Glaucoma Gladys

Inchy Inadmissibly: Sunday 7th April

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Up and about at 05:50hrs:

Once again, the wee-wee in the was not good a good colour.

I can’t say why I took two of the photos, but apparently I did so.

COMMENCED

First, a heavy-duty visit to the Throne was called for, so I sat on the Throne. It soon became apparent that was in full charge of this morning’s evacuation operation. I waited for what was obviously going to be a ginormous release to begin.
I counted the cracks in the ceiling: 22. Is it funny how the total is different every time I count them?
I could feel the solid torpedo as it crept agonisingly slowly and ever more painfully towards daylight. I got the crossword book and pencil from the floor cabinet and tried the puzzle. Blimey, I was doing well with it. 
Then the concrete torpedo started to come properly, still very slowly, making me winch at first. 
But at least it got out, more than yesterday’s two failed attempts. As the pain subsided, I was so glad it was not messy and needed a marathon cleaning job. I had to flush the thingy a few times, but it went down eventually, and I set about shaving.
There were a few more nicks and cuts this time, but nothing bothersome. I realised I’d forgotten to call the dentist to get a toothpaste prescription, so I used an old-looking tube of paste that had not been thrown out. I don’t think that was a good idea. Eurgh! Leaving the wet room, it dawned on me how well I did with the crosswording and how clear-headed I felt compared to usual.
As I went to get the kettle on for my brew of tasty  Glengettie tea, I took this snap of the morning clouds in view from the kitchen.
I felt appreciative of how with it, I felt. I decided to add at the end of yesterday’s blog my decision to cut back on the time it is taking me now. I can’t see, and the shakes are getting worse, which has always been expected. I had no problem finding the words needed and made far fewer mistakes than usual while doing it. In fact, a was engaged. Of course, I knew it would not last long, so I hastily got the computer on to write about my decision. Of course, now I have to prevent myself from looking a twit by actually cutting back on the thing I love doing! The thing that is keeping me going. This may not work, you know. I did tremendously well with my concentration. For the first time in ages, I felt I was achieving something on my own; that was my idea… of course, we’ll have to see how it goes.
I’d got near the end and was about to read through it, and the Carer came in. I think I had him call last weekend. His name was Aliga. Nice chap. He remembered to remind me to take the Vit B12, the lad remembered from last week! I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on, though. Due to our waffling throwing me out of kilt. I realised after he was gone that this essential interruption had killed my bit of unexpected clarity of mind and semi-mental alertness.
or . I imagine that after the lad had gone, I must have had a mind-blank or seizure because I had no idea what I was doing until chimed out four hours later. As far as I can tell, nothing had been done on the blog at all in those four hours? 
It was arriving. I was back in the land of confusion. Those few early hours were so pleasant, clear, and translucently appreciated. Will I ever get another one like it? I pray so.
Kimberley was like fresh air when she arrived. She noticed that I was not wearing the diabetic socks; bless her, and she got them fitted first thing for me. ♥  
. Medications were given, and we had a little natter. 
As she departed, I sat for a moment to try and identify the differences in my mind compared to earlier on. The worries, fretting, and depression in my state had all returned; they had never left in years, yet they did this morning. I’d like to solve the problem of finding out why I was so… well it must be happy and contented for those first few hours today. All a part of the “Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?”, I suppose.

As I sat there, I felt the need to return to the Porcelain Throne. Thinking there would be no rush, I didn’t exactly respond immediately. That was a mistake, and I should have been aware of it with my changing evacuation state. I did not make it to the WC tub in time!
I’d already been lifted by the early morning clarity of mind moments. Then lowered with disappointment when the worrying and fretting returned. Now, the embarrassment and shame joined in. Not to mention the washing and cleaning up needed afterwards. A 100% turn-around in my evacuations within an hour or so between the two visits. Life can be such a bugger, can’t it, when one gets older.
This cloud shot on the right is possibly my best-of-the-month pareidoliaising photo. I took it through the kitchen window and had to stretch a bit to get it. Hence the external wall was caught in the shot on the left, which gave more of an impression of an angry cloud face in sky. Furrowed highbrows, eyes, and a magical nose. I thought it was great. Carer Aliyas has been, and he took a photo of the day bag on my leg for me.

Time to get some nosh. Vegetable soup will do me.

