– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’s ODE Called on by an acquisitor, investigator or burglar,
We deal with far too many an abrogator…
A Prime Minister who gives us apepsia,
Virgo Keir, who astrologers say is a charmer?
Who’s open to a bribe and/or backhander,
I’m sick of him saying his dad was a toolmaker.
: : : : :
Always something needed to clarify, certify…
Actions to decertify, destinkify, degunkify…,
Secrets, errors to reveal, declassify, demystify…
Questions, who, when, which & what’s the fee?
Higher, lower, how, who, too few, too many…
Will the earth die, with no petrol or electricity?
: : : : :
Keir hates farmers, & those on a pension,
Bad times for those with a medical affliction,
And for proletariats with ambition…
Why Keir’s not a Tory is beyond my comprehension,
As is his lack of socialism and compassion.
: : : : :
Some people can’t walk, hear or see…
People get addicted to drugs & go alcohol-free,
Some act naturally with hatred… aggressively,
Vandalism & bullying is annoyingly scary,
There’s a lack of control & abstinency,
Folk act violently to antiquity & authority…
We’ve known this was coming for years… sadly, The world’s end, I mean; then we’ll all be free! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:30hrs: I stirred but without the usual jumping and jerking. This was replaced this morning by . Well, it made a nice change for me. I got the removed and felt the need to check the kitchen. I had doubts about the verity of my last night’s checks on the state of the taps, stove, food fridge, and freezer doors. Apart from the kitchen looking a mess, I need not have bothered. There were no running taps, stoves left running, or taps (faucets) left on. I used the old camera (not that I had any choice left now) to take photos to see how they would come out. Oh dear! I took a wash and utilised the Porcelain Throne. At least the passing of the evacuation was far easier than when was in charge. But it was super messy and needed a lot of cleaning up. Which I did! Then I olive oiled the earholes and cleaned and creamed the affected left eye and lids. Put the lip salve on the mouth. Ointmentated the knees to help hopefully keep down the pains from , and of course, . I’m glad to say it has eased off already. Then, I did the nasty bit, getting the cream onto . Arghhh! I just laughed it off, of course. Ahem! I took some shots with the old camera, hoping to improve on yesterday’s earlier ones. As I opened CoelDraw and prepared to import, she gave me a dose of her moving pains in sequence. It felt as if it was running amok. I was close to pressing my wristlet alarm, and as I was getting ready to, things calmed down tremendously. It didn’t stop or anything ridiculous, but it was entirely bearable. I was collating the pictures and saw the one that I did last night. Here it is; I noticed the marks on the right-hand side. Then, I realised with the aid of the spyglass that it was all the way across. I hoped that today’s photos were not going to have it on them. All of this morning’s efforts were below standard for many reasons. Odd hue? Blurry. The hallway that was taken with the flash on?
Disappointing, to say the least.
I had to try again after I’d got dressed. Well, the night shot wasn’t too bad.
I finally made a start to yesterday’s blog update. There’s not much to do, so I posted it off, too!
arrived in good spirits. Medications were given, but she forgot about putting my diabetic socks on for me, I asked her to as well. But I was in a bit of a seizure at times, so my fault. I’ll ask her when she does the financial help visit. I got around to cleaning the used files and making a start on the graphics for this blog. Made her second visit. I was deep in a mini-seizure again. I recall bits of the call. She opened the email, only one of interest from the bank. It was filed in the box. The email help went good, I sense. A questionnaire was done, and other things, but I can’t recall what they were now. Ah, I asked her to ask the Wardens if they had made the loss of Bank Details yet; I was not rushing; I just needed to settle whether it was being done. said she would ask them and let me know. Bless her.
But I heard nothing. I assume that ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie were not in the office when she called.
I forgot about the diabetic socks again!
I’ve got this out of order. I think it happened earlier in the day.
The J Sainsbury order arrived.
I tried the camera again.
I took one of the things the driver had put in the boxes for me in the hallway. Some of the delivered goods were photoed. A pack of Protection Pants, JS’s own label, are on the left of this first photo. This includes air fresheners, shaving foam, razors, and food bags. Nigerian Garden peas and sliced red onions went in the fridge.
I think I’m missing some photos.
So I looked at the SD card, but they are not on it. Does that pee you off? Well, not you, but it does me. Humph! The photos were not very good, were they? If I can get the passwords from the Wardens, I may consider contacting the bank to see if I’ll be allowed to buy a new camera. Then again, maybe not. Waste not want not!
I’ve decided to have the same dinner as last night because I have some Sopocka left to use and one of the rolls to bake. I won’t have tomatoes, though; they are horrible this time of year. I think I’ll have some sauce, though.
OH, AGAIN!
The peristency of them got to me. I put the Community Nurses folder with the telephone number on the stand, so just in case, I’ll remember where I put it. And it’s written in large letters on the front of the folder.
Decentish shots to the left of the kitchenette window were taken here, methinks. I do a lot of that, thinking... I do a lot of gorgetting, as well. Possibly a little more than thinking and remembering.
Then, I took this fairly good photograph to the left of the kitchen window.
This camera! The lousy shots, then decent ones. I must ask Tim Price what a ‘P’ on the camera selector button stands for.
Cut off the attacks instantly. She’s not been back since the same time that replaced her as the primary ailment of the moment. I’m fed up with this change all the time. Still, it makes for variety, I suppose. The cracked lips are improving, and not a single volt has shot up my right leg for three hours! Great!
Well, I’m sick of listening to my own moaning!
Cracking on with this blog, and I heard a noise through the Baby Monitor – but could not understand what was being said.
I got the wooden walking stick and went to the door. Opened it, but nobody was lurking. Luckily, as I turned around, I hit my shoulder on the door frame, which gave me some grief. Had she not, I would never have found the packet that someone had put on the top of the heater. It was the top-up prescription that Carer Richard had ordered for me on Monday. The chemist had popped it through the door without ringing the bell. Again!Hehe! I walked to the kitchen to put them in the medical drawer; a beautiful night view was available. Carer took a couple of shots, hoping to catch whatever it was high in the sky. Was it the moon? It was so tiny. It might have been Jupiter or Venus? But if it was either, where was the moon? You can only just see it in the sky in these pictures.
I also wondered what the red thing was in the top photo?
These came out reasonably well.
I took them all with the ‘P’ options selected. The inside photos didn’t come out as well, did they?
The Carer lent me his camera on loan! I took the following shots and those in the morning with it. Well, he took the first two tonight during his last visit to me. I’ve got it until midday tomorrow. It’s being collected. So, on Thursday’s blog, the only shots will be those taken in the morning. I told him I was nervous about dropping my Canon, and he said, No problem. You can buy me a new one—smilingly! With my record with cameras, I am sooo Weary!
Well, it’s late now and time to make myself some nosh. Oh, no! I’ll answer any comments on WP Reader first.
Eventually, I got the nosh made.
I didn’t make it into the bed. I tried to stay up late to watch the football highlights on the BBC. That didn’t work, of course.
I drifted off about five minutes into the footy. Woke up about an hour after the programme had finished.
And went back into slumberland!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sayonara
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What are you? What kind of achiever? What would you be if you weren’t a skiver? An autoworker, auctioneer or autobiographer… An archiver, aspirer, or an awe-giver? Backpacker, baker, ballbreaker… Banker, billposter, beggar or bedmaker? Cheesemaker, contractor or counterfeiter… A Chauffeur, croupier, or courier? A grave-digger, drug-taker, drugmaker… Murderer or some kind of doctor? Lift engineer, mayhap an Egyptologer… Driving test examiner, an art exhibiter? Fortune teller, foot-soldier, or fraudster? A gardener, food gatherer, gamekeeper? A house-sitter, work on a Helter Skelter? Interpreter, inventor, or interviewer… Ironmonger, investor, immigrant importer? A jailer, janitor, jitterbugger, or jester? Kindergartener, or a kettledrummer ? Lamplighter, lawyer, or do liposculpture? Microbrewer, or full-time Father/Mother… Microbrewer or full-time malingerer? A weed-neutraliser, maybe narcotrafficker… A military officer or a Newspaper obiter? Paperhanger, photographer, prize-fighter… A pilferer, plasterer or psychobabbler? Quantity surveyor or quartermaster? A reupholsterer, a Brexit renegotiater… Maintain a roller-coaster or racketeer? Schoolteacher, or work in a shoe store… Be a seismographer or a speechwriter… Market stallholder, mayhap a speedskater? A BP sphygmomanometer operator… An actor like Arnold Schwarzenegger… Possibly become a stripteaser… Streaker, shoplifter or stationmaster? A trumpeter, toastmaster or toymaker… Toreador, tax-gatherer, world traveller? A uranographer, become chairman of Unilever? A passport validator, or maybe a vintner… A furniture varnisher or a beach voltigeur? A basket weaver or a whoremaster? Work for Starmer as his yeasayer? A politician and or a Parole Boarder? You’ll learn how to be a freeloader, A bullshitter, wanker & hobnobber, Backhander-taker, hatemonger, & hornswoggler, A farmer & pensioner-impoverisher! If you fawn to & backhand Starmer… Your career will eventually stutter… As the end comes for Herr Starmer, He’ll blame every pensioner, He’ll blame every family farmer, He may lie his way to be a survivor? Starmer’s an excellent scammer & schemer, Did I mention how much I hate Starmer?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I awoke this merry morning and pottered about, photographing the nocturnal pouch and a few morning views. Then, after an hour or so, I realised I had not taken any falls, walked into anything, or dropped anything. My bleeding groin area was far less painful than yesterday, and the shave was a bloodless affair. Of course, medicating was as painful as it usually was.
