– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The fleetingness of life, so often a worry…
Well, it was years ago, death? Not in a hurry,
But existence now is endured abrasively,
Manipulated by the rich, the Oligarchy,
No race is safe, Peruvian, Welsh or Aussie,
One thing humankind perfected is bigotry,
Another is war, killing mercilessly…
Wars, for some, show profitability,
The greed, hatred, jealousy and irony,
Rulers lead, aloof, so conceitedly,
Faith, hope, love entwined with devilry,
Gone is eloquency, cometh exorbitancy,
Some exist thanks to eleemosynary,
Others believe in & practice diablery,
Some will see their end euphorically!
A few accept it, but sycophantishly,
I greet it as being somnipathy…
Death, commonsense, but with speciosity,
I’ve not lived brainlessly, injudiciously,
I’d had my moments of irresponsibility,
Albeit, at times, a smidge unintelligently,
My brain once worked reliably…
Doreen Dementia turned it into sciosophy,
Now it works partly-theoretically,
I can no longer have sex or even pee…
Do you think I’m searching for sympathy?
Of this, I may well be found guilty!
I am available as a Grandfather adoptee, I make a grand mug of Glengettie tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SISTER JANE & INCHY 1952ish SISTER JANE & INCHY2018ish
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke around 04:00hrs. I lay there in the hospital bed, doing my darndest to get back to sleep. Refusing to get up and face the world, I was determined to nod off again. Unfortunately, came on strong. I spent until 05:45hrs in misery, feeling incapable, lost, and guilty, self-hatred, confident-shattering thoughts bought up in response to TST’s ever-nagging, fault-finding, insulting torrent of bad memories. 05:50:hrs, I gave up trying to sleep.
After removing the nocturnal catheter pouch, I saw this one was a 7 on the NHS Urinometer Scale. Got myself up on my feet, the usual complaints from and . And were the worst of the ailments initially.
I grabbed it and set off for the wet room, I needed the Throne. Fearing another session with pain was imminent after the rock-hard torpedo evacuation yesterday. I gritted my teeth as I sat on the plastic seat… This was unexpected; the Karki mush splattered everywhere and was finished within a few seconds. This was so quick I anticipated a second helping would follow shortly. I removed the thick Protection Pants from Amazon, only to find I’d made a mess all over the mats and floor. The inner padding had split open again! What a mess! I cleaned the splashed-over WC basin but could not vacuum over the mats and floor as it was too early. I hate the thought that I might disturb my neighbours. Got some fresh PPs on. Now, I must remember to clean the room later – I logged in with the brain to record this message. Which was hopeful, if not futile. Of course, I didn’t remember! (As of 23:10hrs)
After washing up after the session, the hands looked much improved compared to Wednesday’s. Carer Sam thinks it must be something I used for cleaning.
I went to the kitchen to check the taps, cooker, fridge, and freezer doors. All were okay this morning. Then, I took three photos of the morning sky. The first one, I think, was blurry as I didn’t expect it to be so cold out there. The outside thermometer read -3°c. The second of roughly the same view came out better. Then I noticed two planets in the sky, the left one bigger than the right one… or was it the other way around. I’m confused cause I could not see them in the photos taken. I did my best to get a closer shot of the planets. I think Tim Price said they would have been Venus & Pluto. Not a reasonable effort or result. Mayhap I rushed this one cause I was getting cold. Hehe!
I changed into a thicker, warmer dressing gown and changed the day, date and time on my super new Korean 1969-made calendar clock.
Carer Sam arrived. We had a little laugh and nattering session. Then, we sorted out my medications and put on my diabetic socks. All are recorded in the log.
I took this photo of the bottom field below the tree copse, barren of people and dogs. A rarity indeed! The temperature had gone up to -2°c. I checked on the pickled mushroom and water chestnuts in the fridge. I think they need a day or two longer, and I added a bit of basil to the jar.
Carer Same returned. Tablets only this time. I took an extra effervescent paracetomal and Codiene 30g. Because had been joined and assisted in giving me pain by . Who was back on form with her chest wandering stabs of pain. I would have to be the two top pain-givers at the same time. Minutes after writing these words, started tugging, ‘Well, fancy said’, I said.
I dug out some Cortesteroid cream, girded my loins, and rubbed in the bream. I may have cursed a smidgeon and nearly spat. Something like ‘Oh, bother it!”
I caught sight of the state of the leading junk room. This needs urgent rectification. Tidying up, sorting out. This reminded me of the wetroom that needs some attention cleaning-wise as well. I’ve not done any of them as yet. But at least I’ve made plans to do them! Ahem!
The sun is coming out now. But it doesn’t seem to be melting the rooftops yet. I’ll look at the temperature… it shows as 0.1°c.
I got the blog for Wednesday updated and posted. I started on CorelDraw to set up the photos taken this morning. For some reason, whatever that is, CorelDraw is really going mega-slow. I ran CCleaner, hoping things would improve. I did the same via Norton straight afterwards. These runs cost me over an hour to get done. Coreldraw is still slow, but I think it is not as slow as initially. Then again, what do I know.
I started on this blog a long time ago. But it was slow-going, and later, I showed the pictures of the fire on Wednesday’s blog to Carer Christopher when he arrived. I found six grammar or spelling errors that I’d missed. I corrected them somewhat belatedly. Maybe I should just cut it down to a Cartoon, the BP, and a daily ode? But I love waffling and doing this diary.
, and , all three, which had eased off a little, all returned with a vengeance. I lost another hour or so, so concentrating on the blog was impossible. I pottered about in the kitchen doing nothing much but convinced myself I was.
17:35hrs: Carer Christopher arrived on the next-to-last call of the day. He sorted the medications. I showed him the photos of the fire and found all the mistakes I’d made in Wednesday’s blog that needed correcting. Brungleclogs! Incredibly, the lad gets calls from Nigeria every time he calls. How the World has changed. I recall having to find a telephone box, ensuring I had three pennies to use. Press button A, and if the call did not get through or answered, press button B to get my 3d back. Stack of telephone number books in there. The posters were adorned with sex-workers numbers, among others. That distinctive smell was present in all telephone boxes.
Ah, memories!
I must press on with this blog. Excuse me while I do. An hour has passed, and I feel overdrained and somewhat hungry. Tired & kicked in again! Sob!
Battered Fish Balls… With Marmite cheese, pickled beetroot, cheese-topped bread rolls with no-butter butter, & slices of tomatoes. Followed by a cream lime dessert. And very tasty, it was too! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Take Care & Keep Safe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A STAB AT STARMER? He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised. When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.
I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on. Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe! I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the . So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony! Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers. They were becoming a bit itchy, too. As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.
No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead. The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.
It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!
I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.
Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;
First sighting as I put the kettle on. Is it a fire or not… No Fire Brigade response yet. Still no brigade. Is it looking worse? No response. It’s dying down a bit, I think.
Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.
I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99. And blow me, the fire was smoking again. I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there. I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!
I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website. Very regrettably, I clicked the link…
ARGH! I WAS HACKED! The computer went to full screen and froze!
The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.
Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’
They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now! Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again! Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?
I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.
Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.
It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did! Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with. I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone. Then, they went above and beyond… They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that. Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back!
It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.
It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!
It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before. Maybe never any.
I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.
A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her. Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.
