– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Neil Kinnock saidz? Was that an error from the news sight, or did I make it? No, not me, not never. Me? Make a mistake, cock something up… surely not. A man of my edukation and calibre? – 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A confoundingly confusing day, with crises galore!
A spirit-crippling day.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:00hrs: What a hue to the morning view.
And flowed, and splattered…
Shaving while standing in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to clean the feet, I could not reach, resulted in a cut-free session! I can’t say the same for teeth cleaning, cracked lips or nose. Oh, and of course, as per usual, 
, & 
were leaking the haemoglobin freely.
By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work.
Galore! ensued
The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final 
lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! 
Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet 
to life.
Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?
I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, 
which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult. 
She had stiffened up something awful with all the bending and movement she’d been forced into. Just getting the leg in the pants required the use of the picker-upperer, and some cunning tactics had to be employed with this task. I got my bum up against the sink and lowered the pants with the picker-upperer, I needed both hands, so I was taking a bit of a risk if the bum slipped, I was going to go down. The right hand helps lift the leg up high enough, and the left-hand uses the picker-upperer to guide the opening to the foot. On the 
fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants. 
, was not in such a 
bad mood. Hehehe! At last, I got the PPs on and slippers on. Only to find out that they had gotten wet and bloodied during the Wet Room Rumble! Aching, hurting, wet, and somewhat peeved off, I checked the taps (faucet) were turned off… and needed another sitting on the 
. What a change!
I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette.
A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the 
main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue.
The Wet Room Farce cost me over 2½ hours, not to mention the pain, blood, and temper not doing my health very good! I didn’t recover properly from the episode. strangely, the 
tube inserted into poor 
, calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!
Sorted the bags out. A new carer arrived.
Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.
Another new Carer arrived.
A long one!
During this, two caregivers called, and I have no memory of them at all! I saw they had signed in the log. Work, albeit messy and error-prone, had been done on the blog. Also, on CorelDraw?Â
I took these Kodak Tim shots of the wonderful clouds in the slowly darkening sky.
The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the 
computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb.Â
The catheter day pouch colour was the lightest it’s ever been! But, an hour later when I was getting into the bed… yes the bed, not the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. But the Social people donated an ex-used hospital bed! Initially, 
kicked 
off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it.
rang out, and in came Carer Richard.
This, as it so often does, left me a smidge—what’s the word? Confused will do. After Richard left, and I was climbing back into the ex-NHS bed, I was in panic mode! Did I turn the 
taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles!
The hot water had been left running and ran cold!
I’m hoping for a better day tomorrow!
Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
throughout the day, added up to only four!
Night pouch.
Medicationings.
My ankles look fine.
The first emptying of the day bag.
Opening the balcony windows.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!
Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.
I took this night view and got settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep
back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
& 
both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
pain relief. 
04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git! 
Urine is even darker.
This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!
While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.
End car park view.
…
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
.
Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.
Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
Dark, too dark again.
The first one was fairish, the second warped.
The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful 
and medicating session ever! Things have not been right down there since the last nurse replaced the catheter. I don’t need to move, and he hurts! If I could, I’d bottle the pain and send it to the Doctors with a note: “Here you are, try some of this now will you listen to me and help?”
Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. IÂ struggled to stop 
, Cream on the 
. Barrier Creamed all around 
. Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
Worst Ablution Session in a long time.
Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.
What an amazing hue!
Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little 
… I love this one. Â 
.
.
.
.