INCHIE TODAY: Friday 20th January 2023

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What a day. Easy-Link cannot get me to the doctor’s in Monday
Internet Banking farce. Kara tried to help in her own time. Smashing that was so kind of her. Had to phone the bank, with Kara translating what was said. And ran out of time; she had to get to work. Said she’ll try again later to get it sorted. Nothing is getting solved, and I’m spending so much time failing! I’d have been right in the Phoo if it wasn’t for her help.
So, here is a condensed, fact-missing version of Inchie Today, today. Thank heavens for the photos to remind me; too busy to make reminder notes!

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Bad night’s sleep.
But the wee-weeing was betterer, more of it!

Morning view.

The front room searched for the missing Nokia.

Carer, First time putting a new catheter in.
working well, new valves confused me at first.

Porcelain Throne. I think that Trotsky Terence is weakening his grip on the evacuationing… had time to have a go at the crossword.

Stripped and got a stand-up wash and shave.
Cut shaving, tooth bleeding, and stubbed my toe on the damned dangerous Sock-Glide Glenda. (Didn’t use her thought) No socks on unless I have to go out. This week coming, I’ve got three medical appointments to go to… So Sock-Glide-Glenda will no doubt have fun injuring me. Haha!

Oh, I left the hot tap running again!

Later, view after the ablutioning, medicationing and dressing.

Computer on, Email from Iceland.
Yes, that;s the order I thought I’d made for next Wednesday.
Pillock!

Iceland Order arrived.

I love those mini roast potatoes. But with them coming so early, had to open the packs and put them in lose to get them in the freezer. Not only that but to get the cheesy potato special offer ready-made meals in, I had to dish some of the stuff already in the freezer to make room!

At least the wee-wee was, I thought, flowing much better.
Until I realised how minuscule the new bag was! Huh! When Kara left. I was little confused with all the lava over the banking and decided to have an early meal. One one the cheesy meals…

Oh, Boy! It was delicious! The best ready-made tasting meal I’ve ever had!
Of course, I added some ersatz lardons and BBQ sauce after it was cooked.
TASTE RATING: 9.5/10!

Oh, the bag is full again.
Is the urine infection clearing? Smile...
Oh, no, it’s a small pouch. I forgot there.

Sunset through the balcony window!

Blimey, that filled up quick!

Carer Kara came to put the night bag on and give me medications.
Medicaitonalised me. Then went to the computer and in five minutes, You should see her fingers go! Hehe! She’d sorted the banking card out, now working, and put the new card on Iceland, Asda & Amazon for me! ♥
What a Wizard! Thanked her muchly.
I would have been struggling to do any of those things on my own. Well, I couldn’t have done it at all!

I finished this blog and got the TV on. New Tricks followed by Hustle on the box. What are the chances of me staying awake? Minimal comes to mind.

Morning Catch-Up

Mystery Photo
Any guesses?
I’ve no idea!

Worked on the computer for a while longer.
Carer Kara had set things up with the leak bowl on the

hand side of the chair for me.

A comfortable set-up. Thanks, Kara!

I watched TV. I Fell asleep, of course.

And this morning, I found these photos while searching for another…

Some old Favourites from years gone by.
Quatermass is just about my favouritest one.

Cheery-bye, thanks!

INCHIE TODAY: Saturday 14th January 2023

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I stirred. Past wind and then blood from . It was a struggle to remove, and finally  I did, & But being the fave heroic, pain-taking, sod-em-all that I am, it was no sweat taking the agony from the Mystery-Rib-pains as I bent down.  , well  Hehe! I stopped crying anyway. There was not much wee-weeing done overnight again.
I went to the wet room on a mission of several natures: To clean up the blood from the legs, pants and jammie bottoms. Respond to the need of the Clean the teeth, have a shave, wash & medicate my delicates, front and rear… but these plans were destroyed completely by the being in charge for weeks of rear-end evacuations, . The seine caught me out big time this morning!
acci-whoop, he kicked off spurting and spraying the porcelain, tank floe and me with his watery gooey, stinking light brown excrement.

