07:00hrs: A second decent night’s kip for the old man, then. (It’s not often I can say that!) I thought it wise to wait for a little before getting excited; I’d not done the checks yet, and I didn’t want to bring it back to reality just yet for a while.
I went into the kitchenette, mainly to check on the taps, stove, fridge etc. to make sure I’d not left anything on that shouldn’t be. All Clear! So, a was duly adopted!
It was a foggy morning, not unlike those we used to get every November so many years ago. The memories flowed for a while. as I took these photographs! Not necessarily good recollections. But a few did sneak in. Got the Health checks done.
Pulse decent at 33.1°1f.
Sorry to say that the flipping Blood Pressure came out up in the Top Red area, Hypertension Three! But only just. Hehe!
The SYS was really high this time at Red-Risk 162.
The Dia was fine in the Amber zone.
The Pulse was creeping back up again at 78.
I just can’t understand why they have classed in the red-three zone. When three of the four are in the Amber zone? I expected to be well lower down on the scale. Mind you, the SYS was high. Came in. Got the medications sorted, and the lad was in a rush; I could sense it… his being so late told me that as well. He wanted his bed, and who could blame him. Talked him into trying a cold Starbuck Coffee for his thank-you treat. Be interesting to see what he say’s about it later next week. I bet Richard won’t take a coffee with Rum & Coke and his favourite, Pink Gin and lemon, being on offer. Hehe! He can have a coffee as well. I got the mince in the pan with the beans and added some flavourings.
I’m well known as a flavourings-adder, you know. Hehehe!
Then I got two large potatoes in the big saucepan on the boil, and I nipped back to the computer to get her started and begin updating the Saturday blog. I had to avoid getting distracted with blogging for fear of forgetting about Josie’s meal cooking.
Went back to check, and the potatoes were already done? It only seemed like ten minutes. But, of course, it was longer. As you can see in the photo here when it came to dicing the spuds ready to go in the oven to bake them crispy… This is how one potato turned out – Bad! So, not so many spuds in Josie’s meal today. Got the diced and olive-oil-sprayed spuds in the heated oven. Had a clean-up. And back to the computer. That is not blood on the paper towel. Oh, no! It’s probably jam or ketchup, something like that. As if a man of my calibre would cut his right index finger while slicing the spud, laughable. Did some work on the blog, mostly correcting errors made. Tsk! Bet I still missed no end of them!
Added spuds to the saucepan of chilli-stew, or whatever you want to call it. But after taking out approximately half of the stew and placing it into a separate lidded-tub This is Josie’s 2nd meal for Monday. She heats it up in her microwave. I try to make the two meals different for her. After taking out the Monday portion, I added some basil and BBQ to the first lot and stirred it up, warming it gently. No potatoes in the Monday one, either. I had 20-minutes or so on the blog and made up Josie’s tray.
I’d got carried away today… Just look at that pile of stew in the bowl for her. It might get her eating better, but it is bound to get me accused of trying to make her look like Betty Bunter. Now, for the less mature whippersnappers, these names will mean nothing. But to us kings growing up[ in the ’50s, they were previously revered. For they were in comics that we read. Possibly. In this photo, Betty’s name is Bessie Bunter, but later she became Betty; I don’t know why. It’s me mishearing what Josie was saying… I’ll have to check that later with her.
But she was for the girls, and for us lads, we had Billy Bunter. Two overweight kids that always seemed to get the better of their parents in the story we read. Hehehe! I think that Sister Jane was a fan of that comic. There was the Topper, Beezer, Beano, Dandy, Eagle & others. Not bad for a bloke who read his instructions from the nut-house hospital last night and can’t remember anything he read?
Note the changing times in the covers here? In those days, the girls were trained as domestics, not future wives. So, Billy gets excitement out in the woods with criminals, and Betty-Bessie battles the fight to get food in the house. Not a single person back then mentioned them being unhealthily overweight. Hahaha! I wondered off subject again there, didn’t I?
Back to the diary: I delivered the meals to Josie. I remembered taking the Lumix camera with me in my pocket, and I’d also got it in my bag! Every little victory, you know!
