– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Each day brings new challenges: Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Seizures, Errors, Mistakes, and of course, Failures and Depression. This has to be coped with, I know this. It’s possible to accept these daily trials, because I also know there is no way of changing things. Docile-Subserviency is my only defence, well, it’s not even that really. There is no protection, no shield from lousy luck. One option, I suppose, is to go crazy… mind you, I’m on my way there now. You could not write a fictional diary with so much bad luck as I suffer diurnally in real life. There’s an element of humour within this tale of woe. I can’t find it yet, thought. But it’s there, maybe conjured from within my watered brain, Dementia Doreen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, or my previously famed resistance to depression. But of course, I can ask them for guidance, but getting a reply is a bit hopeful. Hehe! However, silly as it may sound, I think there is a better chance of getting an answer from these ailments than from Social Services. I was going to get help with the wheelchair problems, my computer problems, my financial problems, water on the brain problems and Neurological assessment and treatments… none have arrived yet. Still, I may live long enough for just the odd one to come? Which one would I like it to be? Erm… well, perhaps, or not, maybe… anyone would be of help. Chances of getting any? Zilch comes to mind. But, you never know, I might get surprised? On the other hand, my recent medical history says none, with a loud inner voice. Shame! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Woke at 04:55hrs. Night bag removed, and into the wetroom for a stand-up body scrum, teggies, a shave, this did not take place, then some medicationalisationing of my inner and outer extremities. Totally, at that time, I got dressed and went into the kitchen to take some shots of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. Again, hoping to take a decent one at least. The second was better. Got on the computer, but ran into complications again. From MS Word, CorelDraw and Google. No idea why things were acting up like they were. So many aspects were misfiring. Space bar not working, then came on again. CorelDraw froze. I got a message from MS re: Excel, but could not grasp the technicalities, so closed the window and then all the others and left it for a while before trying to boot again. Went to make a brew, returned and reset the calendar clock, and gingerly, but hopefully, turned the computer on. Nothing happened? The lights were lit? I meandered back to the kitchen in the full grip of . I took this snap of the slowly lightening sky. It was not a bad one this time. Compared to what my one eye saw and how the picture turned out. To say I was feeling so low and in a fair degree of depression, I noted this. I reckon I was convinced the computer had thrown in the towel, angry at all the failed promises of help that never arrived, and had resigned myself to it. Back to the computer and turned it on. This time, noticing the external drive thingamajig was flashing away at a fair pace. Took a snap of it, I’ve not got the foggiest idea why. The computer booted up, and the working light continued. I think it might be MS Excel and Word updating something? I waited 30 minutes for the flashing to stop, then opened Google and CorelDRAW. Ah, that’s better, things seem to be working correctly, well, as near to properly as one can expect from bug-ridden, overcharging CorelDraw. My attention was interrupted by a text message on my mobile phone. Ah, hopefully that will be the night catheters ordered by my Carer last Wednesday. (It was). I was tickled pink when the computer came on again and had a visit from . Which proved enjoyable and rid me of worry. But also this rare but welcome ‘Sod-Em-All’ sensation that comes with Horis’s attendance, caused me to wander off the plot, and I spent over three hours plus, working on the much missed ‘lost-but-no-idea-how’ word-list recreating. Was I bothered at the time? Nope! I regretted it in the morning when I realised I had done absolutely nothing on this blog and had to start from scratch. Yet I thought I had made a start? I suppose I can blame .
Then, I had the longest-ever seizure that I can remember. I estimate that it was for three hours, and the day had gone! The Carer was ringing as I was recovering from the effects of the visit into the unknown. My part-drunk mug of tea was stone cold, my body half hanging out of the chair; I reckon I was lucky not to fall off it. Yet the after effects, compared to a mini-seizure, were piffle; I was back near normal, within seconds, and the acrid taste coming up from the innards was barely noticeable. Carer gave me my medications, rubbed some pain gel in the right knee and was off, bless him.
