– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – FRIDAY 9TH AUGUST 2024 After many false starts, lack of interest, and repeatedly nodding off again, I felt the motion in the innards. Rumbling with the odd, almost sloshing sensation at times that threatened the return of Trotsky Terence’s return. But not yet of an urgent nature, more a pre-warning, methinks. As I was taking this snap of the removed from the catheter nocturnal pouch and saw the terribly deep colour, the need for the Porcelain Throne became more intense. In my haste to ensure I got to the WC on time, I had a couple of Accifauxpas en route. The first was my treading on the electricity cable and catching my ingrowing toenail on it; a quick curse worse was let out, then I dropped the walking stick, and finally (I thought), I shoulder charged the door edge as I clambered in my haste to get into the wet room. No messing, I lifted the gown, downed the protection pants and got seated on the plastic WC lid!
The motion of the evacuation was much slower than I’d anticipated; however, there was no boredom, counting cracks in the ceiling or crosswording this morning.
After a night without, as far as I recall, any electric shocks up the leg from the ankle lesion, the moment I tried to urge the motion to start sent a couple of disorientating streaks of lighting up the leg. I’ve never suffered two in a row before. She carried on throughout the day, giving me the odd one now and then, but no more doubles. That double was really painful!
Then, the motion splurted out. was back in full control, no doubt about it. However, the Kharki colour that he had favoured for a fortnight now was again on show. It was straw-like in appearance. I checked the time and decided I could get the ablutions done before a Carer was due. So I did… ABLUTIONALISATIONINGS
Teeth cleaning and shaving are the first jobs. Careful as I was, the gums bled. Just two little nicks shaving, But at one stage, I had give me another single-strike visit. This caused , to give way.
Luckily, I was rinsing and not shaving at the time.
I was fortunate there.
The Showering Session went well, too. The lower region cleaning was a smidge painful, though, with all the dried blood from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and the tugging of the Catheter tube. Next, to the various medicating duties. I olive-oiled the earholes. Then Phorpain gelled Cartilages Carole and Chloe. Then Arthur Itis’s patella to the front of both legs. Got Acne on the head and eczema on the belly and chest creamed. Red Rash ointment under the man-breasts and down bellow. I can’t reach to get the ingrowing toenails done or get my Diabetic socks on; I’ll ask the Carer later. Sprayed over the toothache. Nasal sprayed the nostrils.
I’m always left with the feeling that I’ve missed something after abluting, and the medicationings are done, or not done.
On to the blogging.
Took this snap from the computer desk through the balcony, Well, this may sound ridiculous, but it is, I suppose. But it was as if I’d blinked, and four hours had disappeared.
I found that I’d finished yesterday’s blog and posted it of, and was currently working updating on today’s old ode.
Realising this, I checked the other rooms for taps or anything left on. The oven had been put on, but it was on low heat. Has it been like that all night and day? I don’t think so; the top of the cooker was not that hot, so I assume I did it not long ago.
Then, I had to check to see if I’d made any errors on Thursday’s blog. Yet I felt alright in myself. Apart from the usual confusion about what else I’d been up to.
Carer Jonee arrived. She’s an upbeat, straight-as-it-is kind of gal. I like her. I’ll not mention that she has similar problems to me, but she understands things that others don’t or can’t. Bless her. I carried on with starting this blog.
BEAUTIFUL CLOUDS
Photo Number One: I see a face/head of a beast and one of a human.
Photo 2: I see a cupid, two distinct faces; one is human, the other might be.
Three faces and bodies of a weasel-like nature.
Photo 3: An angel of sorts. A cat’s face in the right cloud. Maybe the outline of a pig is in this one. I looked once and saw it, searched for more, and can’t find it! Photo 4. A face with an elongated head. Left, a partial face. All the pictures remind me of icebergs.
I was about to make up some more cartoons, and…CALAMITY! CorelDraw stopped responding altogether! I could not close anything or open anything! No response to the keyboard on anything at all! The Task Manager thingamagig came up. All beyond me and depression dawned. I considered crying after my initial swearing. So, I left it for an hour, then turned everything off. It let me close the computer, well no… I clicked on Restart. When it came back on, CorelDraw loaded and worked? But not saving the work I’d done meant a lot of lost time before it loaded the working screen. But it did! I reopened Word, which had the Ode partly done on it, that was auto-saved for me, My concerns were quadriad, Enough I have nearly had, I feel a bit of a dingwad, Dad would say, Young-fellow-Milad… Life’s not all good, there’ll be bad, Earn your wages, pay your way… Be prepared to die one day, Cause no sod cares, do they? Some of the things that he did say! Hahaha! Thanks, Dad!
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The Iceland Man Cameth. Popped the bags in the doorway for me. I took them one at a time into the kitchen. Topped up with drinkies to keep the bladder and catheter happy. And some treats for myself.
arrived. Sniffing at the bag with Joanne’s treats in for offering to wash my nightshirt thingies for me. After explaining that the cotton they are made of should not go in the tumble dryer, that’s why they have shrunk so much. And I was thinking I was piling on the weight. Hehehe! Chris sorted the medications, and will be doing the last call of the day later. So, I must now get something to eat before he arrives, or maybe leave it until after he’s been & gone. Decisions, decisions… not my scene at all nowadays! No, no, I’ll make it afterwards because I still have to read the WP Reader. I’ll go on the reader now. Some great blogs on tonight.