Embarrassed doesn’t seem a strong enough word to use for how I felt, somehow. Ashamed? Uncomfortable? No..
. It’s even cringeworthy writing about it. I should have left this bit out, shouldn’t I? Sorry! But it’s how things are nowadays. How my life has dwindled to a fight to do the simplest things is so disheartening. There’s always something to impede the simplest of actions, even threatening to go right.
Appointment either waited on, transport to be arranged for. Worried in case the time and dates would clash when they did arrive. Cataract repair and new Cornea at the QMC EENT Centre. They cannot do the cataract in the left eye until the right one is done and settled. Then there is Glaucoma in the left eye; and Saccade in the right eye… Tsk! I’ll never live long enough to get them done!  I was looking forward to seeing what St. Peter looks like at the gates, as well. Hehehe!
The Coppice, next visit in February. Brain Scans are to be done to find out which type of Doreen Dementia I have.
The DVT Clinic and the Warfarin anticoagulation Clinic appointments have been cancelled and may or may not be reissued.
The Audio Clinic is desperately needed with the satiate of my ears and hearing. The crap, dodgy dentists, I can’t get another NHS one with the state of things with all the strikes etc.
Going back in apparently in a fortnight, as the catheters are not clearing the bladder of urine at all.
Then the Urology nurses will be calling to check on the catheter and give me more bladder scans.
Hopefully, not changing the catheters too often – that’s a damned painful process. Since the urine infections started, when I found blood in the urine and passed it from the rear end, about six weeks ago, I had a change of catheters; 3 times at the QMC A&E, Eight times; in the ward. And four times on home visits by the nurses. Although the pain might be worth it.

The Warfarin nurse will be taking blood to work out the INR level – and that’s well out of target.

The mystery pains in the ribs side and back still need sorting out. I’ve mentioned them twice to the Doctors, once at the Urology and to the Carers here. They are acute stabbing pains that come on when I stretch with the right arm or raise it too high. Oh, and if I bend down…

But one must look on the bright side of life, as Brian said. At least no one has shot me for nearly 22 years. This prompts me to tell you that the Mystery Rib pains hurt more than being shot! But does anyone show interest or concern about the old fool? No!
I got carried away there, didn’t I?

You see, one day, someone will read this blog – hopefully, a neurologist who can help me with the , or heavens above, with the guilty of giving me many a tumble … or not.

Where was I before I lost the plot? Look at the time, blimey! 15:15hrs already. Back to the Diary, methinks. I’ll have to cut this short.

The kind, caring. vampire in the flat above. launched into one of his clunk-thudding mechanical serenades.
Give him credit; he is a good musical noise maker.
Fair enough, he may be impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable tit-head, but his clanging and banging are ringing out musically this morning. I was nearly sorry when he stopped so soon.

I mopped the kitchen with the speed-mop. This proved to be such a mistake. Trying to mop with a stick in one hand, mop in the other, and stupidly bending and stretching to get into the corners – kicked off the bloody mystery rib pains stagging away, as bad as they’ve ever been, and they kept on for hours and hours. And I still haven’t got around to teeth cleaning, shaving and washing yet!

Carer Kara called – medications done, chinwag for a bit, and catheter checked.

Fourth trip to the throne. Usual Trotsky Terence performance

Two bags of laundry still to do in the junk room. Can’t remember who, Carer Kara or Carer Lisa (guessing here, can’t remember who came, really). But the bags had gone later.

Took these photos in two different modes on the Lumix.
Can’t see much difference in them anyway.

Blogging away for hours… well, a say blogging away; it was more like making errors and errors and throwing in a few more for good measure.
And the were rather numerous, which cost me a lot of time.

No idea why I took this photograph of the carer’s table. I wonder if it was some inspirational idea for a sauciness for some sort of a laugh?
Suppose not.

Almost got caught out again with the new small catheter pouch.
I soon had it sorted out.

The Virgin Internet is far too slow for me and has the odd freezing moment? Not very good at all.

