– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I think there must be someone high up there, Who decided who would or would not have hair, A sort of overlord, Tsar or Universal Emporer, Who decided what would be unfair or fair… Created humankind, including Pol Pot & Hitler, Mugabe, Stalin, Putin, so many experts in tyranny, Giving his creations free will was undoubtedly silly. National leaders full of thimbleriggery, Thus, we have wars, dictators and seigniory, Nations ruled discretely by the oligarchy, Dominated in the name of greed, sinfully, I see the end of Earthlings… undoubtedly, Did he/she mean to create humankind’s ubiquity? Was he/she mistaken in giving us free will? Maybe! Why bother at all? Was it experimentally? A challenge from the boss of the next galaxy? Was Earth ever meant to be cruelly umpty? Should it have been mankind-free? If accurate, Adam & Eve are the ones guilty! I was going to muse over Starmer, you see… But I’ve got to go for another urinoscopy,
Not that I’ll ever again manually pee!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind. Going to be a cut-short version.
Morning views.
Ablutions carried out. 3 tiny cuts shaving. Little Inchie fungal lesion bleeding. Shaking Shoulder Shirley throughout the session. Porcelain Throne painful, bloody and yet messy as well? Beats me!
08:45: The caregiver arrived. He had been delayed somewhere and was in a rush to catch up. I forgot to ask him to put on the diabetic socks for me. I’m blooming cold! Hehe!
Computer on. Update from Windows, update from WordPress and update from CorelDraw.
The browser froze again.
I still hadn’t got the browser available. Carer Joanne did the midday call. (I gave her a gentle hug and a kiss) Joanne put on the new socks for me—bless her. THe hospital kept her in on her visit. The test showed various levels tested for to be too high or low. (Catheter-needing problems, so painful). Gladly, she is out again, obviously. Super news! XXX
I’m assuming here cause the timings etc., could well be all too cocked up, as I spent so long getting the computer to restart and work, I did not make any notes on the reminder pad.
Took these close-ups of the local residences.
The Browser played up again, and an update took a long time. So, I took some more Kodak photos.
The DVT Nurse Hristina rang. I think she said that she would be calling on Monday around 08:00hrs. The reason for my uncertainty is that a mammoth seizure, the longest I’ve ever had, came over me after I put the phone down.
When things clicked back in with me, I’d been working on the computer and making a hash of it. It took me hours to make things right. Then when I went on CorelDraw, I found I’d done the same there. I’d also saved some photos, not many, but they were saved all over the place, and again, a lot of time was lost searching for them to use, as the computer had stopped allowing me to save again. That needed me to use the Ccleaner; by the time I got the long-winded procedure over with, I’d forgotten where I was before! Depressions Dawned!
These seizures are a fantastic thing to understand. They can come on for seconds without me even realising, or like this one did, for hours. I merrily press on, no idea what I’m doing or have done. A sort of… erm, I’m not sure how to describe it.
If the telephone rings, the door chimes, or anyone comes in the room, I’m instantly back in the running, aware, almost alert. But this is often reversed when I find the things I’d been doing that I’d forgotten about. One such instance today was when Chris left after the evening call. I found a paper dish with crumbs in it, and it was warm on the side of the sink. I must have heated it up in the microwave and eaten it; no food was in the bin. This morning, I realised the cornish pastie was not in the fridge… it must have been in my tummy? Hahaha!
This may be why I often go to the fridge to get something and find it is not there? Worralife!
I assume it could be linked to or spurred on by FND. Neuropathic Myoclonus: (sudden, brief involuntary twitching or jerking of a muscle or group of muscles. The twitching cannot be stopped or controlled by the person experiencing it.
All these are linked to Peripheral Neuropathy, which itself is caused by one’s Neurotransmitter’s dying. This causes problems for the brain to read the messages being sent to it, and often, the brain gets confused and responds with the wrong responses.
It’s challenging to master cooking in a microwave.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’S POLITICAL ODE HMG stuttering and Starmering,
Bad manners seem to be amplifying, Murders, knifings, people dying, Pensioners, children, starving, HMG is uncaring, but angering, Involved with lying backhanding, No chance of the gloom alleviating, They’ve done nowt worth applauding, Their compassion needs reactivating, HMG’s good at pensioner annihilating, Accepting freebies, their wallets filling, If Nye Bevan is looking down from heaven, He was Labour’s best; what’s he thinking? Of new Labour’s cabinet bickering? Of their huffing, lying, cheating? Most of them have bank balances bulging, The Tories, after their election thwacking, Not admitting the defeat was embarrassing? With Labour split and arguing, The future for the UK is spine-chilling.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I only got 4 – in 20 minutes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This blog was not started until late last night.
More power failures. Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, perhaps the busiest day of the week… so far. The mini-seizures came in floods that lasted from a minute to fifteen. With a decent break in between. Of course, the power cuts lost me work done each time. And the biggest cock-up was my fault.
After a power cut and signing in everywhere again, I was getting caught up again and had this idea to remove some of the bookmarks I no longer use so that more of what I use can be seen. Ahem! I lost the lot! Try as I did, I could not get them back. I searched for how to make a restore point; that was before I made the cock-up. It seemed relatively followable, even for a Dumbo like me. It wasn’t!
A) Op[en Control Panel – So I did.