Turning off now, the need for food, you know. Hehe!
I bought some vegetarian sausages and some chips (fries) today. They were pale-looking and unattractive to me at first, but with salt and vinegar added, they were decent enough and not too hard on the teeth. I also bought a few potato waffles and halved tomatoes. Two wholemeal rolls and a pot of mandarins in jelly to follow. I gave Carer Chris the other two rolls with his other self-selected nibbles and drinkies. I took this shot of the sunset from the kitchen window. Then I did the washing up and eventually worked out how to play back the recorded Heartbeat episodes. I started watching Series 8, number eight and fell asleep. I woke up what I thought was a few minutes later and found I was watching Series 8, episode 15. I couldn’t believe it. I must have changed summat without remembering because, according to the recording, I’d watched 7 one-hour episodes, which meant it should now be about 05:00hrs. But it was 02:00hrs. I’m sorry I wrote this now; I’ve just confused myself more. An easy thing to do, though. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A three-pronged attack last night. There were other ailments, such as , with a few rattlings from stirred me a few times. But the masters of mayhem last night were and I was grumpy, irritable and grouchy. A bit of a cantankerous curmudgeon. Later, I had my longest-ever Seizure. I must have been working on the blog cause work had been done that I couldn’t remember doing. When I returned to the moment, the computer had crashed, well frozen. How, when and why? Not the foggiest. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:00hrs; Reluctantly, I had to get up to attend the Porcelain Throne. With the last five days being controlled by a stubborn Constipation Conrad, I was in no rush to get there. I removed and emptied the nocturnal pouch. The contents were dark, but have been far worse. I put the kettle on and meandered to the wet room. Another painful affair, but with Tiffany and Erasmus hitting me, the pain of the slow, expanding things and getting stuck a few times during the evacuation didn’t bother me as much as it should have. I completed the task eventually, then went to get some pain relief for the ear and teeth. The tooth tincture spray, a Codeine, and I flushed the left ear and olive oil both.
I was in the kitchen making a brew of Glengettie, and Carer Richard arrived. Not in a good mood. I think his legs were giving the lad a lot of bother. He cheered a little before he departed.
THE MASSIVE BLANK BEGAN. I knew I was on the computer, but just messed about doing different things and no progress was made in these lost hours. Carer arrived. I was not fully with it yet. Medications and I recall her looking at the showerhead that would not work. Then I was at the door saying farewell to her… Back to the computer, and was pleased with tthe ode making. Then, back into another blank… or I fell asleep. When I came round or woke up, I tried to write on the blog, but it wasn’t having it, then the blue screen of death appeared. I turned it off, and feeling [erky but angry with myself, I de-scabbed some potatoes to have later; having closed down the computer, fully expecting it not to come back on, my oral was at its lowest. A good job. I took a few photos, some of which I’ve no recollection of taking. But I do recall going onto the balcony to take it. My once beloved tree copse, with the gravel pathway up to the park. I can’t even walk up it nowadays, let alone through the copse. I shut up on that subject; I’ll only depress myself. These dwellings on the left are behind the copse. This is the result of a day pouch emptying session. There were bits floating in it, bits that resembled thin bits of cotton wool. Bits of my prostate. I presume that the Finasteride has been killing me off for the past 18 months since the Specialist told the Doctor to put me on it… for 4 weeks! But I suspect that I got it all wrong and mixed up. I’m jolly-well good at doing that… along with forgetting things and coping with toothache & earache while the other ailments carry on as if nothing new has happened. No, I’m not sure what the heck I’m talking about, either. An old photo here on the right had my moustache on. Hehe! Made the second and last m ug of tea permitted. I’m just not with it today. Now these snaps, again from the balcony. You can tell the sun has got through at last. I took several shots, so I could see the flying duck. I hope you can see it and it isn’t me losing the plot again.
BLANK NUMBER TWO I’m sure I was in the kitchenette, washing the cup. I thhink I was musing on whether to have an early meal or not. What seemed like five minutes later, I was in the junk room sorting stuff out when I returned to reality. Not knowing what I was intending to do, I think I’d moved a load of stuff from the corner and into the middle of the room. Gawd knows why? I moved it back into the corner. A depression was forming, my teeth were hurting, and I felt pissed off about not getting any help over the showerhead problem. A good downer this one is. I was hobbling from room to room, doing nothing in any of them. I went out onto the sunny balcony again to take this photo of the end car park. Then, I sprayed some of the toothache stuff on the teeth and took a painkiller again. It might be these that are causing my out-of-its? The toothache is getting worse now as I get tired. The spray is doing nothing to help like it did earlier on. Or did, is it?
