– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sorry, but I ran out of time today. Photos mainly. Lots of hospital letters and appointments arrived; Carer came to do the medications and catheter but didn’t know how to do it. Still not done yet. I’ve emptied the day bag twice, but essential I have the night fitted, or else I’ll have to stay up all night again!
Not many comments, just what I could recall, but rushed it, not having had a meal yet with all the trying to sort out the needs and what, what with the Cystoscopy. Got to talk to the Doctor cause they said so, about stopping the warfarin?. in one of the many leaflets, maps and letters of advice they sent – that I can’t read them cause of cataracts. Pretty fed up as well; I know the pain of having a tube down Little Inchie into the bladder – Monday and Tuesday, I must have had the tube in and out five or six times. Anaesthetic is not to be used, and what going to go in this time seems about six times thicker. Plus, they may have to go back in and take samples from within the bladder. How much bigger will that tool be? I was at the limit of my pain acceptance Mon & Tue…
Sorry. From yesterday.
0500 this morning.
Below after Carer emptied and removed the night bag, about three hours later it looked like this! No idea what happened!
Morning kitchen window shots
HEALTH CHECKS
Emptied the Cataracts and…
To self: No, you didn’t, you idiot!
“I meant to write Catheter!” – Pratt!
Found that Little Inchie had been bleeding
Confused now, after reading what I could of the instructions, advice, and procedure I’ve to go through without painkillers. Not that it bothered me, a naturally brave, hardy man like me!
HIS THIRD CALL OF THE DAY.
He’s checked up on the web on how to change(fit)
a Night Catheter bag. And with a smidgeon of luck,
got it on and working. Gave me the Peptac medicine
and two Paracetamol. We had a short natter,
and he took the waste with him to the chute.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHIES TWO HOSPITALS VISITATIONS ON THE SAME DAY ODE
06:05hrs: After a night of multiple wake-ups requiring a wee-wee, I stirred. Got up with relative ease for me; catching the balance took a bit longer than usual, but I felt fine.
I could smell the wee-wee from the bucket from where I stood. I thought I’d got to use it and thought I’d better get it cleaned and disinfected before any carers came, straight after the peeing – which didn’t take place… the biggest shock in a while hit me as I looked down at the bucket! But I did notice how full the container was, compared to the average night/morning I got my glasses on, and that is when it hit me – the amount of blood in the urine shook me.
Also, when I took my leak, the contents of the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) started bubbling as I pickled into it! The camera was in the dressing gown pocket, so I took a shot of this. I needed to use the .
Which I also pictured after taking a no-content evacuation. All that came out was blood and wind! Now, I was worried! I checked the back passage as I papered it; there was no blood on it at all?
I took another wee-wee in a cleaning pot, as I thought, surely I’m dreaming here?
But no, it was a colourful medium red. Now, I was pretty worried!
From this point, and for over the next two days, I have not passed any urine through Little Inchie without the catheter on. Nor any matter from department. Then again, I’ve only been given food once over the two days, and it was very welcome! Oh, no, sorry, I had two slices of cold toast Tuesday morning at the City Urology Patience 2 ward. Arrived to the rescue yet again. The lads listened to me, a rarity with certain people, and acted immediately on seeing the blood. Richard made up a bag with a dressing gown, slippers and toothpaste and brush, PP’s included.
He waited for the paramedics to arrive and left after explaining everything needed to them.
The ambulance took me on the journey to the Queens Medical Hospital, depositing me in the A&E unit. Where I was placed on a trolley in what I think was corridor A.
My hopes rose, half an hour later, a porter came to move me into corridor H. The same chap came along an hour or so later. This time he moved me to Corridor C or something. A wider one this time, but still only room for one line of flesh trolleys. I got the Lumix and crossword book out. But it was hard work making out the clues, and filled in answers to the wrong clubs several times, then gave up. 30 minutes later, I made it inside the A&E unit.
Cheered me up a bit, seeing only about 80 trolleys in the main hall – I was getting there!
Mostly drunks at this time in the morning. Ah, Christmas spirit, the main reason, of course!
Moved me into the side room, and they fetched me out again minutes later. Ah, progress here, I thought! About to get the crossword book out again, and a lady told me I was going for some scans.
I was taken off of the trolley, given my stick and asked kindly, “You can walk with yer stick then? It was more of a threat than a question.
He looked a bit rough around the edges, so I readily agreed that I could manage.
They walked me into a cold side room
An eerie room; it stank of depression and vomit and had an icy coldness to it.
A largish area, an equipment stand for the BP taking, it didn’t look in good nick.
A mobile radiator (I think), a roll of carpeting, and a single wooden table with one metal leg hanging off. I got the crossword book out again, took these snaps, and the biff man returned with a petite but stern-faced female; “Follow us”
So I followed them into a scan room. They spent a good while scanning my privates and belly area. Then, out into the big waiting room again.
It was a sad sight seeing so many people looking angst, agitated, and generally well pissed off.
Although a few of them seem to have the will to live.
I waited there, back on a trolley, and a lot of medics came to see me over the next two hours. Many asking the same questions… there were a lot like that at both hospitals.
The only sleep I got in 48 hours, I think about ten minutes, was rudely awakened by several nursing staff, all intent on getting rid of me ASAP. I was bundled into a corridor and awaited a lift to the Urology department. The stockcar driver, I mean ambulance driver, gave me a roller-coaster ride to the City Hospital. Where I was wheeled to a bed and told to sit on it. I did. And was told somebody will be with you later.
I thanked the lady. Rescued my bag from a be away where the ambulanceman had left it and sat on the bed in Patience Two Ward. First floor up.
A nurse came and gave me two jugs of water, asking me to drink it all down, and ask for more when I had done so.
So I did. Various nurses, doctors and Mr Men came to see me. The BP and temperature were taken every half-hour. A blood sample was taken for testing each hour, on the hour. No sleep again!
Then there was the thing that was supposed to make me pass water. Drink it by the gallon, which I think I did, and they took off the catheter. And the guzzling started. Five hours later, they did another scan and put the catheter back on to rid my bladder of urine. An hour later, the catheter was put back in (A painful experience in and out!) More water guzzling. Scanned again, and the catheter was replaced painfully. (I’m sure the Doctor had a smile come over her lips each time she put it in or out?)
Back in the scanner loop again. Nobody informed me of any of the results. But they were up to the neck with patients in need. I assumed they would tell me later, but no! Mayhaps they’d got fed up with me not understanding or hearing what they were saying? I found out later they had sent all my details to Meridian Carers. Wish they had told me. Just as well, though. I may have gotten the facts and figures wrong. So, fair enough.
They took off the Catheter for the last time to try once more to force out the urine. So, back to the water-drinking marathon. It didn’t work. A Shame!
They then suddenly arrived at the bed, mob-handed. They spoke so fast, I must have missed 50% of whatever they said; I recall rightly I believe in hearing: Sending you home… Keep the catheter on for seven days and use the night ones? Erm… Night ones? No mention of the new medications or what the unknown reason was. And they took no interest in my telling them I’ve not passed from the rear end in three days now?
They started cramming my stuff into the big BM bag I’d taken with the things Carer Richard had gathered for me on first leaving the house. This all happened at break-neck speed, and a nurse came to them, ‘The taxi’s here!’ Another well worded: Surely you can walk down to get the taxi – meek me; “Yes, no problem!” I was in the right state by the time we got in the lift, along the long corridor and out to the waiting taxi.
