Shuddering Shoulder Shirley – Page 13

Inchy’s Daymare! Thur 4 Apr – Flood, I left taps on twice, Community Nurse, Wardens telling me off, self loathing, and frustrations

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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! ♥
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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!

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TTFN

Imaginal Inchy: Sun 31 Mar 24 Ablutional Nightmare this morning

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Neil Kinnock saidz? Was that an error from the news sight, or did I make it? No, not me, not never. Me? Make a mistake, cock something up… surely not. A man of my edukation and calibre? –
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A confoundingly confusing day, with crises galore!
A spirit-crippling day.
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05:00hrs: What a hue to the morning view.

And flowed, and splattered…

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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TTFN

Interfationing Inchy: Wed 27th Mar 24

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 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!

See you later, take care of yourselves!

Limitability Inchy: Monday 25th March 2024

23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.

I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.

I’d better start the Diary.

04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git!

Urine is even darker.

This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!

Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!

While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.

End car park view.

Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.

Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.

Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.

Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.

I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!

However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… …
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
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Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
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The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.

Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).

Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.

I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!

Oh, dearie me, Little Inchie’s hurting again.

TTFN.

Illaudable Inchy: Sunday 24th March 2024

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05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
The blogging was another nightmare. mistakes, errors, corrections and frustrations.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet. Poor Jane is not an early riser—the opposite, actually. She was coughing away; she’s got the Lurgie, too. Naturally, she did not know. I expect a late call this morning. But it doesn’t matter at all to me. We had a natter, and I listened to her problems for a change. She asked why they did not call me. But, to be fair, they may have when I was in the wet room. Also, I’m not sure if my new telephone number has been passed on to them or not. I gave it to the flats Meridian set-up. He came later anyway. No problems.

The pain from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was horrendous all day long. It didn’t calm down until well late in the night. The Carer saw my state and rang for advice. Said they would send someone to check on it on Monday. We’ll see.
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Dark, too dark again.

Tried to take a photograph or two of the moon. The first one was fairish, the second warped.

Off to the wet room for a shower, shave and shush.

The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful and medicating session ever! Things have not been right down there since the last nurse replaced the catheter. I don’t need to move, and he hurts! If I could, I’d bottle the pain and send it to the Doctors with a note: “Here you are, try some of this now will you listen to me and help?”

Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. I struggled to stop stopped and creamed. , Cream on the . Barrier Creamed all around . Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
I turned to leave with the waste bin in hand and traditionally gave the door frame a charge with my right shoulder, setting off a few minutes’ worth of pain from .

Worst Ablution Session in a long time.

Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!

The carer was late, not that it mattered. Half an hour later, the landline rang out, making me jump.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.

I concentrated on the hard slog of blogging for hours and hours; just not very successfully. Little Inchie was so painful at times, which did not help me concentrate on blogging. Humph!

Carer Kimberley arrived. She could not give me any painkillers because it had not been 4 hours between calls. So I took some Paracetamols. The pain from poor Little has never been worse. I took off the PPs I put on after washing, hoping it would not irritate things as much. But no, it’s just as bad now. With not having the pants on, I caught myself catching the catheter tube more often; AARGH!

What an amazing hue!

Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little , the wee was flowing freely.

I added a packet of PP’s to the Asda order for Tuesday. I tried some different kinds this time

Carer Israel arrived while I was struggling to walk into the kitchen and showed his concern for me. That was nice. He rang someone and spoke to them. 111 probably. He told me they said it was likely to be an infection and a nurse would be calling to check it out tomorrow. Bless his cotton socks. He also had a quick sweep-up in the kitchen for me when he saw how painful it was for me to bend, stretch, bend, walk and keep a hold on things. I much appreciated his efforts.

Back on the blog. Then noticed how bright it looked outside, and I took this truly wonderful shot with … I love this one.
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Bootiful!

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Zoomed-in shot.
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Wider shot.

Burnt to perfection! Just how I love them to be.

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What a magnificent view,
From my kitchen window, too,
I’m pleased with these two,
I went into Smug-Mode, anywho,
Not a smudge, blotch or curlicue,
Decent sky shots were overdue,
Best view, hitherto!