But overall, it was a fantastic start to the day. I was expecting my beloved Nurse Hristina to call to take my blood. Apart from medicating the lesion, I naturally sang away as I launched the computer to finish yesterday’s blog.
I soon had the blog done and posted. (Still singing away to myself as I plodded on). I went on CorelDraw to prepare for up, loading the ten or so photographs I’d carefully taken. DANGKNANGLES! The Kodak camera had taken only two of the pictures! The first one had gone into the ether.
The second, the collated waste bag, was on the SD card. The card was in the camera; I recall taking it out and into the computer thingy, but there were no more shots! BUT NOTHING ELSE!
I went to check on the tiny inner file. Nothing was on it.
I retook some shots of the views, ensuring the card was back in the Kodak. I took several snaps. When I returned to upload it to the computer, nothing went through. Then, I noticed the camera did not light up when I put it on again. Stupid me!
Obviously, the batteries had died.
I put in new batteries and tried again. Nothing RIP to yet another camera!
Then, how did it take the second shot but not the first or those that followed? Was it all a part of the mysteries of the Woodthorpe Court’s Sinister Spirit’s master plan? To raise the devil, spread wonders, blunders, rodomontades, fears and descenders from the comfort of semi-sanity, with me almost in a good mood, into a gibbering wreck!
I spent hours trying to figure out what had gone wrong. I got six more batteries and replaced the first ones I had put in. No, there was no life! Then, I put two batteries into the torch, and they worked, eliminating the dead battery idea.
A break for my mind when Nurse Hristina arrived to take the blood. It’s lovely when she comes. ♥
Two caregivers, well the same Caregiver, came twice; Carer Chloe, one for medications, and one for domestic.
I settled for a photoless blog (All bar the one); I had no choice and insufficient cash yet to get a replacement. Depressed, dispirited and pissed off, I started doing today’s blog ode, then the top graphics.
I kept looking at the camera, thinking it must be something I’d done wrong. But it was a no-go every time I tried. And I tried so many times, sort of hoping!
At my lowest point, when I had the least interest in continuing the blog, it happened: Ailment number four kicked off. Flared up. My confidence faded, my depression got more profound, and the roaming chest pains settled in for about a solid five hours this afternoon, well into the early evening.
What a last three days I’ve had. The two tumbles on Sunday, thanks to the bleeding from the groin par, put the mockers on Monday. Tuesday and the Kodak broke my heart by packing up on me. And gives me hell. I suppose I could order a camera from Amazon… Ah, I did that last time, so I must have one somewhere that is battery-powered… A futile spurt of hope arose!
I searched everywhere without any joy in finding it. Slowly, it dawned on me that the camera had been dropped down the waste chute while I tried to take a shot of the tube inside when it was first fitted.
I’m going to get something to eat and think about my situation. I heated a part-baked long cob with tomatoes and Sopocka, using no butter, butter.
I changed my mind and looked at the cameras on Amazon. They were far too expensive. I’ll wait until my pension goes into the bank and how much there is before spending to get a better one. Or give up altogether.
This reminds me that I still can’t access the bank account until Warden Julie gives me all the details she kindly took to sort and print out for me.
The carer came and examined both cameras. He said they were both dead, but the cheap one may work if I recharge it. It’s possible that the connection was loose when I recharged it yesterday. So, I charged it again, ensuring the plugs were solidly in place and the blue recharging light lit up.
No medications were needed. He removed my socks, picked up a drink and nibble, and went home. Thanking him.
I was settled to watch TV when I remembered I had not eaten anything yet. I went through a hard battle against my desire for sleep and got up to make a meal. I got as far as the door, and in the dark, I could see the flashing blue charging light on the camera. So, that told me that the camera was fully charged when it failed. I took it off the charger and meandered into the kitchen, and after making my meal, I tried to take a photo of it. GOTTEN HIMMEL It Worked!
I tried again on the evening view… Wunderbar!!!
Note: The morrow morning, all pleased with myself, I used the miraculously working old camera again.
You will see the disastrous quality dip in the quality of the resulting pictures on Wednesday’s blog. I was very disappointed. I may get better results late in the day, but I think that is because I have more misled hope than faith.
Sir Keir and wife Victoria beam after bagging free £4000 Taylor Swift tickets: In summer 2023, Sir Keir was treated to a week in accommodation for four people in beauty spot the Gower Peninsula worth £4,500.
While planning his lies-ridden election triumph in July, Sir Keir welcomed many gifts and hospitality with open arms, including designer clothes, glasses, and tickets to several football matches. Keir and his wife, Ms Reeves and Rayner, also received donations for work outfits. In June, the deputy prime minister, Ms Rayner, received a £3,550 donation for work clothing from Lord Alli. Rachel Reeves £380k freebie and payments as she scrapped pensioners’ Winter Fuel Allowance.
In October 2023 and February 2024, he was given £10,000 and then £6,000 respectively from Lord Alli.
In April, Lord Ali gave Keir £16,200 for ‘Work Clothing’ £16,200.
Sir Keir has also received accommodation worth £20,437 between May 29 before the election and July 13 after the win.
Lord Alli treated Sir Keir’s wife, Victoria, to approximately £5K worth of clothes. The clothes are understood to have been at Lord Alli’s £18 million London penthouse, which would have cost £444 per night if he had stayed there daily.
Accommodation for four on the Gower Peninsula. Set up by Rod Lloyd. Value: £4.400.
Arsenal fan Sir Keir received tickets and hospitality totalling around £19,000 for twelve football matches from August 2023 to June this year, including nine when his beloved London Arsenal team was playing.
Sir Keir enjoyed a Taylor Swift concert in the Premier League. As for social events, Sir Keir was one of five Labour MPs who declared freebies at Taylor Swift concerts.
The Prime Minister declared the gift of four hospitality tickets from the Premier League to see the Shake It Off singer at Wembley Stadium in June, at an estimated value of £4,000.
Sir Keir also received four tickets to the Jingle Bell Ball with hospitality from Global Media and Entertainment Ltd. last December, worth £800.
In May, the National Theatre treated Keir to four tickets to see Nye worth £358.
The only freebie not accepted was a bottle of Vinegar from Nottingham blogger Inchy. Rejected when it was discovered it contained arsenic. Value: 49p
Sir Keir’s Football Freebies Since August 2023:
Crystal Palace Football Club – Three tickets with hospitality for Crystal Palace v Arsenal, valued at £2,142
Swansea City AFC – Five tickets with hospitality for Swansea City v Bournemouth, valued at £800
Cain International UK Services Ltd – Two tickets with hospitality to the Chelsea vs Arsenal football match, valued at £2,400
Teescraft Engineering Ltd – Four tickets with hospitality for Newcastle United v Arsenal, valued at £1,000
West Ham United Football Club – Two tickets for pre-match hospitality in the Chairperson Lounge and to the match, valued at £2,000 (estimated)
Norwich City Football Club – Four match tickets and hospitality, valued at £820
Premier League – Five tickets with hospitality to Arsenal vs Porto, value £3,000
Manchester City Football Club – Hospitality and match tickets for two people to Man City vs Arsenal, valued at £900.
Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club, four tickets and hospitality to Brighton vs Arsenal, valued at £500.
Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club – Four tickets and hospitality to Arsenal vs Wolverhampton Wanderers value £1,488 (approximate)
Tottenham Hotspur Ltd – Five tickets and hospitality to Tottenham Hotspur vs Arsenal, value £2,500 (approx).
Manchester United: Two tickets in the Directors Box, with dining at Old Trafford. v Arsenal. Valued at £1800.
The only freebie rejected was a bottle of Vinegar offered by blogger Inchy. It was found to contain arsenic. Value 39p
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TO BE OR NOT TO BE… To be or not to be beheaded… Be hung, poisoned or electrocuted,
Shot, walk the plank or be guillotined,
For you have killed, murdered…
The UK death penalty was abolished,
Life sentence, murderers are pleased,
After 3 years, many have been released,
Now, HMP workers are beleaguered,
Freeing killers just to save money,
I know it will lead to anarchy,
Murderers are just let free early,
To kill again, by HMG; approvingly!
They’ve tried things, therapeutically,
Chop off rapist choppers antiseptically,
Else, there’ll be disorder, catastrophe,
Pandemonium, bedlam, antipathy,
Course, this is only advisory…
Could we start with someone miserly?
By winter’s end, he’ll have killed so many,
I refer, to Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer,
Who I hear wears a willie-warmer…
Keir will have murdered many a pensioner,
By the end of this freezing winter,
Drove to suicide many a farmer,
His defence? He’s caught habromania?
The man’s a shyster, & a proven liar,
I’m sorry if I sound like an inveigher,
We must get rid of this political vulture,
If we don’t stop him, he’ll kill more for sure,
I advise him to wear his Kevlar!
I’m a bit of transcendental augurer, But indications of the future for Starmer, It is vague & as confusing as Keir’s hylomania, It’s hard to read such a hornswoggler… I’ve been depressed so heretofore, Suddenly, I want to live longer… Long enough to see him go to the hereafter! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I returned to an imitation, pseudo-pretend life at 04:00hrs, with the regular springing awake and waiting for Diabetic Doreen to sort out my cerebrum and get that to work in a guise or manner that would allow me to realise that it was really 04:00hrs and work out what day it was. Then, I tackled the nocturnal catheter pouch disconnecting. Which was a more straightforward job this morning. Since I’d drifted off to sleep in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner last night, and didn’t make it to the bed. Carer Chris, who did the last call last night. Christ got the large quilt from the bed and over me. He knew I would never get to the bed, he said, this morning. Apparently, I was in a seizure when he arrived. I was muttering, struggling to get words out, and not really with it. The lad’s reading me now that he knows about my ailments and how they sometimes affect me.
I grabbed and limped into the kitchen, with a sudden feeling from my EQ that I may have left the taps running, the fridge or freezer door open, or the oven on last night in my overtired slumber. EQ is rarely wrong. Sadly, he wasn’t this morning, either. Getting into that kitchen gave me more than one surprise this morning. First, the windows had iced up, the temperature was -5°c, and the freezer door had, as I feared, been left open! I had to throw away some of the partially defrosted food. On the bright side, less food went into the bin than when I left the freezer door ajar last time. (Two days ago) Tsk! For the outside of the window glass, I got some paper towelling and wiped it to see through it. And there, even for my eyes to see, high in the sky, was the Moon and two planets in view, Jupiter and Venus, if I remember correctly. Despite the freezing ice on my hands and in the air, I decided to get the Kodak to try and get a decent shot of the Moon and planets. These are the best of them to make it to the SD card. Four did not? I still can’t determine what I’m doing wrong to make so many photographs disappear. I looked into the internal photos on the camera, but they were not there. I could see the planets in every shot I took; I had my reading glasses on to see the screen on the Kodak camera. However, some, like the SD card, did not reach the end product again. Yet some did, turning up on the SD card. Was it instilled and installed by the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which I’m already battling with Diabetic Doreen Dementia and Cogniscent Impairment Iris, to keep my marbles? Unglesitknangles!
I meandered to the wet room, returned to make sure I’d shut the freezer door after cleaning up, returned to the wet room, and deposited myself on the WC. Where I stayed for a while. Because an “It’ll come anytime now” type of sensation lingered for ages. All I managed to clear was several incontrollable blasts of wind. So, I gave up, despite that nagging doubt that it just may spurt of its own accord remained with me. I had a wash & shave, medicated various body parts in need, got fresh PPs on, and made up the waste bags. (The photo didn’t show on the SD card – Humph!)
Whatever happened to the day? Where did it go? I recall Carer Joanne coming, and we were having a laugh.
I know I had just a few of earlier, I thought I was in one when Joanne was here. But she said nothing. When we were both laughing at my struggle to get words out and forgetting what I was talking about, as we joked and laughed, I’m sure of it. Well… Later, while taking a break from the arduosity of getting the blog done, I checked the camera and a photo I knew nothing about until I viewed it, and it came back to me. Anyway, here it is. The frost and ice are still there, and at 1°c, I’m not surprised. The balcony door cracked as the ice fell off. Not looking too good.
I made a JS order for next week. Tried to keep it low, but as usual, I had to go over the £40 limit in case they had something out of stock. That puts me in line for a delivery charge.
Back on the blog, I realised that they were coming thick and fast. Some seemed to last only a few seconds, and I felt giddiness a few times between each one. But I coped with them in the morning without any real bother, which I find positive. When they first started hitting me, they fritted and unsettled me. Now, this change is getting me a smidge worried. I’ll phone 111 in the morning, no, on Monday, and ask for advice.
On a more positive note, tonight, my urine is a much better, lighter colour. It still stinks, though. I must get on with the blog. I’m taking too long on the odes or making them too long. Even two days ago, I worked on one until three in the morning. I can’t help it. I love doing them. Sad, because they’re not good.
The sun did come out today, as it was about to disappear over the horizon. The frost is now mostly melted, but not in the areas the sun did not reach. I thought at first that they looked like snow clouds. When Carer Chris came, I heated a steak pastie, told him it would soon snow, and showed him this picture of the clouds. He looked at his computer on his phone, and the weather forecast didn’t mention snow. So much for my humble and wrong predictions. Hahaha!
I continued with this blog. Amazingly, gave me rest after Chris had been and medicated me, had his nibble and a can of pop. It took him about ten seconds to see off the steak pastie. It was unexpected to him, and he enjoyed it so much. Which cheered me up, too.
I was not doing very well in the concentration stakes, then, aha, another summoning from the innards arrived; Get yourself to the wet room post haste! So I did just that. But it was all in vain again! I must have spent another half-hour on the Throne. Grunting as I tried my bestest to urge and encourage something to move… But no! For the second time today, Zilch moved. I’m hoping that by taking a prescription powder immediately, I shall have a third visit, which might be a success. Otherwise, especially after eating my meal later on, my innards may just blow up or explode!
I’m getting beyond the capability of concentration now. I shall maketh a meal. Blimey, the higher clouds have changed so much now. Still beautiful.
Meatless pork sausages, chestnuts, and tomatoes. Six slices of Milk Roll bread, one for each sausage, and a dip of BBQ Tomato ketchup. Two desserts: Lemon and custard and jelly.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – BONUS STARMER BASHING ODE! Don’t let Starmer get you depressed, Despite pensioners he attacked, In free-clothes, he gets dressed, And the lies that he’s amassed, Starmer, being a backhander & biased… The farmers he has tax-bushwhacked, As PM, he should be uninstalled, The man is totally unscrupled, The Torie are beyond being annealed, Leaving Starmer with an open field… To do as he likes, unimpeded, At no.10, he’s firmly bivouacked, His lies & gift-taking have been obsignated, Surely he must now be prescited? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Farewell, & Look after Yourself. If farmer or pensioner cause… STARMER WON’T!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – When I snuff it, will I get theosophy? Or be greeted by nothingness, dimly? I don’t ask these questions grimly, Will St Peter be there to greet me? Will I be sent to Heaven of Hell… Is there a difference? Who can tell? Will Hell be running a brothel…Does Does Heaven have a mosque or Chapel? What will they do to a dead infidel, Will I see Hitler or Oliver Cromwell, Will I still have a catheter bag or navel? Are Heaven & Hell both topological? Sometimes, I hope they will be real? Will they both be parallel or mutual? Will they serve tea, coffee or oenomel? Will we see Angels, anything celestial? Will we see relatives or a pet poodle? Grizelda, will we be able to canoodle? Get reborn to see another crepuscle? Will the St. Peters interview be conflictual? Have to go through a validity ritual? Have the same problems cardiological? Will Dementia still be in situ, cerebral? Arthur Itis, FND, PN be there? It’s credible, Will we at least resemble being corporeal? Will we be negative, nervous, or joyful? Whether Hell or Heaven, dying is awful, Being sent back to earth is too stressful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Went to Kip late. Got up late again at 06:00hrs Nocturnal pouch removed.
