– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
There are several things, of which I am abstinent,
But certainly not returning anything that I have lent,
Weaknesses, too, like I’ve consistently overspent,
Sold my house, flat costs a fortune to rent,
Of course, I was fit then, as an adolescent,
I’ve had the odd medical adornment,
Now, in old age, surviving can be a torment,
My flat feels like a place of internment,
Ideas, plans, hopes become a delirifacient,
My body & brains sees too much inaction,
Hard to see & hear, and I’m glabrescent,
Yet at times, I feel so terribly content…
Aware of myself as being a totipotent!
Carers’ and nurses’ visits seem so transient…
But at each one, I get all besottent! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Five Porcelain Throne visits The first one, a Constipation Kondrad, was another long, painful struggle to evacuate the two gigantic, almost cube-shaped projectiles. The next four were the reverse: Trotsky, Terence, and Torrents. I suspect it was prompted by my eating the Vegetable Pickle, which tasted gorgeous. Maybe this was the payback – I expected the Trots, but no.
Ablutions were carried out. Along with the medicationings, these took over two hours to complete. The shaving and teeth cleaning were bloody affairs. Teeth, gums, cuts on the neck, and after the Trotsky visit, the bum was bleeding a little too much. My right leg top had some extraordinary markings, spots, bruises, & DVT veins showing on it that I’d not noticed before. So much, I photographed it for posterity.
Carer Nirma arrived: Urine graded. Body checks done. Diabetic socks fitted. Health Checks, temperature, blood test & levels were monitored. The BP was high, but it came down on the second reading.
Back to the blog, catching up.
Matron Jackie phoned again. See how things were going. Something about the falls team, or was that yesterday? The paragraph below reveals all.
Unfortunately, this morning (Saturday), I got into what can only be called a mega-pickle with all the day’s memory notes. I’d got mixed up entirely between the three blogs I was working on. Vainly thinking, I’d sort them out into three lots, one for each of the days. Not wanting to get more confused, I thought I had torn up Thursday’s notes. However, when I started Saturday’s template and then returned to Friday’s to update, I realised I hadn’t actually done so. It was Friday’s notes that had been ripped to shreds!
It had been such a fair morning up to now.
Bile threatened to come up from my innards. Self-lambasting, Self-hatred & I foolishly ground my teeth at my stupidity. I had to use the Toothache Spray and took an extra 30 mg of Codeine. The pains and ailments were introduced into Inchy’s world. Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald mainly.
Then, things went really ape-shit! Saturday morning, doing this catch-up, and was blessed by Satan again. I must have hit the wrong key combination, as I went into a mini-seizure. When I came out of it, the keyboard and mouse were not working at all. I went on CorelDraw to find the same, but I couldn’t get back to this because the computer froze. A blue screen then a black screen appeared, back to a blue screen, and as CorelDraw opened again, I had the mouse busy thingamajig on screen for around ten minutes. During that time, I was preparing for the worst and was on the verge of tears. The busy sign turned back to an arrow, and when I tried selecting artwork, I could not do so individually. It selected other things as well. Now, enough was enough. I was still in a haze after the seizure, and as this cleared, I tried to remember what I was doing when it went bonkers on me. I figured out I was in WordPress, and I went to the gallery by using the shortcut keys Shift-Alt-M.
I assume I hit a nearby key in error.
Reigned to failure, and thinking, ‘Well, it can’t make things any worse; I tapped, in quick mode, Shift, then Ctrl, Windows, then the Alt keys once each.
The Zoom changed to a smaller on-screen. I corrected it in the 3-dots top right, and bugger me… It was working again! UP TO NOW, anyway.
I absolutely refused to allow myself to go into Smug-Mode. My history forebade me.
I’m aware of the succubus, incubus or gremlin that is ever-ready to drop a Whoopsiedangleplop or Accifauxpa in my path.
I got back to trying to piece together Friday’s notes to make them readable. No chance.
So, guesstimates follow. Not many.
Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation!.
Erm… Er… Carers Nirma, Miza and Ejaz attended.
Back to Friday.
Good job that I took these memory-prompting snaps.
I was on the balcony, and saw the Asda van. Only two carrier bags were filled. But I had ordered even more spring water to add to the stacks of it I already had in stock.
The stock consisted of various bottles of spring water, soda water, and a few cans of Soda and Grapefruit. Not cheap, I like to use them to add to the water sometimes, to give it a bit of welcome flavouring. All my favourites were ordered. Do you see the size of Podwawelska sausages in packs of two? They dwarf the two 480g cans of Beef stew. This is the first time I’ve found & bought these. A bottle of Mushroom ketchup, and the teeth-testing but tasty Twiglets.
Blog Updating.
I missed a call on the new old-fogies mobile.
When Carer Mirzra came, he investigated the ins & outs of the Settings.
He rang from his own mobile, and Wallah! It came with a ringtone that I could hear! He then rang the mobile on the landline, and that had the same hearable chime! Thanks, Mizra!
The Chemists 4U delivery has not arrived yet. But yesterday I got these on order from Asda. Pleaded to get some Odour Eaters.
Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation! Unfortunately, I had a follow-through that made a mess and took ages to clean up!
I did the afternoon Health Checks. Carer Mizra checked them. The SYS was below the HYPER level, operating on Normal High.
Meal of the Day!
Chip-Shop oven chips, three different colours of tomatoes, vegetarian sausages, with sliced, unbuttered Milk Roll bread. It was a highly passable meal, but it would have been better if not for the Linda McCartney tasteless sausages.
Carer Ejaz made just the one call again. I’m wondering why he seems to be prevented from calling on me and just doing the one late call.
Not that either of the other two regulars doesn’t do a decent job. They do.
After-meal sunset shots. Distant. Then a zoomed-in shot.
It was more than a good job that I had the photographs to remind me. Even though I’d got them all out of sync in the gallery.
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I used to be an analyser, and much wiser,
An appeaser, a peace-loving adjudicator,
But politicians have changed my demeanour,
Their cynicism, lies, & self-greed gave me aporia,
I think each HMG minister & Prime Minister…
Can be classed as an expert snollygoster!
Faker & falser than any Indian fakir,
Hitler, Putin, but the greediest is Starmer,
Trump wants to make the USA greater?
Putin, to make Russia superior?
Starmer? Wants to make Starmer Richer,
Combined, they couldn’t make me feel sicker,
But Starmer’s Governmental shower…
With their terminological inexactitude,
Keir, the mountebank, poseur & storyteller,
“His Father was a tool-maker…”
His son, a charlatan, deceiver & hoodwinker,
He lied for cash when a barrister,
And continues as Prime Minister,
Whether he lies by omission?
Seemingly with the opposition’s permission?
Who thought they might win the election?
They sulk and need forgiveness & absolution,
Labour’s win was surely a game-changer,
Rishi was incompetent, Keir is an illywhacker
A word-twisting, up-market barrister,
Sausage & Hostage; do you remember?
So, we’re stuck with Starmers-kvetcher’s,
Chances of his assassination get slimmer,
But, if it happened, my odes could be cheerier!
Pensioners & Farmers, families would be happier! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Plenty of photos today, but little else. I’m still days behind with the blogging, Humph!
Shattered from yesterday’s 26-hour marathon of a day. Didn’t get up until 0645hrs, in a bit of a daze. I seem to have, according to the few scribbled notes here, sorted the waste bins as soon as I’d released the night bag from the catheter. Then spent half an hour on the Porcelain Throne. Eventually, releasing two Constipation Conrad concrete-like imitations of the H-bomb, Little Boy. So, no time again to get a shave and shower! Dirty!
Carer Nimra arrived as I got out of the wet room. Phorpain gelled the cartilages, and Arthur Itis. Barrier creamed body check. Then got the medications sorted and put my diabetic socks on for me. No more details found in the notes on this call. Although there was quite a bit of scribble, I could not read.
Started blog, catching up. Not a lot.
Then the Vynne delivery arrived with the catheter back-up equipment for me. Nimra put it under the Carer’s table on the next visit for me. Something else is coming, but because it is medical, the text doesn’t say what is arriving. Perhaps something is missing, but their text suggests it will arrive tomorrow. It did!
Back to the blogging. I’m miles behind.
Neighbour and friend Jenny sent an email that Wednesday’s blog is not on! I got myself into a right mess with it.
Really hot today. I nipped out on the balcony a few times to take shots of the skies. Then… Then… from the kitchen
Then an Amazon delivery arrived.
AHA! The SD card and pickled whatsits I can swap the SD card now, and not worry about me breaking, losing, or damaging the lads card, and let him have it back with my thanks. As you can see, the card fitted a treat!
