I woke in need of a wee-wee. Assessed the time I’d had sleeping; 3-hours… better than two! While waiting for the after-leaking to stop, it took a while; I remembered the food delivery coming twixt 07:00>08:00hrs. The feet and legs were looking just fine this morning. So good, I may advertise them as a pair of 1947 legs and feet for sale. Hehe!
So, I got the sphygmomanometerisationing tended to. Then, speedily got the body temperature taken before the sphygmomanometer turned itself off to catch both sets. When I entered the results into the NHS DVT site, it would not let me put in 39 for the DIA, just told me that DIA has to be a minimum of 40. Please check your figures! So, I put 40 in to get a graph up. How frustrating to know that I must be dead with a 39 Reading. Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. At least I know that’s two of us old uns that is still alive. The arrogant, noisy snotty Herbert from above started a tap-tapping, clunk concerto. So he’s not snuffed it yet, either. The view from the kitchenette window was so like an oil or water painting this morning. A Constable, mayhaps? Which reminds me, I’ve not seen a policeman on foot in Sherwood since January. No wonder crime has risen! The intercom flashed, and it was the William Morrison order arriving. One of the most disappointing deliveries, other than Iceland’s, of course, that I’ve ever had. Here’s the sad, hardly believable story. The men, through the goods into the two delivery boxes, naturally with cakes going in first, to be squashed by blah and water bottlers. Got the things sorted and put away, but t’was not easy.
They had some of the Jacob’s Leicester Cheese cheddar biscuits. I bought four packets, as they are my favourites. Taking them out of the box. Do you notice only three on the counter? Glad to report they have not substituted the Roast Vegetable Risotto, another of my personal favourites. That’s because one packet was torn open, and broken biscuits were all over the other food. I got them in a lidded tub and threw the other emancipated bits of bikkies into the waste bag. Then, disappointed, they had swapped the vegan mushroom pate with a caramelised pork & onion version. Huh!. Still, Richard can have that in the morning.
The fridge looked mighty low in stocks, even after I’d got the fresh foods packed away! The three packets of mini rolls were reduced to two; they were crushed but not as bad as the third packet, which had burst open, and I ended up washing off the sticky goo from other items delivered. By the time I’d sorted things out, I’d eaten a load of broken cheddar biscuits, a whole six mini rolls from the burst open and pre-mashed cakes. It all came back to why I stopped using Morrison direct and went to Amazon. But Morrison does not offer all their range when using Amazon, and when I read they had some Leicester flavoured cheddars, I just had to have some! Cragknangles! Sorry I bothered now!
MEAL-PREPPING: I spent the next few hours preparing Josie’s Chilli dinner. A bit of a mind-testing job… Why? I’ll tell yer!
①: The Iceland mushrooms that still had two days in-date showing; had shrivelled and gone grey. Comically, they had a Guarantee of Freshness sticker on the pack! So I had to use canned ones, which threw out my timing to get other things to be ready simultaneously.
②: Getting the potatoes done separately, as I usually do, so I can add some basil. I sliced them into Josie’s bite-size cubes and got a cut-down fingernail! ③: When I got the frozen leeks out of the freezer, attacked, I dropped the bag, and it burst on contact with the floor. I struggled to get things cleaned up, and Back-Pain-Brenda kicked in. ④: After much kerfuffling, sorting and swearing, I got the meal into one pan and on low heat to marinate. ⑤ By then, Guilt had set in when I realised all the cheddars and mini Swiss rolls I’d eaten while preparing Josie’s food.
Started blogging, at last. Not going too badly, and I went to check on Josie’s meal progress… I realised it was twenty-to-twelve already! I got the meal served up, cleaning up as I went along. As I was lifting the finished tray… an epiphany! I noticed that the kitchen clock was showing 10:50hrs. Confused now! I nipped into the front room to check the watch time, and it concurred with the kitchen clock. Had misread the wristwatch earlier. Oh, dear, what do I do now? I bravely took a gamble and delivered the meal to Josie’s door. Embarrassed beyond belief! I mumbled my pathetic Whoopsiedangleplop in getting the time wrong to Josie. I don’t think she was impressed. But she accepted the meal anyway. Like a guilty pet dog, I thanked her and scurried back into the flat. Red-faced and something of panic mode came over me.
Suddenly, I felt so tired, and a touch of Dizzy Dennis appeared. Waking up four hours later! Woken by the evening carer. I was not hungry, having digested the biscuits and cakes earlier, so I got myself down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner.
Arrived. Gave me the tablets one at a time but missed off the Codeine. Luckily I was more with after the kip, and I noticed. No nibbles or drinkies accepted in thanks, and he did not take the waste bags to the bin for me… and I forgot to ask her to. Tsk! She seemed a little withdrawn, just tired, methinks.
I got on with the updating of this blog. Well, this is going to take some time. Luckily the most activity was me, sleeping. Hahaha! Got the post done eventually.
Over an hour or so of slogging away on the computer, I took these three pictures of the sunsetting from the kitchenette window. I liked the last one.
The legs, feet, and ankles were slightly inflamed after days of calmness.
I think an ulcer is doing its best to erupt on the left ankle now. The right one looks and feels a bit raw, so I took off my trews. It’s hot tonight, and I’ve got the balcony doors wide open.
I had a bash at the Snippets blog; I might get it finished. Then again… (I didn’t, but I did it in the morning). Made a simple nosh. Curried chips (fries), tomatoes and fresh raw garden peas. I’d found eight escaped peas at the last count (Monday morning). The highlight was the one I discovered in the wee-wee bucket…Haha! Beats me: the bucket was about five feet from the recliner where I shelled and ate the peas and meal! The last photograph of the evening sky taken from the kitchenette window. Bootiful Nature!
With the nodding of this afternoon, sleep did not come very easily or quickly. It did eventually, belatedly putting the TV on, helped, I think. Soon as the adverts came on, I was off into the land of nod!
07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room. The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all. It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.
Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!
Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.
I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.
I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.
The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!
Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!
Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!
A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking! I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!
♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!
With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?
I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.
After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.
Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!
I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!
Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.
On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.
The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August. He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely. Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!
I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.
Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead. Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!
I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .
I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!
A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really relish watching them again.
I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.
Why did they bother sentencing him to death? Hang on, I thought San Quenton had closed down? I got this information from Bittanica as well. Maybe it’s another prison?
I stirred back into ersatz life. Not springing awake, the event was all rather laid back. Until I realised, I had no idea what the time of day it was. Indeed, what day had just dawned. It was still dark; I had no idea where I’d left the wristwatch and could not find the wind-up torch to look at the clock on the fireplace top. But, no worries, really. I was just slightly annoyed at myself and Dementia Doreen.
As I laid back, with the intention of nodding back off into dreamland, I was assured that there was no cause or reason to get up early, a wee-wee suddenly all but started of its own accord!
This also annoyed me somewhat, having to get up from the place of sleep. But I soon realised it had to be done quickly, and rather smartly for me I thought, was pulling down the PPs and utilising the nocturnal bucket within a minute! Which I knew at the time should not have been. I heard my EQ laughing! Now decision time; Do I go and get my hands washed, thus destroying any chance of getting some extra sleep in? Or, to snuggle down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holding recliner?
I opted to get my head down again. But… as I put the stick back in the slot at the side of the chair, I advanced a little too far with my right foot! And, by way of a change, I gave myself a foot stubbing instead of the usual toe!
I ended up sideways on, half-in, half out of the recliner. With something sticking under my bum? Banging my elbow on the way down. Guess what? I’d found the camera, torch and wristwatch all stuck down the side. twixt the cushion and the arm. Hahaha! Well, I thought it was funny, even at the time. I used the camera to take this shot of the foot, but it didn’t come out well – I think mother said that about me. Hehe! Smiling to myself, I started to disentangle my ungraceful, ungainly, ponderous body to a more sleepable position, got sim-settled, and thought I’d see if I could make out the time, using the torch… As I deemed it to be a quarter past five, I remembered the Ocado order was due from 06:00>07:00hrs! Globblegrumps!
I was soon back up on my painful foot, well, on them both. And started to make room in the fridge for the incoming food to be safely stored. I dropped the two packets of dried beans, and one of them burst open! Another mess to sort out! It’s been an odd morning so far! It got odder! I searched for a screw-lid container the right size for the rescued peas that hadn’t hit the floor to be stored in. And in light, saw that the time was only 04:15hrs? I reckon that Cataract Cathy had fooled into thinking it was five-fifteen when it would mayhaps have been something else?
