Sleep deprivation continues – Page 8

INCHIE TODAY – Sunday 29th January 2023

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Inchies Ode Today was inspired by Timothy Price Photographer extraordinaire and Jolly Good Cyber-Mate

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It’s been an… erm, er… well. an interesting month so far.
I’ve been given a rubber wristlet for DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). A Diabetes rubber wristlet. These will decorate my wrists along with the On Warfarin, Allergic To Clopidogrel, Hard of Hearing, and the new last week, Dementia alert bands. The Cataract – Vision – Impaired one has not arrived yet.
I’ve checked the box of the options on the Doctor’s letter. In answer to the Question: Where Would You Like To Die, at Home or in a Hospital?

Now after the initial rushing me into the hospital when I woke up with blood coming from Little Inchie and the Haemorrhoid-ridden rear end.
I think this was four weeks ago. The Paramedics took to the QMC, A&E.

Where the medicos must have forced two gallons of warm water down my throat to get the wee-wee flowing through Little Inchy, as opposed to Catheter Cathy’s Contraption. I had the catheter put in and taken out about six times, which for me with Phimosis and the Fungal Lesion – not to mention having the smallest willy I’ve ever seen (I’ve seen ten-year-olds with a bigger one than I). This is why the in and the outing of the tube were so painful for me. And it really was testing my pain limit… mind you, it still is at this very moment. I was on the computer and listening to the new tenant’s TV blasting away upstairs. (I assume. He or she might be getting the flat sorted, which accounts for the occasional clunks and thuds. Herbert Mark Two? Haha!

No problem, though; I’ll get used to it. Just take out the hearing aids.
They did bladder scans, and some on a big machine. But gave up and sent me to the City Hospital Urology Department. Patience Ward Two.

Where Patience was at a premium. Urology was just as baffled as the QMC staff were. They had the catheter in and out over the next day, at least eight times; despite gulping down at least two gallons of water, getting to use Little Inchie for wee-weeing was a failure. They (Urology) summoned me back to have a… I’ve forgotten what it was called now.

Ah, I’ve got it now (just looked it up on the Internet). A Cystoscopy, a CT scan of the urinary tract, and a urine culture. Still, no reason was found, so the catheter has now been on for about 4-5 weeks. The walk to the Doctor, half a mile at most, took me nearly two hours! I had to keep stopping cause the pain was so bad. I got the surgery, told the Doctor, and hose said: “Talk to Urology”. It’s great to be so cared for, innit?
Anyway, since the tumble I had getting on the trolly at the hospital, week one: I had another fall. Week two: two Accifauxpas. Week three: Just the one; it wasn’t a bad one. Week four: Three tumbles, and two, one seriously, walking-into-solid-objects. The wet room door, and then the junk room door frame. Which started and produced a , that had me over – but I fell on the two bags of laundry that has not been collected. I’m glad they were days late now. Hehehe!
Today, the wee-wee into the bags seemed a little better. I reckon I’ve emptied the around ten times! And the blood in it was far less than yesterday’s was.
Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe… perhaps!
The attaching did not take place. No Carer arrived to attach it for me. I believe they were struggling with staffing problems and possibly the hospitalisationing of another tenant. No bother, I kept waking up overnight anyway, and I remembered to check the small day bag each time. Emptied it three times. No sweat!

With all the nocturnal activities of emptying the pouch, I didn’t get up until 07:30hrs. Little sluggard! The was at bursting point, I managed to get it emptied before any disaster!

arrived as I was making a brew. Got the medications sorted, and he helped me ready the bin bags for him to take. Said how busy he was. Thanked him profusely.

I left the hot water tap running again!

The pain from Little Inchie was still bad and stayed that way all day & night. and cobblers!

then Came at teatime.

Late morning view.

and later came.

Hyper-One Again.

Mid-Morning views.
A lot of white cars?

Catheter emptying. Nice and like colour this moring.

Magnificent Sunsetting this evening!

Catheter is ready for emptying.
Is that a twinge of blood in there, I see?

Sunset bying down…
Eerie colours changing…
Still beautiful…
A minute later, the last blast from the dying sun…

Looks like a two-tone of blood in the Catheter…
That’s a better piccy.
But look at the blood in it!!!
Argh!

Started emptying it – rich red blood…
Looks to be thinning at the end…
Almost bubbling now? Can you see a cat’s face in there?

Starting to make the evening Meal and, arrived.
He was looking fitter tonight but not a happy laddie. But soon cheered up when he got the new night bags to put on the day pouch. These ones had the plastic grip so you could hang them up. Sorted the medications, and we had a little chinwag. Np putting the world to rights, but we did manage a bit of cheer for each other.

When the night bag was on, the blood started to flow in dribs and drabs.
But, oh so slowly.
The long extension tube often stops the flow, and I feel the build-up in my bladder, and have to shake the blood through.

Richard showed me how to use the Air-Fryer, and he put some alphabet potato letters in it and left to get on with his other jobs.

Fifteen minutes later, the fryer gave out a ping that, luckily, I was in the kitchen to hear. What an alarm timer with one ping, and that was my lot!
The potato letters tasted great, all crispy on the outside.
The spuds I did in the slow cooker. The tomatoes were just about acceptable tastewise (Italian, not good this time of year). And the ersatz mini-franks were surprisingly excellent! Soya based methinks

Got this blog finished and posted off.

TTFNski, EACH!

INCHIE TODAY: Wednesday 25th January 2023

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I got away with it; no harm done!

I’m hoping that a supply of a new , or even a week’s supply, will arrive today. Single-use only the night catheters, the day ones for seven days, I think. But it’s 17:15 hours already. Maybe one or some has gone to the Meridian office and will be brought by a night carer to fit for me? My fingers are crossed on that!

A prayer to get the last week’s two bags of laundry done as well. A talk with Mr G about the possibility of getting the bleeding and pain stopped from . My fingers are crossed on that one as well!

The immediate concern is over my Kryptonite – Sleep!
Two hours was all I got last night – and no chance of catching up on it presented itself today. Dependent on whether or not I can get a or not is vital! If perchance, one doesn’t arrive (Albeit the chances are it will), I’m going to be in dire straits, up the creek without a paddle, up a gum tree, in the soup, harassed, a bag of nerves, and a very tired & frustrated old chap!

And to think, when I met the doctor yesterday to copy for the DNR option, she asked if I’d sooner die at home or in a hospital?
If she knew about the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me; she’d not have asked me in the first place. Hehehe!

