Oh, dear, I’m wearing black diabetic socks & slippers.
Took a shot of the end car park, no mudslide.
Porcelain Throne visited.
Returned to the computer and noticed it had been raining. A mudslide had started in the end car park. The rain stopped. It only lasted for ten minutes.
Into the kitchenette to refill the bladder water bottle. No rain, but the earlier bit we had was clinging to the glass of the window. Opened the window to take this one.
I’ve got some peas, onions, and sweetcorn in the slow cooker, ready for later. Made a brew of Glengettie. Then cut up some potatoes to bake to add to the meal. Not a single cut finger. Got them in the oven
Blue skies and grey clouds.
The front car park on Citrus Walk.
The Food Fiasco…
I served up the nosh on a tray. Bread and the last pot of vegetarian lemon yoghourt, bread and some mini tomatoes on the tray with the seasoned stew of sorts. Casserole? Soup? I’d put some liquid smoke in the mix. But when I got down with my meal on the tray, I sat in front of the TV on the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working, tormenting Harold’s Haemorroids, recliner. Put the TV on to watch a recorded Heartbeat episode.
I got deep into the programme and was consuming the stew, or whatever it’s called. I’d got through about half of what was in the dish, and just as I remembered, I had not put the potatoes in from the oven, I got the smell of burning up my nose.
A semi-panic mode gripped me, and I put down the food tray to rush into the kitchen… Luckily, what happened next was as I stood up… Gave way on me, and my knee greeted the carpet and forced me into using swearwords and curses. My mind was then concentrated on getting myself up again.
Which, using 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, I hauled myself up into it…
Unfortunately, I caught the chair with the food on it and spilt the dish all over the tray.
I carefully got back on my feet, and now my concentration was on getting the tray cleaned up before the grey spilt through the holes at the end of the tray, out onto the floor.
This, I did. Using kitchen towels, I cleaned around, and then smelled the burning from the oven, and remembered why I was getting up in the first place.
I got the oven door open, expecting the worst, and the sliced roasted spuds were… well, cooked to perfection, just as I like them.
I added them to the dish on the tray… . I caught my hand on the oven tray while taking it out.
By the time I’d cleaned that tray and ointmentated the burn. Then, I returned to the TV room with the added potatoes. I rewound the Heartbeat episode to catch up on what I’d missed, and started eating. I’d made too many potatoes and had virtually started eating another meal. I couldn’t manage it all, but ate all of the potatoes. For some reason… , visited, and this was unexpected but great!
Even when the next calamity took place while washing the pots in the kitchen, I handled it in true High-Mode-Horis fashion, “Sod-it, Sode em all”!
Compared to the earlier responses to the mishaps, I just accepted things as being expected and anticipated. Part of my everyday life nowadays. Gawd, if only it could be conjured up when something happens untoward and I get visits from ? I dream, of course, but in a state where anything seems possible. Can he be conjured?
lost the plot again there…
Ah, yes, the ! I dropped the dish into the water in the washing-up bowl, and a few drops splashed out onto the floor.
It set the Flood Alert Alarm off!
Ejaz did a decent job today. He did the laundry, helped me clean the oven, took the waste bags to the shoot, and mopped the kitchen. Unfortunately, he used the speed mop, which left the floor sticky.
He put the night diabetic shocks on for me.
Did a full-body check on me. Reminded me about the Fire Alarm inspection tomorrow.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Ponder the nature of the beast, at its best.
Disposition, personality, temperament, avidest…
It’s bodgiest, boggiest, boldest, bolshiest,
Briefest, brightest, briskest, bristliest,
Crookedest, crossest, crudest, cruellest,
Care needed to identify its cunningest,
You’ll be obliged to despise and detest,
Identify his traits, lies and falseness,
Gracelessness, gimmickiest, at his glibbest,
At his dishonestest, sneakiest, & sleeziest,
Danger in this concealed recreantest,
Dangerous at his dorkiest, this dweebiest! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A bit darker.
Oddly blue morning sky.
The calendar clock changed.