Did I mention the tea and porridge?

Or crap parking?

Milky wee-wee?
No, it’s Dettol, you see.

Better get some food sorted out.
Photo Lost: Due to my leaving the SD card in t
he computer when I took the shot.
But I also blame … and the! Well, why not?

After cleaning the pots and making a brew afterwards, the immediate urge to use the arrived, and I rushed to the wet room…
acci-whoop I did not make it in time. The sticky, gooey, runny evacuation started before I’d got the pants and PPs beyond the mess of the catheter paraphernalia.

I am sick of this happening. Telling the doctors brought no response from any one of them; Doctor’s Locum at the surgery, QMC A&E, or the three Doctors I told when at the .
Now, the Mystery Rib Stabbing Pains got worse than they had ever been before. It was properly painful and came on, as usual, every time the right hand pressed on something, stretched, or was raised.
I suppose the panic rushing to get to the Throne and struggle with the trews must have been too much movement, and this kicked it off?

Arrived, she tried to ring 111, but she could not get through. Which was not surprising for a Saturday night. The winos, drunks, injured gang members etc., would all be blocking up the A&E and telephone lines by now.

Returned for the final call and Night Catheter fitting.
Meanwhile, I had a wash & shave and bagged up some things that might be needed if I go to the hospital again. Then Jo-Anne  and Carer Ty called to see how I was.

I found that if I did not move, the stabbing pains in the ribs were coming less often and not so sharp. Or was I imagining this?

The physical and mental decrepitude. The obliteration of sight, hearing and logic. Combined with a lack of confidence, my ability to fret and worry over everything, and the vain attempts to understand life and people. Combined with my failure to comprehend what and why the hell am I doing here… keeps the brain active, if nothing else. If the brain was not under the control of , and the body ruled by  Ailments such as, things could be better!

TTFNski!

INCHIE TODAY – Tuesday 10th January 2023

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Another ran out-of-time-day. Sorry if it is out chronologically,
mistakes-wise or if other errors appear. Mostly been created from photos and what few memory notes I scribbled – the brain seems to have gone on strike!
It’s the in thing nowadays!

Took the catheter bag of myself this morning – I had to cause the need of the Porcelain Throne was urgently needed, and with the other clarities etc., over the last two days with tripping and treading on the tubing, I thought it best.
Over the first hour of actioning, my magnificent muscular, fit handsome body from the terrible night’s sleep, I had to use the Throne no less than four times! Every one of them was messy and gooey, with cleaning ups needed.
After the first session, I decided to get the ablutioning done.
Part way through, I was trying to stop the third shaving cut from bleeding at the time; I had to use the Throne again.
Suddenly flooded the mouth, I think I must have broken off a bit of tooth near the gum. I got up automatically to get some toilet paper to use to stem the flow… but the evacuation was still taking place.
acci-whoop I did genuinely feel . Nothing new there, then! It took me ages to clean up again, and I was beginning to get self-irritated!

Back to the front room, now attired in my day clothes but no socks, I’ll ask my mate Carer Richard to help with those. A bit nippy this morning.

After a while of computing, the catheter started itching. The catheter bag’s elastics had dropped down the leg.

However, Richard arrived then. He got the medications sorted and told me I had to take the new Antibiotic course again, starting now. So, I did.
He then told me, as I showed him the calendar… I’d put the Catheter removal on a wrong day, it was today, not tomorrow, so I changed it.

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I asked him if he’d help me get the specks on, please.
He said it would be best to ask the nurse/s when she/they take off
the catheter to put them on for you. To avoid any hassle while removing it? So I said I would. I’ll get something right today… surely I must?

Gave him some treats in thanks, and Richard checked the taps and stove.
Off he sent on his rounds. Bade him all the best and thanked him.