B) Open Recovery
C) Open System Restore. – So I did.
D) Select Next – So I did.
E) Choose Restore Point. – So I did.
Then another window opened, telling me I didn’t have a restore point to change!
F) Scan for affected programmes.
No idea what that would do, so I started the procedure again.
A) Open Control Panel – So I did.
B) Open Recovery
C) Open System Restore. – So I did.
D) Select Next – So I did.
E) Choose Restore Point. – So I did.
Then another window opened, telling me I didn’t have a restore point to change!
F) Scan for affected programmes.
So I never got as far as the other instructions, which were.
G) Choose restore point – It wouldn’t let me.
H) Select finish – It wouldn’t let me.
I) Click ‘Yes’ to restart.
I suppose my being digitally illiterate, non-tech-savvy, technologically challenged, Technology-averse, computer-inept, thick as two planks, technophobic, electronically apprehensive, and Glaucoma Gladys may have contributed to the resulting frailness of my attempted solving of the issue.
I put the ones I could remember on the bar, one at a time. It cost me two hours! So bear with me; I might get this done for you by Christmas. Hahaha! Still, in the morning (this morning), the computer allowed me to upload a greater percentage of photos and graphics onto WordPress until the Computer… well, the browser crashed!
Such a lot happened, but it’s all a jumble. Still, I did write some barely readable scribbled notes on the memory pad to use, but I’ll have to be quick. Please forgive any errors… well, I mean the errors. Although they didn’t all get on, photos can help me chronologically.
Had I known or even had an inkling of how the day would go, I’d not have bothered getting up in the first place!
As I write this on October 1st, I wonder what happened in history on this date. I’ll have a look.
Today in History
1993 Maastricht Treaty came into force. That created a common currency, the Euro, for European Union countries came into force
1955 United Airlines Flight 629 blows up over Colorado; A bomb hidden in checked luggage of United Airlines Flight 629 exploded over Longmont, Colorado, killing all 44 people on board.
1952: The first giant hydrogen bomb was tested by the U.S. On the Eniwetrok atoll.
1911 First bomb dropped from an aircraft: Before this, bombs were dropped using unmanned balloons. The first bomb launched from an aeroplane was used by the Italians in the Italo-Turkish War.
1957: Inchy got his first part-time job. As a gas streetlamp lighter & snuffer.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The nocturnal bag was removed and emptied.
The first sky photos were taken at about 05:00hrs.
Constipation Conrad was clearly clinging to control of the evacuation… well, non-evacuation! Several false alarms throughout the busy day. Finally, I had a passing, but not until 23:00hrs!
Got the stand-up wash & shave done (3 teeny-weeny cuts). Carer Christopher came calling. I asked him to show me how to reset the power box, as I was sure I’d need to.
Jenny called to see if I’d had any more power losses. I told her about last night’s. She will speak to the Wardens about it. Window Cleaner Joe arrived, flashed through the job, and was off. He’s a good lad, and he likes lighting and cleaning windows. You’d be lost without him doing it.
I finally got on the computer, but not for long. The electricity gave up the ghost one more time. I rang Jenny, who again called Deana. I went hopefully to the wet room, and there was no activity again.
ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, Primo Ballerina, Deana, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie came in. They got the lights back on and investigated the cause of the failures, asking me to recall exactly what I was doing each time the electricity went off. Did they really expect me… Me, to remember? Hehe!
They deemed that the kettle was the bother, and Deana got the new kettle off of the top cupboard for me, took it out of the box, and tried boiling some water. There was no cut-outs. Thus they thought the problem was solved. It was the old kettle causing the blackouts. Later in the day, at about the same time as it did yesterday, at about 19:00hrs, I think, I turned on the hob… total darkness dawned! But no problem as I anticipated this, and I had the mobile phone and wind-up torch in my dressing gown pockets.
(Smug-Mode-Considered).
I phoned Jenny to let her know, but I didn’t want her to come up again. I put Christopher (on his evening call) on the mobile, as Jenny wanted to speak to him.
Jenny is so good to me. ♥
The photos and graphics were saved again. Yehaa!
This one I took earlier. Two of the three pairs of slippers I have. Excessive, you think? Not for an old fart with a that gets more leaks than a leek farmer! I reckon the slippers (left-foot ones) have been filled with leaking urine from the dodgy closure click so many times; it’s becoming almost expected nowadays. The shaggy brown ones once, the Tartan ones three times, and the ribbed brown ones twice! Do you think the Doctor will give me a prescription for some new ones?
Am I Lucky or What? I checked on the delivery of the steel cleaning cloths. I bought them to clean the cooker hob that had been messed up when I left a pan on the light and fell asleep. Of course, there was no rush for them now, as a new cooker would be needed and the old one would be too dangerous to use. No oven chips, roast potatoes, cheesy baked potatoes, Chilli, or bacon… I’m upsetting myself now. Just the microwave to use. Not enough room to fill the holes in my teeth, let alone make a meal! Not the same, is it? Depressed? Me? What? Yes!
.
I gave up on the computer. Heaven knows when I’ll finish this blog, let alone start tomorrow! I lurked around the hallway and opened the wet room door to hear the anticipated intercom when the delivery driver pressed the bell to open the door. But it didn’t happen.
