All night long, wee-weeing, most often with less than a minute in between! Every one painful, but barely a trickle came out: Compared to yesterday evening and this morning, were poles apart, directly opposed to each other! At least I did have a good morning on Monday, and I got some sleep in. It was the rest of the day’s events that went all pear-shaped on me.
I gave up the early hours of trying to get to sleep. There were a few occasions when, by the time that I got back in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, grungy, pukin gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, grungy, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 moth-eaten, pukingly-beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, I had to get up again for another 2 fluid ounces worth of weeing! If that much! It was driving me crazy. The computer stood there, tempting me to get on it. But the way I felt, there was no way I could concentrate.
Then the feeling of cold and shivering-like sensations came over me. I don’t think I was sweating; it felt more like some Herbert walking over my grave? Then as I was typing this in the morning, well, late afternoon, I realised I must have gone on about this dilemma when doing the updating of the Tuesday blog. So decided that repetition is not a good idea. It may result in a reduced the huge, vast number of followers and readers of my blog. And they are both such nice people.
Again, the only things I can recall are what was written in the memory notepad. So it’s unlikely to be one of my more detailed dairies, sorry. Although some bits are clearish in the grey cells. Esther’s visit to do the laundry and overcharge me again. The Evening Carer, Carolynne, my, leaving two taps running! And my burning the meal. But at least up to now, the wee-weeings were a lot less than yesterday and this morning. Still, next to nothing coming out, mind you.
One thing that didn’t change, was my feeling so cold all day. Brrr!
I took the extra clothing off and replaced it with other heavy-duty gear. Started composing the ode to last night’s farce. I took me hours & hours. Most of it was spent correcting errors.
Took these views from the kitchenette window. One, the bottom was of the car park on Chestnut Way, in the block of flats.
Where I’m feeling so sorry for missen. No help
with sorting out things I cannot read from the Coppice Hospital. Now this new bug or whatever it is.
I did eventually get the Ode done. But now I don’t think it is any good.
Depressed again… but nothing like on Tuesday.
It must be Sods Law: Just when I needed the calmingness and help of my friend and, ; He gets put onto another site. He helps by going the extra mile, which is comforting, and much-appreciated help. Especially now that Doreen Dementia is getting at me more and more. I feel a bit cheated in a way. All self-pity I think. You could not believe the things I could no longer do for myself. not to mention , , I’d better not forget, , and the potentially lethal killer; . they can have me over in a flash if I bang them in a . Even the can cause problems when I start to panic, rushing back inside to check if the lights, taps or the stove has been left on. Ah, that reminds me! This very day, I left two hot water taps running. Burnt the shoulder and left the potato in the crockpot for eight hours. I’m not diving up[ on this, its that late in the morning again, I’ll do a rescue job on them -microwave, for breakfast.
The morning carer failed to issue the Omeprazoles. (Anne Gyna) Not hod fault, it was mine. I was nattering away giving him my sob story from yesterday. While he was prepping of the medications. I’d usually hold back on the nattering until the meds are sorted. But not this morning. I was so uptight with bladder trouble and no sleep for two nights.
Why am I up now? It’s nearly 02:00hrs already
I’ll stop now and try to rescue the food. Thankfully, I lost two hours of whatever I did.
The evening Carer arrived. Checked the taps for me; not many of them do that.
Then, the ankle ulcer started to smart a bit. But it didn’t look inflamed? Then everything stopped again.
EVERY TWO MINUTES, WEE-WEES RETURNED AND STAYED ALL NIGHT UNTIL AROUND 09:00HRS IN THE MORNING. THEY THEN GOT WORSE!!! HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS FOUND ON THE FILE. Mud Slide in Car Park. Long story, but I’m. struggling to type. Three days without sleep now.. Not feeling good. the wee-weeing continues. I pass one; they are all so painful… And two minutes later need another. Took an extra Furosemide, hoping it. may help me to pass.
