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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday. Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today. However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg). ①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha! ② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem! I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…
According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.
Off to the wet room Throne.
Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.
Rubbish sorted.
At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.
Carer Maryham arrived. She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open. Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.
After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.
An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them. Humph! I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions. Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha! I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table. And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks. Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink! I’ll not get them again!
I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later. On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her. Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems. I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either! As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call. It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving. It went like a dream! Not a single cut! I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!
What next? I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good! Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications. Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me. So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day! I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!
I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.
I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal. Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter. I enjoyed this.
Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement. I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!
The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .
Today’s main contestants in life’s pain and bother battle have been Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, or rather, the difficulty of his battle with Neuropathy, Pete, in trying to get the cerebrum to identify the messages he was sending to the brain! I was all over the place. Dropping things, walking into things, stuttering verbally and physically while resisting the Cartilage Girls Chloe & Carole’s desire for me to take a tumble and end up on the floor throughout the day! I was also waiting for the arrival of three deliveries: one from the Cheap Food Shop and two from Amazon. Even if I found the time (three hours needed) to get a sh_ _, shave and shower, I dare not. I cannot hear the fire alarm, door chime, intercom, mobile, or telephone when I’m in the wet room. Absolutely no chance when I’m under the shower, and I do need a good scrub-up badly; having the Diabetic sock on the left leg and the diabetic compression bandaging on the right one for four weeks now meant I couldn’t take a shower. I needed the toothache tincture spray, upholstery cleaning spray, and brush (delivered today) that I’d bought. They came very late in the day, so my eyes worsened, and tiredness came on rapidly. I just ran out of time again. Up around 05:00hrs. I found that the nocturnal bag had more in it, but Shaq later confirmed that it was grade 6 on the NHS chart. That’s not good. The rubbish from yesterday’s delivery of the damaged saucepans was put near the flat’s entry/exit door. This inspired me to take a look at the three new saucepans and try to photograph the damage. The new small saucepan arrived just before Carer Shaq arrived. The saucepan at the back left was put underneath the stove.
Here, on the right, is the damage to those delivered yesterday. A broken handle and a dented rim on the other one at the corner. The new small pan that came today seemed to be okay. Shaquille classed the urine as a 6 this morning. I went off to the Porcelain Throne. I went through the crosswording and counted the cracks on the wetroom ceiling routine. Constipation Conrad was adamant that nothing was to escape. None did! I made up another bag of waste, and then, at long last, I got onto the blogging duties. The new saucepan was nice and heavy, as are the others. Less chance of my knocking off the cooker! I went to make a brew of the wonderfully strong Thompson’s Punjana tea. I took a kitchenette view shot and then went back to the computer. This is when the shaking and shuddering started. I dropped the mug of tea and came close to dropping the computer mouse. The washing returned yesterday that I’d forgotten all about. It’s not surprising; I was in the land of nod when it came.
I cleaned up and made another brew of tea, Glengettie. Back to the wet room. Conrad was in full charge again, but this time, my efforts to force things along worked, and four torpedo-shaped, rock-hard chunks created a slash up my bum as they hit the water. It didn’t half stink with it. It also retained the Kharki colour of the last few days. I used the extra-strong bog cleaner, added some Lemon Sherbert disinfectant and left it to marinate for a while longer.
The fabric foam sprays were delivered at about 15:00hrs. I’ll have to ask a Carer if they can read the instructions for me and write them down later.
I made an Asda order for next week and will put it on the Google diary to avoid the double order from Iceland coming this week. I am a fool! The blog’s progress was so slow. Error, mistake, mix-up, grammar, hitting wrong keys… Not good at all! Aha! The tooth pain spray arrived. I think I may have whooped for joy? Not sure! But when I opened the crushed and torn little box, I found the instructions were too small to read. Even with the magnifying glass! Glaucoma Gladys, Cataract Katie and the eyelids drooping with tiredness forced me to stop blogging. I’ll ask whoever comes on the evening call if they can read the instructions. It’s been a busy day. At least, it felt like it had.
The cheap food shop order arrived next. I’d got some lemon wafers (also for me), Clara’s Truffles for nurses and carers’ and other treats. As soon as I remember what, I’ll let you know.
I shall return with an update in the morning. (He says) I went to see what food was available, I hope I can read the use-by dates. I took this rather decent, apart from the blotched snap of the view.
Carer Chris turned up. As he sorted the night catheter pouch out to put on, he listened to my tale of cleaning the upholstery and suggested I buy a new recliner. He got on my computer to have a look at the prices. The prices put an end to any intention of buying a new one. Until Chris spotted what I would have been interested in, a brown one, which was so cheap that it must have been a mistake, I thought. The others he looked at ranged from £999 to £4,120! This brown one was only £300! Too good to be true? But Chris confirmed the price. Delivery in 3-5 days at £99. I thought I’d ask Kara to take a look. This had tweaked my interest. Chris took the diabetic socks off, slipped me a painkiller and then read the instructions on the toothache tincture bottle. I asked him to do this to confirm whether I should spray it inside or out and what to do immediately after application. He patiently read through them and told me that I had to spray them on the affected area inside but that I must not swallow for any reason for ten minutes after spraying it on. Bless him. I had a last look at the advertisement for the recliner… Whoopsiedangleplop! I realised it is self-assembly. Me? Able to assemble a recliner? No!
