THE SUICIDAL TORY FUTURE
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Got bedded down last night, well, this morning at around 03:20hrs, and low & behold, was waiting, ready to start again. But I did get off eventually and had nearly three hours of bliss. I would have stayed in the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner for longer; Unfortunately, Dementia Doreen’s compatriot,
, convinced me on waking, that it was Monday! So I thought I had a delivery coming between 7 & 8, and it was already 07:15hrs; a semi-panic-mode was engaged and I got up in a bit of a rush; Dizzy Dennis visited, lost balance, and I sat down again, with a foggy head.
Then I realised it was Sunday…
The Night Pouch
At first glance, I thought I’d been mysteriously passing spaghetti through Little Inchie and
. Hehehe! Too dark a colour.
The legs look a little rough again.
No pains with them, yet.
Got some spuds in the crock pot.
Then felt the need for the
.
Well,
was done after three days. But of course
meant a mess to clean up.
Waste Bags Sorted.
Carer Rahmat arrived. Did the issuing of the medications, eye drops, painkillers & Peptac were given. A little natter, which I appreciated. Took her BP and temperature. Very good, see above.
I felt so different again this morning. Plain weary, but the balance was much better. I got on with the mammoth job of catching up on yesterday’s blogging. Things started annoyingly…
Amazingly, I changed the Wi-Fi option and it came back! Very slow work this time. I feared I might even fall asleep in the computer chair. I must try to get some decent sleep in.
I was amazed again, at how the time flew by – it was the midday call already. The blog was making progress, slowly. Rahmat at last accepted a drink I offered a choice of. Bless her!
Got the blog posted at long last. And made a start on the Ode for today’s Inchy Today. I think it took me over three hours, and then later I found spelling mistakes in it. , I think my concentration was getting far worse the more tired I got.
Still, could be worse… couldn’t it?
Still struggling with the editing, and I forgot all about taking any photos until early evening. I’d been nibbling; in fact, I ate all of the remaining Le Petit bikkies!
A banana, a choc ice, an orange ice lolly, and as of now 19:10hrs, I’ve not made or wanted a mug of Glengettie?
This is singularly worrying. It’s never happened before? Could it be the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchie to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare, worry and confuse me!
Very peculiar situation. Not only not drinking tea, but failing to take photos of the clouds for my pareidoliaing!
I took a snap of the afternoon sky and grabbed another orange lolly from the freezer. Hahaha!
Bootiful!
Continued with the blog for several slow-moving hours, and went to take photographs of the later evening. I was struggling then and
were making it difficult for me to control the camera and use the selection buttons, but I had to give up.
Carer Benjamin arrived. I hadn’t heard him, cause even if I had hearing aids in, I couldn’t hear the dooorchime when in the kitchen or wetroom. He was right behind me and made me jump a smidge. Which brought a much-needed smile. He’d been standing there a while and noticed how I was struggling with the Kodak. He whipped out his mobile phone and took these photos for me, bless his cotton socks.
Then a closer shot of the houses.
That was kind of Benjamin.
So I took a snap of the lad.
Offered a cold drinkie in thanks, and he got the medications sorted. Then the eye drops were put in. He’s a clever lad, and noticed the shaking in my… well, all over really. Hehehe!
He’ll be back, just like Arnie, later for the Catheter night bag fitting. After Benjamin departed, I got on with updating this blog, to here. But mental fatigue, mistake-making and lack of sleep made me stop. I hope I’ll be back later too.
Took this shot of the attractive early-night clouds.
Did some more blogging catch-up, and then Carer Benjamin returned for his last visit. During which, he took this shot with the Kodak, of the scratches & bruises on the left leg 0 which must have been acquired, Thursday, on the last of the falls, I’d not noticed, but sharp-eyed Benjamin did.
.
He also noticed that the leg was swelling up, compared to the state of the right one. One battered body, one distorted brain,
hearing problems, seeing problems, money running out at a fast rate, ,
problems;
bleeding at the point of entry of the catheter tube.
is visiting much more often lately, and the previously nocturnal only
, is now apparently on a new 24/7 roster. My
are scarily getting more frequent… the mind seems to just lose blocks of time altogether, and forever. None have ever come back to me, and those hours or minutes remain a mystery? Maybe this
is making things worse?
Just thought I’d mention them. To help whippersnappers who just may read this, to know what they can expect. So, keep on with the cannabis; it helps. (Guilt developing!)
I bedded down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner. But refused to let me sleep, even
gave me a few sharp awakenings. I got up a few times, and wobblingly carried
and
to the kitchen to take some photos of the night skies
Sunset, taken earlier.
Blissful!
Later it looked like I had a monster on the horison.
A long time later, the monster was still there?
Back to try to sleep again, and I realised how little had been passed urine-wise, into the night pouch.
Took a photo with the flash on…
.
A perfect colour though. Bet it will have darkened by morning.
Not sure when I managed to get to sleep. But recall that had me wakened twice, all the other jerking-awakes were due to
.
May Your Fortunes and Festivities Ferment with Good Food too!