I amalgamated three of the waste bags into one.
First-morning view from the kitchen. Not too good. I tried to get a decent shot of Devonshire Ave. I didn’t manage it. Tsk! Temp -3ºc.
Food Delivery. Sods, bread rolls, sausages & fresh peas. I had to empty the box of battered fish balls into the freezer to get them to fit in it!
The fridge is not as full this time, but still too full! I got some of the beef in gravy in a pouch again. Yeehaa!
A fine mix of fodder. Beef in stout gravy, sausages, pasties, tomatoes, frank’s, jacket and roasting potatoes, & jellies.
Carer Chris arrived. He did his thing and was about to put on the diabetic socks, but I stopped him and said I was going to do my ablutions and shower first. He told me he would make the next call and get the socks and catheter contraption replaced then. But he did not come! Luckily, Carer Joeanne did; she fitted the catheter and put my socks on for me.
In between , they were a bit more bothersome again, but they seemed to keep giving me little breaks now and then. How kind.
Over the next hour, I took three shots of the sky.
I was miles behind with the blogging but persevered, as any other young, athletic, fit, good-looking man would.
Sunsetting.
It’s getting late, dark, it’s getting colder…
Time for some fodder.
Beef in stout gravy, sausages, potatoes. Two cheesy bread rolls to soak up the gravy.
Washed up, and as I climbed into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, Sweet Morpheus took me. A few minutes of bliss enveloped me…. not only that, but was noticeable by his absence! Then Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, gently mind. Without me moving, he put the nocturnal catheter bag on. Gave me the medication and seemed to drift off, like an angel back to the clouds. I had been drinking shandy after the meal, so I may have been mildly tipsy; I don’t know. More likely that I was under the influence of . It all felt surreal.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Life is like an avenue, Lined with hatred, little affettuoso, Filled with the unexpected blanscue, Daily selections of bugaboo… Oligarach rule, the financial hullaballo, Conning the proletariat & ingenue, Rulers rulings, decisions are impromptu.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN, Best to all of you!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The fleetingness of life, so often a worry…
Well, it was years ago, death? Not in a hurry,
But existence now is endured abrasively,
Manipulated by the rich, the Oligarchy,
No race is safe, Peruvian, Welsh or Aussie,
One thing humankind perfected is bigotry,
Another is war, killing mercilessly…
Wars, for some, show profitability,
The greed, hatred, jealousy and irony,
Rulers lead, aloof, so conceitedly,
Faith, hope, love entwined with devilry,
Gone is eloquency, cometh exorbitancy,
Some exist thanks to eleemosynary,
Others believe in & practice diablery,
Some will see their end euphorically!
A few accept it, but sycophantishly,
I greet it as being somnipathy…
Death, commonsense, but with speciosity,
I’ve not lived brainlessly, injudiciously,
I’d had my moments of irresponsibility,
Albeit, at times, a smidge unintelligently,
My brain once worked reliably…
Doreen Dementia turned it into sciosophy,
Now it works partly-theoretically,
I can no longer have sex or even pee…
Do you think I’m searching for sympathy?
Of this, I may well be found guilty!
I am available as a Grandfather adoptee, I make a grand mug of Glengettie tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SISTER JANE & INCHY 1952ish SISTER JANE & INCHY2018ish
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke around 04:00hrs. I lay there in the hospital bed, doing my darndest to get back to sleep. Refusing to get up and face the world, I was determined to nod off again. Unfortunately, came on strong. I spent until 05:45hrs in misery, feeling incapable, lost, and guilty, self-hatred, confident-shattering thoughts bought up in response to TST’s ever-nagging, fault-finding, insulting torrent of bad memories. 05:50:hrs, I gave up trying to sleep.
After removing the nocturnal catheter pouch, I saw this one was a 7 on the NHS Urinometer Scale. Got myself up on my feet, the usual complaints from and . And were the worst of the ailments initially.
I grabbed it and set off for the wet room, I needed the Throne. Fearing another session with pain was imminent after the rock-hard torpedo evacuation yesterday. I gritted my teeth as I sat on the plastic seat… This was unexpected; the Karki mush splattered everywhere and was finished within a few seconds. This was so quick I anticipated a second helping would follow shortly. I removed the thick Protection Pants from Amazon, only to find I’d made a mess all over the mats and floor. The inner padding had split open again! What a mess! I cleaned the splashed-over WC basin but could not vacuum over the mats and floor as it was too early. I hate the thought that I might disturb my neighbours. Got some fresh PPs on. Now, I must remember to clean the room later – I logged in with the brain to record this message. Which was hopeful, if not futile. Of course, I didn’t remember! (As of 23:10hrs)
After washing up after the session, the hands looked much improved compared to Wednesday’s. Carer Sam thinks it must be something I used for cleaning.
I went to the kitchen to check the taps, cooker, fridge, and freezer doors. All were okay this morning. Then, I took three photos of the morning sky. The first one, I think, was blurry as I didn’t expect it to be so cold out there. The outside thermometer read -3°c. The second of roughly the same view came out better. Then I noticed two planets in the sky, the left one bigger than the right one… or was it the other way around. I’m confused cause I could not see them in the photos taken. I did my best to get a closer shot of the planets. I think Tim Price said they would have been Venus & Pluto. Not a reasonable effort or result. Mayhap I rushed this one cause I was getting cold. Hehe!
I changed into a thicker, warmer dressing gown and changed the day, date and time on my super new Korean 1969-made calendar clock.
Carer Sam arrived. We had a little laugh and nattering session. Then, we sorted out my medications and put on my diabetic socks. All are recorded in the log.
I took this photo of the bottom field below the tree copse, barren of people and dogs. A rarity indeed! The temperature had gone up to -2°c. I checked on the pickled mushroom and water chestnuts in the fridge. I think they need a day or two longer, and I added a bit of basil to the jar.
Carer Same returned. Tablets only this time. I took an extra effervescent paracetomal and Codiene 30g. Because had been joined and assisted in giving me pain by . Who was back on form with her chest wandering stabs of pain. I would have to be the two top pain-givers at the same time. Minutes after writing these words, started tugging, ‘Well, fancy said’, I said.
I dug out some Cortesteroid cream, girded my loins, and rubbed in the bream. I may have cursed a smidgeon and nearly spat. Something like ‘Oh, bother it!”
I caught sight of the state of the leading junk room. This needs urgent rectification. Tidying up, sorting out. This reminded me of the wetroom that needs some attention cleaning-wise as well. I’ve not done any of them as yet. But at least I’ve made plans to do them! Ahem!
The sun is coming out now. But it doesn’t seem to be melting the rooftops yet. I’ll look at the temperature… it shows as 0.1°c.
I got the blog for Wednesday updated and posted. I started on CorelDraw to set up the photos taken this morning. For some reason, whatever that is, CorelDraw is really going mega-slow. I ran CCleaner, hoping things would improve. I did the same via Norton straight afterwards. These runs cost me over an hour to get done. Coreldraw is still slow, but I think it is not as slow as initially. Then again, what do I know.
I started on this blog a long time ago. But it was slow-going, and later, I showed the pictures of the fire on Wednesday’s blog to Carer Christopher when he arrived. I found six grammar or spelling errors that I’d missed. I corrected them somewhat belatedly. Maybe I should just cut it down to a Cartoon, the BP, and a daily ode? But I love waffling and doing this diary.
, and , all three, which had eased off a little, all returned with a vengeance. I lost another hour or so, so concentrating on the blog was impossible. I pottered about in the kitchen doing nothing much but convinced myself I was.
17:35hrs: Carer Christopher arrived on the next-to-last call of the day. He sorted the medications. I showed him the photos of the fire and found all the mistakes I’d made in Wednesday’s blog that needed correcting. Brungleclogs! Incredibly, the lad gets calls from Nigeria every time he calls. How the World has changed. I recall having to find a telephone box, ensuring I had three pennies to use. Press button A, and if the call did not get through or answered, press button B to get my 3d back. Stack of telephone number books in there. The posters were adorned with sex-workers numbers, among others. That distinctive smell was present in all telephone boxes.
Ah, memories!