Out of the blue, a new pain came! On the top of my left foot, ankle-end. This was painful, a sort of fluctuating throbbing stinging kind. This bodes not well! I’ve already got Arthur Itis, a currently dormant ankle ulcer and Cartilage Chloe collapsing painfully on my left leg. I’ll be struggling to hobble around in the morning. (I always look on the bright side, Hehehe!) Toothache Tiffany launched a pain attack as I was mountaineering up onto the second-hand hospital bed. I thought about spraying some more of the painkiller onto the gums. But I don’t think Chris said anything about the frequencies to be used; how often, timewise?
As I was about to settle, I remembered I’d not had anything to eat yet. So I descended from bed and doubled up two ready meals in the microwave. I hoped it was soft enough for my teggies to cope with. I ate about a third of it.
I wasn’t up to getting back into the bed, so I collapsed thuddingly onto the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
Zzz!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers unless you’ve got Dementia, then you lose both buggers!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The master phrase to describe things today is not easy to select. I’m so far behind with everything and meandering. I’m losing track, forgetting, and struggling to see and hear things. ‘CONFUSION’ It is already Thursday, and the confusion is still with me. Along with giving way a few times. In fact, when Carer Christopher was visiting Thursday morning, he saved me from a tumble with his quick reactions. Thanks, Chris! The day was full of bafflement, confusion, and an inability to comprehend what was happening. I got weary and tired, and my eyes worsened far earlier than usual today. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Still not good.
Early morning view.
Rubbish readied. This reminded me of the damaged saucepans delivered by Amazon. One had a broken handle end and two dents in another. I can’t be bothered complaining; I’ve enough worries to cope with without this.
Off to the Porcelain Throne. Messy!
The lower legs had thinned, but around the knees, the Cartilages and behind the knees were bloated.
Front rubbish room balcony shot.
Made a mug of tasty Thompson’s Punjana tea. I started the notes and am ready for blog creation.
Within an hour, the eyes began to go double-vision. This was very annoying, as up until then I thought I’d been doing so well. Serves me right; I should have known. Progress after this was painstakingly slow. Mistake-ridden, too!
I think the sky began to darken early.
I had just a ready-made Beef in black bean sauce for the evening’s meal. I had this because it had a use-by date of today. But it was alright. Some leftover sliced bread and a wholemeal roll helped me soak up the black bean sauce. Slurp! I had to disk the white bread when I found some green mould. I washed the pots, carefully not leaving the tap (faucet) running.
I had to give up early on the computer, and my eyes were not up to it. So, I cleared some rubbish into a waste bag and left it near the door for collection.
This I assume, was a snap of the clouds. But it could be anything.
Got down in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner. And off into the bliss of sleep…
Carer Israel came in. He gave me the medications. I gave him some treats, and off he went. It seemed to me that ten minutes later, he was back, waking me up. Haha! He removed the diabetic socks and gave me some Peptac and a painkiller (Codeine). Could I get to sleep again this time? No! It was one of those nights that was in a determined, mind-blowing mission to remind myself of all the things I loved but cannot get, enjoy or even do nowadays. He rampaged through my brain non-stop for hours. I got so angry with myself because it was obvious to me that the messages, put-downs, and fears brought to my attention were from myself, or maybe or . Is this the same thing?
It was a horrendous night!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – There was a twinkle in my neighbour’s eye, As she’d taken it out I asked her why, She smiled. I noticed she was tooth-free, Her reply: “I can’t find my hearing aid battery!” I said, Oh, I’ve lost my spectacles, see! We both had a catheter, we couldn’t manually pee, I led her to her flat, smilingly… Told me she’d lost her key… We opened the key-safe, eventually, I went back to flat 73… Could I find it? Not Me! Carer led me to it, and I had a mug of tea!. Hehehe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheers!
I lost my District Nurse for the leg ulcer and Lymphorrhoea Leslie. Last call today. The wound has healed. Damn it! Another bright highlight is lost to the misery of my existence. The pain was worth it to get some company in the flat. Still, they will call to tend to the Catheter contraption every few weeks. So all is not lost company-wise. I got an unexpected Iceland order today. I cannot recall making one at all. To make things worse, I’d just made one for Friday! The ablutions again took me an age. Nearly three hours. Of course, after that, I forgot what I was doing and got terribly confused. When I returned to the computer, I proceeded to open the wrong blog and lost hours again before I realised I was working on an old one. Then, I made a mess of transferring it back to the original blog, and even more hours evaporated while trying to get it right again. I fear it may contain some errors, mistakes and cock-ups. I even made a mess of the Ode and had to touch it up… but now I find I’ve reposted the graphic with the mistakes still on it. Condemnatory self-loathing combined with a frustration of mega-proportions followed. There is no doubt about it: & They are winning the battle to control my mind. They are increasing cock-ups daily and creating a feeling of pointlessness in life. Along with my financial bewilderment, my frustration grows deeper. The pointlessness I feel now is prompted by my inability to counter these at-the-moment problems and knowing they will only worsen. It’s the same with , & dying-off. It ain’t gonna get any better. All this created a counter-opinion, and I feel shame complaining to myself. Obviously, (to me), I must deserve this misery. My past actions, maybe? I am just hoping that someone in the medical world reads this blog and can conjure up some compassion and help me to cope. Hahaha! Enough of this self-pitying! At least, although a struggle time-wise, I can somehow produce the odd decent ode. Even if this blog is reduced to just an ode a day. Inevitable eventually, what with taking me three hours to get the ablutions done, and all the time spent correcting errors, the tumbles and stumbles, my camera using problems, my memory being unreliable, the catheter pains, Leg dances, my eyes fading, lack of hearing so bad I can’t hear the intercom, fire-alarm, door chime or water leak alarm. I’m guessing what people are saying. And the unwanted Dark-Dank-Depressions after each related incident, yet I still love doing this blog & ode. So, as long as I can, I will, even in cut-down form. I love reading other folks’ blogs and receiving and answering comments on mine. It’s my social life. And I do appreciate it. I can’t help it; I’m addicted! Now, where are my Codeines? Hehehe! Another minimalistic set of unreadable notes to refer to. It’s a good job that I took some Kodak Tim photographs to help me recall things. But it is now tomorrow, and my recollections needed some help. I’m getting things so mixed up lately. My concentration and eyesight are getting worse earlier each day.