Anyroad, another getting nothing done day here in Del Trotter Towers flats.
Fair enough, there was the usual bleeding, confusionalitis, frustrations and possibly an increase in moments of self-loathing. But I’m too tired to go into them at this moment. Here is the pathetic Inchie Today Diary.

Misty morning

Computer problems

No idea why I took these two?

Ah, fancy that…
The Famously Crap Internet is down…

Not weeing much?

20:20hrs now.
Tired.
I’ve put a meal in the heated oven.
Worried about getting a Hopefully, it will come.
And some really needed catch-up sleep.

Back later.
Likely in the morning.
Unless I have to stay awake…
Humph!

Late Morning Update

Arrived, unfortunately, without any of the bags, so another sleep-depriving night to get through. Still, as it happened, it worked out well tonight. (It was a jumping awake every few minutes session and each time I checked on the . I emptied it only three times.)

Got the medications sorted, and we had a little laugh and nattering session. Shame about the lack of a night bag, though. But it’s not Richard’s fault. He did his best. As I mentioned above, it worked out okay as it happens. I think the storage in the bladder caused the bleeding in the urine again. I reheated the meal and made it crusty line top. Mmm!

♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫

A Spiffing ready-made meal.
Potatoes, lardons, with BBQ sauces and some
Milk Roll bread. I dropped the flipping pot
of soya lemon yoghourt, and it landed in the
waste bin and burst open. I just covered it
with kitchen towels. Fell in the right place?

Got the dishes washed, and I took this picture of the
evening view. Not a good one, but still.

Keep Safe, Each!

INCHIE TODAY: Saturday 14th January 2023

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I stirred. Past wind and then blood from . It was a struggle to remove, and finally I did, & But being the fave heroic, pain-taking, sod-em-all that I am, it was no sweat taking the agony from the Mystery-Rib-pains as I bent down. , well Hehe! I stopped crying anyway. There was not much wee-weeing done overnight again.
I went to the wet room on a mission of several natures: To clean up the blood from the legs, pants and jammie bottoms. Respond to the need of the Clean the teeth, have a shave, wash & medicate my delicates, front and rear… but these plans were destroyed completely by the being in charge for weeks of rear-end evacuations, . The seine caught me out big time this morning!
, he kicked off spurting and spraying the porcelain, tank floe and me with his watery gooey, stinking light brown excrement.
Embarrassed doesn’t seem a strong enough word to use for how I felt, somehow. Ashamed? Uncomfortable? No... It’s even cringeworthy writing about it. I should have left this bit out, shouldn’t I? Sorry! But it’s how things are nowadays. How my life has dwindled to a fight to do the simplest things is so disheartening. There’s always something to impede the simplest of actions, even threatening to go right.
Appointment either waited on, transport to be arranged for. Worried in case the time and dates would clash when they did arrive. Cataract repair and new Cornea at the QMC EENT Centre. They cannot do the cataract in the left eye until the right one is done and settled. Then there is Glaucoma in the left eye; and Saccade in the right eye… Tsk! I’ll never live long enough to get them done! I was looking forward to seeing what St. Peter looks like at the gates, as well. Hehehe!
The Coppice, next visit in February. Brain Scans are to be done to find out which type of Doreen Dementia I have.
The DVT Clinic and the Warfarin anticoagulation Clinic appointments have been cancelled and may or may not be reissued.
The Audio Clinic is desperately needed with the satiate of my ears and hearing. The crap, dodgy dentists, I can’t get another NHS one with the state of things with all the strikes etc.
Going back in apparently in a fortnight, as the catheters are not clearing the bladder of urine at all.
Then the Urology nurses will be calling to check on the catheter and give me more bladder scans. Hopefully, not changing the catheters too often – that’s a damned painful process. Since the urine infections started, when I found blood in the urine and passed it from the rear end, about six weeks ago, I had a change of catheters; 3 times at the QMC A&E, Eight times; in the ward. And four times on home visits by the nurses. Although the pain might be worth it.

The Warfarin nurse will be taking blood to work out the INR level – and that’s well out of target.

The mystery pains in the ribs side and back still need sorting out. I’ve mentioned them twice to the Doctors, once at the Urology and to the Carers here. They are acute stabbing pains that come on when I stretch with the right arm or raise it too high. Oh, and if I bend down…

But one must look on the bright side of life, as Brian said. At least no one has shot me for nearly 22 years. This prompts me to tell you that the Mystery Rib pains hurt more than being shot! But does anyone show interest or concern about the old fool? No!
I got carried away there, didn’t I?

You see, one day, someone will read this blog – hopefully, a neurologist who can help me with the , or heavens above, with the guilty of giving me many a tumble … or not.

Where was I before I lost the plot? Look at the time, blimey! 15:15hrs already. Back to the Diary, methinks. I’ll have to cut this short.

The kind, caring. vampire in the flat above. launched into one of his clunk-thudding mechanical serenades.
Give him credit; he is a good musical noise maker.
Fair enough, he may be impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable tit-head, but his clanging and banging are ringing out musically this morning. I was nearly sorry when he stopped so soon.

I mopped the kitchen with the speed-mop. This proved to be such a mistake. Trying to mop with a stick in one hand, mop in the other, and stupidly bending and stretching to get into the corners – kicked off the bloody mystery rib pains stagging away, as bad as they’ve ever been, and they kept on for hours and hours. And I still haven’t got around to teeth cleaning, shaving and washing yet!

Carer Kara called – medications done, chinwag for a bit, and catheter checked.

Fourth trip to the throne. Usual Trotsky Terence performance

Two bags of laundry still to do in the junk room. Can’t remember who, Carer Kara or Carer Lisa (guessing here, can’t remember who came, really). But the bags had gone later.

Took these photos in two different modes on the Lumix.
Can’t see much difference in them anyway.

Blogging away for hours… well, a say blogging away; it was more like making errors and errors and throwing in a few more for good measure.
And the were rather numerous, which cost me a lot of time.

No idea why I took this photograph of the carer’s table. I wonder if it was some inspirational idea for a sauciness for some sort of a laugh?
Suppose not.

Almost got caught out again with the new small catheter pouch.
I soon had it sorted out.

The Virgin Internet is far too slow for me and has the odd freezing moment? Not very good at all.

Did I mention the tea and porridge?

Or crap parking?

Milky wee-wee?
No, it’s Dettol, you see.

Better get some food sorted out.
Photo Lost: Due to my leaving the SD card in the computer when I took the shot.
But I also blame … and the! Well, why not?

After cleaning the pots and making a brew afterwards, the immediate urge to use the arrived, and I rushed to the wet room…
I did not make it in time. The sticky, gooey, runny evacuation started before I’d got the pants and PPs beyond the mess of the catheter paraphernalia.

