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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday. Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today. However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg). ①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha! ② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem! I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…
According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.
Off to the wet room Throne.
Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.
Rubbish sorted.
At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.
Carer Maryham arrived. She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open. Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.
After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.
An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them. Humph! I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions. Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha! I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table. And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks. Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink! I’ll not get them again!
I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later. On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her. Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems. I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either! As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call. It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving. It went like a dream! Not a single cut! I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!
What next? I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good! Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications. Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me. So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day! I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!
I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.
I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal. Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter. I enjoyed this.
Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement. I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!
The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .
Possibly my most confusing day for weeks now. In and out of control of things and happenings. One late morning and Gawd knows how many more throughout the day. I can’t recall being in such confusion for a long time. I found out later that I’d placed an order for J Sainsbury. But it’s all a mystery to me. Looking at what I ordered really made me wonder how the hell, why, and when I made it. I can’t help but occasionally worry about it and myself.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s too dark yet again. It usually clears a bit later.
Taken while getting the Nocturnal Cather Pouch unattached. The white spot is the flash from Kodak Tim.
Made up a waste bag and hoovered around the main room. It’s that Inchy, you know, forever dropping crumbs, pens, torches, mobile phones (when he can find them), and anything else that is not attached to him is droppable, really.
Ablutions, medications & Porcelain Throne Visit(s) I carried out another Whoopsiedangleplop after the first painful use of the Porcelain Throne – I forgot all about, or maybe I might have thought I’d done it, the shaving! As with yesterday’s first attempt, the movement was showing no signs of any interest in escaping the depths of my heavily fabbed body and innards. So, I got the crossword book out. Flipped it open and started on the random one. I also got a few answers; I got two more answers anyway. Then, the pain started, which again caught me by surprise. All the signs were that it was going to be a Trotsky effort. To take my mind off the pain, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling for a while. There were 27 cracks up there, I think. The pain suddenly reached a crescendo, and a tear came to my eyes; I gritted the few teeth I had left in my mouth, cringed and anticipated that a lot of blood would need cleaning up when it finally arrived. As it almost shot out, the pain eased, and the plump, plump… plumps were heard as the almost cube-shaped giant, Kharki-coloured Oxo cubes hit the water – to be followed by what I thought would have been the first things to exit… Whoosh, splatter, all done! I reckon it was controlled by 15% of Constipation Conrad; the rest was definitely a Trotsky Terence follow-through. This horrendous evacuation may have helped me forget I’d not shaved. The medicationalisationing went tremendously well! Getting the PPs on was not so easy. With the assistance of the small pick-upper I keep in the wet room and sticking my butt in the corner near the door for support, I was pleased with how I got the right leg in the pants so comfortably. I had to lift my left leg with my left arm to get it high enough to go into the leg hole of the pants, keeping the pick-upper in the same hand to pull at the pants to get my foot in. One second, I was struggling to keep my balance. The next second, I clumped down onto the floor on my knees. This upset, , , and in both knees, they let me know their discomfort in the usual fashion. Arrgh! didn’t seem too bothered by my tumble. This shows he’s healing up a bit. Even crawling on all fours to the recliner to regain my feet was almost tolerable pain-wise. It took great effort to clamber up on the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. I stayed there for a minute or two. As I grabbed , I’d left in the wet room and rose gingerly from the chair. Carer Christopher arrived. He seemed in a light mood, bless him. He got the one diabetic sock on and medicated me fully. I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette. I took this Kodak Tim of the grim view on offer. I think the sun will struggle to get through today. As usual, my eyes were much better in the morning than in the afternoon. So I made a mug of tea and pressed on with yesterday’s blog while I could see well enough.By 10:30hrs, the double shadows started to kick in. Krunglebumps! But I did get the blog finished and posted.
FLAT FIRE ALARM: I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that the Fire Alarm went off. This was the first time it had activated since they installed the new, louder one, and I did not hear the old one when it was activated. I had a hobble around to check things in the other rooms, but all looked well. I imagine it must have been a test. Because no brigade or staff members had arrived to check things out. They may have changed the day of the tests. When I could get about, any changes used to be amended on the notice board in the foyer.
