
I rose singing out loud at 0325hrs. Took off the nocturnal Catheter pouch, got up and ran with it to the wet room, emptied it and returned for my morning exercises. Stripped off the nightwear and naked, I went onto the balcony, where I keep my weights. Grabbed a 240lb barbell and did a hundred waist-lifts. Got on the sit-up machine for 600 tugs, touched my toes 200 times, dived down for 400 press-ups. Then 250 squats, 300 planks & lunges. Opened the windows and yodelled out my greetings to the world, followed by a Tarzan Talk with the crows. A robust “Aah-eeh-ah-eeh-aaaaaah!” Jogging in place, jumping jacks, high knees, splits, then launched into ten minutes of shadow-boxing, with some neat left undercuts thrown in. Knee raises, one-leg stands, and leg extensions.
15-Min Beginner Cardio Circuits, including chair squats and 15 downward squats. Abdominal crunches, bent-over-rows, then nipped out and down in the lift and ran back up the fire-escape stairs, eleven double floors.
Back in the flat, drank a gallon of carrot juice and made a banana-and-garlic puree.
Well, alright, I only did 300 press-ups.
I’ll start again…
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I jumped awake at 0325hrs, this was thanks to
But as
At around 0500hrs, I moved to a different position and banged the ingrowing toenail on the bedpost.
Swore and cursed and
Slowly, I came to appreciate that the Catheter Flow back was pain-free, and I almost cheered up.
Freed the night bag, and as I did so, an involuntary
My timing in getting sat on the porcelain this morning was perfect.
Just before I got seated, the evacuation started of its own accord, and kept coming for a good while.
I think I coughed as the aroma filled the wet room. And it did, too. However, I’m a little confused about what happened, for I had a seated seizure mid-flow. When I came out-of-it, the usual acidicness upflowed into the throat and mouth, yet the disorientation seemed so mild compared to normal.
As I rose and started to wipe and wash the rear end, I realised I could no longer smell the pong that had permeated everywhere; it seemed to me to have been there a couple of minutes earlier.
Cleaning up, I knocked the battery clock off of the shelf. It showed 0635hrs? Impossible, I must have caught something when I used the picker-upperer to retrieve the AAA battery clock. Finished cleaning, grabbed 4-legged Wally, the walking stick, and casually made my way to the kitchen to get the kettle and make a brew of Glengettie tea. Spotting the clock on the window ledge, telling me it was 0650hrs. Where did nearly 2 hours in the wetroom disappear to? I had to check I was not going bonkers… well, no more than is usual, and got the mobile phone to check the right time. It was indeed 0655hrs. I think I’d had a second seizure, because there was no acidic taste in my chest, mouth or throat. I returned to the kitchenette and
The mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again!
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I got the computer going on the second try and started updating the blog… then the Carer arrived. Hard Work. He cleaned the testicle area, but not as the nurse told him to. Disconcerting.
By the time midday arrived, I’d been to the toilet for a rear-end job four times. Each one was of the same or a similar type. Phooey, yellow and soft, but not liquid.
The extra-Carer call for 1330 > 1430hrs (cleaning) did not happen. No one has contacted me. Which is disappointing to say the least. When I did mention this to Carer Rachid, he offered no advice, help, or even a response, as far as I can tell. No apology (not that it is his fault), no support. No help with letters or emails.
Maybe they want to lose me from their books? They have taken E and M off of my daily rota, which is heartbreaking. The two best, I lose. Two hard-to-work-with replacements. There may be something in the air with this action. That I will not like, just a message from EQ. Could be an ulterior motive, surreptitiousness, clandestine, perhaps.
Or it would just be my usual bad luck.
The INR blood girl called in and out in six minutes.
Oh, yes, she’s quick on her feet. Hehehe!
THE FEW PHOTOS:
The filthy gap between the now non-working cooker and the corner counter. I tried to clean it a bit.
Worra Day!
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HORRIBLE DAY
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Not feeling up to much, Sorry.