No electricity bills – it’s been cut off! Now, can everyone stop labelling me a crook, pensioner-pincher?
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I learnt today that my DNA was adenoviral…
Dying neurotransmitters made it aetiological…
To my brain, this was not logical…
It sounded pretty comical,
Most of my problems are neurological,
But this ailment may be attenuable…
That was a shock, unbelievable!
Me? Get an ailment that’s treatable?
Possibly, maybe perhaps, even curable!
The hope is to make this abrogable,
I thought this test result may be apocryphal,
He said it could be operationable…
There’s a chance your heart may go asystole,
“That’ll be fine; it’ll save me buying a pistol!”
He frowned & said; Are you suicidal?
“No, it was a joke, I was being risible!
He laughed, saying, “Haha, some people!”
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Continued from Monday:
The first visit to the WC was a Constipation Conrad torpedo of mammoth proportions, which pleased me, given the upcoming medical visits later today. There is less chance of embarrassment from any leaks.
I got on the computer to finish Monday’s blog. Then, most surprisingly, I was summoned to the porcelain Throne again. I was even more amazed at Trotsky Terence in control again! Which made me feel a fool for mentioning how pleased I was with Constipation Conrad. Now, I think the opposite. Coping with the bloody catheter is bad enough, especially with having to wear trousers again, the first time in months. I regained the worry over any leaks from the catheter or it filling up while I was out; now I fear things may escape from the rear end!
I pressed on with starting this blog. And half an hour into the job – unbloody-believable!
This third visit was messy and ultra-gooey in the extreme! It’s a good job that I have plenty of toilet paper and air freshener to hand in the wet room. Now, I worry about the bus journeys to and from the medics. Can I avoid any 
getting on and off of the bus? Will there be any waiting for what is needed? That will give it more time to leak or burst on the bus or during surgery. And walking is not an option anymore. That would take me an hour each way and almost guarantee an on the trips to and from Sherwood. It turned out to be a lot longer.
Stopping here, wait for the caregiver, put on socks, take medications, and then do the ablutions. Then, sort out what is needed for the trip and leave before midday for the surgery: bus pass, collapsable walking stick, Medical card, appointment card, and log book. Empty the catheter bag, wear new PPs, and wear trousers. Oh, and hearing aids and put on long-distance spectacles.+ Keys.
It’s all a challenge that no one should have to go through. But, with no one to help, I must sort it out myself.
Life can be a @?*⇓⊗! No! Life is a @?*⇓⊗!.
Care Christopher arrived and put on my socks. He also took the laundry bag at my request. I haven’t received it yet, but it’s only been 25 hours so far. Oh, I get them back.
Care Sam came later. She could see the state I was in with my nerves. She kindly helped me get the things together for the journey-to-hell send-back. (Well, it was a struggle, as I hope you will read about later.) Sam kindly walked me to the bus stop, which was kind of her. When leaving the flat, she returned to get my hat, which I had forgotten to put on. But, waiting for the bus, I remembered the last time I went on one and fell getting onto the bus, and then off of it!
I chickened out and walked down Winchester Street Hill into Sherwood, carefully and slowly. The famously cracked pavements were now covered with leaves in sheltered areas, and it was difficult to manoeuvre the three-wheeled-walker when 
hitting leaf-covered potholes. No falls yet. I reached the bottom of Winchester Street and went up Mansfield 
Road to the supposedly arranged flu jab at the top chemist. On the way up the hill, I called in the Co-op and got some food. As I walked up towards the chemist, the atmosphere was bleak. Nine people on that short stretch of the incline sat in closed shop doorways with the traditional pot of coffee, begging and giving out depressing stares that could melt you if you looked back at them. Poor devils or con men?
I plodded up the hill to the chemists, taking my time so I wasn’t too early for the flu jab appointment.
Whoopsiedangleplop. The lady said I was not booked for a jab, and anyway, the lady who does them is not in on Tuesdays. I explained that my caregiver had rung to make the appointment, but she may have made it at a different chemist. I might not have explained which one very carefully. I think I was in a mini-seizure when she made the calls. She recommended I 
try the bottom chemist, a quarter of a mile down the hill and almost up the high point on the right. So I began the long trek down and up Mansfield Road to the second chemist to investigate. I got so far down and 
remembered there was a chemist to the north that the Carer might have booked me in with. Turned around, passing the Co-op and first chemist back up the hill and down to the Daybrook Chemist. I was feeling knackered by then! Got there. So, back up the Mansfield Road Hill to Sherwood, down through Sherwood to the chemist.
Nope, I wasn’t booked in with him either.
He rang other chemists without any luck. But Carrington Chemist could do me now and give me the COVID-19 jab.
It was another dangerous trip over the hill and down into Carrington. Before crossing any roads, the pavements and high steps on that route need working out.
