04:55hrs: After an often-broken sleep caused by dear , I still got about 5 hours of sleep in bits, so that wasn’t too bad; I woke most unenthusiastically. I pondered over things as I sat there on the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, not fully aware of things, trying to figure out why I felt like this. I put it down to my having woken up with an activating seizure. My confusion started to clear after a few minutes. But I still felt a little off-kilter, mentally. Voids in my memory, despite believing I had been dreaming, there were no indications of what of. Annoying that, innit? I eventually, gingerly rose from the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, creaking, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and caught my balance. I took off the Nocturnal Catheter pouch to free myself to start the short mini-exercises… Well, that was the plan.
Within seconds of starting the stretching, I was on the floor, with a decent bruise on the forehead gained on my way down to the carpet. I still have no idea where or what I hit my head against. It all seemed to occur so quickly. Getting back up was as easy as it could have been, with me landing next to the recliner. Obviously, it was painful clawing my massive, flabby body back up into the recliner. Sensing that this was much more painful than usual, I considered pressing the Help Line Alarm. As my head cleared again, there was no blood at all coming from the wound, just hardly seeable scratch and bruise. I went into my Sherlockian Mode and realised why it hurt me so much, and I found the cause of the original tumble! Yes!
Had given way. I feel sure! After a few moments. The head bump was painless and only was hurting… until a minute later, when Took over as the ‘Head Ailment’. Confusion Konrad remained. And I’m not sure all this is in order of happening now. I forgot all about doing the balance routine after that.
I’m not sure why, but I thought a mug of tea would be a good idea or of any benefit. But I made one and adjusted the old-fashioned clock-calendar. I nipped to photograph the morning view from the kitchenette window. Misty and cold out there again. This snap came out all right. But I thought when taking it I saw a planet, albeit a tiny one, on the top left. No signs of it?
Carer Selina arrived. She noticed the bruise on my head. I made her laugh, telling her how it happened. Haha!
Back to my blogging. In ten minutes, I had five short visits . Then, nothing for an hour or so. And back she came, I had to give up, for fear of making so many mistakes that I didn’t realise then and losing hours of precious time to correct them. Humph!
I got pm Word to write the day’s Ode.
Came back on again. I had to give up again. I will sit down and wait it out, hoping it will not be another long one. They seem to tire me out.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Shasha is one of Tim Price’s
Colony of Cats. Bootiful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Made a meal and settled the football game.
There were two FA Cup matches to watch, and I did not move out of the recliner for hours and hours. I took this in a break between games. The first one was Plymouth Argyle beating Liverpool!
Made the nosh and settled down to see the second match. Aston Villa v Tottenham Hotspurs.
Then I realised that Quatermass & The Pit film was showing on the same channel after the footy. 1967 FILM NOIR They don’t make them like this anymore!. From 1953 to 1967, They made three Quatermass treats. The first one was made for a TV series. But, 40% of the original tapes have since been lost by the BBC. There are DVDs, but they have a lot of missing action. But I loved them them all. The TV one was poorly scripted, badly acted, and as for ‘Rocket Ship’ landing in the house’s bedroom, without destroying it… well, it was part of the fun and mystery. This was given the title, The Quatermass Experiment. The film concerns three astronauts launched into space aboard a single-stage-to-orbit rocket designed by Professor Quatermass. A TV series. Then (1953) QUATERMASS II film. Strange metallic meteorites rain down over Winnerden Flats, an eerie new town near a strongly guarded chemical plant. Professor Quatermass discovers that contact with the meteorites causes an unusual infection. He is also astonished that the chemical plant is modelled after his design for a moonbase, where life can thrive in an artificial atmosphere. Investigations uncover a conspiracy that extends from the Government level to the zombie-like workers who will stop at nothing to protect the plant. Quatermass deduces that aliens from one of the moons of Saturn travel to Earth in the meteorites, possess human minds, and share knowledge through a collective consciousness. I loved it! Especially with Sid James getting killed in the pub on Winnerton Flats. Ah, Memories!
. The last photo was taken as I looked around to ensure I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have. All looks good!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m off to bed now!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got about four hours’ worth of Kip! Great!
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Grim: Ayeup, Inchy! Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me! Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy! Inchy: Wot? Grim: Yer always greet me affably, Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family! Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see? Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy, my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND, Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily, Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly! Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day! Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, At making friends, I lost the ability… Being flat-bound, & many a disability, Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me, Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny… Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie… So, despite everything, I feel lucky, I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery… Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity! When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me! Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony! Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly… Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly… Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly, Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity? Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery, Cephalometry, specifically craniometry, I go willingly and happily… Grim: Why happily & willingly? Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready, Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness, despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious, How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness? Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening, Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating… Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating! Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating, one event watery, the next constipating… Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting… Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking! Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing, The stove blew up, so; no cooking, The intercom broke, so there was no communication… Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in, Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing, Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching! When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming… Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting, While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing, Someone may also be texting or emailing… Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing! The Catheter bag slowly filling… Back to the flat for emptying, Usually when the delivery will be arriving! Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying, And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding! Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating, Then my grip on things starts deteriorating, Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting, Dementia & PN, I start chastising, The computer requires defragging, But how to, I’m not remembering, Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling, The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating… My mind turns to food and eating, The bread is wet from the bottles bursting, Soaked with a shandy flavouring, Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning, Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting! And you wonder why I don’t mind dying? Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.