I opened a jar of the Pakistani vegetable pickle and had a taste. Blooming-strong! I liked it, but I must be careful not to overeat at tonight’s meal. At least I hope not to miss another meal. Hehe! I’m looking forward to this pickle, just a little.. Below is what I plan to mix in the pickle. Bettroot, Kung Po sauce and mushroom ketchup.
I’ll mix them up in a small finger pot so I don’t get carried away and overeat of it.
Carer Nasra did a lot for me on her last visit. But deciphering all nine lines of my terrible scribble, come scrawl, was had. Cartilage,
The DVT-Warfarin Cardiac lady called up, she is coming to take another blood test sample tomorrow, then another one on Monday next.
Matron Jacjie phoned to see if I wanted to be referred to the Falls Team. I was not sure and explained that I would not have had the head-banging fall at all if it were not for the leaking catheter bag. I slipped on the urine that was escaping from a crack in the pouch.
This may have happened today; I’m not sure what was decided about the Falls Team referral.
Yes, I think it was this morning, and I misread what I wrote on the memory pad. Ignore the above.
I sneaked shot of Ejaz, removing diabetic socks.
Carer Ejaz did the last call. I got a plus+ treatment tonight. Diabetic socks off. Ejaz asked if I needed any Peptac. I did, and he gave me some. He found the Lymphorrea Leslie scab was leaking, and might need a plaster on again. Barrier creamed my back wings, and Phorpain gelled both knees and cartilages. Bless him. I’m sorry he doesn’t come so often nowadays. He and Carer Mirza help with the mobile phone problems and know the routine. Both come rarely now. Still, others need to learn, don’t they? Got an email with this sunset photo on it. A Carer had taken it for me yesterday, I think. Thank You.
The last few lines on the memory pad must have been written during a seizure. It looked more like a terrible copy of shorthand.
But it was so late, and I was really feeling all-in.
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Good luck, how is it bestowed?
If you have any, how was it incurred?
I’m thinking of Keir Starmer, the turd,
How did he become PM, & put the UK at peril?
He’s clearly no honesty, not a single moral?
I see his face and get all antagonistical,
He should be trite and apologetical,
Any decency he had has been shanghaied,
I pray for the news that he has died,
I’ll hear it in heaven, where he will be denied! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Aha, another up-to-the-neck-in-it flipping day! I thought all Wednesdays were bound to be complicated and hectic, with so many tasks to get done and so little time to do them. But this Wednesday, 13th August, brought more confusion and difficulties my way than ever before. Visitors, phone callers, delivery problems, DVT nurse, Bloof Nurse, catheter delivery difficulties, an avalanche of late mini seizures, etc.
However, the medical interruptions were joyously welcomed all the same, and made me feel cared for, not abandoned. Carer Nasra coped well with it, but I wasn’t in complete control. Silly thing to say, I’ve not been in control of my life for years.
Nevertheless, I am in deeper schnook with and about what took place – there was a two-hour period when no sooner had one problem been part solved, another alteration in plan came with the next visitor. By 14:30 hours, my writing pad had two pages of notes, offering little help in deciphering my own scrawl. This blog was not started until Thursday morning, just no time – and just as gauling, no shower, or shave for yet another day! On the bright side, a Carer brought me an SD card from his device, and it worked in Kodak Tim 2! I’ve got a loan of it until the new Kodak SD card arrives. Which is due tomorrow. But I had to promise not to look at his pictures on the card Haha!)
So, despite there being a load of codswallop on today, you can be certain that I’ve still missed a lot of failings, frustrations, mistakes, cock-ups, errors… oh, I left the tap running yet again. So no shave or shower. AGAIN! Be grateful for small mercies. Hahaha!
A large order arrived from Ocado. See how many bags-worth. Humph! Cock-up number three of the day, I thought I’d ordered it for next Wednesday. I need help with this, specifically with the Arithmaphobia! I did ask Google’s AI thingy, and got: Yes, help is available for arithmophobia, even if it’s a late-life diagnosis. Arithmophobia, the fear of numbers, can be addressed through various therapeutic approaches. Exposure therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), and sometimes medication, along with lifestyle changes, are standard treatment options. I had to change three words cause it was written in US English. Soda water drinkies, Schweppes, Lemon fool, & Carnipus sausages. I liked these, chewy but tasty! I snapped some of the foods that tickled my fancy. (There’s not been a lot of that these last few years, Hehe, I can tell yers). These tomatoes are from the Isle of Wight. Costly, but so mealy and tasty! Voom variety. A few naughty favourites as well. With Twiglets (not good for the teeth), Frazzles and Smokey bacon. And, of course, my top-loved Maryland Vegan cookies. I have no idea why I bought these apples. Not a cat in hell’s chance of eating them with my few and broken teeth! The phone rang at this stage. It was the start of the catheter parts farce, which didn’t arrive. These plain NANNS are the ones I tried with my home-made stew the other week. Remember to sprinkle water on them in the oven, and they taste delightful dunked. Two small Fitzgerald’s sourdough batons. Ocado are dearer overall, but they have things that are not available. I tend to search for their special prices. My supply of Spring Water and Soda water was now well stocked up. I got a bottle of the Grapefruit and Grapefruit & Barley water to use as a top-up to give taste to the water drinks. I also got a bottle of fruit cordial or squash, whichever. Mandarin, lime & lemon.
Carer Nimra arrived for the extended visit and took the laundry down first. While she was downstairs, Matron Jackie came. Nimra returned, as Matron was checking my lower regions front and rear. I ask Carer Nimra to clean the oven for me, especially now, after my cock-up, Whoopsiedangleplop of leaving the oven on for the 23-hour duration of my hospital stay in Cardiac visit. She did a good job on it for me. We spoke of something and… Ah, I remember now what it was. I explained what to do if I go into a seizure while she’s here; the instructions I found on the NHS site were more about what not to do. Do not touch or move them unless there is danger nearby, or injuries that need the recovery position, and/or possible Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) are present. I asked her not to talk loudly as well. In the past, people had shouted loudly after not getting any response to their asking if I was alright, and shaking me – this dragged me from the seizure, and put me in a panic mode for some reason. That was the worst-ever recovery time I’ve ever suffered. I’m not sure, but I think I had a seizure after Matron left, but how can I be sure? Maybe not? Why did I think that?… As far as I know, or think, I only had two seizures all day, one in the afternoon, one about 0130hrs this morning. Why did I even mention it? I do ramble on, and I don’t have the time to do that, but I do? It’ll be another gawd knows when before I can even start on today’s (Thursday) blog. Note to Self: Stop waffling!
A DVT Cardiac team member rang me to ask how I felt. They informed me that they will be taking my blood samples more frequently from now on and will contact me with the dates and times beforehand. Please ensure you are in when they call. Possibly with a Cardiac member who will take a brain scan, BP, temperature, etc..
I got a call from the ICC Lady, via the Carer’s phone. It seems someone has already put an order in for prescription drugs & catheter equipment. I was lost even further.
Carer Nimra went down to put the washing in the dryer. I had a text about the catheter equipment being delivered soon. Ninra returned, and I showed it to her. She made some calls to clarify and tell them I only had one night bag left. After a brave succession of dealing with different departments, I got a call from Matron. I’m struggling with my writing in the notebook. I’m a little confused about what I’ve included and what I’ve left out. I’d better stop here; it’d likely come out as hogwash.
Carer Nimra returned with the laundry – all damp, with the slippers wet. But, she’s not one to be beaten, our Nimra isn’t… out onto the balcony and put the slippers on the four-wheel-walker in the sunshine to dry! And hung up the damp dressing gown in the hallway, where at that time the sun was creeping in.
Nurse Hristina arrived at the time she said she would, bless her, she is a treasure. I must ask her if she can get a bottle of Krakus Borscht. I keep forgetting to ask the Angel.
A blessed person, whom I cannot name, loaned me an SD card & Camera Tim Kodak 2 is back in action! In fact, I took some of the food out of the fridge and cupboards to photograph; that you see above. Now, let’s hope the new card works with Amazon. I’ve also ordered some pickled vegetables for tomorrow. Looking forward to trying them, hope they are not too hot. Made in Pakistan. I’ll try to remember to let you know.
Well, I’m sure I missed something in my rush. But, as it is now Thursday at 17:30hrs, and obviously I’ve not started on that blog yet, not even finished this one. Cuts will have to be made to let me catch up some. But, me being me, it won’t happen.
I love a good write; it makes up for not getting any good gossip, I believe.
Ar Carer Ejaz made the last call. I really appreciated having been assisted with the loan of an SD card for the camera.