I booted the computer again to check the Amazon site. It told me my parcel had been delivered and put through my letterbox! I went to the door to investigate. Nope, nothing there. I thought they may have dropped it in the lobby, which frequently happens. I went down to the front lobby but could not see anything there. I could go through the door into the outer lobby, as I had not got the keys and fob to get back in. But I could not see any parcels outside; it was pitch black anyway, so if the van was there or not, I didn’t know.
I returned to the twelfth floor and into the flat and tried to contact Amazon. Have you ever had to do that?
There’s more chance of Killer Starmer giving back the Winter Fuel Payment he stole from the pensioners than of getting through to talk to someone at Amazon. I made good progress despite not getting through all the way. I got to someone called something like a delivery organiser and clicked on a link to go to a supply organiser. Another link clicked to someone else, and I got a message back. If the problem has not been resolved within 24 hours, you can contact us again. Huh, Thanks!
I was digesting this cunning message and admiring how cleverly they avoided anyone voicing opposition to Amazon’s inability to control things. Then the door chime chimed out. I thought this might be the delivery!
It was, being delivered to me by another tenant, who had got the same messages about his parcel, and of course, there was nothing in his letterbox either. He’d been down to the lobby and found his and my parcels in the unprotected outer lobby! And he’d kindly bring them up and drop mine off for me. We were disgusted and showed our feelings about Amazon, which included a few mild verbal rantings.
Depressed? Me? What? Yes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Ah, I missed the changed cake! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I made the very belated meal using the microwave.
A ready-made meal. Beef in black bean sauce. I added some extra-cooked beef, red onions, more black bean sauce from a jar, oregano, and liquid smoke. I mixed it up in the only microwave bowl I had and cooked it for six minutes on the high-level rating. Delish!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Depressed? Me? What? Yes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I don’t want anyone to think I’m jealous of their wealth & power. Or that could gladly assassinate the pensioner-killer Starmer for his heartless crippling and murdering pensioners by taking away their winter fuel allowance. Or his lying by omission to get elected. Or, his taking back-handers worth hundreds of thousands of pounds. His bland, conceited, self-wealth improving, voter-contempt, but I am.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After yet another night of jumping awake, at 05:00, I gave up trying for the elusive sleep, and I gingerly removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, grabbed a hold of and off to the kitchen for safety checks and got the kettle on. The taps, cooker and fridge looked okay, and I had what must have been one of the longest-ever bubbly-sounding passings of wind that I can ever remember. It was pongy and two-tone at times! I diverted to the wet room without any delay.
I got seated, but nothing more than wind came out for ages. Once the motion began, I thought that would never end!
It was like wet mud to look at in the bowl. This time, it was three-coloured: black spots with light and dark brown.
Cleaning it up took me years. I managed to knock over, and he fell against the floor cabinet. I then had one less bottle of the Glaucoma Latanoprost eye drops; the cap shot off.
MAYHEM – POWER CUTS At this stage of writing this, I had a power cut! I lost all my notes and reminders, but I did get some photos, and such mayhem and panic have not hit me so badly in ages.
I was stuck in total darkness; it was late evening then.
The notes from earlier in the day were found, but not the late ones that were on Word, which got lost in a total of four Poer-Cuts suffered over a three-hour period.
Obviously, I could not do any blogging or emailing anything on the computer until Thursday morning. (Now)
POWER-CUT DISASTER STORIES
1️⃣ I was cooking the meal. Sudden darkness, absolute darkness. Panic gripped me. I searched for the mobile and wind-up torch. At that time, I could not find the torch. So, had to use the light of the mobile to get around. My intention was to make sure the cooker had been turned off. Then I realised that things were worse than I thought. The battery on the mobile was weakening, and I needed it to call for help because the Alarm Alert line & landlines were not working. I rang the preciously kind Jenny to ask for advice on getting help. I didn’t know the numbers to ring. Jenny, being Jenny, bless her, said she would come up to have a look. She’d just got out of the shower. I felt embarrassed.
2️⃣ Jenny came in; I didn’t hear her, and she did something on the power box, and the power came back on. I told her what I was doing, and she spoke with someone on the back-on-line emergency alert line again. She turned off the cooker at the box. Told me not to use it until it’s been checked over. She
said, ‘I’m was to ring her in ten minutes to update her on the situation’. I’d be lost without Jenny.
3️⃣ Ten minutes later, the power went off again. This time, I was again in the kitchen, and as it was dark, I turned to get the stick, tripped on something, and fell, hitting my face on the radiator. Jenny returned again. She reset the power and asked if I’d used the cooker, which I hadn’t. The power was now restored by Jenny, and the telephones & alarm came back on. Jenny spoke with them again. Jenny reminded me not to use the cooker, but I could use the microwave.
4️⃣ I started to sort out a different meal that could be cooked in the microwave, and the Power died again! Jenny came to the rescue once more! She restored the power supply yet again and told me she would report things to the authorities for me in the morning. If it does go off again, I was to ring her. Reminding me not to use the kettle or cooker.
Thankfully, the power stayed on, and I finished the oddly cooked beef in black bean sauce. Cleaned up the kitchen and settled to eat the meal, watching ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. Thinking about how things would have gone without Jenny’s help. Precious, inestimable, & helpful. ♥
The following may be out of order, with part of the reminders lost in the power cuts, but these things did occur. I think.