The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved. Carer Kara visited me. She opened yesterday’s mail, both letters were from the bank. Nowt to fret over, she said. She asked how I was feeling and checked the catheter bag. Kara kindly took the laundry bag down with her.
I returned to the wet room, determined not to have any more tumbles, to get the shave I forgot about earlier done. I had a Porcelain Throne Mark2 visit. No chinks this time, straight to the slushiness if a regular heavily Trotsky Terence commanded evacuation. Well, at least I get diverse, multifaceted, distinct evacuations. Hehe! Then, I tackled the shaving. There was just one tiny cut, nothing to bother about. It took me much longer than planned because I couldn’t find my spectacles after getting on the new nightshirt. (I found them later)
My eyes are fading now. I’ll make a meal while I can do it a little more safely before the eyes get worse.
It’s not a bad effort visually. But the beef and I found both bits of it between the grizzled and fat, was disappointing, as was the so-called gravy. So much for ready-made meals! Thankfully, the potatoes that I baked to accompany it were superb. They were seasoned with black pepper and some of the adorable No-butter butter, but even this did not fill me. So I backed up the sad-tasting but good-looking meal by delving into my favourite biscuit box! Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets. They were nice!
Carer Christopher arrived. He took off my one diabetic sock. Dealt out the medications, and then I asked him to take a photo of me in the new nightshirt. Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways. ① The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. ② The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” ③ And most uniquely, this is the only time anyone has caught me having two of my shakes on camera simultaneously. Bearing in mind that they are rare and usually do not last for more than a minute makes this all the more remarkable. I ought to be in the medical Gazette! Hehe!
I can hardly recall the details of Carer Chris’s last call. He woke me up but was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, she never stops her bemusing, irritating meddling with the synapses and memory cells. is to blame overall, I think. But I could be wrong, of course. Perhaps failing was involved in the brain invaders’ plot to send me into another world of confusion. For all I know… which is more guesses than estimates.
My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning. I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit .
It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today. Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.
Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.
I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!
Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.
Here are cloud photos taken over the day.
I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.
We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?
I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google.
PN vs. MS vs. FND
Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy– Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness. People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others. Please read this, Doctor, Please! I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!
It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.
Morning: Catch up on this blog. A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’ I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.
Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her!
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Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The effects of yesterday’s tumble and loss of blood were felt today. After spending so long on the Ode, I got the blog up to here, which is more than it’s ever taken me before. A much-belated headache and I seem to have awoken the recently calm and unbothering me, Dizzy Dennis, who is unhappy with me. So from here on, things might get minimal, basic and mistake-ridden. I could be wrong, of course.
I’ll take another Codeine and press on.
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – At first, I was worried about the urine being so dark, but I realised it must have been the kerfuffle when I fell in the wet room yesterday, so I’ll not fret yet.
The NCC electrician called. She was a friendly gal who quickly replaced the socket. In appreciation for her help, I was given a nibble and drink. I’ll have to get a new lampshade.
The plaster on a mammoth, massive 2mm wound on my head was showing a little blood, but not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. Hehe! The Carer took these photographs using Kodak Tim. The redeye looked to be well-receeded. Did I spell that right? Changed it. Took a snap of the lovely streaky clouds on view. Then, the headaches began. They’ve stayed with me a;; day so far. (20:60hrs)
I gave the new cheapo camera to Carer Chris. It is no good keeping it. The handle allows two fingers to go through it. The battery cover is loose and very delicate. I shall continue with Kodak Tim despite the occasional blotches that appear in the pictures. And the USB connector it very stiff to get in and out of the camera. And there is no lens cover on it, with fiddly tiny buttons. I think maybe I bought a child camera. Still, that suits Chris. His missus can have it. He likes it too! Good for him.
Got the bags sorted out. I ordered some plasters from Asda. They are so much cheaper than the Amazon ones I looked at. But I did see they had some Brut splash all over and deodorants at a fair price. I ordered some. It should be coming tomorrow. In time I hope for when the Carer takes off the plaster from my head. Just in case it bleeds again, the Brut might sting a bit, but it’s usually a good shaving cut bleed stopper.
