I woke after what I believed was a six-hour dream, and the memory of the ‘Gone-Missing-Laundry’ came to mind; as I was getting depressed and morbid at the prospects of having no dressing gowns, spending a fortune to replace them and the throws that may turn up, or likely will never will, and the email from the bank asking for confirmation and why I have bought the same things that I~~ did three months ago…
Then the real worry came to me. Wearing trousers for the Brain Scan at the hospital which is going to produce at least agony to poor Little Inchy as the catheter tube pulls and tugs again his fungal lesion. Next, the thought of having no dressing gown to change into and get out of the pain-giving trews when I get home to relieve the pain hit me… Argh!
A Mild Depression Dawned!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – When I forced my tormented body and mind to rise from the depths of the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, I found that the Catheter punch contents were…
. At the highest level of colouration on the chart. .
I think there may be a slight chance, remote possibility, hundred-to-one shot, that today may not be a good one. Then again, when was my last good day? was not too hopeful of finding my ‘taken-away-to-be-laundered clothing’. The chances, must be slim, but she did say she’d have another look around for me.
Found my laundry. But no throws in there.
Morning: CorelDraw not letting me add any photos. Trouble getting into WP. Mousee taking me left & right, not up and down? Fearing the worse here…
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Heck of a shock here today! The NHS input site advised me to ring NHS 111 starlight away, So I did!
But they were too busy and told me to visit the NHS 111 site. So, I did.
An hour later, I filled in the questions asked & guessed at the choices made.
Sent it off and was told someone would contact me later. They are very busy, and this may take some time, be patient. So, I did!
I went to make a brew, and the telephone rang – I was surprised I heard it in the kitchen, but, there you are, I did.
Answered many questions and had to guess at a few. The nurse had an accent, and the kine was not good, so it took a time to review all the needed details. Ultimately, she decided that the SYSs 128, and 119, with respective DIAs 57 and 59, were okay? This despite the NHS monitoring site telling me it was Too Low and to ring 111?
Don’t feel too confident about this. But then again, it’s unsurprising; they are the lowest readings I’ve ever had?
Well, the lowest B~P readings ever, advised to ring 111 – told to go online, spent ages sorting required details. Told it was okay. And earlier, this above when I woketh up. Similar farces these two. If the blood in the wee is level 6 or 7, I’m supposed to ring 111 – Ha!
I was woken up (Didn’t get settled until around 04:00hrs) and was woken by the arrival of Carer Sam. I was half out of it, having just been stirred reluctantly back to life. Think we had a chinwag, and Sam took the washing nada waste bag on her way out. Thank you.
Porcelain Throne visited, cleaned up the kitchen, dropped the milk bottle, and stubbed my toes again. The brain was not too interested in being creative and went on strike a few times when I got nothing done whatsoever; just seemed to sit here thinking but not knowing why or what of?
The yes were still bad, and concentration as well.
Dizzy Dennis, The Kathleen Catheter tube, and Anne Gyna all gave me bother of some sort. I really was only half here for many hours. Scary! Sort of light-headed, I suppose… mind you, I still am now seven hours later.
Lost the camera but found it a few hours later, hidden in front of me to the right of the computer – How the hell did I miss that?
Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down.
I made a brew and fell asleep for a while…
A while? Four bloody hours!
Carer Jo-Anne arrived; I was still a bit vague about things.
After the gal left… Ah, it was Jo-Anne I think that tool the washing? I could be wrong; of course, it has been known.
No sunset tonight. Boo!
Found the camera.
Lost the eye drops.
Sadly no chance of any sunset tonight… Sob!
Took early evening shots.
A couple of hours late, these…
Very little snow left now
Then got the soup and put the potatoes and soya bits in with it, then the seasoning. But could not find the mint sauce? Are a lot of things disappearing today?
Looking okay to me.
Blogging for another hour or two. Got about ten minutes’ worth of work done, Huh!
Carer Ayowoke arrived. The first time I’d seen him. Nice lad. He gave me a roster for next week, no Carer Richard in it! I asked if he knew anything about Richard, but he did not know him.
Did some more effort on this blog, but I still can’t get my head around the NHS telling me to ring NHS 111, and then eventually, telling me to log onto the web with NHS 111. After having to log in all my details, telling me that the Blood Pressure figures were okay?
I got the nosh on and served up. Another part-canned meal. A can of Asda Chunky Lamb & Vegetable soup. Couldn’t find the mint sauce to add to it, I think maybe it may have gone out of date? (Spit!) Added vegetable stock and some Pertranic, Cooked & sliced potatoes, just one finger knick!. Soy bacon thingies added; the final bit… Wholemeal rolls for me to dunk and dip! And soon, I’d demolished it! Eating every morsel and bit! Flavour Rating: 705/10.
The late Carer was Carole-Anne. Still no . We had a mini natter & laugh. Refreshing!
I woke up as my ginormously flabby body hit the floor! Landing conveniently on my bottom, but rather, unfortunately, the burst open . It was the mess of sorting things out that got to me rather than the bleeding itself. Handily, it was almost easy to get me back up on my bloated feet and legs… The first job was to check . I placed some paper towels inside the Protection Pants first, then looked over the pouch, grippers and tubing. All seems to be still attached.