An hour or so later, when I was busily making cock-ups, and mistakes and forgetting what it was I was going to write after correcting the grammar I’d already written… I think? The was needed again.
But this time, unlike the eleven visits I’d made yesterday, had lost his grip on the process, and from nowhere, unexpectedly, my old friend had taken over command…


I was getting fed up with getting nowhere with the crosswords for ages. Counter the cracks on the ceiling… even had to give up on that. and are getting slowly worse. I picked my nose, whistled, and eventually, a mini-evacuation shot out of its own accord – the movement was over in seconds! annoying somehow.

Ah, a Highlight Event!
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The beautiful DVT-Warfarin Haematology nurse arrived as I was getting off of the . I thought at first it was the door chime ringing, and rushed to get the trews up, got out of the wet room door acci-whoop(And casually shoulder charged the door frame as I left the room), and realised it was the intercom going (It being lit-up helped me notice it, Hehe!)
Hristina asked me how the hospital visit went as she came in. Now that was lovely of her! ♥ And she listened when I told her, too! Wonderful!

Computing again. I decided this time, I would focus on a venom. I was tenacious in my determination to concentrate on what I was trying to do.
I think I went into a slight . It didn’t last long…

Mistakes, ha! Sometimes I see them as thumbing my nose at the puritans. That phrase I stole from a fellow WordPress blogger & poet named Paul. Thanks, mate! I’ve been waiting for a suitable time to use it. (And remember it!

Visits from, and a nasty, but very rare in a sat down position put an end to my planned venture into pretending I could be capable again.
Instead of acting like a wordsmith and getting on with the blogging, I had to go to the wet room to try and stop bleeding. Yes, the dance had tugged at the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… bloody? Bloody sore at this moment still! Even delicate might be the word. Tsk!

But it turned out lucky that I did go to the wet room.
The catheter pouch was on the point of bursting, I think. Again, I had a job to pull up the trouser leg, so dropped them instead and emptied the bag

I decided to get the potato out of the crock-pot. checked that it was cooked before she checked the taps and turned off the heater for me.

I sliced the overcooked potato and got it in the oven with the last of the potato rostis in the oven to crisp them up. The last of the tomatoes and the vegan frankfurters (which tasted great!) and along with the last of the pots of strawberry jam thingumajig dessert.

Later, not sure what happened between this and the last thing, a touch of Blanks, methinks.
I do recall taking these pictures, though. I’m pretty sure I took them in SCN Handheld Nightshot Mode.

Not that they came out very well, although the bottom one of the car park was not too bad. A touch of eeriness about it? Obviously, the first one was taken like that on purpose. Ahem!

Carer Richard Arrived for the late-night call, and I was watching TV.
We had a little natter, and Richard changed the catheter night bag.
We had a minute or two of pleasant nattering away, but the lad was ready for his bed, bless his cotton socks. I went with him, catheter bag in hand, to the door and locked it when Rich had left. They don’t like me doing this, but I can’t get the picture of the yobboes who came into the flat one night. If the key-safe would work for use, it would not be a problem.

Then I got on the computer again, re-determined to get it done.

MYSTERY PHOTO

Not sure how I managed to take this photo. It must have been as I was on the computer, and the TV was still on. Trigger-Finger Problems? Hehe!

Rotten night again. Forever waking up with a jolt!
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INCHIE TODAY – Sunday 8th January 2023

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Good Morning, Mon Amis. I’ve only just gotten around to doing the actual blog now. And it’s 15:30hrs already. Nowadays, everything is just taking too long to get done. The Mystery Lurgy chest and rib pains, Cataract Katey, Dementia Doreen, the lack of mobility with the Catheter needing emptying so often, changing from night to day bags… Concentration Conrad has gone to pot.
Ablutions take me two hours on average. Honestly!
Just getting dressed is a work of art and a strain and pain.
Will I ever see properly again? So I can do the Diary blog properly?

Will the Catheters be a permanent time-consuming feature on my manly, lean, mean, tough, muscular, hard masculine body?
So, I’ll put the photos on and anything of an exciting nature that may have occurred during the day. Not too much chance of that, though. Hehe!