The District Nurse arrived. I’m always glad when this happens. She’d come to check on my right leg and but saw the state of my left arm, and proceeded in a no-nonsense manner to pick out the dried blood and lymph blobules, clean it and put a plaster on. Telling me (with a smile), she had not come to do this, just your leg. Then she moved onto the leg; whipped off the diabetic strapping, pulled down the under-sock, and removed the blood-soaked plaster, cleaned it and put a new plaster over it. I thanked her and off she went on her rounds. I bade her farewell. This is when abandoned me, and . And stayed for the rest of the night.
This Is Spunk A New Mexico resident who dwells with a large clowder of cats. Don’t let the cute expression fool you. He is the leader of the group and his paperatzzi owner, Tim. No doubting it, he’s a handsome one. Although please don’t tell other furries that I said so. Hehe! 😹🤎
I overcooked my oven chips a little (a little? Hehehe!) That was after going through the whole packet of chips, especially selecting the small ones that would cook faster, as hunger was starting to get the best of me. I knew I’d just got to run a sweep of the computer with CCleaner and thought they would be nearly ready by the time I finished, about 12 minutes. But no, of course not. Had me deciding to do a few minutes of the word-listings. Eventually, an hour later, the door chime chimed, and I smelt the burning! I took the tray of, shall we say, singed chips out and photographed it. The Carer didn’t notice the smell, which amazed me. Medications were issued. Then I made up a meal of crisps and opened a can of pork hock. It had a ring pull, which I pulled. The result was a cut finger, well, a cut thumb. I got a packet of Cheesy Curls, some cheese, and put the meat on a tray. I missed the chips naturally, but was pleased that the makeshift meal tasted good.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I didn’t particularly run, more absquatulated,
The plans for the attack were soon abrogated,
The CO’s plans seemed so distorted, aberrated…
2nd Corp was soon abscinded,
The enemy got so aggravated…
Our armour arrived, defences were annihilated,
Remnants withdrew, not chicken-hearted,
Their ammunition, fuel, expended…
We were welcomed and adulated,
Winners, victors, it’s complicated,
Yet war is not globally hated? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:30 hrs: I had a verbal and emotional argument with myself. The Inchy part of me wanted to get up and do the ablutions and medicationings, then get onto the computer and try to catch up with my blogging. However, the other, being in residence in my brain (EQ Inchie), wanted only to give up and stay in the comfortable, snug bed to try to get back to sleep again. We both partly agreed with the other. As we argued, we removed the nocturnal bag from the day pouch, and things turned unwanted! A bit of panic as a rear-end evacuation started on its own accord – I fumbled my way to the wet room.
Carer Ejaz treated the catheter contraption wounds and bruises.
Kitchen view.
Sweetcorn fritters were put in the oven. 20 minutes of cooking time. Two hours later, I took the burnt food from the stove and threw it away. Tsk!
A microwave meal is sorted.
Sorry that there’s not much on here. I spent more time out of it than with it. Mini-seizures, I assumed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Oh, for a night’s sleep, to inveigle,
A full night’s sleep would be incredible,
Lack of sleep is so depressional…
Causes, multi-varied, the seizures aberration?
Steve’s Thought Storms, all choplogical,
Anne Gyna, having a resurrection?
Duodenal Donald, so damned painful,
Twitching Neck Nigel’s jerking motion,
Shaking Shaun with a misguggle.
Doreen Dementia being nepenthean,
Is the catheter malfunctional,
Arthur Itis, cartilages, fungal lesion,
Cognitive Impairment, to confuddle,
Back Pain Branda, nightmare confusion,
A Grizelda dream, feeling coital,
Mechanical aorta, piles, corporality,
EQ visits and being oblectational,
The usual imprecation & malediction,
Guilt, vilification, ankles inquination
Last night was more confusional…
No sleep, but no real reason…
Causing me aggravations,
Not any pain from my bunions,
None of the usual causes?
Do I need some detoxifications?
Why? What causes my sleep dysfunctions?
What are the justifications, & reasons?
What were or are the causes?
What’s ruining my nocturnal hibernations?
Maybe I’m having noctambulations?