Carers Shaquille, Israel & Kimberly called. Kimberly helped me get an appointment with the doctor and the Chemist for the flu jab sorted for me. Flu Tuesday 5th Nov, and the RSC at the surgery Monday 11th Nov, in Carrington.
Yesterday, during the power failures, I lost every photograph I had previously taken and saved to file. Arghh!
And also, I can’t use my cooker or kettle,
I still can’t manually pittle,
Electric shocks up my leg, still tingle,
The catheter tube is so painful!
My lack of sleep is diabolical,
My memory gets more fragmental,
Waiting for Glaucoma lasering at the Hospital,
Life is no longer worth being experimental,
The hot tap runs at barely a trickle,
Plans, wants & needs are theoretical,
Thoughts, hopes are unphilosophical,
Like this ode, there are unpoetical,
I’m verging on becoming pathetical,
My dreams are all sarcophagal,
Getting on my rear-end a carbuncle!
My concentration, once congenital,
It is now non-existent, gone, choplogical,
Depressions, fears, worries, self-inimical,
Mentally, life is a scramble, a scrattle…
With myself, every day, I battle,
I once socialised, now I feel extrinsical.
Life’s become eristical & demagogical!
Now, with cock-up, & outages electrical,
No kettle or stove, it ruins things gastronomical, I need someone clever, kind, & intellectual… A Doctor who deals with things lunatical? To read this Poesy or Limerick, About me being physically & mentally sick, Use their skills of the neuropsychologic, They may advise summat neuroradiologic? Issue medications that may do the trick, With mayhap periwinkle & phenobarbital, Or operate on my sincipital? If it was all a film, it would be tragicomical, But, primarily pointless and illogical!.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – That Starmer gave me back the money he’d stole, To pay for, to fill in the Tories black hole, Proving he’s a greedy, uncaring arsehole,
He eats pheasant & bison; for me, a rissole! I went to get my Omeprazole, To get them down my food whole, In the box, £20 notes, quadruple! Had Keir decided to repay me? Mayhap he felt a smidgen guilty? No, that can’t be; he has no pity… I had a surge in my memory, I put them in the box for an emergency. That was back around 1973… They don’t look like the new ones, see! Would they be any good to me? A man who cannot manually wee… Who’s on his way to going potty! I planned his ode; now it’s plot-free! Gone into the ether – Oh, dearie me! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I took another pasting from the computer today. I spent more time cleaning, closing, and rebooting it than using it! It still refuses to save some snaps and graphics, whatever I do. Now, when it refuses to save, it takes off many photos I was trying to save with an old name and refuses to save anything with a new number or name. I was using it from the previous time. I can’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into with it! Grumph, Gnash & Gnangles!
Up late today, 06:35hrs. Took off the nocturnal catheter bag while I was still on the bed. A better colour, though. Carer Chris classed it as a four.
I went to do the safety checks in the wet room and kitchenette. The view was clear after so much fog that I snapped it. Later, the fog fell, but the computer stoically refused to save the photo of the fog to go on WordPress. I tried saving another one with a new name, but that was impossible all day! (Up to now, 15:00hrs.) Grrr!
I decided I might just get the ablutions done before the first Caregiver arrived, but I dared not use the shower, as it was still a bit early and may disturb the other tenants. Before I could get the things ready, Caregiver Christopher arrived. Chris sorted the medications, got a telephone call and went to the balcony to answer it. Cor, the cold blew up my legs and my not-underpanted lower regions. Brr! Hehehe! I nearly asked him to put the diabetic socks on but decided against it, as I intended to get back to doing the ablutions. Chris said he would call back later and put them on for me.
It all went flowingly with the stand-up wash and shaving. Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving. No teeth or gums bleeding. And I seemed to get a crack on with it and sing to myself, too! Yes! As I recall, Elvis, Billy Fury, Rick Nelson, and Adam Faith songs—well, the words as best I could remember of them. However, the evacuation on my Porcelain Thrones was again a super-messy affair. It was still a three-tone colourisation as it had been for the last three days. Blacks, dark browns and yellows. Even the cleaning up seemed to take less time this morning. I feared I may break out in a feeling of semi-contentment.
I spent hours and hours getting not very far with the blog. Updating yesterday went smoothly, and the computer let me save the two belated graphics I needed.
I was worried about that!. That was the limit of its compassion! I got fed up with taking shots of the fog and being unable to use them, so not many new photos made it to Inchy Today.
The ode for today was just not flowing, so I added a bit of humour to it. Strewth, Christopher’s midday call arrived as if I’d just blinked from when he came earlier. The lad got the painkillers given to me and put on the thicker, longer diabetic socks for me. Ah, that’s warmer now! I was going to take a photo of the socks to show you how thick and long they are, but my confidence from earlier had been shattered.
I took another snap of the misty view. Then I cut up and seasoned the potatoes and put them in an oven tray, ready for when the oven heated up enough.
Then, I tried again to get these two photos, this time on CorelDraw and into this blog. It took a few tries, and I had to save somewhere else. I couldn’t remember for ages where I’d saved them, but I did get them on belatedly. Then it let me save the snap of Caregiver Christopher. When he was on the balcony on his phone, I could not hear what was being said. Cunning and bothering!
I took this one earlier, and this time, it was saved!