No Help for Cataract or Mental Hospital Appointments Came
THAT’S MY LOT! – SO TIRED! ONE POORLY IN-PAIN PEASANT HERE
05:00hrs: I have never woken up like this before. The bursting back into imitation life was so violent, my whole body, and there’s a lot of it, you know; jumped up and landed back on the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable recliner, and the second I realised that poor were bleeding, another problem arose. The need most necessitous need for the , this became crucially obvious. No leg stretching or balance exercises were considered. In fumbling-bumbling fashion, I somehow got myself to the wet room in what must have been a record time for me. I’ve no idea how I held things back in rush to get there on time, but I did! and I believe warranted in this case. Although as I sat there as the evacuated produce squelched its own way out, I became aware of a pain in the left foot , and I assumed I must have stubbed it en route, but in my panicky haste to get to the Throne, hadn’t realised it. No extraordinary pong or bleeding either, and also, there was no input needed from me. Why I almost enjoyed it! This incident had taken my mind off of the disasters suffered yesterday. But as I washed and got changed into the day clobber, the memory of the hospital letter came to the fore, and I worried about how I was going to cope and not make mistakes with it. I got cleaned and ointmentated. I was definitely in a better frame of mind than I was yesterday, but naturally, I was still worried about coping with the Cataract instructions, arranging the Easy-Lift both ways, can I find out what time to pick me up afterwards, have I got to use one of those listed in the letter transporters? How can get someone to go with me that doesn’t cost a fortune? Now, I’m getting myself worked up for nothing. Because there is nothing that can be done until Monday… and that’s if I can get through to anyone. Humph!
is starting to give me what for now. If joins in, I don’t think I’ll be any good for anything then.
I got on with updating the Friday blog. With all the details of the farces that took place and the worrying letter etc., Believe it or not, it took me a further nine hours to get it done! And then, before I made a start on this one! I fell a little and my thoughts got me feeling again.
Arrived and was in a positive mood. I feel my telling her about yesterday’s farces, and the Cataract letter should not have been mentioned. I think I must have sounded like an ineffective whinging old man! Which, fair enough, I am! But no need for me to advertise the fact is there. Sam asked me if she wanted me to ask… I’ve forgotten her name now, but the new lady in charge at Meridian Health and Care; to call and see me on Monday. My EQ warned me of staggering upcoming charges at this point. But I’m stumped; how can get free help? Sam selected her bottle in thanks, and Sam took the two waste bags with her to the chute for me. ♥
Many hours later, still, I was still updating the Friday burlesque happenings when the landline rang. It was my neighbour and friend Jenny. She is on Virgin Media, and she told me that she’d received an email telling her that the internet would go down on Wednesday, 2nd November, for maintenance work. She knew I was on Virgin and let me know in case they hadn’t informed me. I found out later they had not let me know. This all adds to the frustrations. I mentioned the Cataracts are being done on the 1st of November, so I may not be able to use the internet for several days until the eye cover comes off. That was kind of her. Thanks, Jenny! ♥
In fact, I started to feel a little out of it after doing some more work and finally getting the blog sent off. Afterwards, I tried to get into the WP reader. Oh, I’m in… but will it let me post comments and likes? I’ll give it a go? Grrreat! I Got on! Better get the Health Checks done, then. It is getting late. The evening carer is due soon. Better get the sphygmomanometerisating done. Better late than never. You never know; the BP might be lower now? We shall see…
It was lower as well! Close to the Amber Zone, no less! Only just in the Hypertension Red-1!
I put some imitation slices in the oven on a lowish heat.
And in came Chloe. Told her, not moaningly though, of the problems I have with the Doctors visit and the Cataract 8-page letter of instructions that merely confuses me. Also, getting the cash to pay for the lifts and which service I am allowed to use, then booking them. I’ll only have one day come Monday, to sort it all. Then I’ve got to locate the two departments I’ve to go to? Pre-Assessment Clinic, then the East Day Cases Unit Outpatients Clinic! Chloe did the medications and said she would also remind their boss, Tina, that I needed help. I insisted she chose a drink in thanks. She took the waste bag with her when she left. Telling me not to worry. Not to worry? Me? Mission impossible nowadays, that is. Haha!
Then, yet another problem came to my attention. I found that I’d got an Asda-Walmart order due for Wednesday, the 2nd of November, the cataract repair day! WHAT NEXT? So, I changed the order day on the web. It took me a while to work out how to do it. But, within an hour or so, I’d got it moved to Thursday. Worra life!