All the Best to You!

Idealist Inchy: Fri 22 Mar 24 Electrical work, Alarm and Fire Brigade

This Friday, the brain had its usual periods of hazy craziness, with intervals of it being floury. You know, messy, unable to sort out. Perhaps it might have been mini-seizures, I don’t know. Others are more aware of my actions when one is visiting than I am. A Carer had the heart to speak with me after being present when I departed spiritually from reality. Assuring me all that happened differently, I could or didn’t speak, but my mouth moved as if I was doing so? I kept doing things silently, some actions not being relevant to the situation, and I had no idea this was happening. I wouldn’t worry about it, at least. So glad to hear someone explain the unknown to me. Hehehe!

This was the first time I’d had a seizure when someone was here to see one. At least, I think it was.

The mail was delivered. I usually put it on the old DVD so Carer Kara can go through it when she comes the following week, but I can’t find it anywhere now.

The Diabetic socks arrived, all three packages, within an hour, each delivered by a different carrier. Photos are further down. Two were extra-long diabetic bamboo socks that looked fine. The bigger one was cotton socks that I ordered by mistake.
Mistake making? Me? Hard to believe! Hahaha!
I left the oven and hob on as well. The hot water faucet (tap) I let run cold… again.

Three electricians arrived to install the new fire alarms and reset the power box. That was mayhem with a capital M. At one point, they had to turn off the power, which caused me to semi-panic. I was scared that the panic alarm box, the internet, and the TV might not come back on again. The very patient electrician checked everything came back on alright; damned kind of him, too! Thank you! All working!
The Fire Alarm was somehow triggered in the flat. I sounded very soft and quiet to my hearing. To the others, the klaxon was driving mad. So, one good point in my being so deaf. Har-har! The brigade arrived and checked out the flat. One spoke to me and walked away. I’ve no idea what he said to me; he’d got his BA kit on. He was soon off after talking to the electricians; at least, I think he did.

Did Carer Victor’s Health Checks on his last call.
Made a decent nosh, much earlier than usual.
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Was the Catheter’s nocturnal pouch was not very full? Then again, I’d not been sleeping for long. The NHS colour grading looked like a number four or five.

I rose from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite-producing, and disease-fermenting, bought second-hand, eyesorely horrible, grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, nocturnal-crumb-ridden, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. With insisting on giving way several times, I hobbled almost comically to the wet room. The attempted evacuation was a wasted effort. I was thinking that at least for once, a rarity, were not bleeding, and I was nearly caught out by collapsing, giving way, enough for a tumble. It should have been one, really, but I fell in the right direction and caught hold of the shower chair in time to stop myself from hitting the rather hard-floored deck.
Infected ankles and legs looked so much calmer this morning. I washed Little Inchy, Harold’s Hemorrhoids, dried them, and medicated them. Then, I creamed the on my forehead and arms. I sprayed the eye treatment on the lids and olive-oiled the earholes. I just remembered at the last minute that I’d not put the barrier cream on the tummy infection yet. So, I did! It’s hard work getting old, Haha!

I took the wet-room waste bag and amalgamated it with rubbish from the other two bins. Making two bags of waste, and took them to the front door.
The amazing blue-hued sky in this poor-quality photo I took from the kitchenette window is so pretty.
Although that’s not the word I wanted to use; it’ll do until I remember what it was. Mind-Blank here!

I got the laundry bag sorted. I must remember to ask someone to take it down for me later. Then, I double-checked that I had put in the wash capsule and softener. They were all present.

Blimus! The catheter day pouch had filled up quickly again. The colour looked very much healthier, too.
Bent down to empty the day pouch into the urine jug. As I was getting back upright… !
twinged into action. I was so surprised, with her being so kind to me lately. She hit me hard, and I took an extra Codeine 30g. She’s never hurt this bad before. But an hour or so later, the Codeine had done its job and had eased off. I’m so glad to report.