Computers (well, this one certainly is) are one of the banes of my life!
This is a mystery photo. Obviously, it was taken in error. I assume I don’t know what, where, or why I took it. Is it unlikely that some clever person reading this can trigger my mind?
Ah, the potatoes can go in the oven now. I’ve got 35 minutes to get the computer cleaned.
Incidentally… CorelDraw Did Not Crash today! There’s a first over the last 4 days. This worries about what it will do tomorrow!
I ate more biscuits today than I ever have before. I blame the hassle of the computer getting at me more and more! I think my gobbling all those cookies (naughty, I know) ruined the taste of the meal. It looked and smelt good, but it tasted the same as the cookies. Hehe!
Carer Chris did the last visit for me. Painkillers were issued, the diabetic socks removed, and off he trotted on his way back to his wife and son, Gideon.
It was another horrible night. I woke up in pain so often that I gave up and got up around 04:10hrs. I needed the Porcelain Throne urgently. Only just made it in time! I wonder if the meal was out of date?
I woke at about 06:24,
Little Inchie was still sore.
Urine colour a number four,
WC is needed; that’s for sure…
On the Throne, liquid did pour…
A messier mess; upon the floor,
And my belly looked ampler!
Bother from Toothache Tiffany,
Cartilage pain in each knee,
Took a photo, & made the tea,
Spilt the milk, dearie me!
Minutes late back on the WC!
Hit my shoulder on the door frame – I gave it an apology!
Inadequate responses from my memory,
My perception was not at its keenest,
The computer was at its absurdest…
Whatever I tried, attempted or pressed,
The damned machine soon got me so depressed,
I didn’t know what to do for the best…
I repeatedly tried Norton and the Ccleaners,
Run them, close all down, restart… no go, oh, bejesus!
The analyser failed and worsened my ailments & derivatives,
Launching moments of non-stop depression,
Spent little time creating and more on correcting,
But mostly, I spent more time failing…
No point in photographing or graphicalising,
I spent ages preparing and hoping…
On creating this so far, pictureless blogging!
No confidence; I feel like a circumforanean…
I swear I’m cursed with and by a cacodemon!
Carer Christopher issued the morning medication,
I didn’t sulk, but it was a temptation,
Today’s confusion, indecision, & apprehension,
Indicated that insanity was a possible option!
Life’s a hotchpotch, thought, a motley collection,
Most of my ideas seem to have no connection…
I’m still up for socialising and adoption,
It’s from Doreen Dementia that I need protection!
Carers Chloe & Kara came calling,
Kara explained to Chloe my financialisationing,
So next week, Chloe can sort out the banking,
All done in ten minutes, amazing!
Of course, I’ll not be remembering!
I had another go at grapicalisationing,
Tried to save it for WordPressing,
But not all of the photographing,
Gawd’s truth, some went in!
Those above, I tried to save more, praying…
But CorelDraw started crashing!
I turned it all off, restarted it, again got it going,
But the bloody pictures were again not saving!
Two hours to again use Norton and Ccleaning!
I took two shots from the kitchen window,
The clouds were so beautiful and low, To the left and right, in auto,
Earlier ones I’d taken still would not go,
Into the file or WordPress, though!
I swore a bit in Fortissimo!
MEAL MADE Royal Anya potatoes & chicken,
Beetroot, tomatoes, not forgetting…
Yoghourt, a tasty curd, lemon!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ‘Now look mush’, I uttered… I know when my bread’s buttered, No wonder I can see only the one gate, Because it was hell on earth, mate! Born to poverty, what a state! Miserable, I died broke & intestate! Bad eyesight, cancer pancreate. Catheter, Peripheral neuropathy,
Mental & physical inadequacy,
Got shot twice, the leg and chest, Born with nothing, I’ve got most of it left!
I grew floppy, womanlike breasts,
No help at my begging or behest!
Ended up losing loves like Audrey…
Grizelda, Marie, Christine & Suzie, Am I pissed off? Absobloodylutely!
Send me back again? There’ll be some argie-bargie! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’d fallen asleep in the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. The broken, ever-wakening sleep was no worse or better than struggling to get in and out of bed. I must have had ten bad nights on the trot now. Talking of trot, my first aim of the day was to get to the Porcelain Throne ASAP. The rumbling and grumbling started as I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Trotsky Terence won the battle, as he had for eleven days now, but Constipation Conrad was trying a counterattack, and there were some small globules and lumps in the basin. Once again, all the evacuated varieties are composed of almost black and light brown/karki. It was colourful, almost, but messy. I had a body scrub and medicated the areas in need. I didn’t shave, but I may brave it to have one later.
I’d not noticed what the time was when I woke, but after the wet room session, I went to the kitchen to check the taps, etc. and took a photo of the dark, foggy view that was on offer from the kitchen window. , I knocked the clock mentioned above off of the window ledge. Then I got out the last of the four clocks I bought last year, put a battery in, and set the time right. 04:55hrs.
I got the computer on and soon regretted doing so. Over the next six hours, I went through torment, botherations, mood swings, and frustrations and ended up in a deep depression. CorelDraw crashed three times! CCleaner failed to enable me to upload photos, so I tried it with the Norton cleaner and had the same results. Zilch success!