Worth mentioning (just about); 1. Blood-Test Appointment arrived on Monday. 2. A Community Nurse visited and put on new plaster for Lymphoedema Leslie on the leg. Said she would be back on Monday or Tuesday to check it. 3: Ten minutes later, the plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg fell off. 4: Carer Mirza, put another plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg for me. 5: Ten minutes later, the plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg fell of again. 6: I got the old plaster back on and wound tape over the top of it. 7: Carer Ejaz did a body check, and ointmentated the wound on my left hand. 8: Text message from the Red Cross, a technician will be calling next Tuesday. I think it will be about the wheelchair? Just guessing here. 9. Email referring to the neurology surgery clinic: they will be sending an assessment logistics form to be filled in and returned, and confirming the November appointment at the Neurologic Clinic, 1st floor, Leengate Clinic. They recommend bringing a Carer along with me. 10. Email from the Dentist, with the usual threats of financial loss and charges if I fail to attend next Thursday’s appointment, or am late arriving. They also suggested I bring a Carer with me. 11. I found I had run out of money. I need to speak with Carer Ejaz to see if I can stop by an ATM on the way to the dentist. This means we won’t have time to do the laundry, cleaning, or financial checks. I anticipate getting into a mess next week with no clean clothing, and even filthier flat to live in, and a call from the bank manager. 12. Aha! A good one! Carer Mizra has got the ringtones on the new phone to change! Much louder. I can hear when anyone calls, now!
OLD STARMER FUN CARTOON – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – OLD ODE – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I thought I’d discovered a way of saving the photographs without CorelDraw cutting me off. I had to use the old CorelDraw; the new version, which cost nearly £400, is not letting me export or save. After 6 hours of importing photos one at a time and saving them individually, I found out that CorelDraw would not let me save anything in the old version! It kept either freezing or closing down on its own accord. I had to keep stopping for Ejaz’s call. Ejaz got the bags for me in the kitchen when the food delivery arrived. Issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on for me, and Barrier creamed the bleeding thigh. Then, it took me a long time to put the fodder away. A good job that I was up earlyish, and got the ablutions and torso-medicationings done. Eyes, ears, toothache tincture and shaved without a single cut! Smug-Mode-Utilised. Back to the computer. It closed down on me twice and froze on me three times. By the time I’d got the photos from yesterday in the WP gallery, with interruptions, I’d been at it for eight hours! After all that effort, I hope I can get them off the gallery to go in without any more cock-ups! Ah, well, here I go… Oh, dear, the second Carer call is due anytime now. I’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck? No, don’t waste your breath. Haha!
Just some of the clothing that no longer fits me. Taken in mid-clear-up. This rack was chocker-block full. At least Joe saved some for me after checking if they should fit onto my chunky, whacking great, super-duper-sized, walloping, cyclopean, elephantine body. Not many! The rail racking had even less that would fit! Two 60-litre waste bags full of unfitting clothing were packed and ready to be picked up by Carer Joe later. Joe made a funny quip after we stopped to get the laundry sorted out. I think I said about the drier?
“When Gerry looked after, in despair… His clothes racks were bare!” Hehehe!
I had three messages, well, phone calls that I’d had; One from the medics, One that I couldn’t decipher, one that I couldn’t hear from the Doctor’s surgery. This one said, “You’ve contacted the Doctor to ask for a home visit, didn’t you?” I vaguely remember Carer Joe calling them to get an appointment. He may have asked if a home visit was available. I asked him to ring back later. Carer Jazz came, not Joe, so the confusion may have developed because Ejaz didn’t ask. Then, I later got a call from the matron, but I couldn’t recall what it was about.
Ejaz said I have to call Matron Jackie. That’s all on the note he left.
Back to the plot, I got a bit off-kilter there. Sorry.
Oh, I nearly forgot to put the meal photos on. Roasted some potatoes in the oven. Mixed then in the ready meal.
Got them into the oven. Just out of the microwave. A darned decent tasty flavour!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I stirred back into the offendedness of life’s miserable existence. I was worried. About the CorelDraw farce, the computer blue screen of death comes up. The bank balance received by text has never been lower since 1980!
I’m confused by all the medical messages I’m getting and blown away by how many helpers suddenly come in. It baffles me when someone mentions something from a few days ago, and I cannot determine its concerns. I vaguely get partial memories come back, but they make things worse and worry me all the more. I’m waffling again, aren’t I? I’m well-versed and pretty good at that!
I was in the wet room by about 05:15hrs.
As I stripped off, I realised I had only had one mini-seizure in an hour, and more importantly, I was not in any depression! Yet with all the extra bothers, confusion and misleading medical mayhem, I had good reason to be feeling down – but I wasn’t!
Only the other day, when I had a mother of Deep, I couldn’t think why.
The opposite happened this morning. I thI’veI’ve worked out why. It is when the reasons for a depression weigh heavily on me I can go into a sort of, well, ‘Sod-it, I can’t win!’ mode. Sometimes, how I feel now is the reason. Or maybe not.
I tried the tricks explained earlier to get CorelDraw to permit me to save and store things. I lost hours and hours as CorelDraw froze or crashed repeatedly. No, I’ve written that already, I think.