I am sick of this happening. Telling the doctors brought no response from any one of them; Doctor’s Locum at the surgery, QMC A&E, or the three Doctors I told when at the .
Now, the Mystery Rib Stabbing Pains got worse than they had ever been before. It was properly painful and came on, as usual, every time the right hand pressed on something, stretched, or was raised.
I suppose the panic rushing to get to the Throne and struggle with the trews must have been too much movement, and this kicked it off?
Arrived, she tried to ring 111, but she could not get through. Which was not surprising for a Saturday night. The winos, drunks, injured gang members etc., would all be blocking up the A&E and telephone lines by now.

Returned for the final call and Night Catheter fitting.
Meanwhile, I had a wash & shave and bagged up some things that might be needed if I go to the hospital again. Then Jo-Anne and Carer Ty called to see how I was.

I found that if I did not move, the stabbing pains in the ribs were coming less often and not so sharp. Or was I imagining this?

The physical and mental decrepitude. The obliteration of sight, hearing and logic. Combined with a lack of confidence, my ability to fret and worry over everything, and the vain attempts to understand life and people. Combined with my failure to comprehend what and why the hell am I doing here… keeps the brain active, if nothing else. If the brain was not under the control of , and the body ruled by Ailments such as, things could be better!

TTFNski!

Inchie Today – Wednesday 11th January 2023

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THE PAROLE BOARD WILL CUT IT SHORT!

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DVT Nurse, then the Urology Nurse Fiona, who called twice; First, to take off the catheter and scan the bladder and returned to scan again. She was not so happy with this one. and to see how and if the urine was flowing. She’s coming back tomorrow to do another bladder scan, with ink inserted. And if necessary, to put the catheter back in. Oh, dearie me! Amazon delivery. Important letters arrived. Trotsky Terence was in full charge of the many messy Porcelain Throne usages. I took a tumble in the hallway. Got to stop taking the Anti whatsit capsules… but may need to start taking them tomorrow according to the ink reading results on the scanner. I’m thoroughly confused now. Although this is nothing unusual.

Burnt fingers on the oven. Then I lost the mobile phone. Found it four hours later… I prefer not to say where I found it… Oh, go in then… It was in the oven!?!? Luckily the oven was not on. The question is, why and how did I put it in there in the first place? Pass!

So, an even busier day, the photos and graphics will get put on. Many memory blanks, it’s getting late already and I’ve not started the blog graphics yet.

Two morning photos were taken between the multitude of messy, spongy, gooey visits suffered.
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Potatoes are put in a slow cooker around 08:00hrs.
Got taken out around 21:00hrs.

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Got the Night Catheter off.

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The eighth visit to the .

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The ninth visit to the .

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Nurse Fiona arrived, she was a breath of fresh air, Bless Her! (Yes, I fell in love again!) She was here for well over an hour. When she’d painlessly removed the catheter from Little Inchie, she did a bladder scan.
Too much urine in the bladder. Back to water drinking. That amount of urine should have been released into the catheter. She said she’ll return later in the afternoon to have a look. Constantly reminding me to drink, drink, drink! Hehe!
So I drunk!

The Asda order arrived

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Made sure I guzzled water while putting the food away!

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Delivery

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Bit naughty with the biscuits?

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Cut back on this order

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Although… maybe not enough? Haha!

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When Fiona returned, I’d shrank a two-litre bottle of Valley Spring water. A one-litre Sunrise water and a flavoured 2-litre Elm Water.
I showed Fiona the water bottle for the urine and the drops I’d passed, and Fiona seemed happy enough with my efforts. She asked me to try and pass again, which I did, but not a lot. Seeing the liquid changed her mood a smidgen, And she did another bladder scan there and then.
She, or someone else, will return tomorrow with a different scanner. I don’t think she was impressed with whatever it was that the scanner revealed. She repeated that if I can’t pass more water, they will have to refit the Catheter in the morning; if so, I’m to restart taking the Acute Pyelonephritis capsules.
It’s all go here!

Teatime rains

Around 19:30 hrs. Wonderful sky!

Carer Kara and Joseph called during the day. Kara will try to contact Easy-Link to get a lift to the Coppice Mental Health Hospital for me. And contact Easy Link about whether or not I owe them or they’ve taken the money out.

Well, fancy that!

Straps were left by Fiona in case the catheter has to go back on tomorrow.
at the thought of it!

Fiona left reminders for me about things. I can’t remember what they were at the moment. They were for the carers as well, I think.

Did the late call on me. Checked the Meds, taps, and cooker. He wrote a message in marker pen on the fridge door, as he knew I was abbot to cook my belated meal of the day, to remind me to turn off the taps and cooker.

Early morning nosh prepared.
Very nice, too, it was.
Flavour Rating 8.5/10.

Evening all – No! – MORNING ALL

INCHIE TODAY – Tuesday 10th January 2023

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Another ran out-of-time-day. Sorry if it is out chronologically,
mistakes-wise or if other errors appear. Mostly been created from photos and what few memory notes I scribbled – the brain seems to have gone on strike! It’s the in thing nowadays!

Took the catheter bag of myself this morning – I had to cause the need of the Porcelain Throne was urgently needed, and with the other clarities etc., over the last two days with tripping and treading on the tubing, I thought it best.
Over the first hour of actioning, my magnificent muscular, fit handsome body from the terrible night’s sleep, I had to use the Throne no less than four times! Every one of them was messy and gooey, with cleaning ups needed.
After the first session, I decided to get the ablutioning done.
Part way through, I was trying to stop the third shaving cut from bleeding at the time; I had to use the Throne again.
Suddenly flooded the mouth, I think I must have broken off a bit of tooth near the gum. I got up automatically to get some toilet paper to use to stem the flow… but the evacuation was still taking place.
I did genuinely feel . Nothing new there, then! It took me ages to clean up again, and I was beginning to get self-irritated!

Back to the front room, now attired in my day clothes but no socks, I’ll ask my mate to help with those. A bit nippy this morning.

After a while of computing, the catheter started itching. The catheter bag’s elastics had dropped down the leg.

However, Richard arrived then. He got the medications sorted and told me I had to take the new Antibiotic course again, starting now. So, I did.
He then told me, as I showed him the calendar… I’d put the Catheter removal on a wrong day, it was today, not tomorrow, so I changed it.

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I asked him if he’d help me get the specks on, please.
He said it would be best to ask the nurse/s when she/they take off
the catheter to put them on for you. To avoid any hassle while removing it? So I said I would. I’ll get something right today… surely I must?
Gave him some treats in thanks, and Richard checked the taps and stove.
Off he sent on his rounds. Bade him all the best and thanked him.