Josie was looking better today; bless her cotton socks. I’m not sure who is the more forgetful between us… but my guess would be it being even-stevens! Hehehe! The deafness we also share is just the same. She didn’t notice the over twice the usual amount of chillie-stew and the larger bowl I had to use to get it all in. About Gawd knows when… I got the Saturday blog posted off. Carer Carolynne arrived. We got the medications sorted and had a natter. (Well, I did!) Hehe! Forced treats in thanks on her. She took the waste bags with her as she left; with a smile.
Not in the flat, though. There was a fire in Basford or Sherwood area. I took these pictures of it. Much smoke varying from white to black and a few bursts of flames. Annoyingly, I could find nothing on the news or the internet about it.
These chronologically go from left to right as you go down.
Shame I couldn’t find them for a newspaper to use.
It’s 20:00hrs already! I’ll get something to eat, then my head down, I think. ♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫ Flavour-Rating 7.2/10. And I was surprised at how tasty the Adkins cobs were. The Asda Soya lemon yoghourt was its usual tasty treat.
I got ensconced 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.
Sleep came quickly tonight! But could I stay asleep? No! I woke up jouncingly, joltingly, or jarringly so often; it almost tired me out! Fair enough, I got back to sleep quickly enough, but minutes later (it seemed), I was once again twitchingly woken up!
Sweet Morpheus was playing with me once more…
Or, mayhap it was , continuing on her mission along with the other mysteries of 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?
A proper short one this time, sorry. But, it took me that long to get the. Monday blog updated (15:00hrs) & I must rush cause I’m out tomorrow for the Covid booster. TTFN.
Up at 03:30hrs: Worked on yesterday’s ode until 05:30hrs. Then off to the Porcelain Throne. Easier today! I set the alarm off by accident in the dressing stage, didn’t know I’d done it, but I thought I heard a voice in the flat. Had a look around and saw the alarm box flashing. Apologised.
Richard arrived, Yawningly – he was so tired. But, we managed a little natter and laugh, even a moan about things to each other. He was reluctant to take the freebies in thanks, but I sulked, and he took them. Hehe!
Was noisy again.
I literally got lost in everything I tried to do today.
Got a call from a woman. The only words I caught were Virgin Media?
I got some potatoes on with the black bean sauce; I hope it works out alright.
In the amber, nearly the green!
CARE IS DUE SOON MUST GET SOME MOSH SORTED
Just getting the meal served up, and Kylie arrived.
She helped me prep the meal. Then got the medications given. Had a laugh and natter, which was nice. Took the bags with her as she left.
I stirred into ersatz life around 0315hrs, in need of a wee-wee. By the time I’d caught my balance and was up on my feet grabbing Metal-Mickey, another need arose, that of the , and I made my way to the wet room, I managed to give my right big toe a stubbing of excellent quality, pain-wise. On the end of the open door from the front room. Dropping Metal-Micky, which knocked a photo off of the corner unit and broke the glass of the frame! I just had to sort the mess out there and then. I had a terribly hard job picking up all the glass while hoping and praying my efforts would be successful in containing or retaining the torpedo that was getting anxious to be freed! I got it cleaned up, the photo back loosely in the frame. With Back-Pain-Brenda giving me some gip, I dare not hobble in the usual fashion, so I shuffled as speedily as I could manage to the awaiting closet. Got into the landing position for the seat, dropped the stick, and then whipped down the jammie bottoms and PP’s in one go; and plunk! I’d not even hit the plastic before the evacuation began. After a few seconds, there was a worrying hold-up that needed some input on my behalf to get things moving again. Once I got through that snag, things went smoothly again and were not as painful as usual. A few specks of blood from Harolds Haemorrhoids, I reckon, the blood, what bit there was of it, did not have runniness that Little Incies Fungal Lesion shoots out. The hot water was running better today. Still not like it used to be, but beggars can’t be choosers. Made up two waste bags; most of the contents were from last night’s farcical series of & last night when I was making the worst ever mess of cooking an uneatable meal. I cringed when I wrote that, remembering all the mistakes I made doing it! I got Richard’s treats ready, not those in the fridge, too early.
Got the computer on, and the mind did it again… I had to sit there, totally incapable of gathering my thoughts or concentration. This happens now and again; I thought maybe it did last night when I was making the meal?