I wish I didn’t hate Liberty-Global anymore… My distrust of them makes my brain sore, L-G bought Virgin Media, costing $24b for sure! The internet service has grown evermore poor… Phone to complain you get an AI advisor, an IVR, I wish to leave! You’ll not get an answer… You get put through to talk to another, You listen for an hour to a musical overture, Another robot answers: pick options 1 to 24, Get to speak to a human with their own agenda, Offering packages that can save you more… You stop to take a tablet, an antiseizure. Upgrade to the £240 monthly package, It’s on offer, 25.2% off until November! Of course, it’s all crap, a load of bilgewater, Then the line goes dead, Hell & Highwater! These Virgin agents are getting smarter… Their whims, cons, & deceit is getting cagier, Days later, they ring you! To tell yer… EE have a fantastic new customer offer? Also, BT has one that’s a little costlier… But their broadband is so much bigger? You’d be better off going onto our fibre! You say I’ll think about it, my dear… You ring off, thinking there’s summat queer… Are they using a sort of counterpropaganda? Their response you can’t decipher, So puzzled, you decide to consult Alexa!
The reason soon becomes plain to see… Liberty-Global bought Virgin; we agree… The Chair of L-G get a $64m salary yearly, They are so rich, beyond any moderator, Bought out/invested in many a supplier… Vodafone, BT, EE, UPC, Canal+, Three… The world’s largest cable company., Mango, Yves Rocher, Pizza Hut, & ITV plc, So, recommending offers from another company, Makes sense now, at least to me, clearly… So, they might be the biggest Oligarchy? With the world facing its fatal finale, Oligarchs beseech: Can I take it with me? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What an odd day! I can honestly say, Come what may, The morning was alackaday, The afternoon… Oh yay… The seizures refused to go away, Nothing could be done medically, I considered my options, alcoholically, Ruined my chances of adaptability, Errors in spelling, a missed apostrophe… Grammar, spelling, correcting, abominably, Plans executions all with indeterminacy, The entire day flowed with ambiguity, I say flow, twas a stutter in reality, So long and often spent condemnatorily, My own thoughts & intentions were a mystery, Ideas created, seconds later were history… No contentment, satisfaction, peace or equanimity, Yet a Carer saved the day, it was Chloe, An email arrived; Telegraph was taking my money, £239 for my supposed subscription pay?
Chole soon made this worry go away,
She cancelled it for me – Hurrah!
Seizure Sandra started again, alarmingly,
More blog mistakes, I got little done accurately,
I struggled to analyse even simple things today,
Until 1700hrs, when Sandra went away…
Typing this, expecting her to be back shortly,
I apologise for this blog, which is also shortie,
Not the right word, but it rhymed, you see,
After regaining a modicum of semi-logicality,
I did my best to try to be poetically witty
So, I wrote you all this funny little ditty,
Which you may consider a pity?
It’s less exciting than embroidery,
Neither is it extraordinary,
My mind’s less fragmentary,
I feel better; fractionally,
I’ve lost my lunacy,
I now feel… solitary,
Alone, lonely,
Is it January?
I’m hungry,
It’s back… the caducity! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got carried away there. It is now 18:25hrs. I’ve no chance of getting this done unless another one of my working through the early morning sessions. I’ll rush; forgive any blaring mistakes & cock-up, please. Here I go. No, I don’t! I just remembered I’ve got a food order coming! I’d better wait until that arrives; otherwise, I’ll be lost if the Seizures start again. Here I go, a quickie, I hope… I must not get so carried away when typing, do you hear me? Me: Yes, sorry.
Nocturnal Pouch.
Waste bags were collated & taken to the chute. Feel guilty now; it was too early in the day!
Changed the date and day on my super-modern 1972 calendar clock. Shot through the kitchen window. Rain relacing the snow now.
Made a brew of Co-op 99 tea.
Seizures started, and the following may be out of chronological order.
Balcony shot. What a mudslide!
In the afternoon, most of the morning events were lost. Carer Richard came, but I can’t read my memory notes for Richards’s visit. So, no details.
I recall taking this shot. I was flabbergasted to see they still had scaffolding on this home. Over a year now since I first saw it? Cowboys?
It took this one later.
Afternoon blue skies.
Food en route.
Evening.
Found my sense of humour when the seizures eased off. Took this snap of the Nurses and Carers nibble box. Then, this close-up. I think the Mars bars and Twix have been mating? Hahaha!
Carer Chloe helped me sort out the email from the Telegraph about them charging me for my subscription. What I can’t remember taking out? For over £200! Chloe sorted it out and showed me how to cancel it. ♥ Well, she did it!
Carer Promise did the last two calls today. With me coughing & sneezing, he found a short pair of diabetic soaks to go on and took off the long ones. Kind of him.
Later in the evening. I took these snaps
Here’s some of the nosh delivered. From the Co-op via Amazon.
Now, I am going to get something to eat, And see if any football is on the telly to watch. If I can stay awake, of course.
I will be back in the morning to update you on this.
G’d Morning! Two cheesy rolls with non-butter butter & cheese spread. Sliced tomatoes (No finger cuts). Marmite & salt added! Onion rings, pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes & onions. Water chestnuts, chicken thigh. Two naughty strawberry doughnuts to follow. The chicken was tasteless, hence a lower rating.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My biggest current hated one is Starmer,
Prospective murderer of every pensioner…
Over-taxing every single farmer,
Our UK leader, food shortage creator,
Labour Party standards & morals abolisher,
Lady Starmer shops at Harrods, not Asda,
He’s started the UK exodus, the diaspora,
Couldn’t give a toss about the poorer,
I’d love to kick him in his detrusor!
He’s a deceitful and clever truth-denier
A freebooter, ever seeking a backhander,
An out-of-order denunciator,
His talks are klutzier, a send-to-sleeper!
Blaming others for his faults, a derogator,
He thinks he’s superior, an exemplar…
A political King, a Simon Templar,
Listening to him yak, installs longueur,
Starmer’s budget was a villain’s charter,
I believe he’s infected with Cherophobia…
Except when taking a political sweetener,
He’s no vivifier but often a vilifier!
Not a captivator, more a verbal chloroformer,
The best manipulative political by-omission liar!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke up with the regulation jerk and jump. I got on the side of the hospital bed and tackled, freeing the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Kimberly told me it was 6 on the NHS Richter scale card. Then I looked at the clock, seeing it was only 0350 hrs. I pondered getting back into bed, but the innards started rumbling and grumbling at that moment.
So, I rose to hobble to the wet room, quite carefully at first, as she was a little delicate, and I feared she may give way in me. This thought was forgotten as soon as I’d thought of it! The rear-end motion began to move of its own accord! . And I hobbled at my best attainable rate to the wet room… I didn’t make it in time. . I don’t need to go into any detail, do I?
20 minutes later, I cleaned up the mess, sprayed the room with air freshener and went out of the wet room door… I hit the door frame with my right shoulder as gave way. Perfect timing from Carole. Kicked off, naturally. But physically, I am used to this happening. Mentally, I get annoyed and angry, especially following the automatic-style evacuation.
Making it worse, I had to put on the bulky protection pants in case it happened again. Tchah!
To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. Why should this calm me down? I don’t understand, but many folks do the same.
I saw the snow through the kitchenette window. The photo did not come out well. So I bravely went out onto the balcony to take more pictures of the state of the roads. Starting with the front car park.