Off to the wet room, giving the door frame a mini shoulder-charge as I went in. That hurt more than anything else did. Hehehe! I didn’t fret about this being half asleep; I expected that , and would cause me some problems. Even joined in with an . Only a little one, but enough for me to knock the Germoloid, Daktacort and Savlon creams off of the floor cabinet. Then after the haemorrhoids were treated… the always ‘Painful-Job’ of Cleaning up and ointmentationing !
After a multitude of Argh! – Ouches, curse words and loathings, and a moment of ‘Why Me Mate’ emotions, it was done.
I was amazingly calm and physiological about things… at least, I think I was? That’s probably not the word I should have used? It could have been a sign of my acceptance of the circumstances or my rotten luck? I may have been sick to the back teeth (mind you, there’s only one of them left in the mouth now) of hearing myself moan and whining on about my inabilities, ailments, frustrations, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, eyesight, hearing, Cathy Catheter pains, shortage of pouches, and the seemingly never-ending Bladder-Infection. Being bald, overweight, Duodenal Donald, Little Inches Phimosis and fungal lesion, Peripheral Neuropathy, having two strokes, being shot twice, scared shit of going in water. Now, there’s the , and the . The palpitating of the mechanical ticker. The almost persistent No help attainable for things like the computer and letters that are either too small or complicated for me to hear, see or understand? This will, I assume, be due to the attention gleaned of… .
Asda order arrived. . Pondered on whether to have casserole for a nosh? Put the rest of the fodder away. Fridge before and after delivery. Note that it is not full! Tried the Vegan butter later. It didn’t spread well, but tasted grand!
Took some more view photos of the light snowfall. See
above… Not the houses, which I reckon must either have
a Cannabis farm in the loft, that, or they are so rich
that they can afford to heat the attic? Hehehe!
The footfall in the snowfall, in the bottom field.
Later, a man and his dog caught my attention. Well, it was the wildly wagging tail of the dog mainly. Boy, that dog loved the snow!
During the day, I had the attention of Carer Josef, Carer Adele, also & I think Carer Carolynne. But since the arrival of any name could well be the wrong one.
Sorry about that!
The snow gave us another covering.
Throne visit six attended. Every one of the previous sessions were a watery-gurgling mess. This one was the complete opposite.. lost out to the new King of the Throne’s return – ! followed the evacuation.
Then, I walked into the door frame on my way out... And pulled the tubing that was stuck in Little Inchie. Naturally, this left poor . Undaunted by this mini-series of S, I made a refreshing mug of Thompson’s Punjana tea… Taking the first drink of it at the computer, gave me a nudge, and the mug and tea dropped from my grasp! Of course, I took this in my usual casual, calm, devil-may-care-but-not-me nonchalance. . I was close to crying with frustration!
I made the meal of the day… I’d forgotten about the potatoes in the slow cooker. Not that
I needed them; I’d gone a smidge.OTT without them. The plant butter on the bread rolls tasted wonderful.
Did a bit on this blog, mostly getting things wrong, lost all concentration as my eyes failed, and my head drooped. I gave up!
Problems a few, well, really quite a load…
Accifauxpas, bleeding, no real Smug-Mode…
Noisy Herbert, getting on my goad…
Memory blanks, mistakes made? A shitload!
I had to look up my own postcode!
The Thought-Storms constantly flowed…
Wee-weeing? The bucket nearly overflowed!
Stabbed myself with a toothbrush up my nose,
Will it get worse, discommode? Nobody knows…
What evils and stupidity Satan may bestow?
I’ll have a mug of tea and a marshmallow!
Haveth a great day!
05:30hrs, the usual jumping awake, with a verbal “Uhrge!” arrived. I pondered a few seconds to check on the time, day and need to activate the brain to join the body into some form of starting.
My hazy and befuddled brain sorted itself out in a fashion, and I decided to get the sphygmomanometerisationing done first thing. The grey plastic was half-filled before I started this slash. By the time I’d escaped the c1966 recliner, the need for a wee-wee had developed. And the urine flowed and splashed at a rate and pace never known before! How I held onto the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), I don’t know. But obviously, I had been wee-weeing throughout the night.
I still can’t work out how someone in my condition can free themselves from the recliner, take the few paces to the bucket, pass water (ferociously!) and get back down again… even once, and yet, not know he’s done it; when he wakes up? Someone must understand this. A psychologist or somebody? Which followed nearly every one of the wee-wees that followed today, and there were dozens of them! No wonder I can feel the dampness in the protection pants of the damned PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).
There was much handling of things in washing and cleaning; poor Little Inchies’ fungal lesion started bleeding again later on. Humph!
I finally got around to taking the Blood Pressure. A fine set of figures they were too! SIA 144, DIA 48 and Pulse at 72… No, hang on. The DIA’s a good bit low… I’ll check it out.