Ah, of to the Throne. I felt sure that all the peas I had nibbled, along with the Dioctyl, would be enough to get things moving, as I thought they would. But No! Colin Constipation kept a firm grip on the product, and he was not letting anything get through. Painful, but no bleeding.
I surrendered and got on with Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by, ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, proferred these results.
The SYS was up again to 152, the DIA 69, and the Pulse down to 79 from yesterday’s high. The body temperature was fine, at 33.8°f.
I popped the resulting figures into the NHS Patient Monitor page. They out me a little higher into the red zone on their graph. I made up the graphic of me and added it to the jpeg for a bit of humour to share.
Liberty-Global, who owns Virgin Media. Went down for the third time today. This one was for a long time. When it came back on, an hour or two later, it was so slow! I got the graph of Virgin Media downtime in the UK. People writing in were not happy at all. Two areas had no service for a day! Most of them, like me, suffer outages every day. Mind you, BT were nearly as bad. Big Boys Bullying with ridiculous adverts about the ‘stretched’ claims of reliability and being the fastest service available.
What about people on these networks working from home on their computers? Do they get any compensation? BT offer a fantastic bargain… well, they did last year in their TV adverts. £30 a month back if we fail to give you (whatever the speed promised was). Mr Fries, the Liberty-Global Mogul, knows nothing about supplying an internet service, yet he’s bought into other internet companies throughout mainland Europe? Still, he gets his £23 a year salary plus bonuses and expenses. By his looks, you’d think he was a Godfather in the Mafia, wouldn’t you? I imagine he would be the perfect candidate for the Presidency race? He must have the ambidextrousness, chicanery and flimflam skills needed to flourish as the US president? Ah, no, I realise now, that would mean him taking a massive pay cut!
The Ocado delivery came just within the hour window. A decent chap; I think he came last time I used Ocado. He carried all the bags into the kitchenette for me as well. That was decent of him!. I made sure he took a can in thanks. I got the bottled water delivered this time, all of it. I’d anticipated many not being available; well, there was none available from Iceland or Sainsbury’s last week. I got the lot, as you can see here on the right, that’ll keep me going for a while. Hahaha! As I’d just finished stacking the bottles and packs, down the stack tumbled, landing on my recently damaged foot! Tsk!
But, I didn’t mind, what’s a bit more pain; I merely laughed it off!. No cursing at all… Ahem! The fridge was soon filled up again. A most comforting site, I must say. Still, come think of it, it s not as fill as it usually is, and the Carer treats will reduce the contents. Bless ’em, I do insist, you know. Har-har! Ah, I do feel a fool, more to go in in another bag. Bananas, garden peas, some part-baked baguettes, black tomatoes, lemon fools and the delicious but oh, so pricey Marks & Spencers Potato Rosti Cakes, I don’t want to think of what I paid for them, if you don’t mind. The M&S cakes were on offer, and still the most I have ever paid for eight little cakes. What am I doing? I’ll be broke if I go on like this. Body and financially at this rate, and I think I’ve got a Sainsbury order in for a few a day’s time. Oh, dearie me! I had to take out Richard’s Monday treats to make room for getting the other stuff in the fridge! I enjoy giving a bit in thanks to a good carer. I popped them in a carrier bag. Richard’s due any time now, so they should keep okay.
I got on the computer, to find that it was down again. Grobblewanks! I’m getting to dislike hocus-pocus Fries all the more. He’s taunting and haunting me! Arrived and had a chinwag after he’d sorted the medications and checked the medication drawer for stocks, bless him. He had to go a bit sooner than usual; he’s been given an extra call to so. He’s still not sleeping well. I suggested he try out the Hemp for him months ago and bought him a pot; I don’t like to see him all done in. But he thought they were drugs. Wished him a better kip, and he took the bags with him to the waste chute for me. Herbert gave me a drilling noises concert this time. How he does it so musically amazes me, he even ended with a thud or two to sign off. Hehe!
I think this was the fourth time that £23m a year’s Fries of Liberty-Global has gone down. Not for so long this time, though… but just give him time. You know, there’s a slight chance that he doesn’t even care. or know about his total failure in running an internet Suppliers company? Still, getting that sort of money, he must have some connection with the Mafia, Government or Putin?
I had two of the Royalty Priced lemon iced cakes and a mug of Thompson’s Punjana black tea. Note the tray that holds the cakes? It’s made if wood, I forget which one now, but they are feather light. Minutes after scoffing, in walked ‘I know best’, Esther. I was just trying to get the Liberty-Global Virgin Media back online at the time. She spoke a lot, mostly from the other room, so I’ve no idea what she was on about, but she didn’t tell me off when she came back in the room… which tells me that two scenarios may be in progress here. ① She was pleased with not getting any answers, so she may have put up the costs she charges, and I will never know. ② Or, she is planning a super-rollicking for me next week and is cunningly formulating now? She then decided I had not enough clothes dirtied to bother with her washing today. Which may result in an increased cost next week if the laundry bag is too big? Anyway, I played it safe cause I was a little nervous about not getting shouted at, which threw me a bit. I gave her the other two M&S lemon cakes. Scared? Me? You bet I am! Not half!
I spent so long on this blog, having to keep stopping regularly when Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media kept going down. The evening Carer may come at any time. So I had a nibble of some of the peas I put in the container after the Accifauxpa in the kitchen earlier. I had to move them away from the computer in the end, I was forever nibbling some, and with Peripheral Pete and Shaking Shoulder Shirley giving me some hassle, there are probably at least a dozen of the dried monster lurking somewhere in the room, ready for me to tread on them. Hehehe! Hello, a final (I hope) blast from Herbert. Sounded like the hammer and drill were being used in unison? Clever stuff, you know. Cheeky Charlie, the carer arrived; she’s not been for a while. I’ve missed her. She kindly got the gloves on and ointmentated the swollen toes, a stubbed part of the foot, and the ankle ulcer for me. That was lovely. ♥ The leg and foot felt much betterer afterwards.
Got some food cooking then. Potato Rosti in the oven. Took a photo of it, but it never made it to the SD card? Humph! Anyway, it was good. Rating: 8.2/10. Washed the pots and tittivated the kitchen; and got my head down to watch the England Women v (Nasty, fouling) Sweden Woman match on the box. I’ve not been as proud of an England team’s performance since 1966. Now, will it be France or Germany we face in the final?
After the match, I went to make a brew, and the night sky was begging to be photographed. So I did. Fantastic! (An almost water-colour-painted) hue. Argh! The left foot this time, though. The ointmentated right ankle was looking so calm. Grrreat! Got my head down, comforted by England’s phenomenal win over the Sweden bully-girls. But anxious, in the event that we face France in the final. I have an EQ-inspired thought that if it is France, it could mean defeat. I pray that Germany wins against France tomorrow night.
Due to so much time lost faffing about at the Sherwood Dentist, shopping and finding empty shelves, missing the bus back up the hill, and so many wee-wees, I must be in line to be Champion Wee-Weewer; this diary will only be a sketchy one. It’s a good job I spent all night getting the graphics done!
In between the repetitive wee-weeing.Tsk!
0515hrs: I’ve been up all night! Got the ablutionisationing done. Came out to get the kettle on, bleary-eyed! The odd wee-wee was taken.
I got out the Chinese sphygmomanometer and got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing. Hahaha!
The Blood pressure was; SYS 146, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 71bpm. Obviously, the Pulse had dropped a little from the last two days. The body temperature was not bad at all, at 33.5°f.
I checked the time available, and I decided to visit the (NHS) National Health Services DVT patients check site. It came out as a smidgeon higher in the red than yesterday’s test did. Made this graphicalisation on CorelDraw, then began to ready things for the hobble top Sherwood, remembering to use the homemade checklist.
Done.
Richard arrived. We managed a decent natter, and he checked the medication drawer. Selected a cold plonk from the fridge, and he departed a tired lad, taking the waste bags with him to the shute for me. I got the list of things needed for the hobble into Sherwood for the Dentist visit. Then prepped things, making sure things were in the jacket pockets or the Walker-Trolley. Walked to Sherwood. As you can see, I forgot to put the woolly hat in the basket, Humph!
. So, I set off out and took the lift down to the ground floor. Taking this selfie as I did so. Of course, I wanted to go down via the 12-floors of the concrete fire escape route, just to keep myself in shape, with a body like what mine is; one likes to look after it. Plus, with me being a young, athletic fitness fanatic… alright then! Don’t laugh! Haha! You understand. I made my way along the inner link corridor and made a fool of myself… it’s easily done for me, looking a plonker. Even easier nowadays since Vascular Doreen Dementia took up residence in my brain. I started to ask Deana and Julie (Wardens) in their office if they could ask Meridian’s Natalie if she’s heard anything from the Diabetes people about where the courses are and the transport from Nottingham Community place. It all came out wrong, and the girls were more confused than before I’d started talking!