I’ll get the potatoes on, turn off the computer, and take yet another painkiller, Codeine. Might be back in the morning, or even later tonight if the toothache wakes me again. Cheers! Oh, Nurse Hristina just phoned; she is calling in the morning to take the blood for the Warfarin INR level test. Bless her!
Cock-up. Got in a muddle – Super-Seizure, messed things up. Sorry.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t until I looked at the solution. Tsk! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I can’t really remember anything getting at me today. I had moments of near contentment (they soon faded, but they were very welcome). Things were near normal throughout the day. Carer Carer visiting helped. At times, I thought I was… well, drunk or drugged. There was no reason for my feeling up, and the depressions were rare, short and very mild.
What a change! The day still brought along the Whoopsies and odd Accifauxpas. I even deleted and could not get back one of my Ode word lists. This would typically have had me pulling the hair I have not got, swearing, spitting, and self-hating and loathing my stupidity! Not today! As I type this (19:00 hrs), I’m so far behind because I had to create another list, but I’m still just plodding on.
I’ve had to buy more toothache killer spray, treats for the nurses & carers, a new shower head, and more AA batteries. My bank account must be the lowest it’s been in years. Yet I plod on with the blog and have got my meal cooking as I type. I’d better go and check on it. It’s all okay, not that I’d have bothered if it wasn’t. It’s as if someone else had taken control of my emotions! On with Inchy Today…
I had a terrible night’s sleep. I was forever waking up from electric shocks from the ankle or being shaken awake by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. As I forced myself out of bed (no whoopsies!), I saw the dark urine in the bag. And Carer Christopher arrived, that is how late I was getting up. About 07:15hrs.
Chris took the photos of my warped legs. The right knee was blown up… Not bombed or anything, just swollen (Hehe!)
There are some new bruises. The ankle ulcer now completely surrounds the right ankle. And the thing that worried Chris was that the lower right leg seemed to have shrunken in. The cause of this beat us both. Even that didn’t get to me! ‘Are you not worried, mate?’ he asked me. I think I said, well if it wasn’t that, it’d be something else going wrong! Laughed and got him a cold drink from the fridge while he selected some nibbles from the carer’s desk. As soon as Chris departed, Window Man Joe arrived to clean the balcony glass. He was in a vague mood. Hope he’s alright.
I got on the computer better late than never, and I deleted a file with my Word list in it. Unworried, I thought it would be in the trash, but no. I spent the next two hours plus making up another one, so nothing was done on the blog itself. I should have been livid-angry. Nope, I just got on with it. Something must be seriously wrong here. For this morning’s photo of the sun, I accidentally used the sunset option on Kodak Tim. But it came out quite well, and the blotches were hidden. Hehe!
I can see the blotches on one of the houses in front of the balcony. Of course, I know where to look for them. Humph! Later in the day, I ordered some more batteries, along with some more toothache serum and treats for the nurses and carers.
I had another search of the computer to see if I could find the word list again, then had the brainwave that I had saved them to the SD card in error. But didn’t find them. However, I did find the missing photo of the other days’ meal. Carer Chris showed me how to access the memory in Kodak Tim. Yee-Ha!
I then started to cook the meal.
As you can see, mushrooms, potatoes, and I had some fun shelling the peas this time. I’ll likely be finding odd peas for the next week or so; I dropped that many. It’s amazing the skill they have finding any nook or cranny to disappear into, isn’t it?
I added liquid smoke and caramelised vinegar to the mushrooms. Later, I discovered I’d taken two photos without the SD card in; thanks to Chris, I can now retrieve them. It’s very late now, I’d get food served up, hoping to be back in the morning, and praying my not getting uprightness stops. It’s just not natural… but I am enjoying it at the moment.
CHANGE OF MOOD COMMENCES! I went to prepare the fodder and took these Kodak Tim snaps of the view from the kitchen window. After I’d taken the photos, the return to ‘Inchy Normal Mode!’ started.
I dropped the camera, cursed as I bent down to retrieve Kodak Tim, and felt the blood running down inside of my left leg. At least it felt warm, so I knew I’d not died yet, Hehehe! Into the wet room and cleaned up Little Inchies fungal lesion bleed. Applied the Daktacort Cream, howled a mini second, and began the battle to get fresh PPs on. It didn’t go well, and this time I was well-pissed off about it! Which left Cartilage Chloe, no, right Cartilage Carole underneath the swollen disjointed knee cap to give way. I cursed silently, washed up and returned to the meal-making. It took so long that the potatoes that I’d taken out of the oven had gone almost cold. I whipped them into the microwave, got the other foods out, and drained ready peas, seasoned mushrooms, and vegan sausages. I got the potatoes out of the microwave at the optimum timing to make me drop one, which flew across the kitchen, leaving a trail of no-butter butter bits all over the floor. Via a short, sharp burst of a one-legged . I cleaned up the mess, by which time the potatoes had gone cold again. The cursing started, the self-loathing, and the feeling of guilt and uselessness returned. Back to square one! Amazingly, I enjoyed this concoction.