During these hours, Carer Shaquille called. Then Carer Kimberley had to do the financial help, which she couldn’t because no one had shown her how, and I didn’t know. I had the joy of Carer Kara doing it all for me for months. But learnt nothing, or couldn’t remember, how to get through to the bank on the website; none of the passwords or numbers were safe in Kara’s mind. She has been moved into the carer’s office. I had to close everything down five times! My failings and inabilities made me feel even worse.
As it got lighter, amidst the computer problems, I gave up on the computer and turned everything off. I made myself a brew of Glengettie tea and ate four large cookies in dunking mode. I took six photographs as I went to wash the mug. Amazingly, the computer let me save the first two. But the other four, which had caught some seagulls flying on them, were not getting saved for some reason. The old photos I was saving had disappeared! I tried renaming the old images first, but that didn’t work either. They still went off into the ether. Saving was difficult enough before this happened! Grrr! I can’t take much more of this.
Yet earlier, when updating yesterday’s blog, it sent everything. I know there were only 4 snaps and graphics, but it seems terribly hit-and-miss since then. More miss that hit!
I got a comment from cyber-mate Tim about me trying a Tablet to solve the computer issues. I felt like a fool, not knowing what one was. Another message with links to suitable types of Tablets on Amazon. I tried them and got this message.
This is a very long-winded bit. Skip it if you like. Again! In the afternoon, after Carer Kimberly had been. She’s going to do her best to get me some help. I was going back on the computer after her visit and heard something drop that obviously I’d knocked off of the end of the c1962 Hopwells sideboard, with the hanging off doors and unclosable drawers; it took me a while to discover that it was my mobile phone. I searched everywhere, looking for it, without finding it, so I assumed it was that it fell. I moved things, boxes, books, etc., searching for it. The only place I’d not looked was underneath the sideboard. I had to search for my wind-up torch, and more time was lost! I could not bend down too far, fearing that Dizzy Dennis would have on my knees. But the frustration of not knowing where it had got to, if it was the phone that made the clunking noise and not something else, meant I’d lost the mobile. I’m making hard work of this for you. Sorry! I bent down a smidge too low with the torch search and lost my balance. Banged down on the knees, which was probably the least damaging fall ever… but one of the most painful, worse than the head wound one. Arthur Itis in the knees, the Cartilage Sister Carol and Chloe really hurt… then I felt even more pain from poor Little Inchie, as the Catheter tubing yanked at him when I tried to move as I tried to get to the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, to attempt to haul myself up.
I then realised I could have used my 1982-model newly found mobile to call for help. The thought of pressing the alarm wristlet button never came into my mind—what a clot!
Then it dawned on me that I didn’t know any numbers!
Aha! I spotted the new landline where Carer Kara had put Meridian Care, Warden Deana, and Sister Janes’ auto numbers for me. I pressed the preset bottom and got ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. Who kindly said she would get some help and come up. ♥
As I waited, I did my best to get my elephantine wobbly body back up on its plates. (Slang for plates-of-meat), Feet!)
But there was little chance that I could, and I couldn’t!
Minutes later, the rescuers arrived. I was in a praying position on my painful knees. They took an arm each from the back and hauled me up. They were here for about two minutes, did a grand job and rushed off. Both were busy ladies. Thank you! ♥
Carer Israel arrived for the teatime medications.
I was telling him of my Whoopsiefauxpas but stopped when I realised he was writing on his log.
Then back on blog catchup.
Then, on the WordPress Reader.
I was serving the meal and took a shot of the late-evening view from the kitchenette window.
Can you see the ghostlike child in the clouds? Or dog?
The computer let me save these last two photos to WordPress in the morning!
Doesn’t it look horrible?
The Parmentier potatoes were baked in the oven, along with a pot of Polish pork knuckle meat, Milk Roll bread, and tons of strong Branston sauce.
I agree that the meat looks sickeningly repugnant. But the taste, especially the pork jelly, was lovely!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 05:45hrs: I woke up after a much better night’s sleep.
I took off and pictured the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was lighter-coloured for once, but not a lot of it.
I sat on the bed, and a deep thought overcame me. When it had finished, I made the bed… well, straightened it a bit. Then I went into the kitchen to ensure I’d not left the taps (faucets) running, the oven on, or the fridge doors open. I’d left a mess, but there was nothing untoward on the safety checks to report. I realised I’d forgotten to take the urine pouch with me, and I returned to the big room to collect it. Could I find it? Nope! I recall photoing it on the overbed table, but it was nowhere to be seen. I risked bending down to look under the bed, Nope! Under the Carers table. Nope! Thought I may have taken it with me and put it down somewhere in the kitchen, so I hobbled back to take another look. Nope!
Have I already been to the wet room to empty it? I poddled to the WC room to check. Nope! I felt a little nonplussed. It will undoubtedly turn up when I’m not looking for it. If this takes some time, the urine’s aroma or pong from the pouch should help my nose to locate it.
I’m off to the wet room on a dual mission.
Now, that was a different evacuation than most of them. Two-tone, distinctly brown and black, in what looked like cube-shaped mini-rugby balls (about eight) that plopped out simultaneously… followed by a mini-torrent of almost liquid jelly. The word I’m looking for is, Gooey! But no Whoopsiedangles today, just that I had to spend so long cleaning.