The shaving was back near to normal this morning. Three nicks, a dropped razor, and the aftershave Brut bottle. There were no other injuries, though. Unless you count when on leaving the wet room, I shoulder-charged the edge of the doorframe. Although that didn’t actually hurt much, it started off that did hurt a bit. She’ll have my shoulder socket ball out one of these flipping days! Hehe!
The only thing that bothered me was that had returned. I won’t complain; she has given me several days of rest. I’ve missed her roaming stabbing pains. Secretly, whenever she attacks, I try to guess where she’ll hit me next time. Areas so far that have felt her wrath: Neck, jaw, shoulders, arms, back, or, even occasionally, the upper abdomen. That’s her favourite attack route for me. Her abdominal playground is under one arm and around the other. She rarely gets me there. (Just watch how things go now that I’ve just said that!)
Ah, much better!
The part-mystery of this note has been solved. The surgery receptionist called me on the mobile, so it was not easy to hear her, but she was patient with her patients. Hehe! She made the appointment for my yearly Health Check(shown earlier), but I am not concentrating well today. Nothing new there, then. For Thurs, May 29th, a home visit! Great!
Had an early meal tonight. Salad. A sliced baked potato and tomato (Dutch), caramelised beetroot, and red onions (tasty!).With some Milk Roll sliced bread slathered with the gorgeously tasty No Butter, Butter (by Flora). The only let-down was the so-called Mature Cheddar cheese. I’ve tasted tastier newspapers! But all the rest of the dish made was up for this, somewhat.
As a warning to any UK mild, insipid cheese-lovers, it was Cathedral City Mature. If you happen to like tasteless, weak, bland, pale, uncrumbly, rubbery cheddar, this is the brand for you!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – First time in Parliament? Expect irregularities,
Want to accustomise? First, you should acclimatise…
Be the awarest, awesomest, & awfullest,
Knowing your foe’s weaknesses can only be wise,
Also, consider if you really do realise…
You need to know your foe’s atmospherics,
Beware the ethereal, but listen to their fallacies,
It’s essential to avoid verbal catch-22s,
Ignore the incompatibilities, self-contradictions,
Their abnormalities and ambiguities…
Lies, debasements, and talking contradictorily,
They use these cons daily, customarily,
Use reverse psychology on Keir’s bootlickers,
Digressions and deviancies are expectednesses!
<<<<>>>>
Protect yourself, avoid the moral shanghaier,
You can’t miss him, the PM, Keir Starmer,
To gain faith, become a backhander…
He likes Arsenal, cash and things ocular,
Look left, right, you’ll see a thimblerigger,
Starmer’s lies shoot out sort of spicular,
Just sit there looking nowhere in particular,
You’ll be surrounded by psychobabblers,
You’ll be increasing your cash in your coffers,
Your unchecked expenses for acupuncture…
Toilet rolls, lipstick, maybe garden furniture,
Computer… owt to increase your filthy lucre,
If, by chance, you got in under Labour,
Keir will let you catch hylomania!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Manky day. 6 stitches. CorelDraw charged me £345 + VAT for the new version. Why can’t I get any help with these things? I loaded CorelDraw—and it crashed! I can’t save or export anything. I took eight photographs and doctored them before discovering this wayward glitch. They are gone forever.
I wish I was.
Two phone calls from the surgery, but I only understood one of them.
The laundry room dryer was packed up. Joe, on his way, put them in a different dryer. He had to go down to collect them, and I took a tumble, bending down in the dryer and picking up socks. I think I dropped more socks than there were in the drying. I guess I’ve become an addicted sock-dropper?
My leg growths were bleeding when I took an earlier tumble while sorting out the clothes not needed in the junk room.
Broken-hearted, what a bloody day!
I finally got some food at 22:00 hrs. I can’t use or publish any more graphics or photographs, but I have some old ones I might use. I’m fed up with the mangled, broken, toothache-ridden back teeth.
Lower than I’ve felt for years now.
More medical callers, and a food order tomorrow. But I’ll try my best to get CorelDraw working. Or, I’ll find time to sort out a ploy to get around the problem. Possibly a smidge of blind hope?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SMUG-MODE ENGAGED
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Thinking! Thinking back, I began to hallucinate, Here, giving me a cuddle, was Auntie Kate, I guess I beginning, starting to levitate… Floating back in time, young again, lanate, Grizelda began to maxilate… Fondle, hugging me, & to mussitate, We did things considered misappropriate, Guilt? I no longer felt, nor was I novitiate, Freedom, my thoughts no longer obdurate, Physical ailments began to obfuscate, Gawd, this illusion is super-great! Am I dead? A ghost, or maybe a wraith?