I said cherrio to the sunshine. Bye, bye… Cheerio… Hope to see you tomorrow!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Dad knocked one out for me, for talking sarcastically, Soups made from bones, tongue & hooves, are prone… Sugar was cheap, a few more teeth, gone, I got beaten up, lost more than one, Dad sent me to the gym to learn to box skillfully, Had a bout versus a muscle man, I was scrawny, Lost all but one, won that on a technicality, He had a heart attack, which was a bummer! Dad got me playing cricket, being as it was summer, Fast bowler, ball in gob, even bloody awfuller… I got blood all over my coiffure, A mugger, I said sod-off, he gave me a smack… Lost a tooth from the front, one from the back, Wonder how he did that, suppose it’s just a knack, Hospital, trolley fell off of it, Oy, caramba! Became an alcoholic, just beer, no gin or lager, Pissed, miss bus, walk home, fall, lose a tooth, regular, depression, sadness, melancholy, have a mope, False teeth? I don’t have any hope… Now Starmer is the UK’s new pope! A greedy, dishonest, lying bloke, I can’t afford to have my teeth out,
My bank balance is close to nothing, Keir stole my money, I’ve not got gout, Do I get no freebies? No, I do without, I’m getting older, more scatterbrained, dottier, But have toothache! It’s getting rottener, But, with far fewer teeth to come a cropper, 11 medications, including Warfarin & Beta-Blocker, I’d like to set myself up as Starmer Knocker? A derogator of dishonest Herr Starmer, I should really try to keep myself calmer, If Keir would kindly die painfully, & slower, Now that really would be good Karma! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 02:00hrs: I bounded out of bed, did a double-flip, and yodelled as I opened the window and greeted the world with a smile… That is not exactly authentic.
05:40hrs, I woke and fell asleep again, the moment I felt the pain from lurking in both knees. Wondering why, after all the harassment over the last two days, should the one ailment that has been absent all last week, suddenly start on the rampage? Within, I imagine two minutes of nodding back into dreamland, twitched; so violently, just the once. But it was enough to make me force my way out of bed, take off the nocturnal catheter pouch, and go in search of Codeine to ease the pain. This has never happened before; not the neck twitching, but the pain being so sharp. I’m assuming that it may have been caused by not getting medication for the days while in the hospital. What do you think? I left the card nearby with the bag, so the Carer can assess the colour for me.
Then I did the safety checks, although doing them last night when I got back from the hospital and finding I’d left the oven on was not encouraging.
I glanced out of the window and thought I saw the moon still showing in the photograph that Mirza took for me. Near the centre, about a third of the way down
I then thought I’d better get the ablutions and medications done before the Carer arrives.
The first task was to utilise the Porcelain Throne. But, for the third day on the trot, no evacuation was passed! A fair bit of noisy wind escaped, but not a sausage. Nothing, ziltch, nada or a blank. The shave was bloodless. Great!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and got on the computer to update the Sat/Sunday blog. Which I achieved – but with Grammarly telling me that I had errors, wait for it… 333 errors! It took me an hour just to check them out & correct.
Carer Nimra arrived, walked straight in without using the door-chime, and found me with just the underpants on. Well, it was a warm day. Haha!
She’d been told nothing about me being hospitalised. I gave her an outline of the incidents that led to the fall and the following 21 hours of waterless, foodless time in the hospital. Late on Sunday, a new team started their shift, and I mentioned to one of the incoming nurses that there was no food or water available, as I was doing my every 15-minute mini ECG checks. She came back with a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich and a coffee for me. I thanked her for her efforts. But unfortunately, there were two rare things that I cannot eat. I didn’t mention it; not after she’d made the effort to help me. Carer Nimra barrier creamed my back flaps; I couldn’t reach them earlier. Then, she put some on the left Cartilage of Chloe, who was giving me some bother. We went onto the balcony, she wanted to take a photo, I think. Graded the urine bag as a level 5. Nice gal.
I then had a bit of a nerve-wrenching bother with CorelDraw and the computer, though.
I’d put an SD card in, which I found earlier, to see if CoralDraw would let me clear it, and try it in the camera to see if it would work. , No! When I tried to delete the photographs (they were from 2009), the whole shebang froze!
Almost instantly, semi-panic was birthed, and DAWNED!
I sank so low. How can I handle so many disasters in such a short space of time? I wanted to curse, spit and scream! As I tried to think of a way to close the other programs, I couldn’t. The computer or CorelDraw, or both, were not allowing me to do anything at all. As I was thinking, if I leave it for an hour, just maybe it will reactivate? Yes, that’s how stupid I am! Which brought on the pathetic self-pity as well…
The door chime rang out, and in walked the lovely retired nurse 💗 who had been tending to my Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies’ fungal lesion. She inquired why the plaster was on my head, and even the depression could not stop me from telling the tale of Saturday & Sunday. She listened too. 🌹Bless her cotton socks 🌹. She then swapped the plaster with a new one. Checked out the piles and bum; they were much easier. Off she went with my appreciation shown, and of course, returned as I turned on the computer, and the same frozen CorelDraw showed up. So much for turning it off at the plug, the only thing I could think of. Then the doubts sprouted up again; Did I think of turning it of at the plug, or did I actually do that?
Doubting Thomas’s arrival, followed by the certainty that Calamity Jane was on the way, and back into mode.
I believe that while talking and listening with my sweet District Nurse, 🌹 I think that I flirted with for a few minutes, knowing that my precious nurse was with me. Have I fallen in love at my age, and in my current physical & mental state?
Her arrival actually froze out Darius for a while! Nothing has ever achieved that before! Death will, but then again, you never know, Darius may follow you into Heaven or Hell? I’m writing down my thoughts again. Waffling on? Lost the plot!Tsk!
I regained a modicum of concentration and mused over what to try next with the computer problem.
The intercom chimed out. It was Carer Nimra. As she was coming up, I had a bit of a seizure, only a short one, but they usually have after-effects that are worse than after a long one. Blown if I can recall what took place. I feel things went well, though. Think we parted happily.
Now, back to the computer problem. I made sure this time, and had to disconnect from the plug, taking out the plug for a minute, then replacing it in the socket. I had little faith, but I continued. I didn’t turn on the computer, but instead, I turned it off again at the socket, and then booted the tormenting computer—with a flinch and a prayer. It went through a scary list of options to boot it up. To be honest, (Sorry to scare Herr Starmer by using that word, honest), I thought it wasn’t going to work, and I pressed the option buttons without making a note of them – What a Fool! It booted up! But I can’t remember the sequence for next time when I start it!
I got so angry with myself!
I pressed on and opened CorelDraw, Humph! Some fonts didn’t load, so I had to select substitutes, which may cause problems in earlier postings. The file you require is unavailable. Select another or save and rename this one to a different folder and name. I was baffled now. So I pressed the save-as tab and renamed the file. Well, it loaded, but very slowly. I expected a lot of work to be missing, as I couldn’t save it when the computer froze. Turned off CorelDraw and reopened it after a few minutes. The newly named file opened, and I investigated what was missing. As it happens, only a few photos and graphics were not there! I think I must have saved it just before the freeze. If so, I’m happy I did! But the fear of booting up again lingered.
I got the Sat & Sun blog posted, and then I realised I hadn’t posted Fridays either. I was going to do that on Saturday, but then tumble interfered. So I checked that blog and posted it off too. I felt I was getting somewhere at last.
Carer Ejaz did the last call. No one had told him about the Hospital mayhem. He didn’t have time to listen anyway; it was a short visit, and he had another one to attend to. I’d not made a meal yet, so he left the night pouch on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, dirtier than ever catheter-tube-trapping recliner, for me to put on later after cooking. Which is okay, the new day bags are shorter and much smaller, so the risk of going giddy at bending down is minimal. The lad asked me to send the blogs to his mobile, which I did. He just had time to take two photos for me. One of the fantastic sun-going-down view, so fiery and colourful, from the kitchen window. Then he snapped my much-improved Lymphorrea Leslie legs. Don’t they look so much better now my new love 🌹 has been looking after them?
Well, I’m shattered now. I’m going to save & close everything, shut down the computer, and see if I can remember the sequence to boot it up again. If not, suicide is the best option. I can’t stand losing the computer forever, with all the disasters of the past week. Here goes, fingers crossed and curses and a hex on liar, back-hander taker, two-faced, unreliable, pensioner-disabler-family robbing, more Tory than Labour inspired, ☢ Herr Starmer. ☢
I may not be back…
Of course, you won’t know if I’m dead or the computer won’t boot, will you? Because I won’t be able to post this desperate plea for help, formerly identified as a blog. Crossed fingers then. Heheheh!
What a Relief!
Got in, but with a degree of “It’ll only happen againness” – “How the hell did I do thatness” and
sank into the most prolonged Seizure of the day. I was just coming out of it when Carer Ejaz arrived to do the last call. So, my memory is a little vague again.