An hour or so later, when I was busily making cock-ups, and mistakes and forgetting what it was I was going to write after correcting the grammar I’d already written… I think? The was needed again.
But this time, unlike the eleven visits I’d made yesterday, had lost his grip on the process, and from nowhere, unexpectedly, my old friend had taken over command…

I was getting fed up with getting nowhere with the crosswords for ages. Counter the cracks on the ceiling… even had to give up on that. and are getting slowly worse. I picked my nose, whistled, and eventually, a mini-evacuation shot out of its own accord – the movement was over in seconds! annoying somehow.

Ah, a Highlight Event!
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The beautiful DVT-Warfarin Haematology nurse arrived as I was getting off of the . I thought at first it was the door chime ringing, and rushed to get the trews up, got out of the wet room door (And casually shoulder charged the door frame as I left the room), and realised it was the intercom going (It being lit-up helped me notice it, Hehe!)
Hristina asked me how the hospital visit went as she came in. Now that was lovely of her! ♥ And she listened when I told her, too! Wonderful!

Computing again. I decided this time, I would focus on a venom. I was tenacious in my determination to concentrate on what I was trying to do.
I think I went into a slight . It didn’t last long…

Mistakes, ha! Sometimes I see them as thumbing my nose at the puritans. That phrase I stole from a fellow WordPress blogger & poet named Paul. Thanks, mate! I’ve been waiting for a suitable time to use it. (And remember it!

Visits from, and a nasty, but very rare in a sat down position put an end to my planned venture into pretending I could be capable again.
Instead of acting like a wordsmith and getting on with the blogging, I had to go to the wet room to try and stop bleeding. Yes, the dance had tugged at the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… bloody? Bloody sore at this moment still! Even delicate might be the word. Tsk!

But it turned out lucky that I did go to the wet room.
The catheter pouch was on the point of bursting, I think. Again, I had a job to pull up the trouser leg, so dropped them instead and emptied the bag

I decided to get the potato out of the crock-pot. checked that it was cooked before she checked the taps and turned off the heater for me.

I sliced the overcooked potato and got it in the oven with the last of the potato rostis in the oven to crisp them up. The last of the tomatoes and the vegan frankfurters (which tasted great!) and along with the last of the pots of strawberry jam thingumajig dessert.

Later, not sure what happened between this and the last thing, a touch of , methinks.
I do recall taking these pictures, though. I’m pretty sure I took them in SCN Handheld Nightshot Mode.

Not that they came out very well, although the bottom one of the car park was not too bad. A touch of eeriness about it? Obviously, the first one was taken like that on purpose. Ahem!

Arrived for the late-night call, and I was watching TV.
We had a little natter, and Richard changed the catheter night bag.
We had a minute or two of pleasant nattering away, but the lad was ready for his bed, bless his cotton socks. I went with him, catheter bag in hand, to the door and locked it when Rich had left. They don’t like me doing this, but I can’t get the picture of the yobboes who came into the flat one night. If the key-safe would work for use, it would not be a problem.

Then I got on the computer again, re-determined to get it done.

MYSTERY PHOTO

Not sure how I managed to take this photo. It must have been as I was on the computer, and the TV was still on. Trigger-Finger Problems? Hehe!

Rotten night again. Forever waking up with a jolt!
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Inchie Today: Saturday 24th December 2022

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02:30hrs: Woke up for the umpteenth time, but not with , but the need for the And what a change in style this morning it was! I got seated on the throne and knew it would be advisable to get the crossword book out. Nothing was moving, yet the tummy told me there was a dollop needing to be evacuated.
was in command of things, and he was not going to be rushed. I actually got a few clues answered as I waited for the action to begin. I thought it was comical when it did burst out… all of it in seconds, a blessed relief from the travel pains, followed by multiple plop-plopping sounds. And it was all over. No bleeding, no mess! I am not sure if the released product reminded me of hazelnuts or chocolate peanuts, but fell for the nuts cause they were harder. The WC needed only one flush to clear the contents away, and I felt rather good; I expected things to be more painful, messier and take much longer. No help or urging from me was needed at all. However, having been fooled before, .

Tackled then. Toothache Tiffany followed my breaking off another bit of a tooth.
Not such a good shaving session; back to the old habits of multiple nicks and cuts. About six, I think. The main reason is my own stupidity. After my first two nicks, I got out two new razors and dished the old ones – But No, I found out later I hadn’t! What I did was throw the new razors into the waste bin and carry on shaving using the duff old ones!

More Followed in the medicalisationing activities.
Made a bigger mess of missing the eyes with the drops than ever before!
Had to conserve the Germoloid cream for. I forgot to get another tube when I went to the pharmacy on Tuesday. Yes, I swore at myself rancorously!
I was so close to taking a Galpharm capsule in mistake for a Senna to help free ‘s grip on the rear-end workings. Just imagine if I had taken one… That could have been a right pickle and mess I’d put myself into again! A genuine bit of good luck that I realised in time!

But, of course, my smugness was short-lived. Putting the olive oil in, I somehow squeezed the rubber, and the oil flowed, I dropped the slippery bottle, and it landed with perfect precision: right on my left foot’s . It made me jump a smidgeon. Of course, I took it all in my stride, grinned and laughed off the agony.

I dropped the tube of Germolene due to an unexpected sudden and I dropped tube, and totally without thinking, I bent down to pick it up !
Oh, I’ve mentioned my new ailment yet, have I? I’ll introduce you to it then. Not easy giving it a name cause I’m not sure what it is yet.
Pains similar to , but around, the back of the rib cage. At first, I thought I must have banged something when I took the tumble on whatever day it was. But Carer whatshername could see no bruising.
Then I thought it might be something to do with bladder and urine infection coming back again.
Then I changed my mind cause I found the ribs hurting when I tried to lift my right arm; and if I tried to bend down at all. No idea if means anything, but had given many more bouts of the shakes this morning than she did all of last week?
Now, over the last eight hours, there have been times when there were no stabbing pains at all (unless I bent or raised my right arm), but the sharp stabbing pains always return and stay longer than the moments of relief.

I thought at first, well, it’s good luck that I have made (Carer TY did, actually), an appointment to see the Doctor. Then it dawned on me, it is 15 days away!
So, I’ve been at the analgesics more than I would have liked. But needs must. Is that the right saying? Needs must? Grammarly has not objected?

Right now, as I am typing my errors and mistakes on this blog, has just kicked of with her most violent attack of the day yet. But the stabbing pains in the ribs are now far less frequent? I’m confused… but that’s nothing new.

