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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?
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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.
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All the best!
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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?”
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.
Waste bags sorted.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Say no more…
The night shots I had to force myself to take.
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.
Last of the sunset!
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Another partly full-of-beans awakening this morning! And why not? I’d been blessed with 8hrs in bed and only waking up with a jump three times. Yes! 
even when I had to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, I accompanied myself with a few toneless Elvis songs. And the urine I’d just emptied from the jug was a 6 on the NHS scale. I wasn’t overly worried. Then I changed to an Acker Bilk Song, ‘Bona Sera, Seniorita’, following up with Adam Faith’s ‘My Last Wish’. Yes! I was aware of my upbeatness and enjoyed it! I was bounced back to reality when I went into the kitchen from the wet room. 
I soon found myself in an instant depression 
. Self-hating, spitting, self-lambasting, and swearing began! Then 
, she kicked off yet again, but far worse than she was yesterday. Although I thought that was bad yesterday, now I know it wasn’t.
and 
played up.
I got the kettle on to brew a mug of Co-op 99 tea. Then I opened the window to take some snaps of the morning views on offer. A genuinely blue sky looked 
impressive from where I stood, holding my chest, trying to ignore Anne Gyna’s stabbing, moving around the torso’s chest pains.
A mug of tea and I planned to make a start on the blogging.
The holiday foods arrived with a few more treats. I had a heck of a job getting the stuff into the freezer & fridge, more the 
freezer.
new stuff. Tsk! 
. I nearly took another extra Codeine, but I stopped myself. 
d
Checked the tracker for the delivery.
Battered fish balls, terrible potatoes, two none-butter-buttered cheesy cobs, pickled water chestnuts, pickled mushrooms, garden peas, and a Lemon Fool dessert.
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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!
I started the daily drudgery.
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.
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.
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 made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and went with it to the computer. 
A deeper than usual 
dawned.
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.
Tomato sarnies – with No-butter-butter.
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. 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.
& 
After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!
would be in charge this 
session. I was right, too!
. 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.
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.
, as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from 
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!
Yummy!
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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!
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 
& 
ankle ulcer rub on with the picker-upperer.
Then I water jetted out the ear holes and put olive oil in each 
canal.
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!
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! 
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.
few naughty words and ARRGH as well.
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.
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Fabulous Furries and a great blog!
Yum, Yum!