I stirred into a pretend life, and as I moved the right leg, I forgot about the night catheter being attached and trod on the extended tubing while I supposedly caught my balance.
Realising my cock-up, I lifted the left foot from the tube… before I’d mastered the balance.
I tumbled back onto the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner. Landing on the arm and causing the delicate rear end to suffer a considerable clout!
At that exact moment, I must have caught the piping on my way down; the night bag began to leak!
(These tumbles seem to be almost quotidian this week)
As I was picking up the bowl and night bag, the need for the was sudden and urgent!
❹ I hastened ASAP to the wet room. But: unfortunately, ❺ and horrifically, I did not get there in time!
Messy job again, I got myself and the wet room furniture cleaned up…
And trod on the darned night bag; It burst open! More cleaning up. ❽ The bending down so often to clean things up yet again; started the Mystery Rib Cage Pains off! I detached the night bag and made sure I’d got the day bag valve closed.

I decided as I was in there, to get the done. Stripped off, which sounds and indeed used t lobe a simple job… until the Mystery Pains, Catheter and taking tumbles started this morning. Which went pleasantly well, actually. Considering the half-hour or so of constant cock-ups I’d just suffered.
Not a single cut shaving! The teeth bled a bit, although I tried to clean them gently. The eye-drop application went, as usual, more in the moustache than in the eye.
Getting clothes off to use the Throne was naturally done in haste, given the urgency of the need.
But getting the day clothes on was laboriously slow and hard work. The straps on the different type
of catheter bag had twisted and given me some new welts on my leg. Germolene applied. The new weekly day bag was already twisted, and it took me a while to get that sort of straightened top and bottom… ♫ Come on, let’s Twist again… ♫ Hahaha!
had been bleeding again.

After what seemed like hours… Oh, it was! Getting the bag, Porcelain Throning, ablutioning and getting dressed, I returned to the front room.
Had left it a mess last night. Hadn’t taken the waste bags with him or cleaned the medicine pot.
Also, he’s emptied the wee-wee bucket and not flushed the toilet. Amidst all the panic stations earlier, the stink was awful!

I got the Health Checks done. I was pleased to see I was in the High-Norm area again. Hoping for a hat trick in there tomorrow.

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Enjoyed taking these shots of the late, partially clouded-over moon.
Shame they were not so good, but still.

I took these a few hours later on. The seagulls were food hunting again.
If they stay much longer (the gulls), there will be no wildlife left!

The rib pains kicked off again, and my concentration crumbled.
Nothing was sticking in the brain. Memories were escaping.

And I was in the right state. Apart from Carer Ty coming, who the others were is unknown. I do recall asking Ty to make sure he flushed the WC after emptying the pouch or bucket and not to put anything else down the WC.

I kept finding things on this blog that I could not remember putting on it. I was particularly proud of ablutioning paragraphs. Did I do them? These Mind-Blanks do worry me sometimes. But not today. They were accepted as part & parcel of living with Dementia Doreen! That I find weird, too.

I’m sure I took a lot more photographs today.
But these below are the last three on the card at this time?

Apparently, taken as the night wore on?

Better get something to eat.
Very nice too!

Carer RichardArrived to get cataracts… no, not them; the night catheter attached to the day one. Nice to see him again, but he was a smidgen annoyed at the doctor amid hospital crossed lines and different instructions on my taking the antibiotics. Like me, Richard is not getting updated on medical things. He said someone was going to come in a few days to take the catheter out. I’ve heard nothing about this from anyone, either. No one called me to advise me at all?

Getting to sleep was difficult yet again, and staying asleep, was impossible to do. The springing awake with a jerk went on all night. Humph!