<<<<<>>>>>
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Rush job, it’s a devil trying to catch up with so many jobs to do. I assume the Carers & Social are arranging for the domestic and financial hep visits to be started, eventually.
A 7, I think, on the NHS scale.
The sun broke through. But not for long. Still, that means that Gladys Glaucoma will not be affected so much.
Clock-Calendar.
Slow, painful, & bloody.
The wound on Arthur Itis and Catheter Chloe is getting so much better already.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Today, I had a moment of pure glee! And I was proud of my being TT, Such a fantastic display of abstinency, Also, my new found articulacy, My fitness & mind control, no asininity! I now count every eaten calorie, Push-ups this morning? 223! The women are definitely after me, They asked me to go back to work, did I agree? I made up my mind and told them, certainly! I’ve never thought more clearheadedly, I reread Exodus in its entirety, I paid my overdue bill, for the electricity, I cleaned up my groin; it was pretty bloody, I sang and praised the Lord ecstatically, I expect you think I’m getting delusionary? One line of this ode is actual: I can tell thee… But which one? A clue? Cleansed! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Morning shot at approx. 05:30hrs Morning shot at approx. 05:55hrs.
Ocado Oder arrived. Daffies for the gals. Food for me. Drinkies for me. More food for me… Even more for me!
I don’t know much about what’s going on Today.
This morning’s shot.
The Carer took a shot of the head for me, tonight. It’s looking better, healing already. And a lot less painful.
Tomorrow will be a busy day. I hope I’m up for it. New Carers will be visiting to assess whether they can take me on.
Matron Jackie might be calling.
The Amazon parcel should be arriving before 22:00 hours.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The world is infected with discord, Compassion now issued with a whipcord, Our world remains technicoloured, Changes are now turbocharged, With rivers that will turn into a ford, Yet warmongering they can still afford? Food prices rising and surcharged, Existing with a lower living standard, Our beloved NHS is now substandard,
For many, meals are no foursquared…
Heating or eating? Oligarchs overcharged.
Using foodbanks and the scrapyard,
The body and mind become knurled,
Shoplifting, violence; police Kevlared,
HMG is becoming a voters hazard! You’ll not hear of them being hungered! Like Starmer, they’ll be well backhanded, For morality, they remain uncared…
I assume their expenses are undeclared,
HMG’s actions have remained unendeared, Their next tax increase is as yet undeclared,
They can’t say their actions are unflawed,
Voted for Labour, not the Tory United,
I told them this is most unrecommended,
But my advice went well unheeded,
I think that Keir is well bartended, He money-maunded, or is it money-laundered? I spat out many a curse & swearword, My hatred for him grew; I was degraded, On his promises, he backslided,
As pensioners & farmers he defrauded,
Businesses ensured he was backhanded, Selectively blindfolded, he’s coldblooded The NHS has actually been defunded,
Labourites feel they’ve been broadsided, If we knew he was a liar, we’d have forfended, AS a diplomat, it seems he’s masqueraded,, A Labour leader? He’s been misbranded,, In lies & deceit, he’s obviously marinaded, Humanity, caring, he’s constantly avoided
Amidst his fellow MPs disaccord…
Even they are getting bejaded!
The Labour Party could be abjured…
All politicians seem the be adfected,
The voters are & aggravated…
Maybe they could be acclimated?
Exchanging viewpoints is recommended,
Finding an opposition that could be respected?
Benevolent, facilitative, that can be cherished,
But can any of them ever be trusted? Like Nye Bevin, who I personally adulated,
Life’s bad now, and the UK isn’t yet invaded,
This ode, consider it as unsubstantiated,
But Starmer looks terribly unbothered!
My hatred of Keir goes unpunctuated!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Tonight’s nosh. Tonight’s glorious sunset – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m sorry there is little else. I had a backwards tumble in the morning. I’d just finished the ablutions and medicationings and was getting the fresh PPs (Protection pants) on. As I struggled to get my left leg high enough, the cartilage gave way, and I grabbed for the sink and somehow missed it, or maybe my hand slipped off. (Cartilage Chloe).