The last Accifauxpa of the , was only one of the regulars… No, having said that, I’ve done this for weeks, I don’t think? It was a bog-standard shoulder charge at the edge of the wet room door on leaving it. . And… please note this – there were no revenge shakings from . I’ve confused myself even more now?

It’s taken so long to get up to here on this blog – Blog time at 07:00hrs, but the real-time is now… sod it, the clocks stopped, battery kaput, methinks. I’ll get the spyglass and look at the computer clock… hang on… 15:18hrs, I just will not have time to put everything in detail now. Shorthand from here on folks, sorry me hearties!

Worked on updating and making mistakes on the Friday blog (4 hours). Got it posted. Pinterested. A massive amount of comments had come in on WordPress, so I replied to it. (One. Hehehe!) Emailed the link.

Carer Jamina arrived around 07:30hrs. A new gal to me. Lovely lady. Had a natter after giving me the medications. She checked the taps and stove on leaving, taking the waste bags to the chute for me. ♥

Went on WordPress Reader. But it wouldn’t give me access to some sites?

The Tap-tapping, bang-banging, drilling gentleman in the flat above kicked off again. Amazingly he was not too noisy this morning.

Pressed on, making error after mistake and hitting the wrong buttons and icons in my effort to get the Ode for the day done and Nottingham News graphics done. Harder work than ever now with the eyes so bad. I do love trying.
Sorry for any errors that get through!.

Here are the early morning photographs from the kitchen. I nearly forgot them. Tsk!
Not too bad.

Had to keep going for wee-wees regularly throughout the day.

I don’t think I’ve taken so many in such a short time (six hours) before. Then again, thinking back, maybe I have; Hehe!

I just took my fourth trip to the Porcelain Throne.

I think Herbert must be going out today. Mayhap delivering some of the steam-powered toy trains to the kids at the school? All quiet now!
11:30hrs Carer Kara Arrived! I asked about the cleaner lady I’m paying for who had not called for three weeks. Kara looked at this week’s roster, and she’s on it… no, next week’s roster.

I pressed on, making cock-ups and mistakes on this blog for hours.

So tired now, with my getting up so early. Going to make something to eat, methinks some potato Rostis, tomatoes and rolls? Yes, with some BBQ sauce, of course. I might not be back until morning… then again, I may get up early again and make a start on updating this blog…
Or not.

Whoops, not done the Health Checks.

Smug-Mode-Adopted – Yee-ha!

A photo of the half-eaten meal of the day is here on the right. Vegan bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis, Orange yoghourt, and two brown rolls.
With my usual BBQ sauce.
Despite the and that kicked off as I started digesting this feast of flavour, I still enjoyed it muchly. Flavour Rating: 8.8/10!

Washed the pots… but when I got in the kitchen to do them, I found that I’d left the darned hot water tap running… Again! Self-cursing began!

Zzz! Deep sweet sleep… heavenly… I think I was having a tête-à-tête with St. Peter at his gates at one point. Well, more of an argument, really; he wanted to send me back to life again. No Way! Not with the everyday agony of the ailments, struggling with hearing, seeing, and the Mental-Torture of Dementia Doreen – I wasn’t having that! And, she’s given me aboulomania!
I was woken up when the 21:15hr late check call arrived at 22:10hrs. I recall the gal apologising for being late but little else. My chronology clock was all topsy-turvy. I remembered the Toblerone for her cause it wasn’t in the treats box this morning, so I got something right.
Locked the door as she departed. (I know this cause it was locked in the morning).

Got off back to sleep, but this time it was full of the usual repeated, regular pullulating jerking awake with the twitching right shoulder, and often knocking something off of the ottoman as the limbs flail! That’s not right, is it? I did tell the Doctor about this. The response I got was an odd down-the-nose look that said to me: “The man’s potty!” followed by, let me know if it gets worse. What’s she waiting for, the arm to drop off? Or, for me, to pass away through sleep deprivation? It’s a lot worse now with extra waking-ups from the unaccountable …

Still, yer don’t like to complain, does yer.

TTFNski!

Another year, nearly, yet – still time to regret!

Inchie Today: Monday 19th December 2022

Monday 04:30hrs: After another abysmal night’s lack of sleep, I gave up. and had, between them, given me the third sleepless night in a row. The Angina was the worst it’s ever been. A series of reasons, of course, are all confusing.

Who can we blame, then?
Well, on first thoughts, they were the people who assured me that they would be handling, ordering, fetching, monitoring and issuing the prescriptions.
But let’s be fair to them. They lost the Carer who did most of the monitoring, that was , taken ill last Monday. The poor lad was going to return today, they thought, but it seems he is still incapacitated. I wish I could contact him to see how he’s going on. Pound to a penny, his Diabetes-2 is involved in some way. (I later found out it wasn’t… Big Gob!)

Did the Doctor inform the pharmacy about the doubling of the Ann Gyna tablets (Omeprazole)? Did the chemist forget about them? Personally, I blame the Parole Board!

After wee-weeing and two, I say two visits in the following fifteen minutes, I got the health Checks done. BP and all that rigmarole.
Oh, dearie, me, back up to Hypertension-2. A shame that. I suspect that the lack of Omeprazole for the Angina and the lack of sleep had some bearing?

Got the blog updated and posted off to WordPress. Then I Pinterested some pictures.

I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana. And took three pictures out of the kitchenette window, which had roughly the same view.
The top one was in Auto+ mode, the second in Auto, and the third one was taken in Night Scene mode.

None of them came out as I would have liked. And I’ve learnt nothing from this little experiment… Other than when I reach up to turn the window handle, the pain shot right around the back into the… I think the kidney or bowel area.
A quick swearing session and the need for yet another visit to the overused this morning.

The session was again in full control of Trotsky Terence. Got the ablutions done while in there. A stand-up job; too early to use the noisy shower.

Finally got a brew made and got an email that came in from Iceland.

Minutes later, I was back, seated on the Porcelain Throne. A heck of a messy job this one was. I was cleaning it when a carer came in. I asked about the Omeprazole 20mg. But she didn’t know and could not help me get in touch with Richard.

arrived and gave me the medications. We spoke, and she is going to ask about the prescription situation for me.

Then. the DVT Warfarin nurse arrived; it was Hristina.
She soon got the blood taken. The IRN result form has not arrived from last Monday yet – Postal Strike and work to rule in the UK, don’t you know. Railway workers, NHS Nurses and power workers are all to follow. Oh, dear!
That was followed by the Iceland delivery arriving.