TTFN

Inchie Today: Sunday 1st January 2023

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07:45hrs: My waking up so late… well, I say that, but I’d been waking up all night again, but fatigue got me back to sleep this time. Thank you, Mr Fatigue!
The state of the Carers table caught my Katie cataracted, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades-Sandra eyes.
After three visits from Carer TY.
A broken catheter, open packs of day and night ones. Loose stablest on the floor under the table. But, I soon lost interest in that… the night catheter was in need of emptying and packing safely in a recycle bag
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So I did!
Fantastic! The when I bent or stretched were far, far less vicious than yesterday. I got the night bag off without too much bother, got it emptied into the bucket, and took it to the wet room for emptying and disinfecting.
As I was doing this, I felt wet dropping onto my ankle. I’d not turned the close lever far enough… So I did. Too late, of course. Now I had to wash the fo
ot and floor along with the bucket. More time lost! But at least I could do it this morning, with the pains from the infection and the , too, so much easier!
Took the bucket back to the font room for use later on, and got the night bag in the normal bag, then the yellow high-risk bag, and finally, a black bag.

Well, feeling so well now, achieving so much, I decided to use the speed-mop to clean the kitchenette floor.
That was a little more trying, but I managed it. The bending down to pick up pieces of fluff got the back pains going, and I was beginning to regret tackling the fang job… But they soon abated back to just little aching; that’ll do for me.
Got the kettle on, but I did not make a brew. Why? I’ll tell you… A call to the that was overdue! In fact, I had to get a trot (of sorts) on to get to the Throne in time. I did, though, but it was . Ah, back to the pre-infection says mode again. was in complete control. I hope he’s not going to stay in control, or else I may run out of toilet paper if he unloads like that again!
Even more, time was lost in cleaning up the grungy, sticky mass of mess that had evacuated. The water closet had to be flushed a few times; with the help of some water from the sink.

came in while I was making a brew. His approximate 08:30 to 08:39hrs visit, instead of the 50-minute one I was charged for, gave him no time to check the taps and cooker. But he did manage to give me one Lansoprazole instead of two. Asked me how I was, then as I was telling him, he went on his mobile, pretty sure he didn’t hear a word I said. Not on it long, just seconds.
“Have to go now, I’m very busy…” and he did, shouting cheerio see you later… That put fear and dread in me: is he coming again today? He might kill me next time. Then I realised he had not brought a spare night bag as he said he would yesterday… but then again, he was on his phone when I asked home to replace the one he broke. Also, he missed taking the two tiny waste bags that were in the usual place near the door.
When I got back in the room, I spotted loose tablets under the carer’s table. Got the mini Hoover out, but it wasn’t picking up, so I pressed the filter button, and it fell apart. Bit of good fortune, it fell in the waste bucket for me and literally emptied itself. Hehehe!
Now I was in a pickle. Trying to put the pieces of the vacuum back together correctly. Another good hour or more lost there. Tried to use it, but it wouldn’t pick up all the metal foil bits or three tablets that were down there… after all my effort getting the thing back together as well!

Slowly it dawned on me… (Things so that sometimes to me...) it needed recharging, mayhap? So I put it on charge. A simple, often done before, little task. But no… this is me we are discussing. I knocked a pile of paperwork over as I tried to see the blue light on the Hoover to see if it was charging.
I methodically picked them up, and I restacked them on the ottoman. All ready for me to check through them to see what was what in the stack. I decided that the Ottoman was not the safest place to leave them, gathered them up to take them to the book shelving… Need I say anything?
Unbelievable! I was just reaching up to place the documents on the shelf… I felt the well-known mini-shaking in the right leg, followed by an .
The paperwork is still laying dishevelled and crinkled, in the corner of the room near the bookshelf!

arrived, and I gave her a kiss (On the arm, always the gentleman, Hehe).
She checked the wee-pouch, and it had really filled up. So I emptied it into the overnight, now 24hr gey bucket.
Medications sorted.  mentioned the problems with the wrong medications being tendered, taps not being checked, the wrong bag being nearly fitted etc. I do not want to fall out with anyone. But, it was a nightmare the three last calls yesterday and this morning. Took the waste bags not taken by Ty.

I spent many hours (8) doing the blogs.
But mostly getting into a mess with mistakes and hitting the wrong buttons. getting out of situations I don’t know how I got into, turning off and restarting…
Taking a breath here...
Misspelling, using the wrong words, getting into the right state with using Word, getting messages up that I couldn’t understand, giving up, trying again…
Taking a breath here...
CorelDraw keeps freezing for no apparent reason! And coming close to crying!