Notwithstanding, within a few minutes, the problems started with WordPress. It would not show the comments on the site page again. Which meant going through the comments tag, which offers no ‘Like’ button, and I always like to use that. Humph!
Around 05:00hrs, I got sa message on the mobile. An odd hour to get one of these, I thought… I heard the new louder tone I’d selected the other day, but could I find the phone? No! Well, not for what seemed like an hour of searching for it, Hehehe! I eventually gave up, and when I got back to the computer after searching each of my three rooms and clothes in the hallway, and knocked the pen off of the desk, got the picker-upperer to retrieve it and – spotted the phone in my slipper? Why I didn’t look there first, I don’t know… Hehehe! I’d love to know how and why it ended up on the slipper. But it will remain a Dementia Doreen’s secret, as a part of the mysteries and enigmas of Woodthorpe Court! The ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for me to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare, worry and baffle me! I was so annoyed when I opened the message; It was one I’d been having for a year or two. ‘You have been in contact with a confirmed Covid case. Ring this number…’ Grrr! Scammers!
Arrived, looking a little weary the lad was. But we chatted away merrily… well, some of it wasn’t so merry. I told him of my frustration at WordPress not allowing me access to the comments and told him the problems it gave me.
He tried to help as best he could in between his yawnings. But between us, we got more lost with it. Hehehe! Gave him his treats; if anyone deserves them, Richard does. He always goes further in trying to help than any other Carers do. Bade Richard farewell, and I made a brew of Glengettie. There’s a story to this mug of tea: I put the kettle on and saw I was low on teabags in the caddy. So, went into the cupboard to get some more Glengettie out to fill the caddy. And found two tea bags that had fallen at the back. They were round ones, so not Thompsons. They had to be Glengettie, Co-op 99, or J Sainsbury extra-strong. Funny, how can one get distracted by little pointless things like this? I thought I’ll use one now, but it fell to pieces as I picked it up – Gawd, I thought, how long has that been there? I sniffed the other one, which smelt like a Glengettie to me, and made a brew with it; I’ll know by its taste. It was a Glengettie! Amazing how long they last, innit? Lost none of strength or bitterness that is usual with Glengettie. Just thought I tell yer…
Got the Tuesday blog finished and posted. Then made a start on today’s Ode. Got it finished and doctored, then got carried away, adding to the ode-word list… I can’t help it; I love words.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the doorbell. I thought it might be Josie bringing the Sunday lunch tray and things back; thank heavens she’s not left it till later and woke me up again. But no, it wasn’t Josie! I opened the door, and there were some homegrown tomatoes on the floor… which had to be Jenny donating to me. Always have a tangy taste bite to them, these that Jenny gives me. She knows I love them. Bless her. I checked on the condition of the sourdough bread from yesterday. I immediately, and that’s fast for me; I decided to have the bread, well buttered, and tomatoes for lunch… tea or dinner… maybe supper today.
I was late again in getting the done. This could have been that with doing them late yesterday and the graph going into the amber, I’d subconsciously left it late again? I got out the thermometer and started sphygmomanometerisationing.
Well, it was only a thought. Hehehe! Back up to the danger reds level two, Hypertension stage. SIA 169, DIA 75, Pulse 78 or 8, and the Body Temperature at 3.34°f.
This up and down is bothering me a smidgeon. I did mention it to the Doctor I got no suggestions or instructions. In fact, I got no response at all. It’s being so popular that’s keeping me going, you know! Haha!
I’ve started to keep a new record of the once-daily readings on Excel. It doesn’t look too good, just the two in the green results over four days. Mmm! Hehehe! It’ll change soon; it always does; you watch, then a day or two later, it’ll shoot up again.
Time to get the bread and tomatoes prepared, methinks. Bootiful clouds out there when I was slicing the tomatoes, slicing and buttering the bread and getting some chips in the oven. Luckily I have several plasters to pick from when I cut the finger.
I got the chips in the oven and spread some imitation butter on the slices of sourbread. Cut the tomatoes and went to do a J Sainsbury order for next week… but… Hard to believe, I know.
