which is not lucky, of course, well, not good luck.
I’m still doing better in the Health Check returns this week.
But sleep, or rather the lack of it, that’s another issue that defeats me. This afternoon, just like last week, I felt so drained that I attempted to use all my experience to try and get some!
I ate some battered fish balls to settle my stomach. Put the TV on, usually one guarantee of nodding off, and sat in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. With my feet up on the chair, the recliner does not work.
Four hours later, I was still wide awake and yet desperately needed sleep. I was pondering over whether I should move onto the hospital bed.
The door chime chimed out – It was Frank, Jenny’s husband. He bought a camera for me to use from Jenny. ♥ I was immediately off into a worried mode that it might go wrong while I had it. Thanked him for Jenny. We had a lovely little laugh about things we were suffering with. Frank has only just got over the Flu Novavirus himself. So kind of them. And Tim Price, my cyber-mate in New Mexico, has said he will send me a new Kodak camera to use. I’m being well cared for here. Bless them!
Carers Selina and Simon made the subsequent calls. I laid on the bed, lights out, and the curtain drawn. I got plenty of lethargy, languor, and listlessness but no sleep!
So, I started updating this blog.
Photographs taken today: Puffer clouds. Afternoon sunburst. Sunset. Sunset zoomed-in. Not a good one, but the moon. Evening all! Not used to the camera yet. (Excuse! Hehe!)
I made next week’s food order. J Sainsbury this time. Tuesday 4th February 6>10a.m.
I went on WordPress Reader, did the ablutions and put my head down. The TV failed to get me to sleep.
Finally, I started to drift off a few times, but each time, I’d wake with a helluva jerk and jump, shooting to the right, creaking & cracking the neck.
I gave up at 04:10hrs and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – In my dream, were things terrestrial, Thoughts, hopes, desires, nothing bestial, Treaties, warrants, insurances, so torchable,
Guilty, Oligarchs, politically, & legally untouchable,
Due to our lawmakers being so quickly bribable,
MPs values, honesty, reliability at best theoretical,
How have they solved the Bermuda Triangle?
The mystery seems to be uncrackable,
No-hours contracted workers, legally sackable,
Farmers, pensioners, HMG find robbable,
MPs expenses no longer seem checkable?
Proven dishonest leaders are impeachable?
Guilty murderers are so quickly freeable?
Ministers are unpalatable, unpardonable…
Them lining their pockets seems unstoppable,
Morals & standards are sacrificeable,
Decency & compassion are no longer salvageable,
Despotical bigotry, actions detestable…
Wars, violence, greed everywhere detectable,
Can we trust anything electoral?
Politicians are doubtable, dishonourable,
Do they need help, exorcistical?
They are unceasing with their flummadiddle,
They’ll always seek a way to fiddle!
They are the reason the world’s in such a pickle!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon. Last night, none of the others made it to the SD card, but this one did! (Or did it?). I half expected it not to go on. I spent ages trying to get the card recognised, and when I eventually got to it, this photo was there! There is a chance it may be an old one, of course. So, I took another picture straight away… that did not go on. The second, third, and fourth ones didn’t make it either. Now I’m doubting what I actually had for the meal. With the others not going on, I think it is likely that I made a mistake somewhere along the line. My new excitement at thinking the camera had miraculously started working again was replaced with a new low – mostly at my stupidity in thinking this was from last night. Humph! Confusionableitis Reigned. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Once again, the night’s rest was well-broken. However, I soon nodded off after each awakening, back into the bliss of sleep. I had several dreams, but my memories are too vague to guess at their topics. When I shot awake at 7:00 a.m. and realised it was so late, I also realised that I must have skipped at least six hours. So that was good. Then the run started. I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and started standing up using . Within seconds I was clunking back down into c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Unsure if , or hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!