Then the trip home was most uncomfortable. The driver, I called him Sterling Mosseth, was not hanging around, and the springs or whatever they are called nowadays were about worn out. Every crack and pothole, speed bump, and fast-breaking en route was painful.
I was not in good condition by the time I got into the flat. But at least the lifts were working. I got in the flat and put the bag down, but I forgot to call the Meridian Care office to tell them I was home.
I got down in the lift, and after opening the door to the link corridor with Winwood Court, I met, coming the other way to my flat, Carer Kara, Sam, or Jodie. Any names that I get wrong for Carers, I apologise; blame can be put on Non-Carer, .
We got up to the flat. The carer checked out the Catheter. We had a chinwag after she gave me the medication, and a bit of humour crept in. Hurrah!
After she’d left, I went to make a brew of tea. Glengettie… nothing but the best!
And took these two photos of the evening view. The first one I make a pig’s ear out of!.. But was almost on the verge of having a . But remembered those I took last week that seemed fins on camera. So, . did the late call tonight. We got the medications done. Then Richard opened the letters etc., that the hospital staff had stuffed into my carrier bag. Not easy learning about how you need to set these catheters up got the first time. But Richard mastered it, all working, and the night ones fitted me. He gave me a tip, and that was to put the Night Bag in a bowl, then it’s nice and low, and if, or as in my case, when you do have a split bag or a connection breaks, the bowl will catch it! Good idea! He also warned me that if I come off of them, the fun will start because I’ll still think of the catheter if they are removed; I’d no doubt wee away without realising. Argh! Hahaha!
I had planned to do a bit of work on this blog and get my head down. But, things, as usual, got carried away, taking so long yet still enjoying doing the blog… After a while, I risked going to take a break and make a Thompson’s Punjana brew.
❶ I went through to the kitchen and got the kettle on. ❷ Made the tea and realised the difficulty I faced: One cannot carry a mug of tea, a bowl with a catheter in it, and a walking stick together! ❸ My keen, alert, logical (Well, it was a year ago) mind soon sorted out the solution to the problem (I thought). ❹ I’d simply take the bowl and walking stick to the front room and return with the stick to collect the mug of Punjana… Mmm! I bet you can see the problem even if I didn’t at first?It’s like those training courses at work, innit? ❺ I took the bowl back to the side of the computer, turned to go back to get the mug, and realised this was not going to work when the bowl tipped over… well, it would; still being connected to the catheter! ❻ I did feel a fool! . I honestly thought what a I was at the time!
Then yet another Whoopsidangleplop, although I’m not sure it wasn’t closer to a , or might be nearer to the point. A nasty one this time. Yet it could have been worse. As the leg kicked out with its energetic but short-lived imitation of the Oky-Koki.
02:30hrs: Woke up for the umpteenth time, but not with , but the need for the And what a change in style this morning it was! I got seated on the throne and knew it would be advisable to get the crossword book out. Nothing was moving, yet the tummy told me there was a dollop needing to be evacuated. was in command of things, and he was not going to be rushed. I actually got a few clues answered as I waited for the action to begin. I thought it was comical when it did burst out… all of it in seconds, a blessed relief from the travel pains, followed by multiple plop-plopping sounds. And it was all over. No bleeding, no mess! I am not sure if the released product reminded me of hazelnuts or chocolate peanuts, but fell for the nuts cause they were harder. The WC needed only one flush to clear the contents away, and I felt rather good; I expected things to be more painful, messier and take much longer. No help or urging from me was needed at all. However, having been fooled before, .
Tackled then. Toothache Tiffany followed my breaking off another bit of a tooth.
Not such a good shaving session; back to the old habits of multiple nicks and cuts. About six, I think. The main reason is my own stupidity. After my first two nicks, I got out two new razors and dished the old ones – But No, I found out later I hadn’t! What I did was throw the new razors into the waste bin and carry on shaving using the duff old ones!
More Followed in the medicalisationing activities.
Made a bigger mess of missing the eyes with the drops than ever before! Had to conserve the Germoloid cream for. I forgot to get another tube when I went to the pharmacy on Tuesday. Yes, I swore at myself rancorously! I was so close to taking a Galpharm capsule in mistake for a Senna to help free ‘s grip on the rear-end workings. Just imagine if I had taken one… That could have been a right pickle and mess I’d put myself into again! A genuine bit of good luck that I realised in time!
But, of course, my smugness was short-lived. Putting the olive oil in, I somehow squeezed the rubber, and the oil flowed, I dropped the slippery bottle, and it landed with perfect precision: right on my left foot’s . It made me jump a smidgeon. Of course, I took it all in my stride, grinned and laughed off the agony.
I dropped the tube of Germolene due to an unexpected sudden and I dropped tube, and totally without thinking, I bent down to pick it up !
Oh, I’ve mentioned my new ailment yet, have I? I’ll introduce you to it then. Not easy giving it a name cause I’m not sure what it is yet.
Pains similar to , but around, the back of the rib cage. At first, I thought I must have banged something when I took the tumble on whatever day it was. But Carer whatshername could see no bruising.
Then I thought it might be something to do with bladder and urine infection coming back again.
Then I changed my mind cause I found the ribs hurting when I tried to lift my right arm; and if I tried to bend down at all. No idea if means anything, but had given many more bouts of the shakes this morning than she did all of last week?
Now, over the last eight hours, there have been times when there were no stabbing pains at all (unless I bent or raised my right arm), but the sharp stabbing pains always return and stay longer than the moments of relief.
I thought at first, well, it’s good luck that I have made (Carer TY did, actually), an appointment to see the Doctor. Then it dawned on me, it is 15 days away!
So, I’ve been at the analgesics more than I would have liked. But needs must. Is that the right saying? Needs must? Grammarly has not objected?
Right now, as I am typing my errors and mistakes on this blog, has just kicked of with her most violent attack of the day yet. But the stabbing pains in the ribs are now far less frequent? I’m confused… but that’s nothing new.
The last Accifauxpa of the , was only one of the regulars… No, having said that, I’ve done this for weeks, I don’t think? It was a bog-standard shoulder charge at the edge of the wet room door on leaving it. . And… please note this – there were no revenge shakings from . I’ve confused myself even more now?
It’s taken so long to get up to here on this blog – Blog time at 07:00hrs, but the real-time is now… sod it, the clocks stopped, battery kaput, methinks. I’ll get the spyglass and look at the computer clock… hang on… 15:18hrs, I just will not have time to put everything in detail now. Shorthand from here on folks, sorry me hearties!
Worked on updating and making mistakes on the Friday blog (4 hours). Got it posted. Pinterested. A massive amount of comments had come in on WordPress, so I replied to it. (One. Hehehe!) Emailed the link.
Carer Jamina arrived around 07:30hrs. A new gal to me. Lovely lady. Had a natter after giving me the medications. She checked the taps and stove on leaving, taking the waste bags to the chute for me. ♥
Went on WordPress Reader. But it wouldn’t give me access to some sites?
The Tap-tapping, bang-banging, drilling gentleman in the flat above kicked off again. Amazingly he was not too noisy this morning.