I pressed on with the Ode, not even started on the blog yet. I thought this Kodak Tim shot of the houses opposite the flats came out nicely. Smug Mode! Note that the smudge or blotch is back on the screen and photos again. A smidge disappointing cause I thought that these two photographs came out okay; otherwise. Carer Joanne called. Glad she is feeling a bit better – unless she is fibbing. Hahaha! Carer Chris took the Laundry down for me and returned it later. The socks came back wet again; all six sleeves in the dressing gowns were inside out. So, everything is normal there. Haha!
I’m not feeling up to much now; it gets worse as I get tired. It’d help if this bloody headache eased off. I took my limit of painkillers. Yet I’m so glad to say that the lower regions are not tpo painful at all from the catheter tube. I can’t last, of course! I don’t feel hungry enough to bother making a meal. I’ll have some seaweed crisps and tomato sarnies… well, I might.
I’ve had a go at the WP reader. Amazing photos from New Mexico, Paul’s poetry that captures the mind, and Andy, the cat we all love, from Doug.
Wonderful Cloud Formations.
What do these bring to the mind of a Pareidolianist like Inchy. ? Is it a whale?
Is it a bird?
Is it a lizard? Is it a shark? I can see every one of them at the same time.
This headache is still with me, with a sort of throbbing, if that’s the right word. Carer Victor called, and he got the socks off. The Medications were given, and the nocturnal catheter pouch was attached to the day bag. I hope this head pain-throe stops soon. It’s not like me to have headaches… well, it wasn’t until I had butted the sink or tap. I didn’t appreciate how bothersome the belated headache could be until today. Now, where’s the Codeines?
I started the ablutions. I cut shaving cream, cut gums while cleaning my teeth, and stubbed my toe against the support bar. These were not unusual incidents; they were everyday incidents. Hehehe! The ankle ulcer looked likely to erupt again. But blessedly, the Left and were rare today, as indeed they were last night in bed, only had three. I noticed that the finger’s mystery blue patches were back again. They don’t hurt, and it’s not often I can say that about my ailments, especially the catheter tube giving Little Inchy so much stick! The cut lip from yesterday’s was scabbing up already. I could see it later on, and the blood flowed.
I opened the window to take this shot but got wet in the rain. I closed it and took this shot as the rain suddenly got a lot heavier. I’d like to point out that I didn’t trap my finger! I’d turned off the flash, so I think the flash on the photo must have been from the reflection of the lightbulb.
Sorted the waste bins into one bag.
The end car park mudslide was building up.
I got on with updating yesterday’s blog. But for some unknown reason, the damned tube was so painful this morning. And it felt again, just like yesterday, that I thought I was getting a backflow? Still, it’s only pain. Luckily, I have an incredible pain tolerance level and am a brave, heroic sort of chap, you know. It made concentration difficult, and, of course, many mistakes were made and corrected. I expect I missed many.
Carer Shaquille called. Medicated me, put the diabetic socks on for me, and the light build blew! He heard it crack! I got the spare out of the cabinet, and he offered to swap the bulbs. He’s a tall lad who could reach up easily enough. It took him ages, as the bayonet in the socket had a bit of plastic broken off, making it difficult to fit it in, but he did it. The replacement bulb had a clear glass. Boy, it’s got a bright light; neither of us could believe it. Thank you, Shaquille! Saved the day!
I tried to concentrate on the blog as best as I could. Cock-up, following a mistake, quickly followed by another error.
Carer Sam arrived. I was telling her about the problem and pain with the Catheter. (Which, incidentally, eased off a lot of hours later.) However, the pains started almost the second Little Inchie got some respite. It’s being so lucky that keeps me going, you know.
Still raining!
I think this was an unintentional snap that I took. I’m not sure what I Kodak-Tim’d.
The flow of urine increased. It suddenly became less frequent that I had to empty the pouch. And I was busy blogging (or making mistakes), so I wasn’t drinking anywhere near the usual spring water intake. But what I was passing was gin clear with none of the fluffy bits in it. I was baffled and in pain at the same time. After about an hour, the flow restarted. Then the pain lessened, still there, but far less severe. I thought, what’s going on here?