I did a lumbrumose pirouette, twisted and went down backwards, clouting the back of my head on the sink and the trolley. Getting back up was a heck of a job. I got up and tried to get up using him and the WC. No way! So I crawled, taking care not to damage the catheter on all fours, to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. It took me ages to do it, but finally, with gritted teeth and much pain, I clambered up enough to get in the chair. I ointmentated the Cartilage again from the tube on the just reachable carers table and took a Codeine. I stayed where I was for a short while. Only the catheter and knees from the crawling were bothering me at that stage. Things didn’t feel too bad, and I returned to the wet room. I had a quick rinse to clear the ointment, and I spotted some blood while drying off with the white towel. Mmm! No bleeding could be found from the knees, lips , leg ulcers or my nose. Ah, well, still unconcerned, I tried again to get the PPs on. This time, it was much more painful, with the knee getting twisted and clouted on my way down to the floor. But, I got them on! .
I’d sorted the waste bags and nocturnal catheter pouch, so I got on the computer. The second it started up, the pain from the back of my head started. It sort of came on in waves, each time growing slowly in intensity. Repeating every couple of minutes. I admit to being worried about this. I knew I’d hit the head, leg, and bum in the tumble. When I joined in, I was in a right state. And it stayed (the head) all day into the night, although I sensed it was painfully slowly getting less hurtful as night approached. A carer took a photo of the offending back of my head on his mobile. I’ll ask a Carer to take a snap of the head with my camera tomorrow.
I think a lot happened, including telephone calls and emails, that I’ll need help with. But I don’t think I actioned anything. Nothing was on the notepad anyway. Although the pains were still there, I’d wait until morning to call anyone. It might have cleared up by then. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski, each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HMG’s Labour are ridden with hebetudinous, Backhanded by tailors, clothiers & haberdashers, Football seats, glasses… there’s no hiatus, Killing stealing from pensioners, they’re haematophagous Herr Starmer, who is emotionally listless… What else can he tax for Christmas? No doubt, he’s planning more humdingers! Encouraging pensioners to become homeless? Heat or eat? Stopping winter fuel help was heinous! His lying by omission was horrendous… Farmers, pensioners, left helpless… As I prewarned, a Labour win will be hazardous, He’s created a land of worried householders, Imbued in depth to the voters, hopelessness, Revealed his backhander hungriness… With the compasson of a hypopotamus, Or scavenging, greedy, hunting hyenas! Displaying heartlessness and haughtiness, He’s dangerous; well, certainly not harmless! To Labour voters, the future seems hopeless, We must now be weary, scared & hypercautious, Starmer will always be unsafe and hazardous… Best see a Doctor, hypnotherapist, or herbalist!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A rundown on the not-so-good things today:
①: l left the hot water tap running… thus there was no hot water to shave or shower.
②: The nurse didn’t show up.
③: I took a tumble in the junk room. Thankfully, Carer Joanne was with me and got me up again.
④: Electric Shocking Sherida went for nine hours without bothering me at all. At about 17:00 hours, she kicked off and is still electrocuting me now as I write this.
⑤: The most annoying thing was the Seizure Sandra and, or, the Memory Blanks. These left me wondering where the time went today. What I really did today. I can recall most things, but there were primarily bad things or thingamibobs. ⑥: While in a seizure, I assume I’d made an order for Morrisons through Amazon??? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can remember waking up and looking at the clock. I was a trifle befuddled… it was 08:35hrs. I’d been in the bed for 8 hours, bejesus! I only woke up a few times, five maximum, methinks!
Then I had to access Doreen Dementias’s brain and work out if I was expecting any delivery, medical personnel or other caller. I was pretty sure there was no food arriving. Then I recalled the nurse saying she would call to check on the lesions, pot marks, Eczema & Acne. But which day? I felt sure she would not call early… but she did not appear.
I started the daily drudgery. .Starting with removing the catheter nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Johanne gave it a 6 on the NHS scale.
I felt a little guilty after discovering that the hot water tap had been left on for all those hours. And did a bit of house… well, flat work. There was no stopping me once I got going…
I moved the prescription medications that had arrived last night into the kitchen near the medicine chest.