Arrived. I told her of the things I’d gone through with a certain Carer (Not). Medications sorted out. Carolynne cleared the Carers desk up. Checked on both taps and oven.

Some more for farcicalness on the computer.
Trying to like and comment on the blog from my cyber-mate, Billum, and I got the message above come on the screen. I clicked the appropriate button and found myself back where I started? After the third time, I gave up and then got something to eat.

Not the meal of the year, I admit.
The oven-finished bread and th tomatoes were nice.
The Vegan mushroom steaks were revolting, and for the first time ever, even the potato Rostis were tasteless; well, they were to me. Taste: 3/10.

: Other than it was painful and took me over an hour to get the session done, there were no serious incidents. Washing the pots up and changing the bag was a nightmare with one usable hand.

Arrived as the original Die Hard film was showing on the telly.
At this stage, or of this bit,  seems to be a little foggy. Sorry!

Slept through until rang out from the door chime.

Inchie Today: Sunday 18th December 2022

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I REGRET I’M NOT VERY WELL TODAY. THE ANNE GYNA TABLETS, ALONG WITH THE MONTHS PRESCRIPTIONS, HAVE NOT BEEN RECEIVED OR FETCHED (As you can read in the Ode above, my love).

HAD CARER RICHARD NOT GONE OFF SICK, I’M CERTAIN THAT HE WOULD HAVE SPOTTED THE PROBLEM AND SORTED THIS OUT.
I’m not up to coping with computing. The constant noise from the imbecile dwelling above me and the Cataract, Glaucoma eyes worsening
. The big thing is the Angina pain from the lack of tablets; this is also constant. The months’ prescriptions were, I was informed by a Carer, coming Friday – then Saturday; it’s now Sunday, no chance of getting any today. Today, they are coming tomorrow, on Monday. Tuesday, I’ve got an appointment with two different nurses, one DVT and another, can’t remember what department she is from… possibly the Mental Health hospital, but I’m guessing here.

PLEASE FORGIVE THE LACK OF CONTENT. TUESDAY WILL BE THE SAME, WITH THE APPOINTMENTS I’VE GOT TO GO TO.
I can zoom in on CorelDraw and Word, so will try to put the Ode, HC Log and Nottingham News Snippets in. For any photos, I’ll just not have the time to doctor or comment much on any. Cheers.

Early morning shots.
Health Check Log
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Egyptian Cotton shirt.
Alright then, made in China cotton.
Hehehe!.
No concentration.
Carer Ty told me I’d been given the wrong tablets this morning; I was given the evening doses! No wonder I feel so bad. What with no Omeprazole, now I’ve taken too much Warfarin, and the level is already too high!

The only thing that’s keeping me going at this moment, is that France are losing to Argentina – not that I like it, anyway. France made a comeback in the second half and ended at 3-3 in extra time.  Then on to penalties to decide. Argentina won 4-2. I should have felt sorry for France’s Mbappé, with three goals in a world cup final and ended up on the losing side. But I didn’t.

I’ll get something to eat; I’ve got a potato in the crockpot. I’ll see what’s left in the fridge and freezer to have with it, not that I’m hungry with the Angina perpetually performing its pain-giving. If it’s cooked (the potato, not the pain). I might try to bake the slices in the oven. Oh, Ann Gyna ain’t half giving me some grief! Things are not good!

A well-seasoned spud in the pan. I would have had this if I didn’t forget to turn the slow cooker on.
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Last bag of cheese curls instead. Humph!

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Bit of a mist coming on.

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The odd-looking bag of BBQ flavouring filled three of the food containers.
I put a lot of the seasoning into the beans.
But couldn’t really taste anything BBQish?.
SHAME! Taste: 7/10.
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The Late safety call carer did no arrive.
Stayed awake as well so as not miss them!
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TTFN