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The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed, and the day pouch connected. At the same time, a little naughty, disapproving language was spoken to the painful . Which seemed to get them more irritated. Tsk!
I got the three waste bags made into one and placed it near the front door. I then had an . I didn’t need to struggle to remember this incident! I hit my poor left foot’s toe as I turned around to return to the mini-hallway. Arrgh! Even considering what was about the Cartilage girls and what was about to happen in the wetroom, this remains the single most painful experience of the day!
I hobbled to the kitchenette and took some non-prescription painkillers. Taking this photo of the view from the window. Still cursing for stubbing my toe!
I got on the computer to start the graphic for the ode of the day. To my Utter Dismay, the alignment options in the WordPress Gallery had a blank icon for the No Alignment choice box! Has anyone else gotten this new error from their WordPress? All is not lost. Pressing the blank rectangle still makes the graphic or photo non-alignment. Good innit? WordPress!
Five cube-shaped articles plonked into the WC. Followed by a short hailing of following up. I got the feeling that I had better not stand up yet. A good job, too! For a second wave from , heavier than his first, flowed… well splattered, freely. I think I was lucky here.
I cleaned and cleared up after the double-entendered evacuation. And did the teggies. Then, the potentially dangerous job of shaving was tackled. Five bloody cuts, and a later by around ten minutes, I gave up trying to stop the flow of the red stuff on my cheek and nose. The Brut was not working this morning. This called for the strong stuff! I got the tube of cream that I used for Little Inchies Fungal lesions and dabbed some on the stubborn face cut. I’m so glad I didn’t jump any higher than I did, or else my head may have gone through the concrete ceiling into the above flats’ wet room! Well, it felt like it! I put a plaster with some Dettol on the ultra-tiny cut. Then I had another jump!Hehehe! But it did the trick for a while and stopped the flow. Then, yet another farce: getting the fresh PPs on. It was all the same hassle and pain as yesterday’s attempt, but it took longer to get them on today. I’m not sure why, really. Silly me! Obviously (now I think of it), were hurting me far more today. It was another record length of time to get the job done.
I got back to my blogging duties, and the intercom sounded. It was a food order from Iceland. And did I make one only yesterday for next Friday? Indeed, there was an error somewhere. As I accepted the bags kindly dropped in the doorway for me by the driver, it was clear from the contents that this was indeed my order. The 2 extra large Lamb Shanks confirmed this. I got the things stored away, and what a job this was! After loading it up, I thought I heard the fridge creaking. Hehehe! I was pleased to see that I had some more pod peas in there, and they will be eaten up with a lamb shank & gravy, with some roast potato cubes! Iceland had substituted some items again! Don’t think that this angered me, made me spit, or got me feeling all pissed off. Well… yeah, I did! A few drops of rain when I eventually opened the curtains and took these belated morning shots of the view from the balcony. The mudslide was somewhat intrusive this morning; well, it’s lunchtime now.
The Cartilage Girls continue to give me some pain. In fact, not that I’ve done a lot of hobbling about. Cartilage Chloe once and Cartilage Carole twice gave way on me. But thankfully, there have been no tumbles. I’ve been Tumble-Free all day up to now!
Carer Sam called belatedly. They are doing their best. Obviously, they have problems just as we do. No bother.
I launched myself most belatedly at the blog updating.
District Nurse Sarah (I think it was) came in to check over the burst ulcer from the burn and Diabetic Edema. She called for advice, and they agreed that this is as much as is needed with the diabetic bandaging. The ulcers on both of my ankles are leak-free now, but I’ll miss them calling on me. I didn’t cry too much! Haha!
I started shelling the pod peas in preparation for the meal preparations. Quite a few of them got into the bowl, but many amazingly just jumped into my mouth. I can’t understand it. These lamb shanks are easy to cook in the bag. I later dropped the peas in the water to cook. On a low boil, they take only 30 minutes to cook this way. I then sorted the potato cubes from the Asda bag from the freezer. Remove the ones with any black spots on them. Which was about 25% in total. And got them cooking on a tray in the oven. After a while, Carer Sam arrived. Medicated me, and then I went to check on the now-burnt potatoes. I picked through them to remove the too-hard ones and those with the black spots I missed and got them in a dish to add later. What a feast! Thoroughly enjoyed it, apart from some of the burnt spuds being too hard for my shortage of teeth and the few remaining being in the sad, broken, painful state. It was almost, but not fully worth the pain afterwards from .