I cleaned the parts of the air fryer. Thought I’d done a decent job. And no spillages or dropping anything… up to now, anyway. I did cut my finger cleaning inside.
The new mini cooker was given the hygiene treatment. The counters, as well. Not that much of them were exposed. Now I have the mini-cooker, mini air fryer, microwave and slow cooker scattered about, filling most of the prep workspace. Tsk!
I cleared the mess and emptied the waste bags, placing them near the front door to take to the rubbish chute later in the day.
I vaguely remember photographing the morning view from the kitchenette window. Later, I found that it looked like this on the right. A sort of photo of nothingness? Sad!
But my energy and willpower had not faded yet! Oh, no, I seemed to have the bit between what few teeth I had left!
I tipped spring water into two Schweppes bottles I had been imbibed and added some flavouring and effervescent Paracetomals. Lemon to one, and orange cordial to the other. Very nice!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and went with it to the computer. I changed the dates on my old-fashioned calendar clock and was about to start on the blogging duties, but I realised that no carer had called yet. This being about 0945hrs. I hoped someone was not ill. A little later, Carer Joanne came in. She apologised for being late. But I didn’t mind at all. We had a natter as she fitted me a new Catheter-Day-Bag and mesh cover. Then she removed the socks I’d forgotten to last night and put a loose-fitting pair of short Diabetic ones on for me.
After Joannne departed, I entered a phase of constant Mini-Siezures. I went from feeling rather industrious to a whimpering, concentrationless dumbo. This lasted for hours. Yet I still found when I’d come out of it that I’d finished and posted the blog and made a start on this one? Hours later, I found an email from my friend and neighbour sent by Jenny ♥. Informing me that the email I’d sent with the link to Friday’s blog I’d mailed was not working. Yes, I’d done it again! Finished the blog but did not post it!!! That must be the third time I’ve done that this week! I mentioned that I had some food to give away and I’d take them to the laundry room after the nurse called. Jenny kindly rang back, saying she’d come up and collect them for me. Bless her. It’s lovely having a natter and laugh. Thanks. Jenny!♥
I was feeling more with it again now. Then, I got an email from Amazon telling me my order was coming from Morrison’s. And one did! How can I make an order, send it off, and not recall making it?. It was not a big one, granted. The biggest surprise was that I ordered three boxes of x160, 99 tea bags! I am aware I was getting low on these teabags, but what in hell did I buy the other stuff for? I give up I can’t get any help. Then again, do I deserve any. A deeper than usual dawned.
I got the rest of the stuff packed away.
The fridge had so much food in it. And I’m not eating much lately.
I could use the word frustrated. The other words I thought of are better left unspoken at this point. I hope the cruelly expensive tomatoes I bought will keep fresh enough until I need them. I’ll have some tonight with something or other. Or not. The black tomatoes are already turning to a brown colour.
Mind you, they do taste delicious. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but they have a flavour almost like eating meat. Gorgeous!
I’ll wait until Christopher’s last call before eating anything. His Christmas present is coming tomorrow, and I’m praying they have it in stock.
Carer Christopher arrived on his next to his last visit. I didn’t mention my cock-up with the ordering food again. Well, he was in a decent mood.
I went on the WP Reader.
Chris arrived for an early last call.
And I got some food made.
Back in the morning. TTFNski.
Good Morning – I have not been to bed yet.
Taking me longer than ever!
NOSH Tomato sarnies – with No-butter-butter.
Pickled beetroot & mushrooms.
Frankfurters. Marmite Cheese.
Raw Garden Peas.
With a lemon-fool to follow. NICE!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not feeling too good at the moment, Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, (I think) I’ve pulled the catheter tube, and Little Inchie is sore! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Discussing death is not at all morbid, I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’ I didn’t mind there was no altercation, Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven! Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid? Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid… Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid! It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person, Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration? Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion? Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen! I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion, Sid: You’re causing me some confusion! Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion? Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism, Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism! My faith in humankind’s incomprehension… Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern! At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum, Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction, Sid: But I’ll make this prediction… Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven… Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid, Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid, Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid! Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid! What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening. The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia. Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.