Did the teggies, and then I nervously tackled having a shave. Making absolutely sure I did not use the razors anywhere near the mystery wound on the back of my head. It went well. Two new shaving nicks, for they were hardly worth mentioning; a splash of the Brute soon stopped their flow. I managed a mini-, which was quickly followed by another. I suddenly became nervous as I thought I might have left the tap running in the kitchen. This thought seemed possible, as the hot water I used to shave was not as hot as usual. Stark naked, catheter bag hanging loose, I had to hasten to the kitchen to make sure… and I shoulder-charged the door frame in my rush, thus setting off . I got in the kitchen to find the hot water tap running, thankfully only slowly. As I almost lunged at the tap to turn it off, I against the corner of the trolley. I merely laughed these Accifauxpas off. No swearing or getting upset about things whatsoever. Things worsened when I returned to the wet room to shave. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my nose, lower face, chin, throat, and under my left eye were an odd reddy-blue colour! The Carer took a snap of it for me as she arrived, at the same time as the food order came. A bit of a hectic start to the day. Haha!
Carer Sham got the medications. She put on my diabetic socks—put them on my legs, I mean. She then helped me get the food into the kitchen and put it away. Bless her! As Sham did the paperwork, I asked if she could see the marks on my face. The delivery driver gave me an odd look; I thought he must have seen the state on my face. Sham did, but it had almost left when I looked in the mirror. It almost needed a magnifying glass to still see it.
Sainsbury’s sent two loaves of Milk Roll bread, and both had a sell-by 22nd Oct date.
Carer Sam arrived. She could not see any blotches on my face at all, either. Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Not that it matters; there were no pains, aches or itches with the facial globules. I suppose it may be a different form of the Excema or Acne?
The seizures had an hour or two with me. I think they varied from a few seconds to one that lasted about 15 minutes, as best I can estimate.
I was doing the second of the Ccleaner runs, and after this one, the computer let me get just one of the photos that had been refused earlier onto the blog. It was, I think, the third one I took this morning from the kitchen window. Not very good, but I like to show the dozens of my failed photos along with the odd one that comes out right. Hahaha!
Late afternoon, and I took these two snaps of the wonderful bubbly clouds.
In the first one, I can see a hand being held out to the left. It could be an animal’s head, an eel or a snake, maybe?
The second, taken to the left of the kitchen window, contained a feast of figures to be found.
Then the computer got sulky, and no more photos or graphics could be saved!
I was so tired and fed up, I turned off the computer and took two more evening sky shots. Hopefully, after more monotonous Ccleaning in the morning, these and the later ones can be saved, and I can add them then, hopefully with the snap of the terrible ready-made meal.
Carer Chris made the last two calls, but the lad seemed a little uptight. I’ll see and ask how he is at the morning call.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Wednesday Morning
I cleaned with Ccleaner and saved most of the snaps I could not yesterday. So, here they are belatedly.
The end of Citrus Walk, beyond the car park. This is where the old garages used to be; each one had been broken or attempted to be broken into, so they didn’t replace them. Sad for the druggies who can no longer access them for smoking, trading and sniffing, and of course, there’s nothing for the poor little mites to steal anymore.
Sunset
Undercooked carrots, teeth-breaking beef, hardly any gravy, overcooked garden peas, crumbly potatoes… well ¾ of a small potato. The lemon yoghourt was nice. Hehe!
After sunset shots… After sunset shot. After sunset shot.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I stirred from my slumber. My immediate thoughts and concern was to make sure the computer would allow me to save graphics & photographs. I thought a little prayer might help, so I offered one up). I unhitched the attached nocturnal catheter bag that hung from the day bag. Put it on the wobbly, weak, over-bed table so the carer can give me a colour rating when he/she arrives. I just had to see if the graphics could be saved to use in this blog, well, at that point, yesterday’s.
So I got the computer on without taking any photos and visited the Porcelain Throne. Thankfully, I made it in good time. This morning’s evacuation was without accidents, whoopsiedangleplops, accifauxpas, or embarrassments. But it was almost as messy as Sunday’s visit. It’s not that I was too smug about it; I was more concerned with getting the graphics on the blog. I cleaned up the wet room furniture, and I had the slightest wash possible. I didn’t shave after the Accifauxpa on Sunday; I think I was a smidge nervous and concentrated on the computer as an excuse for not shaving. Hope that makes sense.
Not a lot went too well today!
I put on the three photographs from last night, making them smaller and losing some quality, but all three were saved! At this point, I thought, while I was doing them, I would get some shots for today done and saved, and I got the fice graphics for the top of the page done—still resisting going into a smug mode, I may have learnt a lesson after yesterday’s farce.