I had planned to get back on the blog, but fading eyesight and increasing tiredness forced me to stop everything and just sit down in 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. I turned on the TV and just fell asleep. It was heaven! Carer Chris came, and I cannot recall much of this visit. I think he… well, no, I don’t know. Later, Christopher called for a late visit, and I still slept. I can recall him taking off the one sock I had on. In the morning, I found it crumpled up on the ottoman. He must have put the catheter night bag on for me.
I continued to sleep without any problems. Having the longest-ever kip for months! I suppose I needed it? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Please try to be happy, Content, surrounded by magnanimity, Ousing with loveability & affinity, Wallow in moving mutuality, This sounds good to me! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Keep Safe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another miserably tormenting day… The SD card threw the pictures away, yet it randomly let a few go through to CorelDraw (which has not frozen yet today). So, here is a very small selection of photos today. For the first time in months, the right ankle started giving way, and Cartilages Choe and Carole were doing this all day. I’ve ordered some snacks, so if the SD loader permits me to do so, I’ll try to get some photos of the order. It feels proper cold this Sunday. The Sun is yet to display. At this moment, I’m feeling down, coughing, sneezing, my eyesight is fading, and I’m grumpy. The only thing that might cheer me up is England beating Spain in the Euro Final. The experts on the telly say it is possible. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Murky wee-wee.
Being depressed, I treated myself to an early cuppa.
Sorted out the waste bins into a bag.
Does this shot I took of the balcony door and Carers chair look to you like it does me, Garth Vader? Hehehe!
Carer arrived. Medications, and he put a sock on my left leg. I got on with the blogging as quickly as I could.
Carer Kim called. A little natter and laugh.
This is the third emptying of the catheter day pouch. It looks a little cloudy. I think there is some sort of something in the jug. Likely a few bits of my prostate. I can’t have much of it left in there? Lost no end of photos again.
I finally posted the Saturday blog and then started on this one. I got up to here, and the food delivery arrived. I’m not getting any comments in? Oh, dearie me!
I’d wanted to get a kip in before the match, but now I have to stay awake in case the food comes and I can’t hear the intercom… Humph! I did think of getting a shave and shower, but that is now out of the possibility zone for two reasons. One: I’d no longer be able to hear the door chime or intercom. Two: I’ve done it again: I left the hot water tap running, so there is no hot water! There are times that I immensely dislike myself.
I shelled some peas, added potatoes, and boiled them. Washing the things up, Carer Kim arrived. (I think you may know what’s coming here). I got back on the computer,
The potatoes and peas had boiled dry. The saucepan had to be thrown away beyond cleaning, and I had no hot water again anyway! I’m not a happy laddie!
Carer Came. My eyesight faded too much while he was here. He checked the replacement chips and pie I was now cooking. The carer pointed out that I’d not put the pie in and did so, taking out of the foil tray, and crumbs went all over the tray oven and floor. I’m not a happy laddie! Now, this meal needs taking out, prepping, and eating. I’m not a happy laddie! I have no time for blogging, and I wanted to get it done before the football match. I’m not a happy laddie! I’m not a happy laddie! If they are on the card, I’ll have to sort the photos in the morning. I finally got the food sorted out. I’m further behind than ever now, and I have the oven, floor, cooking utensils, and pots to clean after eating. I’m not a happy laddie!
Monday Morning Catch-up. The meal-making disaster! . I found this after a short hiatus into the land of a , and smelt the burning coming from the kitchenette. This was my pan of terribly expensive potatoes and garden peas that I had painfully and carefully spent an hour podding and seasoning, only to let burn! I was not a happy laddie! It took me ages to clean up. This had to be done with boiling water in a saucepan because today was the third time I had left the hot tap (faucet) to run cold! Grrr! I suppose my leaving it on a setting of 3 and not on a half for an hour didn’t help. I was not a happy laddie! After much effort was put into cleaning the heavy saucepan I’d burnt, I realised it was futile. I had to throw out the saucepan and lid. The total cost of the food and trying to clean the pan, not counting all the time spent in preparation, must be £30!
And yet, I still felt England would not win the Euro final; my EQ just knew.
This later turned out to be true. However, I was proud of England’s effort. Although Spain was the better team from the start, England did not give up. They did their best, which is all we could ask. I hope there is no more call for the England manager to resign. Getting England to the final was a victory, so we used up all our good luck. Gareth Southgate’s team has done so much better overall. But England’s 58 years of pain and disappointment in competition finals continue.
I had to make another meal. Not that thought I’d enjoy it. But I did. Bar the cement-like rock-hard bad-teeth-breaking beetroot, of course. I’m not a happy laddie!