The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?
I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early. & It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates. Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit. I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!
After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!
I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.
I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.
I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling! When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago. It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment! It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding! Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with. I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!
The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!
Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥
I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha! I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin… Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so! Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!
Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.
But I can remember making and eating the nosh! Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added. Yummy! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN, Everyone!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A night of broken sleep again. No dreams, but a few awakenings from and ensured it was a horrible, miserable, painful night. I was in bed for six hours, but the sleeping part must have been far less. You know me; I don’t like to complain… too much. Hehe!
Carer Promise later gave the nocturnal weewee pouch a number 6 on the NHS Richter scale. Haha! I took the worst photo of the morning view from the kitchen window. I found later that all of Kojo’s photos were right out of the sink. I changed back to Kodak Tim after a few failures. I’ll ask Carer Christopher to see if he can reset the errors I must have made to my Kojo camera on Monday. Tsk!
It was too early to shower, so I had a stand session. Well, it started sitting down, really, on the Porcelain Throne. It was back with a vengeance. Talk about messy! It took me such a long time just cleaning up after that session on the seat! Then I did the shaving… Dang dang, dang… Dang!
I didn’t do so well this time. I had a few, maybe ten cuts, all trifling ones, mind you. I got the Mini-Shakes but had not realised they were so imperceptive this time. Not only that, after I’d finished shaving and dowsed my head and neck in aftershave, I had a feel around the neck to see if they had stopped flowing, which they had… but the annoying new growths of hair on the back seemed to have avoided repeatedly the blades of the razors? I could sense them, almost hear them laughing at me. Har-Har! With my neurotransmitters dying of, I used the palm of my hand. Often, the finger ends lose all sensation. Like a week ago, two ago. I was in the kitchen and suddenly, only by smelling the burning flesh, realised I’d burnt three fingers on the oven racks! Still, I’ve got no oven now that it’s given up the ghost! I hope to have the new mini-oven fitted on Monday or Tuesday.
I removed my feet, which had been marinated in a bowl of hot water, and washed up liquid and Dettol while shaving. Drying them of when one cannot genuflect is a work of art. I found a way of wrapping some kitchen towels around the small picker-upperer so they don’t tear the towelling so much. Also, it gives me vital reach to get to the unbendable left leg of the Cartilage Chloe. Cunning, innit?
Now for dodgy duties. Today, I decided to medicate The fungal lesion on Little Inchie first instead of last. Get the painful one out of the way! I used the new cream on the lesion this morning instead of the Betamethasone cream for the first time. Blimey, it was almost painless! Naturally, the moving of the tubing was just as bad. But I’m not sure that it will work without pain. Haha! I’ll know by the morning when I wake up, I imagine. While on the lower regions of my whale-like, flabby body, I, both knees. I gave them a good long rubbing in, and by then, I tended to &
with the Phorpaining. I put the ankle ulcer rub on with the picker-upperer. Then I water jetted out the ear holes and put olive oil in each canal.
Then I got the Blepha eye cleaner and gels rubbed in, hoping that would appreciate them and not make things go foggy so often today. Huh, that was a forlorn hope. Still, yer can’t win ’em all!
It was turn next. I also used the Barrier cream on them, as instructed by the district nurse. Never again, it’s back to the Germolene again in the morning. It’s expensive, but it eases the agony from the piles! This barrier cream did nothing for the pain. Humph!
Then, the I tried to leave in a less painful position. It didn’t work, and poor Little Inchie has had a rotten day of torment and discomfort. I shall have a word with the nurse when she calls again. I can’t understand it. Things have been much easier for Inchie for two or three days. Today, it was back to its worst ever! But, it’s only pain. If it wasn’t the Catheter, something else would be playing up… I wish it was. But then again, better the devil, you know. Now, to barrier cream the man’s breasts, arms, belly, groin and where I can reach on the back of the neck. I left the breasts till last cause they had been so good the last couple of days.
The moment the cream touched under the man-udders, I jumped at the pain! I may have said a few naughty words and ARRGH as well.