I hobbled down Winchester Street, turned left down Mansfield Road and visited the Oran Food Stores Cash-Point. My brain froze as I got my card out – oddly enough, I remembered the number but was flummoxed as to which way round to put the card in the machine! I felt a right-chump going in to ask the lady in the shop! The look on her face said something like, “He shouldn’t be out on his own!” But she gave me a twinkling of a smile (derision, or sympathy-based, I’m not sure!) as I thanked her and returned to get some money from the ATM. Back in the shop, but they didn’t 3 of the 4 things that I’d hoped to get. As I mentioned the other day, It’s crumbling, the UK!
I limped back up the Mansfield Road incline over Winchester Street at the traffic lights junction, and I called into the Wilko store. They didn’t have a single one of the items on their sad, all-but-bare shelves! Humph! e. I needed some Wilko Fresher granules and washing-up liquid, Zoflora lemon, and their own brand 15-litre blue waste bags. I carried on, feeling a smidgeon pee’d off at my lack of success. The wind was cool and getting up a little, a summer portend of rain to come?
I called into two charity shops to see if any bobble or flat caps were on sale. No!
This surgery always gives bother of some sort or another, a few of them this time. Getting up the three chunky, concrete steps with the walker was not going well! I was rescued and helped a chap just arriving. A lady phoned me yesterday and asked that I get to the surgery early. Well, I had done 20 minutes despite the fortress defences having to be fought through. The receptionist was hard to hear, and ten minutes or so late, I was commanded to take a seat; someone will fetch you! “Thank you!”
I sat down and had the battle to see the crossword clues as the lighting was terrible and the cataract. They had left a door open in the waiting room, which usually would not bother one… but I had a further 50 minutes before I was seen by a dentist… I’ll explain.
A lady came to me and asked if I could manage to get up the two flights of stairs to my dentist? As calmly as possible, I replied: “Each time I come, this happens, no I can’t get up the stairs, as I told staff last time, and the previous five times, and still you book me in with the top-floor wallah!” Lady (Doing her best), “It will be a while before we can re-sort a ground floor surgery for you” – Me: “Six months ago, I was told that I’d automatically be on the ground floor from now on, but no!” “We’ll sort it out…” “Oh, good, thanks!” Back to struggling with the cool breeze and the crossword book.
Forty minutes later, I was led, well, more marched, to the far front surgery. The whole examination couldn’t have lasted longer than five or six minutes! I again asked if it was possible to have all the teeth out? Reply? “I don’t think so! I mentioned the loose tooth at the front next to where its former neighbour fell out seven months ago. Reply? “Do you want me to pull it?” Me: “Well, now you, mention it…” Interrupted: “No, it should last until the next visit”.
Aghast at how I’d been treated, I asked her for a prescription for some more of the Duraphat toothpaste. She gave me a prescription that had to be stamped to legalise it at the reception when you pay. So I went to pay up. Now you can add another five minutes or more while the three receptionists were all on the phone, no clients anywhere? But I needed the Duraphat, so I stood there in silence. Eventually, one of the receptionists signalled with a backward flipped head-nod for me to pay my dues and stamped the prescription for me. I needed help again, this time in getting me and the trolley down the steps on the way out. It’s hard to believe all that just happened, but it did.
Up to the top of the hill, to the Lloyds Chemists, to get the Duraphat. I bought some Germolene, being as the chemist had some in stock! I bought the last two tubes. But nothing is too good for Little Inches Fungal Lesion! Hehehe! Paid up, out and back down to the bus stop. A long time since I used this, and I tried to read the timetable for the 40 bus – mission impossible! A lady arrived, who I thought I’d seen at the flats, and we got into a good nattering session. Great sense of humour; I must try to see her again! The bus arrived, and we were soon back up at the flats. The next ten minutes proved how much I’d been missing getting out. As I met Margaret, who I’ve not seen for months now. We had a gossip. Then another bus came in, and Chrissie got off, Margaret got on the bus, and we walked through the inner route through Winchester and Winwood Courts back to our Woodthorpe Court.
Two people chatted as they passed Chrissie and me by. Then Natalie from Meridian stopped to tell me she was sorting out a lift for the Diabetes course. No details yet. Then I met Cheeky Charley, the carer, and Chrissie and I got the lift up to our flats.
A bit embarrassing:, with the excitement of seeing people, I got confused as to which floor we were on and when the doors opened, I stood there waiting for Chrissie to get out of the cage… it was my floor – Oh, I did feel a fool! Bade farewell to Chrissie. ♥ And red-facedly, I made haste to my apartment. No sooner had I got the trolley into the flat than the need for a wee-wee had me scrambling into the wet room. The timing and mot getting caught out while I was in Sherwood, Truly Amazing! Of course, I was wise not to go into Smug-Status because the AMS must have lasted for a good five or six minutes! . I got the things put away. I’m looking forward to the vegan franks again; I’ve had some earlier in the year, and they were good. If I’ve got any chips in the freezer, I may have them with the sausages – eventually.
I got on with the blogging at long last. But not before I took these shots as the sky suddenly brightened up. There’s something about the beautiful to me, clouds.
Of course, I do enjoy my pareidolia. I saw a face mask and eyes in these photographs, traces of a face as well. Do you see them? On with the blogging. I really need some sleep, but the blog must go on! Hehehe!
♫Oh, Susana♫ came from the door chime, and I got up to answer it; it was dear Josie bringing back her weekend meal tray and pots. She volunteered how much she liked them this week. Which was nice to hear. The right foot was hurting somewhat when I took the things off of Josie, so I took a look at the plates and ankle. Sure enough, the right leg and foot looked like they were swelling up again? Ah, that might be due to the little hobble I took earlier? See how quick I was there? I can be like lightning at times! Hahaha! The Evening Carer could be here at any time from now. I’ll make a start on the day’s ode, I think. Hello, the rains starting! By the time I’d got the camera out to take a snap of it, it had stopped. Ah, well, every little bit helps!
I was just about to mention that the wee-weeing had stopped. But no, more annoying, after-dribbling wee-wees are back again. I’ve changed my mind and am going to get something to eat instead.
The doggie hot dog sausages I’d cooked had a tough plastic skin on them that I’d not noticed before. I had to skin them before eating. They looked terribly pale then, and the smooth texture, that was not appealing whatsoever to look at. But my gum, they tasted delicious! The sliced potatoes and tomatoes were disappointing. The part-baked bread was gorgeous! And the No-Bull vegan ice cream to follow, as you know by now, I loved! The overall Taste Rating was 8.2/10. I washed the pots and got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner. Put the TV on, and I promptly drifted off into the land of Nod. For half an hour or so…
I was rudely awakened by the tune of ♫ Oh, Susan ♫, and Carer Sarah (I might have the wrong name there, sorry if so) came in. Soon got the medications sorted for me. Selected a cold can of G&T for her choice of treats from the fridge, picked up the waste bag, and off she went. Thank you!
Could I get back to sleep again? Well, yes, I did this time! I think it was sheer exhaustion, the upsetting farce, and the hobble the dentist helped. I slept right through until about 01:00hrs, no jumping awakes, no wee-wees needed. Grrreat! In fact, as I made my way to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I sensed the need for the Porcelain Throne. . It turned out the Constipation Conrad had taken over the innards functions, and despite my best efforts to move things, nothing evacuated from the rear end. However, an FPBWW (Forceful-Painful-Blasting) marathon of a wee-wee flowed out as if from a hose pipe! I washed the dandies and things and returned to my chair, hoping to get some sleep again.
Amazingly, I soon got to kip and was dreaming of being on a big wheel, with an old girlfriend… and jumped awake so violently, with wind escaping flutteringly, from my rear end. Dang, Dang…Dang Dang! The race was on to get back to the Throne! Tearing free of the pyjama bottoms, I plonked my elephantine-bellied body down on the seat… the biggest, longest, and it is possible, making a raspberry-sounding-like release that shook the foundations of my insides! Then, this time, a wee-wee session arrived; in the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. Each I felt it was coming to an end, the trickle refreshed! Well, if nothing else, I was getting a variety of WC and Throne visits. Hehehe!
I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late. It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?
I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly. The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid. But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).