I spotted the short, sharp shower spots shimmering steadily down the window pane. I took a Kodak Tim snap of the raindrops falling down the windows. Then the rain stopped!
Another selection of late shots, that are without doubt an absolute  Pareidolians Delight.

I see several partially distorted faces, including one that is ‘Scream-like’. I also see a spaceship, a ghost, caves and caverns, and the moon’s surface area. Great! Oh, and I’ve just noticed a Scottie dog’s face, too! Middle photo.

I put the potato chunks in the oven. They baked up well, nice and crispy, just as I like them. This added a crunch to the soup.
The soup. with its added can of garden peas.

Then, the bowl again, this time with the chunky baked potatoes added to the mixture. The gravy was made, and a splash of Worcester Sauce was also in there.

Well, I soon got that one scoffed away—too quickly, maybe, as then he started his imitation of imminent regurgitation & pains. 
  I went to get the washing up done and found, to my amazement, that I’d left the  It’s completely cold water now! That’s three times this week I’ve left the hot tap running. As Tim Price advised, I’m going to ask the Council if I can be allowed to buy auto-turn off taps and have them fitted. The bank manager might not like it.
arrived, medicated me and took off my socks. I turned off the TV, and sorted getting into the bed. Not easy as things were laid out, so I moved some things a little to make more room for the Carers to get about. And more space for me to haul my legs up on the bed. Messy, but it had to be done. Moved the over be table in close, with a bottle of water, the torch and the mobile on it. Next, I toyed with the remote control for the bed movements. Not the easiest of things to read in the torchlight. But I had to turn the lights of and use the torch to get into it. I managed to get the top end lower, but now I have the end bit raised up wonder my knees. I’ll see how that goes.

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TTFNski

Insecure Inchy: Sat 6 Apr 24, I made a decision!

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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Dark again.

Refilled the carer’s & nurses’ nibble boxes.

My knees are bad this morning.

Motionless.

Carer Christopher called. The little scallywag.

First view with Kodak Tim.
The clouds are still different today.

Whoops!

Off to the wet room to empty the catheter pouch out, and tried again on the Throne...
Oh, dear!

Blogging was a slow job; I’m going to have to give up.
Carer Joanne turned up earlier than usual. Always nice to see her. A little laugh available is good!

The Mystery Chest Pains are back now. Suppose it might be something to do with the reluctance of the bowels to produce anything? 

The clouds are even more beautiful now.

I’m blogging away, but now I’m bothered with the card reader reading the cards. I’m fed up! It takes about four tries to read the cards every time I use it. Not good! Gloom and doom!
Later I took another shot of the kitchen sky view.

Going to get something to eat now.
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Still too dark.

The shrunken in the wash new dressing gown was washed twice, and now the pockets are hanging off, and the belt loops are loose, ready to drop off.

Any idiot could work this one out…
But I couldn’t!

Sorry about this…
But, my physical and mental conditions are making things too time-consuming for me to cope with writing a full blog. I’ve been on the computer often for 18 hours on the trot. Stopping for nurses, deliveries, and/or Caregivers calling. Getting back to what and where I was is so confusing. Thus, taking me even more time to catch up and work rings out. I so loved doing them as well. 
I’ve decided to try to do the top part, including Cartoons, Odes, Snippets, etc. Medical appointments, and will add any photographs taken if I have time and the computer lets me. Maybe a description of any Whoopsiedangleplops, if any. (IF? Hahaha!)
I’ve had to make this decision, and making decisions is one of my later-in-life problems. The mind and memory blanks and now the non-epileptic seizures are getting a little more frequent, so much that often don’t mention them as anything worthy of going in the blog. They are diurnal.
My concentration seems to have retrograded this morning; hence, this is written while things are clearer in my head. (How long for? Who Knows.) 

They soon returned. The vacillating, wavering, indecision, hesitancy, uncertainty, hemming and hawing, shilly-shallying, dilly-dallying, concentration-distracting, fretting, worrying, fussing, panicking, and stressing are rife, too often for me now. 
disconcertions, embarrassments, self-loathings, misperceptions, tizzies, misunderstandings, apprehensiveness, topsy-turviness, vagueness, and an invaded brain full of a salmagundi of unwanted moods and modes, including, at times, the odd hallucination, fantasy, and stubborn delusion.
Common sense rarely makes an appearance. But it 
did this morning, making this decision!
I still await the appointment to see a Dementia psychologist. Glaucoma, cataracts and knee operations. But it is the brain that needs help more, I think. I can’t find anyone with the same symptoms to talk with. I believe FND is part of the cause.