Pressed on, making error after mistake and hitting the wrong buttons and icons in my effort to get the Ode for the day done and Nottingham News graphics done. Harder work than ever now with the eyes so bad. I do love trying. Sorry for any errors that get through!.
Here are the early morning photographs from the kitchen. I nearly forgot them. Tsk!
Not too bad.
Had to keep going for wee-wees regularly throughout the day.
I don’t think I’ve taken so many in such a short time (six hours) before. Then again, thinking back, maybe I have; Hehe!
I just took my fourth trip to the Porcelain Throne.
I think Herbert must be going out today. Mayhap delivering some of the steam-powered toy trains to the kids at the school? All quiet now! 11:30hrs Carer Kara Arrived! I asked about the cleaner lady I’m paying for who had not called for three weeks. Kara looked at this week’s roster, and she’s on it… no, next week’s roster.
I pressed on, making cock-ups and mistakes on this blog for hours.
So tired now, with my getting up so early. Going to make something to eat, methinks some potato Rostis, tomatoes and rolls? Yes, with some BBQ sauce, of course. I might not be back until morning… then again, I may get up early again and make a start on updating this blog…
Or not.
Whoops, not done the Health Checks.
:
Smug-Mode-Adopted – Yee-ha!
A photo of the half-eaten meal of the day is here on the right. Vegan bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis, Orange yoghourt, and two brown rolls.
With my usual BBQ sauce.
Despite the and that kicked off as I started digesting this feast of flavour, I still enjoyed it muchly. Flavour Rating: 8.8/10!
Washed the pots… but when I got in the kitchen to do them, I found that I’d left the darned hot water tap running… Again! Self-cursing began!
Zzz! Deep sweet sleep… heavenly… I think I was having a tête-à-tête with St. Peter at his gates at one point. Well, more of an argument, really; he wanted to send me back to life again. No Way! Not with the everyday agony of the ailments, struggling with hearing, seeing, and the Mental-Torture of Dementia Doreen – I wasn’t having that!And, she’s given me aboulomania!
I was woken up when the 21:15hr late check call arrived at 22:10hrs. I recall the gal apologising for being late but little else. My chronology clock was all topsy-turvy. I remembered the Toblerone for her cause it wasn’t in the treats box this morning, so I got something right. Locked the door as she departed. (I know this cause it was locked in the morning).
Got off back to sleep, but this time it was full of the usual repeated, regular pullulating jerking awake with the twitching right shoulder, and often knocking something off of the ottoman as the limbs flail! That’s not right, is it? I did tell the Doctor about this. The response I got was an odd down-the-nose look that said to me: “The man’s potty!” followed by, let me know if it gets worse. What’s she waiting for, the arm to drop off? Or, for me, to pass away through sleep deprivation? It’s a lot worse now with extra waking-ups from the unaccountable …
Monday 04:30hrs: After another abysmal night’s lack of sleep, I gave up. and had, between them, given me the third sleepless night in a row. The Angina was the worst it’s ever been. A series of reasons, of course, are all confusing.
Who can we blame, then?
Well, on first thoughts, they were the people who assured me that they would be handling, ordering, fetching, monitoring and issuing the prescriptions.
But let’s be fair to them. They lost the Carer who did most of the monitoring, that was , taken ill last Monday. The poor lad was going to return today, they thought, but it seems he is still incapacitated. I wish I could contact him to see how he’s going on. Pound to a penny, his Diabetes-2 is involved in some way. (I later found out it wasn’t… Big Gob!)
Did the Doctor inform the pharmacy about the doubling of the Ann Gyna tablets (Omeprazole)? Did the chemist forget about them? Personally, I blame the Parole Board!
After wee-weeing and two, I say two visits in the following fifteen minutes, I got the health Checks done. BP and all that rigmarole.
Oh, dearie, me, back up to Hypertension-2. A shame that. I suspect that the lack of Omeprazole for the Angina and the lack of sleep had some bearing?
Got the blog updated and posted off to WordPress. Then I Pinterested some pictures.
I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana. And took three pictures out of the kitchenette window, which had roughly the same view.
The top one was in Auto+ mode, the second in Auto, and the third one was taken in Night Scene mode.
None of them came out as I would have liked. And I’ve learnt nothing from this little experiment… Other than when I reach up to turn the window handle, the pain shot right around the back into the… I think the kidney or bowel area.
A quick swearing session and the need for yet another visit to the overused this morning.
The session was again in full control of Trotsky Terence. Got the ablutions done while in there. A stand-up job; too early to use the noisy shower.
Finally got a brew made and got an email that came in from Iceland.
Minutes later, I was back, seated on the Porcelain Throne. A heck of a messy job this one was. I was cleaning it when a carer came in. I asked about the Omeprazole 20mg. But she didn’t know and could not help me get in touch with Richard.
arrived and gave me the medications. We spoke, and she is going to ask about the prescription situation for me.
Then. the DVT Warfarin nurse arrived; it was Hristina.
She soon got the blood taken. The IRN result form has not arrived from last Monday yet – Postal Strike and work to rule in the UK, don’t you know. Railway workers, NHS Nurses and power workers are all to follow. Oh, dear! That was followed by the Iceland delivery arriving.
I struggled to get the bags into the hallway.
The treat bottles were put in the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off.
A shame Richard has not got back to work, but better safe than sorry.
I still think his Diabetes-2 is part of his problem. All the best to him.
Thanks for caring for me, my mate! Keep safe!
I got the coffee treats and what should have been Richards into the fridge.
If the lad can’t get back to work, I’ll have to hand the burgers and meals to someone else. Gawd! is persistent this morning! Oh, it’s nearly teatime! Came back, and she’s got the prescriptions for me. ♥ UNFORTUNATELY: They’s only sent one box of Omeprazole – with a difference. They were 25ml and not 30 like the last ones, white, not yellow, and with a new name;Lansoprazole”
Came; I can’t remember why.
I had a phone call from Easy-Link to confirm they have booked a lift in the morning at 10:00hrs. For me to go to the Doctor’s. Grrreat!
I got a call from Easy-Link, to confirm the lift in the morning to the Doctors… well, nurses’ appointments at the Surgery.
Better get something to eat, then. Vegan sausages, tomatoes with basil, rolls… I’ll go and see what is available. I made a decent meal, but I took a photo of it, and it is not on the SD card. This is not surprising now, as I found I’d left it on the computer.
Came in. I was still groggy from sleep. But did notice the lad was still not looking or sounding very well. Croaky voice, coughing a lot, too.
He checked on the medical draw, and we spoke a lot... but most if what was said had gone into the ether.
I should see him in the morning.
Oh, I’m going to see the nurses Tuesday… pick-up is at 10:00hrs, I mustn’t forget.
06:00hrs: I looked at the clock and realised I didn’t want a wee-wee – this is the first day’s awakening for months that I didn’t want a pee on stirring back into resat life! All very confusing! Nonplussing!
started to kick off straight away, might be the late medications yesterday? But she’s been much worse, only short stabbing pains at the moment. It does not last for long, with plenty of breaks in between.
I rose from the £300, bought nine years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly, sickeningly beige-coloured, many crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner, caught my balance, grabbed 4-pronged Metal Micky, and off to checks the taps and get the kettle on for a brew.
I tried to get some decent photographs of the pretty morning view. I don’t think I id too well, do you? Haha!