While washing the pots, I decided to make a sign in the morning and put it on the kitchen wall behind the sink: DO NOT LEAVE ANY TAPS RUNNING! I bet that I forget to! I got Kodak Tim & took these blotchy photos of the view that was on offer. Nice!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – May your essence of life be pleasant!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Today, I could have done without it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It had to happen, I suppose, but I woke up. In the state of mind & body as described above – feeling crap! Uninterested in even trying to sort out the state my mind was in. The overriding guilt within. The… Oh, I said all this above. I’m sorry about that. A little more urine in my nocturnal pouch this morning, and still a bit dark in colour with signs of blood in it. But it didn’t bother me at that moment; What did get to me was the message of gloom from my EQ. Things would not go right today. (As if I didn’t know this already! It’s the same every day here in the slammer for me. Even what should have been a joyful event the other day, in getting an appointment with the opticians, just had to have ifs, buts, maybes and uncertainties about it. Not to mention that it’s costing me nearly £100 for them to just come to the flat. How much is needed for eye testing is a secret as of yet. And the date was a fortnight later. A protem time and date were given to Carer Kara. I slowly rose from the world’s most uncomfortable bed, trod on the torch I must have knocked off the side table, and cursed mildly. This was followed by a realisation that a depression was brewing, and I tried to fight it off, all the same. Seeing the red bits in the sky, I fetched Kodak Tim to take some blotched pictures of the morning view. Had I not felt so low, I would have stood a while talking to the clouds… Yes, I talk to them and the trees, you know. Well, it’s a bit of company for me. But not this time, for the gurgling from within and the wind from the rear end was getting out, so and me wobbled along to the wet room. As I sat there, many of the usual ailments that didn’t seem too bad yesterday kicked off. Curiously, for only the second time ever, as I washed my body after the evacuation, I felt the dum-dumming of the mechanical Aorta valve beating away. At least It confirmed that I was alive, but I didn’t get too excited about it.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana. And got the computer going. And I instantly cheered up. (Not for long, of course, but there you are!) The eyes were far improved on their condition last night. Why remains a mystery. So, I committed myself to finishing yesterday’s blog before the sight faded. It was a great time for an hour or two, and happiness almost thought about the possibility of breaking out. Silly, I know! Carer Maryham arrived. I stopped computing, and she put on the diabetic sock for me. She handed me the medications, remembering to give me the Vit K one. Maryham had to dash off; she was busy this Friday morning.
I forgot about the blogging, so I sorted the waste bin bags into one and took them to the front door for collection.
I got the camera and took another sky view photograph. Blotches included, of course. The sun is having a job getting through again this morning. I could hardly believe it was July, with things being so cold and dark. Brrr! In fact, I was sneezing a bit. Back to the computer… it had to happen; it always does, every day. ! I was loading the snaps for Blotchy Kodak Tim, and the machine would not let me import the SD card content for some unknown reason. The feeling of doom and gloom returned just as Carer Joanne came in. She identified my frame of mind immediately and asked what the matter was. I think she regretted it because I told her. Hahaha! I kept her waiting a few minutes while I tried and failed to get the photos. Last night, as I closed it, I updated the MS on the computer. Mmm? Carer Christopher arrived. As he was sorting the medications, my super-new, old Nokia The phone went berserk with text messages coming in. After three, I got a recorded voicemail. They were all supposedly from Lloyds Bank. Chris listened to the recorded message and said it was a scam. These were followed by four more messages. I think they were all the same ones repeated, but not confident as I cannot see well enough to read them now that my eyes are failing again. I could not hear the recorded messages, but Chris confirmed after taking the mobile phone that they claimed to be from Lloyds Bank. Chris said the texts gave me a passcode to log on to my Lloyds account, which I do not have. But I panicked a bit. I wanted to delete them. I asked if Kara was in today, if she had not gone home yet, and if she might take a look at them. So, I didn’t delete them yet. There was a telephone number to ring for assistance. But I was wary enough to ignore it. Obviously, my finance helper Kara was not available. So, I’m in a state and a bit of a pickle. What next! I thought back to this morning’s awakening thoughts from my EQ. He was right again! Getting murky early tonight. Well, packing up, as the eyes seem to insist. But a little later on in the day today, which gives signs of hope, methinks. Going to get some nosh. Back in the morning… I hope. TTFNski…
I’M BACK… Two crisp fishcakes without any fish (don’t ask), six potato rostis burnt to perfection, and a can of peas and sweetcorn. A pot of orange jelly to follow. I ate it all up and had a bag of Frazzles.
The photo on the left was taken from the kitchenette window. Well, this came out different, didn’t it? Heaven knows what I did wrong. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The party is over, not that I was invited, With my mind & body so blighted, And struggling, being so poorly sighted, I got through another day – I’m delighted! Facing another, I expect it will be addlepatted! Hopes and plans to be thwarted, Accifauxpas ridden, unpremeditated, My computer crashed, problems unpropitiated, And it’s over 60 years since I mated! Huh!
Possibly my most confusing day for weeks now. In and out of control of things and happenings. One late morning and Gawd knows how many more throughout the day. I can’t recall being in such confusion for a long time. I found out later that I’d placed an order for J Sainsbury. But it’s all a mystery to me. Looking at what I ordered really made me wonder how the hell, why, and when I made it. I can’t help but occasionally worry about it and myself.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s too dark yet again. It usually clears a bit later.
Taken while getting the Nocturnal Cather Pouch unattached. The white spot is the flash from Kodak Tim.
Made up a waste bag and hoovered around the main room. It’s that Inchy, you know, forever dropping crumbs, pens, torches, mobile phones (when he can find them), and anything else that is not attached to him is droppable, really.