After talking to the lady at the audio clinic and finding out that she had FND, I found I had every symptom she mentioned worrying about. The effects are so weird that she said she believes no one believes her – ditto! But it’s not easy to understand or diagnose, let alone treat it. I agree with her about her frustrations. My Doctor gives me the same feelings. It must be hard for anyone to take in.

Glad I got this on record while my head is clearer now. I can get back to being me when my mind abandons me again and wanders off. 

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TTFN, Keep Safe Each ♥

Inchy Unadapted, unadopted: Wednesday 3rd April 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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The highlights started early today… well, no, not early, ’cause I got up the latest I’d done in months. That was due to my elephantine-like wobbly-flabby stomached body getting used to the new bed and me rising with the usual complaints from & giving me some what-for pain-wise. The absence of bother was a delightful change. (Hence the smile in the selfie taken, Hehehe!) because I’d just had the best ever sleep in that bed for weeks. Six wonderful hours! And to boot, as far as I remember, only hit me twice in all that time. 
As I was faffing about trying to be kind to the cartilages as I stood up, rang out from the door chime. It was the J Sainsbury order arriving. I got the night bag off as quickly as I could and made my way, limping down the hallway to the door.
As the kind driver put the things into the carriers I’d had ready, I bent to pick up the first one, had a mini , that only lasted seconds, and took it into the kitchen. 
 I returned and just as gave way, a bigger, more virile joined in and I began falling to the floor, hitting my head on the wall as I did so. The pain from was terrible, but it would have been much worse if the driver, chappie, 
had not been nippy enough to lunge forward and press my body up against the wall. Literally caught and saved me from having a proper tumble, bless him. I want to send J.S. a message later, thanking him. The day was a slow one at times, with panicky moments thrown in amidst the confusion.

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Dark urine again.

My first effort at shooting the morning view.
I did a better job on the second one.

The waste bags were amalgamated

The early morning J. Sainsbury order arrives. As explained above in the intro. I set about sorting the food delivered. But it was not easy.
Got the Carer & Nurses nibble box filled.Chips, soda water and bleach.
Tomatoes, milk, Leicester cheese, lemon-flavoured yoghourts, and some Jamaican Patties.

Earlier on, the wee-wee flow into the bag was very little for some reason; it rapidly changed.

Carer Maryham arrived. She was full of the joys of spring and gave me one of her dances. Hehe! I enjoyed it so much that I forgot to ask her to put on my socks.

Hours of gruelling, gruelling because my concentration was minimal; thus, mistakes were being made. Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

DVT nurse and the love of my life, Hristina, arrived and delicately took the blood samples.

I made a mammoth mess of making up the templates for the WordPress blogs!
WHAT A PICKLE I GOT MYSELF INTO!
I even wrote down each day’s date and wording for the month before I started.
Certain that I would not make the same mistakes this month, I pressed on. With just three days left to do, I almost discovered I’d got the wrong dates on three earlier sone ones. Swear? Me? YES!
It cost me another hour sorting them out and putting them into chronological order amidst the cursing and teeth-grinding (which is painful with the state of my few teeth left!) and depression brewing.

Carer Kara arrived; thank heavens she was helping with the finances, but whipped through them, and she got the kitchen and wet room floor cleaned up for me as well. She also checked the catheter and got the socks onto my legs. ♥

The catheter pouch had filled up again.

The afternoon sky.

The front car park.

Filled really quick this time.

I made the meal of the day.
Smashing!

I made an Asda order for next week, and Carer Kimberley arrived. Took the diabetic socks off of my legs. A night catheter bag was attached.

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May good luck for you be blossoming,
You may meet someone alluring…
And together happiness will ring…
Your hearts begin to sing,
Work & finances are important things,
So is love & betrothing,
My opportunities were limiting…
Suzie & Grizelda were so very loving,
The other 1,124 were not so caring,
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TTFN, Keep Safe!

Imaginal Inchy: Sun 31 Mar 24 Ablutional Nightmare this morning

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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? –
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A confoundingly confusing day, with crises galore!
A spirit-crippling day.
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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? 

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. 