Ejaz, I think, took a photo of the meal. I guess it was Ejaz, anyway? Took the diabetic socks off. Left the catheter night pouch on the recliner, so I could remember to put it on after making the meal.
Got the meal of the day prepared. Dry bread, tomato sarnies.
Red onions and some
superb chips!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – You’ll be guaranteed, falls, accidents, the odd blip,
Memory loss, Glaucoma & many Whoopsiedangleplop,
You’ll be hard of hearing, & lose your handgrip,
Not many visitors, not a single friendship,
With mental, physical pains and hardship,
How do you cope with this? Well, ad-lib…
Your memory will crash, so no need for a brainwipe,
Glaucoma. cataracts, cartilages flop,
Tasks, needs, wants; you’ve no controllership,
Your meals you will often burn to a crisp,
Logic, concentration, plans? No, you can’t prescript,
Self-control, understanding? Frustrations precip.,
How do you cope with this? Well, ad-lib!
You’ll not know whether what you’re saying is true or a fib,
We won’t sleep well, we’re too big for a crib
We take our Morphine, Warfarin & rofecoxib,
How do you cope with this? Well, ad-lib!
You must stop eating meat, especially spare rib,
The Carers may have to get to you during a pogonip,
If you can’t get out of your house or apartment…
Join WordPress, I say thus in assuagement,
Though your ailments are persistently accrescent,
And the doctors leave you in confoundment,
I’m speaking as an autodidactment,
Your nature will change, getting all ambivalent,
WordPress can diminish irritation, an abirritant,
Photos, tales, poems, not a detriment,
Our brains, computers; both heaven-sent…
It has been known to cause mental enfeeblement, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A Grand Morning. No, Ejaz, though. Carer Nimra, Carer Mizra, then Carer Mizra… After this, things went all apesh…. Well, all wrong. It’s bad enough with the SD card not working.
Aaarghhh! The computer came up with an option about turning off something (keyboard repeat?) or other, or not to. GREAT TIME TO GO INTO A SEIZURE! I came out, or back, and was in a haze of muddlement. And the keyboard was not typing! I was on CoralDraw at the time I drifted off. I went to WordPress, but it wouldn’t let me type. It seemed ages before I could get things together and investigate.
I thought at first it might be the keyboard batteries, but it wasn’t. I could see the mouse icon, but not type anything in any program. I tried new AAA batteries anyway. No change. I’m not sure what I hit on the option list or what it was for. I was still twitching for a while, so I assumed Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun had caused me to hit something unwanted. I was angry at myself, and Depression Darius dug into my psyche. I wanted to cry… I think I might have shed a few tears in pitiable self-pity. I reset the computer, and a blue screen appeared with confusing details of the problems; it might as well have been a scientist’s blackboard.
Desperate, I rang my Neighbour’s doorbell, Malcolm. And apologised for bothering him, explained what had happened and asked if he had any advice.
It didn’t help any, being told that I looked like death. Do I need an ambulance call? Hehehe! I can laugh now. He said; Turn everything off for a couple of minutes, and reboot. That’s what he would have done. Thanked him and went back to the flat.
I was a bit of a mental wreck at this stage. A bag of nerves, depressed, and the innards started aching something awful for some reason, I also felt tired, worn out, not with it, as I do when coming out of a seizure, but I’d not had one. (I think!)
I nervously carried out Malcolm’s suggestion.
Rebooted, and got a different, but just as baffling, blue-screen message.
I sank into a mental depth never visited before. I sat there looking and not understanding what, if anything, to do next, for a good few minutes.
Then, another bluescreen replaced the previous one. After pressing Enter and then F1 as instructed, I got into the computer!
It was afternoon anyway by then, and the usual fatigue came over me. But I could barely keep awake this time. I rechecked that the computer was working and created some content in CorelDraw, Excel, and WordPress to confirm it was working, okay.
I carefully turned it off; I was beyond concentrating anyway by now. I just settled down and fell asleep in the £300 second-hand shop-purchased recliner from 1966, which was causing welts, uncomfortable, non-functional, itch-inspiring, and crumb-containing.
Despite feeling tired, my mind continued to worry about the computer problem. I’ll be well behind, so I’ll have to miss out on a lot of stuff. Try to catch up in the morning. (Now)
I did eventually fall asleep with the aid of the TV adverts. I think I must have been deep-sleeping. Cause when the intercom rang, and I got up to admit the Carer, I was all over the place. I assume I’d had a seizure again while sleeping. The symptoms were the same as when I came out of one. But more severe. I could barely keep my balance and did not get to the intercom in time. Staggered back to the recliner, sat down and instantly fell asleep again. The Carer was shouting in my ear, and I must have been mumbling, not talking, which annoyed her. I reckon I was trying to tell her about my coming out of a seizure, that is why I’m unresponsive at the moment – or did I just think that? I really was in an out-of-it condition.
I assume I had the medications, and I might have asked for some Peptac, although that may have been discussed during the later call made by Carer Mizra.
I sensed the Carer was asking if I wanted an ambulance, but I think she couldn’t understand my mumbling, “Thanks, but no,” which I believe I offered.
Seems that I couldn’t have been looking too good, judging by the Carer and Malcolm’s reactions.
Despite Duodenal Donald’s attentions, they are still with me this morning, but less severe. Ah, yes, I remember now, when Carer Mizra arrived to wake me up again, I asked for some Peptac and had a good guzzle, and kept the bottle at the side of the recliner. There was no way I could move to the bed, for I was so confused, drained and tired.
There is every chance that I may have got things mixed up, or wrong. This is the worst coming-out episode ever. I think the computer problems scared and upset me. Take all this with a pinch of salt.
Now I pray the computer lets me in to update this blog. (It did!) And Duodenal Donald & Anne Gyna don’t get upset with all the hassle.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My grasp of the ungraspable, Seems no longer available, My mind is no longer terrestrial, Friday was mentally tumultable, Definitely it was seriocomical, A.M. was great, afternoon, sepulchral, Morning fine, the P.M. was Seizural, Early, I felt fine, then a schlemiel, Whoopsiedangleplops, feeling celestial, At first sybaritical, then self-critical, Why ever did High-Horis skedaddle? Spent most of the day sort of phantasmal, Seizures rampant, leaving me quixotical, Had thoughts that were ragmatical, Concentration was bad, indeed risible, Seems my good luck comes sesquicentennial, Help, obviously needed, but not available, Seizures, Dementia leave me in mental trouble, Glaucoma, Cartilages, Catheter, endurable…
Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald always painfully,
Peripheral Neuropathy, I respond nervously,
My heart’s aorta, still working mechanically,
But it’s the seizures I find inexplicably…
Going into one, I feel it coming sensorily…
Not every time, one out of four, or three, maybe,
The shorter ones can come on instantly,
Coming out of them, aggravatingly…
It’s the part that most bothers Inchie,
I’m confused, have insufficient balance, and feel dizzy,
That’s when a Carer or nurse calls, usually,
For a while, I’m speaking incoherently…
Yet it sounds to me, as I’m talking clearly,
Sometimes things might clarify swiftly…
I feel embarrassed, mumbling inaudibly,
Troubles with problems mentally & physically,
I don’t claim I manage admirably,
Like yesterday, I felt self-pity,
I’d love to get help from someone in authority,
I’ve not seen anyone about the seizures or Neuropathy,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, you see…
I have just looked it up …
Cognitive impairment: a decline of mental ability,
Pre-onset of a mental illness, psychologically,
Yet still I can make up this silly ditty?
So why am I feeling self-pity?
Now I feel all guilty…
I await the next thing, cataclysm, I’ll probably drop my mug of tea!
Fall over and break my knee…
Or burst the catheter full of pee,
Break another tooth, pay for dentistry,
Do a Google search for camaraderie…
I hope I’m not writing sarcastically?
Am I going from comically to cynically?
No question about it, I’m going doolally! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was up and about (feeling deeply vague) when I realised that it was 03:55hrs. I recall what I was doing and what I was thinking at the time. Oh, yes, I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne, painfully forcing some movement from the evacuating monster torpedo! Through sheer willpower and determination, I’d freed myself of that 15-inch torpedo within 15 minutes !
During this period, to take my mind of off the pain, I mused over what lay ahead for me today. What disasters, failures, Whoosiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, cock-ups, bloomers & bloopers, oversights, foul-ups, oversight, glitches would be launched at me today?
They started after Carer Mirza had called. Well, here they are:
Approx. 09:00hrs, I emptied the catheter and started working on this blog. About half an hour later, I felt the urine soaking onto my leg, pouch bag, my sock and my slipper! Oh, dear, another urine leak! The carpet was soaked under the leg. I struggled to get the socks off, so I decided to wash them straight away and hang them to dry, along with the pouch.