Housewife Mode-Engaged! I set to getting the waste badges sorted out. Cleaned the sink area… well, tidied it up a bit, then! Got some more paper towels out to use and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Took the mug to the computer and checked for any messages or comments that may have come in from my hundreds of blog fans throughout the world. I answered them both.
During this, I kept hearing the oddest noises and thought it might be someone knocking on the door. I should have known, of course – it was the Herbert in the flat above giving me a concert of tap-tapping, knock-knocking with the odd loud crunching sound thrown in for good measure. I have to put up with this noise every single day, and at the weekend, it gets even worse. Still, no hard feelings, after all, as the Nottingham City Homes manager said to me: “He’s a wonderful man and makes steam engines for the school…” Nuff said. That was seven years of noisy hell ago. I wish him no harm, do not place curses on him, refuse to give him a neck-chop when I get near enough to him, swear about him, or hate him… just the noise he makes so regularly. I hope whatever it is he’s making comes out well. And the children, he seems to like, enjoy them.
As I moved on to updating the Inchie Today for yesterday, I heard a noise that sounded to my ears like firecrackers; it kept on for a few minutes, and I just had to have a look around in case someone was at the door or something may have fallen over. I had a momentary vision of an alien sliming along into Do-No-Wrong, noisy, snotty Herbert’s flat and slowly eating him alive. This cheered me up a bit; no harm in having a dream? Naturally, the noise was coming from the flat above. He got but more violent with it this time. Thuds bangs, and somehow, with tap-tapping in the background this time. Damned clever chap! I gave a tap or two with Metal-Micky’s handle on the high bookcase in return. He just carried on.
announced the arrival of . He got the medications sorted alright, and we had a little chat. He checked the taps and cooker on his way out with the waste bags for me. Nice lad!
I made up a bottle of spring water and added some lime juice, went to put it in the cubby-hole on the Hopewell’s 1963-built, falling to pieces, E-Plan Sideboard. Where I espied the Carers & Nurses Christmas bottle for them to choose. I must remember to ask a carer if there are any more names to go down.
The unfriendly, bumptious, toffee-nosed, self-important, snotty-nosed, condescending, sanctimonious animal in the flat above has never been as persistently noisy as he is today. If I meet up with him, he could just be ready for a fall! I am not a violent person, but many years of putting up with this protected by the Council Management turd; is getting to me now!
There will be a clash coming unless he cuts down on the banging about soon! The pococurante, dismissive, disrespectful, git… will no doubt lose out in any conflict, despite his grandeur and overconfidence, and I will end up in prison… the Prison Hospital, I hope. Then I might get the Dementia, DVT vein, and Cataracts seen too? And a new PC to work on? Be fed meals? Sounds good to me. Sorry Herbert, this is your last warning! (It’s not really; he’s in no danger from me).
Arrived to do a quick check-up and Client Review. And during the questioning and answering session, witnessed the noise that I was suffering from the flat above! As for myself, I can never tell if it’s him or someone banging on the door! I explained this to Kara. This is why I do not wear the hearing-aids when in the flat. Unfortunately, I can’t hear the fire alarm either, then.
But it doesn’t matter as long as Herbert can get away with such antisocial behaviour and him being immune from doing any wrong… the nasty, noisy bully.
Now then, can I remember the recipe from Grandma Griselda? Toad’s legs curdled with the blood of a Vampire, 2oz of Basil, 1 litre of Double strength bleach, and a tablespoon of TCP. Oh, what were the other ingredients? Eye of a newt and toe of a frog, the Wool of a bat and the tongue of a dog…
No, hang on… Am I getting mixed up with Macbeth? Hehehe!
At last, a decent mug of Thompson’s Punjana and three biscuits to dunk in it. By gum, this is a good life!
Hahaha!
Arrived, and he got me sorted out with the medications. I dropped one… Fool? Me? Yes! We couldn’t find it, but worked out it was a Codeine 30g, and although we were low on many tablets, plenty of them remained, so he gave me another one.
That git upstairs is driving me mad with the tapping and knocking.
It’s not doing my health or temper any good! It won’t do him a lot of good when I meet him again!The ignorant &^%stard!
I foolishly went on Amazon to see if they had any small Air-Fryers on offer – and ended up ordering one. There’s no stopping my sinking bank balance or stupidity!
. I went to get the kettle on again and took these photographs of the front car park. The left one to the right, the right one to the left… I think. Hehe!
Then Spend-the-lot Inchie actually went back onto Amazon and ordered a new keyboard. I’ve got to stop doing this!
I am so angry with myself – I could almost cry!
What the hell is the matter with me?
No need to answer that, folks; I’ve a sneaky feeling that I know, but not keen on admitting it, if you know what I mean… which is probably more than I know!
Nearly 18:00hrs and the Perfect-One, protected and adored by the management of Nottingham City Homes, is off again with his banging away! With any luck, he’ll have a heart attack before I see him again and save me from getting arrested for GBH. It’s a living hell! But I don’t truly mind a single bit. It’s all said in fun…
Oh! I’ve done the . I’d better get them done then…
Dang and bother and . I’m back in the Hypertension Red-1 zone again. Think I got spoilt with two days in the HIGH-NORMAL Pink. Hehe! Still, it’s been worse.
I was making slow headway with this blog, but better than none. Meant another long day for this old man. Hey-Ho!
Not has anything to eat yer, apart from three biscuits. I went into the kitchen to get the cooker oven heating up. And I was so glad I did; for the red moon was going down on the horizon; quickly too.
The results were very pleasing for once. Of course, I forgot all about putting the oven on.
Great balls of fire! He’s off again. A mechanical concert of bangs, tap-tapping and the odd clunk in between!
I went back to the computer and realised I was missing my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on TV channel 10. Did some more updating of this blog while half-listening to Heartbeat… I don’t put it on loud cause being a much better and less snotty A-hole than, let’s say, Fart-Breath, living above, and I don’t like to make noise and disturb my neighbours. Grumph!
An hour or so after taking the photos of the sunsetting, I then noted that I had not put the oven on after all. So I did.
It wasn’t really a depression I’d sunk into; more a moment of self-disgust and or loathing… no, it was depression. Tsk!
Got the nosh sorted out, well-gone 20:00hrs now… Oh, no, gone 21:00hrs! At last, the noise from above had ceased – but I’m anticipating it starting again, like last night at gone 22:00hrs.
NOSH TIME COMETH:
A decent-looking nosh, but unfortunately, the photo and all taken since were recorded on the Lumix without my having a memory card in it. I’d left it on the computer yet again.
Flavour Rating: 8/10.
Woke me; I noted I’d fallen asleep watching Heartbeat; I’m missing more than I had watched lately. Thanks to turd-face up above, wearing me down with all his bashing and banging about, I’m so tired. Jo-Anne got the medications sorted as I was about to eat the meal. Left a pot of Lumix for me to take after the meal. We had a natter and insisted she selected her choice of thank you drink. Went with her to lock the door, and she took the waste bag with her to the chute on her way out.
06:10hrs: I woke up in the usual fashion with a jerk after having already woken up several times in a similar fashion. Had a wee-wee, quick wash, utilised the , the first time, which was followed by four more by midday! Changed into socks, PP’s, trews and dressing gown.
The second visit to the, . Made a brew of Glengettie. Got some spuds cooking in the slow cooker.