I must press on with this blog. Excuse me while I do. An hour has passed, and I feel overdrained and somewhat hungry. Tired & kicked in again! Sob!
Battered Fish Balls… With Marmite cheese, pickled beetroot, cheese-topped bread rolls with no-butter butter, & slices of tomatoes. Followed by a cream lime dessert. And very tasty, it was too! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Take Care & Keep Safe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My biggest current hated one is Starmer,
Prospective murderer of every pensioner…
Over-taxing every single farmer,
Our UK leader, food shortage creator,
Labour Party standards & morals abolisher,
Lady Starmer shops at Harrods, not Asda,
He’s started the UK exodus, the diaspora,
Couldn’t give a toss about the poorer,
I’d love to kick him in his detrusor!
He’s a deceitful and clever truth-denier
A freebooter, ever seeking a backhander,
An out-of-order denunciator,
His talks are klutzier, a send-to-sleeper!
Blaming others for his faults, a derogator,
He thinks he’s superior, an exemplar…
A political King, a Simon Templar,
Listening to him yak, installs longueur,
Starmer’s budget was a villain’s charter,
I believe he’s infected with Cherophobia…
Except when taking a political sweetener,
He’s no vivifier but often a vilifier!
Not a captivator, more a verbal chloroformer,
The best manipulative political by-omission liar!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke up with the regulation jerk and jump. I got on the side of the hospital bed and tackled, freeing the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Kimberly told me it was 6 on the NHS Richter scale card. Then I looked at the clock, seeing it was only 0350 hrs. I pondered getting back into bed, but the innards started rumbling and grumbling at that moment.
So, I rose to hobble to the wet room, quite carefully at first, as she was a little delicate, and I feared she may give way in me. This thought was forgotten as soon as I’d thought of it! The rear-end motion began to move of its own accord! . And I hobbled at my best attainable rate to the wet room… I didn’t make it in time. . I don’t need to go into any detail, do I?
20 minutes later, I cleaned up the mess, sprayed the room with air freshener and went out of the wet room door… I hit the door frame with my right shoulder as gave way. Perfect timing from Carole. Kicked off, naturally. But physically, I am used to this happening. Mentally, I get annoyed and angry, especially following the automatic-style evacuation.
Making it worse, I had to put on the bulky protection pants in case it happened again. Tchah!
To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. Why should this calm me down? I don’t understand, but many folks do the same.
I saw the snow through the kitchenette window. The photo did not come out well. So I bravely went out onto the balcony to take more pictures of the state of the roads. Starting with the front car park.
Then I opened the left end window to take this shot on the left of the car park further along Chestnut Way Finally, through the right end window of the end car park. After trapping my finger and closing the window, I wondered how many I’d had until now. I think I’d only been up for an hour; what else is in store for me? Hehehe!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a fresh brew of Glengettie tea. I took it to the main junk room and to the computer thingy.
Adjusted my relic of a clock calendar’s day and date. And a real rarity here… I dunked four of my favourite cookies in the tea without any of the biscuits getting dropped.
Seconds later… , . I knocked the tea mug off the desk, dropping it into the waste bin.
Surely this farce can’t go on any further? Still, getting them out of the way early in the day is best.
So, I cleaned it up and then collated the waste bins into one bag. And with no further calamities, mishaps, or !
Kicked off within minutes of me getting on with the blog. Thankfully, they were short, but so many of them over the next four hours.
Carer Shaq arrived. He had an inkling that I was not right, although I don’t think I had any when he was here. I did tell him later about them, though. He sorted the medications and adorned me with diabetic socks. We had a natter, but what about is anyone’s guess.
I went back to blogging and continued. I felt I was working well, but of course I wasn’t. Each time I returned to mock-life, I checked what had been done while I was in La-La Land, finding errors every time. Thus, it took me far too long to get it done. But I got there eventually.
I stopped to take some more pictures of the weather-bashed view. This was of the bottom field below the tree copse. Some kids had gotten plastic sleighs out and were having fun. I got the Kodak out when I saw the kids, but they had gone by the time I returned to the window. (Is this Possibly an unnoticed seizure?) No wonder I’m concerned about taking a bus and walking in traffic. Being housebound—well, flatbound—benefits someone in my condition. Haha! I made another brew of tea, Co-op 99, this time. Since it looked like just past 2 p.m. on the clock, I resisted any biscuits.
I grafted on with this blog, but I’m not getting very far very quickly, even though the frequency has slightly decreased. Anyway, the things I noticed after the event were all short-term affairs, which suits me.
I made yet another brew, Glengettie, this time. But I left it to mash for a few minutes and forgot about it. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberley called. She kindly put some cream on my bleeding lips and nose. I had not noticed. It’s not unusual for the pain from cracked lips and gums or for other pains, but I didn’t realise how much they were bleeding. Bless Her ♥. The £599.00 /100 ml Toothache pain relief spray is so effective. Thankfully, I still have some in-store to use, and I use them.
Blimey, I saw the fog descending as I returned the mug to the kitchenette. There had been cold winds, a bit of rain, then snow, and the fog was coming on. Almost eyra looking. As I write this, I just glanced at the balcony, and the fog is even thicker now. Mind you, I think I’m getting thicker—physically and mentally.
Hello, is having a go at me now. A persistent little Madam as well.
Long, well, massive periods of Mind-Blanks.
Scary that I did not know what had happened for hours.
I’ll see what fodder in the fridge and freezer can attract me to my earlier-than-usual desire for food.
The fish in batter appealed. But with frequent momentary visits from , I had the nonce not to risk fancy cooking. But I fancied these battered fish, so I risked cooking them in the mini-oven, making sure that I was doing nothing else so I could concentrate and not move from the kitchen all the time they were cooking, and I checked on them all the time. I was then aware of burn and fire risk limitations.
I ate all these without any bread—just some peas—and they were enjoyed immensely. I cleared and cleaned up. Then, I settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, and turned on the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV.
I tried to put on the Oligarch’s Fibre rediculously exspensive full-of-repeats Virgin Media TV. But it would not let me. No Signal came up about 2000 times in response to pressing the button. So I gave up. I was getting weary of this.
Despite Dizzy Dennis, & Confusion Konrad, Tired-Out-Inchy won the battle and drifted off to sleep.
Carer Richard woke me up to make the last call of the day. I was in the right state! Mumbling and knowing I was doing so this time. I fear things did not go well. I’ve no idea why.
Richard departed, and I floated back into heavenly sleep. Just a few moments of waking up, I blissfully returned to the land of nod each time.
My medicationing & ablutions were completed, My hands looked blotchy, bony, extravasated, Cadaveric, but I wasn’t bothered or over-wherrited,
Suddenly, my Grim Reaper visited,
What we discussed, we both quadrated,
Aren’t you ready yet, Inchy? he obsecrated,
I smiled at him, and he nictated,
I asked him if dying was time-obligated…
How’d you like me to go: Run over & be mangulated?
Grim said it didn’t matter, perhaps being lapidated?
Well, I said, I’ve spent already being dilapidated,
We laughed when I said I wanted to be cremated
Grim said, Supposed you’ll die fully intestated?
Grim asked, had I managed to get trothplighted,
I replied, no, I’m still waiting to be dated,
I reminded him of the ailments I’d collected…
Grim asked; Have you become hypocondriated?
Inchy: No, but my ailments had escalated,
Grim: Well, you are getting on and dated! Inchy; All tellurians do that, I elucidated, Grim: Yes… You’re right, they all get elided, Inchy: I reckon it’s time to die, I Wikipediaed, Grim: I’m sorry, you’re not due to snuff it yet! Inchy; Oh, how much longer then will I get, Grim: Your life should really be revered, Inchy; It’s been failures & mistakes punctuated! Grim: Yes, St Peter may get you relocated… Let you try again; that’d be splendid, Inchy; No, I want that idea permanently suspended,
Grim: You’re still depressed! I thought you’d recovered. To Be Continued… – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not a lot, but very dark.
Food Delivery.
Morning sunshine.
Afternoon.
Afternoon.
Early sunset.
I didn’t wake until 0630 hrs. The intercom chimed out as I lay there waiting for my brain to engage. It was a JS order.
The Carer arrived. Medications & finance were examined.
Carer checking details of doctor’s letter.
Computer on. I spent four hours updating errors I found in my Ode word listing. Humph!
The morning, as far as seizures, Electric Shocking Sandra and even Anne Gyna, went well. Back-Pain Brenda, Cartilage Chloe, Toothache Tiffany & the Cracked Lips Leslie made up for the lack of pains.