Then I opened the left end window to take this shot on the left of the car park further along Chestnut Way Finally, through the right end window of the end car park. After trapping my finger and closing the window, I wondered how many I’d had until now. I think I’d only been up for an hour; what else is in store for me? Hehehe!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a fresh brew of Glengettie tea. I took it to the main junk room and to the computer thingy.
Adjusted my relic of a clock calendar’s day and date. And a real rarity here… I dunked four of my favourite cookies in the tea without any of the biscuits getting dropped.
Seconds later… , . I knocked the tea mug off the desk, dropping it into the waste bin.
Surely this farce can’t go on any further? Still, getting them out of the way early in the day is best.
So, I cleaned it up and then collated the waste bins into one bag. And with no further calamities, mishaps, or !
Kicked off within minutes of me getting on with the blog. Thankfully, they were short, but so many of them over the next four hours.
Carer Shaq arrived. He had an inkling that I was not right, although I don’t think I had any when he was here. I did tell him later about them, though. He sorted the medications and adorned me with diabetic socks. We had a natter, but what about is anyone’s guess.
I went back to blogging and continued. I felt I was working well, but of course I wasn’t. Each time I returned to mock-life, I checked what had been done while I was in La-La Land, finding errors every time. Thus, it took me far too long to get it done. But I got there eventually.
I stopped to take some more pictures of the weather-bashed view. This was of the bottom field below the tree copse. Some kids had gotten plastic sleighs out and were having fun. I got the Kodak out when I saw the kids, but they had gone by the time I returned to the window. (Is this Possibly an unnoticed seizure?) No wonder I’m concerned about taking a bus and walking in traffic. Being housebound—well, flatbound—benefits someone in my condition. Haha! I made another brew of tea, Co-op 99, this time. Since it looked like just past 2 p.m. on the clock, I resisted any biscuits.
I grafted on with this blog, but I’m not getting very far very quickly, even though the frequency has slightly decreased. Anyway, the things I noticed after the event were all short-term affairs, which suits me.
I made yet another brew, Glengettie, this time. But I left it to mash for a few minutes and forgot about it. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberley called. She kindly put some cream on my bleeding lips and nose. I had not noticed. It’s not unusual for the pain from cracked lips and gums or for other pains, but I didn’t realise how much they were bleeding. Bless Her ♥. The £599.00 /100 ml Toothache pain relief spray is so effective. Thankfully, I still have some in-store to use, and I use them.
Blimey, I saw the fog descending as I returned the mug to the kitchenette. There had been cold winds, a bit of rain, then snow, and the fog was coming on. Almost eyra looking. As I write this, I just glanced at the balcony, and the fog is even thicker now. Mind you, I think I’m getting thicker—physically and mentally.
Hello, is having a go at me now. A persistent little Madam as well.
Long, well, massive periods of Mind-Blanks.
Scary that I did not know what had happened for hours.
I’ll see what fodder in the fridge and freezer can attract me to my earlier-than-usual desire for food.
The fish in batter appealed. But with frequent momentary visits from , I had the nonce not to risk fancy cooking. But I fancied these battered fish, so I risked cooking them in the mini-oven, making sure that I was doing nothing else so I could concentrate and not move from the kitchen all the time they were cooking, and I checked on them all the time. I was then aware of burn and fire risk limitations.
I ate all these without any bread—just some peas—and they were enjoyed immensely. I cleared and cleaned up. Then, I 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, and turned on the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV.
I tried to put on the Oligarch’s Fibre rediculously exspensive full-of-repeats Virgin Media TV. But it would not let me. No Signal came up about 2000 times in response to pressing the button. So I gave up. I was getting weary of this.
Despite Dizzy Dennis, & Confusion Konrad, Tired-Out-Inchy won the battle and drifted off to sleep.
Carer Richard woke me up to make the last call of the day. I was in the right state! Mumbling and knowing I was doing so this time. I fear things did not go well. I’ve no idea why.
Richard departed, and I floated back into heavenly sleep. Just a few moments of waking up, I blissfully returned to the land of nod each time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – No chance of my thoughts getting rejuvenation, My original creation, lost in the brains reticulation, I move on to something of no relation, I fear that I’ve hosted retardation, My thoughts bear little relation… To the current topic, No reconceptualization, FND & Dementia, both a rapscallion, No medical understanding or ratification, Sneezing, coughing, farting & ructation, Common sense, logicality in retrogression, Practicality and hope are past their rubicon… Sanity & I are beyond reconciliation! Acne, eczema, boil in my bellybutton, Daily existence is now a botheration, I’ve gone downhill since my confirmation, Existence has become challenging, an aberration, No peace, joy, company or coruscation, I’ve lived my life in bourgeoisification, My plans and designs became just a botheration, – – – – – – – – – – To the world, these are my last claims, declarations, I claim to have more than most do of individuality, You do that when your life’s been an abomination, Life was good until my 60th birthday celebration, I’d been thrown in the canal, but life was fun, Then my life suffered, a massive bifurcation… Had to have a major heart operation, Went deaf, Cataract, a rear-passage operation… Fell into a fishing pond when on vacation, Made redundant, jobless, the humiliation, Job hunting was a complete circumbilivagination… Ending, failing, no one employing… 62-year-old Inchy, accused of shirking! By the Department of Employment & working, All I could get was a job in Security Guarding, I shot twice, minimum pay, embarrassing! Redundant again, by the Sawley Security, This was the end of working for me, A duodenal Ulcer lodged in my tummy, Then diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, They made my testicles, Cancer-free, Cognitive Impairment came to lodge with me, Bladder Cancer diagnosed dauntingly, Catheter Contraption was fitted for free, Ever since, every day has been agony, Then Dementia was discovered, then FND, All getting worse, thankfully slowly… The bowels passing, either solid or mushy, Never normal… but that’s me to a tea! I should be complaining vociferously… Then Starmer gets in, tragically, Oozing criminogenically: corruptively, Lining his pockets with things for free… I’ve lost the plot of this Ode… Sorry! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A much better week! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up after trying to get back to sleep for a long time. I was 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. A lousy night, the worst one for ages, and I was so tired, but Sweet Morpheus didn’t want me to rest. I must have nodded off dozens of times. It felt like each one was on for only minutes. Hey-Ho!
0430 hrs: I got my horrendously massively-bellied body out of the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. My first task was removing the attached nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag.
I must admit, I surprised myself as I started to hobble around with . The balance was, as usual for that time of day, dodgy. But I noticed that my were much kinder to me this morning. I decided to take advantage and set to do a few jobs while I felt capable. I sorted all the waste bin liners into one big bin liner and put them near the door. I’ve only got one outer door, so it was easy to find. Hahaha! I am a fool. I started cleaning the kitchen tops but diverted to the wet room. As I was on my way, I thought something was wrong here; yesterday, Constipation Conrad was in complete control, and my innards warned me to move on to avoid earlier-than-planned leaks or evacuations. Good job that I did rush, too. It was milliseconds after I’d got seated that the tsunami started. It lasted for a good while. The cleaning up took a long time. I creamed and ointmentated the required areas of my anatomy… is that the right word? Half an hour later, all was done. I avoided putting on the protective pants by foolishly not wearing fresh ones after washing. Why? I’ll tell you. The pain from the Catheter tube can be worse when putting the Tena ones on. Usually, especially when Trotsky Terence is active, there is a chance that I’d be caught out later on with involuntary escapages. Even if no one knows, I’ve often felt so embarrassed in this situation. Writing this prompted an iota of common sense. And I went to put some on. The agony of bending the knee caused me to lose balance, and I tore the pants. They are not cheap. I tried again, and more pain aided me to force the leg to go in. Unfortunately, I lost balance and hit my right knee against the Porcelain. Was not amused, and let me know. Suddenly, I lost my appetite for getting jobs done.