Added these evening photos of the amazing sunset, all taken within half an hour. The rapidly changing scenes were brilliant.
Dearie me, Then I whiffed a smell of burning… the food in the oven!!!
I got the slices hacked free of the oven tray and got the pan in the sink in bleach, washing up liquid and soda. Got the burnt offering slices and some fries from a packet on two paper plates and took them through to the computer. Pulled out the drawer and ate the burnt offerings while working on this blog. Not a wise decision after losing a tooth eating the same thing last night! But I got away with it.
Then the job of cleaning the oven, kitchen and pan had to be done. Was again reluctant.
I was deep in the Land-of-Nod; burst forth from the door chime, I wriggled with embarrassment in the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, bleak, crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner0 Realising I had not unlocked the door, I rose up onto my feet, a little too quickly and, fell back down into the recliner, and poor old paid the price, as they started to trickle out warm blood into the Protection Pants. I was well pleased I had them on! Even poorer, Car Richard has to wait so long for me to get to the door (Sorting the piles and new pants on); I thought he might ask me if he could have a shave. Hahaha! He’d waited that long to get in!
Things were hectic, and so much going wrong; I didn’t even start this blog until Wednesday. The many problems start here, but will be in the short form to save time, else I’ve never gotten around to doing today’s blogs started either!
Richard seemed in and out quickly today, but of course, I was and got more confused as the day went on. Humph! After Richard had gone (A lot of writhing on the memory pad about Richards’s visit, but was unreadable). Got the Health Checks done. , and got dressed, mostly in a haze. I found a few later on. Mug of tea and started the Ode for Tuesday. (Which, I’ve only just finished 05:00hrs Wednesday Morning!!!
The doctor phoned: Told her of the Paramedics and the Gyna. Lansoprozole Capsule to be increased straight away, 15 to 30ml. She told me to call the Surgery reception and book a Face to Face meeting regarding the results of the Severe Frailty Test. It sounded like an order from Hitler and had a tinge of a threat in it? Hahaha! The problem now; is to get hold of ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, to ask for help phoning. Also, is the left arranged for the Covid booster jab?
So, I rang Deana to ask about the lift first, and hose said she’ll ring Easy-Lift… is that their name? To ring me back, must remember to ask her to call the wack to make a face-to-face meeting.
I took the photos on the left here while making a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. A lot of vehicles parked up this morning.
I have a bit of a possible Memory Blank here. What bit of writing there is on the notepad is ridiculously deciphered, scrawled and unintelligible.
I vaguely recall going to the Porcelain Throne for a second time, but have no idea; how things went.
The next thing readable on the memory prompt pad was that the intercom flashed It was the Asda food order that had arrived. Five substitutions; one was sent back, Chicken sauce for BBQ? Most of Richard’s treats had arrived. Beef in black bean sauce. An eight-pack of tangy Cumberland sausages. Glad I got the belly pork for Richard; I know he said how much he liked them, hope I got the right flavour. The Lemon Soya desserts look interesting; they have a long date on them, so I’ll eat the vegan lemon yoghourts first. The new 7-Mediterranean Vegetable sauce with basil came, but I have doubts about my decision to try this one. Just a feeling that I’ll not like it? Had to make do with BBQ sauces of brands substituted that I’ve never tried as well. A feeling I’ve eased my money here!
The bag of small potatoes didn’t look too fresh. I’ll try them tomorrow, all being well. But I’ve my doubts over how fresh they are and will last? I’ll ask Richards, if he comes, to check the dates for me.
Got the things stored away in the fridge and cupboards. Drank the cold tea.
And meandered into the balcony to take a snap of the end car park again.
Wowser! The spiders from somewhere had been busy. I took a close-up view of the car park. Three vehicles, one parked perfectly and two not so perfectly. Hehe!
Then, I foolishly took out the SD card from the Lumix camera and put it in the reader to download later.
I took the mug to be washed. I’d left the window open, and I must have had 40 or 50 meat flies of varying sizes in the kitchen Heck of a time-consuming effort to get rid of them!
ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, just married Warden Deana phoned to say she had arranged the lift for the Covid booster on the 20th, and the Diabetes Riverside for the 28th, Bless her cotton socks. I asked if she could also call the Quack for a Face to Face meeting for the results of the Frailty Assessment on the 24th. She kindly said she would come up later.