I cleaned up and medicated the lower regions first. Then the areas, then the rear end. Then, the Phorpaining of both Cartilage Chloe and Carole’s cartilages moved onto knees. Olive-oiled the ears, applied, and Creosoted the Ankle Ulcer. I’ve named it Creosoted because it reminds me of it when I painted it on. Haha! Then, I decided to get the showering and shaving done. I had to get a long shirt and fresh dressing gown sorted first. I’d run out of clean shirts! These can’t be washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that. This, of course, got me all confused. I ended up washing another shirt in the sink. Hanging it up to dry over the sink… but the shirt was too long. I went into Sherlockian Mode to work out what I could do? Finally, deciding to hang it on the shower rail with a bowl underneath to catch the water. I very nearly adopted a . I went back to the wet room and hung them up. Of course, now I couldn’t get in the shower. So I pressed on with having a shave. As I’d got the foam on, I dropped the can. I held onto the seek carefully as I bent to pick it back up – naturally, the foam was on the sink, and my hand slipped! . I hit the top of my head on the Porcelain. Carried on with the shaving and noticed a trickle of blood coming from the top of my head in the mirror. As I went to grab the aftershave, I knocked the long shirt off of the rail… it fell into the water below… I swore rather vociferously, as I recall. I retrieved the shirt and rehung it, all freshly rewetted. Huh! The blood had by now left a pretty pattern down the side of my head, over my chin, and onto my man breasts & chest. I used paper towels to clean it. Using a lot of aftershave to stem the flow. Back to finishing the shaving… The shaving was completed within a minute or two. By this time, a similar pretty pattern of the leaking blood had reappeared.
Off to the medical chest to get a plaster cleaned after shaving the tiny little wound and applying a plaster. Then I wrote on the memory pad, which enabled me to write this rubbish in detail later. I had to sort out the mess in the kitchen from earlier, the wet room, and the shirts. What did I do? I decided the most crucial task was to make a brew of tea, which I did! However, I didn’t get to drink it. Carer Chloe arrived at 08:50 hrs on her first visit.
She pointed out that I had blood running from my head—haha! She wiped it and put a plaster on it while I bore her with tales of my calamities of the day. She then issued the medications and put on the diabetic socks. She also took the laundry with her, including two long shirts. That was kind of her. She was due back later on a domestic call.
As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened! This evacuation was the messiest ever! Well, not counting the involuntary one when I had the stroke, of course). Gooey in the extreme! An entire toilet roll standard! Stinky! .
I’m no longer as confident of events as I was earlier. Things got foggier when Carer Chloe returned. She’d kindly returned the washing all done apart from the long-shirts. They could not be used in a hot drier, and the ones in the laundry room do not have that facility. So, she hung them back up on the shower rails again. All that help is back at square one. Hehe! How can people talk about being bored in old age? If, as I have, one becomes accustomed to Accifauxpas, Whoopdiedangleplops & evil luck, it certainly avoids any chance of boredom setting in. Just a point, but I’d rather like time to get some being bored in! Not too much! I just want to see what it is all about. Of course, I have the benefits of Cogniscent Impairment Iris, FND, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, & Seizure Sandra’s attentions. Is having all four of these ailments probably better than having just one? I’m not confident or sure of how I worked that out now. But it seemed apparent & logical to me at the time.
Chloe checked on the dates of the food. I asked her to take some short-dated items for others to use. She washed the main kitchen windows for me and quickly wiped the floor.
Tomorrow, I think, is a finance visit. Maryham, I guess.
Carer Sam called. We had a precious laugh.
Pressed on with the blog. But such a late start. I’m miles behind with things yet.
It’s now mid-afternoon. Not a single seizure from Sandra has not reported a single seizure. However, I’m sure the mini-ones have been missed in the past.
17:20hrs: Carer Rachel did the teatime call.
I gave up on this blog and went on WP Reader & Comments.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’s ODE When an ankle-snapper, my questions got cupboarded, Always complicated; the house was candlelighted, We had gas: non-payment meant this was sequestered, Things didn’t bother me then; life was uncomplicated, Even when Mother ran away to avoid being arrested, To head cook, washer and cleaner, I superseded, Dad got me part-time jobs – as if they were needed! On weekday mornings, I made sure Dad was breakfasted, Then rush to school to be bullied & headbutted, From school to do the paper round hurried, Back home to get Dad’s meal, the fire prepared, Happy days… to me, this felt normalised, Of course, not knowing when I get octogenarianised, That I’d physically & mentally get disableised, Or be flat-bound, high in a High Rise, Or the Pensioner’s fuel allowance would be shanghaied! Or the end of the world would be visualised, Nor would I consider getting myself schnockered. Or stuffed with Morphine & Beta-Blockered, The line above would not have been included, If Starmer & Dementia hadn’t obtruded!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sunday morning: I stirred, for the first morning for five days on the trot… without the grating cough greeting me. Boy, this was a good moment. Finally, the ‘bug’ was weakening and letting me know this. No adoption of any . Too cautious for that.