Carer Israel arrived as I was emptying the pouch into the jug. He pointed out that the fluffy bits were back again! Embarrassingly, he looked at the tube entry point and noticed that light brown gunk around the plastic tube had also returned. He wanted to ring the Doctor for me. But the pain was easier to cope with. (Of course, it got worse later. Tsk!)
It’s still raining!
Took this shot later. Came out fairly well. Apart from the blotchy smudges, of course.
I noticed this advertisement when looking for local snippets earlier in the day. It reminded me of my cyber buddy, Tim Price in New Mexico. He’s a clever photographer and naturist, amongst other qualities. He lives near a bosque, and his photographs of the local Owls are just great. Here’s one in particular that I think should be in a nature or art gallery. Brilliant! I’d loved to have gone on a visit to see the baby owls.
This is the early morning shot of the mudslide. This one is how it looks now! Wet!
I think the rain is easing off.
Ten minutes later – Yes, at last!
A late call from Carer Israel is due anytime now. Then it’s food, then Kip for me! Israel arrived. My socks were taken off, medication was given, and he checked the Catheter for me. Gunk still leaking from the tube at the insertion point. Tsk!
Food attended to.
How did you do? Well, that should have been easy enough. Even I got two of them. Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I bet Tim Price gets this! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I coped reasonably well with getting up early, getting the ablution done, getting dressed with the trousers on, and being on time for the lift to the Doctor’s surgery with the caregiver’s help.
I was lifted back to the flats, and from then on, I got more tired progressively for the rest of the day. Drained, weary, done for. The day’s memory is muddled. Maybe the injections affected me? The photos helped a little, but things will be missing or out of order/sync.
Fell asleep on and off ever since getting back from the surgery. Memory blanks, possibly a few NE seizures in there. Slept too long and had to rush to do this in the morning. Many of the regular things missing, no time. Worries me a bit cause I’ve got to go out again today. At the doctor, an appointment has been made for a Hospital visit on Monday next for X-rays; I have not mentioned details cause I’ve likely got them muddled up. Not feeling too good at all, I’ll have to rush to get the time to get ready for today’s lift.
Scary red urine!
View.
Leaving the flat, down to wait for the lift.
I have a doctor’s appointment for an examination of the knees and ankles. I have an appointment at the hospital on Monday. The receptionist arranged a lift for me there. Barrier cream and something else was added to my prescription list and sent to the chemist, and I need carers to collect them for me.
Lift home photos. Surgery car park. Arriving at flats.
In the foyer
A hazy blur once I got into the flat.
I think the receptionist from Sherington Park rang to confirm the lift for Monday and the timing. I found it on the calendar this morning, but I have no memory of putting it on there at all. Scribbled notes, the odd one I could read. Carer Chris came first, and then as I got home, Carer Kara changed the catheter pouch and checked for appointments, I think.
Wearier and wearier, I made a meal.
I Fell asleep and couldn’t concentrate on blogging at the time; so tired and confused.
Carer Kimberly woke me.
I fell asleep again…
The last Carer woke me.
Fell asleep – and did not wake for about five hours.
Had to get up to do this update straight away.
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A short blog, as I anticipate tomorrow due to the diabetic session, will have to be… and Mondays with the hospital appointment.