All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit. From the kitchenette window, I took a photo of the facing car park of Chestnut Way, an interesting bit of parking there,
Then, from the balcony, a snap of the Tree Copse, which only set me feeling sorry for myself now that I can’t go for my daily ramble through it.
Back into the cookhouse and started to p[rep the veg for Josie’s meal. I took another shot from close to the window to try and catch a decent image of the rain hitting the glass.My eyesight seemed a smidgeon worse this Sunday. To all intents and purposes, the spots were running down the glass; when I took off my spectacles, they were not and just seemed stuck like glue in the positions they were already? I went through my collection of old glasses; to see which helped better… or rather hindered my sight the least. I found that the oldest reader pair and ricketiest were for computing work. Normal or long distance, none of them helped. I hope they summon me soon for the cataract to be done.
Got the medical checks sorted out next.
SIA 134, DIA 79 and the pulse oas a reasonable 85bpm.
The body temperature was 33.3°f, with a target of 35°f, it was well acceptable to me.
Not the lowest SIA, but the combination of resusults, when put in the NHS Work it out site, showed me still in the orange Pre-High stage, and yesterday and this morning are the only times it’s been so low. Proof that mt Doctor is winning the battle to get my BP down. Thank you, Doctor Vindla. It only took you six years from the heart op to get it right… well, nearly right. (Ahem!)
Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha!
I spent a few hours getting the blog prepped, and I made some quote tabs to use on CorelDraw. When I nipped to the fridge to see what was available to quench my sudden hunger and thirst… there was nothing! How had I let myself run so low? I blame only one person and one thing, the person, is undoubtedly me, is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.
I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. It was looking okay, and after a spoonful found its way to my lips, I declared it as being Josie-ably tasty! I nipped back to the computer to get some prep work done on that. and plan to return to the cooking to stir things a bit regularly. But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! But it got worse! After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course.
As she opened the door and said straight away: “There’s more than ever this time, Gerry! It dawned on why I’d made so much. I was going to have the Chilli as well, but somehow I forgot and gave it all to Josie. Ah, well, it’ll last her for three meals now. Hahaha! Josie seemed pleased enough with it. I wished the gal good eating, came back into the flat and promptly cursed my stupidity! I did some work on this blog, and then I had a look in the freezer. Aha, fish and chips? That’s what I’ll have then. Got it sorted, and in the oven cooking, the writing was too small to read. so I guessed at the time needed. I assumed it would be around 40 minutes. Then a brainstorm forced me to mop the kitchen…
Oh, dearie me…
Got back to check on the food, and it was looking good. Notice, I did not say it tasted good… It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!
I put the pots in the sink to soak, returned to the chair, and got down to get some much-needed sleep – so I put the TV on; that usually helps me nod off. And did this time for once. But I was in desperate need of some. Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe! Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!
I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue. Seeing this road reminded me of an article I’d read on the YourArea website about the Grove. So I looked on the map to get its name for us. As you see, it was Applewood Grove. No crime reported in 2021? Even we at Winwood Court Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’
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It’s true, Today is Tomorrow, or say… Alternatively, Tomorrow could be, Today, Neither could be both, whichever way, Unless you just wait until the following day… I suppose you think I’m mad, straightaway?
At times my mind tends to drift far away, Or I’ll not know if it’s Monday or Tuesday… This often happens on Friday, actually… But the brain is working fairly well, unusually, I’ll try not to topically lose it or fade away… For I have thoughts to share today… That may seem to you partly disillusionary, But it may clarify our vocabulary and ancestry!
I believe that time has been too discretionary, “Standard time” in effect for a shrinking portion yearly,
Daylight saving time, controlling the clock monthly, Lawmakers have extended summertime schedule, surely… Clock changes vary, with locations yearly… Consequently, the time differences will have to vary… Between regions, to understand it can send you silly!
Clocks, time changes, and days are not like a barometer… Mankind toys with time, but are they right or full of blatter? The world will soon be ending, so does it matter? There will be no humans to worry about hereinafter… No money to steal, no murderers, no laughter, It’ll no longer be a disgrace to be a grammaticaster!
We have changed so much, without knowing… Or caring for any costs in life and consequences, Again, the ‘Lord’ is not revealing… Although his Fathers and Priests are appealing… The well-off are revelling… The poor are trembling and dying, Politicians, Bankers constantly fiddling and lying! Scum balls murdering, mugging and burgling…
Firebombing, divorcing, schemozzling, little elutriating!
So time means… almost nothing,
Earth’s final moments are here, thanks to the Kremlin,
And people throwing recyclables in the dustbin…
We’re killing more people now than Nazi Berlin,
You’ll have paid for your pension and coffin…
But fret not; hope lies with a clever boffin!
Working on a time machine, so we can go back in time…
Preferably to a time before cybercrime,
Where workers were paid overtime!
Murderers were duly hung and did no more crime!
When folks knocked on doors and did not press a battery-powered chime!
Thus saving future generations would that be benign?
Note that this option would not be sublime…
For two reasons that come to mind!.
Who do you think would get to travel back in time?
Only the rich, politicians, and or the bosses of crime!
Earth of the future may soon design…
Another machine to travel through time…
They may go back to your current placing?
Having loaded nuclear weapons before leaving…
We’ll soon have time-machines to and fro racing…
And in the turmoil of war, wanting to be leaving…
Will be earlier time travellers, needing bullet-proofing…
God may send his lad down for some investigating…
I can hear him now “What the hell have you been doing?”
If you can get the chance, you’ll travel back to now…
Chances are, you can start again. but I’m not sure how,
Cause the time will have changed somehow?
Life may have restarted: a few cavemen on earth now?
Show them a torch, and they’ll kowtow,
Get to know them, have a powwow…
Soon, of profits, you’ll begin to think!
And suddenly put up with the cavemen’s stink,
Invent money, sell them coats, strip a mink,
Flog them an insurance policy and glasses if they wink,
Get them working cheaply, so they don’t get skint,
Build an army, police force, and a clink!
Mind you, I have to say…
More time travellers could arrive any day…
You must stop them, find a way…
If you can’t, alackaday… Today can be Tomorrow or Tomorrow Today!
The moon landing was expensive in terms of costs and men dying…
But had to be done cause of Uri Gagarin…
Space race? The Russians were now leading,
First to the moon, the USA not conceding…
Conspiracists said the films were misleading,
Shadows in the wrong place, the flag was waving…
The trip took 109 hours, 42 minutes, launch to landing,
About the time it took me to get to see Dr Sanding…
Then she wasn’t there, more complex than a moon landing!. ———————————–
Inchcocks Diary
Approx 05:30 hours, I stirred back into life and promptly tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not working recliner. There I was, on my bum, with one leg on the swivel chair and the other bent awkwardly but somehow under the chair. And in a bit of a predicament! I stunned myself for a smidgeon. (Obvious to me that I’d been doing some tossing and turning and edged towards the front of the chair? Can’t recall any dreaming.) I could sense the wet warm flow of blood in the Protection pants, which would be either Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, whichever or both, the need to get up and investigate, clean and medicate things was causing a bit of a panic in me. (I panic so well!) There was an urgency to my need to somehow get back up and onto my feet… In my sad, messy manoeuvring painfully, first back on the chair, then onto my feet, I stubbed my same, the same one twice, which with the swollen feet and toes was worse than usual. I slipped my arm off the side of the recliner, getting up. Hitting my chin on the corner arm. No time to mess about, though, and I got Metal Micky, and we hobbled to the wet room. Bit of good fortune here. It was only Harold’s Haemorrhoids that were bleeding. Thus it was far less painful to medicate than the lesion would have been. The toes and chin were enough to keep my attention. I did notice the vast improvement in the ankle ulcer, though, compared to Tuesday evening’s photo, this morning was much calmer and swollen looking. It must have been around an hour after waking that I started to think the day’s needs through.Food order to do, ask Meridian if they have sorted anything out with the Diabetes session. Get Richards’s treats sorted out. Got to… No, I’d better have a wee-wee first. And what a leak that was! Galore, and one of the longest wee-wees that I’ve ever taken! And they kept coming throughout the day!
The Blood Pressure sphygmomanometerisationing was yet another great set of results: SYS 44, DIA 62 and the Pulse, a smidgeon up, at 91 bpm! The body temperature had risen to an almost perfect figure, at 35.1°f. Interruption: The landline burst forth; it was a very hard-to-hear and understand lady (I think?), from the dentist’s surgery, on Mansfield Road. Reminding me of my appointment next. Plenty of time for me to forget it, though. I input the BP numbers into the NHS Work-it-out site. (Left graphic wot I sun) It came out the same as yesterday! Don’t know why I made a sad face on it? I got the computer on to finalise yesterday’s blog and found the SD car was reading again? I swiftly got the few, well, three photos from yesterday that I could not get on done. Then titivated the blog and felt a smidge smug, but what with my luck in waking up and thudding to the floor, I thought it best not to get too confident.