Obviously, Liberty-Global, Virgin Media supremo Mr Fries, has not managed to go four days without the signal going down. Still, as long as he gets his paltry salary of $23.6 million a year, plus bonuses and an expense account, why should he be interested in his customers? You must admire the man’s chicanery, thaumaturgy, figure-shuffling, slithery sidestepping and number-crunching. That somehow fools his bosses that he knows what he’s doing. I hate him, but I’m still jealous of the con-man supreme.
Got the fodder on the tray with a pot of lemon mousse, and I gobbled it all up without any bother. Mind you, it was a small meal for me. Purposely of cause, you see, as a part of my new diet regime. I am determined to lose weight by hook or by crook. I’m dedicated to it…
Two came tonight. Neither rang the door chime again. I mentioned this to both of them. I explained why, calmy, to them again why I wanted them to; “I could have been changing blood pants or taking a wee-wee; had I been doing either, the chime would have alerted me and given me time to stop you walking in and causing me embarrassment, you see?” I’m not sure it got through, and the new Carer seemed annoyed as if I’d told her off, saying We can’t get in your key safe. Well, the door wasn’t locked anyway? The regular gal was okay about it.
The hot water was still as hot as it used to be? Teggies did first, then the shaving – most cautiously. No more chunks of teeth fell off, one… I say…ONE tiny cut shaving, no dizzies, leg dances or banging into anything in the shower session! Brilliant!
Coming out from the ablutionalisationing, I went A-over-T on the towel airer! Clouting my head in the door on my way down. That’ll teach me to go into Smug-Modes! I’m going to try and stop going into them for a bit.
The view from the kitchen window was fantastic. Bootiful! That strip of light has been showing on clear nights for says now.
I put the computer on to see if Mr (Smoke & Mirrors) Fries crap Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet service was back online – it was, but it ran relatively slow.
Back on the computer, and I updated this blog. Doing rather well at it, actually, for once. However. a . I finished my bottle of spring water and went to fetch tonic water from the kitchen. The view outside was now to me. Magnificent!
After a couple of further hours, I’d nearly finished this blog and was ready to check for errors – Hahaha! Why do I bother? I always miss a load of mistakes in every blog, anyway!
Gave me a short concert of clumps. Followed by a couple whirling noises… ending with a solid thud. I’d love to know what he’s making at this time of night… a drinks cabinet, mayhap? Hahaha!
Humph! Got the checking of the blog finished. I checked three times and found something wrong each time – I will not try again.
Hello, more sounds from Herbert above… I think I’ve worked out what he’s up to… I wonder who the man or woman is with him?
I think of odd things, many sorts, some ulteriorly… Some thoughts are of electrical technicality… The TV stopped working, the DVD too… The computer does its own thing, getting me into a stew, The help pamphlet is all written metrically, But I was educated in inches and things imperially!
I write thoughts in an ode, mostly inferiorly… Cause my sleeping is now all somnambulistically, I went to the Porcelain Throne, and it came out like gooey glue! Concentration is hard, lack of kip I rue… But making these crap odes, I still pursue, I don’t think I love owt else I do…
But dreams and hopes, I had a few… Into the ether, they all got threw, Oh, dearie me, Throne time again, stinkaroo! What does the future hold? Do I want a preview? Whatever, if any, will not hold any bijou… I know! I’ll give myself a sanity interview?
Thursday 2nd June 2022
From my scribbled notes: 30% of which I couldn’t decipher or guesstimated.
04:40hrs: I gave up trying to stay asleep; the jumping awakes were endless again! Rose for a wee-wee. (Unreadable) Something to do with the Canon camera?
Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons Signature tea.
Very tasty! Took a photo from the kitchen window, through the glass.
Took another photo of the view using the flash. I can’t remember why; maybe I could have been testing to see if the flash worked? I’ve still not remembered what the original fault was? I used the Fuji after this. So whatever it was (I’ll remember soon) had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)
The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.
Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.
A lot of squashed up scribbling on the notepad here. Tea, view (but I can’t find any photos of it?). Bogging, hard work, errors, mistakes… Finished blog, sent off, emailed link, Pinterested and Facebooking.
Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.
Ah, this I can… the swine!
It’s an exciting bit of writing here… Best I can make out; what it says is: Blu snaps Herb? WP Reader…
Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.
The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.