I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.
I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once. The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?
I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so, had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.
So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.
I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.
Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.
I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).
Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.
I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.
I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.
Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.
New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,
An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed myrent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me. At the bottom, I found this: ‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’! I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!
I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!
I went to get the meal cooked. I had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?
Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!
MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW! What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no! Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!
Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HELP FOR ALL! – – – There’s usually a thought worth thinking… Until a problem arrives, more demanding, Though factors currently depending… On seriousness, practicality & spending, Earlier plans may need synchronising, The original idea may need some tweaking… Options left available may leave you seething, Chances of success may be receding? Can you see where this ode is leading? Your intentions may be beyond solving, But you’ve got me sympathising, You must be realising… I do not want to be scaremongering, Needs, desires, once so promising, Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising, If possible, they need reorganising, These failures will be nauseating, Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening, No need for any self-admonishing… Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing… We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing, I’m pretty good at motivating… You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻
Then things started to get farcical! The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working. JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery. I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time! The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed. This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows! Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘
Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!
Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.
Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card. I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour. If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in an unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!
The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?
The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.
Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.
I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.
Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting. A wide shot, the top one. Pretty really! I zoomed in to get a close-up. Strangely, this one came out alright, too.
The next job was to get something to eat. Which I did. Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault! I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!
Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SO FAR THIS YEAR… A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost!
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly! The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular! I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems. Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent. Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups. Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time? Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. Can’t get any help! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I am struggling all around, losing ground… Things going wrong… others compound, Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned… The end is high; I’ll be bound! I’m sick of being flatbound. The sanity I once foreowned… Has departed, and I’m all alone, With help, my confusion to unconfound… For solutions to confusion, I toss around, But my brain is now thought-barren ground, Ever more problems to confound… Will I take them with me to my burial ground? Frustrations are just grinding me down! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – KEEP SAFE, FOLKS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Humankind, the epitome of entanglement, Each human individually so different, Some are passive, some violent, some truculent… Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant, Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent! : : : : : The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent, The poor, without clean water, living in a tent, The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant, The lying greedy shower in Parliament, Those mentally challenged & obmutescent! : : : : : The law-abiders, who are so obedient, Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent… No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent, The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent… The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant! : : : : : The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance, The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment… Stewing inside with injustice & resentment, Outwardly displaying mock-contentment, Their hopes & desires are only ruminant! : : : : : The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant, They forget things, making them more inconscient, Those without catheters may become incontinent, Their life’s meaning turns intervenient, Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent! : : : : : The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient! Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment, Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent, I can no longer afford to get myself temulent, Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment! : : : : : I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt… What chance of my body and brain’s renascence? I often go off track, lose the plot and scent… Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent… For years, my body has been going putrescent, Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment, I’ll leave this Ode as my testament! : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in! 04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe! I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!
I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them. I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha! When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes! After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. ! I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream onand feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!
I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.
Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added. Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.
I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?
Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART 214⅔ – – – My confidence in politicians is gone forevermore,
It’s been fading, but now we have Starmer…
I don’t want to be an alarmer…
But the animal is a liar and a falsifier,
Prime Minister? More lie a financier,
A get-rich-quick dictator, a Führer,
I hope he soon starts to flounder…
His dodgy use of his filibuster,
Attacking now the fox-hunter,
After robbing money from each pensioner,
And financially crippling each farmer,
Next election, we’ll have no agriculture!
What next from this fiddling fraudster?
This untouchable political freebooter?
What is next on his agenda & addenda?
Expect anything from this tax-imposing liar,
: : : : :
As for his pensioner’s fuel-payment abduction,
That was his most significant, cruellest abomination!
No sign of the Railway’s renationalisation?
The only things that he shows any affection…
Seems to be backhanders, port & bourbon,
His ego seems to flourish and bourgeon…
Increasing taxes, with contradistinction,
WASPI campaign, Starmer tapped into the emotion,
“Said he’d help them get compensation”, more aversion,
HMG denied 3.6 million women’s discrimination! He said they would cut energy bills to £300 immediately,
Set up GB Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company,
1st Jan; the EPC came into effect, bills rose, alarmingly,
More Starmer lies proven, Ministerial batrachomyomachy!