The lad was worn out, and I was his last call. Richard arrived, and I thanked him for getting me some help yesterday, and I flashed him my much better-looking ankles… Hehehe! He warned me that thunderstorms were forecast for this afternoon. I thought it was a lot cooler today. We had a little natter, too and froing, and a laugh or two. This is good then; when he’s not too tired, he can spend a little longer with me, chinwagging. Gave him some treats in thanks, and off he trotted, in much need of his bed.
I am walking much better this morning after the initial waking-up boo-boo! Not having to walk on the heels today shows how the swelling has gone down in the legs and feet.
Although the toes still look like baby ones. Hehe! And, the bruise under the chin has not given me any bother at all! Even Arthur Itis in the knees has calmed done.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out from the door chime. It was neighbour Josie, returning Sunday’s crumb-covered tray and dishes from her meal. I’m not sure which of us is the worst, Hahaha! The poor gal didn’t look too well. I pointed the walking stick at my feet and said they were much better. Josie replied, “Yes, very good; I’ll try to…” Smiled and wandered back into her flat. I’m not sure who is the worst with Dementia and our lousy hearing. Hahaha! I tried to work out what she thought I had said but without success. Bless her ♥
Noise merchant Herbert from the flat above kicked off with his tap-tapping, the odd thud, and scuffing noises thrown in. He kept it u[ for hours on and off. He must have a special job lined up? Hello, I think he just dropped a box of tools. Ah, the drilling and grating noises have started now; he must be getting on with it, bless him. Back to the tap-tapping again…
I finally got the blog finished and posted off to WordPress. Went on the comments page. I had tons come in. But got them both answered. Then nipped on the WP Reader. Now it is time to get the ablutionalisationing tended to; and check Harolds Haemorrhoids, amongst other ailments. Hehehe! Back soon. Well, I hope to be back shortly. I’m back. And what a good session that was! Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving on the chin where I ‘Chin-Butted’ the arm of the chair first thing this morning getting back up from the floor after my tumble out of the chair. No toe-stubbing, no Dizzies, I walked into nothing either. I have a mini involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance while I was shaving, hence, the little nick. Had a wee-wee (it must have been number twelve of the day at least) and remembered what Carer Richard said when he was checking the use-by dates for me; “I’ve never seen yer with so little in yer fridge!”. So, I investigated and made an order for Iceland. They have no bottled water in stock either. So I ordered some low-cal lemonade. I must keep up with the drinking in this hot weather while the legs and feet retain so much fluid. Coming in the morning twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs. As I started prepping the meal, I remembered the last Iceland delivery I’d had last week. The squashed bananas, the leaking bottle of liquid soap, short-dated yoghourt… and of course, there not having any of my beloved No Bull burgers or bread I ordered in stock. And the crap substitutions… I may have made a mistake here…
Had a tin of curried beans that I seasoned with the usual squid vinegar, malt vinegar and Vegan BBQ sauce. Put a part-baked loaf in the oven halfway through cooking. The beans and bread were excellent, but the veggie burgers were terrible; the crispy crumbs were not crisp. How clearly now, after making the order, one remembers one’s self-promise never to trust or use Iceland again! Being low on choices with the low stocks in the fridge, I decided to use up the crap and substituted it with Iceland bean burgers in crispy breadcrumbs. As instructed, I got my feet up on a chair and sat watching TV. I soon nodded off, but could I stay asleep? Not a chance!
When I gave up on sleep, I took a photograph of the ankle ulcer and feet, and they looked so much improved from how Tuesdays were. The toes remain a bit pudgy. The retained fluid, giving me rock-hard legs, was also reduced. . The ♫Oh, Susana♫ tune chimed out, and in walked Valerie. She was a little happier tonight. Got the medications sorted, and I gave her a can of cold orange Fanta from the fridge; she liked that. Val took the waste bags with her on her way out.
I settled down to watch the England Ladies Game v Spain. I’ve never been more proud of an England team since 1966! I wish could have been France we beat, though. That would have been the icing on the cake. We will have to play against Sweden or Belgium, if we get through, France will have to be conquered!
ODE TO SELF-IRRISION & DERISION
I no longer have inspiration and very little gumption,
Life for me is sinking into declension…
Dementia means I’ve little recent memory retention,
Yet sometimes recall things, to my stupefaction…
I’m waiting on the EENT to have an operation,
For my cataracts, called Phacoemulsification,
I persistently wee-wee; and have hypertension.
I’m almost deaf, yet have tintinnabulation?
Arthur Itis, Ankle ulcer, and fluid-filled legs, with many a contusion,
Peripheral Neuropathy, a mechanical ticker, destitution…
I think St Peter should give me restitution!
Should I have been born? Am I a substitution?
Was I meant to be a boy or girl? That’s the question…
Parents named Inchcock, during gestation…
With a man-tool the same size, did my prospect worsen?
Unfortunately, I can’t make past miseries unhappen.
At birth, Mother said, ‘I don’t want it; I was crestfallen…
No wonder, as a youngster, I was so sullen!
Slowly my resistance began to weaken…
I lived on lard sarnies and Iprobrufen…
I asked every adult I met for an adoption,
I ran away from home, I had no option…
I went for shelter from Auntie Gretchen,
She just threw me out of the kitchen!
The next day, I hobbled back home, downfallen…
I got in and spoke, hoping they would listen.
No one knew I’d gone; my life never started to glisten?
My developing years were misery and rotten…
Then Mother was freed from jail; she’d been forgotten…
Laughing and being happy was then verboten…
I left school at 14 and got a job baling cotton!.
Depressed, I considered becoming an anthropophaginian,
There was a week when my life seemed ambrosian!
Matilda was her name, an arithmetician,
Randy? No need to ask her for her permission!.
But she turned out to be a Pinoccohian,
Not only that but an absinthian,
I returned to Nottingham, working as a beautician.
———————————–
Being uneducated, I turned to intuitioning… To replace my lack of logic and reasoning, Judgements were instantaneous, with no conscious thinking! No abductiveness, abstracting or even reasoning… But I had a flair somehow for conceptual thinking?
I was prepared to tackle problems, if nonintimidating, Usually, I’d end up morbidly confused and panicking, Thought Storms, I found myself cathecting… Often ending with my fearing and self-blaming, Doreen Dementure started visiting; she’s beyond taming!
Finding you’ve missed or got something wrong; is excruciating! Yet still, when I stray of a topic to start witwantoning… Searching, no doubt, for comforting, consoling… To find someone who can help, and be approbating… A Doctor mayhaps, who is not so abrogating… But I’m still here alone… and waiting!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
MONDAY DIARY
Due to my working well into the morning on yesterday’s blog, I didn’t wake up until 07:15hrs. A good job; the Carer didn’t come early cause I’d left the door locked. So, although still in a haze, I had to force my way free of the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, and get a wash and shave, then dressed. I remembered to unlock the door first.
Despite my rushing, I remembered that I had the J Sainsbury order arriving twixt 8> and 9:00hrs. I didn’t get a single cut shaving and no teeth bleeding (but that was because I forgot to clean the teeth, Hahaha!) I did manage a stubbed toe and a few dropsies.
I got the blood pressures etc., done quickly as I could. Great figures returned, bearing in mind I was hastily hobbling around after getting up so late, trying to get the Health Checks done before the Carer or Delivery arrived. My body temperature was well down, surprising as I was almost sweating with all the rushing about what I was doing? Hey-Ho!
Well gone 08:00hrs and Carer Richard arrived. He was obviously not going to be able to have a chinwag and check the medications in the drawer as he usually does on a Monday because the poor lad had got three extra calls given him for this morning! I slipped him a bottle and a nibble plonk & chocolates in a bag. I make up a bottle of spring water and ass some orange cordial to it and bang it in the fridge to cool for him each day if he comes; nice chap, but under pressure this morning. He still oversaw me as I took the medications; some didn’t even do that. Wishing him good luck, he took the waste bag on his way out. Bless his cotton socks.
At last, I got the kettle on and took some photographs from the balcony.
In the first photo, RVM (Red-Van-Man) in his favourite No Parking, yellow hatched markings. Raining a fair bit!