When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway.
Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.
Hehehe! I felt a little sorry for him, really.
I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.
Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.
I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated.
I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and both started being noisy in the extreme… but I think I welcomed it. I managed as blank a mind as must be possible. Still, the overriding view of acceptance, nothing to be done, lingered... I noted the time, 21:00hrs, as I tried to get some shut-eye. At 21:03hrs, the Thought Storms with apparently recharged batteries kicked off!
Sweet Morpheus didn’t stand a chance. I lay there fighting, talking to, and cursing the self-nit-picking, derogatory Thought Storms. Never had them as bad, and in the end, I got up around three o’clock for a most unwilling wee-wee, and again I suffered from the. Now I was feeling somewhat fed up in the extreme! So, I went through to put the kettle on… Continued below!
As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!
I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.
This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down.
I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.
The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
But have often hurt me much more,
I must stop moaning anymore.
I can’t put it any blunter,
Accept things, as said thereinbefore
It’s the only way to perdure!
I spent many hours on the computer, updating blogs, correcting cock-ups, and eventually getting the blog done and posted. Then, Pinteresting, WP reading, and WordPress Comment making.
T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.
Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no!
When Mr Fries managed to get a signal back, I spent many hours doing the top Ode for this blog and updating it. I was doing well… until…
The smoke & mirrors man, the fiddler of figures, and incapable of running an internet service without losing the signal, Mr Fries, the Mafia looking character, fails again! Humph!
While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging for it, internet supply?
So, I took more photographs while waiting for Fries, the £23m salaried boss, to get the Liberty-Global signal again.
Only one vehicle was parked, snuggly on the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).
The front car park opposite my beloved Woodthorpe Court.
The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.
Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…
Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.
Not many folks out there; I suppose they are watching the ER celebrations for the Queens?
The Queen was praised for “staying the course” as royals joined dignitaries at a thanksgiving service for the Platinum Jubilee at St Paul’s Cathedral. Referring to her love of horse racing, Archbishop of York Stephen Cottrell said she is “still in the saddle”, even though she could not attend. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex joined for their first royal event together since leaving the UK two years ago. Meanwhile, the Queen, 96, watched the service from Windsor Castle.
Well, the Royal Family members all look happy, don’t they? Charles has waiting so long to get the Throne I don’t think he’s up to it anymore. Hehehe!
I got some spuds boiling to make cheesy mash with.
Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…
Got the meal prepared and served up. Cheesy topped halved boiled potatoes, baked off to crisp the red Leicester cheese. Veggie sausages, baked beans with Henderson’s relish added, wholemeal cobs, tomatoes, and a banana.
Halfway through it and watching a Heartbeat episode on the box, I was in my element. The evening carer arrived. Chloe, nice gal. Got the meds sorted and had a little natter. She took the waste bag with her to the shoot for me. I locked the door and got back to finishing the not so hot meal. Dementia Doreen and number-cruncher Liberty Global’s Mr Fries are to blame for confusing me as to what time it was. Hehehe!
With its pink-tinged coloured streaky clouds, the sky looked absolutely amazing to me tonight. No doubt that Mother Nature is a beautiful beast! I can’t recall being so interested in the skies all my life.
We need to start straight away protecting this planet. We’ve polluted it uncaringly, not a thought for the future generations… if there is to be any. And all for gain and personal profit. So shadow-benders and number-crunchers like Mr Fries can earn $23 million a year, and Putin can do a Hitler in attacking other countries! Nowadays, he is doing it risk-free. No Americans to save the day for Ukraine, like they did for the UK, France, Poland etc., sad.
Got down in the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner on a mission to get some sleep. Huh! Well, I did, but it was hours later!
END OF THE WORLD THOUGHTS in Ode…
All tellurians have something in common – caducity!
Humans have greed, jealousy, egocentricity & abstrucity,
The majority get cheered from money, not true felicity…
They destroy the planet with great feracity…
Believe me, mankind has this ability, fruitfully…
To gain their lucre, they’ll use violence and feracity…
Every one of our nation’s leaders leads with lubricity!
I suppose this Ode reads with a certain mordacity?
So, let’s save the earth with haste and pertinacity!