Labour promises are fake and disobligatory,
Starmer’s killing off the Labour Party… magnificently!
: : : : :
Starmer has all of the required political armamentaria,
To be the most successful Labour Party annihilator,
He’s moraless, and a clever cunning misleader,
An effective commoner, worker & proletariat bleeder,
He seemingly believes his own counterpropaganda,
Lies freely, takes backhanders without any forfeiture,
Installs a lack of faith & hope in each Labour voter,
He’s ridden with greed, self-wealth & pleonexia,
He’ll falsify, confuse, cleverly pretends to palter…
I’d like to see him go on a psychogalvanometer,
He has arrogance, deceit by the plethora,
A verbal illusionist, an indirect trickster,
This completes today’s Ode to Starmer!
: : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – DONE WELL THIS WEEK! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve been counting Starmer’s lies, worse than I thought – He simply won’t stop! All politicians are economical with the truth. Sir Keir Starmer has lifted lying to a new level. And he doesn’t even hide it. If there’s an art to lying, the PM hasn’t bothered to master it. He lies and lies again, and there’s no art in it at all. He just says whatever suits him at the time. Broken promises, u-turns and pledges, and it’s exhausting. I’d quickly run out of space if I tried listing them all here. He started by lying to his own party, winning support for the Labour leadership with 10 key pledges, including abolishing student tuition fees and the two-child benefit cap and nationalising public services. All quickly dropped. Having secured the support of the Corbynite left, he stepped up his efforts by lying to the rest of us to win this year’s general election. Starmer led us to believe Labour would retain the Winter Fuel Payment and said nothing about scrapping the £86,000 cap on social care costs for elderly or tax-targeting farmers! There are further proven 162 lies recorded that I can use later. Undoubtedly, he will have added to the total by the time I get around to using his current lies and deceitful statements. Bless the unscrupled git! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:00hrs: After one hour of sleep, I bolted awake, coughing away, jerking my neck and head to my right. I’ve never had a more extended Ted session before. I was close to pressing the alarm-alert wristlet. I was getting a little unnerved by the Twitching. But within 5 minutes, the chesty coughing died down, and ten minutes later, calmed down. Phew! He didn’t just stop as he usually would; this session was a gradual slowing down of the rate of twitches until it stopped. I removed the grade 7 on the NHS chart urine catheter pouch from the day pouch. I realised the weekly Friday changing of the catheter day bag had not been done this week! No wonder I’m suffering with pain from the tubing in poor Little Inchy! But it’s partly my fault; I’ve had unfamiliar Carers calling this weekend due to the shortage of regular carers with illnesses. I should have reminded them. Later, I even forgot to ask Carer Shaquille to do it. Tsk!
I suspected things may be different today when the innard’s warning to get to the wet rooom Porcelain Throne was interspersed with violent belching and noisy escapages of wind from my rear end. I was right!It took me a lot of pain, effort and time to force the one massive, gigantic, solid submarine to even start evacuating. I can’t remember any events of this nature where it took me so long to achieve the required bowel movement. Amazingly, there was less bleeding than yesterday, but the escaping product was half as large again compared to Saturday’s torpedo. It was so much so that I added water, waiting for the cistern to refill 3-times from the tap to encourage and unclog the monster on its journey to the sewer below!
I took some early morning shots of the view from the kitchenette window. Both have the ‘blotch’ partially hidden. Again, there was a green hue in the sky. I took both shots slightly higher than usual, so the darkest bits masked the blotches. Haha!
I got the computer going and started updating the Saturday blog. First, I needed to use CorelDraw. After doing so, I had the first run of since yesterday’s teatime. They were all short ones, but this made them more easily recognisable. So I decided it would be better to go and make a brew of Glengettie. Gave way on me as I went through the kitchen door. Banging my knee against the cabinet corner triggered a reaction , and both ailments got a good dose of Phorpain gel, and I took a Codiene to be on the safe side. When any cartilage and Arthur Itis get a clouting at the same time on the same leg, well, it does hurt a bit. Haha! Of course, this didn’t bother a fit young man of my granite-like pain-bearing qualities.
The tea had gone cold, so I made another one. Making sure I drank it while it was hot enough! As I took this photo, I realised I had not yet changed my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. So I changed the day & date on my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. Then, I discovered that I’d made I’d been dating all the graphics with the wrong date and had saved some as the 1st and others as the 2nd to different files! It later cost me hours to find and move them where I wanted them. Obviously, I did not swear, curse, spit, thump the wall, growl, wail or get angry or depressed over this at all.
Carer Shaquille arrived. Changed my socks, medicated me, and we had a short natter & laugh.
I was working on the ode, and revisited me. Boy, was this bad. I had to give up, but I did some work on the Liar Starmer insult content. My hatred for him still came through!