Am I being given a forecast or a prophecy? Am I dead or alive? I viewed this whimsically, May I be en route to see St. Peter? I’ve paid my debts! Rent or electricity, Why do I sense that I’m feeling guilty? Is this a dream, a seizure or a Whoopsie? Griselda is still toying pleasurably with me, I no longer feel elderly, tired or weary! Under my bed is now a guzzunder, I’ve not seen one of these since 1953, What year is it? I don’t feel at all distressingly? The sky and globe have turned all yellowy… Opaque, angels, pink clouds, worryingly… St. Peter has not yet greeted me!
Am I getting sillier? I feel more cheerier! Is this an end-of-life bamboozler? Wherever I am, it feels cosier, I suppose it should, being free of Starmer? Yes, I must have died; I’ve never been happier, Oh, here’s a transparent cheerleader… Glittering eyes, big bust, much curvature, Ah, she’s just been attacked by Grizelda, Maybe because she gave me a sly twire? Heaven or Hell, I feel much toeier… No bother from Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder or Anne Gyna, Grizelda’s back, with handcuffs and a tether… Prompting movement in the tallywhacker!
Well, I’m interested and acquiescing, A billion-long queue of souls is forming, Grizelda & me at the end, that’s galling, It’s for St. Peter’s gate, I’m assuming, For questioning and allocating… Heaven or Hell’s door selecting? Grizzly said, there’s a third door we might be using! I asked for what? This is so confusing, That’s for souls picked to be returning… The answer was more than terrifying, Sent back to earth, that’ll be intimidating! For those chosen, Starmer will be waiting, Still be cheating, lying, stealing & killing… I suddenly came out of my daydreaming, Starmer is still in power; it’s heartbreaking! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – This morning, I kept waking up at 04:00hrs. Repeated this action endless times before nodding off again into a deep sleep. I was woken up at about 07:30hrs. By Carer Ejaz. Who told me it had taken him about ten minutes to wake me up! I swiftly fell asleep again. Ejaz was concerned when I sat up and grabbed my lower belly in response to aches and pains. None were awful, but they remained for a few hours after Ejaz had gone. As Ejaz was issuing the medications, apparently, I nodded off again! I did not move from the bed during Ejaz’s visit. He removed the nocturnal catheter bag and applied Barrier cream to the leg-strapping wounds. They were much less bothersome and painful this morning. Being in bed for such a long time made the base of my sternum far more sore than it was yesterday, but the wounds looked better. Ejaz took this photo of the catheter contraption for me. I got the diabetic socks put on for me. Ejaz lost some time with having to rouse me. And I had to shoot off; I’d not moved during his visit.
When Ejaz left, I fell asleep yet again! Hence, there was little time to catch up or much photographicalisation today.
When I finally gingerly got up on my feet, my stomach ache steadily improved. But my concentration was not good at all.
I got on the computer, and the catheter pouch filled shortly after. When I went to empty it, the tube on the release valve was not there, making many messy emptyings throughout the day. I searched the flat, thinking it must have come off when Ejaz emptied it. He usually does not take it off. Sometimes, he’ll put it on. After failing to find the tube, I thought he might have pulled it off when he removed the nocturnal bag. He then put it in the kitchen rubbish bag, which has since been put down the waste chute. So, I’ll struggle on. Let’s face it, I’m good at struggling. Hehehe!
I was prepping to get today’s Ode started. But feeling better in myself now. Then… I found I’d left the damned hot water tap running again. How many times in two days? Three, I think!
A massive vagueness overcame me. It stayed visiting me until about 16:00hrs. It was in full flow when Carer Joe called around 13:15hrs. I’m unsure what we spoke about other than Joe’s plans to start sorting the clothes in the junk room tomorrow. So, maybe there will not be a blog for tomorrow, for the first time since I was in hospital in 2007. I think, but thinking is no longer a strong point for me. Hehe!
I took this snap on the left from the kitchenette window. I remembered to cause I knocked a jar of mushroom ketchup off the window ledge, and it landed on my . Not that it bothered me at all. I merely laughed it off and started singing to myself.
Then, I took another memory, prompting a snap of my beloved tree copse. I may have used the wrong photo here, or the computer posted the wrong one? Anyway, taking this snap hurt me more than the toe incident.
Then I realised that the sun covering Khagoule had fallen into the water jug on the floor.
So, I had to hang it on the shower curtain in the wet room to help it dry out. I also turned on the heater to encourage it to dry.
I visited the Porcelain Throne as well. Trotsky Terence was in control.
It was a messy job that took a long time because there was no hot water. Did I mention I’d left the hot tap running earlier?
The sun died temporarily while I was fetching water from the kettle, and walking with the walking stick was a bit risky.
