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The three most annoying things currently harassing me are the following:
① Peripheral Neuropathy Pete dying off neurotransmitters are not letting me sense the keyboard buttons as I press them, resulting in far too many corrections were and are needed; no doubt I’ve missed some of them. Ruining my concentration.
② The ankle electric shocks are much more frequent.
③ By far, the worst of these handicaps, ailments, pains, and frustrations is the unregulated nasty, agony-giving twinges emanating from the poor Little Inchie via the inserted catheter tube. This was much more unfortunate because I could not find a position where they ease off. I can sit still and be relatively pain-free, and then they return without me doing anything! I’ve tried adjusting the Protection Pants, but that doesn’t change anything. Yet, at times, I can be hobbling along with the walking stick, and the pain dissipates? As for bending down or stretching, they are a no-no.
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I rose from the bed at 05:10 hrs. First, I detached the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Then, I went to the wet room; the Porcelain Throat was needed.
Just a little painful.
This is a fantastic view from the kitchen window. Unfortunately, the blotches were caught in all the external photographs today, Humph!
Working on the blog, and a Carer arrived. Same chap as last week, a nice young man. He issued the medications and got the diabetic socks on my legs.
With the pain from Little Inchie, I asked him if he could help me put on the just-delivered Depend pants. He willingly agreed to help me out.
I got the pants pulled up, and that instant, the pain level from Little Inchie trebled!
It was torture! I soon changed my mind, and at the same time, self-loathing erupted when I realised what I’d done… Again! I ordered the wrong size pants, Small instead of large! I’d pissed myself off, something wicked! The genitals were crushed as the catheter tube pulled tight! I grabbed the scissors post-haste and cut the PPs off.
Then I asked the lad if he’d help me put on a pair of normal PPs. He was patient with me and assisted me
once more. The pain continued anyway, off and on, without evident causation? These white pants are so thick that I think they catch Little Inchie more than the slimmer ones, but they are just as effective as the Depend ones. I ensured the lad was treated to nibbles and drinkies by showing my appreciation for his time. It was his last night shift call, and I felt a smidge sad at keeping him from getting home.
After he’d departed, I made a brew of Glengettie. I took this snap with the usual blotches on it. Nice colouring, all the same.
I made up a waste bag and got on with the blogging, albeit stumblingly and error-ridden. These white pants continued hurting things below. I took an extra Codeine, hoping it might ease things. Huh! Of course, it did nothing to help pain-wise.
Carer Kimberley arrived. She knew I was in pain and showed concern; bless her. I told her of the earlier woes with Little Inchie. I decided to hand her the box of 30 Depend pants: no, 29 now I’ve tried on and scissored off one pair. Hahaha! My wondering wrongly cost me a good bit of cash! 
But thought that if I sent the box to Meridian to issue or use someone else… with less of a midriff on them, and they have also been catheterised, then they could possibly use them in the event that they run out!
♬ If I can help somebody as I grovel along,
Help somebody with Protection Pants or a song
If I can help somebody from doing wrong,
Do a bit of good before I’m gone…
Then, my living shall not be in vain! ♬
I then ordered some large protection pants from the Amazon site. I made double-sure I’d ordered the correct size this time! Well, I did that last time (Well, I thought that I had) and still got it wrong, didn’t I? These were also dearer, but they looked more comfortable and seemingly had a waistband on them. We’ll see when they arrive. Amazon said they would deliver on Tuesday, which is good cause I’m going to Nottingham City Hospital tomorrow. To have the knees and ankles checked for Arthritis and Cartilage problems. Now there’s a word... problems! I just had a glancing idea for an ode, then. I’ll make a note and try it out for tomorrow’s Ode… then again, maybe not. Cause the lift to the City is coming really early, and I need to get things ready to go with me, they gave me a list… When I find it, I’ll check what’s on it. I must finish blogging early today to do the shower & ablutions and ready the clothing. I hope that a carer comes in the morning to help me with the pants and trousers, socks and shoes on, make sure I’ve got everything sorted and make sure that the flat is left safely… I’m nervous now, just thinking about what can go wrong! There’s no limit to that!