I closed the pouch, put the slippers in the laundry bag, and hobbled carefully, with just the kargoul on and the socks, which were diabetic ones that had to be hand-washed and hung to dry. So, I hung them up on a coat hanger above the sink. (The nurse who came later was kind enough to take this photo and email it to me. I found it on my return from the hospital on Sunday morning.) This is when I stood back from reaching up to the bar and took the tumble.
The catheter pouch had still been leaking, even in the closed position. I went down on one knee, banging my head on the metal serving trolley. There was a lot of pee! I went on all fours to the recliner and somehow managed to get myself up. Then I returned to the kitchenette to clean up the mess. Initially, use kitchen towels. But the pouch was still leaking. On closer inspection, I saw that the plastic covering the exit tubing had come away from the tube. I stopped cleaning up and depressed my alarm wristlet alert button. I think I’ve got the following in the correct order; I told the NCC Controller of the tumble and the faulty day catheter bag.
Asked him if he could advise the Community Nurses and ICC (Carers) for advice, as the scuff mark on my head was getting more painful as I spoke, turning into an increasingly throbbing pain.
He said he would and will get back to me.
I restarted the kitchen clean-up, and the chap rang back on the alarm box.
A nurse would be coming, and he would leave the line open in case I had a turn for the worse. Kind of him!
He spoke again in a few minutes; He’d talked with the District Nurses Matron, Jackie, and said she’d rang for an ambulance. A nurse should arrive first to assess the problem, but I must go with the ambulance after the nurse has left. This may be a little mistaken, as I did take a turn for the worse; the throbbing was getting near my pain level.
The controller kept asking if I was alright and checking on me.
I sat down quietly. The throbbing did die down shortly after.
The nurse arrived and put on a new catheter bag. It was a different type, with the better, more reliable stiffet release valves. So that was one confidence booster I was pleased with.
The ambulancemen arrived. I got into a semi-panic thinking of what I would need to take with me. I should have done this beforehand, but naturally, being me, I didn’t.
The men spoke, telling me they would bring up their wheelchair and take me to the hospital in it. Nice chaps. They did a Q&A session, then got the equipment out. Pulse, temperature, BP, Lung checks, breathing checks, and a heart check thingamagig. I think it’s called an electrocardiogram (ECG) machine.
I got on another Kagoule to go in. (A mistake, I know that now!) The lads gave each other looks as they read the first heartprintout. Then did another, and spoke about that one, and did a third one.
At this stage, they said, “It’s best if we get you there swiftly”. I mentioned that I had to do safety checks in the wet room and kitchen, and I thought I had done them while the wheelchair was being brought up.
I felt sure I’d checked the stove, taps and fridge in the kitchen, and faucets in the wet room. I was sure I had. Then the lads got me seated in their wheelchair, with a seat belt fitted. I’d made sure I’d got the mobile phone, crossword book & pen, bus pass, the prison…no, no, I mean flat keys, and some cash.
Despite the injury, I was so glad to be getting out of the flat, even if it was only to the hospital. Hahaha!
The trip to the QMC was, for some odd reason, vaguely remembered. Other than the bumpy ride.
ARRIVAL AT THE QMC (Old photo reused).
The ambulancemen wheeled me out of the ambulance and into and through the A&E wing.
Well, what a sight. Corridors with patients and relatives were so crowded that they barely had enough room to navigate the wheelchair through them, with many short waits for someone to move a trollied patient out of the way to let us through. Gawd Blimey… they were so busy. We got into a lift and found the same thing on the ‘D’ floor. Trolleys of patients all over the place. I had no idea where I was, not that I was bothered at the time; wherever it was, I was not in my cell! I mean flat.
I was then transferred into a cubicle and was then moved onto a trolley. In which I resided, unmedicated (pain-killer or prescription), no drink, no food, for the next 20¾ hours of misery. But, I had sneaked some crisps into a bag and took them, flipping good job I had taken them with me, with my precious crossword book. (Cunning, or what?)
Twenty minutes later, I was collected and taken to the QMC Emergency Department surgical unit, in the Outpatients Department, in the blue zone, N4 area, and given a whole brain CT scan. I think they found one. Haha! These photos were taken from the web. Then back to the Emergency CT ward. I was locked up, never to move again, until I was freed. And some 20 hours of misery awaited me. This photo of the ward must have been taken when it was new. So different today. Packed solid with patients, and fed-up staff.
The trolley I was on was so painful to lie on. The first Carer to visit me, for BP checks, I asked if the head of the trolley could be moved higher and forward, please. Explaining my inability to lie flat causes me dizziness and back pain. Eventually, she answered me, saying, Yes, it can be moved… and disappeared, saying she’d be back, a little like Arni spoke those lines in the film. Hehe! I never saw her again.
The cubicle was so cold. One nurse brought me a small throw, bless her cotton socks.
Then, a lady arrived for blood extraction. He left a plastered contraption on my arm, saying someone will take my blood for testing every fifteen minutes from now on. Don’t knock this tube off! Oh, I didn’t.
Then a mini CT test. Leads stuck on my chest, back, and arms. Saying someone will be doing this every 20 minutes. By the time four CTs were done, my kaghoule was split so much, and right up beyond my bum, others were laughing. Air enough, so was I.
I looked like… well, I don’t know. Each time they got me out of bed to access the points for putting the clips on, a bit more of a tear or two would grow.
When they finally told me I could go home, many hours later on Sunday, and gave me a list of things not to do, and to do. As I stood up, I could hear the laughter harder than ever. What have they been doing to you – did they rape you?” And “God, you look like you’ve been beaten up!” As I got in the wheelchair, I was displaying my bottom, hips, and Little Inchie and his accoutrements. The comments I got varied from pointing at my lower regions, accompanied by “Hahaha!” To, “Ah, how dinky! r cute, or quaint!” I could hear them because I took my newly battery-powered hearing aids with me!
Still, it gave them and the ambulancemen a laugh, and I was happy to do that for the overworked angels.
Gone out of sync there, Tsk!
I was cold and uncomfortable in that trolley in that cubicle. Late on, about three hours before getting my freedom, and an actual Doctor called on me, early hours of Sunday morning. She put a small, thick blanket over me, and at long last, moved the top of the trolley up and forward for me. t was heaven compared to what it was before. Thank you, Doctor, whoever you were. 🤎 X
On the last mini CT scan, a different shift lady, who I assume had just started her shift, came out with a quote to beat them all! I laughed so much, it hurt!
“You know you’re a nurse when your finger has gone in places you never thought possible.”
As she checked out Hammorhoid Harold’s bleed! A highlight of my stay in the hospital!
The above helped me through to when the Doctor returned with all the diagnoses, to tell me, with a cunning smile on her face, that I could go home.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE AMBULANCE HOME
I wanted to get home for once, after leaving hungry, drinkless, my Khagoul torn to shreds and no sleep.
But, despite the joking, my esteem for nurses
remains as high as ever, probably higher.
As I was pushed through the maze of corridors on my escape route, my heart went out to the staff at the QMC. Every corridor still had patients on trolleys queuing in them. Far less than yesterday, thankfully. The staff on their way home had a twinkle in their eyes; those arriving didn’t!
The same ambulance men were in a better mood than yesterday, although they were pleasant enough chaps, just cheerier today. he ride home was even bumpier than the one going to the hospital.
BY good fortune, we drove along the road where I have to go in November, to discuss my upcoming
Trephination surgery, the driver confirmed it was the building I needed. It’s on Leen Gate in Lenton, and we passed it, and the driver confirmed that it was the place that I needed to get to. Then we got back to the flat, my haemorrhoids were bleeding, and my cartilages were hurting. A bouncy ride, and just as we got on Citrus Grove, where the flats are, we went over the unseen speed bumps, and I suffered again.
Humph! A bit of a mind blank here. I can’t recall getting into my flat! But once inside, the heat in there scared me to death! I hastened to the obvious place the heat was coming from, the kitchen, and found that I had not, as I thought I had, turned off the stove, and it had overheated the place. No signs of damage were found. t must have been on a low heat level. But it could have been dangerous leaving it for all that time. Blimey, I could have easily caused a fire. What a Silly Stupid Iriot!
I searched Google Maps for the neurosurgery place and found it. Now I think it will have to be a taxi to get there and back. Buses with numbers, as well as their timings, are all affected by my Arithmaphobia. I must ask a Carer to help me with that.
I opened the windows and went to the toilet for the first time since Friday night, hoping to pass something smaller than a granite-sausage, this time. I DID… NOTHING! ehehe! Tsk!
Three days now without any rear-end flow,
Will I want, or be able, to go?
Well, I just don’t know!
While sitting there, an evacuation was a no-go…
My mind mused again, on our UK Dumbo,
The unworthy Prime Minister who misleads & lies,
Brewing up problems as yet to be addressed,
Driven by greed, self-wealth; he’s not a theopneust,
The perfect, cunningest solipsist!