Then, my bugbear, as it is to thousands of other idiots who unknowingly joined Virgin Media: Before Liberty-Global, led by the smoke & mirrors, number-crunching, blurring of facts & figures, hocus-pocus, nod & a wink, mumbo-jumbo, misleading $23.6m a year, plus bonuses and an expense account salaried Mike Fries bought-out Virgin Media. And has done such a clinically-perfect job of destroying the previously good reputation of the company by proving does not have the know-how or qualities to get a signal to Nottingham for a whole day! In fact, LIBERTY-Global Virgin Media goes down diurnally! Today three times, for a total of approximately four & a half hours! Sad, pathetic! But of course, I believe there is a larger reason for this miserable performance. Chicanery, double-speaking and thaumaturgy-practising financial manipulators such as Fries is bound to have another plan that will make even more money for Liberty-Global. That is, if Virgin Media last long enough. Or maybe that’s part of his underhand scheme and design for them to go bankrupt?
ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie arrived. Without their help, I’d be in the right pickle & mess! ♥
Sinead arrived; I was half asleep at the time after having to close down the computer after Mr Fries’s inability to get a signal through to Nottingham again shone miserably through… I’d nodded off! She is a lovely gal who always cheers me up when she comes. We had a natter and laugh about nothing and everything. I insisted on nibble giving, in thanks. Sinead took the waste bags with her when she left. I do appreciate a few minutes to chinwag and laugh with the carers, you know. But I can do I not push it. Went to get a meal started, and I took this rather decent snap of the evening view.
Aha! I got the meal cooked, but not without an of sorts, and a realisation that the Asda brown cobs were unbelievably crap! The thing that pee’d me off most, though, was when I put the NoMeat meat slices in the oven, I thought, “Ah, that’s an idea; I’ll spray some olive oil onto them as I put them in the oven.” Not a good idea; I discovered it too late! When it came to taking out the NoMeat slices, they had seemingly welded and concreted into the oven tray! There followed a series of & , what literally amazed even me; and I’m the famously unlucky one, but I was amazed at how many came within minutes of each other!
① I burnt several finger ends chiselling out the NoMeat from the reluctant-to-let-them-go tray. ② Put the tray in the sink to soak and realised that the black coating on the tray had lost lumps of whatever it was painted on them. I thought I was rather cunning here and put the slices; well, they were bits by then in the microwave to keep warm. It took me ages to get the bits of black stuff off of them. Still, a ! ③ Wrapped up the burnt-up, misshaped tray in a few bags and put them in a big waste bag to go down the chute in the morning. As I turned back towards the sink… It only lasted a few seconds, but was enough to have me over! ④ I’d learnt from past tumbles in the kitchen that by far the easiest… no, least painful way to get back up is using the front of the sink with both hands and hauling myself back onto my feet that way. So I did! ⑤ However, as I struggled to heave the body mass up, the left hand slipped and went into the sink with the dirty water, bleach and soda in it I’d used to try and clean the tray with. If you know anyone who would like a partly-disintegrated pyjama top or bleach-shredded bottoms, let me know, please. ! ⑥ I ditched the pyjamas, wrapped them up in two bags, and then into a larger one to go to the chute in the morning. Humph! Reset the timer on the microwave that was keeping the slices warm; they looked passable on this check. ⑦ As I was changing into new PPs, I smelt something not right… I’d left the beans on the heat in a saucepan! ⑧ Into the kitchen and added some citric acid to the beans, with some passata, crenellated, and stirred the beans to break them up. Burning the same two fingers that I burnt in the oven tray! Cleaned and applied some Germolene. ⑨ I managed to salvage some of the beans and sauce. But had to add another small can and mixed them in. Got the meal served up, and it didn’t look too bad. I thought I’d done a decent job of rescuing things…
⑩ Until it came to eating it. Instantly, at the fork spoonful of the beans – I’ve never tasted anything so foul in a long time!; Then, kicked off, quickly followed by .
I think some bleach might have found its way into the brown cobs as well!