Ablutions, medications & Porcelain Throne Visit(s) I carried out another Whoopsiedangleplop after the first painful use of the Porcelain Throne – I forgot all about, or maybe I might have thought I’d done it, the shaving! As with yesterday’s first attempt, the movement was showing no signs of any interest in escaping the depths of my heavily fabbed body and innards. So, I got the crossword book out. Flipped it open and started on the random one. I also got a few answers; I got two more answers anyway. Then, the pain started, which again caught me by surprise. All the signs were that it was going to be a Trotsky effort. To take my mind off the pain, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling for a while. There were 27 cracks up there, I think. The pain suddenly reached a crescendo, and a tear came to my eyes; I gritted the few teeth I had left in my mouth, cringed and anticipated that a lot of blood would need cleaning up when it finally arrived. As it almost shot out, the pain eased, and the plump, plump… plumps were heard as the almost cube-shaped giant, Kharki-coloured Oxo cubes hit the water – to be followed by what I thought would have been the first things to exit… Whoosh, splatter, all done! I reckon it was controlled by 15% of Constipation Conrad; the rest was definitely a Trotsky Terence follow-through. This horrendous evacuation may have helped me forget I’d not shaved. The medicationalisationing went tremendously well! Getting the PPs on was not so easy. With the assistance of the small pick-upper I keep in the wet room and sticking my butt in the corner near the door for support, I was pleased with how I got the right leg in the pants so comfortably. I had to lift my left leg with my left arm to get it high enough to go into the leg hole of the pants, keeping the pick-upper in the same hand to pull at the pants to get my foot in. One second, I was struggling to keep my balance. The next second, I clumped down onto the floor on my knees. This upset, , , and in both knees, they let me know their discomfort in the usual fashion. Arrgh! didn’t seem too bothered by my tumble. This shows he’s healing up a bit. Even crawling on all fours to the recliner to regain my feet was almost tolerable pain-wise. It took great effort to clamber up on the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. I stayed there for a minute or two. As I grabbed , I’d left in the wet room and rose gingerly from the chair. Carer Christopher arrived. He seemed in a light mood, bless him. He got the one diabetic sock on and medicated me fully. I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette. I took this Kodak Tim of the grim view on offer. I think the sun will struggle to get through today. As usual, my eyes were much better in the morning than in the afternoon. So I made a mug of tea and pressed on with yesterday’s blog while I could see well enough.By 10:30hrs, the double shadows started to kick in. Krunglebumps! But I did get the blog finished and posted.
FLAT FIRE ALARM: I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that the Fire Alarm went off. This was the first time it had activated since they installed the new, louder one, and I did not hear the old one when it was activated. I had a hobble around to check things in the other rooms, but all looked well. I imagine it must have been a test. Because no brigade or staff members had arrived to check things out. They may have changed the day of the tests. When I could get about, any changes used to be amended on the notice board in the foyer.
The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved. Carer Kara visited me. She opened yesterday’s mail, both letters were from the bank. Nowt to fret over, she said. She asked how I was feeling and checked the catheter bag. Kara kindly took the laundry bag down with her.
I returned to the wet room, determined not to have any more tumbles, to get the shave I forgot about earlier done. I had a Porcelain Throne Mark2 visit. No chinks this time, straight to the slushiness if a regular heavily Trotsky Terence commanded evacuation. Well, at least I get diverse, multifaceted, distinct evacuations. Hehe! Then, I tackled the shaving. There was just one tiny cut, nothing to bother about. It took me much longer than planned because I couldn’t find my spectacles after getting on the new nightshirt. (I found them later)
My eyes are fading now. I’ll make a meal while I can do it a little more safely before the eyes get worse.
It’s not a bad effort visually. But the beef and I found both bits of it between the grizzled and fat, was disappointing, as was the so-called gravy. So much for ready-made meals! Thankfully, the potatoes that I baked to accompany it were superb. They were seasoned with black pepper and some of the adorable No-butter butter, but even this did not fill me. So I backed up the sad-tasting but good-looking meal by delving into my favourite biscuit box! Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets. They were nice!
Carer Christopher arrived. He took off my one diabetic sock. Dealt out the medications, and then I asked him to take a photo of me in the new nightshirt. Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways. ① The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. ② The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” ③ And most uniquely, this is the only time anyone has caught me having two of my shakes on camera simultaneously. Bearing in mind that they are rare and usually do not last for more than a minute makes this all the more remarkable. I ought to be in the medical Gazette! Hehe!
I can hardly recall the details of Carer Chris’s last call. He woke me up but was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, she never stops her bemusing, irritating meddling with the synapses and memory cells. is to blame overall, I think. But I could be wrong, of course. Perhaps failing was involved in the brain invaders’ plot to send me into another world of confusion. For all I know… which is more guesses than estimates.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – At 03:30 hrs, an electric shock woke me. I did notice as I lay there thinking of getting up, or at least the possibility of this, that the nocturnal catheter back had next to nothing in it. Then nodded off again. I stirred again back into mock-life around 05:00 hrs and was glad I did. The memory box had sent me a message that ‘we’ must get the ablutions done before anyone arrives. Not that I needed this thought prompt; the moment I whiffed my BO was enough to trigger me into frantic action. I rolled off the bed, stood leaning on the bed bar, wobbling for a few seconds, and then carried out the catching-my-balance routine. Which took at least three minutes of strenuous exercise. Hehe! I considered doing a few press-ups, toes and a bit of shadow boxing, but the protection pants had come down and were hanging on the compression bandaging, and that caused me to forget about the physical jerks. It was true about the pants, though. Tsk! I got a dressing gown on, and the innards instructed me to go to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. The evacuation was a half & half-style. It took a lot of effort to get anything moving. And not a little pain. I was convinced that Constipation Conrad was back in charge of the action. Thinking that this would take some time, I got the crossword book and started having a go at it. I was doing well, as well. Then came the rapid splurge of liquid evacuating; it was all over in seconds. Unfortunately, the mess it sprayed all over took me ages to clean up. There’s always summat goes wrong! And I’d only been up for 10 or thereabouts minutes! Then the morning ablutioning and medications were started.