After demolishing it all quickly, a pot of mandarins in jelly followed. I prefer the mandarin in orange juice, but I spilt it whenever I took the lid off or ate it. I carefully took this Kodak Tim shot before getting the pots washed up. Carer Chris arrived. I gave him some of the jellies by way of thanking him.
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Climbing onto the donated old hospital air mattress bed, I slipped and banged my already contortedly positioned right knee. I wallowed in that pain and agony that resulted. I reaffirmed my alliance and sympathy with the victims of my incapabilities; , , and . Hoping this would ease some of the suffering being inflicted on me. It didn’t! Back to my regular moaning, bellyaching, grumbling, grouchy, grousing, miserable, down-at-heel self again!
I copied this one before Joe packed it in – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – As I was fighting off the urge to nod back to sleep, my Doreen Dementia-controlled brain spewed forth memories of a dream I felt that I’d been having at the time. It was nothing like the one the night before, and I think it had just started, for there is not much I can recall. But I felt that clear at the time, so I reached for the notepad and pen to write down what I had gleaned. I really believed I was in the old Control Room at Sawley Security. I was sitting at the control desk, recording a check call from a patrolman. Ray was his name and still is, I assume.
In walked the owner, Dave. He had a grim look on his face, it took him a while to speak, I was concerned for him. Finally, he spoke to me: “Gerry, I’ve got to ask you to do something for me, I’ll pay you well, and set you both up in a decent house, but it will be in Aberdeen. He continued, “But my son (which I’m not sure he had in real life) needs the help more than me. You will have to marry him and move North… the only option is for me to kill him, and then you if you refuse me”. I was speechless in the dream. I was mainly concentrating on how I could avoid being killed. He followed up. He’s gone gay; we’ve never had a shirt-lifter in the family! What do you say? I answered, ‘Alright then, anything to help’… at this moment, I shot awake. It’s not the most thrilling of dreams I appreciate, but I thought I’d just mention it. I’m glad I didn’t have it when working there; it could have made me neurotic. Come think of it, I probably have been mentally emotional and irrational anyway. Hahaha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – After musing and writing notes of the dream, and hoping things do go in threes, and remember one in the morning… or maybe not.
When Carer Richard came later on, he confirmed the colour as another 7 on the NHS chart. I had a misleading sensation that Trotskt Terence might be returning. Going by the wind from the rear end and mild gurgling coming from the innards of the Porcelain Throne, I limped. Well, I could not have been more wrong. It was even more painful and slow than yesterday’s visit. The colouring was dark green, bo bits of brown in it this time. The crossword book was attempted, but I didn’t get any answers. The relief when things got freed was boosted because Harold’s Haemorrhoids bled, not a drop, and I could see none in the Torpedo. Which was so big that the system needed three tries before it got through on its way to the sewers. Well, I was in there, the wet room, so decided to do the hygiene routine and medicationings.
The lack of bleeding from Harold was amply made up for with the shaving. I had to shave today because Carer Kara was calling, and she was glad I shaved the moustache off. Sorry that I did now. Two little nicks on the cheeks, one on the chin, two on one ear, and one on the other. I foolishly looked at the four-bladed razor and took a minute bit of flesh from my thumb. That bled more than all the others put together. Haha! I left the bloodied cloth soaking in bleach and tropical-scented softener. Then got the vaccumm out and did the mini-hallway. Made up the four waste bin bags into one. Off to the kitchen, I poddled; I hit my ankle against the trolley wheel. Swore and cursed and back to the wet room and changed into my long-distance spectacles.
Accidentally giving the door frame a mini-shoulder charge.
Then it was onto the blogging; I was well behind form last night. But catching up was hampered by a few high-voltage stings via and some hefty and lengthy bouts from . Neither eased of for ages; this shattered my already limited concentration, thus creating more lost time with the ever-ready corrections, most of which were found to be wrong later anyway. Humph!
turned up to do the midday checks. I love her and like it when she comes – even when she tells me off, Hehe!
She is coming back later to look at my finances.
I managed to get the Tuesday blog finished and sent off. Then Kara returned. Rang SpecSavers to sort out us paying their Bill, it seems that the spectacles will take two to three weeks to get made. They don’t tell you that in the adverts do they? She then changed the Catheter day bag and pouch for me. We had to laugh when she noticed that the right leg below the knee was swollen and to the right of the patella, and the knee had moved to the left?
What next? I told her of the red spring onions, and we had a quick look while she was using the computer for the banking, and found that Morrisons were selling them. So, I said I’d do an order via Amazon with Morrisons for today and get some for her to try. told me that the lifts were down and the fire alarm going again. She said she would not be in tomorrow, but I got them anyway; they will be kept in the fridge for her. Within two hours of Kara leaving, the delivery arrived.
I carried them one at a time into the kitchen and started sorting and photos of the things delivered from Morrison’s. I started with the fresh stuff. I stopped to prep some of the vegetables that needed cooking: potatoes and mushrooms. I tried a slice of each of the spring onions. The red ones were mild but great, and the white ones burned my throat! For the first time, I got the spuds and mushrooms on a slow boil using this pan. There was a fine selection of fresh stuff. I to battle to make room to get it all in the fridge.