I struggled to get the bags into the hallway.

The treat bottles were put in the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off.

A shame Richard has not got back to work, but better safe than sorry.
I still think his Diabetes-2 is part of his problem. All the best to him.
Thanks for caring for me, my mate! Keep safe!

I got the coffee treats and what should have been Richards into the fridge.

If the lad can’t get back to work, I’ll have to hand the burgers and meals to someone else.
Gawd! is persistent this morning! Oh, it’s nearly teatime!
Came back, and she’s got the prescriptions for me. ♥
UNFORTUNATELY: They’s only sent one box of Omeprazole – with a difference. They were 25ml and not 30 like the last ones, white, not yellow, and with a new name; Lansoprazole”

Came; I can’t remember why.

I had a phone call from Easy-Link to confirm they have booked a lift in the morning at 10:00hrs. For me to go to the Doctor’s. Grrreat!

I got a call from Easy-Link, to confirm the lift in the morning to the Doctors… well, nurses’ appointments at the Surgery.

Better get something to eat, then. Vegan sausages, tomatoes with basil, rolls… I’ll go and see what is available. I made a decent meal, but I took a photo of it, and it is not on the SD card. This is not surprising now, as I found I’d left it on the computer.

Came in. I was still groggy from sleep. But did notice the lad was still not looking or sounding very well. Croaky voice, coughing a lot, too.
He checked on the medical draw, and we spoke a lot... but most if what was said had gone into the ether.
I should see him in the morning.

Oh, I’m going to see the nurses Tuesday… pick-up is at 10:00hrs, I mustn’t forget.

TTFNski

Inchie Today: Friday 16th December 2022

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04:30hrs: I woke wanting a wee-wee, passed it, and had to go to the . A smidgen messy, but no pain and no hæmatorrhœa.
I cleaned up but had already made plans for the day while seated on the throne. I shall get the sorted out as soon as I’ve finished doing the Health Checks, and then I’ll get the medicationalisationings done. Owzat then? Me making plans, blimey!

Off to the computer. No tea, no biscuits, no depression, no, and I do believe I may have been humming the Shadows Stars fell on Stockton tune to myself!

Not the result I was hoping for; a rather high Hypertension – Two, close to the (Call 999) stage Three. I blame and all his extra long all day, and noisier-than-ever bursts of clangs, clanks, Tap-tapping, knocking and drilling yesterday for this! Thanks mate!

I did some Pinteresting when I’d done the Health Checks and updated the Thursday blog. I seemed to be doing well this morning the were not playing me up too much – but that was a silly thing for me to say; they can go offline in an instant, and the brain no longer understands the broken messages, and anything can happen then! Wish I’d keep me gob-shut!

The computer was put into sleep mode and off to get them done. I’d taken the camera in with me and took a snap of the legs after I’d stripped off; the one on the right is after the session was completed… And I’d heroically, bravely, boldly and stupidly used you-know-who to get the long diabetic socks on. Yes, I’d utilised the mocking, fearsome, finger bruising, cutting and ripping green goddess known as ! And came out of the battle with only a squashed ! And a rather large was gone into!

The shaving produced only two tiny nicks on the neck. Teggie cleaning did go badly, though. Another lump had detached itself from the left bicuspid and double molar; the blood flowed, and that took me some time to stop. Thus, started! This is because of the Warfarin INR level is high, at 4.4. (3.5 is the target) That’s why the DVT clinic has reduced the dosage again.

Germolened, Germoloided, and oiled the ear holes. And guess what?
, That ignorant slobbovitch from the flat up above kicked off with his banging and knocking again!
I’d had enough to contend with yesterday, over 12 hours of it, and just had to bounce back some similar noises to inform him of the danger he was in.
They were tap-tappings, and I hit the top of the high bookcase with Metal Mickeys’ plastic handle on the hard wooden shelves. Trying to imitate the same amount of bangs (18), I counted.
This did no good, and a few minutes later, they kicked off again. Louder this time, I could clearly hear them without my hearing aids in.
I returned a volley of bangs around the top of the bookcase cabinet, and I kept it up for a few moments. And waited, stick in hand, for the reply… There were many more taps and bangs, but they were all a lot quieter, so fair enough. They stopped after a few minutes. He’s probably going out to see his favourite youngsters with his pressies? I’m dreading the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable crud-nut coming back.

Got carried away there, sorry…

Was beginning to get a smidgen worse as I exited the wet room – Smelling all nice and fresh, the smell of the medications wafting up my nose. I went into the junk room to select the day clothes… and…
! As I was reaching at full tilt to get the jumper from the clothes racking, presented me with one heck of an . Short & sharp, but it had over, and I fell into the clothes and slid gently to the floor! Breaking a few clothes hangers in the process and landing on the right knee, which did not please .
The hobble on my hands and knees out into the hallway, into the front room, and the struggle to get myself upright using the weight of the recliner took a long time, but I did it. How things were going, a .
I was not hurting, apart from . But that was nothing to do with the tumble.
I soon recovered, and I made my way to the kitchenette to get the kettle on to make a brew of Glengettie.

The red line on the horizon caught my attention, and I went for the Lumix camera. It was misty, so not the best of conditions, but it still looked good to me.
Then I took a shot of the bottom field with the frost still not melted. There were many seagulls about circling and threatening, zooming low. Had they seen a rat, cat or lone dog that they often make a meal of? I missed them all in the photo but caught some a few minutes later.
Took a photo of the drug-dealers house street. You can see which it is by the lack of frost and snow on the roof; no doubt they are growing cannabis or whatever in the loft, hence it being the only house with the attic being heated?

Took another shot of the horizon.

Then one of the Winwood Heights car parking on Chestnut way. Oh... I caught some of the seagulls on their breakfast safari in this one. Hehehe!
I made up some waste bags. The nice gentleman in the flat above me offered some accompaniment for me.
This time the tap-tapping was almost musical? The uncommunicative: laconic, taciturn, aloof, Laodicean, reticent, stoical, unruffled, equanimous, unclubbable, unforthcoming, stand-offish, unapproachable, haughty chap, was producing some good stuff, I thought.
A piacere, which, considering he was only using what sounded like a sledgehammer and mallet (Maybe a nail hammer as well), was pretty impressive. I was just getting into it, and he stopped.

I must go on the web to try to find some cartoons to use over the next few days. I may have to stop suddenly. For I have the Amazon deliveries that are due today, and they are currently (0335hrs) being given an ETA of twixt 03:40 > 0640hrs. Which possibly means it will be here by 22:00hrs or tomorrow.

Weary, tired, computer off.