I just had to have a go at him, Keir the schiziest, Who hides his empathylessness!
I liked scribbling that, I’m at my wittiest!
Carer Mirza, formerly Carer Mizra, because I was misspelling his name. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately, doing things, making choices, wrongly.
Telling Mirza (I got it right then!) about the ambulance driving by the neurosurgery place, and matching it with what he said about the scan revealing a lot of fluid on the brain, gave me hope that this may be the worrying problem lately with my brain-power loss. Just maybe, they can slow down my decline. I know the Doctor said it can’t be stopped, but I’m clinging to the hope that the Trethination procedure could slow it down. You don’t know how much this gives me hope for carrying on living in the flat, and not being sentenced to living in some old people’s care home. PLEASE! Anyway, Mizra… Mirza understood what I was saying. He gave me the… Crapllemongers, I spelt his name wrong again, sorry mate. Mizra… Got It! Mirza had followed what I was saying and wished me all the best with it. Telling me I am a lovely man and patient. Double, nae, treble Smug mode utilised! Bless him. edications were issued, and he had to dash off to catch the bus to his next client.
I phoned Sister Jane to tell her I had escaped the hospital and was now back in the flat.
I got on like a house on fire with the blogging catch-up. When the teatime dilapidation started. Tired, weary. No chance of finishing it today. I thought I’d aim to make a meal: Sausages, garden peas, and eat each sausage with a slice of Milk Roll bread, with sauce, naturally. I’ll test the yoghurt before deciding if it’s alright, as it’s one day out of date. Then try to get an early night, so at long last I can get up in the morning bright & early (Ahem!) and get a full ablutioning session in, but we’ll see.
Carer Mirzra snapped the outdated calendar clock. Then he made the necessary changes and adjustments for me.
Someone unknown sent me this via email. It may have been from Ejaz from last week. I can recall us looking at the partial moon. Ejaz must have snapped it for me and forgot to send it earlier? Thanks, mate.
I felt terrible later on when I found the LU biscuits I bought to thank Jenny; I still haven’t taken them to her flat. I need to text her to find the best time for me to take them down. Please remember!… I’ll do it now… Huh, the battery’s dead, I’m charging it.
I think one of the Carers took some shots for me. I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog when I get them. I’m sure that the Carer took a night shot and the meal. Oh, such an excellent meal. If he did, you’ll salivate at it, well, maybe not, but it was lovely to me. I’ll be disappointed if I’ve got this wrong.
Now, being so short of sleep, will I nod of and dwell with Sweet Morpheus, and awake refreshed? eeply contented, with a warm feeling inside of me… I suppose something will ruin my rest, just a feeling that has come over me… We’ll see. I might be wrong, of course, but this has been known.
I need to dig around again on Monday. I know I had two spare SD cards that worked on Kodak Tim 2. I’ll have to find them or at least recall what I did with them. How to do that is another query that I anticipate may end up in the ether-full of so many other forgotten and/or misforgotten recent things, events and intentions.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Based, of course, on my own experiences, Your brain will not be so capacious, Your cerebrum will not be as duteous, Your memory will fade, fail or turn factitious, You will be open and liable to fraudulencies, Your decision-making will turn into faff, According to your mood, you may well laugh… There are many dementias that we may have, Diabetic dementias, bringing delirium or psychosis, Depressions, dingbats, Psychological disorders, Second childhood, neurasthenia, mental distress, Hydrocephalus Dementia, Huntington’s diseases, Frontotemporal dementia, or mixed dementias, Lewy body dementia, or Diabetic dementias, Lewy affects your mind & body, that’s crass! Senile dementia, or diabetic dementias, Peripheral Neuropathy; You’ll see neurologists, Your cognitivity declines, maybe find brain disorders, Mental decrepitudes, possibly going subdelirious, This is a fair warning, not spurious, Knowing what may behead is sagacious, No matter if it’s agony, harmful or heinous, So keep on writing and reading in WordPress…,
NHS not interested, rely on charities, You’ll change your opinion of hilarities, After your first session with a hypnotherapist, Hilarity, joy will go all minimalist… When scorned for the appointment you missed, You lose your watch and find it on your wrist, Problems will turn you into a hypothesist, You’ll consider suicide; you must resist!
Coming Soon: Part Two, How to cope! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
When I stirred in bed, all the signs were of having had a nocturnal seizure. The disorientation was so intense that I actually thought at first that I was going to fall out of bed! Getting out of it, slowly and carefully, proved to be a good idea. Dizzy Dennis and or Balance Loss pestered me for a few minutes. Soon to be joined by Cartilage Carol; she gave way a few times over the day, but no tumbles. A few close calls, though, she didn’t have me over, thankfully.
I had more mentally incapacitating mini-seizures today than ever before, very sparse notes on the memory pad, so this may be the shortest blog yet.
Still no SD card. I mentioned it to each caller, hoping one might say they will get me one and drop it off next time they call, but no one did. Still, it’s not their job. No complaints. So, no photos. Carer.
In the evening, Ejaz made his first call to me in several days, and I was pleased to see him.
What I thought at first was that a Community Nurse rang the intercom. When the gal got into the flat, I realised she was from the Cardiac DVT Warfarin Clinic. She used my tackle to take the BP, and her ear thermometer. Listened to my lungs. Some Cough-cough instructions. (Hehe!) The nurse insisted that I had to keep drinking water. Many questions were asked, but I’ve written all I can recall about the visit. Other than that, she was a cracker! (Naughty!)
At some time, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenführeress Warden, and Prima Ballerina, Warden Deana came in. She was on the yearly fact-updating mission. I had to change the Diabetic Dementia to the new (another name) Premorbid Cognitive Impairment. Then, Lymphorrhea Leslie and Little Inchies’ fungal lesion were added. The wound on the tip was caused by the Catheter tubing and the failure of carers to change the pouch weekly.
Can’t recall anything else with no notes to prompt me. Later in the day, I tried the old SD card again to take a shot of the meal – Blimey, it took it! So I took a shot of the sunset. I downloaded them to CorelDraw, put the card back in to take more, and the camera refused the card again. I tried again several times, but I got the card must be formatted message. Clicked to format (and lose all the photos).The camera could not format the SD card! I was lifted so much when the camera unexpectedly took the two pictures, but sank into a Darius Depression afterwards.
I thought Maggie Thatcher was cruel, But Starmer would win any duel. She was much more dynamical, Keir is more dishonest and cynical.
Starmer: is fault-disowning, in denial,
A fact-bending barrister, his morals questionable, His integrity is empty, his honesty dysfunctional,
His oaths & promises are easily self-deleteable,
His cheating & lies, empirically verifiable,
He is politically contentious and eristical.
Maggie was firmly in charge, esoterical,
Yet Starmer remains unchallenged, inalienable?
Keir became Prime Minister, via lies he’s inimical,
How he’s lasted in office. I find it inscrutable,
Why has no one yet found him shootable?
The Tories gave up, they’re not arousable… He does what he wants to, now he’s immarcescible, His personality is prominently kenspeckle…
Decision changing, unpredictable, mercurial,
Starmer is unpalatable, frightful, & objectionable. The opposition is miserable, wretched, pitiful,
I’d like to say Keir is also despicable & detestable, Voters by the millions are already agreeable, Starmer cannot be any more hateable, But Starmer seems bedded in & unremovable,
No one capable of taking over, that’s the trouble,
Surely someone can burst his arrogant bubble?
He already has the Nation feeling mausoleal,
He wants to turn his citizens all mephitical…
He is poisonous; things are getting critical,
A barrister, born immoral and unethical?
His rule is unlawful, his attitude awful,
Could this little outburst be excusable? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Eye eye, what’s going on here?
Moments in life’s uncontrollable adventure,
Each one is a logic, common sense alienator,
We’ve all had them, though not on our agenda,
Some serious, harmful, some have been absurder,
Like this old senile self-autobiographer,
Well known as a blabberer, boozer and blunderer,
My recent memory is patchier and blurrier…,
When I thought I was a female beguiler,
So long ago, those youthful memories; now clearer,
This event took place in Caernarvonshire,
I recall us snogging beneath a chandelier,
As she got bodily curioser, I felt cheerfuller,
The recalling stopped; in came Nimra, my Carer,
Nice gal, bossy, but with a pleasant demeanour.
She couldn’t be any prettier,
My hearing batteries died, so I was deafer,
My leg wound bled, I’d banged it on the dumbwaiter,
She pulled off the plaster, gently, with douceur,
It came time for her to disappear,
Then I had some pain from the urethra,
And then a few minutes-long seizure,
Eventually, I felt less schlumpier,
Recovered, did the Ode to the thimblerigger,
I asked myself, now, what were you doing?