Looking Back… In my 20’s, I was known for my efficient fecundity… Now due to Doreen’s Dementia, I fear discongruity, I was fit, capable, popular, lit up a room fulgently… The mind and body fail, leaving inefficacity, I was praised for my willpower and social feracity! Now, I am full of inconsequentiality, inferiority, Decisions were made, taken almost nonchalantly… Now my brain’s shared twixt dormancy, quiescently, The few decisions I make now, I do negligently!
The Ailments… The ailments increasing, I try to meet acceptingly. When they first started, I reacted rather petulantly… Some of the new ones give me hassle persistently, Glaucoma Gladys, Cartilage Cathy & Cataract Kathy, One that can be nasty is Peripheral Neuropathy… Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters can have me falling, Deaf Duane in both ears, Duodenal Donald, appalling! Saccades Sandra, makes me see blurry, The ankle gives way after the Stroke every day. Hard to keep my balance, but I recover gradually… The jumping away can have me off of the settee!
On Reflection… There’s no benefit in moaning and grumbling, If you’re going to go over, it’s only tumbling… How hard and where you fall can leave you bleeding… But a scrape and a bruise is the likeliest thing… Somehow, I get through them without hospitalising, I must have had more luck without realising… At five, I was thrown into the canal, nearly drowning, I’ve been shot twice and got a battering… How I’m still here is somewhat baffling…
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SATURDAY 28TH MAY
04:20hrs: After so many jumping awakes, I had my last one. I was fed up with not sleeping for more than ten minutes or so and got up for a wee-wee. Which proved to be the reason I stayed up…
① Getting the jammie bottoms untied to whip them down, I got in a right mess. The waste cord knot was not to be unknotted!
② There I was, fumbling to get the cord untied, and the pre-dribbling started! The embarrassment and panic of the warm wet sensation trickling down my inner legs and jammies made unlocking the knot even harder to get done… I gave up and forced things down… But there was worse to come…
③ I felt the pain as I got over the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and the bladder was hurting. It felt, to me, like a torrent as if a fireman’s hosepipe was being released… But no! On closer inspection, it was barely trickling, and what bit was coming out sprayed all over the place! But there was worse to come…
④ I saw the blood on my hands as I manipulated things to avoid my having splashes on the carpet.
⑤ Yes, Little Inches Fungal Lesion was bleeding; I suppose all the rushing and pulling to get the cord freed. A little naughty language was uttered. But there was more to come…
⑥ Due to the mixture of waste liquid and blood, I wiggled more than walked with the bucket to get it emptied and sanitised. As I got in the kitchen, I stubbed my toe on the server trolley wheel. But there was still more to come…
⑦ After cleaning the bucket, and getting another one with Dettol disinfectant, to clean up the overspray and spillages in the front room, I turned and knocked the Dettol bottle off the side of the sink. I’ve known one of those plastic bottles to split open before! Cleaned it up, and as if a robot… a disheartened robot, went to clean the front room. Which I managed without any further bother… until…
⑧ I went to take the jammies off and soak them in disinfectant and washing powder. And the need to visit the Porcelain Throne arrived. I wasn’t done with cock-ups yet…
⑨ I knocked my toe against the clothes airer’s wheel, and it was possibly the most excruciating stub ever! I could feel the bile rising now!
⑩ I got in and down on the seat, watching the blood drip from Little Inchies lesion, but there was no pain coming from it? More confusion! The evacuation was reluctant to start, so O got the cream and washed and ointmentated the lesion as I waited for the action to start, back onto the Throne. A sudden spurt, and it was all over in seconds… But what a mess to clean up! Almost liquid! So, I got on with the job, rinsed the jammie bottoms and put them back in a fresh bucket of antiseptic. Then I cleaned my nether regions and got new PPs (Protection Pants).
The relief when I’d got everything sorted was phenomenal. I even think I started singing… Cliff Richard’s ♫’The Young Ones’♫. I believe it was the first one.
I’d come out of it well, really. Apart from the fungal lesion now starting to hurt and Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging. The stubbed toe had died down, and I put the kettle on.