I scurried hobblingly back to the wet room . There was no doubt I made the right decision in rushing to get there. Whatever blockage stopped me from passing minutes ago, this time, was back in full charge of the procedure.
Wet but sticky, smelly and splashy! Cleaning things up took me a while.

I made a grand strong brew of Glengettie tea. Then, at long last, I got the computer on. No biscuits dunked. Was I getting more dedicated to the new diet? No, I let the drink go cold, getting into the blogging. Humph! A few hours later, I took a break. I needed it because I was fed up with making so many errors on the blog (grammatical and chronological).

I decided to open the socks that were delivered yesterday.
The cotton socks I wrongly ordered were a pack of 12 different-coloured socks. I must ask my brother-in-law Pete if he’d like to have them. They are long and warm. I’ll try to remember to ring and find out if he fancies them. Good quality they are.
The next pack contained 4 pairs of proper diabetic long socks. dark grey, I think. The Carer later put a pair of these on for me. Excellent fit, comfortable and warm.
The last pack included two pairs of knee-high bamboo socks. These looked far thinner and stretchier than those above, and they cost an awful lot more. I stored the socks, well, I say stored...

I took this snap of the late afternoon view with the sun and clouds. I am back on the blogging and have started creating the ode.

had once again filled up at a good rate of knots. Still a healthy colour, mind you.

I checked on the Asda order made for next week. To see if I needed anything taking off or adding to it. I took off three items and put a few on it. The original total was for £52.24. After toying with things, it now stands at £66.84!
When will I ever learn?

Another snap of the view of the sky. I went into one of my spells.
Can you see the bird, plane, or face as I did? Bearing in mind that is making me see double, a shadow of everything attached. So maybe you can’t see them. Hehe!

An early meal tonight.
Potato rostis, Dutch tomatoes, Anya potatoes, and caramelised pork sausages. With a sliced baguette. The Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle was well used. It went down well. I’m glad I remembered to eat early, thus avoiding the Carer calling just when I was starting to eat.

What’s wrong with the lower circle?
Fair enough, I can’t make out what it is.

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Keep Safe!

Indisposed Inchy: Wed 13 Mar 24 Another festive, fun day, I don’t say!

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I rose from my so-called sleep at 03:25 hrs. The nocturnal wee-wee was a better colour, but not much. Hehe!

The ankles were looking a lot better this morning.
The overnight were far less as well. They strike a little further up the leg each day, of course. Last night was my shortest sleep of the year, so the strikes ought to have been less. I just worked that out… amazing! Hahaha!

The waste bag was sorted into one, and I placed it near the door. At this point, I had a visit from . I’ve not had any sudden head-spins from him for a while. But fortunately, I was in the hallway at the time, less than an arm’s length away from the walls, to steady myself. I feared he might kick off again later, but he didn’t. Mind you, I did have the odd session from the routine. One during a visitation from Carer Kara.

I pondered over what to have for Nosh.
Lame or Cumberland pie & potatoes.
Undecided yet…

Finally, after much straying off and doing other things, I got the Tuesday blog done and posted.

appeared. We had a natter while he put on my socks and issued the medications. I remembered to ask him to remind me about taking the B17 vitamin tablet.

A little drizzle was falling, so IO went onto the balcony to take this shot of the end car park. The mudslide had been driven through a few times.

came but had little time; she checked the mail and bank letters for me. A financial visit. I’m sure there were things I wanted to ask her. She checked the emails with me, British Gas, the Bank and an unknown one. Kara said to leave it alone; it’s not a danger.

We then had a little mist for an hour or two.

I had all sorts of problems with the computer. I spent many hours on it, stopping when I got brain fog and didn’t know what to try or not risk changing. I’d nip out to take a photo or two of the view. Getting back to find I’d forgotten what and where I was with the computer. But I was still getting messages that: Your hard drive is full, and I could not save anything at all! After clearing out so much artwork and saving graphics, I finally, hours later, was able to save the work I’d done on CorelDraw. This fiasco was enough for anyone to lose it, but me? No, there had to be another problem, didn’t there?

I finally got around to downloading the photos I’d taken: I’d DONE IT AGAIN! With the worry over the computer, I’d left the SD card out of the camera; no photos! I gave up on the computer and made a meal.