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!,
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TTFN

Irredivivous Inchy Saturday 30th March 2024

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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‘s mass of flaked-off skin covered my spectacles, chest, and dressing gown, and left a reasonable deposit on the floor and £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
kicked off the moment I moved my left leg. But her joint was utilised to help me bend down to clean up my exuviated skin. The pain and efforts resulted in many visits from , , and .

Carer Chris arrived; he did not put the socks on for me because I’d hoped to get the ablutioning done later today – I didn’t.
Well, several of them. The day shot by, and I hadn’t even started this blog until Saturday (today). I flaked out far earlier than I usually do. Gave up, ate, and spent hours trying to get to sleep.
were rampant. It’s as if they knew I’d drifted off. Sleep? Erm…what’s that then? Hehe!
I keep hoping the Doctor’s receptionist will call to arrange for me to see the medics. Then, if I remember, I can explain my problems to them.
This was likely the worst out-of-it day ever. Thank heavens, I took some pictures. I really cannot recall taking many of them.
I have to see the quack about this. Then again, as last time, a long time ago, when I told her of the situation, she seemed all calm and unconcerned. She mentioned that I’m getting older and have many problems, as do so many other elderly patients. It is to be expected. I almost apologised for mentioning my worries. Hahaha! She’s right, all the same.
Here’s the memory promoters via .

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You’ll notice that no night bag was attached.
This is due to my complicated, infected with brain; and, of course, dying. Maybe some effect from . Possibly in amalgamation with the failed operation, cleverly leaving me with double-vision, and some wonderfully uplifting new skills, like walking into door frames, tripping over unseen objects, and the latest, bending down and hitting left-open cupboard door corners when rushing to turn off hot water tap (faucet), that I so regularly leave to run cold. Hang on. That prompted me to check the taps now! No taps were running, and neither the hob nor the oven was left on… I closed the left-open fridge door! I am so glad I wrote this bit now. My food could have decayed! As I am. Hehehe! Where was I? Oh, yes, the urine nocturnal pouch I forgot to put on. Remembered to ask the last Carer to take off my socks last night. 

The Iceland order arrived. 
The only good thing about the order. They had Heinz pickled Ketchup on special offer.  
Food!
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A close-up of Harry Ramsden’s fish supper planned for tonight, well, tomorrow night’s feast.

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It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday’s. But coming around afterwards, it took me a long time to get into a condition where I could tackle checking the blog work. It didn’t help that I had made so many errors.

Fantastic, beautiful cloud shots.

The catheter pouch has filled much slower today. But the colour was much worse.
Maybe a 5 on the NHS chart.
I’ll ask a carer to check it from this photo for me later, which I did. Joanne said it was a class 6!

It’s getting dark now. After another hour or so on this blog, I felt weariness, so I gave up.

Back to the wet room.

Took this photo.
I had a pareidoliaising feast with this one.
I thought, can others see what I do in it.
In the morning, I copied it in CorelDraw and doctored it with a lot more ‘contrast’, and what I could see became more explicit in the resulting picture.
Can anyone see them? The teddy bear, ghost, face, or the animal? I love pareidoliaising.

Was the catheter pouch still a deep colour?

The late evening clouds seemed to be determined to come to the fore. You can imagine, methinks, what I saw at first with my left double-vision eye. Haha!

So weary now. I made a quick meal.
The bland, pale, undercooked Iceland chicken legs, substituted for the not available thighs, tasted like cardboard would, I imagine. The Heinz beans were also unremarkable. The instant potatoes were very nice, especially with the Heinz pickle-flavoured ketchup.

Took this last shot of the sky.
I was pleased with this one.

I managed to find five of them.

I’m yawning now. But once again, would Sweet Morpheous welcome me? NO! Heaven knows how long it took me to nod off. I had a couple of , which jumped me awake, but I soon nodded off again. I did well once I got off, about 6 hours or so. Gleaned by waking up a lot later than usual, at 05:00hrs.

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Fare Thee Well!