Carer Kimberly did the next call. Which helped me come back from the brink of unconsciousness. I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I was up for the previous few hours before her arrival. We spoke about the dentist and nurse’s visits and the Q&A form for HMG that I need to fill in next Wednesday. Kimberly will go through it with me.
As the seizures eased off, took over as the primary ailment in action. The occasional coughing and sneezing, presumably from the Novovirus.
The sunshine was trying to come out late this afternoon. I used the loan camera from Jenny for this one to avoid blotches. It came out okay?
Another emptying of the catheter day pouch. I must remember to ask a Carer to change the day bag. How I keep forgetting beats me. Mind you, so does the cotton wool, which looks floating in the urine. Might the cause of the feedback pains be the pouch not being replaced and the cotton stuff blocking the exit tube? I must remember! The regular Carers usually remind me about this on Fridays. But so many are off work poorly. I felt guilty; had I passed my virus?
I was desperately trying to get to sleep. Amazing… I nodded of at long last after days without sleep!
Carer Victor arrived and woke me up!
I struggled again to get back to sleep for about four hours.
Blessedly, I nodded off again. Carer Richard arrived and woke me up!
After this awakening, I could not get back to sleep. I gave up the idea at 01:30hrs and got my ablutions tended to.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My ponderings are, at times, encyclopaedic, Though they rarely show any signs of being gnostic, Mostly, dizzy, ditzy, sceptic, and simplistic, You could say they’re Starmeristic? Though at birth, they can seem astronomic, In reality, they can be catastrophic… Regularly scatterbrained and nonspecific, They come and go like an epidemic, They all possess a degree of the unspecific, Mingled with thoughts, though microscopic, Seeming to others sort of verbally monolithic, With humour, fear, desires and the hyperbolic, Often resulting in being self-homiletic, Common sensical, yet psychedelic, Like life, ponders can be oneiric, But pondering is not all that terrific! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – VERY PLEASED WITH THIS WEEKS RETURNS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up the ghost of sleeping. I took off the nocturnal night pouch and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk! First, there is a chronically badly taken view from the kitchen window. Which is nothing like the view my eyes saw. One of my worst efforts! Followed by a wider shot, which produced an almost as bad a reproduction as the first disastrous effort. This lone camera will have to be studied. I can’t see the small print on the instructions nor determine the option buttons. I tried again an hour later and got this effort on the right, using the other camera. Better?
I’d been up late, so there was not a lot of catching up to do on yesterday’s blog. I titivated it and posted it to WP.
I felt terribly cold this morning, but my flu symptoms were no worse. My throat seemed easier than it had been yesterday.
Then, the morning summoning from the innards sent me scurrying off to the wet room for the daily Porcelain Throne evacuation. . Soft as things were that evacuated this morning, there was a worrying amount of pain & blood (not too much; it was Harold’s Haemmorhoids) that came with it.
I had a slow, steady washing and a painful medicationalisation session. Little Inchies Fungal lesion and, more rarely, Harold’s Haemmorhoids gave me the most hassle. The piles were bleeding far more than they usually do, but not too painful with it. It was stopping the flow that took the most time. After finishing and getting dressed, I returned to the computer. After about an hour or so, the sneezing started to kick off, but the throat was much more manageable. As usual, there were a few specs of blood from the nose. Blowing the nose, I realised how the tissue was getting cut up. I’d not had a shave! I shall go shaveless. And try not to shave at all. See how it goes, as Tim Price put it, ‘Going Caveman Style.’
Unknown Carer arrived at 09:45hrs. I worked on the daily ode. Carer Suen arrived at 11:15hrs. It was too short a break between calls for any painkillers to be issued.
Having done a bad job of this morning, Jenny loaned the camera. I tried the old Kodak Tim camera, hoping that by some miracle, the blotch on the photos would not show up this time.
Oh, dear, that didn’t work either. The blotch is more prominent than ever now. Shame. I put the lens cleaner on it, went over it with the soft cloth and spray, and tried again. Did my bestestest.
I’ll make some nosh then.
Very nice it was too! Chinese belly pork (very fatty, naughty… but nice!) & baked potatoes with No-butter butter and a blob of BBQ sauce.
Washed the pots and sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch two episodes of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’.
AT LONG LAST… I fell asleep, Oh, the sheer Bliss! Five minutes later, Carer Precious arrived. Could I get back to sleep after? No!
Carer Precious did the last call and took off the diabetic socks. Meds were issued, and he fitted the catheter night pouch.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – In my dream, were things terrestrial, Thoughts, hopes, desires, nothing bestial, Treaties, warrants, insurances, so torchable,
Guilty, Oligarchs, politically, & legally untouchable,
Due to our lawmakers being so quickly bribable,
MPs values, honesty, reliability at best theoretical,
How have they solved the Bermuda Triangle?