I put the meal into a small bag, then a stronger blue one, and then in a black bag to go down to the chute in the morning. The morning Carer is going to get a shock, Hehehe!
As I checked the kitchen to make sure the taps and oven were not left on, the sink and floor had been cleaned up, and the window was shut too!
I got down into the c1968 recliner, in need of rest, if not sleep! But, no! was showing no signs of allowing me to nod off! Turned on the . I suppose because of the calamity with the meal, I had no option but to respond each time by worrying about things like, ‘Did I check the wet room sink?’ ‘Is the oven turned off?’. ‘Did I take the Peptac?’ Where did I put the camera?’ ‘Did I close the balcony windows?’ ‘What day & time is the Booster for?’ What’s that noise I can hear?’ ‘Did I leave the heater on in the wet room?… on and on they flowed, and I meekly checked for whatever the concern was every time one came to me. Not only did I tire myself out with my tramping into every room in the flat and back to the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Constantly for what seemed ages. But in the process, I got a , and walked into the doorframe, setting off! It reminded me that I’d mentioned to the Doctor on the phone about all this malarkey. I’m glad I did but did she listen? She said not a word about it when I mentioned it to her. Then the arrived. At least for a while, I stopped getting up to check on things. How the mind seeks out so easily the slightest things that you have any concerns over is distressing. Well, the fact that one can’t stop them is more annoying! Then, another arrived in the brain… ‘Did I lock the door?’. So off again to check… I hadn’t, as it happens – so I did!
On the way back to the recliner, I espied a late night sky I thought worthy of photographicalisationing. So, I did.
The Lumix was in auto-mode as I took the picture. It made the photo much more bright and light than it looked to my eyes. Back into the recliner, brain-drained and so tired-out. However, the had at last departed… Now my mission was to get to sleep before the ing started again!
Around about 07:30hrs, chiming out woke me up in a somewhat confused state… Nay, a perplexed state! Although this was obviously not as bad as that was! Not since the stroke day have I felt worse on waking up. It took me a while to work out just what was happening. Was I dreaming again? Had I lost the evening to whiles? I then realised it was morning and not evening. (I’m quick sometimes, you know!) I worked out that whoever the Carer was had not come in – so I had not unlocked the door. (After a minute or so of Sherlockian investigating) The rude awakening and the confused mind left me in a fantod state of mind. I struggled as fast as I could to get the door unlocked. Ad I hope hoped, it was who was there. Once I began to tell him of what I’m not sure: presumably of last night’s farce when I was sure it was morning. The why and how I believed it was in the was evening and not morning now… Everything I was saying was confusing, even to me. I think I was also forgetting what I was saying all the time. So, no reports on Richards’s visit to give you many details about it. Not that I felt in the slightest bit unwell or poorly, mind you. Just in a bemused, perplexed, mind-going-around-in-circles, sort of in a chaotic, jumbled world of its own, with me chasing after it! However, to whatever happened as I was walking Richard to the door. Life, understanding and acknowledgement of the things around me returned began to return to me. No recollection of taking the medications, but I just know that I was waffling on to poor Richard and losing what I was saying seconds later. But by then, I’d be on another subject, and I wanted to keep on that before I lost track of that topic. I think… I hope to formulate a message to tell the Doctor tomorrow when she rings me. That is understandable to her. Although it’s not so to me, I must tell her what happened? Aha! I’ve just found the memory note, and it mentions Carer Richard. (Not a lot on the pad, though; proof that my concentration is still insufficient!). As best I can decipher the notes, it says: “Richard… I talked gibberish. Vague ___?___. But report? Seeing Richard off.” That’s all? This was written about 9½hrs ago, so not surprising that I can’t work out the missing or unreadable wordings for the life of me. Humph!
Off to the kitchen to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea. Then, just after adding the water, The was needed. I sat there, once again, waiting for the evacuation to begin. I even sang, Begin the Begin to myself. Artie Shaw’s 1939 version, of course. Counted the cracks in the ceiling and wet room wall. I may have nodded off for a while as well. When the torpedo started its slow, grindingly painful journey to freedom, it woke me up with a shog and captured my full attention! The relief was phenomenal! It must have been a two-minute spell while the escaping product travelled out before it hit the water. bled only the tiniest amount, but they stung like the devil! Germoloid ointment came to the rescue! Olive oiled the ears. And then I touched up knee with a good dose and rubbed in plenty of the Phorpain Gel. Hobbled back to the kitchenette. To the now stone-cold mug of 99 tea! . Well, I made another, keeping all calm, as id my want and very nature. As I poured the water into the mug, I espied something floating on top? Obviously, the kettle needed descaling. No Sherlockian Investigations were required here.