I noticed some activity, as a silver car arrived and went to park in between the grey and blue vehicles on Chestnut Ways car park. Then backed out again and went down to the end car park (RDM’s area).
And parked opposite RVM, a lot nearer to the entrance. I spotted the deluge of muddy rainwater in the car park as it hurled down the hill in Woodthorpe Grange Park. Can’t blame them as the rain seemed to be coming heavier now.
I went to wash the tea mug as I took this shot from the kitchenette window. Cunningly knocking over the kitchen tools stand as I did so! Another mess to sort out! I think it’s the first time I’ve handled the baster and quick as I picked them up with the picker-upperer since I bought the set. Hehehe! That was donkey’s years ago.
The intercom flashed, and I admitted the J Sainsbury delivery lad. Who threw the food into the boxes, with the bunch of roses going in at the bottom of the box! (I found out later). Tsk!I rescued the flowers and put them in the trolley walker basket to keep them from harm. Can you see the expression on the orange carrier bag handles? ‘The Scream?’ Hahaha!
I got the bows and bags emptied and sorted into various places. Starting with the fridge and freezer products. I’d made a cock-up with the battered Fish & Chips; I thought I’d just ordered chips? I’d also forgotten that I’d got the vegetarian ice cream ordered from JS and have ordered more now from Iceland for tomorrow; what a plonker! Humph! Glad to see they had some more of the Squid Sauce, which is actually liquid salt made from anchovies, and most tasty too! I’ll try to eat stuff from the freezer today to make room for new ones.
I’d got two boxes of four lemon curd bakes, one for Richard. The freshly podded garden peas had gone up in price by a whopping 30%. Boo! And no country of origin on the packet! So, I do not know what to expect tastewise. The Nicaraguan ones can be bitter and unpleasant. Like the last ones bought, they should be sweeter if they are from Peru. As were the Chilean ones last week.
Another of the instant, phooey, watery evacuations. I tried to take a photo of the much improved looking ankles and plates of meat… but as you can see by the image on the right, it was not a good one. That was due to Peripheral Pete and his neurotransmitter failure, creating another intentional leg flailing dance routine. Why, you ask? I hope… I actually took several photographs, but this one was the only one worth using.
What’s more, this dance went on for a long time, which is rare and worrying. I got a bruise or two hitting the porcelain and cabinets with the leg. I’ll have an investigation later to see what shape it’s left the poor old leg is in. I must have put them in the wrong setting. Maybe turned the selector too far of not enough?
Hehe! I got a bag on the trolley walker with the roses in, with some drinkies and phoned Deana to tell her they had arrived as treats in thanks. She said she’ll call later, but things can get hectic in a flash for the wardens, all of us old farts that need to keep an eye on.
I got the three small waste bags made up from the delivery rubbish, grabbed metal Micky and went to the door to go to the chute. Drilling noises permeated through the flat. I assumed the workmen were back doing the electrical repairs or updates in the lift lobby. So, I took the Canon camera with me. I could see the wiring hanging down from the ceiling tiles, and the fire door was wedged open; and made my way out of the flat lobby into the lift lobby. I greeted the workmen with a cheery “Morning, lads!” I think I might have just gone into invisible mode at that moment.
I hobbled around the tools, tiles and wires on the lobby floor, and I got to the waste chute room. Dropped the bags down the chute and was back out in no time. All without any trapped or knocked fingers, leg-dances, shakes or walking into anything.
Back in the lift lobby, all the rubbish on the floor had quickly been removed, and there were no signs of untalkative gentlemen anywhere.
Back in the flat, I decided to have an early meal. My aboulomania and pathological indecisiveness reigned. Of course, it took me ages dithering about what to have. Eventually, despite Dementia Doreen, I remembered I wanted to use up some frozen foods today to make room for the superb-tasting NoBull ice cream I’ve ordered from Iceland for tomorrow’s delivery.
I oven cooked a massive amount of chips (fries), to clear a bit of room in the freezer, as you can see. Hehe! I ate far too much. All my good work on the dieting over the last week meant nothing, as I feasted, licking my lips and feeling very guilty!
Taste-Report: The imitation fish sticks were tasty. The imitation smoked kippers in a vegetable sauce were super! The chips and tomatoes were excellent! The unknown origin shelled peas were disappointing. So, the plate of food gets an 8.2/10 Flavour-Rating!
The J Sainsbury cheese twist, and the sourdough bread, were both dry, bland and hard. So neither got eaten entirely. Eurgh! Shame! A score of 3/10 for them. I just thought I’d remind you of the new Sainsbury’s slogan they have adopted. Grangleturds!
Got the washing up done, and a Meridian supervisor came to do a Customer Satisfaction review. I had to be honest with her. Treated her to a choice of nibbles afterwards, though. Dean arrived at almost the same time to collect her treats. I think it’s three or four weeks now before her wedding. She said she particularly liked yellow roses. She took the bag of goodies, and I even remembered to add the strawberries from the fridge.
2: The moment the Meridian gal left… l had to make a swift as was possible hobble to the wet room! It was a close call again! No pushing required, down… splash-splurt; all done in seconds! Cleaned up and washed, then took another Dioctyl poo-softener… I’ll start taking them one a day henceforth until they run out, or Trotsky Terrence loses his winning streak over Constipation Konrad! I must remember to ask Carer Richard to read the use-by date on the pot in the morning. I think cataract Kathleen is making my sight a little worse each day.
I got the pot of vegetarian ice cream that I got from JS, and I had a few big spoonfuls. Compared to the No-Moo one from Iceland, it was whiter but too sweet (I’ll still eat it, though, Hehe!) Costlier too! The No-Moo one was yellower, not so well packed and tasted less sugary, which suited me more than the JS one. Especially as these ones coming tomorrow were on offer. From £2.50 down to £1.50! Definitely, a case of and a tasty treat discovered!
I nodded off, emptied bowl on my belly, in the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, gungy beige coloured, rickety, c1968 recliner. It was bliss while it lasted, but it only lasted for ten minutes, as the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune burst forth from the door chime.
It was Sarah… or Samantha maybe? She got the medications sorted, but did not check as I took them for any dropped or regurgitated ones. So much for my mentioning this earlier. But she’s a good gal. No treats were accepted this time. Bless her!
I made up some Spring Water bottles, one with lime, one orange and the small one with lemon & lime. I do live well!
At 20:25hrs, I got restarted the WP and got back on Monday’s blog updating. Getting the latest photos uploaded first. So many were not useable, I had no idea I was shaking so much, and somehow a lot of them were lost. A
I got as far as here, and I went on the WordPress Comments. That took longer than I thought it would, nearly midnight now and the eyes are making things hard with the keyboard and screen.
I’m searching to find actuality… But combining this with reality… It is not easy or of practicability, Doreen Dementia lurks sinisterly… Stopping the brain working correctly… Wrong thoughts and memories run freely… Confusion is rampant, daily… hourly!
But, no point in acting sourly… It’ll only make me act more dourly, I must avoid existing dismally… I used to act so enthusiastically?
I still can, but guilt comes dreadfully… Forcing thoughts unsympathetically… This is not me, the old me anyway… I’ve never been so irascible and broody, I wish these fears would just go away…
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Sunday 5th June 2022
04:35hrs: I woke; I had a feel around for aches and pains and stretched some limbs, but could not get rid of a feeling that something was wrong? Had I forgotten something? It may have been there being no moist area in the crevices? This means no bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inches Fungal Lesion… Good news, though!
I forced my elephantine sized stomached body up onto my feet. Caught my balance easy enough, grabbed metal Micky and hobbled to the wet room in reply to urgent messages from the intestines for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.
Trotsky Terence kicked off with a splattering noise when my bottom hit the plastic seat; in seconds, all done! Stinky, almost liquid and for the first time ever – the evacuated product lay the steaming… in three distinctly different shades of brown? Very pale, a khaki and almost black sections floated around together? Another mammoth job of cleaning up required, which, while being done, was accompanied by some threatening gurglings and stabbing pains from the innards! Mmm?
I finished the cleaning and sanitising, made up a waste bag, and started prepping to do Josie’s mead. I sliced some mushrooms, chestnuts, onions, and then tomatoes. I got the seasoning and puree added in.
I took shots of the morning view while it was still dark.
The houses in Sherwood, and then one of the car parks on Chestnut Way, opposite my treasured Woodthorpe Court block of flats, from the kitchenette window.
The colours of the vehicles were limited. Grey or silver, black or white, and a red one.
I got on with doing the Ode and updating the Saturday blog.
2: Same again, almost exactly, but less content. More cleaning up is to be done. Tsk! Trotsky is enjoying himself today?
