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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.
TTFNski!
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No messing, I got the teggies done, bleeding gums, and started Toothache Tiffany of again.
than usual cause I was rushing, I suppose. I thought to myself, a 2-hour ETA means I’ll be sitting waiting and afraid to do anything cause I’ve got to respond straight away; they tell me when the lift arrives.
Drying off under the wall heater (Blimey, it was cold this morning!), I dropped the towel twice. The second time I tried to catch it… well, I did, actually. But I knocked endless items off of the floor cabinets in the process… 
The olive oil dropper, Eye drops, Germoloid ointment and 
I avoided using Sock-Glide-Glenda by leaning back into a corner of the room 
.
How disappointing, down-heartening and annoying!
I decided suddenly (I do that sometimes, you know), To go downstairs and wait in the front lobby for the lift to the hospital. Did some 
checks first.
The traffic was bad. When we arrived, they dropped me off first, and the driver put me in a wheelchair, and they both came in with me to ascertain I got to the right place.
On the third floor, the paperwork came out again, and we were told we needed the fourth floor.
It didn’t take him long to fetch him
I was incapable of sorting out anything. I was in a proper state, mentally, and felt this was the end of my beloved blogging days!
and 
!
Came in and got the medications sorted out for me. I insisted on some treat-selecting being done! Bless her! Listened to my tale of the day’s farcicalnesses.
Went to get the nosh sorted out. 
leaflets, booklets and A4 pages of advice and instruction on the cataract pre and post-procedures. 
I woke up and got the nosh served up.
SYS 148, DIA 72, Pulse 82. Not too good, but it’s been 
worse, I suppose. I had a bit of good luck here. I dropped the flipping 
Sphygmomanometer as I was taking out the tubing… and it fell in the waste bucket that had last night s PPs a,d used tissues from the bleed in it; thus, there was no damage; to it, and it still worked perfectly well! 
Richard arrived, not at the promised 06:00hrs, but at 0:730hrs. Not that it mattered, cause the lift had not arrived yet. Richard seemed oblivious to his failings, bless him. As I said, it mattered not after all. Another bit of luck there, the lift being later: Great! Again! Richard sorted the medications, gave him some extra nibbles and plonk cause I thought he was going to come early, and told him of the Diabetes mix-up. Hehehe!
A little loser this time… yet more luck? I resisted going into Smug-Mode for the third time. Did the ablutions while I was in the wet room ablutions. I still found myself going into yet another, all the 
same… 
I settled in the swivel chair with the magnifying glass and the crossword book.
As I sat there waiting, I felt and saw the ankles and legs beginning to visibly swell up, and the ankle ulcers glow and sting when the trousers, or anything, touched or brushed against them. 
Out and through to another waiting area. Minutes later, a chap summoned me into a room, where the lady in charge was sitting, and it was obvious she was in charge! No messing or humour was apparent, needed or accepted from her. She spent some time on the chin machine again and asked more questions. Then, I was commanded to go to the 
I sat down around 1030hrs, thinking how well it went this morning.
into his vehicle. I was pleased to be going home, for some reason. 
noticed the legs were looking a little inflamed and rough, to say the least. ‘Yes!’ “Where’s your biscuits?” ‘The ambulance driver just took them and crushed them in the trolley walk. He’s just collapsed, mate!’ Today, there was a 
shortage of humour, laughter and smiling!
I knocked my elbow on the door frame as I hurriedly got indoors to have a wee-wee. Stubbed my toe and, 
I came out after washing and medicationing, sorted the mess in the hallway, and found a leaflet in the letterbox from Nottingham City Homes.
Going to get some fodder, chips and Veggie-Chilli! Had the last of the pod peas with it – sad, heartbreaking, I may have a sob later. The Flavour rating given was a worthy 8.9/10! Apart from the bread being a smidge stale. 
Carer arrived, and she soon got me sorted out. Thanked her with some strawberries from the fridge and her choice of a can of plonk. She took the waste bags out to the chute with her.
Darned lengthy follow-ups!) Got my head down. And had a decent kip for once. Grrreat!
After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself. 
But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! 
I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.
B
Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).
I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!
The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.
When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the 
The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.
The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.
They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. T
first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). 
Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!
To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!
I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!
I carried out the required, ‘but no one is bothered really’ Health Checks then.
Went to make another mug of tea and took this photographicalisation from the kitchen window.
1410hrs, got the meal cooking, that it needed much preparation.
I woke and thought it was morning. I found out this was at 2200hrs! Foolishly did the Health Checks, but did stop myself in time from taking the morning medications.
To make myself feel worse about my calling the NHS Helpline, the Sys and Dia had gone down a bit now. The pulse had gone up some though.
Things looked okay, apart from the weight I’m afraid.
Oh, just noticed the reminder note on the TV screen.