I decided I’d do it straight away, as I knew where the last packet of descaling powder was, in the old cutlery drawer! But no! It wasn’t in there! The search to find the packet must have taken me at least an hour! It had fallen down the back of the drawer into the cupboard below. Now I was all the more determined, resolved to get the kettle de-furred! I got the spy-glass to read and rewrote the instruction on some paper, nice and large, so I could not get them wrong. Then got them wrong! I think. I couldn’t check because I’d unthinkingly torn up the carton the sachet came after I’d added it to the kettle! I thought it said Leave it in hot water in the kettle for ten minutes. Which I did, and I timed it to spot on. Rinsed was advised, boiled again and emptied.
Kicked off and got a reply post-haste. I’ve got this returning his bangs to a tee using the Wooden Walter stick! He did many knockings late on, but they were barely discernable. Thanks, Herbert!
I got an email from Asda telling me there were some lines (6) unavailable, and some substitutes had been made. A link to amend the order was pressed. I proceeded to get myself into the right mess. I could not find a way to cancel the substitutions.I’m not sure what I did wrong, but when I clicked amend the order, I’d spent £15 more than the original order was! ! and joined forces in a sudden pain attack. !
When I made the mug of Thompson’s Punjana tea, I thought I could see things floating about in the kettle? Oh, .
Jodie arrived to see me. We had a laugh and a natter about things. She reminded me about the spoons to get for the Pentax. And watched while I put it on the Calendar. Then asked me if I had booked an EasyLink lift for the Tuesday visit to the chemist. Thanks to , I had no idea whether I had or not. Jodie offered to ring Deana in the morning to confirm for me. ♥ I gave her the last ‘Smoked’ Coke from the fridge, an extra one; thanks for helping me.
Carried on with blogging while having ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. You’ll never believe it, but:
Then, the chips were in the oven with the smoked BBQ rice and the peas left in the saucepan. I’m feeling hungry for the first time in a while this Monday night. Oh… I found this photo on the SD card. Not the foggiest idea about it?
Got the belated checks done.
At last, I got some late-evening fodder cooked. It went down a treat! I ate it slowly, savouring every fork and spoonful! I masticated each one more than usual… by gum, this was one of the best meals I’d done for myself for ages!
A genuinely worthy, tasty meal that deserved a Flavour-Rating of 9.4/10! As you can see here in the photo of the finished meal, all that was left was a few grains of rice. Had let me see them with the naked eye, I’d have gobbled them up as well!
Washed, changed and settled in search of some rest and peace in the arms of . But, with and both kicking off the moment I settled, never stood a chance!
As I lay there for hours, unable to sleep, my IQ warned me, ‘There’s worse to come tomorrow!’
06:00hrs: I woke my better-than-nothing four-hour kip. I waited for my brain to kick into gear, but it didn’t. So, in a sort of auto-mode, I decided to get the ablutioning done. I thought it best, in case the Carer arrived early.
But, No! , by the time I’d risen, the driven brain had started and decided I’d do the first after all.
I must admit that there was a little agitation brewing at this course of actioning change! Why? How? I was certain I was going to get sphygmomanometerisationing done. But somehow or other ended up getting the clothes ready, and yet I still drifted into the wet room? I still hadn’t really grasped what I was doing until I was lathering up for a shave. It was so unreal. Had done the Health Checks and had a memory blank? No, no… it was at her worst, toying with me. So, I stopped shaving; and got back into the front room. This time I did set about sphygmomanometerisationing. It took me ages to get them done, then the graphics, and then I totally forgot about doing the ablutions? This is not easy for me to relate to.