Updating the Sunday blog revealed so many mistakes that it took me three hours to correct them, although I feel I must have missed some more. My eyesight is so variable it seems to react to different light levels. When the sun is out, it is far worse. Glaucoma Gladys, I assume. I wondered if they would bother doing this operation at all; it’s been a long time since the Cataracts were done. The Doctor said they couldn’t be done until they knew the Cataract operation was successful. I’m still waiting to hear from them. But never mind. I was interrupted when Carer Richard arrived. I calmed myself down and made a brew of Glengettie tea. I was well cheered up after telling Richard about the tumble and how I wasn’t sure if it was a razor cut or if I’d hit my head in the tumble. He said, smilingly, “We will have to send you into a home if you don’t stop having falls!” I laughed along with it, thinking he was joking. The memories of my stay in a ‘home’ after having the stroke came flooding back to me. It was a three-month nightmare! Then again, it’s no picnic living here nowadays. Imprisoned in the flat. Asking for help for me to get to the Doctor’s, dentist and opticians. Begging someone ot ring up and ask if they can do the injections at the flat, as they do for other house-bounders in the block. But they do not have the time to spend ringing the lifts and surgery and are put on hold with, as the last time, getting a; “You are nineteenth in the queue…” message. It’ll be too late for the flu and pneumonia injection soon. So, maybe a home might be a viable option? Then I remembered what happened in the one I was in and changed my mind.
I took two views from the kitchen, and after doctoring them, I tried getting them to save. No chance! I used the Ccleaner and went through the process as instructed, then turned everything back on, having to resign – on Norton, WP, Google and MS.
But would CorelDraw let me save anything? No!
So, I went through a clean-up via Norton. That failed, now the depression was gripping me!
I foolishly thought I’d see what I could delete. After the last cock-up, when I lost over 2000 photos, you think I would never try to do that again, wouldn’t you… & stupidly, I did!
I’ve lost, and don’t ask me how I did, I don’t know, all of today’s photographs I’ve taken! I used some from the WordPress gallery and got so angry with myself.
I reran the CC and got the last graphic to load.
Then, I took some more photos and tried them.
The camera told me the SD needed formatting, so I did. I’d forgotten all about it — it clears the card altogether!
Then, I was so low that I gave up.
Inner hatred and loathing, worrying about my situation and unsolvable problems as I sat here, spiritless.
Then I realised it was nearly time for the 17:30hrs carer to come. It was too late to make a meal, and the anguish had made me hungry for some reason. But I did have a stew of sorts. I sat here stewing over and over; I felt defeated.
Made another brew of Glengettie. And rare resolve came over me. “Sod it!” I’ll look at the WordPress comments, if there are any, and go of the WP reader.
I’m struggling to add memory to this computer. I’ve now tried four companies to get help; one has not replied, two have been negative, and one, The Computer Man, has said, “Please be patient.” That was a month ago. Huh! Getting photos and graphics on is sometimes impossible, like this morning. I’m using Ccleaner twice a day, and it still allows fewer files to be saved, so WordPress cannot load them. I’m getting depressed daily more than ever. Add the problems health-wise, mental and physical: not being able to get out to the doctor. The stupid things I’m getting up to, like forgetting what I am talking about mid-sentence, leaving the tap running, burning food I forget about, not forgetting the tumbles, walking into things and the falls. Not being able to contact my bank.
The Social lady I was referred to does not seem to understand my problems. But maybe my stuttering and frequent miscommunications are causing a misunderstanding. I have so many issues left to stew and rot, with no solutions or even acceptance of what I need help with. I’m finding it more challenging to concentrate. Today, it took me 3 hours to get the computer to save the first CorelDraw graphic to a file. I have no idea how I did it. The freeing of space never lasts long. I’ll have to stop bothering with so many graphics & photos. I love doing them.
Carer Christopher’s wife Omotola and son Gideon took me some pictures at the Goose Fair with my camera. That was lovely. Chris returned the camera this morning – but will I get them to go on WordPress? Depression Duncan is Deep Routed today, as you can see.
Even the Odes are not so easy to create. I don’t know why, but they have flowed easily until today.
Enough of my moaning. I am fed up with my moaning! But I feel the compunction via frustration of going on and on feeling sorry for myself. What a Whimp!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up trying to sleep again, got up around 04:00 hrs, took off the catheter night bag, and did my ablutions. This is proof of how sad I’ve become; it was much later that I realised I’d not had a shave! And by then, with the problems coming to the forefront, I thought, ‘Sod it and didn’t have a shave at all!
I put on fresh attire, PPs and dressing gown, and went to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. I took these two not-very-good shots of the early morning views. Made a brew of Glengettie, I was feeling so low, it didn’t bother me about keeping to the rules of only 2 mugs of tea being permitted. I must have had six minimum! Then, a rumble and grumble from the innards advised me that I needed to visit the . So, I did! He was still in charge. Four large Kharki-coloured rugby-ball-shaped lumps were painfully and slowly evacuated, but it was nowhere near as hurtful as yesterday’s effort.
Carer Christopher arrived, I think, for his first shift this week. He’s brought the Kodak Tim camera back with him. His wife, Omatola, and son, Gideon, had taken photos of Goose Fair for me on their visit. I shall try to get them onto WordPress, but I doubt if the computer will allow me to do so. So, it will be a shorter blog until I can get the HP rememoried. Grammarmly didn’t like rememoried?
I’ll try to get the fair photos on the computer now. I got the blog done. It was slow work, though, as the computer’s memory was short.
Carer Shaquille arrived. Just one Codiene taken.
Good God, I’ve just got over a seizure and dizzy spell, I think, at the same time. The acidy taste almost shoots up into the mouth, and Dizzy Dennis visits seconds later. Everything has to stop, and I sit as calmly as possible until the session ends. How horrible these are! It took a lot longer than it usually does.
I’m not feeling too good at all now.
What next?
Sod-it & Clapmongers!
The low-memory messages have appeared again.