The Carer arrived, a little tense, I thought (Not uptight or anything, just tired, bless her). So I got my charms working to cheer her up as best I could. She came out a little, which I was pleased with. Kiyer, her name, I think. Nibbles were supplied in thanks, and she took the waste bag with her to the chute.
Made a start on today’s template, then finished Saturday’s book and sent it to WordPress. Emailed the link.
At this stage, it dawned on what the odd feeling was when I woke up. I didn’t need a weewee! That was about 4½ hours ago, and I still haven’t needed one?
The sphygmomanometer was utilised to get the Blood Pressure readings. Another set of reasonable returns for today, as it has been for three days on the trot now! SYS 148. DIA 70 and the Pulse had gone up smidgeon to 91bpm.
My Chinese (Hong Kong) made Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, showed an increase to 34.6°c. I think that’s a good sign. Much better than of late…
Off to check on Josie’s chilli meal. All looked and tasted good when I had a spoonful.
Aha! A weewee is needed at last. But it’s a false alarm; nothing came out at all?
Got some blog creating started at last on this one. Then had to stop to concentrate on getting Josie’s meal sorted out. Back in a bit…
Made the chill-con-carne into two meals, one in a tub for Josie to have later on or tomorrow and the porcelain bowl for today. Added a few treats to the tray and took it dead on time as arranged to Josie’s door.
I pressed her bell but got no answer. Oh, dear, have I got it wrong again? Perhaps she’s told me she’s going out today and not wanting a meal? Or is she poorly inside the apartment? A bit of panic overcame me! I went back into the flat to ponder what to do…
I almost dropped the food tray; my mind was in a bit of a pickle. Thank heavens I didn’t, though. As I put the tray down inside the door and turned to close it, I espied Josie’s door opening…
I was well pleased to see she was alright when I asked her, she said, ‘I was on the phone with my sister’. If only the poor gal could remember that I always deliver her meal at 12:00hrs on a Sunday, or maybe even ask her Sister to ring at a different time? Or tell me she wants the meal at another time in future? I went through a few minutes of anguish, not knowing if she was alright or not and what could I do about it? Still, she couldn’t help it, and she was okay. So nevermind.
I got my nosh done and served it on the tray. BBQ rice and two veggie sausages, with a banana to follow. Nice enough. Taste rating 7.2/10
After eating the rice and bangers, I put on a Dr Who DVD, and I promptly nodded off. Of course, within minutes, I jumped back into life, as is usual for me nowadays. And I felt like I could manage something else to eat. I took the ray knife and porcelain bowl into the kitchen and soaked them in the washing up bowl. At first, I thought, aha, I’ll have some cornflakes, checked to see if there was enough milk to use, and remembered about the NoBull ice cream in the freezer. I opted to have that instead. I polished it all off, and boy, it was so tasty too! Took the tray back to the sink and washed it with the other stuff in the bowl.
Carer Kiya arrived and got me sorted out, taking the waste bag with her.
Now a new thought arrived. I’ll have to find out where I bought the vegetarian ice cream and get some more ordered; it was that good! I checked on the J Sainsbury order coming tomorrow but could not find any vegetarian ice cream at all. So, I had a look at the Iceland site. Ah, there it was, and on offer as well! I had to spend a minimum of £40, but that’s no problem for a shopaholic like me. Hehehe! Veggie burgers, treats for the carers, cheese & onion pasties, strawberries, tomatoes, mushrooms, butter, BO spray, spring water, chips, and, of course, the NoMoo ice cream!
Good heavens, Herbert’s did a bit of clanging about just now, and it’s nearly midnight. Humph!
I’ve just realised I’ve only had two weewees all day?
Fan… Bloody Tastic!I don’t think I had above seven spring awakes last night! I was aware of this as I stirred into a pretend sort of wakefulness. The need for a wee-wee became apparent… and increasingly so as the seconds passed…
I fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid-Harold-testing, not-working, sleep-impeding, nauseatingly beige coloured, recliner. On the first foot shuffle, the right leg flailed about in one of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s rare, but famous for having Inchcock over and floored, Neuropathic Schuhplattler, dance routines. But, I beat the beast this morning, although how I’ll never know. Mind you, it was only a short sharp effort.
The only injury, and not a bad one by any means, was clouting my right knee on the chair arm as I hastened on one leg, to half hop back into the recliner. I don’t think I’ve caused any bleeding to Harold’s Haemorrhoids, no warm wet sensations from that area.
I stayed sat down where I landed, and I took a minute or two to catch my balance and composure. I reckon I’d done well there, not a bad start to the day, two minor victories on the trot, a good start! First, the getting some sleep, then mastering the wily skills of Neuropathy Pete, and avoiding what could have been a nasty tumble. I decided against going into another Smug-Mode though, I’ve been caught out like this before! It’s always a risk to engage smugness, something always seems to happen to spoil the moment.
I gently and cautiously rose to get to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for another unwilling, much force needed, and little evacuated, what was came in mini-sprurts and sprayed all over the place.
Not that it lasted long… certainly not as long as the after-dribble did. Again I was lucky enough, to avoid getting anything outside of the bucket doused. (It really is hard to resist going into a Smug-Mode, you know!) After the wee-weeing, I cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got the kettle on.
I forgot all about the kettle being on, but I used the electric one, so no need to worry. Which for me, is saying something! I got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer and got the BP done. Good figures: SYS 1487, DIA 70, Pulse recorded a sensible 91 bpm. Just one point over the recommended figure. The body temperature of 34.2°c was yet another pleasing result!
It had to come!
Into the wet room for a wash, and I made a start on the morning medicationings. Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was checked, no bleeding, so ordinary Germolene was used. I Phorpained Cathy Cartilage, Arthur Itis’s knees, and gave the hands a good rubbing in, cause sure as eggs are eggs, I’m going to get Colin Cramps visiting again. I syringed the ears out, dried it best I could with tissues, and got some of the three times a day Olive Oil dropped into each canal. I fear that the syringe did nothing to more any wax. Grungleturds! Despite my hope of loosening some by the constant use of oil three times a day! Took a Hemp capsule, because I forgot to take it last night. And orally took some CBD. Then a good few gulps of the Pentac.
I had the right job, trying to get the Phorpain on my feet! I wonder if there is some spray I could use instead? I’ll have a look at the web later. (He says, actually believing that he will not forget to do so. What an innocent fool the man is!)
I made up a waste bag, and it was time to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What an evacuation that was! I anticipated another struggle to get things going, and I utilised the crossword book… As I applied the littlest bit of pressure… Splurt-Plop! All done in one go! But it seemed to shoot out, and being of a sloppy, watery nature, it splashed all over the Porcelain, but stuck to where it landed! Worra Gooey mess!
I cleaned up and made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. Went out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park, and see if RVD (Red Van Man) had managed to park between the white lines. Of course, he hadn’t! The driver of the white van would be a good person to get parking tips from?
Finally, I made a start on updating yesterday’s blog. Much belatedly.
💙💛🧡💜 The Carer arrived, and much to my pleasure, it was Carer Sarah! 💗 She is beautiful, and a Caring Carer. So patient, and likes to have a natter! Perfick! She showed me photos of her two daughters this morning, on her mobile phone. Two great looking gals, with cute faces that relays their happy nature and cheeky ways. I fell in love straight away! Hehehe!
I was a little mad at myself for getting all behind with the blogging. I made a determined effort to try and catch up on it. I made a start on yesterday’s finalisationing. Got it posted, then Emailed the link. Went on WP Reader, and answered some comments, some great ones from Professor Bill. Always seems to raise a smile and or laugh from me with them. Thanks, Billum!
Then onto Facebooking, which with the TFZer gang, is always a pleasure. Then back to some more WP Reading to get caught up. Made a start on this blog.
I was sat sitting here at the computer, and that dreaded warm wet sensation was felt from the lower rear region! Off to the wet room to have a decker at the problem. It seems that there must have been a delayed reaction from the Haemorrhoids when I plopped down on the recliner hours and hours ago, now. For bleeding they certainly were! I got washed up and Germoloided the area (very soothing). Got some new PPs on again, I used the cheaper but just as effective Depend pants, that I got from Amazon. Now all I have to do is hope the piles don’t erupt again. It’s a life innit?
To make things that little bit worse, the unneighbourly, superior-natured, Gentleman above me started his knock-knocking once more. Still, it didn’t last too long this time.