I sprayed the nasal spray up each nostril and got my medical alert wristbands on. The Diabetic and Neuropathy Dementia ones have both broken and snapped off. Hey-Ho!
I put on the PPs, a gown, and a dressing gown; they are lovely and snug, too. Carer Promise came in as I put on the kettle to brew a cup of Co-op 99 tea. I asked him to put on my diabetic socks first, as my feet were rather cold while my uppers were warm. It was an odd feeling.
He looked after me and got them on for me. Medications were given. It was Promise who took the photo of the man’s breasts. Whatever it was that seemed to have developed, grown underneath them? I expected whatever it was to look all red and delicate, but as you can see above, it didn’t. What is it? The tenderness slowly eased over the day. It’s nearly six PM now, and I can touch them without pain. It’s a funny world, but you know that.
Carer Joanne did the net call. I think I was on the computer and in a seizure mode at the time. I talked a lot and felt we had a laugh about something.
The rest of the afternoon… well, was blank-ridden. I got all confused over the photos and made so many mistakes on the blog it was unreal. When and why I took this photo remains a mystery. Hand on, no, it doesn’t. I think it must have been to try the cheap camera again. Because it looks terrible. I guess I unwittingly changed some settings on it. Another problem for Carer Christopher to look at for me. Bless him.
I’m not sure, but I think I must have taken this this morning sometime...
I wonder if I’ll ever get help with these problems that keep bothering me? Mentally, I mean. I’ll make something to eat after going on the WordPress Reader – if I remember to. Hahaha!
Carer Vic just called.
I will get summat to eat, but there is not much choice.
Instant mash & sausage with some beetroot, maybe.
I’ll not starve. Well…
Back in the morning. (He says)
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – OF STARMERS NEW TORY, LABOUR HMG! Double-dealing, Lies, and Hocuspocus! No regrets about taking backhanders, Or bankrupting for food producing farmers,
And killing off private-pensioned pensioners,
And this from the party that created the NHS?
I imagine OAPS voted Labour, I guess?
New ministers that are the schmooziest,
Starmer could make the UK problems terminal,
Earths end may go galactically, universally viral,
Would Earth’s survival be acceptable or tenable?
Watching aliens must think humankind terrible,
Out Oligarchs, politicians so ungainsayable,
Earth’s innocents are so slaughterable…
This is just part of our trouble,
It’s time for our rulers to burst their bubble…
Our future is, of course, underivable,
Earth’s poor are all unconsequential,
I pray to see the first promised Angel…
Who just may be sent to us from Hell…
I hope he brings a freebie for Starmer as well! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Definitely a better kip last night. Although it took me so long to get to sleep, I reckon I was in bed for about eight hours, two of which were sleeping. But this is an improvement. I rose at about 04:20hrs, passed some wind, and the nocturnal catheter pouch was removed from the day pouch. A decent colour this time. Which, incidentally, should have been changed last Friday according to the date written on it, but things kept ensuring that I forgot to remind the carer about it. Sleep problems, seizures, Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the nose and Toothache Tiffany bleeding away. Yet somehow, I didn’t get caught up with the blog; the computer was dead set against me saving photos, and I had no heart to take many.
My BP was decent this morning after yesterday’s 2nd Hyper of the week. I amassed things needed to complete the ablutions and hibernated in the wet room to get on with the task. Again, the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. So again, I had no chance of taking a shower; I had a strip wash and couldn’t even clean my feet in the bowl as I shaved due to my inability, just like a three-year-old, to take off my socks. In times like this, depression and frustration can overtake me.But surprisingly, I kept my imitation pucker-up pretty well. The shave went wellish. Just one minuscule nick. A bit worried about not needing the Porcelain Throne again. With no showering and no shi… Porcelain Throne activity, I was done and out within 1½hrs. Stupidly, I adopted a mild Smug Mode. When will I ever learn? I went into the main junk/recliner/computer/bedroom and tried to get my socks pulled off. I should have known better! Dizzy Dennis, Loss-Balance-Barbara, and a little help from a short had me over! Inchy took another tumble! However, he redirected his route to the floor and lunched onto the bed! I pulled the quilts and dressing gown off the bed. But pleased he’d avoided any injuries… That’s not strictly correct. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which had just been cleaned and ointmentated, started bleeding. Which stained the fresh Protection pants he’d just struggled to get on. He now struggled to get off and replace them with another fresh pair after cleaning and creaming again! Noticing that the urine was now bloodied in the tube. Then I got the long picker-upperer to get the things from the floor and tidied up a little, not a lot! Hence, I had to frequently wash dry and Germoloid Little Inchies Haemorrhoids throughout the rest of the day. At long last, I got on the computer to check and finish the templates. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but three hours later, I had completed them. Now, the depression and frustrations began to sink in. I then discovered that the few pictures I’d taken in the evening (currently 01:45 hrs Sunday) were taken with the SD card on the computer.