No, that’s not too bad, only just in the red area anyway. For some reason, the low DIA brought it up overall a smidgeon. I’ve had it a lot worse than that. Last week one day, it was Sys 171, so I’m not fretting.
I used my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The result was a bit higher this time, almost on the target figure of 35!
All went well, apart from the teeth cleaning, which was bloody. Thanks to ailment number eleven, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. As it did two days ago when she made me drop the mug of Glengettie, her timing was cruelly well-timed. I was about to put the brush in my mouth, and she struck! Despite it being the brush end than entered my nasal channel, it was so fierce that it brought blood. However, it could have been worse, and I soon dried it up. A bit sore now, though, Hehehe!
I started updating yesterday’s blog, and Carer Richard arrived. The poor lad didn’t look too good; he was obviously weary, worn out, tired at the end of his shift. I brought him around a smidgeon with some nattering and a laugh or two, as much as was possible. I think his blood count was low. He said on leaving, he’s going to take his own medicines and get his head down as soon as he gets home. He still had a chinwag, though; I appreciated that from the man. Bade him good luck and health as he left, taking the taste bags with him for me to the chute.
I then spent hours trying to get the Card Reader to work to get the photos on the computer. I was at the limit of my patience and know-how of what else I could try… and wallah! The card suddenly returned to working mode? Although there have been odd, weird times when it tells me the reader is not recognised. So frustrating, I lost hours on the day messing about, turning everything off and back on, the card in and out of the slot… swearing, and at one point, I almost cried!
Eventually, I got the blog finished and posted it off to WordPress. Thank heavens for that!
Time for a mug of Glengettie!
I took these photographs of the view from the kitchenette window. The first one to the left (South), the second down almost straight ahead (East), finally one to the right (North)
I pressed on with starting this blog going. It was concentrating mind…
My sociable, kind, understanding, compassionate, snotty-nosed neighbour above started his clunking, banging noises with some venom. I think he’s realised he was not so bad yesterday and is making up for it?
I stopped to make a brew of Glengettie, wrapping the tea bag up and placing it in the small waste bag; this is what I saw (on the right here). My initial reaction was… Argh!Another Boll Weevil! Oh dearie me! Out came the sprays, and the kitchen got a good covering in all corners and every hidey-hole or corner that I could get at!
I got what I thought was the offending animal out of the bag – but I could not see if it was a weevil or something else, thanks to Cataracts Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra.
Well, well, well! Another cock-up made yesterday, discovered! Tsk! I looked at the watch, then the clock. A difference in time showing? I’d forgotten to put the clock forwards with all the others, but a true Masterstroke-Whoopsiedangleplop with the new square, easier-to-see wristwatch! I’d put that backwards instead of forwards!!! Humph! It took me a while to work out what time it was now! So, I now have no idea when I got up this morning.
The sky turned into a bright blue; I’m glad I caught it with the Canon cause minutes later, it had turned back into a bright pale blue shade. It turned out to be a decent effort, I thought for once.
I took a photograph of the Chestnut Way end car park. It appears that the Red Van Man has not used his vehicle since yesterday. Hope he’s not poorly. Time to get some fodder organised.
The evening carer arrived and soon had the medicationalisationing sorted out. Took the waste bag with her to the chute for me on her way out.
I took an easy option tonight. Cooked some mushrooms with balsamic vinegar, squid sauce and chillies powder. (Not as ad as it sounds as it turned out, Hehe!) I sliced some lovely yellow tomatoes and forced myself to cut up some of the sickeningly bitter, foul-tasting Moroccan red tomatoes. Added the last of the ‘Batter bits’, a small apple and a banana. A Lemon and Lime M&S yoghourt that needed a mortgage to buy. And tucked into the feast… Oh, and of course, with the two hot dogs with BBQ sauce added. Flavour rating 7.2/10.
I went to Washed the pots, then me, Putting the trousers back on afterwards by mistake for the jammie bottoms! Tsk!Then settled to watch my favourite TV show, ‘Heartbeat’.
I couldn’t enjoy the programme properly, cause Colin Cramps visited my left hand and fingers. Never known him to be so painful and persistent!
Unbelievably, Colin Cramps stopped tormenting me the very moment that the end credits rolled for ‘Heartbeat’. Ah, well!
I rose for a wee-wee, and boy, had I taken some over the day! On the bright side, Little Inchies lesion was not bleeding. Check the taps (faucets) and electrics, and I got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner.
The Thought-Storms kicked off straight away. They dragged things from over sixty-plus years ago; my errors, bad choices, failures… on and on, they kept coming! Some I had actually forgotten about altogether… they had to be mused over. I’ve no idea why; it only made me more depressed.
Out of desperation for sleep and to escape the storming, I turned the TV back on. Which worked… but at the same time, Colin Cramps attacked again in the same hand!
I think it was gone midnight again before I managed to nod off. Well, that’s not exactly right. I realised I’d not taken the Hemp capsule again! I nodded off many times, but only for a minute, then I’d shoot awake again.
At least the Thought Storms had given up on me, only to be replaced with Self-Hating-Harvey. I suppose that Dementia Doreen is at the route of things…