Got the fridge dates checked. There were some I could not see or decipher, thanks to , and the foggy, not to mention . Took a snap of a large number of vehicles this morning down on Chestnut Way in front of the Woodthorpe Court block of flats.
Made up some waste bags; I had to dish even more of the Asda potatoes that had gone green overnight. Got the computer on and had a go at the free find three logos competition.
Not doing any worse this year; my record stays a two (February).
All other times it was one, like today.
Got on CorelDraw and Word to make this template.
Back for the 3rd visit.
Then an amazing thing happened. What a Shock!
Mr Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down. Humph! How do they get away with it, being such rubbish and overcharging idiots like me for a pathetic service? And Fries still gets his phenomenal salary and guaranteed bonus?
Not that I’m jealous of the Smoke & Mirrors; financially manipulative man, of course.
Arrived, and it was nice to see him. He was yawning at the end of his shift. Got the medications sorted, and we had a mini-natter. He checked the taps, stove and lights left on for me. Richard found some medications out of date, which we wrapped and threw away.
number four visit was activated. this time, only just got there in time. This is a problem because I need to go out to get some money. At this rate, I dare not go out, but will still need the cash to keep paying bills. A dilemma here!
Made a brew of Glengettie tea and eventually got back on the computer. Updated the Sunday blog and sent it off to WordPress.
and Ty arrived for the second check visit. Ty helped me with the Amazon confusion I was in. I took another Paracetamol cause the bladder was still playing up pain-wise.
Rang out, and the DVT Warfarin nurse came in and did the INR blood test for me.
A different nurse this time seemed in a rush, but pleasant enough.
Visit number five was attended to. With the evacuations in control of Trotsky Terence and a few close calls, I may have to leave getting out to get some cash for fear of getting caught out? Leaving me in a quandary: if things are the same tomorrow?
I got a text message from Asda telling me of the shortages and substitutes on today’s order. Oh, dearie me… Another cock-up on my behalf! I thought I’d cancelled this order when I made the one for Sunday. Apparently not!What a clot! In fact, this got me self-hating and cursing at myself!
As I made a start on this template, I changed my mind. And decided to get the done instead. Fancy me equivocating? Ahem! Off to the wet room with the clothing needed for after. Hope the shower still works and there is enough hot water to get a shave safely.
Commenced: The visit… erm, six is it? Was needed. I’m becoming something of an expert on the Throne! Hehe! Good job I didn’t go out to get some cash, after all. My fears of the shaving cuts were right. At least eight cuts were gleaned; I thought I was going to break the record… but it was close. Another couple and I would have.
The showering was a little farcical all around. Hit my head on the power box – Twice! Dropped the picker-upperer when trying to retrieve the loofah and then head-butted the tiles when I lost my balance bending down to get it! All this pales into insignificance compared to the pain that came from , and him getting crushed in the process! Crying was an option I had considered at the time…
But getting out of the shower and stubbing my against seemed to be more important at that specific time. The language that I spouted was crude, common, foul and naughty! So much so that I surprised myself, and a sense of guilt overcame me. I gave myself a lecture for being so generic in my vocabulary.
Then, I dropped the bleach bottle as I was cleaning the bowl… no need to say what started again, is there? !!!
When getting dressed and pulling up the trousers with the picker-upperer, I dropped it and unthinkingly bent down to try and catch it – The only thing I achieved was . How I didn’t cry, explode or commit suicide, I don’t know for sure.
I was giving the much splashed with wee-wee WC a clean and disinfecting with Dettol, and arrived. I think if I could have got the tie on the trouser waist undone in time, all this would not have been necessary?
Jo-Anne got the medicines sorted out and issued. We had a little natter, and off she had to go. I think she checked the taps during the visit, as she helped me sort out wet room things. Bless her!
As Jo-Anne was leaving, three letters arrived, and she handed them to me.
The first was from the NHS Hazelwood, The Coppice Hospital. I assume this is for the first brain Scan to be done. I hope they find one; cause Dementia Doreen certainly has done!Haha!
The second was the INR Results; at first, I thought there was no way they could have gotten this to me on the same day? It turned out to be the one done on 28th November! No wonder I couldn’t find it when the nurse asked me for it earlier.
The last letter was the bill for the Carers services. It says the cost to pay will be £354.24…
I’m bloody fed up with myself at the current moment. I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running… again. AGAIN!
Everyday life is such a battle nowadays.
Peripheral Neuropathy, Diabetes, Neurotransmitters dying. The eye problems’, Saccades-Sandra, Glaucoma Gladys, Cataracts Katie. And mayhap the worst conundrum of them all, Doreen’s Dementia. With Duodenal Donald, Ann Gyna, Reflux Roger, and now the temporary members of my Ailments Club as well. , Bladder Belinda, Trotsky Terence, Colin Cramps, Toe-Stubbing Thomas. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Devlin’s Deafness, and occasionally the Mind-Blanks… All are liable to attack at any time… ad do too!
Take the PN-inspired, I wish someone would take them. They can last from a few seconds to at night when lying down, half an hour or so. Most embarrassing when I am, say, in a bus queue in Bulwell, everyone else in the shelter scattered when the leg dance kicked off, and a minute later, a policeman appeared looking askance at me, asking if I’d be drinking or taking drugs! I’m talking myself into a depression here! I’d better leave this subject now.
The unexpected Asda delivery arrived after had not long gone.
The deliveryman took the things through to the kitchen for me and put them in the boxes as well.
I happened to see the four substituted for Cottage Pies, Lasagnas and asked him to take them back, which he did gladly enough; bless him.
The potatoes that arrived yesterday, had all gone green now and had to be thrown away.
Today’s lot looked a lot fresher, though.
They substituted semi-skimmed weak milk for the full cream again. The coffee for the nurses and carers that were not available yesterday but did arrive today.
On yesterday’s order, I’d asked for three different types of bread and got none.
I did better today; I asked for the same three but got one. The Sourdough rolls.
I had a heck of a job-making room in the fridge to get the food in it.
Unfortunately, there were so many items that either did not have a sell-by date on them (that I could find), or the printing was just not big enough for me to recognise.
One good thing, though, is I might be near-bankrupt with all this massive Dementia Doreen-inspired food buying, but I shouldn’t starve for a while anyway. Hehehe!
The two more packs of the Asda brand Soya Lemon Yoghourts are now ensconced with yesterday’s two packs, and I now have sixteen mini tubs of the stuff. I must ask Richard or one of the other carers to check on the use-by or best-before dates on them for me.
I’ve got a pack of the new BBQ beans in the saucepan, with some 7-Vegetable sauce added, some soya bacon bits, and finally, a good splodge of BBQ sauce will be added when I get around to eating it for supper.
Arrived on his evening checking visit. He asked what I was cooking, saying it smelled nice… I’d left the heat on the saucepan and the oven on! Good job that Richard called. Most likely, he saved the meal for me. I added the mushrooms to the bean stew, ready to heat up later I was deep in concentrating on doing this blog, and smelt nowt? The look in Richards’s face said, erm… well… . Hehehe! Richard took the waste bags with him after we’d had a little natter.
I used the tablet splitter to half a few Warfarins in advance for the carers for a few days. I don’t want them slicing their fingers.