I lost any thoughts of my being a sophomania,
I’d lost the plot of this Eye-Eye stanza,
Then gave up, and felt a little toeier! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Nocturnal catheter pouch.
Balcony walking aids.
The cartilages were dodgy all day.
Please forgive the mess this may end up as. Medical hassle three times this morning. One was with Lymphorrhoea Leslie; She’s losing body fluid again. I broke off part of another tooth, and Toothache Tiffany has been with me all day. I took a tumble in the wet room again. I didn’t go down all the way, but pulled off the shower curtain and hit my chin on the shower chair. At lunch, while awaiting Carer Ejaz for the house cleaning and laundry tasks, I had a mini-seizure that incapacitated my brain for a few minutes. I was on the verge of pressing the wristlet alarm for help. Fortunately, this was prevented by my leaving the alarm in the wet room earlier, and at that time, I was confident enough that my head had cleared enough to get my balance. But minutes, it was okay. Enough for me to use both sticks and fetch and fit the wristlet alarm from the wet room.
Carer Nimra did the first and third calls. Mizra, the afternoon call, and Carer Akeyo the fourth.
Carer Mizra arrived for the Wednesday extended visit, not Carer Ejaz, while I was cleaning the kitchen taps. The lad was a great help today, as my concentration was all over the place. I completed the above tasks on this blog very early. Thankfully. It’s also saving me some time, as I took a few photos early on. Could I find the AA batteries to replace the dead ones? Nope! So no more pictures. I know I had a box of them. I remember taking two out last week. Gawd knows where I put them. Grrr! Self-loathing! Mizra took the laundry down to the machine. I got a text message yesterday from the neurosurgeon section of the QMC hospital, and another this morning from DHL. I was a little baffled by the long links they gave in the text messages. I’ll ask Mizra to help me read & reply to them when he returns. He did this in a short time. Another savour, Carer Mizra. The DHL text required me to sign up again, providing extra details from the link. It took us a while to work out how to fill it in, but Mizra got it sorted, and eventually, he completed the mysterious re-signing procedure for me. They kept sending emails with codes… three times! Carer Mizra went down to put the laundry in the dryer and returned. We then looked at the hospital link. All they wanted to know was if I was still on for the Neurosurgeon visit? No date or time confirmation yet. One click and we’d got it done… well, Mizra had.
While sorting the email, I had a seizure. Another shortie. But when I returned to reality, I was far less confused than the earlier one… at least I think I was. Mizra then got the kitchen hoovered and mopped the floor for me.
Then he shot down to fetch the washing from the dryer. He was out of time, so Mizra had to rush to get the clothes hung up. Some of them were not quite thoroughly dried, mostly the socks. I put them on coat hangers, above the kitchen sink, to dry. No photo, of course. Where the heck did I put the batteries! Grrr! You fool, Inchie!
I tried to make an order for Asda, but the site kept freezing. So, I deleted the items that were ordered. And did one for J Sainsbury. I think I did, hang on, I’ll check. Yes, I did, a big one as well.
Oh, the DHL text, they wanted a photo of a safe area where they could leave any parcels, along with all the other details. Care Mizra saved the day yet again. Carer Mizra took a photo and emailed it to me. We used that. Thank you kindly, Mizra.
What a kerfuffle!
The ICC carers rang me late on. The Carer had been delayed. Will be late arriving. I was all calm and said, “Well, it can’t be helped.”
At last, I made a start on this blog. All I’d got done was up to the second Ode.
It’s now eleven o’clock. The need for food is calling – albeit not photographed. Where the heck did I put the batteries!
I couldn’t find my distance glasses for love or money.
I put on the prescription dark shades to watch TV.
I fell into bed and fell asleep easily.
Waking up in an After-Seizure-Condition (ASC).
I’d had nocturnal seizures, obviously.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = MAY YOUR DAY GO HAPPILY! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Photo from 2022.
When things were far less blue!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Gone is my logic, I’m no longer systematical,
A lot of what I do, I find incomprehensible,
It’s the new stuff that’s memory-dissolvable,
My new phone’s manual is incomprehensible,
The print is tiny, microscopic, unreadable,
I tried my magnifying glass, it was a travail…
I’d forget what I read that was readable,
The following page was also unmanifestible,
Grasping instructions was once so trivial…
Now I find them to be unconscionable,
Gladys Glaucoma make my vision all umbral,
I lose concentration, having to stop for a while,
To regularly deal with problems urothelial,
Then along comes another seizure, often focal,
Some ailments seem to me to be uncategorical,
To cope, I have to resist getting cynical,
Accept the illogical, don’t get hysterical,
My brain goes off-track, into the philosophical,
Reasons, causes, why… It’s all mystical,
Or should I have said then, mythical,
Help, understanding, all unascertainable,
I lose hours daily being self-rhetorical,
Over-understood problems, some medical,
Physical & Mental, possibly psychological,
Neurological? Neurotransmitters or Perceptional?
New ailments, the others still progressional,
I’m still here, I think that’s phenomenal,
Although the help I can afford is nominal,
Life has never been known as preconditional,
In fact, it is more likely to be probational,
It can be happy, hell, or promiseful,
Die young, be killed in war, or be put on a pedestal,
Do we go back to ashes? Nowhere, heaven or Hell?
I’d like to send Starmer a mine – antipersonnel! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PROLEGOMENA I was having an excellent sleep last night. Broken now and then by either Twitching-Neck-Ted or an Anne Gyna attack, but not very often. Until that is, the waking at 03:15hrs. Nothing special about it, but could I get back to sleep? No! This didn’t seem to bother me, and after a few minutes trying to nod off again, I gave up. Even Ann Gyna started to have a go at me when I freed myself of the clutches of the bed and bent down to release the nocturnal pouch from the catheter. Then I realised a Eureka moment was taking place. For the first time ever, I’d woken up with in attendance! I was in one of his ‘Sod-Them-All’ moods and became almost industrious. I got the dressing gown on, slippers and went into the kitchen on a safety check. Taps, fridge doors and stove were all okay. Even with Anne Gyna and Cartilage Chloe, both making hobbling around painful. I just didn’t care! YeeHaa! Heaven!
. I woke up at 03:15 hours, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Did the safety… Oh, I’ve just told you this already.
I changed the dates on the calendar clock. And used some toothache spray as the Toothache Tiffany kicked off.
I started updating (not a lot needed) and completed the blog, then posted it off.
I should have been, or rather would usually have been, in at least a semi-depressed stage with all the pains still emanating from my mouth, neck and being a smidge persistent. But I wasn’t in the slightest. I made my way to the wet room to use the facilities. Then, I sorted out the ablutions and medication. Even causing one of the messiest, wettest evacuations… also one of great pungeancy, foul, dark green. This one made me think of the Soylent Green movie. Have you ever seen this film? The name of the product itself is a portmanteau of soy and lentil, which is what it’s made of in the book. Soylent Green is introduced as being made of plankton, but as the film unfolds, the main character discovers that it’s manufactured from dead bodies. It was released in 1973. Starring Charlton Heston & Edward G Robinson. I recall thinking it was a relatively slow film, and politicians would never do anything like that. (Back in 1973) Now we have Herr Starmer, and Oligarch leaders, Murdering Putin & La-La Criminal Trump in charge. So… Got carried away again there, sorry.
The shaving went well, just three teeny-weenie nicks. Despite the teeth-cleaning being bloody, I was still feeling perky. The medicationing went grand. Only back flaps to ask the Carer to do for me… then, things took a turn for the worse…
As I stepped back from the floor cabinet, I trod on a tube of Savlon that I must have dropped earlier. Cartilage Chloe gave on me, and both knees his the floor together. Leaving me with Chloe on the left knee, and Arthur Itis attacking the right knee.
This did not bode well for me getting up again, and the wristlet alarm was on either the wire nest table or the floor cabinet. I couldn’t get up to search for it. The agony of getting back to the recliner on all fours, pressing the knees each time I nudged myself along, was excruciating. But I got there.
I failed so many times trying to get onto the recliner; it was just too painful on my cartilage and knees. Feeling a bit of a plonker, I made one final effort. I’d decided that if this doesn’t work, I’ll crawl back to the wet room to press the alarm; I’ve no option. Had I had more teeth left, I’d have gritted them… I girded my loins, and it took me a lot of suffering and effort, but I made it into the recliner.
Gawd, the relief! I stayed down for about ten minutes, building up the courage to cope with the pain in my knees as I stood up.
Obviously, I’d left the four-pronged walking stick in the wet room while I crawled to the recliner. But I keep a wooden one near the bed, so I used that.
My balance wasn’t too good.
Cleaned the mess in the wet room, collected the alarm and stick, and came back a lot easier by using two sticks. Replaced .