Inadvisability Inchy: Fri 29 Mar 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I made a deliberate mistake in this Ode; Ahem!
I wrote Further, instead of another word. Would
anyone like to guess what it should have been?
Deliberate mistake… I am a fibber!
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Moments for sheer frustration, littered with strange, weird, eerie, unaccountable moments of ‘Soditisms’.
During these spasms, I was so high that nothing seemed to bother me in the least. But, they were short and rare and were usually followed by a Depression full of self-loathing, then a realisation that I am to blame for my past guilt. Then, the circle would start again.
I think I’ve mentioned these to the Doctor, but I’m not sure. Maybe not; I’ve not seen her for many months.
On the bright side, the throughout the day, added up to only four!
I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again and burnt the food in the oven. The eyes are terrible nowadays. Any distance and things seem to have another image above themselves. Like a shadow, but clear. I’m looking now through the balcony window, and all the houses look like they have two roofs.
The catheter is a lot less painful than yesterday, mind you. My coughing has also calmed down compared to last night. I’ve walked into nothing. Fair do’s, I’ve dropped the cutlery, saucepan, washing up bottle, picker-upperer, tablets and my pen (four times).
So, all in all, a typical day.
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Night pouch.

Medicationings.

My ankles look fine.

The first emptying of the day bag.

Opening the balcony windows.

Over the next five hours, the views remained similar.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Gorgeous!
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!

I was busying away and getting a little done.
Caregiver calls only confused me. After they left, I found it nearly impossible at times to get back to what I was working on, often veering off to the wrong project and getting deeper into a mind-muddle. Memory-Blanks were rampant. For some reason, I did not keep up with the memory notes on the pad. Now, so long later (Saturday A.M. started on this section), the photos help prompt me a little. Not many of them, either. Any slight disturbance, change whatever, and I was lost again. Sorry about this

Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).

Gave up computing. I was in a long-lasting period of haziness. But can recall Carer Christopher arriving.
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
While talking, I remembered I’d left the sausages cooking in the oven… yet again!
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen.
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. Immediately started an attack of lambasting, self-hating, repeating so many things, wrong choices I’d made over the tears. Even an occasion that took place when I was just an ankle-biter, which I was not proud about doing… it was horrible being forced to listen to myself, listing and bringing back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
As I tossed and twisted, I felt the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie. I 
realised then that I had not attached the Nocturnal Pouch yet. So, I did!

By the time I’d fumbled about to get the bags linked, my & 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. . I may regret saying this later, Haha!

TTFNski each!

Interfationing Inchy: Wed 27th Mar 24

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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4:00hrs: I woke feeling oddly a little sprightly (for me). As I tried to rise from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, uncomfortable, incommodious, unwelcoming and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. As I did so, gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think?  This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had , in front, along with bleeding at the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.

Then a   dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, grouchy, depressed, frustrated, bleeding, in pain, downhearted, depressed, melancholy, forlorn, glum, demoralised, fed up, down in the dumps, in the doldrums, unnerved, chagrined, miffed, sour, sulky, sullen, surly, saddened, subdued, almost sepulchral Inchy.
But within minutes, a stroke of good luck eased my misery by taking my mind off of it. As I was leaving the wet room, I clouted my head, this time on the door frame! 99% of the time, it will be the right shoulder. Blame can be attached to: ,  ,  ,   or any of the ailments really. On this occasion, the culprits were, I think, and or . The eyes are worse than ever now, and I’m sure I’ll have kicked the bucket before my turn comes for the operation. But, sorting youngsters out early is more vital. They have the prospect of living many years with their sight adjusted. We long in the tooth old things, must accept this.

This morning, the sky was a glorious blue hue again. My confusion was worse than usual for the next hour or two. I got out of the wet room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
There was a smidgen more bleeding from Little Inchy, but it’s not worth mentioning compared to the tsunami that was released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my was getting better bit by bit.

The areas where the are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. is to blame.
Getting lighter now, I took another Kodak Tim picture from the kitchen window again. The streetlights were off now.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.

Carer Shaquille arrived. I made an order the J Sainsbury’s for next week. Blogging.
Amending, blogging, correcting, blogging-getting more things wrong, blogging… well, you get the message. Tsk!
Carer Kara arrived. She sorted out the banking problem and said she would try to get in touch with Norton about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. Care Victor, did the last two calls.
I took these photos later. 
Then went into what I believe was a non-apolectic seizure. Not a mind-block. Because it was like blinking, and an hour had gone, but nothing was done whatsoever when I came around back to this miserable existence.
After the , I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A procedure Hehe! Nothing gets done as if I’d fallen asleep, but I know it wasn’t that. I think.  might play a part in this ailment.
At times, I come back to the reality of stinging pains in the lower regions from the catheter bag being too full, and I have to get it emptied swiftly, ASAP.
The sunset was about over by the time I regained a modicum of brain control, rejoined the menagerie of life on offer, and got back to the reality and struggle of living.