I’d just had a night’s sleep of over six hours duration, and it was grand! I removed the nocturnal night pouch and sat there pondering and getting myself uptight at the many things I could not rectify. The Banking details, the medication shortages, etc.
When joined in, I heard, or thought I heard an alarm of some sort. I went on the hunt to try and find what it was that had sounded. The Alert Alarm? No! The Intercom? No! The Water Tap Leak alarm? No! A Text Message? No! The electricity panel showed no lights. Ah, was it the door chime? Nope! This made me think it may have been the Foyer Intercom, so I looked out the door, and nothing was there. Had I ing that I’d forgotten about?
It’s time to turn on the computer and take a look. There was nothing on it for today. I did note that I’d put the Iceland order on the wrong day for next week. I corrected it (I hope) after going to Iceland to confirm the difference first.
Carer Selina came in without ringing the buzzer, fritted me as she stood behind me, and greeted me with a cheery face. Hahaha!
She confirmed the colour grading on the NHS chart as a 7, but I put it down as a five in the Excel graphic for some reason. Then she got a pair of diabetic socks fitted, and I asked her if she’d seen my laundry anywhere. It had been three days. She skipped down to take a look and returned with the laundry bag. Bless her. She issued the medications and had to rush off.
When I put the things away, I found smears of fluff growing from the laundry room floor over the dressing. It’s not unusual. All the socks were there this time, and there were no extras, unlike when I had gained a bra and a pair of ladies’ knickers.
I got onto WordPress to start on this blog. And what a disaster the first two paragraphs were! I could barely understand what it was I’d been trying to say! Ultimately, I gave up and deleted it, starting from scratch.
Carer Simon arrived for the midday slot. I took the opportunity to mention the laundry. The problem was finding out where my bank passwords were. I pointed out that I was not complaining; I just wanted to know they were in hand. I also explained the medication shortages in detail. Simon said he’d try to find out for me on Monday and look into the medications’ situation to try and get me some clarity. Thank you.
Back to WordPressing. I replied to the comments of my hoard of followers. All three are friendly people. Then I went on the Blog Reader viewing.
Carer Richard made the last call. I was having my very first long seizure of the day at the time. Nothing to report from a blank, vague memory. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Somethings coming… I know not what… The Grim Reaper with his chariot? What will be lost, found, mistaken or misbegot? May I choke on medications or chocolate? My Glaucoma op arrived? That’d be a shock, Mayhap never another seizure or mental block? A Bhagat just may be begat or wot? Politicians may do things without a subplot? No, that’s asking too much, what? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I could never do a headstand, I’ve never had a house husband, I did once get stuck in the heathlands, Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, I found a hairband on my hatstand?
I was confused, not worried, I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid, Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed, No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid? More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…
The computer was acting like an invalid, So many problems I was fumid, I’m giving up now; it makes me sick. There must be someone who can help me a bit… I’ve got no teeth left to grit,
On my second night without sleep or rest, Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist, Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.
The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous, The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us… Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding, I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.
The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, The sore throat hurt so much when coughing, It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!
After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous, This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.
I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼
I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired? This bug is a bugger!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Last night, I spent coughing very chestily, And kept sneezing cacophonously, Passing wind virtually continuously…
From Reflux Roger and my bottie,
Freezingly and shiveringly, My tears ran down into my mouth; rather salty, Little Inchie’s fungal lesion bled capriciously… Sleep? Well, that was an impossibility, I was dealing with these new ailments intolerantly,
But Thought Storming Steve gave no claptrappery, I gave up trying to do things somnambulatory,
And escaped the bed to the lavatory, Trotsky Terence came prematurely… This was most shamefully embarrassingly! Then, the job of doing the cleaning, More problems when I started computing… Gmail graphics on it, refusing! I took Codeine and an Adrenocorticotrophin, Got my mask on, and Carer Chloe came in, As she sorted the medicationing… The food delivery was arriving… The driver took the bags through to my kitchen,
I forgot to ask Chloe to put my socks on…
Today, there was many an omission,
Chloe left, and I sank into a state of curmudgeon,
As I fought back the incoming depression,
Second Throne visit – even more humiliating,
What am I dreaming of, imagining, indicating?
Diabetic Dementia, mind juggling…
Yet this cold seemed more worrying & bothering?
Enough of my self-tormenting, witwantoning,
I going to get this Ode done, then my bed I will jump in,
Carer Sam called, and I was moaning…
My self-pity vessel was filling,
Life is not very fulfilling…
I’ll battle on, but I’m not genuinely willing,
My bad luck seems unrelenting,
Onto the bed, I’ll soon be settling,
Will I be able to manage to get some sleeping?