I got the too-large PPs off and cleaned my lower regions first. Medicated poor old , and Germoloided the piles. Washed my torso; it’s not easy for me, you know! All that blubber around the middle and the getting gigantic man breasts, a hell of a painful job getting to things. Applied the barrier cream around my goolies, under my man breasts and armpits. Cleaned what few teeth I could find left in the mouth. And started shaving. Astoundingly… I thought I’d not have a single nick shaving. , but I should have known better than getting cocky. As I applied the Brut aftershave to my face and body and sprayed the gargantuan mass around my bones and belly, I caught my , knocking it over. I hit my head as I bent down on the sink and simultaneously stubbed my toe as I began to get up from lifting Mickey. Of course, this didn’t bother me in the slightest.
I got on the computer and am new to this site. Carer Evelyn arrived. She issued the prescription medications, and Evelyn swapped the diabetic socks for me. I asked her to take the laundry down for me. Nice gal. But after she’d gone, the laundry bag was still there. Not to fret, she said she was doing the next call as well, as long as I remember to ask her again.
Onto yesterday’s blog catching-up. It was slow-going as the eyes began to play up with the double and treble visions again. It looks like the sun may come out later.
Carer Kara came to do the financials for me. She went through my emails and opened the letters I could not read. Things seemed okayish. She then kindly told me that the doctor’s surgery had rang her back about the problems with my eyes. I have to have my eyes tested first with an optician. Then, get a report on them from the surgery. Then, the doctor might refer me to the EENT for another operation on the Cataract and Glaucoma… or at least get me on the list for them. I waited 2 years for the last operation that didn’t work. My eyes are worse than they were before the procedure. Humph! Kara then called an optician who does home calls. The lady she spoke to said the home eye test would cost me £90. They will call Kara back after giving us a temporary date without a time of day for the visit and determining whether they can fill it. Kara put the date on the Google calendar for me. July 2nd. Carer Kara is as good as gold. I’m not chuffed with it, but it has got to be done.
Carer Evelyn, the washing has still not been taken. At the bin bag, oh, Carer took that, I think.
But make a meal, I’m really not feeling good. TTFN! Morning, I’m back. The Caregiver called but still did not know where to take my laundry; the bag remains awaiting collection. I was in the right state when she arrived, so tired and exhausted. I sorted out and ate the meal and settled in to watch the England Euro game. I fell asleep and missed most of it. Huh!
Down Nottingham, there’s an odist called Gerald. Whose smithing of words keeps us levelled. He’s housebound but not gagged. By his words bad leaders are scragged. All of these make him our prophet and herald.
Paul wrote this in a comment. Nice! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I wish I could have found a turn-off button to the brain today. Because it was of little use to me. And as for talking to myself out loud and swearingly, it went on and on, with no solutions, ideas, or hopes being created. By the time it came to Wednesday morning, all I’d done on this blog was the top section of graphics! And didn’t start this paragraph until nine o’clock! So this one will be sparser than usual, sorry.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not a good start!
I never considered washing and shaving until I smelt my B.O. as I got my head down 14 hours later! I did visit the Porcelain Throne with the intention of doing the ablutions after the evacuation, but as I sat there emptying the liquid product from my innards, I realised that the nurse was coming today to redo the ankle ulcer bandaging. I thought, well, I’ll do it later… but ashamedly, it wasn’t done at all!
The morning rain rained down. I did notice it didn’t rain up (Hehe!).
This is the second brew of the day, which should mean the last brew, as I’m restricted to only two mugs daily. I consumed it as I worked hard, confused about what I was doing and possibly making more errors than ever before. On the bright side, was so kind to me. I don’t think I had more than ten shocks all day!
The precipitation persisted for a while longer.
The Community Nurse Arrives. This always cheers me up! She set about getting the swathes of bandaged off of the right leg for me. The punctured ulcer was looking and feeling much better this time. And no sooner had she let the air in; an irresistible urge to scratch at the wound tempted me so much to chafe at it. Hehe! So, I think it might be getting better now. We, well, I, spoke of the eye problems. The nurse said I should get the Caregiver to call the Doctor for me. Carer Kara did it yesterday, but I’m unsure if she did it in my state now. Maybe she did later when she arrived today? I’m getting confused. Well, I fancy that; I’m getting confused! Har-Har!
The rain was getting lighter.
I got a letter informing me that I will be made an appointment at the Highbury Hospital shortly, and they will let me know later by post. The photo above was taken on my last visit.
Only the odd droplet of rain falling now. I went on the balcony and took a Kodak Tim from the end car park, where the mud-slide was. Plenty of it, too.
Then, as the eyes faded, I gave up on the computer and prepared the day’s meal. I made some roast spuds in the oven and added them to the sweet and sour ready-made meal I cooked in the microwave. I’m sorry I bothered with it, now! It tasted just plain overly sweet; what happened to the sour bit of the contents? I’ll not be bothering with one of these again, Mr Asda!