I got some potatoes into the slow cooker that I forgot to tell you about earlier. 08:00hrs approximately) There are no secrets on this WordPress blog, Inchy Today!
I’m back on this blog after checking, updating and posting yesterday’s post to WordPress. Then, I started on this post.
I’ll check the potatoes. This is going to be a long job. Turn them (if ready), put them in the basin, bash them up, add no-butter butter, sea salt, Worcestershire, and Soy sauce, and then the tricky bit: grate and mix in Leicester cheese. Put the mixture in the oven and cook until the top has crispened. Prep[ping took me 35 minutes, and the washing things up after took me over half an hour.
I pray I don’t let them burn… Please!
It took me hours to get the potatoes sorted and mashed with the shredded Leicester cheese and red onions. I found evidence in the morning, blood on the fridge door that indicated a cut thumb or fingernail) I washed the pots and put the dish into the oven to crisp it up nicely. This usually takes a good half-hour. Here it is before cooking. Carer Joe arrived as I was putting it in.
Medications issued. Joe said we would start sorting out tomorrow in the junk room. He’ll take the laundry down to the washer, come back, and we can sort the clothes out. This will free up many coat hangers. Because there are so many trousers, jumpers, shirts, and coats that no longer fit me. They don’t call me Mr Blobby for no reason, you know. Haha! He should have time to nip down, get the laundry in the dryer, and dry it for once. Joe’s got it all organised beforehand, which is a great help.
The potatoes were removed from the oven and put on a tray with some bread. I added some cut tomatoes, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV to eat the meal. It took me a while to eat it all, but I did! Then, heaven… Zzz!
Carer Ejaz woke me up two hours later.
He removed my diabetic socks and mended the nocturnal catheter-damaged day bag. He also added a tube from another point to the current one. I checked the kitchen and bathroom and got my head down, but I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter pouch on. It’s hard to believe, I know.
So, when I was woken up by the pain from poor Little Inchie being tugged on with the weight as the pouch filled up, I had to get up to empty the pouch post-haste. Could I get back to sleep? No!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Into power Starmer did hurdle,
Now, we await his downward hurtle,
He looks mundane, boring and sensible,
Proved winning power was accomplishable,
At lying, he’s fluently forked-tongueable,
Truth to him is customisable,
Like his excuses, taking treats from Arsenal,
Despite his proving to be adorkable,
His stealing from pensioners was awful!
To him, greed & dishonesty is normal,
I’m in decrial; he has my disapproval…
Unfortunately, he’s unremovable,
Despite his dishonesty & being dubitable,
Despite proving to be adorkable,
Taking backhanders, & acquisitional,
I’m bald, but he makes my hair bristle!
I’d like to meet him, in a quiet twitchel…
To declare my feelings, which are emotional,
I stew in hatred, sink into a dwall,
All I can do is write anti-Starmer doggerel!
The scum-ball makes me so epithetical,
I’ve never known a PM so pathetical…
I hope his reign will be expediential,
This Labour party; can it be extirpable?
To socialism, he’s not endemical,
His policies seem enigmatical,
I can’t see a party that could be a rival.
Tories? Sunak turned them suicidal,
LibDems and Greens, both hopeful,
Reform, a far-right furuncle?
Starmer’s a bully, so says his uncle,
Words not to describe Keir? Affable & merciful,
Starmer’s end may be happenstantial!
Send a bottle of gin laced with weedkiller?
Naughty, but I’d like to see his funeral,
I’d love to be there at his beheadal,
Good heavens, I brought on a smile! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Labour admits disability cuts will force 250,000 people (including 80,000 children & pensioners) into poverty.
Keir Starmer’s Labour Government are cutting almost £ 5 billion from the Welfare budget via targeted attacks on the sick and disabled. This will include excluding young disabled people (aged 18–21) from incapacity benefits. This “Spring Statement” has finally revealed the Labour Government’s impact statement. It says that more than 1,000,000 disabled people will lose their disability benefits.
The Labour attack on disability benefits will ultimately push 250,000 people (including 50,000 children) into poverty. It’s a sickening and frightening situation for hundreds of thousands of disabled Brits.
Awful. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:14hrs: Sorted the catheter contraption bags.
Carer Ejaz appeared as I was starting the computer. He did a good job. He medicated the catheter strap wounds and those on the left wrist and arm. Then, I put on the diabetic socks. Ejaz graded the nocturnal catheter wee-wee. He quickly checked the torso for bruises and creamed a couple of them. He checked the taps and stoves and reported that I’d left the hot water tap running. Tsk!
So, no ablutions were able to be done this morning! But the first call to the wetroom.