In a semi-sulk, I got the kettle on and took this photograph of the very early morning view on offer from the kitchenette window. There was no fog, a few clouds, and the winds had died down from yesterday. The outside temperature on the computer was showing Nottingham as 0.0ºc. Freezing?
As I started on the computer, I had a bout of phlegm coming up and sneezing. Within maybe a minute, they both stopped. There’ll be a reason for this. Then my nosh started to bleed and run into my mouth and onto my chin? I was busy soaking it up for about ten minutes before I stopped the main flow. The handle was handy as a kitchen roll holder near the computer chair. Cunning!
I checked the cupboard for snacks. The micro rice stood out, so I decided that would do. I seasoned it with water, added basil and BBW flavouring, and boiled the water. Then, I grabbed the packet – ! Would you like to guess the sell-by-date I found on the packet? Here are some loose clues for you: ⒈I threw the rice away. ⒉The date was when the UK Covid-19 vaccinations started. ⒊The four numbers of the year add up to 6, one being a nought. ⒋Three numbers are the same. ⒌These three rhyme with stew. Go on, have a guess, just for a bit of fun!
Carer Chris issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on my legs and had a nibble and drinkie-poo. He” be back, he said. Haha! While Chris was here, I had several mini-seizures in a very short time. After I’d cleared my head, Chris said that I had them in the computer chair, and I was bumbling instead of talking and shaking on my right side, with my head down throughout. He was on the verge of calling 999 when I suddenly started talking usually, but I didn’t know I had been in the first place. Chris had to shoot of, and I felt different, but not poorly or anything like that. Just slightly confused. I thought. But the (about) next two hours disappeared.
Carer Joanne called for the midday visit & to see how I was. And I was normal. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be.
I took a forgotten afternoon view through the inner glass door of the balcony. Then, I continued updating, checking over and correcting many mistakes in the latter part of the blog.
Carer Joanne came. Asking how I was, I said fine, thank you. Bless her ♥
Returned, but they were back to the regular sort. Some of them lasting just a minute or thereabouts. I know where I am with these. Well…
Darkness dawned. I took these snaps. The lovely blue hue was back tonight.
I’m waiting now for the eveningCarer to arrive. Soon, I hope. Cause I’m getting hungry, but not enough to rescue that rice. Hahaha!
I’ll do some work on this blog while waiting.
No good, I’ll have to make a meal! Milk Roll bread bacon with sliced tomato sarnies. Home-made pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes and onion, and pickled water chestnuts. I forgot to put the pickled beetroots on the plate. Tsk! A pot of pickled ketchup for dunking the sarnies it. And a lemon dessert.
After eating and washing up, Carer Chris arrived, and I sat down to see if there was any football in the box. He came early and was in a rush, which suited me. He didn’t skip or miss any medications, took my diabetic socks off, and put on the night catheter bag. However, in the morning, I discovered he had forgotten to retake the laundry and the waste bag. Otherwise, he’s been a good lad this week. Bless him.
The football was on the box, but not for an hour yet. I struggled to stay awake until it started. As usual, I drifted off into slumberland when the first adverts came on goggle-box. I woke up with a jump when the football programme screen credits started rolling as it finished. I seem to have a habit of doing this. Humph!
I turned off the TV and went back to Sweet Morpheus. I kept waking up so often I got annoyed by it. However, each time, I got back to sleep quickly. When I woke again, I could see through the window that snow had fallen.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Inchy: Why do you mention I’m depressed? Grim: You are obviously out of it detracted! Inchy: Detracted? No, but I am dim-witted, Grim: Delipidated, & diabetically demented, Inchy: Well, to a small degree, I do feel dejected, Grim: And discriminated, against, disenchanted? Inchy: Well, possibly disjointed & dislocated, Grim: You’re feeling undiagnosed, disregarded? Inchy: How do you know all this? I’m dumbfounded, Grim: You look & sound like an eggheaded plod! Inchy: You’re saying I’m dunderheaded? Grim: Yes, & downcast, discontented, disoriented, mentally dissected, & obviously diapered, Inchy: Hang on… am I or not being Grim Reapered, Grim: You’re on the waiting list, position 623rd! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0315hrs: I sprang awake more slowly today. A certain reluctance lingered as I noted what the time was. I tried to get back to sleep, but it was impossible. I removed the overnight Catheter Pouch. Cartilage Carole did not bother me as I tried to rise, but Cartilage Chloe had it for me. By the time I’d carried the nocturnal bag to the WC for emptying, she had given way twice. No falls or tumbles, though. I emptied the pouch and wrapped it up. Then I had a search for the reading spectacles lost yesterday, in I thought, the wet room. Talk about reversals; after days of Trotsky Terence in charge, Constipation Conrad was back in charge. After a determined and painfully encouraging, pushing session, I gave up any hopes of achieving evacuationing.
With figuratively crossed fingers, I put the computer on and started to upload and save the photos for yesterday’s post updating. One went okay this time.
Within ten minutes, I needed to visit the Porcelain, hoping that this time Constipation Conrad had eased off enough for me to evacuate. Off I trundled to the wet room. After I bought more toilet rolls to counter Trotsky Terence, Conrad Constipation returned with a vengeance!
It may have only been a few minutes to force things along. Painfully! It was more like the shape of the H-Bomb, Little Boy. I needed another couple of minutes to recover from the effort! Hehe! I can laugh now! On the bright side, cleaning up after the evacuation was easy.
I poddled back to the computer. After four more hours, around 0800hrs, I realised the Carer had not arrived yet. And it showed the outside temperature at -3°c when I first put the computer on. It’s showing 0°c now. Still too cold not to have my socks on. Brrr! I will make a mug of tea to help warm me up, then put a quilt over me when I return to the computer. They can leave off the midday call now; no point in medications. I have to leave 4 hours between each tablet and medicine taking. 08:10hrs now.
0905hrs: Carer Christopher came as I took photos of the cold-looking morning views. First, Chris got the medications issued. He remembered to put on the diabetic socks for me, and after I reminded him, the Friday fitting of a fresh day pouch was carried out. Hehe! We chatted, and he nibbled on the treats throughout. Haha!
The lad did a decent job fitting the day catheter. The socks are now keeping me warm, and I feel a warm sensation that things could turn for the better now.
Why? A Good questions.
Answer: I’ve no idea.
But it could be because I got help yesterday from outsiders. DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse Christina, Catheter bags ordering. Matron Julie, with the BP and health checks, and Anne Gyna were not playing up so much.
Here are the photographs taken just before Carer Chris arrived. I’ll change that. Here is the picture taken just before Carer Chris arrived. The Kodak sent the other one taken into the ether. Humph!
I went to the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running. I’m doing this too often lately, and it gets me mad at myself… feeling guilty and depressed. But not this morning. I came out and went to put the kettle on and found the missing pair of long-range glasses sitting on top of the mini oven. This cheered me considerably, and I took the spectacles to the junk room, where I cleaned them, finding out… . I must have put them on there and then cooked the sausages for half an hour… the frames are now warped! I didn’t cry, but it was a close thing. But it doesn’t bother me.
