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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,

Haha!
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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!

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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.
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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!
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Hope you have a better year! (Not Starmer) TTFN.