Took this snap… Just as Cartilage Chloe gave way, I hit my elbow on the way down against the radiator. Landing on Cartilage Carole’s right knee, the strap on the catheter contraption shot off, and the tube gave poor Little Inchie a hell of a tug! Naturally, I just laughed it off. Getting into the other room on all fours was painful, as I was trying to hold onto the loose strap to prevent another tugging session! Naturally, I just laughed it off. After what felt like an hour or more, I had to leave the walking stick behind. I got to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Hauling my flobby-wobbly body up onto the recliner, I twisted to get myself to sit down. I soon recovered enough, rose gingerly onto my feet, and hobbled back to the kitchen to get the walking stick. I pressed on… – right against the ingrowing toenail again! Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After giving off a howl, growl, and a bit of swearing, I reclaimed the walking stick. I caught the wristlet alarm and set it off! Naturally, I just laughed it off.
A few fibs above, I believe!
I took this snap and sat down for some R&R.
Carer Joe woke me for the early afternoon call. Not that I could recall much about it.
I sat down again, nibbled some crisps, and returned to the computer.
I heard the intercom chiming and got up to find it was Carer Rosma. The watch told me it was eight o’clock. Which my befuddled brain thought was in the morning. (I now know it was evening), and I did not have the medications? I thought that Carer Rosma had got the time wrong.
I’m not sure what happened there, but I did post Saturday’s blog and started on this without recalling doing either!
Seizures? Effects of the tumble? Arithmaphobia? Did I fall asleep? Ménière’s disease? FND?
Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me
The notepad had a fair bit of scribble, with very little being decipherable.
Community Nurse Rebbeca on her unexpected visit. She checked the cartilage strappings. She said, “If you have any trouble, call me.” What about? A total mystery to me. I didn’t get any Warfarin because I thought it was morning and had a vague recollection, which I put on the blog earlier, that Carer Joe had been. A worrying episode!
I must remember to ask Joe about it in the morning or whenever he calls. And add it to the Doctor problems to take with us during the appointment.
Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds
I went to look for what to have for my meal and found I’d made a microwave meal and put it in the fridge. I’m a bit concerned now.
No wash or shave. Lost hours in the day. Took a tumble. Left the hot water tap running. Exceedingly weird seizures and loss of time & events.
I’ll get the fodder from the fridge and hopefully catch up in the morning.
For the first time, I was uneasy about my new form of complete time confusion, and realising it was morning when it was night took me a long time. Time, clock, and numbers could indicate that my arithmaphobia is getting more severe. Sorting out the memory timewise almost hurt my brain. I kept skipping between the believed wrong time and returning to the present, inevitably suffering another trip out of the real-time zone repeatedly. And momentarily, if not for longer. I felt positive I was in the correct period. This made working things out even harder. Hopefully, a nurse or even the Doctor may read this, appreciate the severity and the worry it brings, and get me an earlier appointment to see the Doctor.
In the morning, I tried to explain the time discrepancies to Carer Ejaz as best I could.
I’m not convinced he cottoned onto what I was saying. No feedback.
Bean stew with added pickled water chestnuts and brown gungo beans. TASTY!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Or summat like that – – <<<>>><<<>>>
What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations! <<<>>><<<>>> – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I fell asleep last night in 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. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet. I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins.The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course.
Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.
I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling. A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.
At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.
Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell! The skies were even more interesting. The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.
As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.
The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water. After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Evening All!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Unexpected things that can turn us into addicts, Have you considered antibiotics? What’s hidden in the needles of acupuncturists? I’m not trying to be an alarmist… I only wrote this in a little jest! <<<<X>>>> Criminals options; To be an abductor? Take a bribe or backhander Or, be a Harrod’s shoplifter? Easy to become a pensioner killer? Like Starmer, who’s also a liar! <<<<X>>>> Have you ever not voted? Abstained? Allowed your payments to get behind? Not paying your electricity bill, cozened? Is your bank balance getting smaller or dwined? Are food costs driving you out of your mind? Have your hopes and plans now disloigned? Is life no longer fun? Think you have failed? This will be due to one man who conned & lied… The voters now feel they’ve been deluded, He’s murdered pensioners, totally unoppugned! With any opposition now knackered… I think Kerr should be prosecuted! Imprison him, but he should be executed! <<<<X>>>> I suppose I should be feeling guilty… Saying that about Starmer was naughty, He is the P.M. and quiet portly, The first thing he did was to rob my heating money, So, I don’t think he’s a nice honey-bunny! Then, he took £ 6,000 in gifts, shaming HMG, Prices are rising so fast and dramatically… <<<<X>>>> Window cleaners’ prices increase by 20%. The podiatrist the same, 20%, Milk Roll Sliced Bread, up 29% The bank manager is not acquiescent, Electricity costs up 33.3%! Many more, all with Starmer’s consent, The populations plebeians not complaisant,
And Starmer remains calmly arrant! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m miles behind again. I’ll have to cut down on content with so many things going on, including medical and disabled callers. I’ve got on today. No, two today. Got to learn the new equipment controls on one call. The other concerns the new Cognitive Impairment situation (I think). I’ll try to keep the Odes coming.