Frustrated, I made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. And raided my biscuit box. I wish I hadn’t now. The first dunk in the tea with one of the large LU cookies and the biscuit crumbled and fell in the mug, splashing the old-fashioned clock/calendar, cabinet me, and the notepad. Humph!
I was peed off with myself again. I carried on with the blog and finished yesterday’s work. A text message told me the food order would arrive between 1100 & 1200hrs. So I got some boxes and carriers near the door to use when the delivery arrives. I took the large waste bag to the chute without walking into anything or finger-trapping.
I looked at Cavendish Vale houses to see if the loft drug growers were at it again. Looks like it to me. Do you see the roofs that were defrosted earlier than others? That looks suspicious to me. And there were two police cars and a van on it yesterday evening. I went into a Sherlock Holmesian mode then. Sorry about that. Hahaha!
Around 1400 hrs, the Mini-Seizures, the kindest they have ever been since she moved in with Peripheral Pete and Nicodemus’s Dying Neurotransmitters, started making a belated charge and engaged her attack mode. During this, Carer Joanne called, and we started sharing jokes and events; it was like having medicine. I was almost entirely with it suddenly. No sooner than Joanne departed the flat, then began again, and stayed with me a long time. Everything went hazy. They were extremely short events, but was that a good thing? It seemed I could not get anything right on this block. Each time I came out of one, I had to check everything I’d done and correct it. Also, this is the first time I’ve gone back into a mini seizure so quickly, and on one occasion that I recall, I was putting things right and went off again. What the… I nearly swore then; heck is going on. And this morning, she was all but absent? The nurse thinks they are a part of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. I searched the web to see if I could find anyone who suffers from it and found anything to counter it. I only got as far as this bit that I’ve copied on neurotransmitters.
Here are some key facts about neurotransmitters, which are chemical messengers in the body & brain. Their function is to transmit signals from nerve cells to target cells. These signals help regulate bodily functions ranging from heart rate to appetite. Neurotransmitters are part of the nervous system. Neurotransmitters are released from the end of an axon into the synapse, where they travel across to receptors on the next neuron. The neurotransmitters fit into the receptors like keys into locks.How they influence neuronsNeurotransmitters can influence neurons in three ways: excitatory, inhibitory, or modulatory. Excitatory neurotransmitters promote action potential signalling, while inhibitory ones prevent it. Examples of neurotransmitters Serotonin is an inhibitory neurotransmitter that helps regulate mood, behaviour, sleep, and memory. Epinephrine, or adrenaline, is an excitatory neurotransmitter that stimulates the central nervous system. (Hence Shaking Shaun? Shaking Shoulder Shirley & Twitching Neck Nigel?) Abnormal levels of neurotransmitters can lead to dysregulation of brain functions and various diseases. Examples of Disorders Associated With Defects in Neurotransmission Autism, Anxiety, Autism spectrum disorders, Brain injury, Depression, Seizure disorders, Neuroleptic malignant syndrome, Pain, Parkinsonism, Parkinson disease, Schizophrenia, Tardive dyskinesia, Myasthenia gravis, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Episodic ataxias (that’ll be Seizure Sanda?), Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis, Hypokalemic periodic paralysis, paramyotonia congenita, Rasmussen encephalitis, & Organophosphates.
I was going to go on to check Peripheral Neuropathy and my other ailment, but after reading this about my dying neurotransmitters… what’s the point? It all baffles me. With so many things connected, it’s not surprising that the clinic gave this answer when I asked years ago, What is the treatment? “There is none; no one can save a dying nerve end”. Of course, as I knew, it was slowly getting worse, and I was getting more depressed with it all.
I just had to force myself to check on the first Peripheral Neuropathy explanation that came on my search. PN: Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that can cause a variety of symptoms, including:
Numbness, tingling, or prickling: (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
These sensations can start in your hands or feet and spread up your arms and legs.
Pain: You might experience sharp, burning, throbbing pain or pain during activities that shouldn’t cause pain. (Yes, that’s me!
You might experience muscle weakness or loss of muscle tone. (Yes, I’ve got them)
Loss of balance: You might experience difficulty coordinating or falling. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Changes in sensation: You might not feel temperature changes or pain. (Spot on again!)
Other symptoms: You might experience cramping, muscle twitching, changes in skin, hair, or nails, or emotional disturbances. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Autonomic changes: You might experience heat or cold intolerance. Or related problems.
Problems with blood pressure, bowel or bladder control, or swallowing. (Yes, I’ve got all of them) In fact, the DVT Warfarin INR level is dropping again, and they are going to send me some Enoxaparin injections to go in the stomach three times a day on both sides. I’m looking forward to injecting myself, if not needed to, for over a year now. No problem, really… apart from the pain. Which is something I’ve learnt to live with… Live? Me? Cope with, is a more accurate statement.
To add to possible concerns, there’s Metal Micky in my ticker. Toothache Tiffiny, Bad Hearing Boris, Gladys Glaucoma, Catheter Cathy’s Contraption, Diabetes2, FND, Colin Cramps, a daily Porcelain Throne Visits with a choice of Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad (it’s always one or the over, never normal), Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Deakness, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Arthur Itis & Cartilage Damage in both knees, Little Inches fungal lesion bleeding, Mind-Blanks, Short Term Memory Problems, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s Leg Dances & Right Arm Hitler Salutes, both involuntary, Back-Pain-Brenda, Onychovryptosis (ingrowing toenail), Earaches Erasmus, and Eczema & Acne. I may have missed a few. Hehehe!
Do you know, the chinwag & laugh with Joanne, then the nurse, had was a reet treat.
The later seizures seem to be a little different. Gar more shaking from the right arm & leg. More persistent with it as well. My head was involuntarily bent down and forward on each of the last four episodes. I’d be lost if I didn’t have at least one new ailment or quirk to worry about daily. The shock could be fatal. Haha!
Daily FodderCheesy cobs & tomatoes were lovely. As was the pickled mushrooms, red cabbage & onions. The pork pie & potatoes were not so good. Ah, well, can’t win ’em all!
I suddenly felt weary and tired. Almost instantly, after turning off the computer, Carer Christopher arrived, removed my socks, and medicated me. He covered me with a quilt after putting on my night catheter pouch; bless him. He knew I would not make it into the hospital bed tonight, and he was right!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My medicationing & ablutions were completed, My hands looked blotchy, bony, extravasated, Cadaveric, but I wasn’t bothered or over-wherrited,
Suddenly, my Grim Reaper visited,
What we discussed, we both quadrated,
Aren’t you ready yet, Inchy? he obsecrated,
I smiled at him, and he nictated,
I asked him if dying was time-obligated…
How’d you like me to go: Run over & be mangulated?
Grim said it didn’t matter, perhaps being lapidated?
Well, I said, I’ve spent already being dilapidated,
We laughed when I said I wanted to be cremated
Grim said, Supposed you’ll die fully intestated?
Grim asked, had I managed to get trothplighted,
I replied, no, I’m still waiting to be dated,
I reminded him of the ailments I’d collected…
Grim asked; Have you become hypocondriated?