As the seizure kicked of, the District Matron arrived. Body check and weighing: I shan’t tell you about the massive increase in weight. But I have to say, with my legs and arms so skinny lately, the mass is from the midriff and bladder, methinks. Told Jackie about my problems with getting the Catheter Contraption bags. She will order some for me. Lovely to see a nurse now and then.
Glady Glacoma started to blur and distort my vision. I was glad I’d got the Ode list updated first.
Carer Sam arrived; I told her about the two missed calls over the holiday, not making any issues. I remember what it was like every Christmas and New Year when staff did not come in when I was a security controller. A nightmare scenario for me then and others now.
I totally lost about two hours. But I seemed to carry on with the blog, and when things cleared, I lost another hour sorting out the mistakes I’d made. It still puzzles me how this happens.
I lost the long-distance spectacles.
Although I can’t clearly recall doing an ablution, I knew I had, for I was smelling nice and in a different dressing gown and hat. And no Protection Pants, which tells me one or other, Chloe or Carol’s cartilages must have been playing up to prevent me from getting them on. Some unwarranted idea that I had taken off the glasses all that time ago made me investigate the wet room to see if I’d left them there. Another nagging semi-thought was that they are always kept in the main junk room near the TV and computer, but I had no luck finding them.
Carer Christopher arrived. Med’s given a little natter and drinkie.
I was looking forward to these beef sausages. I went to great lengths to get them cooked just how I like them; well done. Just sausages and bread, with pickle-flavoured tomato ketchup to dip them in. Oh, yes, I used the new mini oven. Funny, isn’t it? How many mini-things do I have? Mini-Seizures, a mini-cooker, a mini air cooker. Take TrZmini tablets, have a mini bank account, and an ultra mini-appendage.
I ate most of the sausages, which smelled good but did not taste very pleasant. I will not rebuy them. He says, confident that he’ll remember not to.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART ONE⅝ On my last visit to the Porcelain Throne, Bleeding from my rear bottom, I’m prone… No Carer called this morning, I was all alone, Missed taking my Beta-blocker, Betamethasone, I pondered on this while I was abluting… But had to get on with my shaving, It’s New Year’s Day, a Carer will soon be calling, It takes time to recover from over-boozing, Twitching-Neck-Ted, hurt my collarbone… I can take Codeines while all alone, But not the Beta blockers, or Prednisone, I can rub in the cream, Hydrocortisone, Phorpain & barrier cream on my private’s zone, Can’t take the Finasteride, or Atorvastatin, Omeprazole, Carers watch me taking, Yes, the Carer will soon be appearing… My Carer, who came at noon, was very caring… But this is not unusual or over-alarming, Covering holidays is difficult & frustrating, Ailments? Parts of me were pulsating & shaking, The worst is the pain near the breastbone, That’s why I took a Betamethasone, But the toothache was barely aching! Electric Shock Sheida; hardly any stinging, My vision was hampered by Gladys Glaucoma, Moving chest pains, I blame them on Anne Gyna, I had cramps, Little Inchie was bleeding, Oh, I must take my Amoxicillin!
PART TWO¾ I wondered if Starmer is still lying & cheating? Would he ever stop his backsheeshing? I heard him blaming Tories, badmouthing… He’s certainly not appealing, just appalling, After fringe benefits, influence-peddling, Schmears, kickbacks, open fiddling! Bribes, sweeteners, is anyone checking? On his hush-money & bung investing? See his expenses for number crunching? So often, the Oligarch’s been caught lying, He’s like a Tory, I’m not guessing… Pensioners & farmers will be dying… He’ll be denying blame for the bloodletting, He makes time for self-wealth searching… He is an overblown urchin! A snotbag, Grade-1. But I’m fibbing, His habit of voters & union disregarding… It will make proletariats’ life more gruelling! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART THREE⅘th I begged guidance from those in the tabernacle, Why did I fail? In things mental & physical? I once found life was easy, enjoyable, a doddle, Now, at nearly 80, there’s no one to cuddle… I was genuine and loved being charitable, PN, Arthritis, Cramps made me xenarthral, Dementia, memory, seizures are awful, Now, I find life is inexplicable, theoretical, I loved a natter, gossip or twattle… Seeing and hearing can be a battle, Daily complications with my catheter tackle, I can no longer voluntarily piddle, My aorta valve is made of plastic & metal… I feel as if I do not fit in anything tellural, Success is no longer there or accomplishable, Depressions are now giving me trouble, Around 1969, life burst my bubble… I don’t exactly walk; it is more of a hobble, I was theistical, but it is now there’s so little, Confusion, delusion, constant refusal… Lies, murders, killings, wars, tarradiddle, With Herr Killer Starmer on the fiddle! Every nation’s decisions are incomprehensible… to each other, and inscrutable, dubitable, Earth’s leaders, moraless, in a shemozzle, Oligarchs, criminals so sybaritical, I’ve become a loser and comical… Old age is the sum of a riddle! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I grafted to catch up on the blog mess after getting to bed around 0400hrs THIS morning. I got my head down for three hours and had to get up for the Carer to arrive. No Carer Arrived. Had to guess at the medications because I’ve not sorted them myself for many months. Also, I can no longer read the label instructions of the writing in the carer record book. I Pottered about not getting onto the computer because I may not have heard if the intercom went off if I had. So, I’ve had two missed calls on the trot! And had to gamble with the medications. I’ll know later if I got them wrong. Tsk!
A quickie blog from here on, as it is now 2100hrs, and I’ve to do the ablutions yet and get summat to eat. It’ll be morning again before I get to sleep. I’ll rush. It’s not been a good year up to now.
. Release valveless nocturnal pouch.
Waste bins sorted.
Reet rainin’ this mornin’.
Phor!
End car park mudslide.
No Carer arrived, which is the same as last night. Essential to get the medications right. But I could not read the labels.
Topped up the Nurses’ and carers’ treat box of nibbles. Wonder if I’ll ever see a Carer again. Hehehe!
I made a brew, then changed the clock calendar and got it on the computer to make a belated start on the blog.
I found two snaps that I took last night and forgot to put the SD card into the camera. Better late than never.
At midday, Carer Chloe arrived. I explained that the last two Carer calls were not made last night and this morning. Well, New Year Booze, Mayhap? Har-Har!
Kicked off. Thankfully, I had some pain spray for the teeth. It does ease things a bit.
Teatime views.
I’d spent a lot of time doing the odes at the top. And got little else done for hours. Carer Promise arrived. Medications given.
The legs looked better than yesterday. I’ll not mention the fungal lesion that’s being tugged at by the catheter tube bleeding. Oh, I did! Hehehe!
A better shot of Devonshire Avenue. It seems to be well-lit compared to the other roads?
Nosh-Time now. I regret to inform you that, once again, the picture taken of the cheesy potato, mushrooms and garden peas meal has done a bunk from Kodak’s SD card. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – For me, a gal must ooze pulchritudinous, It matters not if she is or isn’t punctilious… Precarious, precautious, or even predaceous! As long as she’s not pompous or pretentious, She can show practicalness or be pecunious, Be prosperous, silly, or pugnacious, Be pretentious, previous, or procacious, For one to attract me, she must be plumptious, No need for her to be clever or perspicacious I’m not after bodily prettiness, As long as she likes a laugh and is pervious, I pray she’ll not be disloyal or perfidious, A septuagenarian, & a smidge mischievous! I could buy us a couple of paragliders, Sorry if that sounded a smidge perverse,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a bad fall when I reached this stage, so I called it Part One and posted it off. An hour or so later, the nurse called, tending to the burst bag and bleeding from the tumble. Bless Her♥. I’ve made a brew of Glengettie and am starting again from here. I doubt if I’ll get this finished before midnight… well, I won’t. I wanted to stay awake to take the celebration fireworks at midnight, but I fear it may be too much. I’m praying that the seizures leave me alone. Depression creeping in again! – – – I’ll press on – Seizures and if the catheter allows it. – – – I’ve had a couple of bad days. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:30hrs: I grumblingly rose from the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Knowing that after yesterday’s farcicalness, I had a busy day ahead of me. The morning’s Carer, then the domestic Carer, the food delivery, the INR Warfarin Nurse Hristina, and the midday Carer, and I was so far behind with the blogging I didn’t think I’d get yesterday done, let alone start on today. (Just the usual bleak morning moan to myself, nowadays) Little did I know what I had in store, or I may not have bothered getting up! I wish I hadn’t got up now, but not then. I think I got that right?