I realised I’d forgotten to put this photo on the blog. So I did. Better late than never. I think I took this about 05:00hrs, or thereabouts, as the street lights on Mansfield Road were just being turned on. Then, I turned off the computer and concentrated on getting the bean & potato meal prepared for consumption. I’d added some Ben’s liquid smoke into the potatoes, which were cooked in the crock-pot for over eleven hours on low. So they absorbed the flavour into the skin and tasted Wunderbar! As did the mixture of BBQ beans, soya imitation bacon bits and the 7-Mediterranean vegetable sauce with basil passata. Thought I’d made too much at first, but I masticated my way through it and ate the lot of it! Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, lovely!
Washed the pots, settled down, and sleep came easily. And this time, I only woke up jerkily four times during the night. Grrreat!
05:00hrs: I sprang almost energetically awake for the umpteenth time. Grasping what brain cells were active, I pondered over getting up or nodding off again.
The decision was made the moment I sensed movement from the rear end building up, followed by a wet emission of air! A sort of long silent phlutt!
The stomach ache had all but gone while I was motionless trying to kip, but the very second I moved to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, the agony returned. Off to the . : ❶ Fumbling, I tried to get into the wet room ASAP, for the action was starting on its own accord.
❷ I hit my shoulder on the door frame, that set of .
❸ The tie on the trousers got stuck, and I could not get the pants down in time!
❹ Before I’d serried on the Throne, the action started. And it was in full control of . Semi-liquid. You can imagine the mess I had to clean up!
❺ Just to add to the confusion, when I was mopping and disinfecting, I knocked over the glass bottle of olive oil. Yes, it broke this time! Trying to clean up an olive-oiled wet room floor is not easy, I can tell you. Thank heavens for loads of kitchen towels I had in and the super picker-upperer to use.
Then, Oh, the joy of joy…
❻ I needed to use the again! But being where I was at the time, about 6 inches away from the Throne, I got things down in plenty of time.
I think the Urine Infection has moved to the bladder?
I took a couple of morning photographs from the kitchenette window.
The top one is a little blurry, but the sky looks just as it does in the photograph.
O hung out of the window smidge to take this shot of the car park on Chestnut Way.
I went back to the wet room with as much haste as I could muster. Far better this time. I got all settled well before the Trotsky Terence controlled semi-liquid flowed from the innards! Being in the wet room again, I decided to do the ablutions.
No doer, it was a little early for using the noisy shower yet.
Do, I had a strip wash, teggies and shave.
I’m not sure for certain, I couldn’t see the nape of the neck, but I reckon I got away with just two nick shaving! . I think the legs and ankles looked a lot better.
Pale yet blotchy skin, yes, and the toes peripherals were still a different colour to the rest of the foot.
I then tackled, mayhap one of the riskiest of dressing jobs! Sock Glide Glenda! And came out of it… ready for this? UNINJURED! And that was after putting on a pair of long Diabetic bamboo socks, as well. DOUBLE … No Triple!
Arrived, not seen him for a while. We had a natter after he did the medicationing. He checked the taps were not left running, and took the waste bags with him for me.
Got a message from George-Asda, telling me that the dressing gowns will be coming today between 12:00@14:00hrs. It’s now 13:35hrs; we’ll see.
I went through this yesterday, and it is telling me it’s on its way. Oh, of course, it never came. I have little confidence in them.
Eventually, I got the Saturday blog sent off to WordPress. My friend Bill had done a blog. I had a look at it, liked it, and commented. Civil rights; Gone wrong in the USA.
Came for the short check visit. Gave me the Peptac and a Paracetamol. Checks the taps, and he departed. Nice lad.
I’d finished the blackcurrant spring water and delved into the c1962 Hopewells sideboard, with the hanging-off door and unclosable drawers, and started on the Tonic Water with added orange juice.
I saw the Haribo marshmallows and was sorely tempted. But resisted! Got the done.
Return figures I put them in the NHS analyser and was pleased to see that they were still in Hypertension – 1 Red.
I sense that the figures will improve.
Not the foggiest idea of how or why, but it seems that my EQ s confident that things will improve? We shall see tomorrow!
Hello, back to the , better this time.
Arrived. Did the checks.
Then I got settled to watch the England v Senegal match.
Not a great match. Senegal was, at times, the superior side, I thought. It was hard work, but the lads got through it.
My worry now is if they play the same against France, it’s not going to be a pretty thing.
Arrived after the match had finished. Nice to see him again.
Tried to get to sleep, but it wasn’t good. Kept constantly waking up with a jump.
06:30hrs: The eyes popped open. The brain refused to engage a gear, I think. Because I found myself wee-weeing, then sorting the bins out, making up waste bags… then sitting on the Porcelain Throne. All within 30 minutes! Washed and refreshed, I got the computer going and got the worked out. Adding up to the NHSS analyser placing me in the Hypertension-1 Red area.
Which was not bad, looking at the previous week’s returns.
I see there is a good mix in levels recently: I make it 3x High Norms, 1x Hyper Three The highest), 1x Hyper Two, and 2x Hyper Ones.
The Normal one on Thursday stands out like a sore thumb.
Today’s Hyper-One was very close to being a High-Norm,
So no complaints there! Well, it had to happen again. Virgin Media went Down! Didn’t it, Mr $26 million a year salaried boss of Global-Liberty Fries, who bought Virgin Media and told the customer call centre staff in England, never to mention Liberty Global to customers!
There has to be something dodgy about this, surely? Financial wizardry? Money-Laundering? (The act of engaging in transactions designed to obscure the origin of money that has been obtained dodgily). Figure manipulating? The ulterior motive that will lead to bigger profits? Deceitfulness? Deception? Dishonesty?, Dissimulation? Double-dealing? Hocuspocus?, maybe Jiggery-pokery?
Why pay $24b to buy a company just to run it into the ground? I wonder if Liberty-Global’s lesser financiers in the insurance business are involved somewhere along the line?
No, I’m not jealous of the man just because he gets a ridiculous amount in salary and guaranteed bonuses, even an unmonitored expense account. Nor that he is totally incapable of running an internet service that may manage a day without going offline. Or that he keeps putting up the prices to customers. then advertises his business as ‘Super-Fast’, ‘Most Reliable’ etc.
Arrived without pressing the door chime. I asked her to do so in future, please, nicely like, and explained why. She said she would when the reasons were given to her; bless her. We had a mini-natter and laugh, and off she trotted.
Ah, Liberty-Global Virgin Media came back online. Don’t anyone tell Fries, though; someone at Virgin may get into trouble for doing something right! We can’t have competent people working at Liberty-Global; it’s not natural.
I made an Asda order for Sunday delivery. This should give me time to sort out Richards in thanks treats, so he can have them on Monday morning.
I even managed to find the ‘No Substitutes’ page and used it for most of the items.
As I was closing the site, I espied a link to Georges Clothing, so went on to investigate if they had any dressing gowns in stock. I feel awful about wearing the one warm one I have left on for so long.
Of course, if the ones I ordered from Amazon had arrived, there would have been no need to get any others, but they haven’t. Before having a look, I checked on Amazon to see if there was any chance of them arriving.
Nope, but they did say it was the Post Office worker’s actions that were delaying the gowns from arriving.
Also, I couldn’t cancel the order until I had contacted the seller? Swine!
So I contacted them via the link on the page. Explaining that I’d had to buy some elsewhere, so wish to cancel the order.