Well, there were still plenty of hassles, worries, and mistakes made. There were many visits and stings from . I have never had so many during the day before on a single day. I am greedy! Hehehe!The Doctor’s surgery gave me a tinkle. To make an appointment for them to give me painkilling injections in the knees, to counter & . I’ll see if I can remember to tell them about the latest ailment craze from . She made an appointment for 09:40hrs on Thursday, 18th April. Same day as I was to be going to the Diabetes Course in Bulwell. Can’t win ’em all… Humph, I can’t win any! Haha! The replacement carpets ruined in the flood escapades arrived. I cleaned the wet room again, another mess made by yours truly, Inchy. The hallway carpet had not dried yet, so I went into the wet room, taking black bits from the carpet onto the floor! I decided to wash the bottoms of the slippers and dry them off well. Naturally, I got soapy water on the soft outers of the slipped and had to put them on the fairer to dry. Then, the need for the Throne arrived in a bit of a rush. I made more mess going in with my bare feet this time. Tried to use kitchen towels to clean it up, using my feet, but I couldn’t bend down far enough without suffering from the pain. And if I did get down, I’d probably not have been able to get up again! Then, trying to wash my feet, I got my plates of meat into the bowl alright, but at just the optimum time to cause me the worst degree of bother, as I was removing the dodgier right leg, prone to bursting into a wild dance of its own accord, I had a , and tipped the bowl over! Thus had to clean the place up again for the third time! I took the bag of rubbish and put it in the waste chute. ; not realising how early it was in the day. (approx 05:00hrs) I’m going to get it in the neck now; from those people, I might have woken up.Tsk! Finally, at long last, I set about having a shave (only one cut). I searched for the toothpaste. After a few minutes of failed investigation, I assumed it had dropped, and I’d taken it out in the waste bags. Arrgh! It was also the last of the prescription toothpaste. I think at one time, I believed I was still asleep and dreaming. The showering was okay… just one clouting of my head on the power box today. I got the medicationalisationing done. Amazing, I easily got the PPs on. No socks, of course, like a baby waiting for his nanny; the Carer will sort that out for me later. I got on the computer. Carer Kimberly arrived. Socks on, medications, a mini-natter, and laughter were enjoyed. There was a bit of mini-blank here. Hours later, the intercom rang out, and the first of the carpets arrived. Five minutes later, the second carpet (Well, rugs or mats, really). arrived. We spent a few minutes setting the world to rights. She seemed to have a sore throat. I hope she is not getting the dreaded lurgy. No idea why, but there must have been some logic in it somewhere; I made a J Sainsbury order for 14 days time. I think it may have been… no, no idea. I called back later and returned the borrowed bag of ‘s. I was pleased to be in a position to help some other tenant out with the loan. It makes a change from flooding them out, and guilt returns!
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Onwards to the photos. The urine in the night bag looked much darker when I viewed it with my admittedly poor eyes. The wet room farce was over. It looked good after three hours of mayhem and cleaning it up again… and again, and finally, once again this morning. Damned good job I couldn’t sleep and got up early. Not that the poor devils living in the twelve-floors below, would appreciate it with me using the darned waste chute that early in the day. Guilt again! This is the first picture of the view from the kitchenette that I took. The amazing blue hue was back again. Bootiful!
I forgot to tell you, when I was cleaning the wet room, I used the new lavatory brush. Can I get it back in its hub? I still can’t.
The day pouch was filling up swiftly today. However, it was getting darker as the say went on. It usually does the opposite. My first mug of Glengettie tea of the day. It really is the best I’ve ever tasted. Shame I’m only allowed two cups a day. (Sob!) The postman dropped my Anticoagulation results DVT, INR, and through the letter box. An increase in dosages. It’s a smidge low. The most amazing cloud formation this evening. Not unlike the news snippet above Mammatus clouds? I see so many things in these three pictures. I’ve put in this blog a little larger. I hope that my fellow bloggers, Tim Price and Paul, and any reader, can see what I did in them. Who is a Pareidolianist? The second mug of Glengettie was enjoyed while I was blogging away merrily. The authenticity of the last bit is dubious. Why the hell do I write so small? I know full well (at times) that my eyesight is crap, and I’ll not be able to read what I’ve written!
I got the smallest of the mats into the wet room. I decided this should be recorded for prosperity. Despite my shakes, I was determined to get a picture taken with the whole mat in it – I didn’t!
Carer Helen called, and medications were given. After I offered them, she took about 40 of my DVDs with her, as I cannot see or hear them nowadays. She’ll collect the others later. Great, a clear out at last.
Better get the nosh prepared… it’s nearly midnight. A tastier effort tonight. Well, this morning. (pork knuckle), Golonkowa, chips, a brown wholemeal baguette and a pot of naughty but so delicious lemon curd yoghourt.
