– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I regret this is going to have to be a quickie.
Due partly to the very short but frequent visits from . He certainly left his trademark of uncaring emotions with me. ‘Sod-Em-All’ style. For I decided to have another go at replacing some more choice words for use in the Ode. I spent a good four hours on them, not making much progress, cause, as per usual, I kept doing something else and left the tap running again. (Unbelievable!) However, at the time, I was just not bothered in the slightest! No scribble on the memory notepad at all, well, the date and time I got up, that was all on it this morning (Sunday). Also, this Sunday will be known forthwith as the Words-Escaping-the-Brain Sunday! Now, I know the words, but you would not believe the word I wanted to say or write that were off on the ether. Some, I grasped, reclaimed within seconds. Others I had to look up – Like the names of the tablets that the Carer asked me if I needed. Codeine came to me straight away, then I struggled to get Paracetamol, Peptac, Anusol, and Ramipril. I had the feeling that he thought I was joking with him. It felt so weird. AS the day went on, although the wonderful paid extremely short visits, they were frequent. (Same as this but worse on Sunday morning!) I’m a smidgen worried about this.
So just a few photos again to help me remember anything. Oh dearie me. Grammarly is working overtime this morning… no, afternoon, already!
This one U can recall, first of the day, from the kitchen window. First cloud-free morning for ages. I hae a feeling that I got up and took this one earlier.
The Deja Vu, I found myself back at the window taking this shot, what must have been hours later.
The replacement day catheters arrived, with a different calve contraption for me to try. The Carer re[placed the old one, we’ll see how we go.Think I took this one next.
Then later, this is one of the almost-barren cars parked at the end of the road car park.
I think I started on the word lists about eleven.
Did the second HC checks in the afternoon. This Sunday, my memory and concentration are in a bad state; why didn’t I make my usual notes?
Ah, mayhap I’d overdosed on ?
The tree copse was gloomy to see, and winter approaches; the trees change colour, lose their leaves, and look so sad, as if they were depressed. A little like the voters who elected Starmer into office as Prime Minister! Hehehe!
The last few minutes of attention. The flat hats and Bombay Potatoes failed to arrive yesterday, and arrived at teatime. I showed one off, and it looked like I was in a good frame of mind.
Nosh.
At the time of writing this, I checked the catheter bag to see if it needed emptying… both feet squelched in the urine as I moved. Socks, legs, carpet and slippers soaked again. Got the slippers, shirt, dressing gown and socks off and washed the socks. Got the bowl with Dettol in it to clean my feet and legs, dried off with paper towels. Painful. Taking the – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Then, as I gingerly took the bowl back to the kitchen, I slipped on some water, clouted my left arm and right leg. The arm was well scuffed, on the leg, it tore open the leathery skin, and now I’ve got a tenderly painful arm, and , leaking fluid down the right leg – but not into the slipper; As both pairs are in the laundry bag. It’s the second time this week I’ve had a catheter leak! Depressed? Me? YES! I may have to call for an ambulance if the leg does not stop leaking, so if no blog, you’ll know why. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – >>>>><<<<<
Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
>>>>><<<<<
A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
>>>>><<<<<
I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
>>>>><<<<<
Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
>>>>><<<<<
I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
>>>>><<<<< – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025 I had even fewer jumping awakes last night. Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.
After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today. Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did. A good job that he remembered!
The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.
I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.
I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker. I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!
A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe! An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford. I went inside the waiting room and waited. But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!
I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me. I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep! At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t. But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.
There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.
He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of. Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.
Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something WrongHere!
I pressed on with the day’s blog.
Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!
Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.
I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.
Back in the morning, I hope.
Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast… Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…
I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again! Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room. The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!
I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it. I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My ponderings are, at times, encyclopaedic, Though they rarely show any signs of being gnostic, Mostly, dizzy, ditzy, sceptic, and simplistic, You could say they’re Starmeristic? Though at birth, they can seem astronomic, In reality, they can be catastrophic… Regularly scatterbrained and nonspecific, They come and go like an epidemic, They all possess a degree of the unspecific, Mingled with thoughts, though microscopic, Seeming to others sort of verbally monolithic, With humour, fear, desires and the hyperbolic, Often resulting in being self-homiletic, Common sensical, yet psychedelic, Like life, ponders can be oneiric, But pondering is not all that terrific! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – VERY PLEASED WITH THIS WEEKS RETURNS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up the ghost of sleeping. I took off the nocturnal night pouch and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk! First, there is a chronically badly taken view from the kitchen window. Which is nothing like the view my eyes saw. One of my worst efforts! Followed by a wider shot, which produced an almost as bad a reproduction as the first disastrous effort. This lone camera will have to be studied. I can’t see the small print on the instructions nor determine the option buttons. I tried again an hour later and got this effort on the right, using the other camera. Better?
I’d been up late, so there was not a lot of catching up to do on yesterday’s blog. I titivated it and posted it to WP.
I felt terribly cold this morning, but my flu symptoms were no worse. My throat seemed easier than it had been yesterday.
Then, the morning summoning from the innards sent me scurrying off to the wet room for the daily Porcelain Throne evacuation. . Soft as things were that evacuated this morning, there was a worrying amount of pain & blood (not too much; it was Harold’s Haemmorhoids) that came with it.
I had a slow, steady washing and a painful medicationalisation session. Little Inchies Fungal lesion and, more rarely, Harold’s Haemmorhoids gave me the most hassle. The piles were bleeding far more than they usually do, but not too painful with it. It was stopping the flow that took the most time. After finishing and getting dressed, I returned to the computer. After about an hour or so, the sneezing started to kick off, but the throat was much more manageable. As usual, there were a few specs of blood from the nose. Blowing the nose, I realised how the tissue was getting cut up. I’d not had a shave! I shall go shaveless. And try not to shave at all. See how it goes, as Tim Price put it, ‘Going Caveman Style.’
Unknown Carer arrived at 09:45hrs. I worked on the daily ode. Carer Suen arrived at 11:15hrs. It was too short a break between calls for any painkillers to be issued.
Having done a bad job of this morning, Jenny loaned the camera. I tried the old Kodak Tim camera, hoping that by some miracle, the blotch on the photos would not show up this time.
Oh, dear, that didn’t work either. The blotch is more prominent than ever now. Shame. I put the lens cleaner on it, went over it with the soft cloth and spray, and tried again. Did my bestestest.
I’ll make some nosh then.
Very nice it was too! Chinese belly pork (very fatty, naughty… but nice!) & baked potatoes with No-butter butter and a blob of BBQ sauce.
Washed the pots and sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch two episodes of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’.
AT LONG LAST… I fell asleep, Oh, the sheer Bliss! Five minutes later, Carer Precious arrived. Could I get back to sleep after? No!
Carer Precious did the last call and took off the diabetic socks. Meds were issued, and he fitted the catheter night pouch.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