I DIDN’T

I gave up on the blogging.

Made myself a meal.
It tasted delicious, too! I could feel my burnt finger on the oven rack and the pain of dropping the hot oven tray onto my foot. Landing on my toe nail.
But the meal was worth the hassle. 

Wrote by Inchie c1953

Search for the meaning of truth,
Look until you’re long in the tooth,
You may find it, Gawd’s strewth,
Facts will have to be dealth…
With those who demand wealth,
Humans want for themselves,
Oligarchs will believe in elves!

See you later, take care of yourselves!

Inchy with Little Inchie Bleeding: Tue 26 Mar 24

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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Today, felt like it had lasted for three days or more!
Yet I was so swamped, which usually makes the time pass quicker? The worrying early morning , the Asda delivery farce, Little Inchy, and the catheter tube painfully in disagreement all day long, and so many episodes meant this was not anywhere near a good day for Inchy! I’m sure I had one while Carer Kara was with me today. Because I was not getting what she was saying about the text, I was left more befuddled than before I asked for help.
My blogging exploits are taking so much longer, with a first-time success rate of infinitesimally low.
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Very early morning view.

Porcelain Throne evacuation failure. Not only no release but no answers to the crossword. Tsk!

I gave up, but within a minute of leaving the wet room, I hobbled hastily back, just in time. The delayed motion shot out as my bum hit the seat!

I got on with the blog catch-up. At about 06:00hrs, I thought I’d make myself a mug of tea.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP
As I pottered about from the sink to the kettle back to the counter, I got the kettle on, went to the cupboard for the tea bag, took that and the mug to the kettle counter, and went to the fridge for the milk… I really thought my bad eyesight was fooling me at first when I dropped the spoon and looked down for it; there were trials of dripped blood all over the kitchen, some trodden on and smeared by my slippers. A closer inspection of the Little area revealed that blood was pouring out from near the catheter tube inserted, as it has been for over a year now in . I used many kitchen towel sheets over the next hour; yes, it took that long. It was steadily bleeding, started heavily, slowly getting less, until it seemed to stop of its own accord. All I did was go into a semi-panic and wipe it off with paper towels. I took a photo of the last few towels used. The first few were more red than white, so you can see how much it lessened to a trickle, running down the inside of my leg, onto the now, for some reason, between my leg and the swollen right testicle. No, the left one.
I had considered pressing the alarm wristlet. But when I saw the blood getting less and less, I didn’t bother. I’ll ask the Carer to ring the community nurse’s place for me when she or he arrives.
I cleaned up the kitchen and my body parts as best I could. Next, I was going to get a fresh pair of PPs Protection Pants) on. But what had happened in the kitchen that may have caused the problem dawned on me. I was taking the emptied catheter pouch with me as I went in and dropped it; I bent down to retrieve it rather sharpishly. That may have cracked the dried blood and allowed a follow-through? Hehe!

The Asda Delivery Arrived
The delivery driver saw my predicament and took the food to the kitchen. Some were put on the floor near the sink…
Some on the kettle shelf…
The PPs on the cooker.
Bags on the floor.
Daffodils for the Carers on the draining board.
These are from a carrier I placed for photographing. I got things sorted and put away, but I could only see one of the two ordered packs of PPs and no kitchen towel. I kept looking around, searching. The email said they had been sent. An hour and four look-arounds later, I found them. They were in the hallway near the door, on the floor behind Wally. I took one of these out, asking the Carer to help me get into them later. I wanted to avoid bending.

I took this snap of the later morning view. Carer Marie arrived, medicated me, and helped me with the PPs and diabetic socks. Bless her!

Hours were spent on this blog preparation, but it was slow going again. Grammarly, Accifauxpa-ridden.

Cara Kara arrived
She called the District Nurses for me, and they will call today or tomorrow. She checked the catheter bags for me. Medications were given. She looked at the texts and emails. No action is needed. She will ring someone about something later in the week, but I can’t recall who or what it was about now. 

Blogging.

The Landline Rang
District nurse. I told her the bleeding had almost stopped and the pain, although still hurting, was far less than yesterday. They will not be calling on me now. If pain or bleeding gets worse, I’ve to phone them.