The mystery seems to be uncrackable,
No-hours contracted workers, legally sackable,
Farmers, pensioners, HMG find robbable,
MPs expenses no longer seem checkable?
Proven dishonest leaders are impeachable?
Guilty murderers are so quickly freeable?
Ministers are unpalatable, unpardonable…
Them lining their pockets seems unstoppable,
Morals & standards are sacrificeable,
Decency & compassion are no longer salvageable,
Despotical bigotry, actions detestable…
Wars, violence, greed everywhere detectable,
Can we trust anything electoral?
Politicians are doubtable, dishonourable,
Do they need help, exorcistical?
They are unceasing with their flummadiddle,
They’ll always seek a way to fiddle!
They are the reason the world’s in such a pickle!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon. Last night, none of the others made it to the SD card, but this one did! (Or did it?). I half expected it not to go on. I spent ages trying to get the card recognised, and when I eventually got to it, this photo was there! There is a chance it may be an old one, of course. So, I took another picture straight away… that did not go on. The second, third, and fourth ones didn’t make it either. Now I’m doubting what I actually had for the meal. With the others not going on, I think it is likely that I made a mistake somewhere along the line. My new excitement at thinking the camera had miraculously started working again was replaced with a new low – mostly at my stupidity in thinking this was from last night. Humph! Confusionableitis Reigned. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Once again, the night’s rest was well-broken. However, I soon nodded off after each awakening, back into the bliss of sleep. I had several dreams, but my memories are too vague to guess at their topics. When I shot awake at 7:00 a.m. and realised it was so late, I also realised that I must have skipped at least six hours. So that was good. Then the run started. I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and started standing up using . Within seconds I was clunking back down into c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Unsure if , or hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!
I cleaned up and medicated the lower regions first. Then the areas, then the rear end. Then, the Phorpaining of both Cartilage Chloe and Carole’s cartilages moved onto knees. Olive-oiled the ears, applied, and Creosoted the Ankle Ulcer. I’ve named it Creosoted because it reminds me of it when I painted it on. Haha! Then, I decided to get the showering and shaving done. I had to get a long shirt and fresh dressing gown sorted first. I’d run out of clean shirts! These can’t be washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that. This, of course, got me all confused. I ended up washing another shirt in the sink. Hanging it up to dry over the sink… but the shirt was too long. I went into Sherlockian Mode to work out what I could do? Finally, deciding to hang it on the shower rail with a bowl underneath to catch the water. I very nearly adopted a . I went back to the wet room and hung them up. Of course, now I couldn’t get in the shower. So I pressed on with having a shave. As I’d got the foam on, I dropped the can. I held onto the seek carefully as I bent to pick it back up – naturally, the foam was on the sink, and my hand slipped! . I hit the top of my head on the Porcelain. Carried on with the shaving and noticed a trickle of blood coming from the top of my head in the mirror. As I went to grab the aftershave, I knocked the long shirt off of the rail… it fell into the water below… I swore rather vociferously, as I recall. I retrieved the shirt and rehung it, all freshly rewetted. Huh! The blood had by now left a pretty pattern down the side of my head, over my chin, and onto my man breasts & chest. I used paper towels to clean it. Using a lot of aftershave to stem the flow. Back to finishing the shaving… The shaving was completed within a minute or two. By this time, a similar pretty pattern of the leaking blood had reappeared.
Off to the medical chest to get a plaster cleaned after shaving the tiny little wound and applying a plaster. Then I wrote on the memory pad, which enabled me to write this rubbish in detail later. I had to sort out the mess in the kitchen from earlier, the wet room, and the shirts. What did I do? I decided the most crucial task was to make a brew of tea, which I did! However, I didn’t get to drink it. Carer Chloe arrived at 08:50 hrs on her first visit.
She pointed out that I had blood running from my head—haha! She wiped it and put a plaster on it while I bore her with tales of my calamities of the day. She then issued the medications and put on the diabetic socks. She also took the laundry with her, including two long shirts. That was kind of her. She was due back later on a domestic call.
As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened! This evacuation was the messiest ever! Well, not counting the involuntary one when I had the stroke, of course). Gooey in the extreme! An entire toilet roll standard! Stinky! .
I’m no longer as confident of events as I was earlier. Things got foggier when Carer Chloe returned. She’d kindly returned the washing all done apart from the long-shirts. They could not be used in a hot drier, and the ones in the laundry room do not have that facility. So, she hung them back up on the shower rails again. All that help is back at square one. Hehe! How can people talk about being bored in old age? If, as I have, one becomes accustomed to Accifauxpas, Whoopdiedangleplops & evil luck, it certainly avoids any chance of boredom setting in. Just a point, but I’d rather like time to get some being bored in! Not too much! I just want to see what it is all about. Of course, I have the benefits of Cogniscent Impairment Iris, FND, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, & Seizure Sandra’s attentions. Is having all four of these ailments probably better than having just one? I’m not confident or sure of how I worked that out now. But it seemed apparent & logical to me at the time.