I found it, but it took me 33 seconds. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN
I’m unsure what or who to blame for today’s lunchtime disaster. may have been the natural culprit, but she might well have been supported to a degree, possibly, by , or maybe I had a , or even might have had a visit? It was embarrassing, annoying, angering, and so frustrating. I felt worth about tuppence after Kara found the mess, and sorted it for me. I’ll explain about this cock-up come now, to get it out of the road that I was so humiliated with committing. Here goes, then…
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP OF THE YEAR! There I was, bashing away at blogging and catching up. Carer Kara called. She replaced the Catheter Day Pouch for me and got some socks on me. She emptied out what was left in the pouch and took it to the wet room for emptying, I heard her call, but did not know what it was she said… but the tone told me I was not going to like it. Simultaneously, my EQ told me I’d get into Schnook! I got , and I went with dread in my innards to the wet room. The completely flooded wet room! It was coming over the stop-ledge onto the hallway carpet! At one point, the word Tzunami came to mind! And there, in the midst of the man-made lake, the floor drain is not working because the shower has to be working for the drain to start. Kara bless her, got stuck into mopping up the flood and tipping; I think she said eight buckets of collected water in the WC. I’d left the damned hot water tap running again! Instantly, my self-esteem shrank to zero; I became self-conscious, unsettled, ashamed, humiliated, remorseful, contrite, and castigated, and this turned to embarrassingly feeling chastened, castigated, sheepish, and guilty all at once! I ran her Obergruppenfurheress to tell her what had happened and that she would be late for her next appointment. I can imagine what was said about this. My blameworthiness got worse now, but it got even worse minutes later. Obergruppenfürheress Warden Deana and Brigade Fürheress Warden Julie both arrived with worse news. Julies flat below was flooded! My self-recrimination didn’t really need any help by being told they may have to have me evicted. Even if she had a smile on her face. Hehehe! I asked if they would take my apologise to Julie with some nibbles and drinkies. Which they kindly agreed to for me. Kara was a treasure helping me out like she did. Thank you very kindly, gal! ♥ – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
According to my memory notepad, I got up at 05:30hrs. Just a few overnight. The problem was getting to sleep. I felt properly worn out as well, but Sweet Morpheus wasn’t letting me for an hour of more. Drifted off eventually. Not that it was planned, but I got the kitchen floor cleaned by using the Speed-mop. I wouldn’t use the mop and bucket, so as to save the hot water from running too cool, for when I planned this afternoon to have a jolly good wash and shaving session. (What with the later flood the hot water now being colder than the cold water, this did not happen. Huh!) Both cartilages were playing me up again. Carer Chris came, put on my socks, medicated me, and took the laundry down, telling me he’d bring it back up later when it was done. I thanked him profusely. Well, he’s a cheeky but nice bloke. I’m glad that Rishi didn’t stop him from getting in. Nearly missed this Kodak Tim photo I took when I was mopping the floor earlier. It was a good effort, but still pretty. Into the wet room to use the . But realised I’d left it there when I went in earlier. So I emptied the night bag. I gathered the waste bags into a large bag and placed them near the front door. Then, I went into the kitchen to see what I could have for a treat for tonight’s meal. Potato chunks, peas and lamb burgers seemed a good idea to me. Then again, me and good ideas don’t really go together, if you know what I’m saying. Cause I have the tremendous ability to misread, miss-see, and miss-hear at the same time. Not to mention having a seizure, mind-blank, or forgetting where, what, why or how I was doing anything at any time. The district nurse visited. Checking on the legs, weighed me, checked the acne. Removed the socks to see how the leg ulcers had got so much easier. The leaking legs had stopped altogether; she was impressed, she said. Then, she looked at my privates and was not pleased at all with the mess the catheter tube had caused down there. She noted that one goolie was larger than the other. I explained that about 6 months ago, it was the size of a grapefruit but had gone down without any medicationing being done to or on it. She said to feel them every day; if any growth is felt to the right testicle, I’ve to call the Clinic straight away. I thanked her and insisted she tales some nibbles and a drink in thanks.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP OF THE YEAR!
I won’t upset myself by repeating things.
Carer Chris returned the laundry, and I hung it up. Not the towels, I forgot to put them in the bag.
I tried to take a snap of the Ex-NHS bed adjuster controller that they kindly got for me, adjuster controller.