Inchy: No, but my ailments had escalated,
Grim: Well, you are getting on and dated! Inchy; All tellurians do that, I elucidated, Grim: Yes… You’re right, they all get elided, Inchy: I reckon it’s time to die, I Wikipediaed, Grim: I’m sorry, you’re not due to snuff it yet! Inchy; Oh, how much longer then will I get, Grim: Your life should really be revered, Inchy; It’s been failures & mistakes punctuated! Grim: Yes, St Peter may get you relocated… Let you try again; that’d be splendid, Inchy; No, I want that idea permanently suspended,
Grim: You’re still depressed! I thought you’d recovered. To Be Continued… – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not a lot, but very dark.
Food Delivery.
Morning sunshine.
Afternoon.
Afternoon.
Early sunset.
I didn’t wake until 0630 hrs. The intercom chimed out as I lay there waiting for my brain to engage. It was a JS order.
The Carer arrived. Medications & finance were examined.
Carer checking details of doctor’s letter.
Computer on. I spent four hours updating errors I found in my Ode word listing. Humph!
The morning, as far as seizures, Electric Shocking Sandra and even Anne Gyna, went well. Back-Pain Brenda, Cartilage Chloe, Toothache Tiffany & the Cracked Lips Leslie made up for the lack of pains.
As the seizure kicked of, the District Matron arrived. Body check and weighing: I shan’t tell you about the massive increase in weight. But I have to say, with my legs and arms so skinny lately, the mass is from the midriff and bladder, methinks. Told Jackie about my problems with getting the Catheter Contraption bags. She will order some for me. Lovely to see a nurse now and then.
Glady Glacoma started to blur and distort my vision. I was glad I’d got the Ode list updated first.
Carer Sam arrived; I told her about the two missed calls over the holiday, not making any issues. I remember what it was like every Christmas and New Year when staff did not come in when I was a security controller. A nightmare scenario for me then and others now.
I totally lost about two hours. But I seemed to carry on with the blog, and when things cleared, I lost another hour sorting out the mistakes I’d made. It still puzzles me how this happens.
I lost the long-distance spectacles.
Although I can’t clearly recall doing an ablution, I knew I had, for I was smelling nice and in a different dressing gown and hat. And no Protection Pants, which tells me one or other, Chloe or Carol’s cartilages must have been playing up to prevent me from getting them on. Some unwarranted idea that I had taken off the glasses all that time ago made me investigate the wet room to see if I’d left them there. Another nagging semi-thought was that they are always kept in the main junk room near the TV and computer, but I had no luck finding them.
Carer Christopher arrived. Med’s given a little natter and drinkie.
I was looking forward to these beef sausages. I went to great lengths to get them cooked just how I like them; well done. Just sausages and bread, with pickle-flavoured tomato ketchup to dip them in. Oh, yes, I used the new mini oven. Funny, isn’t it? How many mini-things do I have? Mini-Seizures, a mini-cooker, a mini air cooker. Take TrZmini tablets, have a mini bank account, and an ultra mini-appendage.
I ate most of the sausages, which smelled good but did not taste very pleasant. I will not rebuy them. He says, confident that he’ll remember not to.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART ONE⅝ On my last visit to the Porcelain Throne, Bleeding from my rear bottom, I’m prone… No Carer called this morning, I was all alone, Missed taking my Beta-blocker, Betamethasone, I pondered on this while I was abluting… But had to get on with my shaving, It’s New Year’s Day, a Carer will soon be calling, It takes time to recover from over-boozing, Twitching-Neck-Ted, hurt my collarbone… I can take Codeines while all alone, But not the Beta blockers, or Prednisone, I can rub in the cream, Hydrocortisone, Phorpain & barrier cream on my private’s zone, Can’t take the Finasteride, or Atorvastatin, Omeprazole, Carers watch me taking, Yes, the Carer will soon be appearing… My Carer, who came at noon, was very caring… But this is not unusual or over-alarming, Covering holidays is difficult & frustrating, Ailments? Parts of me were pulsating & shaking, The worst is the pain near the breastbone, That’s why I took a Betamethasone, But the toothache was barely aching! Electric Shock Sheida; hardly any stinging, My vision was hampered by Gladys Glaucoma, Moving chest pains, I blame them on Anne Gyna, I had cramps, Little Inchie was bleeding, Oh, I must take my Amoxicillin!
PART TWO¾ I wondered if Starmer is still lying & cheating? Would he ever stop his backsheeshing? I heard him blaming Tories, badmouthing… He’s certainly not appealing, just appalling, After fringe benefits, influence-peddling, Schmears, kickbacks, open fiddling! Bribes, sweeteners, is anyone checking? On his hush-money & bung investing? See his expenses for number crunching? So often, the Oligarch’s been caught lying, He’s like a Tory, I’m not guessing… Pensioners & farmers will be dying… He’ll be denying blame for the bloodletting, He makes time for self-wealth searching… He is an overblown urchin! A snotbag, Grade-1. But I’m fibbing, His habit of voters & union disregarding… It will make proletariats’ life more gruelling! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART THREE⅘th I begged guidance from those in the tabernacle, Why did I fail? In things mental & physical? I once found life was easy, enjoyable, a doddle, Now, at nearly 80, there’s no one to cuddle… I was genuine and loved being charitable, PN, Arthritis, Cramps made me xenarthral, Dementia, memory, seizures are awful, Now, I find life is inexplicable, theoretical, I loved a natter, gossip or twattle… Seeing and hearing can be a battle, Daily complications with my catheter tackle, I can no longer voluntarily piddle, My aorta valve is made of plastic & metal… I feel as if I do not fit in anything tellural, Success is no longer there or accomplishable, Depressions are now giving me trouble, Around 1969, life burst my bubble… I don’t exactly walk; it is more of a hobble, I was theistical, but it is now there’s so little, Confusion, delusion, constant refusal… Lies, murders, killings, wars, tarradiddle, With Herr Killer Starmer on the fiddle! Every nation’s decisions are incomprehensible… to each other, and inscrutable, dubitable, Earth’s leaders, moraless, in a shemozzle, Oligarchs, criminals so sybaritical, I’ve become a loser and comical… Old age is the sum of a riddle! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I grafted to catch up on the blog mess after getting to bed around 0400hrs THIS morning. I got my head down for three hours and had to get up for the Carer to arrive. No Carer Arrived. Had to guess at the medications because I’ve not sorted them myself for many months. Also, I can no longer read the label instructions of the writing in the carer record book. I Pottered about not getting onto the computer because I may not have heard if the intercom went off if I had. So, I’ve had two missed calls on the trot! And had to gamble with the medications. I’ll know later if I got them wrong. Tsk!
A quickie blog from here on, as it is now 2100hrs, and I’ve to do the ablutions yet and get summat to eat. It’ll be morning again before I get to sleep. I’ll rush. It’s not been a good year up to now.
. Release valveless nocturnal pouch.
Waste bins sorted.
Reet rainin’ this mornin’.
Phor!
End car park mudslide.
No Carer arrived, which is the same as last night. Essential to get the medications right. But I could not read the labels.
Topped up the Nurses’ and carers’ treat box of nibbles. Wonder if I’ll ever see a Carer again. Hehehe!
I made a brew, then changed the clock calendar and got it on the computer to make a belated start on the blog.
I found two snaps that I took last night and forgot to put the SD card into the camera. Better late than never.
At midday, Carer Chloe arrived. I explained that the last two Carer calls were not made last night and this morning. Well, New Year Booze, Mayhap? Har-Har!
Kicked off. Thankfully, I had some pain spray for the teeth. It does ease things a bit.
Teatime views.
