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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday.Â
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).Â
â‘ . 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.Â
Carer Maryham arrived.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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?Â
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!Â
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.Â
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life.Â
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, ÂŁ300, 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 theÂ
joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip! Â
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dĂ©paysement.
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 oddÂ
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
.
So, ending on a high point, Keep Safe. Cheers!

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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! Â
Up around 05:00hrs.Â
The rubbish from yesterday’s delivery of the damaged saucepans was put near the flat’s entry/exit door.
at the three new saucepans and try to photograph the damage.
today seemed to be okay.
I made up another bag of waste, and then, at long last, I got onto the blogging duties.Â
Less chance of my knocking off the cooker!
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.
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.Â
torn little box, I found the instructions were too small to read. Even with the magnifying glass!

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!)
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.

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Still not good.

Off to the Porcelain Throne.
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 think the sky began to darken early.



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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
I got the three waste bags made into one and placed it near the front door. I then had an
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 
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. 
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.
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.
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.
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.
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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!
This is the third emptying of the catheter day pouch.
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.
And yet, I still felt England would not win the Euro final; my EQ just knew.
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.Â
While washing the pots, I decided to make a sign in the morning and put it on the kitchen wall behind the sink: 
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within. The… Oh, I said all this above. I’m sorry about that.
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…
company for me. But not this time, for the gurgling from within and the wind from the rear end was getting out, so
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
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.
Carer Christopher arrived. As he was sorting the medications, my super-new, old NokiaÂ
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
Getting murky early tonight.
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!

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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.
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.
I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette.
The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved.
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.
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!Â
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!
Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways.
was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, 
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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. Â
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.
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Not a good start!
The morning rain rained down.
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.
The precipitation persisted for a while longer.
chafe at it. Hehe!  So, I think it might be getting better now.
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.
I’m sorry I bothered with it, now!
rather viciously, washed the things up and took this photograph from the kitchen window. I love it when a snap comes out okay.
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(Starting this blog, Tuesday Morning)Â
Memory promoting from photos from here on.
Then I carted them to the kitchenette, putting the things away in storage, the freezer, the fridge, the cupboards, the floor,
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!Â
There was still room free in the fridge after packing everything into it.
Made a diversion to the wet room. For another of the
The drizzle stopped and the grey skies turned a lovely blue hue.
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
grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for ÂŁ300 ten years ago from the charity shop recliner, to watch the end of the ‘Heartbeat’ programme.
oven.
some Germolene-flavoured Bisto lamb gravy, adding a drop of Winiary Przyprawa seasoning into the mix.
lamb hotpot contents out of the tray on top.
Passed wind, bleached and drifted of into another mind-blank or sleep.
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.