I got puzzled at first at the grading the NHS site gave for Blood Pressure. I had two results in the Green, so expected to overall at least be in the amber this time. Again, No! I ended up deeper in the Hypertension 1+ area than yesterday! Erm? Then, the body temperature, which has been so good, I thought lately, had tumbled down into the Low-Red area. I think I’ll just print them off and not bother fretting over whatever the results are in future. I imagine the arithmophobia is partly the reason things do not seem right to me. Ah, I think I may have got the numbers mixed up?
After a while, I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea… but ended up making a mug of Co-op 99. I know this is not earth-shattering, but it’s indicative of my state of mind this morning. I’m trying to find the words for this. ‘Puddled’ comes to mind.
I took these shots of the view from the kitchenette window.
Then, I remembered the needed to be done. Back to the wet room, and the need for the arose. Down on the plastic seat, and as it has been for a few days now, Constipation Conrad ruled. No torpedo today, though. After what felt like an hour of pushing and hurting in an effort to start the evacuation, suddenly, the pain eased, followed by a series of plopping into water-sounds. Haha! This time, there was some bleeding from . I restarted the shaving that I stopped many hours ago. Just the two tiny . Had another stand-up session and no showering.
Arrived later than usual. Well, it’s not unusual on the last day of his shift. I got that wrong! is toying with me today. Richard was yawning a little, but far less than last Thursday (He didn’t come last Thursday!) We had a chinwag, and he sorted out the Covid booster for me. He’s a good lad.
WordPress Comments. Esther arrived. Updated Wed blog. Jenny called to see how I was. CorelDraw to make graphs as needed.
Deana called to say the EasyLink lift was arranged for 10:20hrs in the morning. I mentioned the Covid Booster, and we worked out which one to go to would be best. She tried to get it at Riverside tomorrow, but she had no free time near that. She then got it booked at Carrington Pharmacy for Thursday 18th, at 10:45hrs. She’ll try her best to book a lift there with EasyLink for me.
Belatedly I got onto Pinteresting. Made a meal (took a photo of it, but I left the SD card in the computer – Spit! Carer Sinead arrived, always social event and laugh.
04:00hrs: I woke after another practically sleepless night. Vague of mind, but the sudden need of the overused encouraged me to stir myself, and rise like an elephant does, strugglingly up onto my feet, and was soon in the wet room, and I sat there awaiting the movement to begin; it was just too painful to rush things along, I know, I tried. But soon gave up. Hehe! Couldn’t find more than 16 cracks in the ceiling this morning; methinks that my ailment that’s known as is getting worse? Tried the crossword book, but no concentration was available. I tried counting the veins in my legs… After what seemed a ludicrously long while, the action began. Grindingly slowly again! No question about it, Constipation Conrad was in charge.
Once the torpedo started creeping out, the pain eased, and it kept going. It was getting it started that was the problem. But still at a snail’s pace. Still, the pain slowly got less, so I was content and even considered having another go at the crossword puzzle. Yet again, there was no bleeding from . I’m not complaining! Although, the piles did feel a little tender. I decided to tackle doing the .
I didn’t have a shower, it was a little early, and I didn’t want to disturb my neighbours. I stripped off (Such a horrendous sight), that’s why I only have a shaving mirror in the flat. I was tending to, washing and medicationing my unused department to get the pain over with first. All done now! Two only, and miniature ones. Great! I got both my socks on without having to use ! Head slowly shakes swankily! Admittedly it was still as painful as using her and getting fingers trapped or scratches in the legs, but still, I was rather proud.
And, the legs, feet, and ankles were looking good, the best they had for months. Of course, the darned was not better. Of course, they will not get less painful until I get the seen to? I got perfumed, after-shaved and dressed. Then Germoloided the stinging .Then I started to Germolene the tender area and stomach folds. Got dressed.
Off to the kitchenette, put the kettle on, and took these two rather well-taken shots of the view from the kitchen window.
I used the Lumix set to the SCN Night view mode. By gum, didn’t I do well? Hahaha!
Of course, it could be down to ailment. And I only think that I did well? Searching for compliments here? Har-har! I emptied all the waste bags into the large one in the kitchen, then refilled a caddy with some. Thompson’s Signature tea bags. I tore up the carton and put it into the new black bag. I missed the bag hanging on the door handle altogether! Bent down to pick up the pieces of cardboard and knocked over Metal Mickey; The handle landed perfectly right on one of the ! .