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. This is one of them I had to buy cause of the mess up and lack of help with my ordering. Some do have a drainage clip that has no drainage tube. Took it to the WC and used scissors to cut and drain the pouch. Still, it was no bother and went okay. As I got to the kitchen to get the kettle on, the innards grumbled and rumbled; in response, I returned hastily to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence was now back in full control! The evacuated product funked awful. It took me ages to clean up the splatters from my clothes and the china.
I got the ablutions, a stand-up shave, teggies, body scrub, oiled the earholes, and drops in the eyes. Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Barrier Creamed the Acne & Eczema. Then Porpain Gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cartilage Carol & Chloe’s knees, the underbelly lesions & underarms. I couldn’t reach Phorpain Gel Back Pain Brenda; I was going to ask someone, a Carer, when they came next. But of course, I forgot all about it, even when she was playing me up! I’m forgetting more each day! Into the kitchen. I tried to get some decent shots of the views on offer through the window. But the photos didn’t come out very well. Not up to even my low standards. The last one I took of the houses on Cavendish Avenue was one of my biggest photograph failers ever. No idea what I did wrong, but Surely I must have done something wrong to get this terrible result on the right?
I returned to the wet room to ensure I hadn’t left the taps running. As I came out, the intercom chirped at me. I could not see who it was, so I thought it might be the deliveryman with the oh-so-expensive night catheters I’d had to order. But no! It turned out that it was Friday’s (as I thought) JS order. Fancy me getting things wrong like that! The driver kindly put the food in carriers and my boxes and then carried them to the kitchen for me. Kind of him. Spent a lot of cash this time! Mushrooms for pickling later on. Jamaica patties, a lamb and a beef one. Pork Pie, no-butter butter, Cornish Pasties, tomatoes, cream cake treats, and some horrendously pricey garden peas from Nigeria. I love these! Marmite Rice cakes, cheesy-topped rolls, a bag of sea salt & cider crisps and Marmite crisps. A bottle of mulled wine. Reduced to clear after Christmas. A large bottle, cans of Sainsbury’s cider, and a bottle of washing-up liquid.
I took this snap of myself inside the main junk room, looking through the balcony doors and blowing my nose. Then took the photo below as the day slowly dawned, and turned brighter. I sorted the waste bags to make room near the doorway; no carer had taken them. So, I took them to the chute and found an empty box there, just like Christopher had taken away from the flat yesterday. I put the three bags down the chute and broke the box up, which also went in. I hobbled back to the flat foyer, and as I did, it gave way to me, and I walked into the foyer door frame. I believe I said, “Well, fancy that!”
Carer Chloe arrived as I was about to put the food away after the photography session. She gave me medications, and I was lucky—yes! Although I didn’t realise it, and Chloe didn’t notice it, I’d dropped a tablet while taking them. Chloe said she was doing the Domestic visit and would be back later. I walked her to the door. When I got back in, and at long last on the computer, I espied a tablet I’d dropped on the carpet. And a good job, too; it was a beta-blocker! Not one to miss.
It was a mental battle trying to sort out what was what and what needed doing with having yesterday’s to do yet.
Chloe returned to do the domestic run. I started to place an order for next week from Asda, but again, it would not let me get on the site. Grrr!
I struggled to communicate with Chloe, yet I always seemed to be waffling and losing track. Then, my beloved Nurse Hristina arrived while Chloe was hoovering the hallway for me. What a triple blessing it was that she came! When I told her about the farce of running out of night catheters and buying them, she found the number to ring, then called them for me on her mobile, too! ♥ I’d mentioned to her earlier that the cotton wool-looking material came through the tube from the bladder and got stuck, causing the uncomfortable flow back sensation. Hristina told whoever she was talking to, and they told her that it would be a bladder infection and that they would send a nurse to see me when they got back from the New Year Break and ordered the catheters straight away, wanting to know why the Carers had not contacted her. Hristina then showed me how to open the night bag to drain it! Worth her weight in gold she is! The most patient and understanding nurse I’ve ever known. 💛 She helped me today more than anyone else has in weeks. Hristina left, leaving a respectful and appreciative Inchy.
Carer Sam did the middle call. We laughed about things I was going through, which helped me cope.
Carer Joanne 💛, on her way home, called to see me. She collected the not machine-washable laundry. I insisted she pick up a bottle of her choice as a New Year’s treat. (I did the same with each Carer today) She said that her elderly neighbour had gone to the hospital, so she was late in collecting the washing. I can tell you that a woman who takes, hand washes, and returns my nightwear and brings it back for me is yet another angel I’ve acquired. My sort of gal, too.
I managed about five minutes on the blog, and the landline chimed up. The call was from Sister Jane. Not heard from her for a while. All the best for the new year sort of thing. But had a good chat. Jane & Pete are going to the pantomime shortly. She was sorting the food, and Pete the booze. Hehehe! The natter brought up memories to share between us, all good or neutral ones, though. Nowt unnice!
I tried to get some more done on the blog. The landline chirruped again. It was from the Doctor’s surgery receptionist. She advised me of this morning’s blood test result (Gawd, that was quick). Apparently, the INR level plummeted from 3.2 to 2.6, which is not good. The medication doses were also increased. I wrote the details on Google Calendar.
Then, back to have another go at this blog. Life seems like an awful slog! I waited for my brain to defog, Then I had an in-the-bog! I emptied the pouch, cleaned and flushed the WC, and turned to leave. As I went through the door, I accidentally shoulder-charged the door frame. Apart from triggering Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, I let slip a few vulgar words that I shall not repeat here.
I returned to the computer again and finished about 15 minutes of work. The door chime chimed out! En route to the door, this time, Cartilage Carole gave way. I opened the door, and to my delight, the postman was working late and delivering my eBay-bought nocturnal catheters! We had a chinwag, as we both have catheters, but he has the latest ones, which look so painless to wear; I was jealous when he told me the other week about it. He is being sent supplies that have built up, and he has too many! Another twitch of jealousy crept in; Hahaha! He kindly told me that if I was ever running so low again, I was to put a note on the door, ‘Barry, I’m short on night catheters’. He even checked on my catheter to ensure the tubing was the same size. What a kind, thoughtful gentleman he is! I gathered the items needed to make the pickled mushrooms. got the mushroom in the slow cooker, on a high heat,
Hope it works okay.
Going to take a photo of the evening sky, this time it was who went on me. Most unfortunately, I clunked down onto the left knee with a sickening thud, and once again, I gave a clouting . The Catheter Day pouch took a good hit but surprisingly did not split open. Even more amazingly, as I was about to get back into the main junk room and the recliner to get back up again, I grabbed the sink side and got up; painfully, but I got up! Within a minute of getting down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, to recover from the fall and Phorpain gell certain areas, knees, back and where I could reach of the shoulder.
And the doorbell sounded its version of ‘Oh, Susana’. It was a Community Nurse. She’s come in response to Nurse Hristina’s telephone call to look at my wedding tackle area regarding the cause of the bladder infections. I went into a deep seizure while we were talking. I thought she had Phorpain gelled my back and for me. I’m unsure what else occurred, but I was deeply out of it. But she seemed happy enough when she left, as I was returning to near normality. Well, that may be pushing it! Ah, she did give me a painkiller, I think… waylay that, now I’m writing this, I’m not so sure… something in my warped mind tells me she did. But, in the malaise of my muddled mind.
I sat still and quiet for a while. Then got back on the computer… Carer Chris arrived. No socks were taken off, and I was going to stay up to try to take some fireworks photos. He was given medications. I treated him to his bottle and cream cakes early, as he said he was not doing the late call. But no one made the late call. Well, it is nearly New Year’s Day.
It is now 5 minutes to midnight. I will hobble into the kitchen, camera around my neck, and await the hour.
It is now 0015hrs and the New Year! Photographs have been taken of the fireworks. Now, to see if I can get them on the computer. When I opened the window, the gusty winds blew in the just-starting rain! I’ve had to disrobe myself of the now wet bobcap and dressing gown! Humph! Hope the camera is okay!
Here Are NYD Firework Photos Taken
Art Decko?
Electric Art?
A bit of both?
Well, what can I say?
. I was getting wetter!
Ah, well, I did my best!
Ah, better get the mushrooms into the pickle jar. I would have a pastie, peas and chips for my morning meal. But I’m too worn out to bother now.
What a busy day again. I thought I retired 15 years ago?