Woke me up. Issued Peptac, checked taps and stove. Had a mini-natter. Took bags And amazon boxes with her.

Woke up by the kind, caring, sympathetic noisy Git-in-the-flat-above, Herbert. Knock, knocking for a while.

Woke me up. Meds issued. Mini natter enjoyed.

21:45hrs: Woke up to some strange different noises from the Management protected and defended, unneighbourly, superior-natured Gentleman in the flat above. Not sure what caused them, a sort of chugging sound?

22:10hrs: Ah, that’s better, back to his regulation mode of tap-tapping, with the odd clunk thrown in for good measure.

I kept trying to fall asleep again but ended up turning on the TV. Ah, that did it! Zzz!

01:30hrs: With a jerk, jump and shock! Not the foggiest idea what had caused this rude awakening? but it buggered me up, and I spent the next four hours or so desperately trying to get back to sleep – No chance until about 05:00hrs. Off into bliss!

05:20hrs: I more or less erupted into wakefulness.
I was half over the edge of the cushion on the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, incommodious, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.
For this, I blame the nightmare I was having, the slippery materialed new dressing gown I had on… and I might as well blame as well. Oh, and myself, I suppose!.

Although, is yet another possible (definite) reason for my poorlier than it should be, health. Nicknamed Herbert’s real name is John, I think, the protected from criticism, imperviable to criticism, animadversion or condemnations. A superior acting gentleman, urchin. An untouchable, pompous, arrogant elitist!. He’s not a nice person to those he’s making life a misery for with his constant everyday noise-making. Made invulnerable and defended by those in control of the Independent Living Organisation. I pray I do not meet him face to face ever again… I’ve never ever lost control physically… yet! Doing so could well see me off – but he is seeing me off slowly with his grinding, tap-tapping, drillings and knockings every single day! Such a supercilious sod.

I think there’s just a minimal iota of an idea, that he may be getting to me?... Hehehe!

Inchie Today: Thursday 15th December 2022

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06:00hrs: I looked at the clock and realised I didn’t want a wee-wee – this is the first day’s awakening for months that I didn’t want a pee on stirring back into resat life! All very confusing! Nonplussing!

started to kick off straight away, might be the late medications yesterday? But she’s been much worse, only short stabbing pains at the moment. It does not last for long, with plenty of breaks in between.

I rose from the £300, bought nine years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly, sickeningly beige-coloured, many crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner, caught my balance, grabbed 4-pronged Metal Micky, and off to checks the taps and get the kettle on for a brew.

I tried to get some decent photographs of the pretty morning view. I don’t think I id too well, do you? Haha!

Housewife Mode-Engaged! I set to getting the waste badges sorted out. Cleaned the sink area… well, tidied it up a bit, then! Got some more paper towels out to use and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Took the mug to the computer and checked for any messages or comments that may have come in from my hundreds of blog fans throughout the world. I answered them both.

During this, I kept hearing the oddest noises and thought it might be someone knocking on the door. I should have known, of course – it was the Herbert in the flat above giving me a concert of tap-tapping, knock-knocking with the odd loud crunching sound thrown in for good measure. I have to put up with this noise every single day, and at the weekend, it gets even worse. Still, no hard feelings, after all, as the Nottingham City Homes manager said to me: “He’s a wonderful man and makes steam engines for the school…” Nuff said. That was seven years of noisy hell ago. I wish him no harm, do not place curses on him, refuse to give him a neck-chop when I get near enough to him, swear about him, or hate him… just the noise he makes so regularly. I hope whatever it is he’s making comes out well. And the children, he seems to like, enjoy them.

As I moved on to updating the Inchie Today for yesterday, I heard a noise that sounded to my ears like firecrackers; it kept on for a few minutes, and I just had to have a look around in case someone was at the door or something may have fallen over. I had a momentary vision of an alien sliming along into Do-No-Wrong, noisy, snotty Herbert’s flat and slowly eating him alive. This cheered me up a bit; no harm in having a dream? Naturally, the noise was coming from the flat above. He got but more violent with it this time. Thuds bangs, and somehow, with tap-tapping in the background this time. Damned clever chap! I gave a tap or two with Metal-Micky’s handle on the high bookcase in return. He just carried on.

announced the arrival of . He got the medications sorted alright, and we had a little chat. He checked the taps and cooker on his way out with the waste bags for me. Nice lad!

I made up a bottle of spring water and added some lime juice, went to put it in the cubby-hole on the Hopewell’s 1963-built, falling to pieces, E-Plan Sideboard. Where I espied the Carers & Nurses Christmas bottle for them to choose. I must remember to ask a carer if there are any more names to go down.

The unfriendly, bumptious, toffee-nosed, self-important, snotty-nosed, condescending, sanctimonious animal in the flat above has never been as persistently noisy as he is today. If I meet up with him, he could just be ready for a fall! I am not a violent person, but many years of putting up with this protected by the Council Management turd; is getting to me now!
There will be a clash coming unless he cuts down on the banging about soon! The pococurante, dismissive, disrespectful, git… will no doubt lose out in any conflict, despite his grandeur and overconfidence, and I will end up in prison… the Prison Hospital, I hope. Then I might get the Dementia, DVT vein, and Cataracts seen too? And a new PC to work on? Be fed meals?
Sounds good to me. Sorry Herbert, this is your last warning! (It’s not really; he’s in no danger from me).

Arrived to do a quick check-up and Client Review. And during the questioning and answering session, witnessed the noise that I was suffering from the flat above! As for myself, I can never tell if it’s him or someone banging on the door! I explained this to Kara. This is why I do not wear the hearing-aids when in the flat. Unfortunately, I can’t hear the fire alarm either, then.
But it doesn’t matter as long as Herbert can get away with such antisocial behaviour and him being immune from doing any wrong… the nasty, noisy bully.
Now then, can I remember the recipe from Grandma Griselda? Toad’s legs curdled with the blood of a Vampire, 2oz of Basil, 1 litre of Double strength bleach, and a tablespoon of TCP. Oh, what were the other ingredients? Eye of a newt and toe of a frog, the Wool of a bat and the tongue of a dog…
No, hang on… Am I getting mixed up with Macbeth? Hehehe!

At last, a decent mug of Thompson’s Punjana and three biscuits to dunk in it. By gum, this is a good life!
Hahaha!

Arrived, and he got me sorted out with the medications. I dropped one… Fool? Me? Yes! We couldn’t find it, but worked out it was a Codeine 30g, and although we were low on many tablets, plenty of them remained, so he gave me another one.