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Cumberland pie and a few potato chunks roasted in the oven to go with it.

arrived just as I’d finished the meal. That was jolly good timing from Israel! He removed the socks and medicated me.

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I got them, but it took me a lot longer than the given eleven seconds to get there.

Fare Thee All Well!

Ireful Inchy: Friday 8th March 2024

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Yet another sad day, concentration-wise. I swear I was more out of it than with it for the majority of the day.
Doing the blogging, or trying to, I’d wander off to the Porcelain Throne; on the way back, I’d see some bits on the hallway floor and get the hoover out. A Carer calls, and my attention varies. The ten-minute Carer’s call was over, and I’d forgotten about finishing the hoovering and moved on to check what was in the fridge to cook for my meal for tonight. I returned to the computer and was amazed that so little was done on it. Searching for a Local News Snippet on the Your Area News site, something reminded me of my youth. I spent ages casting back my mind to my horrendous school days, musing at my bad choices, the bullies, the neighbours, etc.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and found that the hot water tap had been left on and had run cold.
Stubbing my toe en route back to the computer, I could not find my notepad with the scribbled reminders to use. A seizure or mind-blank took over, and suddenly, the pain from a PN electric shock in the leg (it’s moved up from the ankle now) brought me back from wherever I was, and it dawned that I’d been AWOL for two hours or so. As I stood up, the pain from the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie was excruciating. I felt the warm wetness as the blood flowed down from the PPs onto my leg and off to the wet room for cleaning and medicationalisationing.
When I came out, I set about setting up the template for the blog, not realising that I’d already done that and had some work to do. More time lost. No doubt I did many other things; the proof was in the few photographs I found on Kodak Tim’s SD card. These also prompted some remembrances. But what I did most of the day was a part of the mystery.
I reclaimed a degree of awareness of things, but not until the evening Carer called. I think Carer Sam came and put some prescriptions in the medical drawer. Vagueness is the word to describe today, I guess.
Belatedly doing, the nurse’s ode flowed easily. And although, as per usual, I was getting so tired and weary, which in itself was another mystery cause I’d done bugger all today.
I didn’t even get back to this blog until late Saturday morning! I think I’ll add Confusion to Vagueness.
Ah, yes, Carer Maryham did the first call. (I think) She was not very well; I think she had caught the ‘Bug’, bless her. I seem to recall worrying about her.
Only a few photos to go on, with the odd prompted memory added where I had one…
Thank heavens, I at least got the top graphics done early. I’m waffling well, ain’t I?

Front car park, from the kitchen window.

Misty morning.

Late morning, I think.

The new bed, with the fall-out bar and a slide-under-table. It’s comfy enough for me!

It looked like the road resurfacing was all done.

Afternoon or teatime sky.

I missed the sunset due to a mind-blank.
But took this as I went to make a meal.

See the difference twixt reality (above),
and how it looked on the box?
Most disappointing taste, too!

All the bestest!

Inactivated Inchy: Monday 4th March 2024

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Good Morning!
Photo kindly taken by Carer Maryham after she helped me wash & shave and get dressed. ♥

Dark wee-wee, bloodied pee!

A red-hued morning view.
Tsk!

Computer on, and reduced some things on the order for the week after next from J. Sainsbury.

Made up the bed. Well, flung a quilt over it.

Today’s fodder order arrived.
Not a lot this time.

Took these shots.
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These came out okay.

Computed for a couple of hours. Then, I made a brew to dunk some of my sugarless biscuits.
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Taste Rating: 3/10.

Took two shots of the kitchen window view.