0330hrs: Drained beyond belief. But hunger took a grip. Cooking is not easy when one is mentally and physically drained. Sometimes, one burns one’s vegetable pate, as seen below. Hehe! But I ate it all!
I went to get the pots and dishes washed. My eyes were almost closing as I did this. Then, as I had the light on and looked out of the window, I thought a final photo was called for to try and get a reflection shot of the kitchen, still seeing the relentless rain and me. But of course, you can’t photo wind. Hehe! I dragged myself into the junk room and deposited my tired, weary body and brain in the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner.
As no late Carer had arrived, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. Then, I ate a pot of jelly, put the TV on to catch the news, and planned to move into the hospital bed. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen. I’d nodded off into bliss within seconds of the TV adverts starting. Woke up with a jump later, turned off the TV, cleaned up raspberry jelly from my bulbous mountainous belly, and rejoined Sweet Morpheus. Where I stayed until 06:15hrs. Not a long kip, but it was much needed. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Despite the continuing Whoopsiedangleplops, Mishaps and Accifauxas of the last four days, today had some lovely touching moments that were well appreciated. The amazing Nurse Hristinas helping above and beyond. The kind postman’s offer over the night catheter bags. The community nurse called to check on me. Again, I won’t mention the many failings, irritations, and annoyances I suffered. I’m sick of hearing myself moan! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I just had to copy this one! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s so important to hang on to hope, I thought of this today when I awoke, Without him, life is all upslope, You should keep him on a tightrope, Have you ever caught a single raindrop? Shouted for help from the rooftop? Lost your thoughts while taking a troke? Caught flu, COVID, shingles or croup? Did you have a heart op or a cystoscope? Been shot, imprisoned or had amblyope? Are you deaf, neurotic or have deuteranope? A catheter fitted? Had an oesophagoscope? Your feet & ankles turned a deep heliotrope? Is it different every single time you poop? Does Peripheral Neuropathy make you quoke? If something goes right, do you glope? Do you stutter or make the odd malaprop? Do all others consider you a fruitloop? To counter these things, you need hope, You must attain it, try mentally to evoke, Hope? I’ve never met the bloke! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A cold health alert has been issued for the East Midlands, warning them that an upcoming cold spell could affect vulnerable people and cause a rise in pensioner deaths. No doubt Pensioner-killer Starmer will be tickle-pink – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It seems I’ll have to get used to every night’s sleep being broken, and the abysmal lack of rest and peace will undoubtedly see me off earlier than I expected visiting St Peter. What with our beloved PM, who robbed me of my Cold Weather Allowance? And the caregivers forgot to put my diabetic socks on again. Brrr! Still, it’ll unquestionably please the living-ready reckoner beyond the reach of any moderator, who’s a hot shot at jiggling truth and data... I mean, of course, the conspiratorial, surreptitious, duplicitous Herr Heil Starmer! Sorry about that, I got a smidgeon carried away there.
I began the battle to get out of the bed. Back-Pain-Brenda and Cartilages Chloe & Carole were unhappy being forced to move at 0500hrs. I noticed there was not much in the Ncturnal night pouch this morning. At first, I was most satisfied to see the bright colour, but when I got around to emptying it, I realised that it was one of the new ones that eBay had delivered last night. These were much cheaper than the others available but did not have a release valve. Also, the PVC, or plastic bag, was much thinner, and the urine was much darker as I cut the bag. Can’t win’em all!
I got into the kitchenette to check things; no taps had been left on, and no doors or windows were left open. I avoided going into a . The sky was fog and mist-free! That’s because the snow and ice will be brewing from Storm Darrach, bringing Red Warnings for Wind and Snow. Apparently, the lowest temperature recorded in Nottingham was −13.3 °C (8.1 °F) on 13 January 1987 and 23 January 1963. That’ll cheer up amphibologically-trained murderer Starmer. I can see it now; “200 Nottingham pensioners died in last night’s storm.” Herr backhander-taking Starmer was told, he replied, “So?”
I am so frustrated and angry! After being free of them for so long, I’d worked on this blog for nine hours off and on when the Seizures started. I was so close to finishing it when they came. I felt things were getting more manageable and more transparent, and I expected to find some errors as I seemed to have been doing it for hours while under the influence. After coming around, what I saw made me so irate and self-condemnatory! I am still stewing inside and not in a suitable mode or mood to do much! I am feeling frustrated and depressed! I could almost cry now, my temper had calmed down. Hello, it’s returning with a vengeance… I scrolled to see what cock-ups I’d made… And somehow or other, I found I’d published the blog. But even worse, I must have put it in the WP bin! Then I discovered that over 2 thirds of the work I’d done was no longer on the editor when I retrieved it. All those hours of concentration amidst seizures – Gone! It’s late and dark now. But I shall try to put some more on, but there’s no heart in it. All that work! Of course, to save space in my memory, I deleted some photographs saving space. My self-anger is building up again as I type. The sky is red, and I had to force myself to get up to take a photo; that’s not me, this isn’t me. Have I died? and am having a final nightmare? All that stuff I’d done. Some witty, some sarcastic. But it was all a little entertaining, I thought. There were many insults about Starmer – but not now. I’m even nervous to try again. Thoroughly depressed beforehand. Knowing it could happen again if the seizures or shakes return. I’m heartbroken, I think. I’m going to have to think about this. What to do?
Well, I’ve ‘thunk’.
I’ll not have time to reproduce the same quality as the old blog. I’ll probably never again produce one with the same wit and hilarity as the original. This makes it so much harder to cope with; it was a rare cracking blog. And I was so happy with it.
What the hell went wrong? I’ll not even try to get it as good… well, I can’t now in this mood, and there’s no time to try anyway. Depression is far too weak a word for how I feel at this precise moment in time. I’ll use my few notes and photos, but as I said, there is no heart in it after what I call the ‘Sodding-seizure-to-blame’ disaster. It’ll likely all be out of sync chronologically. I can’t remember the whats, whens and whys now – And I’m not all that bothered either. It could be messy.
I’ll do my bestest, but it’ll not be good.
Starting the second try… Waste bags sorted.
Carer Richard, Carer Chloe. The last two were Carer Promise.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Bloody and nearly 8500ml worth!
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Cobblers.
I just looked on CorelDraw, and I think a few original photos were on the page—I’m sure they were—but not a Bloody one! What the hell had I been doing?
Say no more…
No record to use for two more hours.
The night shots I had to force myself to take.
Carer Promise came. In a rush, but he did listen to my moaning about myself and the computer cock-ups. Thanks, Promise.
Worries about what I wrote on the first blog… It took me such a long time to select the wording, but I have no time now, so this will be, in short – a shame. I even smiled at the original moans when I wrote it.
Current concerns;
Getting the hearing aids mended.
I have to book an appointment. The Caregiver said they don’t, so it’s up to me to do it. So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone and get an appointment…
Then I have to ring Easy-Link to book a lift to and from the audio centre… So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone
If they can’t fit me in…
I have to call the audio centre to cancel the appointment and get another one made. That would be great if I could miraculously hear whoever was on the phone. Then, I’ll have to call Easy-Link again to see if they can get it for me that day—if I can miraculously hear them on the phone. Huh!
It’s a Circus – round & round I go… getting anywhere? No!
Six weeks now, I’ve still not got my hearing aids mended!
Another problem is that the nocturnal catheter pouches are not arriving. Richard told me I had to phone the District nurses.
If I can miraculously hear them on the phone.
An unexpected box arrived last week. Thanks to Dementia Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I thought the box contained the night bags.
I got down to the last night’s pouch.
Ended up spending a small fortune getting some pouches from eBay and Amazon. Luckily, Amazon arrived on Monday; eBay should arrive on Tuesday. The ones I have now do not have any release valve on them, but they were two-thirds the cost of the EBay ones. Carer Kara used to manage all these things for me; she was a blessing, not in disguise.
I had written three more problems, I think, on the first blog, but I can’t remember what they were at the moment.
Nosh! Despite my low spirits, I countered them by telling myself that whatever lousy luck I suffered, I must deserve it. I should accept these Accifauxpa & Whoopsiedangleplops without all my childish moaning and groaning, self-castigating episodes.
What you give is often what you get – despite not knowing precisely what it is, I must be guilty of it with my luck. Did you know I did the lottery for a couple of years, my neighbour, Jock, won 18 times in 1978. I never won a sausage. So, the sins I committed must have occurred before then. I lost the plot again there, sorry.
I still enjoyed this mini feast.