Chloe checked on the dates of the food. I asked her to take some short-dated items for others to use. She washed the main kitchen windows for me and quickly wiped the floor.
Tomorrow, I think, is a finance visit. Maryham, I guess.
Carer Sam called. We had a precious laugh.
Pressed on with the blog. But such a late start. I’m miles behind with things yet.
It’s now mid-afternoon. Not a single seizure from Sandra has not reported a single seizure. However, I’m sure the mini-ones have been missed in the past.
17:20hrs: Carer Rachel did the teatime call.
I gave up on this blog and went on WP Reader & Comments.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’s ODE When an ankle-snapper, my questions got cupboarded, Always complicated; the house was candlelighted, We had gas: non-payment meant this was sequestered, Things didn’t bother me then; life was uncomplicated, Even when Mother ran away to avoid being arrested, To head cook, washer and cleaner, I superseded, Dad got me part-time jobs – as if they were needed! On weekday mornings, I made sure Dad was breakfasted, Then rush to school to be bullied & headbutted, From school to do the paper round hurried, Back home to get Dad’s meal, the fire prepared, Happy days… to me, this felt normalised, Of course, not knowing when I get octogenarianised, That I’d physically & mentally get disableised, Or be flat-bound, high in a High Rise, Or the Pensioner’s fuel allowance would be shanghaied! Or the end of the world would be visualised, Nor would I consider getting myself schnockered. Or stuffed with Morphine & Beta-Blockered, The line above would not have been included, If Starmer & Dementia hadn’t obtruded!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sunday morning: I stirred, for the first morning for five days on the trot… without the grating cough greeting me. Boy, this was a good moment. Finally, the ‘bug’ was weakening and letting me know this. No adoption of any . Too cautious for that.
I’d just had a night’s sleep of over six hours duration, and it was grand! I removed the nocturnal night pouch and sat there pondering and getting myself uptight at the many things I could not rectify. The Banking details, the medication shortages, etc.
When joined in, I heard, or thought I heard an alarm of some sort. I went on the hunt to try and find what it was that had sounded. The Alert Alarm? No! The Intercom? No! The Water Tap Leak alarm? No! A Text Message? No! The electricity panel showed no lights. Ah, was it the door chime? Nope! This made me think it may have been the Foyer Intercom, so I looked out the door, and nothing was there. Had I ing that I’d forgotten about?
It’s time to turn on the computer and take a look. There was nothing on it for today. I did note that I’d put the Iceland order on the wrong day for next week. I corrected it (I hope) after going to Iceland to confirm the difference first.
Carer Selina came in without ringing the buzzer, fritted me as she stood behind me, and greeted me with a cheery face. Hahaha!
She confirmed the colour grading on the NHS chart as a 7, but I put it down as a five in the Excel graphic for some reason. Then she got a pair of diabetic socks fitted, and I asked her if she’d seen my laundry anywhere. It had been three days. She skipped down to take a look and returned with the laundry bag. Bless her. She issued the medications and had to rush off.
When I put the things away, I found smears of fluff growing from the laundry room floor over the dressing. It’s not unusual. All the socks were there this time, and there were no extras, unlike when I had gained a bra and a pair of ladies’ knickers.
I got onto WordPress to start on this blog. And what a disaster the first two paragraphs were! I could barely understand what it was I’d been trying to say! Ultimately, I gave up and deleted it, starting from scratch.
Carer Simon arrived for the midday slot. I took the opportunity to mention the laundry. The problem was finding out where my bank passwords were. I pointed out that I was not complaining; I just wanted to know they were in hand. I also explained the medication shortages in detail. Simon said he’d try to find out for me on Monday and look into the medications’ situation to try and get me some clarity. Thank you.
Back to WordPressing. I replied to the comments of my hoard of followers. All three are friendly people. Then I went on the Blog Reader viewing.