Went to do the washing up, , I again the server trolley wheel. To a certain degree, I swore, rather viciously, washed the things up and took this photograph from the kitchen window. I love it when a snap comes out okay.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What for you is happiness?
Not being loveless?
What are your favourite meal appetisers?
Mini Steak & Blue Cheese Pizzas?
Maybe tasty Stuffed dates with Ricottas?
Or, like me, cheesy baked potatoes? Whatever – I’d love you to find that bliss!
(Starting this blog, Tuesday Morning) The day of the one-eyed Inchy! Actually, Tuesday was as well. All day long, things were out of sync. My eyesight and hearing were not good, and I could not hear the intercom, door chime, or fire alarm activation. Cartilages Chloe and Carole were having a ball, freely issuing me pain at a whim. Both gave way a few times, but not at the wrong time, so no crumbling to the floor. Haha! (I imagine they would have been disappointed in this). And must have thought they deserved to win the prize for the ‘Bestest-Inchy-Brain-Interferers’ of the day. But that dubious honour was granted to , with a mention in despatches for & . The ankle ulcers and were both much kinder to me today. I’m really not sure if I was having , , repeatedly falling asleep, or a combination of the three. But little got done that I set out to do. I felt so lacklustre. Memory promoting from photos from here on. The urine colour was not too bad later on.
Off to the . Messy! The Asda order arrived. I handed some boxes and bags to the deliveryman, who kindly filled them for me at the door. Then I carted them to the kitchenette, putting the things away in storage, the freezer, the fridge, the cupboards, the floor, and the junk room. I took some Kodak Tim photographs along the way. This selection had a bottle of disinfectant (Lemon), bleach, and washing-up liquid. Here, I have a Milk Roll, sliced bread, kitchen towels, bicarbonate of soda, soda water, and some of the economy kitchen towels, which I use to clean my spectacles, hearing aids, and cough into. Thick-skinned red potatoes are used to make baked spuds. Small fresh tomatoes and quick to cook potato cakes. A ready-made feast of cooked meals. Lamb Hotpot, Jamaican patties, Cumberland pie, and a sweet & sour battered balls meal. I’m not going to starve! Hehehe! I must have ordered the wrong milk. It’s rare for me to get something wrong with food orders; this hardly ever happens. Ahem! Later, I tried this organic whole fresh milk. It was nothing special, but it was perfectly edible. My buying it again is not liable. There was still room free in the fridge after packing everything into it. Made a diversion to the wet room. For another of the visits. This time, in control, but only just this time. I sensed a possible resurgence underway from . After noting the lack of any post-evacuation rumbling and grumbling from the innards, I made this decision.
A series of mini s, all through the afternoon, broke my already fragile concentration.
The drizzle stopped and the grey skies turned a lovely blue hue. Unfortunately, the blotches were still on the Kodak Tim snaps. Humph! It looked to me, as the right ankle ulcer covered with the compression wrapping was doing better. That was because the wanting to scratch at the itching had returned. On the other foot, it looked like that ulcer was brewing up to do a bursting out. I can’t win. I dread the thought of having to walk with both ankles erupting and both Cartilages giving me grief. I’ll never be able to get to the surgery, clinic or hospital. Thinking this gave me a dread of having to use a wheelchair. Please, I hope not!
I took this evening’s snap from the kitchen window and then worked out my plans for the daily meal. The ready-made meal with the shortest sell-by date was the Lamb Hotpot. I got some frozen potato chunks cooking in the oven. I checked the timing for the hotpot, and it was six minutes in the microwave. I got some lamb gravy ready to mix. Then retired to 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 watch the end of the ‘Heartbeat’ programme. as the first adverts came on the screen. Waking up in response to a giant whole-body-twitch and jump! I recalled a bit of a dream I had been having. It involved me and Grizelda in mutual contact! So, say no more! Then I smelled the potatoes cooking in the oven… Ien route to the kitchenette, hit my shoulder on the edge of the door frame when I entered the kitchen. I found that the potatoes needed a little extra time to get them as I like them. Very well singed! So I put the meal in the microwave, and as the microwave pinged, I took the potatoes out of the oven. I acquired the standard burnt finger on the oven racking. (I Germolened it.)Then I made some Germolene-flavoured Bisto lamb gravy, adding a drop of Winiary Przyprawa seasoning into the mix. Then, put the potatoes into the bowl, and poured the gravy over them. Followed by scrapping the lamb hotpot contents out of the tray on top. What an absolute feast of a meal this was! It just may have been the flavour of the Germolene that gave it an extra tang? Hehehe! I had a pot of mandarins in jelly to round off the meal. Passed wind, bleached and drifted of into another mind-blank or sleep. Woke up to find the food tray had fallen, leaving crumbs and gravy all over my new nightshirt, my legs, bandages and the carpet. I had to change my attire. Carer Chris arrived and laughed when he saw the T-shirt that Sister Jane bought me a few years ago. He took a Kodak Tim snap of it and then of the sun setting from the balcony windows. It was so sad to see so many new blotches in the Horizon pictures, sob!
It was good of Chris to take the piccies for me, all the same.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – May your plans not get stunted, Nor your valuables get hunted, May your problems be ameliorated, Your hopes do not get frustrated. That your sanity can be corroborated, Your computer doesn’t get corrupted, And your dreams will not be interrupted! May good fortune be indicated! May your problems be quadrated!