I drained the ice bags and got them into a bag and box. I packed them, ready to ask the next Carer to take them to the waste chute for me. Good timing, too; just as I finished doing this, along came . I’d not realised how late it was. Gave him a cold can of his choice from the fridge and some nibbles. Medications were given to me. And he had to shoot off. Taking the box and bags with him to the chute for me. Thank you.
As I tucked yet again into the blogging, the Fire Alarm went off again, this time, the General Alarm, not mine. This was followed by several more persistent leg-climbing shocks.
I took a look at the right leg because the pain from the ulcer shocks seemed to have left the whole knee in pain. It was not looking good this time. I appear to be getting some new yellow bruises all over the leg. I tried to take this photo clear enough for you to see that the kneecap has definitely moved inwards. I’ll put some Phorpain on it later. No, I’ll do it now. Well, that hasn’t eased anything. I’ll take an extra Codeine. Gotten Himmel! It’s 19:55hrs!.
Time to get the nosh sorted, then.
Back in the morning. (Presumably) I’m back!
I took this evening shot while I was making the evening meal.
Can you see the animal’s face in it? At least the blotches were hidden amongst the clouds. A Vegan meat pastie, mushrooms, tomatoes, and boiled potatoes with the usual No-Butter butter but no salt tonight rounded off the feast. Fresh raw garden peas and red and white sliced spring onions rounded off the meal. A lemon yoghourt followed.
This Tuesday, I spent an awful lot of time with one-moment brainwaves like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, interspersed with times of them battling away at each other and having disagreements. Trying to identify what or which was the best option, choice, or course of action that needed responding to in favour of one or the other seemed to conjure up an unrecognised third-party decision-maker option. This made any conclusions or direction-making all but impossible. I just thought I’d mention it. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My carer said the urine colour was a five or 6 on the NHS scale card. Kara later put a new sleeve onto the catheter bag for me. I decided to treat myself to an early-awakening mug of the superb Thompson’s Punjana tea. (One more is allowed today, Tsk!) I got Kodak Tim and took these three photographs on the right of the morning view from the kitchenette window. They had, of course, the usual scattered blotches on each one.
Then off to the wet room. ruled the Porcelain Throne visit again. I swear the evacuation monster torpedo, freed at great effort and pain, had a worry-making green tinge embedded. After washing, no shave, I realised that I had none of the underarm and man-breast red blotch ointment. I asked Kara later, she is going to order them later for me. 👍 While urging the evacuation to start, I photographed areas that needed my attention for cleaning duties. There were plenty to choose from. The evacuation kick-off resisted all my efforts to get it to move. I even had time to have a go at the crossword.
I got on the computer to start updating the blog. When Carer Richard arrived, he decided not to put on the diabetic socks because the leg and ankle both looked a lot better. I agreed. He had issued the medication, and off home he went, a tired-looking carer. As I returned to the computer, the intercom sounded, reminding me that the Asda order was due today. I’d forgotten all about it coming. Yes, me, forgetting. Haha! The deliveryman kindly put the food into carriers and boxes for me. Getting them into the kitchen was more effort-taking and produced some strong, heavy breathing for me, but I soon set about sorting out the foods after a minute’s rest. I made a cock-up with ordering the large pie, I didn’t realise it was frozen, and there was not room in the freezer to store it. I double-wrapped it and got it into the big waste bag. Putting the things away in the fridge, even I was surprised at how many items I found that were out of date. So many, that a few dates that I could not read even with the magnifying glass, I added them all to the big waste bag. It freed up a little room, but the freezer took the frozen potatoes, not the slightest chance of making any room for the pie. Tsk! For the red spring onions, I have one for Vegan Carer Kara to try. One for me to try. I liked them! The Dutch tomatoes were tasty, too! I topped up the Carer’s & Nurse’s liquid treats shelves.
Several of then got a grip of me. Whether these were ‘s, or maybe , I don’t know. In fact, the next four hours or so are blanks. Other than I know that called, that’s all of this period I remember. I know she checked the catheter and phoned someone or made two medical-related calls, and I remembered to give her some thanks treats and the red onions. Other scattered bits are undecipherable.
I know I made a meal and photographed it. (In the morning, I realised I’d left the SD card in the camera!) I’m certain I got my head down early. In the morning, I recalled a bit of the dream. That was for the second day on the trot, I think. It was a truly weird one from days gone by. I’ll dwell on that further in Wednesday’s blog.
,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All The Best of Luck!
Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic! The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!
I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut. I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!
I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me. As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what? I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.
Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out. ! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.
Between , supported by it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.
Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this. Frustration Frank visited.
Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.
Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!
If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven. I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.
But the odds are it’ll be me!
Gorgeous clouds.
Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning. I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well!
I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.
Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it. Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheers!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – No Accifauxpas. No shaving cuts (No shave) There was just one partial tumble. I did not suffer any injuries or harm, apart from a smidgeon of backache from when I landed. There were no nurses or regular Caregivers. Up until 16:30 hrs, there were no ‘s from either ankle. Then they kicked off big-time but have just ceased to bother me now. The eyes faded a little later than usual, but they are even worse now as I type this. Another late start on the day’s blog. The main problems have been the ankle ulcer and repeated periods of being Out-Of-It, Cogniscent Impairment and Mind Blanks or Non-Epilectic Seizures. I had one when Carer Israel came, but he was aware of my problems and handled it politely. Another Carer called, and I was deep out of it. I think he called 111 about the leg ulcer for me. But I’m hoping he will call again later so that I can find out what, if anything, was arranged and if I am to do anything? I just can’t gain any memory with any clarity over the visit. He was caring, I reckon. But I cannot remember him leaving either. Oh, dearie me! Alu was here such a long time too, trying to get me sorted out. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not a good start. But then, whenever is it?
Bags sorted out.
Blogging for several hours, and Carer Israel arrived, on his way home, last call. Did a good job with the diabetic socks, and put some cream on my ankle first. Treated him.
Pressed on with the blogging. Taking the above photos of the view in-between moments of with-it and Out-of-it.
I lost several hours when Carer Ayu came. I was just not with it, and I am still unsure if I have to do anything about the ankles he phoned up about. He creamed the ankles again and gave Back-Pain-Brenda a dose of Phorpain killer salve.
I espied the laundry that Carer Chris returned for me last night. Got dressing gowns and nightshirts hung up.
Even more rubbish was cleaned up. My mind was getting me to do the blog, but Doreen Dementure rather wanted me to start other jobs and forget about them, and others started.
Afternoon clouds as the sun disappeared, although it did fight its way through again later.
I came across an SD card in the drawer and looked at what was on it. I found three very sad photos and felt so sorry I’d looked at them now. My old neighbour Josie ♥, as I took her her Sunday lunch. Some drinkies and nibbles. I used to look forward to doing this every Sunday for her. Sadly, Josie took a tumble and broke her hip. I wanted to find out which home she’d be taken to so I could somehow visit her once a week. ♥ But it’s a secret, and I am not allowed to visit her. Why, no one knows.
Sister Jane’s Mr Fooey! ♥. I think he was 17 when he passed away. I cried as I recall. He was nearly blind and deaf, had liver problems and yet he was the gentlest cat I’ve known. ♥ This is mugging’s me. But why was I so sad to see this selfie I took by accident in the lift? I used to go out with the trolley, walk over the road, up through my beloved tree copse, down to Mansfield, and into Sherwood to get my shopping. Then, back down to Winchester Street Hill, ascend back to the flats, and get into the lift. I look fresh in this photo, too. It was never a problem to get out. Now, I even need help getting dressed, but mind you, I don’t often get it, even when I’m going to the hospital. I started to mope a little. Carer Aju arrived to cheer me up a smidgeon. But as I got some Lamburgers cooking, my spirits and memories of these three photos got to me. This suddenly reminded me that I had not had a wash and shave today, but I didn’t seem bothered now. It’s a risky thing to do with the eyes so bad. So, I closed down the computer and made a nosh of sorts: a burger on rolls and tomatoes. Accompanied by the pathetic blues.
I think I’ve used this one before. Sorry!
Back in the morning folks, I hope. What a rotten-in-and-out-it day.
I’m back…
My meal feast
Carer Richard arrived. Late call. He took off the diabetic socks. Painkiller given me. He was here a while, I think. But I was in an Out-of-It condition. I think I got into the hospital bed before he left… Confusion Conrad again.
I’m sure I was in bed and suddenly got up to wash the meal-making and eating items. I think this photo was found on the camera in the morning, with blotches included.
Could I get to sleep? No, not for ages! I had no defence against the haunting onrush of. I played about with the hospital bed’s controls and eventually found a more comfy position. But it didn’t help. Steve instilled hatred, self-lambasting, and feeling sorry for myself. It took me hours before I eventually nodded off. Humph!
Today was shared between moments of witwantonry, fear of reincarnation, frustration, Accifauxpas, self-vilification, futility, repudiation, prevarication, mystification, blogging addiction, mind-blanks, neurotransmission twitches, wrenches, and jerks, Shoulder Shuddering Shirley, aches & pains, headache and toothache that had me believe that having a trephination I’m on list for, would be less painful. A genuine ordalium! It would have saved time and been just as accurate to have typed. ‘It was a normal day for me today’. But I like a graphic explanation now & then. Hehe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I think yesterday’s tumble off of the stepladder may have affected the colour of the urine. So much of a deeper red than usual, even for a morning. I got a letter confirming that I’m on the list for the trephination procedure. That cheered me up instantaneously! The noninvasive CAT scan results were unclear enough, so they must look closer. Someone will call on me later to explain the procedure, nearer the time.
I made a milkless brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea this time. Not that it mattered because I let it go cold, forgot all about it, left it near the kettle, and meandered to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuated product was a deeply, almost yellow-coloured. Soft, wet miniature golf ball-sized chunks, followed by some same-coloured soup as a backup. Well, there was no crosswording today. Still painful, though.