If owt happens, that’s worthy of writing,
Anything worth reporting…
No camera for photographing…
Where am I going?
What am I doing?
What will ensue for me?
Maybe a summat will happen. That’s thrilling…
Enchanting, stirring, exhilarating?
Huh, blood from the teeth & gums are flowing!
Onto the bed, in search of Sweet Morpheus,
Oh, I’m expecting the nurse…
Hristina, a lovely, kind gal, an Aquarius
I love to see her and her apparatus! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sleep didn’t come, but apprehensiveness did,
The next few hours were fetid, which made me livid,
Getting no sleep, but I felt almost intrepid…
The following events didn’t make me stolid, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Here are the reasons why I hadn’t slept, An alarm went & stopped, Then there rang out a fire alarm, I panicked An alarm went beep-beep-beep-bleep & stopped, I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped, The landline rang, someone had phoned… I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Again, the landline rang; too late, the ringing stopped, An alarm went beep-beep-beep and stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped, After five hours a minute’s sleep, I was gifted,
Then the alarm went beep-beep-beep & stopped,
Carer Chris came in, into the drinks selection he dived,
Then, a drink was chosen & correlated,
Again, the landline rang; someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Then Cartilage Carol once again crumpled,
But a complete fall was deflected…
The leg was medicated & elastoplasted,
An alarm going beep-beep-beep was emitted, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Chris had forgot to bring the camera,
But he took a shot of the meal & bilgewater! And the hospital bed, & controller, On his phone, saved these to his SND recorder,
Said he’s off work for 72 hours,
Wants to be with his wife, who is now pregnanter, Carer Richard & Joanne off, both much poorlier, I know how they feel with acute coryza, Head cold, grinding-coughing, known as Flu-R, It is unpleasant and a right miserable bugger! I tried to get some sleep, but it was deactivated… But my plans were again ascerbated…
Don’t come to hospital, sufferers are told…
The hospitals are so busy, shemozzled,
My plans, ideas, & hopes have been sphacelated,
Flu-R is so bad that I’m dumbfounded,
If I stood up, moved or even quetched,
Ailments these last two days have quintuplicated! I feel my designs have been mancipated,
My thoughts could do with being manumitted,
shame, embarrassment, teeth always gritted!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, I felt as if I was apprenticing…
Coping with this new bug or flu and learning,
I rang 111 to ask what I could be taking?
To counter the constant sneezing?
My heavy breathing and wheezing?
My impossibility to get any sleep in?
Can I take an alcoholic drinkie?
To counter the phlegm & blubbering?
NHS 111 said don’t take Aspirin…
Cause you’re on Finasteride & Warfarin,
Well, that was not very informing!
Then they added I’m not to go to hospital…
Doreen Dementia understood it was elemental, I considered bringing up my mental problems.
The line went dead; it was pretty comical! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Figures show urgent and emergency services, with 98,118 ambulances handed over to hospitals last week and 495,442 calls received by NHS 111. No wonder they are struggling to cope with the stampede!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m fed up with this bug! Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If I say that today was an odd day, this would be an understatement, a mild euphemism, and an undeniable matter-of-fact. Morning Carer Selina arrived. She medicated me and put on the socks, and after the gal had gone, I’d lost the plot with what I was going to type. Sad, innit?
The day continued in this mould. There were a few Out-of-it moments. Either I fell asleep, had mind blanks, or had a few Non-Epilectic Seizures. Take your pick; it could be any one of them. Or perhaps a mixture. Occasionally, when I returned to imitation life, I found I’d been working on something on the computer while mentally AWOL, with no memory of doing so! On other occasions, I’d done nothing whatsoever as far as I could ascertain. Also, before Selina departed, she took photos of the wee-wee I released into the jug…
The fluffy bits of whatever were back again! But the nurse last month wasn’t worried. I’m sure it will be alright. Likely, it was bits of my prostate coming out. Cause when the Specialist Doctor put me on the Finasteride tablets for a month.
Hoping they will reduce the size of my prostate to let me manually wee again. So the month’s course is now a year-long one, and still, they ply me with more Prostate (RIP)-killing capsules?
A touch of overkill here, methinks. This is what makes me believe it’s the residue of my prostate floating in the jug of released urine? I don’t know, really. You never know; the Finasteride may have already done for the prostate and has now moved on to another organ to murder? Hehe!Haha!