Then arrived. At this stage, I was doing well mentally… no, that’s a fib! I was not doing too badly in the concentration stakes. We had a little natter after she’d medicated me and checked the taps and cooker.
After departed, things took a long lasting turn for the worse. The started. I was using the small blue plastic
picker-upperer, and as I leant down to retrieve the dropped hearing aid, I injured the picker-upperer. Bent it rather acutely… it’s not working. Now… I may have said an assortment of naughty words.
So, I was frustrated and self-critical as the landline burst to life. The Physiotherapist made sure I was aware of his arrival. Haha!
The gentleman arrived minutes later. But with my having just broken the picker-upperer, my mind was all over the place. What I can recall, is he tested both & s abilities, by my lifting the legs as far as I could without too much pain. Won that competition easily. He asked if the walker was better now that he’d mended the ‘wiggle’ on the right handlebar, and I thanked him, as it was a lot easier to use now. Many questions were answered, hopefully correctly, by me. But details of them have now gone into the ether. I recall losing what I spoke of a few times and feeling foolish. The man was understanding about this. I think my using the bed was referred to. He said he’s had a word with my doctor about the cartilage. Maybe it’s more pain relief. Almost sure. Ah, I did tell him of getting more frequent now I’m using the bed. But I sense that an awful lot more was discussed.

Variety is the spice of life. Hahaha!

I found on the reminder notepad that I’d scribbled what I thought was Rachael. No idea why?

Eventually, at long last, I started updating Sunday’s blog and got it posted very late in the day. I was now getting exhausted & weary. And just had to give up the blog working. I may get up early in the morning and try to start early on it… or not.

I got the stew and potatoes cooking and put the TV on… Oh dearie! I was baffled by this message that came up!

The remote control, was not affecting anything I tried to get to the later button to click on it. Then I dug out the Bush TV remote, which the engineer who fitted it up told me I would not use, and he said to throw it away; it was not needed. I tried to see if that would work to get to the set-up button, but that wasn’t doing anything either. So now, paying three times as much as before for the TV & phone service, which I didn’t want anyway but got conned into taking, and having to buy a Smart TV to use the service… I’m left without any TV at all! I don’t know if the message was from or the Bush television people? I need help here; if anyone can and knows what I can do, please chip in. I’ll ask a Carer if they can phone for me. It said a reset will be needed, that scares me; I could lose my internet service?
Depressed again now!

Got the fodder served up, but I was not in a good mood to enjoy it. But still ate it ravenously.

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Took two-night shots from the kitchen window. Well, I’d not TV to watch. I spent £400, and £88 a month, and may end up with no landline, or computer supply… I’ve virtually lost the TV anyway. Grrr!
The first artistic one. Haha!
The second one.

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I’m fuming, frustrated, frumpy, fed-up, frightened, frazzled, and flagitated. Fighting a ferocious fiend, fragmenting my brain & body, without any help, physiatrics or therapy! Did I write that?

Keep Safe, each!

Inanity Inchy: Sun 3rd Mar 24 – Ayup Midducks!

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Night Pouch.

Ablutions and medications done.

Carer 07:25hrs. The chap was unfamiliar with Winwood Heights. I thought I heard knocking on the door, (He did not press the door chime) and he walked in as I was doing so. He asked me about what needed doing, but being me and with my memory, I couldn’t recall anything about the dosages or which were due. He soon mastered it after reading the instructions on the folder. During which He phoned head office I thought.
Then the landline burst out and flashed. It was Sister Jane, who said someone had called her from the Carers, but rang off. Nae bother, I said, telling her the carer was here. Nice chap, got the meds done all good.

Two hours later.

Made up the waste bags.

Must remember to ask the Carer to take the laundry down with them for me.

Did my best to take a snap of the morning view.
Tried again. Although it came out wrong again, it did have the appearance of modern art?
The third effort was like the first two. Hehe!
Aha, not too bad this one.

Pressed on with the CorelDrawing.

Suddenly felt hungry. So I had what I thought would be my evening meal early. A frozen cottage pie, the last brown baguette with sausages, and an orange jelly.

Took this photo, followed 5 minutes after…
of one to the left.

Later the mist fell…

A little later, as I was taking this one as the mist descended, Carer Richard arrived. He heard about the bed being used for the first time tonight. And sorted things, moved them around and readied the bed for me, bless him. And he was not feeling too good himself. I appreciated that.

Well, it looked like yet another fire was going in Sherwood. I assumed it was maybe the cannabis growers burning the used stalks and plants, though. No Fire engines appeared.