Whoops. Whoops! Where did the bruised eye come from?
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court’s hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again! Ah, my ankles and legs are a bit better!
They change either shapes, colours or severity every day that Carer Ejaz does a body check.
Tomorrow morning, you can read about the biggest mystery this year. No idea how to explain it now, but I’ll sort something out by way of an explanation. When I figure out what happened.
Finished in the wet room.
View from the kitchenette. These, top & below… Taken by Carer Ejaz. After checking the legs, acne, and eczema and noting the new bruises on my body, he proceeded to check the safety features.
After noon snaps. Front car park.
An unknown mystery about these scratch bruises on my left arm. When Carer ‘Joe’ made his only call of the day, he took the snap as I explained what I could of what had caused the issue. Mainly so he could tell the Doctor if I ever got an appointment with her, as she had demanded. For a Wednesday so the Carer can go with me.
Sweet & Sour vegetable dish.
With Kung-Po sauce added and mixed in. Oh, and some garden peas added!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Entered Friday 0818hrs.
MYSTERY INJURIES Best as I can remember.
Which is in far less detail than what I explained to Carer ‘Joe’, or I think it is.
I was just finishing working on the blog. In the process of saving the work, I recalled that I was getting into a state of disorientation and thought I’d better not continue…
Next, I recall being in the wet room, on my feet. Not on the floor, and I could not feel the injuries to the arm, wrist or neck at all at first. The room seemed its usual mess, but nothing apparent that could indicate my having had a tumble. Weird!
As I turned around, the shower curtain caught my left arm. I felt that, and then I could sense the bruised neck and the eye. Then, the Cartilage Carole started stinging; all these pains came on late, one at a time, a sort of delayed reaction.
How and why did I go into the wet room? I returned to the computer and shut it down without saving my work.
A mixture of despair, frustration, and self-loathing enfolded me. But I was still not feeling right, but not like I usually would be after a seizure or tumble.
When Carer ‘Joe’ came in, I was in my usual plodding-along mode. We spoke of the incident for a while, along with sly looks and smiles.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute. This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap! Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk! Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .
I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.
Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to help when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem! I got the pain gel cream on and .
Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles? Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.
I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here! I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?
Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!) The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.
Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever
I took this shot through the balcony doors. Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever. It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.
Never got back on the computer again today. I’ll try to catch up tomorrow. Not good this. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
LIBERTY-GLOBAL-OLIGARCHS? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WELL, LOOSELY! – – – Let’s delve into the truth of ‘Hope’, clinically,
To see if it developed from ampullosity,
‘Hope’ to me seems somewhat bizarrerie,
Because finding it is hard for me…
I don’t act belligerently or truculently,
I’m a ditherer, I don’t act confidently,
My Carer say’s I’ve got too much benignity,
I think I’m shy, nervous and cowardly,
There I go off the subject again, you see?
I’ll try to concentrate more, hopefully…
‘Hope’, to me, seems to be, hypothetically,
A forlorn dream, with no reality…
I thought ‘Hope’ would help Inchy,
But I forgot about his mental instability,
His? I’m him! Another drift from verity,
I still want ‘Hope’ & help regardlessly,
Although I see the pointless futility,
Sometimes I consider ‘Hope’, frivolously,
The next time, maybe negatively,
Then back to frustration & hostility,
Yet I still try so desperately…
Then I go all unenthusiastically,
Depression falls, I turn apathetically…
A seizure, a giving way from Cartilage Chloe,
The coming arrival of complacently,
And I ‘Hope’ for ‘Hope’, pessimistically,
Body & mind acting chaotically,
Ménière’s Mini-seizures, increasingly,
I think I must not lose hope, glibly…
I even turned for help to quixotry!
As if to prove my eccentricity,
Or maybe that ought to be docility?
My physical ailments seem a triviality,
Finding ‘Hope’ & help, surely unrealistically,
The Lord made my life qualificatory…
A body and mind, deformed & queachy,
Doomed; never be happy or peachy,
I have had luck! But only quadrennially,
I acted rightly & astutely, well, in 1953,
I’m more hopeful for my sempiternity…
Not knowing where or when, for eternity,
Pray, please, no return ticket awaitingly!