I’d spent a lot of time doing the odes at the top. And got little else done for hours. Carer Promise arrived. Medications given.
The legs looked better than yesterday. I’ll not mention the fungal lesion that’s being tugged at by the catheter tube bleeding. Oh, I did! Hehehe!
A better shot of Devonshire Avenue. It seems to be well-lit compared to the other roads?
Nosh-Time now. I regret to inform you that, once again, the picture taken of the cheesy potato, mushrooms and garden peas meal has done a bunk from Kodak’s SD card. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I just had to copy this one! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s so important to hang on to hope, I thought of this today when I awoke, Without him, life is all upslope, You should keep him on a tightrope, Have you ever caught a single raindrop? Shouted for help from the rooftop? Lost your thoughts while taking a troke? Caught flu, COVID, shingles or croup? Did you have a heart op or a cystoscope? Been shot, imprisoned or had amblyope? Are you deaf, neurotic or have deuteranope? A catheter fitted? Had an oesophagoscope? Your feet & ankles turned a deep heliotrope? Is it different every single time you poop? Does Peripheral Neuropathy make you quoke? If something goes right, do you glope? Do you stutter or make the odd malaprop? Do all others consider you a fruitloop? To counter these things, you need hope, You must attain it, try mentally to evoke, Hope? I’ve never met the bloke! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A cold health alert has been issued for the East Midlands, warning them that an upcoming cold spell could affect vulnerable people and cause a rise in pensioner deaths. No doubt Pensioner-killer Starmer will be tickle-pink – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It seems I’ll have to get used to every night’s sleep being broken, and the abysmal lack of rest and peace will undoubtedly see me off earlier than I expected visiting St Peter. What with our beloved PM, who robbed me of my Cold Weather Allowance? And the caregivers forgot to put my diabetic socks on again. Brrr! Still, it’ll unquestionably please the living-ready reckoner beyond the reach of any moderator, who’s a hot shot at jiggling truth and data... I mean, of course, the conspiratorial, surreptitious, duplicitous Herr Heil Starmer! Sorry about that, I got a smidgeon carried away there.
I began the battle to get out of the bed. Back-Pain-Brenda and Cartilages Chloe & Carole were unhappy being forced to move at 0500hrs. I noticed there was not much in the Ncturnal night pouch this morning. At first, I was most satisfied to see the bright colour, but when I got around to emptying it, I realised that it was one of the new ones that eBay had delivered last night. These were much cheaper than the others available but did not have a release valve. Also, the PVC, or plastic bag, was much thinner, and the urine was much darker as I cut the bag. Can’t win’em all!
I got into the kitchenette to check things; no taps had been left on, and no doors or windows were left open. I avoided going into a . The sky was fog and mist-free! That’s because the snow and ice will be brewing from Storm Darrach, bringing Red Warnings for Wind and Snow. Apparently, the lowest temperature recorded in Nottingham was −13.3 °C (8.1 °F) on 13 January 1987 and 23 January 1963. That’ll cheer up amphibologically-trained murderer Starmer. I can see it now; “200 Nottingham pensioners died in last night’s storm.” Herr backhander-taking Starmer was told, he replied, “So?”
I am so frustrated and angry! After being free of them for so long, I’d worked on this blog for nine hours off and on when the Seizures started. I was so close to finishing it when they came. I felt things were getting more manageable and more transparent, and I expected to find some errors as I seemed to have been doing it for hours while under the influence. After coming around, what I saw made me so irate and self-condemnatory! I am still stewing inside and not in a suitable mode or mood to do much! I am feeling frustrated and depressed! I could almost cry now, my temper had calmed down. Hello, it’s returning with a vengeance… I scrolled to see what cock-ups I’d made… And somehow or other, I found I’d published the blog. But even worse, I must have put it in the WP bin! Then I discovered that over 2 thirds of the work I’d done was no longer on the editor when I retrieved it. All those hours of concentration amidst seizures – Gone! It’s late and dark now. But I shall try to put some more on, but there’s no heart in it. All that work! Of course, to save space in my memory, I deleted some photographs saving space. My self-anger is building up again as I type. The sky is red, and I had to force myself to get up to take a photo; that’s not me, this isn’t me. Have I died? and am having a final nightmare? All that stuff I’d done. Some witty, some sarcastic. But it was all a little entertaining, I thought. There were many insults about Starmer – but not now. I’m even nervous to try again. Thoroughly depressed beforehand. Knowing it could happen again if the seizures or shakes return. I’m heartbroken, I think. I’m going to have to think about this. What to do?
Well, I’ve ‘thunk’.
I’ll not have time to reproduce the same quality as the old blog. I’ll probably never again produce one with the same wit and hilarity as the original. This makes it so much harder to cope with; it was a rare cracking blog. And I was so happy with it.
What the hell went wrong? I’ll not even try to get it as good… well, I can’t now in this mood, and there’s no time to try anyway. Depression is far too weak a word for how I feel at this precise moment in time. I’ll use my few notes and photos, but as I said, there is no heart in it after what I call the ‘Sodding-seizure-to-blame’ disaster. It’ll likely all be out of sync chronologically. I can’t remember the whats, whens and whys now – And I’m not all that bothered either. It could be messy.
I’ll do my bestest, but it’ll not be good.
Starting the second try… Waste bags sorted.
Carer Richard, Carer Chloe. The last two were Carer Promise.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Bloody and nearly 8500ml worth!
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Cobblers.
I just looked on CorelDraw, and I think a few original photos were on the page—I’m sure they were—but not a Bloody one! What the hell had I been doing?
Say no more…
No record to use for two more hours.
The night shots I had to force myself to take.
Carer Promise came. In a rush, but he did listen to my moaning about myself and the computer cock-ups. Thanks, Promise.
Worries about what I wrote on the first blog… It took me such a long time to select the wording, but I have no time now, so this will be, in short – a shame. I even smiled at the original moans when I wrote it.
Current concerns;
Getting the hearing aids mended.
I have to book an appointment. The Caregiver said they don’t, so it’s up to me to do it. So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone and get an appointment…
Then I have to ring Easy-Link to book a lift to and from the audio centre… So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone
If they can’t fit me in…
I have to call the audio centre to cancel the appointment and get another one made. That would be great if I could miraculously hear whoever was on the phone. Then, I’ll have to call Easy-Link again to see if they can get it for me that day—if I can miraculously hear them on the phone. Huh!
It’s a Circus – round & round I go… getting anywhere? No!
Six weeks now, I’ve still not got my hearing aids mended!
Another problem is that the nocturnal catheter pouches are not arriving. Richard told me I had to phone the District nurses.
If I can miraculously hear them on the phone.
An unexpected box arrived last week. Thanks to Dementia Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I thought the box contained the night bags.
I got down to the last night’s pouch.
Ended up spending a small fortune getting some pouches from eBay and Amazon. Luckily, Amazon arrived on Monday; eBay should arrive on Tuesday. The ones I have now do not have any release valve on them, but they were two-thirds the cost of the EBay ones. Carer Kara used to manage all these things for me; she was a blessing, not in disguise.
I had written three more problems, I think, on the first blog, but I can’t remember what they were at the moment.
Nosh! Despite my low spirits, I countered them by telling myself that whatever lousy luck I suffered, I must deserve it. I should accept these Accifauxpa & Whoopsiedangleplops without all my childish moaning and groaning, self-castigating episodes.