I made the brew, and I got the computer on. I knew it was going to take me ages to catch up on yesterday’s blog finishing. So I got stuck into it.
Had arrived. At that very moment, bursting into life was . She was bad for a few minutes, and this concerned Richard. Who resisted my wishes not to, summoned the 111 NHS line and then called for an ambulance, bless him. Told me I didn’t look well at all. Two paramedics arrived within minutes. As they were speaking to Richard, thankfully, Anne Gyna calmed down a lot. But kicked of with a vengeance, and the medics wanted to know all about the history. But the BP, temperature and Pulse were a tiny bit out, but nothing to worry about? How come? Many investigative questions were asked and answered. And they told me to throw away the Hemp medications that I’ve been taking to get to sleep. Actually, they have not worked for a few days, anyway. The paramedics believed that the Hemp, although have a calming effect, they could and will cause panic attacks. Which they thought might have caused the chest pains.
I thanked them. So when they had gone, I asked to throw them in the bin or give them to someone who could make use of them. Blimey, some monies worth went in the chute today. But, better safe than sorry, I say. They will check with the Doctor after she’s spoken to me about it next week.
Why I’ve no idea, but since then, the pain from , did not stop, but they were definitely easier on me as time passed. The reflux stayed the same, more or less?
Oh, also, I have to take Pentax four times a day, but a measured dose, not the gulps from the bottle I’ve been taking. A capful each time. This is most important, the paramedics told me.
I was feelings a smidge out of sorts, but not poorly. The flat with my having three people in it, talking between themselves about the situation, confused me a little, I think. I’d put the hearing aids in with the new batteries, but it was still not easy to catch everything they said. I wasn’t even sure who was talking to or with who. Hehehe!
I got in a pickle through a lack of concentration. Suddenly it was time for the evening carer to call. It was Carer Charley. Apparently, the Meridian staff had been discussing me with Richard about me today. They have been told not to take any items or treats in thanks from me from now on? Now I’m sulking!
Got some nosh cooking. Fishless fish sticks, tomatoes, gherkins, roast sliced potatoes, and tried dep of the tomato & Basil flavoured sauce – I will not be trying it again, though. Not nice, indeed, unpleasant. However, the rest of the meal was just fine, nothing to overpraise, but satisfactory enough for me. Overall taste-rating: 6.5/10.
I found that I’d missed off of the blog these two photos that I had taken earlier.
The cloud formations were, I thought, tremendously pretty.
I got the pots washed, and Carer Charley called to give me the medications. She gave the tablets by hand, one at a time, and poured out the Peptac measured dose for me using the bottle cap. Then took the waste bags with her to the chute for me. ♥
I carried out the checks with the usual repetition of checking things a couple of times. The taps are being turned off mainly.
As I climbed into the £300, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly Karki-beige coloured, crumb containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner, I caught my ingrowing toenail on some loose cotton on the quilt. Which made me jump a bit, swear and give out an … Unfortunately, this caused me to drop the remote control to the video player off of the arm of the recliner. Naturally, in the dark, even using the wind-up torch, I could not locate the absconded remote.
Cracked yet again, once more… the toe with the … which hurt! Retrieved the remote, and got the DVD with a Sherlock Holmes disc, turned it on, and got down into the recliner once again… started the DVD playing with the sub-titles chosen…
Realised I had not turned off the room light. So I cautiously took the torch with me to turn off the light, using the torch to get back down in the recliner. At long last, I was able to wallow in the old-fashioned over-acting style of Jeremy Brett as Sherlock Holmes. I watched through the first episode, but I started dropping off on the second – so turned off the player and snuggled down in search of Sweet Morpheus.
Couldn’t let me get to sleep again. Well, not for ages. Humph!
35:30hrs: I gave up trying to get any sleep. Disentangled my blubbery body from the c1968, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Off to the wet room for a wee-wee, initially, but it turned out to be, yet again, a long, drawn-out session. I’d got the wrong glasses on, so there was no counting the cracks in the ceiling tiles this morning. A proper, painful one, dead on the flipping right foot’s . Argh-Ugglethump! It’s now 6½hrs later, and it’s still tender.