So having contacted the seller, I went to cancel the order on Amazon. I got the above answer; If the seller does not resolve the issue within 48 hours of your first message, you can revisit this page to ‘Check’ if you are eligible to ‘Request’ an A-Z Guarantee refund. This stinks! Note the ‘to see if you are eligible… I’m not going to get a refund or the bloody dressing gowns at this rate – and still, I can’t cancel the order! Which Amazon has taken the money for!
Arrived. She was busy on the mobile, trying to get help for a previous client from Nottingham City Homes. No problem with that. She got the medications sorted and gave me help with the Amazon issue; bless her ♥. Got the refund from the supplier! We had a little natter and laugh, and I insisted on her treat in thanks for being chosen.
I updated the Google Calendar with the two deliveries coming, the dressing gowns and the Asda food order.
Got an imitation beef pie in the oven cooking.
Chips in curry in the microwave.
Made a meal of sorts, and with the two last slices of wholemeal bread and a pot of soya lemon mousse, I tucked into it.
I enjoyed it, too, for once.
Flavour rating: 7/10.
NOTTINGHAM NEWS SNIPPETS
Four years? Bearing in mind his history of armed robbery, is this a deterrent or Present for him? And what a mitigating statement from Raglan Ashton to read to the court, and still he gets only four years. Look at him! Unquestionably the pathetic overpaid Parole Board parasites will free him on licence within months! But it will be kept quiet!
Got down in the recliner and awaited the last Carer Call of the day. I really wanted to just sleep. Ah, Sweet Morpheus Came in and gave me the last dose of Peptac, and checked the taps (faucets) were not running. Took the waste bag with her on departing; bless her.
I got my head down around 04:00hrs. The customary wee-wee was far less painful this morning. Just before 08:00hrs, rang out and came in. The poor thing looked done in. I felt so sorry for him and not a little guilty for taking up his time. But he won’t be anything but reliable & conscientious. I think I babbled on a bit and confused him at first, so schtummed the nattering a tad. He soon got the medications sorted. I appreciate having him call; I love his double-yawns! (Hehe!) Soon got the medications sorted for me. Checked the flat for anything left on or dangerous and gave me the all-clear. Richard gave me a belated Calls for the week of listings.
I think he may be calling again; according to the list, I have a total of five from Meridian Care today.
One of them is for ‘Shadowing’ – for 45 minutes. I’m sure that Meridian’s Tina explained what this meant to me, but even at the time, I seem to remember thinking to myself, ‘I’m not going to remember that!” I was right. Oh, it’s for 75 minutes, innit?
Three-quarters of an hour ‘Shadowing’… the mind boggles. A call came in. It was from the Coppice Hospital. It was a reminder of tomorrow’s mental assessment. I mentioned that my carer would be coming with me, and the problems we have had in finding the location of the area we need to go in.
She said: straight in by the bollards and go right; it’s a dead end. Put a note on Richard’s pad about it.
Next: arrived. All done in ten minutes. He went on his mobile as I was talking to him, so I shut up. Usual plonk chosen in thanks.
Next; . They went well; wait for this… There was not a single cut shaving! (Fair enough, I did bang my head when I dropped a tube of Germolene later on when I cleared the floor cabinet top! All the others fell this side of the WC, but the Germolene bounced behind it. Hence I have a pretty red mark on my head)
The feet and legs were looking rather pale again. And the ankle ulcer had transmogrified yet again.
Next, The Meridian domestic lady, Denise, arrived. She soon had the Hoover out on the job. I asked her if she could check to see if my laundry was ready downstairs for me, so I could get the heavy dressing gown on, as I was feeling a little cold now without it on. Denise went down and returned with my bag of laundry. The clothes had not been folded.
They were all squashed together. She took them out and hung them for me on the clothing racks and hangers. Bless her. Nice gal.
CorelDrawing next to see if I could find a cartoon to amend and use.
(I believe I’ve missed things off of for an hour or two. I did take a break and .
Made an order for Asda for next Monday… or Tuesday.
A deep, body-insisting kip. Arrived. We had a mini-natter. She chose one of the Kaparrberg Cyder with strawberry & Lime cans as part of her treats. I mention this so I just may remember to ask her what it was like when she came again.
Arrived. H & D Check done. I was deep in sleep at the time, and fear much of what took place is a bit hazy now. We spoke of the trip to the hospitably that he has kindly agreed to go with me (Costly, Richard knackering, but worth every penny to save have him with me) for the Mental Assessment to try to find out exactly which form of Doreen’s Dementia I have.
It seems that there are many different types that can be identified and treated differently in hopes of slowing down the varmint Doreen.
I recall walking to the door with Richard and then asking him something. But question and answer seemed to have departed company with my brain?
Best as I could recall, it would have been about five o’clock when I went to put the kettle on to make a Welsh brew of Glenghetti tea.
This Ode writ to show yer the wee-wee rate today!
While doing the brewing, A mug of tea ensuing, The bladder continued bubbling… Took one photo. and off for a peeing, Washed, back to photographing, Tea had done brewing… Got out the milk & off for a wee-weeing! Out of the wet room singing…
Forgot the tea, did the binning,.
Ah, the tea, which was now freezing,
Still, it didn’t matter to me.
Weeing, It was not free-flowing…
I could be in the shit; you see! Hehe
Ouzzat!Back-Down to High-Normal!
And, I not long since when taking the shower shaving routine, that my right hanging-sack is swollen and so tender. Humph! I presume from the effects of the urine infection or whatever it is. As the wee-wee rate was dropping. The swelling and pain started coming and still getting worse. Typical, I get an appointment, then find that I can’t get an Easy-Link bus; the poor devils are out of volunteers. It’ll be dodgy on the buses, but I’ve no choice. Finding it a lot harder to see things now, like traffic, walls, kerb, and bus stops, and have to manoeuvre around the 3-wheeler walker trolley. Do you know, I’m genuinely nervous about going out, not being able to see or hear.
About 45 wee-wees later, I’d stopped drinking before going to the doctor and got things ready to go. But if the Carer is any later I may miss the bus… “I may miss the bus!”! You may not believe the farce that took place… However, by way of a cheer, the had developed what a work of an art form is. I felt like it must be a label or something that could be pulled off? Off course, in my condition, there was no way I could reach it anyway – and should I have tried, my right onion bag would have likely burst as I swashed it, getting down to it. Not to mention the agony it would have given me. Hehehe! Believe me, it gave me plenty of chance for the odd Argh! Winching & cursing throughout the day and night! Arrived, and I asked him if he could help me with getting the does on, Or to be more precise, fasten the velcro on them. TY was happy enough to do that for me. I waffled too much, and the lad forgot to give me the second Omeprazole table, my fault. Treats selected in, on my insistence, thanks. Took the waste bag with him as he left. I wandered of again there, sorry. Now, it was now up to me to get to the bus on time. And I did too! My left side lips gave a slight curl upwards. Initially, I did, but the Swaggering blossomed.