That was a rather nasty, severe start to the day, Believe it or not, the memory is now far away… I coped and managed, my recovery well underway, In fact, I’m pleased with myself, I can honestly say! I got through it all, my depression flewaway! Mind you, I’m expecting the next coming malady… There are bound to be more, as there is every day, No signs of my moaning-mopes left or paranoia! But the wee-wees stay, frequently with overspray… I genuinely think this may be a better Saturday!
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I got on the computer and loaded the pictures for yesterday’s blog updating and got it done. Very late now, and no carer yet? Ah, it’s the weekend, I forgot. Usually late Sat and Sun.
I took some photos, but the SD reader has gone on strike again, Humph!
Aha! This morning’s Carer was Sara! I was already cheered up with the disasters of this morning finishing; this gave me an extra boost in spirits, Sarah coming. A lovely gal likes a natter, and she is responsive. ☻♥ Got the medications sorted; Sarah always watches me take them if I drop any or one comes back up. She knows I’d likely not see or notice if they did, Bless her. I wish they all did that.
I said my farewells, and my mood lowered a smidgeon when she left, but it was still higher than for ages. I had considered going into a Smug-Mode with getting through the early morning cacophony of cock-ups… but resisted,
I’d better go on the WordPress Reader and comment section now.
How disappointing… Makes me sick!
Can’t get on WordPress Comments or save owt! I gave up and got some nosh made. Battered red potato fritters, tomatoes, veg burger and banana to follow. The cakes were too sweet for my taste, but I ate them all. Rated: 7.2/10.
My luck really is changing from this morning. Went to get the ablutions tended to; better late than never. Just one cut shaving, nowt serious, and few dropsies (razor x 2, toothbrush, loofah, and short-picker-upperer), but I had the short picker-upperer to hand. No knocks, dizziness, headbangs, toe-stubbing, Shaking-Shauns, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or shoulder charging the door frame!
Got dressed so I looked reasonably sane for when the Carer called. (I’ve made a vow not to be naked. Topless or bottomless again, when a nurse or Carer arrives! I’ve been caught with no trousers on by Nicola and no top on by Valerie up to now – Tsk!) I can lock the door and strip off after whoever comes has gone.
I tried the computer again, and it let me load some photographs to my delight. But VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen) is making it hard for me to recall the time when I took them, although some are obvious. I got them into CorelDraw to resize. And…
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in walked the evening Carer, Sarah (With an H). She soon sorted the medications, and I insisted she take a tipple and a nibble in; thanks to her. Which she did and took the waste bag out to the chute for me on her way
I locked the door and stripped off, feeling much easier now. Funny how all the cock-ups were got rid of in the early hours today; I’m pleased with that! Then got the photos; some I could remember were put on roughly chronologically. Others I’ll show here:
Obviously, I must have taken these two in the early hours, although I can’t remember taking them now?
VDD playing me up again. I suppose it is possible I got up during the night to take these? They cost me a lot of time tweaking to get them to be recognisable as what they are.
A mid-morning picture of the end car park on Chestnut Way, mayhaps, taken from the balcony, no doubt. I vaguely recall not being able to open the spring lock on the window and taking it through the glass pane.
I’m sure I had a paranoia moment with this one. I think I could see a face in the central cloud, but it seems to be hiding from me now. Such a shame. I could see a face and a monster in it on the right with this effort. At the time, I think another animal, but that too had been removed by VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen). This last one of the trio on the left, which held several pairs of eyes and noses when I took it, still does, but somehow far fewer are found?
Ah, the expensive sweet potato battered fritters meal. I did eat it all. But the oversweetness of the potatoes took the edge off it. I already wrote about this, haven’t I? Humph!
Proof of my dedication to losing some fat from my midriff area. Where folds of fat, as it wobbles at the slightest movement. This on the left; was my last inside photograph taken today. It shows my bravely self-imposed limit; I’m allowing myself to nibble chocolate! With crumbs dropped from my nocturnal nibblings in the £300 second-hand, ageing, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, cling in the channels of blubber.
No more supposedly well-intended, opening a bar of chocolate, working on the computer, thinking, “Ah, I’ll have another lump of that chocolate” – and finding it had all gone! No More – Never-Again! I have complete faith in my determination to lose weight from my substantively gross belly! Four pieces maximum from now on!