Finally, I got there and was told they would not start the injections for 20 minutes. ‘Take a seat’; I was told in a way that dared not take one. So, I sat down, knowing the agony I’d be in when standing up again from Cartilages Chloe & Carole! With all the walking and hobbling, fighting to keep three-wheeled-walker-wally from tipping over, that I’d done.
I was first in the queue, though. I got into the treatment room. The lady said she could not give me the DVT procedure but did give me the COVID and Flu jabs. An assistant stopped me on my way out. She had some Prescriptions that I could take with me. Which, hopefully, will mean Carer Richard will not have to fetch them for me this week. I must remember to tell the Carers later on about this.
Then, the long slog back up the Mansfield Road hill and down into Sherwood began.
I crossed the road to return on that side, thinking the pavements might be easier to navigate. They weren’t.
I pressed on steadily and carefully.
I did not experience arm pain, but there were plenty from the Cartilages. The arm aches started when I got into the flat.
I called into the continental shop and got some food. Then, I finally reached the bottom of Winchester Street. I have no idea of the bus timings nowadays, so 
I hastened… Haha! And hobbled up Winchester to the bus stop.
Luckily a bus was due in six minutes.
I stood up on the bus. I didn’t want to start Chloe and Carole off again. The arms were twinging a little now, not as bad as later on, and in the morning, Wow!
Gt in the flats, said hello to Warden Julie as I passed, and up to the flat. Food & sleep, I’m sure, were primarily on my mind.
And boy, after eating, (I took a snap of the meal as I recall, and the batteries ran out in Kodak Tim. Did I sleep? Yep! I slept for about 14 hours!
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INCHY’S PAINFUL INSPIRATION
I was so chuffed with my handling all of the confusion,
Although, at times, it seemed like a hallucination,
Sorting the chemistas out crippled my bunion!
I felt like I’d walked to and back from Euston!
It was painful to free myself from inaction,
I suffered incapacitation but had an incarnation.
Despite the pain from the Covid and Flu injections,
And having to face averbal inquisition,
I say this with no doubts but justification…
I believe this should/could be achievable…
Twice a week, if the weather is allowable…
I’ll take a walk around the flats, well, a hobble!
It may be stopped by Bunion Baz or Cartilage Carol,
Inchies, Fungal lesion, Diabetes, things Peripheral,
Seizures Sandra, Sham’s Shocks electrical,
No problem, I can always reschedule!
The hobble will naturally start off ephemeral…
If this goes well, and my body is permissible,
Although these plans sound frangible…
My new power may make them possible!
But I’ve no desire to walk so far ever again!
TTFN
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While doing the brewing,
And, I not long since when taking the shower shaving routine, that my right hanging-sack is swollen and so tender. Humph!
About 45 wee-wees later, I’d stopped drinking before going to the doctor and got things ready to go. But if the Carer is any later I may miss the bus… “I may miss the bus!”! You may not believe the farce that took place… However, by way of a cheer, the 
Arrived, and I asked him if he could help me with getting the does on, Or to be more precise, fasten the velcro on them. TY was happy enough to do that for me. I waffled too much, and the lad forgot to give me the second Omeprazole table, my fault. Treats selected in, on my insistence, thanks. Took the waste bag with him as he left. I wandered of again there, sorry.
blossomed.
When a lady got on who I’d not seen for ages, I started a chinwag with her. As she got to get off, I realised that we were on top of Mapperley Plains
, and she asked if she could call a taxi for me. Bless Her! 
began.
I got wrapped up well, remembered the Sample tube thingy, filled, of course. Hehe! 
We arrived at the next stop, and a lady and gent got on. It’s been so long since I saw them since I don’t get out much, and I greeted them like family and launched into questioning them about how they were getting on. The lady said she was sorry, but they were getting off at the next bus stop. Then a sickening feeling filled my stomach, with a self-hating mode coming on when I realised where we were, going in the opposite direction. I’d got on the wrong bus! 
mode, but it soon became one when I realised the problem I was going to have to get to the surgery on time now. 
This arrived within three minutes and five more, and we were pulling up at the Sherrington Park Surgery. The sun came out as I paid my dues. 
To whoever the lady was who helped dave the appointment for me. ♥
I’d got the appointment timing all mixed up again! Shouldn’t really be such a shock with my record, but so many in such a short space of time were worrying me a smidgeon.
I don’t suppose for one second that they bother my uninvited interloping brain resident, Dementia Doreen, do you think?
I told the Doc all about my four sleepless nights and the mushrooming, three-time it’s usual size tender right bit in my men’s department. I can’t be certain, but I thought I detected a little wry-smile creep into her expression.
what she said clearly. 
then. Haha! 
worse. I really am in the shit now, and have to walk to the chemist and then catch two buses to get home! 
There was only one really near-bothersome that happened en route.
. BY Gawd, SOSTH didn’t half sting for a bit. Good job, I didn’t go over. 
. Woke at about 03:30hrs and was soon back in the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner again, after taking a wee-wee.