Blimey, where’s the time gone? It’s now gone beyond 15:00hrs! I’d better get some nosh made up. I’ve got a few beans left from last night. I’ll have some chips and veggie pastie methinks. The chips were Harry Ramsdens. A good name and reputation, even if costly to buy, I’d bought a big bag too. I had to pick out the black eye spuds as I got them into the oven tray.
2: Another Splurt-Plop, messy session.
Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and got some low-calorie nibbles put out on the counter, for the Carers. It’s surprising how tasty these little 99 calorie ones are, I knave been known to indulge in one now and then myself.
Got the nosh sorted and served up… but not without the usual mishap… Hey-Ho! My poor little toe! I dropped the sauce bottle and it landed with extreme precision, right on my side-toe bunion. I just laughed it off and carried on.
I ate the nosh and gave it a taste rating of 6.5/10. Then got the TV on, and the Hungary v England Euro game was showing. Then remembered the No-Moo ice cream I had in the freezer, so went and got a big bowl of it to nibble at it while watching the match.
I didn’t like the fans booing at the anti-racist stance kneeling by the England players. But, there can be no disputing that Hungary was the better team on the day. We’re playing Germany next I believe.
The BBC reported: This opening Nations League fixture was due to be played out behind closed doors as part of sanctions imposed by the governing body for racist and homophobic behaviour by Hungarian supporters at Euro 2020. But Hungary exploited what is clearly an obvious loophole in UEFA’s regulations to ensure England was greeted by a large crowd, comprised mainly of children 14 and under accompanied by adults, and the sort of noisy hostility that made a mockery of the idea this night would act as a warning against future transgressions. What should have been stony silence became instead a wall of noise and the game was concluded amid wild scenes of joy and a lap of honour by Hungary’s players after Dominik Szoboszlai’s disputed 66th-minute penalty gave the hosts a 1-0 win.
Hungary’s elation was aided by an England display dripping with mediocrity and fatigue in a truly surreal atmosphere. Fair enough!
Part-way through the game, evening Carer Valerie arrived. She was perkier than usual, which was nice to see. She took a can of refried beans off my hands, as the other can I bought, tasted too strong for my innards to handle. Picked some low-calorie nibbles, grabbed the waste bag on her way out, and we shared farewells. Bless her!
Head down, but again no sleep cometh, tried the TV and that was all crap… then remembered I’d got the DVD working again, so put on a Dr Who disc in.
I watched the first ten minutes or so, then started nodding off and jumping awake, which is a regular occurrence nowadays. I persisted trying to watch a bit in between the nod-offs. Eventually, I got off to sleep for an hour or two, and the last episode was on the screen when I woke.
ODE TO CONFIDENCE
This became obvious and apparent some years ago… After the stroke, depression became an afterglow, I waited, thinking an increase in abilities will follow, But my hopes were dealt many a death blow…
But I’m so much better than other patients, I know… Some patients didn’t make it, which brought me sorrow, Since then, Peripheral Neuropathy, a broken toe… Cataracts, Glaucoma, even some impetigo! But, Dementia Doreen is the worst furrow!
To fretting, panicking and self-hating, I’m a theow Yet still want, no need, my caring to show… No idea if it’s working out yet, though… People go the other way, rather than say hello… To the madman, who looks like an overweight scarecrow!
I wanted Mummy to love me for sure… But crime had caused her departure… Police caught her in a cottage on the river Nure, But that was years later, not really a cure…
I wanted to become a competent swimmer… But I soon discovered that I was scared of water, I soon got Inchcock as a new nomenclature… I fought to get into the footy team, the agony I did endure… But I was useless; I even thought of becoming a friar!
Things were depressing and getting dire… Then we had a nasty frying pan fire… Left me scalded, but to the pain, I am no stranger, The most used word to me was Shurrup! I was a chinwagger… I once poked myself in the eye with a penny banger!
I try dancing, the Twist and the Conger… Of course, I can’t do them any longer… In those days, I was younger and stronger, And, I was earning some serious wonga, All of which I’ve spent and have no longer…
Nowadays, my life is a little austerer… To socialisationing, I’ve become a sightseer, My ailments often mean that I feel a bit queer… So when someone relates to me, I hold it dear… But folks generally keep away, don’t come near!
I became a Headway volunteer… Tried to give the patients a little cheer We’d share Monopoly, darts and the odd root beer… I’ve never been any kind of profiteer… Eventually, they said I was becoming battier…
Why? was it some form of solastalgia? I found out it was due to Peripheral Neuralgia, I was definitely getting a little crochetier… And my body was getting heftier… fatter, I decided that this didn’t matter…
With my self-hatred, I felt evermore guiltier… My calling myself names got much nastier, If I just accept things, maybe life may come easier… I even went to speak with the local vicar… He touched what he shouldn’t. I’m now a nonbeliever!
I still press on, getting wobblier and clumsier, To avoid depression, I tried to keep myself busier, Each day I get crappier, creepier, and dizzier… Even the carers think that I’m getting barmier! I admit I’m getting poorlier, older and bolshier!
There’s no denying that I’m getting more Clishmaclaver… Numbers, figures calculation I can no longer figure, I muse over my fear, praying there may be a cure… Against the darkness of gloom, I cannot enure!
Even talking to myself, I’m getting more spitefuller… I can’t reason things sometimes; that makes me mardier… And my body is aching so, and getting lardier… My wee-weeing is more frequent and dribblier, My Haemorrhoids are bloodier and much itchier!
The short term memory is confused, vaguer, muddier… And used to be such an excellent rememberer! At this moment, I don’t know if it’s March or September? Have I put the oven on yet? I’ll have a gander… No, I’ve not; what else have I missed on my agenda? Well, I left the hot tap on… frustration and anger!
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Diary Tuesday 1st June 2022
After perhaps twenty jump-awakes, I gave up on the 21st or so and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee at 04:10hrs. Grumph!
The leak was free of Pre and After Micturitional Dribbling. Well, that was something! It sort of got me in an up mood.
I trotted off to the wet room to empty and sanitize the wee-wee bucket, and I got the Ablutions done while I was in there. There was only one tiny nick shaving and two dropsies, none of which caused any bother. A good session as well this time.
Got the Blood Pressure and Temperature sorted out. Despite the lousy night’s limited sleep and unending damned shooting awake, I was not in a bad mood, with a jump almost! They are getting worse each night?
SIA 136. DIA 71 and the Pulse were at 77bpm, I think. Cataracts etc., making it hard for me to see. The body temperature was still slightly low at 33.6°c, but not a lot below the 35.0°c target. It might be more explicit when blogging.
I nipped off to make a waste bag-up and got some potatoes in the saucepan to marinate in the fish sauce before boiling later on. I was on form today!
Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and the early morning sky caught my good eye. The cloud looked like it would turn into an alien spaceship and burst into view. I must have got the idea from a film that I’d seen? I’ll remember it! Got some photo’s from the SD card onto the computer. And started to do the Ode Tuesday blog.
I’d not gotten far with the odeing, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. Trotsky Terence shared control; along with Constipation Konrad; I know it doesn’t make sense. But again, the movement took ages to get started and needed so much effort it was painful with it when it did begin, which wasn’t for a long time. I even got some answers in the crossword! But when things moved, they were cripplingly slow, and the final desperate push exited not rock hard as the first few but messy and gooey? What? I didn’t like that session at all!
Back to the odeing and got it finished at last. Getting ready to review the blog before posting, and ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ Chimed out. As soon as I heard it, I remembered I’d not yet unlocked the door. So, I did!
The look on Carer Richard’s face was with a place in the Tate Gallery! Worth a thousand words. Amongst them would be, “You pillock, you’ve forgotten again to unlock the door!” Hehe!
I was busy on the blogging, but due to a three-hour circumlocution of great vagueness, I can only use the scribbled notes to guess what took place. Here they are as best I can decipher them: Ode… rushing, emailed, Facebooking, WP Comments, WP Reader… Ode for today… Conrad Confusion, mind-blanks… rampant wee-wees…
I checked on the spuds to find that I’d not turned on the heat. Plonker!
Herbert was not so bad today, not as loud. But still persistent throughout.
Took Strawberries unwanted by Richard to Josie. Got the nosh sorted out. Beer battered chips were great, and new potatoes with BBQ sauce and a ketchup dip pot. Sourdough bread, veg sausages, and tomatoes. Baby banana to follow. 8.2/10.
Still vague-minded, no idea who came… yes, I have; it might have been Cheeky-Charley… Yes, I think it was. Bless her.
Grrreat!I nodded off within ten minutes and stayed that way for three solid hours! Then the jumping-awake started again… Grumph!