Carer Richard made the last call. I was having my very first long seizure of the day at the time. Nothing to report from a blank, vague memory. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Somethings coming… I know not what… The Grim Reaper with his chariot? What will be lost, found, mistaken or misbegot? May I choke on medications or chocolate? My Glaucoma op arrived? That’d be a shock, Mayhap never another seizure or mental block? A Bhagat just may be begat or wot? Politicians may do things without a subplot? No, that’s asking too much, what? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – We waited so long for a Labour HMG saviour, What do we end up with? Dishonest Starmer, He amassed himself £102,000, by gift & freebie, Gets caught out as a cheat & and a by omission liar, Then, the git decided to rob every pensioner,
Moves on to tax increases for every farmer, Before was Blair New Labour, Thatcher, the warer, Both had faults, but neither were poorer… Then Starmer, the Labour beancounter, Here’s my chance to be a bit of an auger, He’ll end up being a greater disaster…
Pensioners eat or heat on bread & butter…
Keir, the bystander, babbler, baffler, bamboozler, The future has never looked dimmer… He’s allowed a 50% rise in the cost of a Zimmer! I wonder what they gifted him for a backhander? But what options are there for the elector? Conservatives, no, Rishi was their suicider, What would be phantasmagorical… Is it possible for him to read this little Ode… oracle? Will he get the message? He is pretty academical,
Unfortunately, he’s also ungainsayable,
A stream of compassion is easily wadable.
Not to take it is cruel and wackadoodle.
More complex for him is the path to turning veridical,
Is his urge for backhanders & lying unrestrainable?
His actions, to date, have been totally unmollifiable,
For a Labour leader, it is astounding and indefensible.
Anything he says now, after so many lies, is unbelievable, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – During the election, Labour promised they would cut energy bills for good. Labour announced proposals to “set up Great British Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company”, and in the run-up to the election, prominent Labour politicians claimed that this would cut bills by up to £300 a year. What has happened: On January 1, the latest Energy Price Cap came into effect; this is the second time energy bills have risen despite an explicit promise by the government to cut energy bills – another broken promise for which we are now paying very dearly for the price raise!
What has happened: Recently released figures show the number of small boat arrivals has increased since Labour came to power. Between July 5 and December 31 2024, there were 35,242 arrivals by small boat, 33.4% more than in 2023.
Keir Starmer told the country they could trust Labour’spromises not to raise taxes and not to unleash a borrowing spree. In the House of Commons on October 9 this year, he said, ‘’e made an absolute commitment not to raise taxes on working people. Rachel Reeves said a rise in National Insurance was a tax purely on working people. What actually happened: Labour have done just that and more. They fiddled with the fiscal rules, increased borrowing by billions of pounds, and raised taxes on businesses – which they have now admitted will leave working people worse off. The Office of Budget Responsibility said an increase in employer National Insurance will be passed onto workers.
Keir Starmer, Steve Reed, and the Labour Party told farmers that Labour respects them, protects their livelihoods, and promises not to change agricultural property relief for farmers. The CLA conference was reported in the FT on December 23. What actually happened? In the 2024 Autumn Budget, Labour broke its promise to farmers by reducing the relief and imposing inheritance tax rates on farmland. This will devastate family farms and seriously threaten domestic food security and prices.
Amongst LaLabour’sudget of broken promises, Labour has made the political choice to target family farms, and the consequences will be felt by thousands of farms and families across the country. In Yuan YaYang’s election campaign in July 2024 – she said she wanted to help people with fuel bills and keep homes warm with an insulation plan. What happened: On September 10, 86 days after the election, Yuan Yang, our MP, voted to scrap the pensioner’s winter fuel allowance with Starmer’support. Pensioners expected help with heating costs; they didn’t expect the removal of their winter fuel allowance. Yuan Yang, Starmer and Labour taking money from the vulnerable again! But let’s try to be fair to the pensioner-robber & killer, He may have a mental issue with which he’s not acquainted. Oligarchishness, backhander-addiction, or distempered? Cognisance Impairment makes your brain shackled, Getting caught lying may have been upsetting? A mental illness? I’I’veot 3, most maddening, He constantly shows a poker face… emotionless. I’d like to help him: my mate’s an acupuncturist? He walks with a limp, so may he have gout? He never listens to advice. Does he need an audiologist? Is he demon-possessed, in need of a psychiatrist? To help him to keep his promises & guarantees, That psychiatrist failed; he needs to be ditched! MPs sit away from Keir in Parliament; have you noticed? This was advised to them by StStarmer’sastrologist, Bet he has a neurologist, & a neuroradiologist, I manage with my GP, last seen on October 5, I’ll see her again before I die; I’m an optimist… Although I may be a little over-ambitious, It’s bout 10 weeks to see my Neurosurgeons, Have I enough to backhand them… To make Doreen Dementa scram? Just in case you read this, Starmer… And I die under the knife and hammer… I’m no liar, and I can assure you, Starmer… I’I’lle your spiritual habituér, I’I’llring a bottle of the black death… To sneeze & spill all over you! So please don’t die before you are due… I want my revenge; it’ll be long overdue! Did I mention my hatred for Starmer? ThThis’sy pirlicue. I FANK YOU! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TERRIBLE NIGHT – CONFUSING MORNING – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night. It has to stop!