My spirit is destroyed. The only semi-highlight was the computer: it let me save a photo of the snack I had taken earlier and a shot that had just been taken.
Not a lot, but nice. This may be the wrong photo?Early Morning View.
Feeling really low now.
WHEREVER DID THE DAY GO? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I found out on Monday that I had made an error in the meal photo. Fortunately, I also found out I had not yet (forgotten!) to post this blog. So I can rectify my singularly rare, not often-made mistake. (I’m lying well, aren’t I?) Belatedly, my memory springs into action… I enjoyed this one.
I wish that did not toy with and tease me so often, but with the previously classed as now becoming , there is plenty of scope for me to make even more mistakes in future comments. Oh, I haven’t mentioned the NHS letter yet! They are altering the Diabetic Course to a different Training course, which is being arranged for me. The Diabetes Type Two training is being changed to a Diabetic Dementia & Cognitive Decline course.
This could (I think) mean that I may have the possibility of if I read it right, Hippocampal Doreen Dementia, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, vascular Doreen Dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease Dementia, Lewy Body Dementia, Frontotemporal Dementia, Mixed Dementia, Traumatic Encephalopathy Dementia, Posterior Cortical Atrophy Dementia, or Primary Progressive Aphasia Dementia (Semantic or Logoepenic).
Telling me: “There’s a strong correlation between Alzheimer’s disease and high blood sugar levels. One study found that people with high blood sugar levels, such as those linked with Type 2 diabetes, “had a dramatic increase in beta-amyloid protein, one of the hallmark brain proteins of Alzheimer’s disease.” People in the early stages of Type 2 diabetes (Me) have signs of brain dysfunction. In fact, one study’s participants showed high levels of insulin resistance in the brain and a reduced ability to use glucose to fuel normal brain function. Individuals with Type 2 diabetes show accelerated cognitive decline, specifically in executive function and information-processing speed. The early effects of diabetes on the brain were related to levels of a blood protein called haemoglobin A1C (HbA1C). Researchers found that even people with diabetes for less than 10 years had deficits in memory function typically associated with a brain region called the hippocampus. They found that people with diabetes had smaller hippocampal sizes than people without diabetes. They also discovered the decreases in hippocampal size correlated to HbA1C blood levels, suggesting that HbA1C could indicate hippocampal-type function and/or the onset of memory loss. The gene for amyloid precursor protein (or APP, the “parent molecule of beta-amyloid) is known to be involved in some cases of Alzheimer’s. This gene also affects any insulin pathway. Disruption of the insulin pathway is a hallmark of
diabetes and research on the APP gene could lead to a therapeutic target for both diseases.
What to expect in early-stage Vascular Dementia. In early-stage vascular dementia, damage to the blood vessels or disruption of blood flow to the brain may already have occurred, yet symptoms may be relatively mild. .. While memory loss is a common first sign of cognitive decline in those who are developing dementia, memory issues are often not the first sign of vascular dementia. Instead, those developing vascular dementia may experience confusion more often, issues with communication, and trouble making decisions, planning, or problem-solving. Now they tell me! Hehe!
If, by any chance, a patient reading this was not too confused, they damn well are now after reading it! Haha! So, back to school for me in the New Year! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