I caught the 40 bus to go down Winchester Street, get off on Mansfield Road, and catch another bus into Carrington, where the Sherrington Park Medical thingamabob is. When a lady got on who I’d not seen for ages, I started a chinwag with her. As she got to get off, I realised that we were on top of Mapperley Plains Activated, and I got off with her but could not catch her up. I was in a mental flap of sorts, concerned about being late for the appointment. This kindest lady came to me and asked me if I was alright. I explained my big , and she asked if she could call a taxi for me. Bless Her! And she did. A taxi arrived in about three minutes and put the trolley walker in the boot and me in the back, and we were soon arriving at the surgery. Phew! There was a decent wait to be seen. Which told me I’d got the timing wrong again. I was proven right later on when the Doctor mentioned how early I had arrived. Tsk!
I told doctor Vindla of wee-wees, how painful they were and only the off sprinkle coming out. Off t the treatment room And she had a look ot the bladder and Shot up the backside to have a feel around. I felt that one! Then something long and cold. I didn’t ask.
Two Meridian gals… I think Tina and Jodie came in as I was sat sitting at the computer, trying to resettle the giant-sacked ball whatsit between my legs. The legs also grew greatly today? I fear that the photographs I took while out, fifteen of them, many never made it to the SD Card. A message something like ‘This photo cannot be viewed’ showed on the Lumix screen. Huh!
The FARCICALISATIONAL began. I got wrapped up well, remembered the Sample tube thingy, filled, of course. Hehe! I got to the public bus stop, and other tenants joined us there. And a bus arrived within minutes. I got into the vehicle with no injuries, got sat down and off we went. My mind was concerned at that time about what and how I was going to explain my symptoms to the Doctor. (I would have checked my notes written earlier… but they were in the living room back at the flat. We arrived at the next stop, and a lady and gent got on. It’s been so long since I saw them since I don’t get out much, and I greeted them like family and launched into questioning them about how they were getting on. The lady said she was sorry, but they were getting off at the next bus stop. Then a sickening feeling filled my stomach, with a self-hating mode coming on when I realised where we were, going in the opposite direction. I’d got on the wrong bus! I alighted with the pair, and not a full mode, but it soon became one when I realised the problem I was going to have to get to the surgery on time now.
I crossed the pelican lights to the other side, but none of the buses went to Carrington from there. (I wondered at that moment if this was a suitable name for EasyLink to use) But did not blame them; I more cursed my own luck and Dementia Doreen! This very kind lady came to me (I supposed I must have looked worried?) and asked if I was alright. I briefly explained my cock-up, and asked if there was a taxi place nearby. Bless her. She got on her mobile and ordered a car from DG for me. This arrived within three minutes and five more, and we were pulling up at the Sherrington Park Surgery. The sun came out as I paid my dues.
Whoever the lady was To whoever the lady was who helped dave the appointment for me. ♥
I got inside, and when I logged in, the lady in reception pointed to the chairs. (Doctoresse at this surgery for Please take a seat) Which in many ways was such a comfort; because it meant I was not late.
With how the eyes were, there was no point in taking the crossword book (although I meant to, I just forgot to, Ahem!)
I looked through every leaflet on the walls, and there was no shortage, but there were only about four with print big enough to read.
I sat for about twenty minutes: Not easy sitting, you know! When one of your man bits is three times the size of the other one, without trapping or sitting on it. Well, impossible, actually!
Dr Vindla came to me, smiling… that always scares me for some reason nowadays Hehe! The first thing she sails was, “You’re good and early today, Gerry. Let’s have you in…”
I’d got the appointment timing all mixed up again! Shouldn’t really be such a shock with my record, but so many in such a short space of time were worrying me a smidgeon.
I don’t suppose for one second that they bother my uninvited interloping brain resident, Dementia Doreen, do you think?
I’m surprised I don’t have a headache; I bet she’s in there amongst the confused brain cells, throwing a party. or maybe having a revelrous-celebratory knees-up with Alto-Ego?
I wonder how long it will be until my grip weakens so much that I will not care anymore? Just a thought. Well, at the moment, anyhow. Back to the surgery… I strayed well off-topic again there; sorry. I told the Doc all about my four sleepless nights and the mushrooming, three-time it’s usual size tender right bit in my men’s department. I can’t be certain, but I thought I detected a little wry-smile creep into her expression. It was off into the examination room for me with her. She got me positioned and ready for her to delve into certain orifices. She said; I’m going to have a feel… (By gum, that took me back in time, Hahaha!) a feel of your Prostrate, which she did. I just lay there in bliss for a minute. Then, another delve into the rear quarters, I sensed a bit of squelching, and then Dr Lona said something, but I didn’t hear what she said clearly.
Back in her room, then spoke again. She has sent an email to the chemist, which I can fetch now, for some MacroBid antibiotics. Do I did. But not until Dr Vindla gave me an appointment with the Nurse – I nearly got excited then. Haha! It’s with Nurse Lisa. For 30th December at 10:30hrs. I wish I’d asked what it was for, not hearing her tell me earlier, but by now, no-doubt Doreen was back in action, making sure that any signs of contentment, peace, or understanding had no chance in hell of maturing. She’s good at that.
For some reason unknown to me why this is the moment that what I thought was a swollen and painful right testicle started to turn into a really swollen and agonising pain-giving testicle! No idea what caused this, but as the day went on, in the morning, typing this, it got worse. I really am in the shit now, and have to walk to the chemist and then catch two buses to get home! A daunting challenge, that daunted me! Argh! Got to the chemist, collected the prescription, and had to decide whether to walk into Sherwood or use the bus. Not an easy decision. (Well, none are for me nowadays)
I knew that on the bus, there would be no chance of avoiding injury to Spanish Onion Henry. (I christened him that as I give names to all my ailments) Well, he feels that size, you see, to me. Hehehe!
Knowing that I had to catch the bus from Sherwood. No way would Spanish
Onion Testicle Henry have coped with walking up the steep hill; I decided it would be easier to walk into Sherwood. There was only one really near-bothersome that happened en route.
When I was passing some of the brand-new Escotters on the kerbside. (Putting them in that spot must tempt the scallywags to use them on the road, surely?)I had the above thought (Oh, yes, I have thought every now & then, Why I recall having one in Made 1968). I had a few seconds scary . BY Gawd, SOSTH didn’t half sting for a bit. Good job, I didn’t go over. Anyway, I made a tag for him cause I see no signs of him getting any smaller.
Caught the bus in Sherwood back up to the flats and got inside, and must say, although I thought at the time, was painful, it was going to get a lot worse.
I dare not sit down at the computer at first for fear of inflaming SOSTH. So, I got the kitchen floor mopped. A pathetic effort, but it made me feel better for trying.
Then. Tina and Sam or Jodie from Meridian called. To tell me, Richard has spoken with them, and she has worked hard to get the NCC to allow some extra care time and arrange for the laundry to be done at no extra cost. She’s also trying to arrange for Richard – or another carer to go with me on Thursday to the Coppice hospital. That is a worry less; if it’s Richard, the hospital tells me it must be someone that can accurately answer questions about how I have changed in personality. Richard is the only one who can do that. I do appreciate them trying for me. ♥
After this, I honestly don’t know what occurred until the evening Carer arrived. It was not a good visit, a tension in the air as I recall. I was not given the new double dose of Omeprazole. The Peptac server was left on the carer’s table. And the waste bags were not taken. But I still offered him a treat in thanks. It may have been me talking too much again.
Shortly after the Carer left, my body closed down after I’d taken my third wee-wee in an hour. I . Woke at about 03:30hrs and was soon back in the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner again, after taking a wee-wee. Great, only four awakenings all night to use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). A record that!