What you give is often what you get – despite not knowing precisely what it is, I must be guilty of it with my luck. Did you know I did the lottery for a couple of years, my neighbour, Jock, won 18 times in 1978. I never won a sausage. So, the sins I committed must have occurred before then. I lost the plot again there, sorry.
I still enjoyed this mini feast.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I met a lassie in Aberdeenshire,
She offered me a cuppa, & romance with tincture,
She was married but delightfully, an advoutrer,
We blended into one sort of amalgamator,
We mangled certain limbs in particular…
We ended up boozier and bouncier,
I hope to see her again later…
I found Aberdeenshire to be boshter! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yet another horrible night’s sleep. Forever waking up with jerk or jump, and this wrangled me last night. At 0440 hrs, I most unwillingly climbed onto the side of the hospital bed and removed the Nocturnal Night Pouch. I had given the urine a too-low rating, so I must change that on the NHS card later; Carer Chris said it was a six. I keep forgetting to change it.
I gathered the waste bin bags into one and left it near the door to take to the rubbish bin later.
Went to the kitchenette to check the tops, taps, stove, and doors.
On that short little hobble, Dizzy Dennis nearly caught me out; luckily, I’d got with me and avoided going over.
I arrived in the kitchen, I performed the safety checks. Nothing was out of place, left open, or running.
The fog outside still looked thick. But maybe a little less than yesterday’s did. I thought that his shot had an eerie aspect to it. I made a brew of 99 tea and got the computer booted up. I seemed to be doing well this morning. Only Dizzy Dennis, Cartilage Chloe, and Arthur Itis have been any bother up to now. Then, a summons ensued from my innards, warning me to urgently attend the Porcelain Throne.
A splurty, messy, smelly, and gooey dollop of excrement splodged into the ceramics. It took a while for me to get cleaned up. I mean for both the WC and me. Hehe!
I went to empty the urine from the day catheter pouch, and for the love of me, I could not get it to flow out. The thinnest, slowest, barely a trickle did flow. I tried to encourage things along. Jiggled and juggled the day bag, pulled it up, twisted it around the leg, and then lowered it… which brought on Dizzy Dennis again, and I had to give it a rest for a minute or so. I tried squeezing the transfer tube, twisting the plastic bag, and even praying, but to no avail.
I was on the computer. Something was playing up again with the text writing, and I was unsure what I’d done on Friday to prevent it from acting up again. After I pondered what I could do to correct the situation, Carer Maryham arrived.
I told her about the wee-wee being so reluctant. “Drink more water!” So I did. I also mentioned that I had only two nocturnal catheter pouches left. I didn’t think anyone would be working on a Saturday. Maryhan helped me find the telephone number for City Care on the computer, Bless Her! I was in a bit of a panic now, but I realised I’d got the days mixed up. IF… I can get through, and IF I can hear the voice on the other end on Monday, the situation may be saved… (or not); thanks, Maryham! ♥ She rushed off, taking the waste bags with her, so kind.
I kept on the computer and taking the water, but it was still a trickle at best. I went through the same procedures as before, and it didn’t get any slower, but the flow did not increase.
Drinking and blogging away, and a text message came on my super-modern mobile Nokia phone. A message told me my food order would arrive today within two hours. That will be the food order I’d just told Maryham was due next Tuesday… I assume. Erm?
CorelDraw was playing up now! About an hour later, during which I got nothing achieved on the blog, the intercom chimed in. I was the food order arriving. The driver placed them in the mini-hallway for me, I thanked him, and he asked if I was over 21. I said I’ve not ordered any alcohol, only soft drinks and water? We both laughed, which was nice! Four bags worth. I carried them one by one into the kitchenette. I seem to have treated myself to more fish balls, fishcakes and fish fingers, too! Oh, and a bag of potato croquettes. I got the frozen put away first. Once again, I had to take the fish balls out of both boxes and jiggle with the food in the freezer to get them in. It also took a bit of planning to get things in the fridge—not that I had a lot of stuff. I can’t recall ordering some of the items, but I did no fear dying from hunger.
That must be heartbreaking news for Pensioner killer Sir Keir Rodney Starmer. Rodney, as Del used to say… “You Plonker Rodney!” In the fictitious Trotter family. Har-har-har!
Afternoon Carer Joanne came, and she was very welcome. I showed her the photo of the last pouch emptying. Can you see the fluff-looking clump that came out after I rejiggled the bag and tube again? I expected the flow to be freer on the next emptying, but no! The flow is still about the width of the darning-needle-eye… at best! I have to bend to encourage it, which merely invites the attention of and has joined in the assault! Joanne is having trouble with her catheter, so we have that in common and things were not going right for either of us.
We shared a chunter. Hahaha!
I was not getting on well with the blog. After Joanne departed, I sulked a little and returned to the computer. I found some of the same types of
They were expensive but had no drainage pipe fitted and were half the price of the others. I ordered some, but they will not arrive before Tuesday, so I’ll not be able to wait until then. All the more important thing is to get in touch with City Care – Option Three on Monday. There may not be a blog on Monday cause I shall keep on trying to get through, and if they say you are the 19th customer in the queue, I’ll stay online and wait. Although knowing my luck, I’ll fall asleep or have a seizure and not recall what I was ringing for! I feel a depression coming on!
I had another go at the blogging. And the landline chirped! It was a lady from the Social Services. The line was terrible. This reminded me that the hearing aids still need sorting out, repaired, and mended. And how do I get a lift there and back? Anyway, she asked if I had time for a Q&A session. I hadn’t really got the time. But this rare, almost unheard-of opportunity to tell someone my problems could not be missed. It was hard work, and the lady shouted some questions after I’d asked her to repeat herself a few times. I mentioned the problems with the ablutions, the hearing aids getting repaired, shopping, the bank, etc. Of course, when she rang off, I thought of so many other things I struggle to get done, but it’s too late now.
She kindly said she would ring me back to update me on any plans made or altered. ♥
I got some potatoes in the slow cooker. Hopefully, I can have it later with cheese. But we’ll see, it’s getting late now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the crushed cream cakes delivered earlier. Most dissapointing. It looked like finger marks on the icing and cream. The cream had left the bread altogether. Maybe not so bad. I’m going to chew them up anyway. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel!
I went into the kitchen to see how the potatoes were coming along, and the fog was gone—there was just a light mist in the air! So, I took a left, centre and right shots of the view. The Carer may arrive soon. I’ll now go and get the oven warming up and try to get the cheese into the flesh of the potatoes. I’ve not had any of these for months now. Lack of injuries permitting, of course. Or seizures, tumbles, falls, walking into things… take your pick.
Chris made his last call around 0920hrs. The lad was rushing to go home, and he looked all in. However, he kept his chirpiness up and made sure Chris took the diabetic socks off, and he attached the next-to-last nocturnal catheter pouch we had. Gave the cream cake treats, and off he poddled. A nice lad.
Nosh started. Cheesy potatoes, fish balls, and garden peas.
Nothing else was needed!
This was the first proper cheesy potato dish I’ve made since the old oven conked out. I used the new mini-cooker, which was great because it was on top of the old cooker. I could check the crisping colouring at eye level as it cooked to ensure it was spot-on. I so enjoyed this one. It was worth all the time, bother and cleaning up afterwards! Great!
The cod balls I did in the air-fryer. I’ve not yet mastered this air fryer. But I’m slowly getting better.
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