I did a good job getting up early!
I pressed on, surprised by how I coped with the results of the tumble. And started this blog.
I was taking an Anti-Trots capsule as the door chime chimed. No one came in, but I’d unlocked the door… or had I? Knowing me. I went to the door, and it was unlocked. Carer Jyoti arrived, I think.
Nimra tried to get the key from the wall safe. But I had the same luck as the other Carers. I explained to her that I’m having trouble getting the key out, too. Every time Warden Deana shows us how to do it, it works the first time. Hehehe! I asked Jyoti to put the diabetic socks on for me and to apply barrier cream to the back flaps. Also, she issued the medications and put my socks on.
After the girl left, I took a photo from the balcony on the right end. The mudslide looked thicker than usual this morning. Did heavy rain & wind play a part yesterday?
I had a nosey around the view. I took another shot of the same area when I thought I saw a bird in the mudslide. No rain today, and the wind was far less bothersome.
Worked away on this blog, at last.
I suddenly remembered that during the tumble, I had spotted something gold-coloured that had fallen behind the floor cabinet. I went to investigate, taking the long picker-upperer with me. I was astounded when I recognised it. It was a bottle of eau de cologne. I bought this eight years ago, from the Poundshop on Upper Parliament Street. But managed to lose it. It was down there all that time. Shows how the cleaner or Carer is not good at cleaning.
Back on today’s blog.
Raining again, but not a lot. No howling winds to put up with today. Having said that, my rear end…
Mild Vegetarian Curry,
With Gung Po sauce
and sweet corn.
Three Sky shots within 2 minutes of each other. Speedy sunset tonight.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A fair young maiden granted a date with Inchie,
‘Yes’, she said. Inchy thought in ambiguity,
A leg-pull? A tease? Inchie felt uneasy,
She spoke posh, not Nottinghamese,
Her legs, bum & breasts, I like these…
Surely this date would be paradise?
If I get more than a cuddle, that’d be nice,
She didn’t turn up, but sent her niece,
Big, solid gal, my type, her name was Bernice,
Long brown hair, strong and solidly heavy,
Within minutes, I knew she was my cup of tea,
No fears of riding pillion, at the back of me,
She grabbed for support, all over my body,
Her grip and wandering hands, happily…
Covered more than my midriff and knee!
She giggled and groped me incessantly,
We stopped at a roadside mobile noshery,
I went to get her a beeburger and a mug of tea,
We chatted, and she said she was a nursing auxiliary,
Gave me a kiss, said she’s off for a pee…
Patting Little Inchy, she shot off to the lavatory,
She didn’t return, never saw her again, sadly,
I searched but couldn’t find her, a worry,
Little Inchy was no longer acting accretionally,
When I went to pay for our burgers and tea,
Thinking back to her groping on the back of the Suzuki,
I realised she’d nicked my wallet & money! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs: I woke and tried to get back to sleep. But it was no good, so I decided to get the ablutions done early before a Carer arrives. Getting down to release the nocturnal catheter pouch was as painful as it has ever been. Three reasons for that: 1. The catheter tube is cruelly pulling on Little Inchy. 2. Bending brought on Dizzy Denis & Balance-Loss-Belinda. 3. The swollen Cartilage Chloe and Arthur Itis joined forces; they were so painful and bloated on the left knee. I got the bag freed, but am concerned about the loose release valve on the day pouch. I dribbled yesterday, when I assume I caught the longer lever, which has a 50% wobble. Checked the kitchen for safety, and went off to the Porcelain Throne evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge again. This time, dark brown, gooey and messy. The cleaning-up time was longer than the evacuation time, yet again.
I washed my dandies, emptied the urine pouch, and went into the kitchen to bag things. Taking this scene of the morning view. Not as pretty as yesterday’s. No pink in it at all.
Back to the wet room. Carried out the Ablutions and Medicating. The only real problems were Cartilage Chloe threatening to give way, and poor Little Inchy’s Fungal Lesion bleeding… or rather, applying the ointment to stop the bleeding. I’ve had much worse sessions overall, though.
Back in the kitchen, I put the waste bin bag into the big bag. Taking another shot of the same view from the kitchenette window.
In the balcony room, I changed the calendar clock and inserted the hearing aids into my earholes. And I realised I’dn’t altered the month; it was still July showing. I’d have thought someone would have noticed it. I got in a pickle last month with using the dates from this clock. Hehehe! I asked Ejaz to keep an eye on it.
I popped out on the balcony, nearly taking a tumble as Cartilage Chloe went on me. To take a snap or two.
The first one taken straight ahead, zoomed on the dwellings, drug dealers and growers, muggers, pickpockets and unemployed, immigrants, scroungers, drug gangs, freed burglars, murderers & child molesters on parole. But I’d sooner live here than anywhere near the biggest crook, liar, and unprincipled, corrupt, immoral, unscrupulous, dishonest, evil-intentioned, dishonourable, splenetic, nefarious, fiendish, detestable, deceitful, insincere, criminal, unethical, miscreant, and merciless, debased, ruthless, heartless, sepulchral, gut-churning, sick-making, murderer-freeing ex-barrister, Labour party principles destroying, apostate, reprobate, Herr ‘backhander-taking, disabled voters bankrupting, pensioner and farmer killing,’ Starmer. I just thought I’d like to mention my views.
The 2nd snap of Citrus Walk’s end car parking area. And the parking on the chevrons by the little red car. Haha!
I started blogging and was doing reasonably well for an hour or so.
Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications. Then got the diabetic socks fitted for me. During which I felt a sharp pain in the area of the right leg. This was followed by several small electric shocks shooting up the leg. I asked him to pull the sock down to have a look. He said some liquid is leaking through the skin. Ejaz applied barrier cream to it. We noticed after, and a small piece of skin was on the carpet, just an inch or so. I asked him to put some Phorpain Gel in the cartilages. This seemed to ease them a smidge, but they still kept threatening to fail on me. The left cartilage was still swollen. And the unmistakable pain from Arthur Itis joined in. Little monkeys!
A few more hours on the blog, but now I’m making the daftest of errors, costing me ages to spot and put right. Well, I think I got most of them.
A District Nurse came in, made me jump as well, as there was no door chime pressed. I think the gal was in a hurry. It was the same lady as last time.
She checked my rear end and reported it was much less red and on the mend. 🤎 She took a look at the leaking Lymphorrhea leg and deemed it a scratch from Ejaz putting the socks on, which should be no bother, but she took a photo of it. Bless her.
I took a snap from the kitchen of the windows. I forecast that it will be raining soon. Arthur Itis coming on is a sign of that. Back to the front room, and took another snap from the computer desk… well, the 1963-built, falling to pieces, tatty, scuffed, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off, to be more precise. Haha!
Ten minutes later, the howling winds and rain started. They are still here two hours later. I went onto the balcony later to take some photos. The wheelchair was soaked, as were the four and three-wheeled walkers! The gaps between the windows were how the rain got in. Again, it was coming from the East. The rain, I mean. The wind seemed to be churning in from all directions. Howling again. The rain is now worse than ever, and the wind seems to have died down a smidge. At least it’s not so noisy. Huh, minutes later, the wind was back. Blowing the trees and branches around as if they were made of paper.
It’s the wildlife I feel sorry for.
Ejaz just returned for a quick check-in call. He took a photo on his mobile, they have a great camera, of birds battling to keep their young from being blown out of the nest. I imagine many would have been at the height of the storm. Poor things.
The wind seems easier now, but the rain is filling the balcony up, and I can’t lift the broadwalks.
I went to the kitchen to sort out what meal to have. And the rain had stopped. So I went into the other room, grabbed Kodak Tim 2, and returned to take a snap of the sunshine. But no. The rain had started again. So I took shots of the rain from inside. One from the left window, and the second one from the right window.
I got some potatoes into the oven, and the rain had stopped again, along with the wind. Methinks maybe we might get a rainbow shortly. I put the photos onto the computer, and nipped back to check the potatoes.
Carer Ejaz did the medical call. Waking me up to go to the intercom to admit him. I asked him to take off the diabetic socks during this call instead of the last. Which he did. I keep falling asleep and getting woke up to let Ejaz in. Hehehe!
Meal of the day
I went to get the pots washed and took this snap of the sunset.
I fell blissfully asleep again.
Woken again to go to the intercom to admit Ejaz for his final call of the day. No need to remove the socks, of course, just has some Peptac. Ejaz checked the safety of the kitchen & wet room, and was off within 4 minutes. It was lovely for me not to delay him for once. Still tired out, I got down in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner.
But this time, Sweet Morpheus did not arrive. It was fitful dozing off and jumping awake for hours. I gave up and got up at 03:30hrs.