I halved some of the bitter-tasting Lidl tomatoes and put them in a dish to 
I opened the kitchen window to take this photograph.
Well, I was going to, but the intercom rang out as the Morrison delivery man arrived.
Got the meal ready, it looked super but in fact, it was not good at all.
A sad figure, I washed up and got down to watch some TV. Nowt on, so I watched a DVD I’d been meaning to get to viewing for ages now.
Nipped out on the balcony while the rain had relented a bit, and took this photographicalisation. A free unused car parking space was spotted down below.
I just hope the rain is not too bad, but it looks set in at the moment. Tsk!
Ablutions tended to, I changed into the togs and made sure the brolly and cap were in the bag.
As I wandered along, the rain stopped.
much later to the flat to transfer all the pictures to the computer, this one was not on the SHD card?
As I limped along, whistling to myself and perusing the scenery over the tennis courts, what did I see?
fencing along the road? Fly tipping they call it.
Seconds later, this Nottingham Pavement Cyclist (Git!) nearly had me over then. Tsk!
In the next few hundred yards or so, I got two shots of Nottingham Nurture, and both animals posed and gave me time to take the photographicalisations of them.
No dizzies at all yet, doing well.
Hucknall Road, and called in the GUM Clinic.
Well, that went well and speedily. The Obergruppenfurher receptionist was not in sight when I departed, just as well perhaps.
Thanked her and gave her a bag of nibbles to share with the other girls, and out to see if I would be lucky again and catch a 40 bus just nearby to the clinic.
As I walked down towards Hucknall Road to catch another bus, I kept hearing a right loud double clanging noise?
Even the bus came within seconds of my arriving at the stop? Worrying innit, all this good luck?
And took a picture of the beach and fountains. The rain had kept off, and a few people had ventured onto the beach.
were apparently quite happy to get soaked. Hehe!
Into the room explained things and he had cleaned the hearing aid and given me another thingamajig to take home with me within ten minutes. Thanked him and poddled out of the store, only to have to dodge another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist.
Humph.
enjoyed the hobble around, and the rain still kept off!
Got on the bus at the same time as Horace and his Carer.
Nosh served up. An unfunny few moments followed. I got it all on the plate and had to go for a wee-wee again.
recall musing over a dream I’d been having and must have scribbled this note, I found later.
the time I was getting up, I somehow feared that I’d dreamt about the brain clearing and it had not really done so? Stubbing the toe was almost a pleasure, for it allowed the brain to function and learn things really had cleared-up a lot. Did that make sense?
The view from the window was fantastic this morning.
Did the Health Checks and took the morning medications.
The bus soon filled up when it arrived, the majority of the residents were going down into Sherwood, where they alighted to do their Doctors Visits and shopping.
When we arrived in Arnold, Barry and his wife got off the bus at the same place as I did, at the Sainsbury’s Store.
Got the nosh away. Marinated some baked beans in honey, bbq seasoning and tomato sauce, mustard – afraid I can’t find the sultanas to go in. Huh! Having Frikadellens with these. Chicken & Turkey ones for a change.
Wobbled along to the end of the road and down Winchester Street hill.
Had to stop for few minutes, to cope with Anne Gyna’s severity. By luck, I was near a small Derby stone brick wall and made use of it.
Spotted that yet another shop had closed down in Sherwood.
Over the brow of the hill and down towards the park gates.
Grange Park entrance, it looked extremely sparse of users, kids, prams, dogs and pavement cyclists were all notable by to their absence?
To the top of the footpath and turned right, still not many people around.
or the field below.
spilt white paint over the plants. Sad making!
Hobbling through the knee high growths, trying not to tread on the flowers, I did a Whoopsiedangleplop and tripped over into some bushes!
Got out of the field and down the gravel path to the flats
Back to doing this diary.
The view from the kitchen reminded me of the horrible fire in London for some reason or other?
that’s his name, not Frank (Grump, what a clot I am), if he would tell the others about my not getting to the Social Hour again and why! With a cheeky smile, he said he’d think about it. Hehe!
Turned right at the end of the Walk and down onto Winchester Street Hill.
her name. (Not that it matters cause she is sweet, kind, cuddly and beautiful) for the INR blood test.
She soon took the blood, again it took ages for the vein to stop bleeding, but that was good, it gave me time to have an ogle and gossip with the nurse!
By the time I got to the Methodist Church about half way to Sherwood, I was in great pain, and yet high spirits?
I called into the Children’s Charity Shop for a peruse around, but nothing purchased.
The day suddenly went a bit dark?
Made another cuppa in the new mug. Had a wee-wee.
Got the meal prepared and took the medications, did the Health Checks.
2020hrs: The District Nurse, who had been before (The extra cuddly one with the twinkle in her eyes and