I hope it doesn’t have a go at a larger organ; that would be pure agony to try and get whatever it was through Little Inchy and the Catheter’s narrow tube. (Inchy laughs weakly) With Confusion reigning again within my poor brain.
Concentration was as bad as it’s been for months today.
I’ll have to rush now; it’s Monday (10:15hrs), and as usual, I’m miles behind with the blog. I’ll have to comment quickly on the photos if I can recall the moment I took them. I’m so frustrated! And this morning (Mon), when I did the ablutions, I turned on the fan heater, and the room was filled with Acne and Eczema bits blown from all over my chubby, belly-dominated body. I don’t know why I told you that?
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A better colour this morning.
The sun was creeping up from the rear left of the blocks of prison cells—no, no, flats! It gave this shot a specific flavour, but I forgot what word I was going to use.
It’s safe to say that the oven burn scar will soon start to crumble off of the hand. It’s not easy taking photos with one hand.
Out came the new cordless hoover with its headlights on when in use. I think I’ll name it Vacuum Victor.
Had a good long session on the crossword before I could encourage Conrad to free it.
I caught my hand on the rack as I grabbed the toilet roll, and bits of a green-looking scar dropped off. It has taken eleven days to heal. I’d better not pick at it, though.
Afternoon and evening sky snaps. Pareidolia’s Delight. Faces, bird heads, a human head… A taser, a beast with an open jaw, and a bird with an open beak—it’s incredible how many things I spotted today. This is the last of the sky shots I took. I took some later ones without the SD card being inserted into Kodak Tim. Tsk! It could happen to anyone, (he says).
16:20hrs: Carer Ali arrived as I sat down to have the meal. The feasting was resumed after he’d gone. Baked beans with BBQ seasoning were added to some tomatoes and veggie sauce, mini vegan sausages, and chips, and I had such a hard time getting grime off the oven tray. I tried cleaning it, but I gave up and threw it away! Hence, the chips were mangled, but I still enjoyed them, even if they had cooled too much. The pot of jelly was of a sour-type one. Nice & Tangy! I put the TV on until Carer Richard arrived. He suffered from leg problems and was in pain, so there was no laughter tonight; bless his cotton socks. Gave him a cold drinkie, and he soon had me sorted. Diabetic socks removed.
Even I had to laugh at the mess I got myself into getting into the hospital bed tonight. Farcical? Yes? But at the time, it was also humorous. I’d done the safety checks on the taps cooker, etc., and pulled the curtains back to get as much light in the room as possible; this was to try to avoid needing to use the torch. Turned off the lights and edged my way in the semi-darkness, along the bed, towards the operating thingy… I trod on a power socket extension that slightly made me jump. I knocked the overbed mini-table over, followed it onto the floor, and tripped again over the walking stick that had been knocked over as well. I wish this was being recorded in something other than my memory! It was worthy of being a Brian Rix-type Farce! As I struggled with my painful knees, which took me ages and started to foolishly, unthinkingly pull myself up using the bed as a grip… What a Plonker! Of course, the loose quilt on the bed assured my falling back down onto the floor and my bum again! I did feel like a silly old fool! and started bleeding, I was back to square one, on the floor in agony! I somehow walked on my knees to the recliner to get myself upright again. The grief from Cartilages Chloe and Carole was so bad that when I did manage to haul up my elephantine-stomached body onto my feet again, I took a Codeine, creamed the Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and Phorpain-Gelled both knees and Back-Pain-Brenda! I rose upright to make my way to the bed again… No, there’s more to come yet!
I fought my way carefully and cautiously into the hospital bed, using the torch this time. Within seconds of finding a comfortable position, the need for me to use the Porcelain Throne arose! I was extra heedful and got to the wet room without further hindrances. The flow started as my bottom hit the plastic lid. It came and came… and came! It was a Kharki, almost liquid type of evacuation. You know, the kind that leaves an uncomfortable sensation in your innards… well, my innards!
The cleaning up afterwards took a long time. I had to clean and medicate again.
Then, a high alert mode was adopted for the trip back to the long overdue, belated sleeping on the bed. Amazingly, all went well with the return trip! I had a few hiccups getting into the bed, but they are not worth mentioning. I think I drifted off into the land of Sweet Morpheus Post-Haste. I woke up after a decent amount of time with a vivid memory of the farce in my mind. So, So, I scribbled down some notes to use here.