Be it Influenza, Norovirus or Stomach Flu, it ain’t nice. I’ve been lucky not to get colds and flu. I’ve had all three jabs. But it’s obviously got me this time. A buildup of phlegm and mucus in the throat and chest. Aches and pains in all my joints. And after several years without as much as a single headache. I’I’vead a cracker for three days now with no relenting. Nausea and talk about stomach rumblings and grumblings… although, to be fair, they are not unusual for me. At least, and last, the altering alternating evacuation modes have all been under Trotsky TeTerence’sontrol since I copped this bug. Constipation Conrad can’t get a look in. Hehe! So, on the bright side, HaHarold’s haemorrhoids are not bleeding anywhere near as badly as they were. I’d like to think the same about Little Inchie Fungal lesion, but the Cather tube is giving me pain more than ever now. I must bend down to release the catheter day bag clip and empty it every time. Then, of course, today, the right testicle is growing again for some reason. It might be on its way to matching last year’s spanish-onion-sized. Tender!
Then there’s Pensioner-Killer-Starmer. How the hell has he not been dethroned, prosecuted or assassinated? Even the Tories said they would keep the winter fuel aid. And they did! Then came Backhander-taking Keir Starmer, the hater of every voter, proletariat, street sleeper, worker, Farmer and Pensioner. He is enough to make any mortal sick.
Anyway, I’d been lying on the bed for six hours, praying to get to sleep. But no! So I got out of bed and into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. I still thought I might yet get some sleep. But No! I was aching all over, inside and out. The blood from the throat, blow my nose, blood on the tissue. Only specs of it, mind you. Then, the odd sneezing bouts started. Now, these were scary. I was still not feeling tired. Worn out, yes!
Grindingly slowly, time moved on. I sat there, with the coughs, sneezes, and painful pouch emptying keeping me company.
Had I not been so weary, I’I’dave gone to get the ablutions done. I thought about it a few times, but my body disagreed. Suddenly, I realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky. Back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, HarHarold’semorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I think I felt a bit sorry for at this time. I had a few rapid . Which threw me off kilter. It was now gone eight o’clock and a Carer been, and I was in a seizure and couldn’t member the visit? I then remembered the surgery ringing me with the new Warfarin dosages last night. So, I wrote them out from the notepad and put them in the CarCarer’sg cover. I checked to see if anyone had filled it in the log. But, no! I settled back down in the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. The aches and pains, not the usual ones, the neck, chest, stomach, & joints got worse. as I sat there awaiting the Carer to call. I anticipated they may be late, but having three staff off poorly makes getting cover from other sites difficult. I added some juice to two bottles of spring water and started gulping it down. I was slowly coming out of the seizure… Or so I thought. But you know how lucky I am. Huh! I put the TV on, hoping it may help me to nod off. But no!
At about 10:00 hrs, there was no Caregiver, so I forced myself to use the computer. Not that my mind was ready or willing to use it. And headaches, especially behind my eyes, returned.
At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the post Haste! So, I did! Trotsky Terence was still in command, but the colour had changed. It had a distinctive metallic whiff or pong that accompanied the evacuation procedure. And it lingered. I used the fresh air spray.
I returned to the computer; I could not concentrate as I had anticipated. However, I did add a few decent lines to the start of today’s Ode.
At about 10 minutes to 12, Carer Sam arrived. She checked the taps on leaving. The morning carer had not arrived. I made no fuss about it.
I then returned to the computer and surprisingly began to get along well with the Odeing. It was long, and I had to verify everything I mentioned about the murderer ‘He’r Starmer’!
Was joined by , stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. On the bright side, I think the phlegm and sore throat were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, it made me eat my thoughts and words, and she took over as my Master-Pain-Mangler for the rest of the day, well, evening. This got me concerned over the lack of medication available for easing . I’ve mentioned the problem to every Carer since I found out a few days ago. But no one is advising me or informing me. I dipped into a self-centred depression and decided to see if I could try to get some sleep-catching up done. I got down into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, ‘n the TV and eat the meal.
Carer Simon called a little earlier than usual, but he had been drafted in again from his own place of work. I mentioned the shortages of my Angina medications again. I felt sorry for the Carers. With three off work, it’s no wonder they don’t have time to advise or help me. However, putting the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV on was frustrating. Still, I got there in the end… and within a minute, had nodded off into La-La land, and it was great, lovely; after three nights of sleeplessness, minutes later, the water alarm sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!
Sugar & Surreptitious Sodnesses! I was attacked by two of my beloved ailments at the same instant. (again) & . That was the end of my memories of the night.
I do recall ordering some cough medicine.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day. Who am I kidding?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Now I am worried. When I checked this blog, I found 157 errors! I have no doubt I missed some. My eyesight is blurry. How the hell did I do so many things wrong? It might have been unrecognised mini-seizures. It’s not boding well!