Sleep was stubborn and refused to allow me to nod off. Sweet Morpheus teased me as it got later, and would permit me to drift off, then minutes late startle into wakefulness with a jump! So, I got up and pottered about in the kitchen, taking photos of the changing evening view from the kitchenette window. I spotted some figures in clouds, particularly in the second photo. Not that I can see it now. Humph! Thanks, Doreen Dementia! The close up I took of the orange ribbon of light did not come out very well at all. But I’ve put it on anyway. To show the changing views on offer tonight. The last effort, about ten minutes after the one before, I did like it. Had more contrasting hues and colours, I thought. Back into the recliner, hoping to sleep…
But, Oh, No! Not a chance. So I looked at what was on the TV, and ‘Sudden Impact’, a Dirty Harry film with Clint Eastwood, was just starting. During the first set of commercials, I got some chip-sticks and a bottle of spring water to feast on, got back in the c1968 second-hand recliner, and settled to watch and enjoy the film. I love it when the goodies win! As the next set of adverts came on… Zzzz!
♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫
My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!
A simple nosh made for a simpleton, Who knows not what is a sextillion… Who passes wind, and creates a septon, Dementia has made his brain wanton… Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition… One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton, But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton… He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,
I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron? I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon! I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon? Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon… To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon! Even if it helped just as smidgeon… To slow down my deteriorating condition!
Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay, Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way… Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away… No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay… Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray, But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay… Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…
Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told, My mind refuses to be controlled… I’ve no virtues of being extolled… I’m not feeling very bold… Problems that need to be resolved? Why has my good-luck gland never evolved? Why have I never won a gold? No wonder my hopes have dissolved!
You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?
This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!
THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022
Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.
Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.
The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!
And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…
Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!
All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!
Needless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.
I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.
I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.
I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.
When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!
Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!
I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!
I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!
I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.
Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!
I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.
The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?
A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.
Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.
I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.
Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.
Ode To Hope
Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!
I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!
I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.
I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.
Turned on the computer…
Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…
I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.
This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!
From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.
The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.
Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!
When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…
2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.
I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.
I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?
I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.
I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.
I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.
The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.
Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!
Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…
I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.
Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.
Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!
Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.
I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.
After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!
Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!
Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.
It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.
I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!
Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.
I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…
I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!
4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.
So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!
Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.
I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!
17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!
Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy! I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.
Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.
Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.
I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.
Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!
This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.
But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!
ODE TO THE DAY
My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!
I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!
The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!
Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!
My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!
I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!
Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!
I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start? Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart… But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart, Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart? To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…
Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art! The socks removal will hurt in every leg part! Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered, By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked! Then the toothpaste to extract… Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact… Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!
Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!
Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!
You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction… The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication! Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation, It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!
Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering! It’s no good fearing, and cowering… It must be done, like an everyday thing! Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping… Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving… Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling… Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling… Then you often find yourself falling… But getting back up is more appalling and galling, Usually, you’ll drop things again… But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!
No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!
Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.
The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure, Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure! But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer… Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…
You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap, And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat… Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat! Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat! I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?
I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…
I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above, Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve, But incident rates will never improve… There is no to make things foolproof…
But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better! You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter! But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother… As antiseptics go, there is none betterer… It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver… Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!
You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.
Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped! Or even when you could risk being back slapped, Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped… It’s important for you to be able to adapt!
You’ll only compare things, with now and then, Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen? Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen! In fact, they have been known to bring on depression! Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten? Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when? The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then! But such days will never return again… Have you still got love letters, written with a pen? The name of your very first kitten? Or the first dog by which you were bitten?
When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian… Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten… But many of them inspire things you think were rotten! Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven? Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?
There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision… Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression, Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician… Or mayhaps, more like a politician? That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician… Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision, Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician? I might be better off with a dietician or magician?
Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying, Two Phacoemulsification operations or something, Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes… Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye, But worrying about it is not very wise Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,
So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age, The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage… Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage! The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge… £200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage… £50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge… An entrance fee if you have to use the triage… Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average… £40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages… Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage… Visitors can have a variable-priced massage… Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!
After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.
One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.
I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.
Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?
I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!
The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!
This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.
It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?
I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged
I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.
All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.
Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.
I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.
A little early to use the noisy shower yet.
And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.
I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.
The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!
I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!
The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.
I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.