I concentrated on updating yesterday’s blog. It went well for the first half-hour or so. Then, my attention was disrupted by both ankle ulcers, the left one, for the first time in weeks. I soon realised they were far worse when they stayed down at the ankle and not the usual climbing up the leg. A different type of pain this morning, and they have stayed like this all day up to now. It was hard work on the blog now, slow and mistake-ridden.
Carer Chris arrived. He did the medicationalisationings and got the diabetic socks on, which was a little painful; the ulcer area seems more delicate today. He had drinks from the fridge and nibbles from the Carers & Nurses Table tub. Later, he returned with the laundry and took the waste bags away with him.
For about three hours, I repeatedly went into either Mind Blanks, a few sort of Brain-Refusing-to-Work Moments, and possibly non-epileptic seizures. Each time, it was like starting over again without knowing what I’d done already or not. Even after reading the blog, I could not recall doing some of what I’d written. This period was broken with the arrival of Carer Joanne, bless her. She soon noticed I was confused; many would not have picked up on that. She was not very well herself, yet she spotted my frustrations and confusion. ♥ Thank you! 💕
I took an enforced break from the computer, as my eyes were getting worse earlier than ever today, and a break might help my brain. I went through some boxes and bins, collecting more rubbish and putting it into a waste bag. I got the Hoover out again and did the hallway.
I took a Kodak Tim shot with the blotches in it and felt I had to just sit down. So I did. I dropped on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I didn’t nod off, but I did stir after looking at the dirty upholstery and tried a small patch with the foam cleaner and brush. What a mess! I’ll try again tomorrow after asking a carer to read the instructions on the can that I can’t. Hehe! It looks dirtier than it did before I tried to clean it! Humph! I decided on an early meal… not a good idea, I realised afterwards! Grumph! I had to remove the potatoes with black-eyed shoots from the Sainsbury bag; oh, no, it was Asda’s.
Sprayed them with oil, the good ones, and into the oven. Got a vegan pastie in the microwave, ready to heat later, and foolishly sat down again on the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, Little-Inchy-Nipping, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Then, I fell asleep! And I had a fantastic dream, which I wrote notes of to make tomorrow’s ode out of. Then, I smelt the burning from the kitchenette! I stumbled to get up to check the state of the food and gave way as I struggled out of the recliner. Clunk-Thud! Down on my knees! Getting back up with such haste, bearing in mind that the food may be on fire in the oven… a degree of semi-pity took hold of me. I went through a pain barrier to get up quickly, but unfortunately, against the chair wheel en route to the kitchen. My language was atrocious! And my potatoes were burnt to a cinder! With , I dared not even try to eat one. Still, I had the vegan pastie to eat, and all was not lost, even if it took me half an hour to clean things up and throw away the chip tray! Grrr!
Things got worse. After using the oven’s heat to heat the vegan slice, which looked and smelt so lovely, I got it onto a dish and added some fresh halved tomatoes and brown sauce. I knocked the pastie wrapper off the worktop as I placed it on the tray and saw the use-by date on it. Disasterously, at least sadly, it read, ‘Use by Jul 18 2024’! So that was binned as well. My three mini tomatoes meal was eaten with some dry bread and sea salt. Hahaha! I wonder what the prisoners in the HMP, I can see through my kitchen window, had for lunch?
As is evident, I’m not usually stuck for words… but I was here! Spit!
Now, I am hours late and behind with the blog. It will cost me tomorrow to catch up.
I’m not up to doing any more blogging after today’s erm… well, daymare! I took this snap from the main room on the balcony. Then, I went into the kitchen to take this one of the offered views. When I first looked through the window, I saw a flock of birds flying by; I could not see which ones. But they were long gone by the time I got the Kodak out. There appeared to be hundreds of them, but with Glaucoma Gladys and Catract Katie, who knows?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday. Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today. However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg). ①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha! ② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem! I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…
According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.
Off to the wet room Throne.
Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.
Rubbish sorted.
At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.
Carer Maryham arrived. She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open. Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.
After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.
An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them. Humph! I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions. Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha! I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table. And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks. Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink! I’ll not get them again!
I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later. On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her. Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems. I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either! As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call. It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving. It went like a dream! Not a single cut! I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!
What next? I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good! Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications. Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me. So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day! I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!
I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.
I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal. Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter. I enjoyed this.
Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement. I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!
The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .
Today’s main contestants in life’s pain and bother battle have been Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, or rather, the difficulty of his battle with Neuropathy, Pete, in trying to get the cerebrum to identify the messages he was sending to the brain! I was all over the place. Dropping things, walking into things, stuttering verbally and physically while resisting the Cartilage Girls Chloe & Carole’s desire for me to take a tumble and end up on the floor throughout the day! I was also waiting for the arrival of three deliveries: one from the Cheap Food Shop and two from Amazon. Even if I found the time (three hours needed) to get a sh_ _, shave and shower, I dare not. I cannot hear the fire alarm, door chime, intercom, mobile, or telephone when I’m in the wet room. Absolutely no chance when I’m under the shower, and I do need a good scrub-up badly; having the Diabetic sock on the left leg and the diabetic compression bandaging on the right one for four weeks now meant I couldn’t take a shower. I needed the toothache tincture spray, upholstery cleaning spray, and brush (delivered today) that I’d bought. They came very late in the day, so my eyes worsened, and tiredness came on rapidly. I just ran out of time again. Up around 05:00hrs. I found that the nocturnal bag had more in it, but Shaq later confirmed that it was grade 6 on the NHS chart. That’s not good. The rubbish from yesterday’s delivery of the damaged saucepans was put near the flat’s entry/exit door. This inspired me to take a look at the three new saucepans and try to photograph the damage. The new small saucepan arrived just before Carer Shaq arrived. The saucepan at the back left was put underneath the stove.
Here, on the right, is the damage to those delivered yesterday. A broken handle and a dented rim on the other one at the corner. The new small pan that came today seemed to be okay. Shaquille classed the urine as a 6 this morning. I went off to the Porcelain Throne. I went through the crosswording and counted the cracks on the wetroom ceiling routine. Constipation Conrad was adamant that nothing was to escape. None did! I made up another bag of waste, and then, at long last, I got onto the blogging duties. The new saucepan was nice and heavy, as are the others. Less chance of my knocking off the cooker! I went to make a brew of the wonderfully strong Thompson’s Punjana tea. I took a kitchenette view shot and then went back to the computer. This is when the shaking and shuddering started. I dropped the mug of tea and came close to dropping the computer mouse. The washing returned yesterday that I’d forgotten all about. It’s not surprising; I was in the land of nod when it came.
I cleaned up and made another brew of tea, Glengettie. Back to the wet room. Conrad was in full charge again, but this time, my efforts to force things along worked, and four torpedo-shaped, rock-hard chunks created a slash up my bum as they hit the water. It didn’t half stink with it. It also retained the Kharki colour of the last few days. I used the extra-strong bog cleaner, added some Lemon Sherbert disinfectant and left it to marinate for a while longer.
The fabric foam sprays were delivered at about 15:00hrs. I’ll have to ask a Carer if they can read the instructions for me and write them down later.
I made an Asda order for next week and will put it on the Google diary to avoid the double order from Iceland coming this week. I am a fool! The blog’s progress was so slow. Error, mistake, mix-up, grammar, hitting wrong keys… Not good at all! Aha! The tooth pain spray arrived. I think I may have whooped for joy? Not sure! But when I opened the crushed and torn little box, I found the instructions were too small to read. Even with the magnifying glass! Glaucoma Gladys, Cataract Katie and the eyelids drooping with tiredness forced me to stop blogging. I’ll ask whoever comes on the evening call if they can read the instructions. It’s been a busy day. At least, it felt like it had.
The cheap food shop order arrived next. I’d got some lemon wafers (also for me), Clara’s Truffles for nurses and carers’ and other treats. As soon as I remember what, I’ll let you know.
I shall return with an update in the morning. (He says) I went to see what food was available, I hope I can read the use-by dates. I took this rather decent, apart from the blotched snap of the view.
Carer Chris turned up. As he sorted the night catheter pouch out to put on, he listened to my tale of cleaning the upholstery and suggested I buy a new recliner. He got on my computer to have a look at the prices. The prices put an end to any intention of buying a new one. Until Chris spotted what I would have been interested in, a brown one, which was so cheap that it must have been a mistake, I thought. The others he looked at ranged from £999 to £4,120! This brown one was only £300! Too good to be true? But Chris confirmed the price. Delivery in 3-5 days at £99. I thought I’d ask Kara to take a look. This had tweaked my interest. Chris took the diabetic socks off, slipped me a painkiller and then read the instructions on the toothache tincture bottle. I asked him to do this to confirm whether I should spray it inside or out and what to do immediately after application. He patiently read through them and told me that I had to spray them on the affected area inside but that I must not swallow for any reason for ten minutes after spraying it on. Bless him. I had a last look at the advertisement for the recliner… Whoopsiedangleplop! I realised it is self-assembly. Me? Able to assemble a recliner? No!
Out of the blue, a new pain came! On the top of my left foot, ankle-end. This was painful, a sort of fluctuating throbbing stinging kind. This bodes not well! I’ve already got Arthur Itis, a currently dormant ankle ulcer and Cartilage Chloe collapsing painfully on my left leg. I’ll be struggling to hobble around in the morning. (I always look on the bright side, Hehehe!) Toothache Tiffany launched a pain attack as I was mountaineering up onto the second-hand hospital bed. I thought about spraying some more of the painkiller onto the gums. But I don’t think Chris said anything about the frequencies to be used; how often, timewise?
As I was about to settle, I remembered I’d not had anything to eat yet. So I descended from bed and doubled up two ready meals in the microwave. I hoped it was soft enough for my teggies to cope with. I ate about a third of it.
I wasn’t up to getting back into the bed, so I collapsed thuddingly onto 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.
Zzz!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers unless you’ve got Dementia, then you lose both buggers!