If I find ‘Hope,’ will it also make me lucky?
Finding ‘Hope’, I try so persistently…
‘Hope’, is it mythical? It’s beyond me!
Why is it such a mystery to me?
Is ‘Hope’ biodegradable and sugar-free?
Why is it issued unequally, unfairly?
I can’t get any ‘Hope’, that’s a certainty,
No ‘Hope’ within by boundaries, locality,
I live in la-la land despondently…
And a part-reality, customarily,
Like others ‘Hope’ seeking, despondently,
I collect bills and demands; it’s called scripophily,
Carer Joe sorts them out for me weekly,
No offers of hope delivered to Inchy…
Finding ‘Hope’ may help propitiatingly,
‘Hope’ I get it before my necropsy!
Sorry about this Ode’s nugacity,
Call on me, & we’ll have a mug of tea,
Ice cream and/or chocolate biscuits…
I’d love a chinwag, mischievously! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Got yesterday’s nosh photo to go on! Well, I think it was. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t rise until gone 0630hrs this morning. I’d had a long sleep again, broken, but not all that often. I reckon I got six hours in, and that was on the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner. I felt a little perky when I got up and decided to clear the waste bins, etc. I
pictured & emptied the night bag. U6 rating. Took a snap of the morning view out of the kitchenette window. I was hit by another of the odd seizures where I knew what was happening, but I was unsure why or what.
This was followed by general confusion and an almost total lack of concentration. I coughed, bringing up phlegm, and my voice went croaky. Walking, it was not easy to keep my balance.
Carer Ahman arrived. He showed concern and again wanted to phone for an ambulance. I disuaded the lad, telling him I was going to get in the bed as soon as he finished. I assured him I’d use the alarm wristlet if things didn’t improve after I’d had a kip. I’m sure we spoke of other things, but not what about? He put my diabetic socks on and gave me the medications. I got into bed while he was doing his report on his mobile phone. He also shut the curtains for me as the light in the room annoyed me for some reason. Ahman said I was not talking clearly but mumbling more; I think he said the same Sunday morning. I genuinely hope that this is not going to happen each morning. A third time, and I will have to press the alarm. I do not have the foggiest idea why this waking up and fading is happening. At least it didn’t last for long.
I bade him thanks and cheerio and settled in the bed, adjusting the settings to ensure I was not lying too flat. Comfort arrived. Yes, I did nod off for a short while. Waking up without any neck, shoulder, or leg jerkings. That in itself was nice! I was under the impression that I’d slept for a few hours because I was feeling so much better now. The wall clock told me I’d only slept for half an hour, but it did the trick. I wasted no time in taking advantage. I went to take another kitchen window photo and used the speed mop to clean the disgustingly dirty kitchenette floor—I hope I’ve not left it sticky again. Then, I took another snap of the late morning view.
I spent ages trying to get the photos on the blog and got most of them on, but it took an aeon!
My beloved tree copse, looking thin still. Close up of the battling for life leaves. Even closer & higher, the crows
have not arrived yet?
Much to my amazement, Carer Joe arrived. It was already 13:25hrs! So, I assume that
Arithmaphobia Arnold had me fooled again. Maybe I’d had some non-epileptic seizures? I can’t remember having them. Peptac issued, I was thinking of asking for a Codeine, but with Anne Gyna being minimal bother at that time, I didn’t want to give her an excuse to kick off with her mobile stabbing pains, which make breathing a little overheavy, painful & hard work. The unsteadiness of my balance was lingering but slowly getting less frequent. The froggy-sounding voice remains, but none of the serious stuff.
I wondered if I’d gone into the kitchen with Kodak-Tim-2 to snap the incredible view while the floor was still wet. I went to check. Now I really was confused. It must have been many hours ago when I mopped it up; there is no chance it could still be wet. What a plonker! Still, I took another shot at the pathway I could no longer get into Woodthorpe Park. Spit!
However, now things were getting better, not the croaking voice. Anne Gyna had belatedly started greeting me with her roving pains and breathing botherations. However, my dizziness and balance had improved, and I found myself singing.
Great Balls of Fire! What’s going on here? Where have I been? What was I doing? It’s nearly 20:00hrs already!
The Carer will be here anytime now, over the next hour or so, and I’ve not had anything to eat or done the ablutions or medicalisations yet! How can this be happening?
Skin on chips, a vegetable and no-meat meat pastie, pickled chestnuts & mushrooms, two wholemeal rolls to make chip butties out of, and salt & vinegar, pepper and Soya BBQ sauce. (A little too hot for me… anybody fancy a bottle?)