There were so many blotches on this snap of a puffer cloud that I was disappointed. I’ve tried cleaning the lens with a cleaner stick and impregnated tissues. Yet still they appear? Such are the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchie to curse with lousy luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, 
perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Cataract Katie, Neuropathy Pete, Doreen Dementia and Incogniscent Iris are the main culprits. There are others, of course.
There are beautiful clouds in the sky. But I suppose that’s where one would expect them to be. Hehehe!
I took this one from the balcony without opening the windows. I can see just one botch in it, which is hard to differentiate 
amongst the clouds.
The day catheter bag nearly caught me out yet again, with it suddenly filling up so quickly.
Carer Colin, I think it was, came on the next visit. He was a pleasant lad, but I often found it hard to hear what he was saying.
Later, the sun burst through, and I took this shot of the virtually mud-less end car park. A jolly good mixture of vehicle colours was on show for our perusal. The light blue one, as per usual, parked on the yellow chevron ‘do-not-park-here’ lines. But hey, why should I bother?
Getting a smidge darker out there now. Another gorgeous selection of clouds to find figures in!
Then, blow me, if half an hour later, out came the sun again, forcing her way through the ever-darkening clouds. Mayhap, a ‘Goodnight all!’ message? Hehehe!
Better get some fodder sorted out, then… off to the kitchenette, and I conjured up a simple meal for a simple, tired old man.
I enjoyed this one, especially the cunningly cooked potatoes in the crock pot that I sliced while still hot, sprayed with oil, and put into the preheated oven for ten minutes with the vegetable pastie. I ate it all up, washed the utensils and plate, and swiftly fell asleep watching the goggle box.
Carer Richard arrived.
He sorted the medications, and I asked him to remove the diabetic socks. I asked him if he could call earlier in the morning and explain the hospital visit.
Said my farewells and climbed into the hospital bed so kindly supplied for me. It took a while for me to get into a position that didn’t give pain from the catheter tube, and I was soon off on the land of nod.
Ahhh!
TTFNski
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Not a lot passed last night.
Not ‘arf!
Mug of Glengettie tea, with four biscuits dunked.
Those makes that come and go on the lens are back. No matter what I try to clean it with, they suit themselves, whether of not to smudge my Kodak Camera photographs. Tsk!
I took another shot and zoomed in a bit. But the smudges are there in this one, too.
The smudge was still there in the end car park shot!
Brightening up out there now as the sun intrudes on the rather pretty view. The smudge is still on.
I felt it coming, I thought?
Photo to the left.
This one is to the right.
I went into the kitchen again to prep the meal.
gave me a turn, I grabbed hold of the draining board to steady my elf. And there, lying on the kitchen towel, in the draining rack, was the wristlet alarm! Gorrit!
I made a vegetable stew today. All I needed to do was to bake some potato bits to add to the vegetables and sauce already in the saucepan. No smudge?
I woke up, although I wasn’t unaware I’d fallen asleep. I could see the mess I had made on the blog, presumably in a stupor of some sort. A 
was engaged, and I nervously checked the cooker, taps, etc., with surprising results. 
I found them! Eventually… well, alright then, I found two of them, or maybe one? I can’t tell the difference in the lower left circle with the prawn. Is it a shrimp? I’m not optimistic about the chocolate, either.
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Dark again.
Motionless.
Carer Christopher called. The little scallywag.
First view with Kodak Tim.
Whoops!
The clouds are even more beautiful now.
Later I took another shot of the kitchen sky view.
Still too dark.
Any idiot could work this one out…
Sorry about this…
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
throughout the day, added up to only four!
Night pouch.
Medicationings.
My ankles look fine.
The first emptying of the day bag.
Opening the balcony windows.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!
Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.
I took this night view and got settled into 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, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep
back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
& 
both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. 