I’m not sure what happened, but I missed it completely. Maybe one of the cartilages gave way? This is happening so often today that I barely notice them unless they give all the way, of course. Then, I usually notice when I tumble to the floor. I tried again to get a picture and managed to get the one above. There are no instructions; it is all graphical. But I’m blown if I can understand it. I took this shot of the front car park, but with little interest, I’m afraid. I was feeling so low about flooding Julie’s and my wet room. I think I’ve said above that ‘Guilt’ is the overbearing sentiment. It suddenly went dark outside. This photo was taken on , and minutes later, the sun was coming through again? I started to get the things ready for making a meal. Washing the pots that had not been done earlier due to the Whoopsie with the damned hot water tap in the were room. I felt the catheter pouch pulling; boy, was it full and ready for emptying; the flow back when this happened gave me the sensation I used to get when I could manually pee. Hehehe! Off to the WC and drained it. When done, I forgot all about the washing up I had been doing and got back onto the computer and blogging. I spent around an hour or so on this and decided to make the second brew of permitted tea of the day. Off to the kitchenette, and… WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP Mark Two! I’d left the hot water tap running in the kitchen sink this time! All the same, emotions as I had after the first cock-up in the wet room. I got a nervous rash coming up this time, and for some reason, the Acne flared at the same time. I know this time it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the earlier one, but making the same error twice in a day is not only a record for me, but it lowered my interest and shattered any hopes for some mental improvement. Plus, my submitting to the wiles and rule of . But, of course, this meant the water was cold again, and it ruined my hopes of getting the shower and shaving for tonight. I must get up early in the morning and get it done. My EQ just laughed at me when I wrote this? Wonder what are the odds of me getting up early? It will be 2½ days since I had a shower or shave. So I’m dirty bodily, struggling emotionally and mentally. I must get up as soon as I wake up… oh, the wet room might need more cleaning after using… I wish I could stop thinking! I went to the wet room WC to empty the day pouch again. The urine smelt awful! What next should I moan and groan about? Sinking into a mild depression and giving up hopes and any chance of improvement, I concentrated on getting the meal to be cooked right and tasty at the same time. I tried to put my failures out of my mind for a while. I put some ready-made garlic potato cubes in the oven. I forget their name now. They have a bit of garlic and thyme in them – gorrit! Parmentier potatoes. (I looked them up on the web.)They needed 30 minutes to cook in the oven. So the oven was already heated with the tray in it, so I added the potatoes. (Hence the little burn mark on my right knuckle) Then back to save the work done and turn off the computer. 15 minutes for the tray of J. Sainsbury’s lamb & vegetable hotpot to do in the microwave. I was concentrating hard on getting things right, no idea why I bothered). Some of the tomato ketchup with pickle to zing it up a side, and the last brown baguette to soak up the gravy. Got it dished up on the tray, it looked fantastic. But the potatoes let it down. They had been in the oven for longer that the 30 minutes it said on the wrapper, 40 minutes at least, but they were still undercooked. Disappointing! Everything else was great. With the help of sploshes of the ketchup, I did eat all of the potatoes… well, I was hungry!
She called to deal with me. She took off my diabetic socks. Brrr! She medicationalised me. She listened to my moaning about the events of the day. Well, she almost did. I can’t remember what it was about, but I’m sure we had a laugh or two. Likely from my tales of woe today?
I can’t even see it in the revealing photo?
I don’t want a day like this again! It tested & tormented my brain, Mind you, it wasn’t mundane, Filled with emotional pain… Physical aches, language, profane! Depressions oddly, like a hurricane, I asked the Carer for Cocaine! Still, yer don’t like to complain!
Shaving while standing in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to clean the feet, I could not reach, resulted in a cut-free session! I can’t say the same for teeth cleaning, cracked lips or nose. Oh, and of course, as per usual, , & were leaking the haemoglobin freely.
By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work. Galore! ensued The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet to life. Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?
I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult.
She had stiffened up something awful with all the bending and movement she’d been forced into. Just getting the leg in the pants required the use of the picker-upperer, and some cunning tactics had to be employed with this task. I got my bum up against the sink and lowered the pants with the picker-upperer, I needed both hands, so I was taking a bit of a risk if the bum slipped, I was going to go down. The right hand helps lift the leg up high enough, and the left-hand uses the picker-upperer to guide the opening to the foot. On the fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants. , was not in such a bad mood. Hehehe! At last, I got the PPs on and slippers on. Only to find out that they had gotten wet and bloodied during the Wet Room Rumble! Aching, hurting, wet, and somewhat peeved off, I checked the taps (faucet) were turned off… and needed another sitting on the . What a change! I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette. A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue. The Wet Room Farce cost me over 2½ hours, not to mention the pain, blood, and temper not doing my health very good! I didn’t recover properly from the episode. strangely, the tube inserted into poor , calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!