Started to make an early meal
The usual tiredness and weariness fell on me extra early this Tuesday.

One of my betterer, more tasty efforts this one was.
Lipsmackingly tasty!.
A drop of Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle decorated the top of the folder. I do like this sauce!

Getting down in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus, initially failed. I tried the trick of putting the TV on to watch my favourite TV programme, ‘Heartbeat’. And it worked, and I went into bliss… Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, reluctantly, he said, with a big grin on his face. Hehe! 
Medication issues, nibbles and drinkies given, socks taken off. And off trotted Chris. Nice lad!

I had to get up to empty the .
I took this view of the early evening sky as I did.
Amazing cloud formation!

I made the last call of the day. I was so out of it with the blessed, deep, comforting sleep. I can see now why the lad removed the diabetic socks earlier: to let me sleep on without getting up. Good on him! He sprayed the eye spray on me, making sure I had to close my eyes first. Drinkie, nibble, and off.

I was soon back in the land of nod. I’m not sure I entirely left it anyway. Hehe! My next conscious moment, deep in slumber and dreaming of physically entwining with long-gone Lady Grizelda, Was when the began bursting out.
There was no chance of any more sleep now, but I was well-pleased when I realised the time. I’d just had nine hours of sleep! Brilliant!

TTFNski, each!

Limitability Inchy: Monday 25th March 2024

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23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.

I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.

I’d better start the Diary.

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!

Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!

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.

Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.

Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.

Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.

Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.

I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!

However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… …
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.
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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.
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The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep.
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.

Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).

Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.

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!

Oh, dearie me, Little Inchie’s hurting again.

TTFN.

Illaudable Inchy: Sunday 24th March 2024

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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!
The blogging was another nightmare. mistakes, errors, corrections and frustrations.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet. Poor Jane is not an early riser—the opposite, actually. She was coughing away; she’s got the Lurgie, too. Naturally, she did not know. I expect a late call this morning. But it doesn’t matter at all to me. We had a natter, and I listened to her problems for a change. She asked why they did not call me. But, to be fair, they may have when I was in the wet room. Also, I’m not sure if my new telephone number has been passed on to them or not. I gave it to the flats Meridian set-up. He came later anyway. No problems.

The pain from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was horrendous all day long. It didn’t calm down until well late in the night. The Carer saw my state and rang for advice. Said they would send someone to check on it on Monday. We’ll see.
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Dark, too dark again.

Tried to take a photograph or two of the moon. The first one was fairish, the second warped.

Off to the wet room for a shower, shave and shush.

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. I struggled to stop stopped and creamed. , 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.
I turned to leave with the waste bin in hand and traditionally gave the door frame a charge with my right shoulder, setting off a few minutes’ worth of pain from .

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!

The carer was late, not that it mattered. Half an hour later, the landline rang out, making me jump.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.

I concentrated on the hard slog of blogging for hours and hours; just not very successfully. Little Inchie was so painful at times, which did not help me concentrate on blogging. Humph!

Carer Kimberley arrived. She could not give me any painkillers because it had not been 4 hours between calls. So I took some Paracetamols. The pain from poor Little has never been worse. I took off the PPs I put on after washing, hoping it would not irritate things as much. But no, it’s just as bad now. With not having the pants on, I caught myself catching the catheter tube more often; AARGH!

What an amazing hue!

Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little , the wee was flowing freely.

I added a packet of PP’s to the Asda order for Tuesday. I tried some different kinds this time

Carer Israel arrived while I was struggling to walk into the kitchen and showed his concern for me. That was nice. He rang someone and spoke to them. 111 probably. He told me they said it was likely to be an infection and a nurse would be calling to check it out tomorrow. Bless his cotton socks. He also had a quick sweep-up in the kitchen for me when he saw how painful it was for me to bend, stretch, bend, walk and keep a hold on things. I much appreciated his efforts. 

Back on the blog. Then noticed how bright it looked outside, and I took this truly wonderful shot with … I love this one.  
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Bootiful!

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Zoomed-in shot.
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Wider shot.

Burnt to perfection! Just how I love them to be.

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What a magnificent view,
From my kitchen window, too,
I’m pleased with these two,
I went into Smug-Mode, anywho,
Not a smudge, blotch or curlicue,
Decent sky shots were overdue,
Best view, hitherto!

All the Best to You!