Sorted the bags out. A new carer arrived.
Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.
Another new Carer arrived.
A long one! During this, two caregivers called, and I have no memory of them at all! I saw they had signed in the log. Work, albeit messy and error-prone, had been done on the blog. Also, on CorelDraw?
I took these Kodak Tim shots of the wonderful clouds in the slowly darkening sky.
The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb.
The catheter day pouch colour was the lightest it’s ever been! But, an hour later when I was getting into the bed… yes the bed, not the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. But the Social people donated an ex-used hospital bed! Initially, kicked off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it. rang out, and in came Carer Richard. This, as it so often does, left me a smidge—what’s the word? Confused will do. After Richard left, and I was climbing back into the ex-NHS bed, I was in panic mode! Did I turn the taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles! The hot water had been left running and ran cold!
I’m hoping for a better day tomorrow!
Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!,
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4:00hrs: I woke feeling oddly a little sprightly (for me). As I tried to rise from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, uncomfortable, incommodious, unwelcoming and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. As I did so, gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think? This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had , in front, along with bleeding at the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.
Then a dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, grouchy, depressed, frustrated, bleeding, in pain, downhearted, depressed, melancholy, forlorn, glum, demoralised, fed up, down in the dumps, in the doldrums, unnerved, chagrined, miffed, sour, sulky, sullen, surly, saddened, subdued, almost sepulchral Inchy.
But within minutes, a stroke of good luck eased my misery by taking my mind off of it. As I was leaving the wet room, I clouted my head, this time on the door frame! 99% of the time, it will be the right shoulder. Blame can be attached to: ,, , or any of the ailments really. On this occasion, the culprits were, I think, and or . The eyes are worse than ever now, and I’m sure I’ll have kicked the bucket before my turn comes for the operation. But, sorting youngsters out early is more vital. They have the prospect of living many years with their sight adjusted. We long in the tooth old things, must accept this.
This morning, the sky was a glorious blue hue again. My confusion was worse than usual for the next hour or two. I got out of the wet room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
There was a smidgen more bleeding from Little Inchy, but it’s not worth mentioning compared to the tsunami that was released yesterday. Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave. Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my was getting better bit by bit.
The areas where the are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. is to blame.
Getting lighter now, I took another Kodak Tim picture from the kitchen window again. The streetlights were off now. As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.
Carer Shaquille arrived. I made an order the J Sainsbury’s for next week. Blogging.
Amending, blogging, correcting, blogging-getting more things wrong, blogging… well, you get the message. Tsk!
Carer Kara arrived. She sorted out the banking problem and said she would try to get in touch with Norton about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. Care Victor, did the last two calls. I took these photos later. Then went into what I believe was a non-apolectic seizure. Not a mind-block. Because it was like blinking, and an hour had gone, but nothing was done whatsoever when I came around back to this miserable existence. After the , I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A procedure Hehe! Nothing gets done as if I’d fallen asleep, but I know it wasn’t that. I think. might play a part in this ailment. At times, I come back to the reality of stinging pains in the lower regions from the catheter bag being too full, and I have to get it emptied swiftly, ASAP. The sunset was about over by the time I regained a modicum of brain control, rejoined the menagerie of life on offer, and got back to the reality and struggle of living.
I DIDN’T
I gave up on the blogging.
Made myself a meal. It tasted delicious, too! I could feel my burnt finger on the oven rack and the pain of dropping the hot oven tray onto my foot. Landing on my . But the meal was worth the hassle.
Wrote by Inchie c1953
Search for the meaning of truth,
Look until you’re long in the tooth,
You may find it, Gawd’s strewth,
Facts will have to be dealth…
With those who demand wealth, Humans want for themselves,
Oligarchs will believe in elves!