That git upstairs is driving me mad with the tapping and knocking.
It’s not doing my health or temper any good! It won’t do him a lot of good when I meet him again! The ignorant &^%stard!

I foolishly went on Amazon to see if they had any small Air-Fryers on offer – and ended up ordering one. There’s no stopping my sinking bank balance or stupidity!
.
I went to get the kettle on again and took these photographs of the front car park. The left one to the right, the right one to the left… I think. Hehe!

Then Spend-the-lot Inchie actually went back onto Amazon and ordered a new keyboard. I’ve got to stop doing this!
I am so angry with myself – I could almost cry!
What the hell is the matter with me?
No need to answer that, folks; I’ve a sneaky feeling that I know, but not keen on admitting it, if you know what I mean… which is probably more than I know!

Nearly 18:00hrs and the Perfect-One, protected and adored by the management of Nottingham City Homes, is off again with his banging away! With any luck, he’ll have a heart attack before I see him again and save me from getting arrested for GBH. It’s a living hell! But I don’t truly mind a single bit. It’s all said in fun…

Oh! I’ve done the . I’d better get them done then…

Dang and bother and . I’m back in the Hypertension Red-1 zone again. Think I got spoilt with two days in the HIGH-NORMAL Pink. Hehe! Still, it’s been worse.

I was making slow headway with this blog, but better than none. Meant another long day for this old man. Hey-Ho!

Not has anything to eat yer, apart from three biscuits. I went into the kitchen to get the cooker oven heating up. And I was so glad I did; for the red moon was going down on the horizon; quickly too.

The results were very pleasing for once.
Of course, I forgot all about putting the oven on.

Great balls of fire! He’s off again. A mechanical concert of bangs, tap-tapping and the odd clunk in between!

I went back to the computer and realised I was missing my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on TV channel 10. Did some more updating of this blog while half-listening to Heartbeat… I don’t put it on loud cause being a much better and less snotty A-hole than, let’s say, Fart-Breath, living above, and I don’t like to make noise and disturb my neighbours. Grumph!

An hour or so after taking the photos of the sunsetting, I then noted that I had not put the oven on after all. So I did.

It wasn’t really a depression I’d sunk into; more a moment of self-disgust and or loathing… no, it was depression. Tsk!

Got the nosh sorted out, well-gone 20:00hrs now… Oh, no, gone 21:00hrs! At last, the noise from above had ceased – but I’m anticipating it starting again, like last night at gone 22:00hrs.

NOSH TIME COMETH:
A decent-looking nosh, but unfortunately, the photo and all taken since were recorded on the Lumix without my having a memory card in it. I’d left it on the computer yet again.
Flavour Rating: 8/10.

Woke me; I noted I’d fallen asleep watching Heartbeat; I’m missing more than I had watched lately. Thanks to turd-face up above, wearing me down with all his bashing and banging about, I’m so tired. Jo-Anne got the medications sorted as I was about to eat the meal. Left a pot of Lumix for me to take after the meal. We had a natter and insisted she selected her choice of thank you drink. Went with her to lock the door, and she took the waste bag with her to the chute on her way out.

Saturday 3rd December 2022

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NOTTINGHAMSHIRE NEWS SNIPPET

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04:55hrs: I woke up for what must have been the 20th time overnight and decided to give up trying to sleep and get up.
The instant I rose onto my feet, a giddy spell developed, and at the same time, I realised I was not in full control of things in my head. A confusing babble of thoughts raced to and fro. I think I did the right thing; I sat down and let Dementia Doreen have her run. As it happened, she or whatever the cause, was bringing forth ideas, regrets, guilt, mistakes etc., so fast, I was barely bothered by it.
But it left me struggling to concentrate for a few hours.
Some things seemed foreign to me, not everything to mind. I can recall, over the next hour, a few incidents, which I’ll share with you, and the Dementia nurse when I see her again. If I remember! I had three trips to the Porcelain throne in about 15 minutes. On the first, I actually had to think where the flush was and was physically reaching up for a second to pull the nonexistent chain?
On the last call, when I decided to put some olive oil in the ears, I could not pick up the bottle. No reason at all for this, as far as I could tell. I just could not grab the bottle? Seconds later, I tried again, and no problem, all back to usual?
I really want to tell the nurse and Carer Richard about this; it was so weird. I’ll tell Richard he can pass it on if he sees the nurse again.
I felt disorientated for a time.

As I was making up the waste bags, I stopped to take some photographs from the kitchen window. I suppose because the scene looked so beautiful. Yet no different than usual, well, it was to me.

Then I forgot all about the waste bin bagging and found myself putting the laundry to go into the big bag.

I went to get the kettle on and realised I’d left the flipping tap running again! My self-hating and inner lambasting erupted.
Worran, odd morning.
♫Things Ain’t Wot They Used To Be♫.

Made a brew and checked that the Georges-Asda dressing gowns were still coming. George’s says delivery today, but the transport company (Hermes, I think) only say estimated to come today? Not another Amazon-like farce, Please!

Arrived. Helped me with the computer order and Amazon cock-up.
Didn’t take the waste bags with him. Got him all day today, clever lad.

Updated the Friday WordPress blog. Went on WP comments. Then Pinterested some photos.

Arrived, but I forgot to ask him to take the waste bag again. He departed, leaving it on the box in the hallway near the door.

I was so tired. But had to try to stay awake in case Hermes delivered the dressing gowns. (Ha!) What a dreamer this idiotic, retarded, in-pain, beyond-help, uneducated, bald, large right testicled, mentally and physically crumbling old-timer is!

Euthanasia comes to mind.

As I was taking these pictures of the brightest part of the day, and I thought pretty too…
A vicious tummy ache started. Bladder side. And I am now worried, as I was of writing this at 19:35 hours, it is still giving me some stick. Getting no easier, despite taking extra Peptac. This is not good. I fear the wrist alarm may have to be activated if it gets worse.

NOTTINGHAMSHIRE NEWS SNIPPETS

A MURDER INVESTIGATION
AFTER A MAN WAS FOUND DEAD WITH STAB WOUNDS

Somehow headlines like these in Nottinghamshire shock us less and less.
As usual for the Nott’s Police, out goes an appeal for anyone who caught the scene on their car cams. Anyone passing by noticed anything unusual.
CCTV, dash-cam footage.

It appears the Police have arrested a woman and are questioning her.
That’s good.

I wonder if it was what they call a domestic?
Will a lawyer be building a defence at this moment?
Wife beating? Mental Stress, did the man drink at all or take drugs?
Whichever, the Parole Board will free them early.

Arrived and did the medications. didn’t stay to make sure I took the Peptac. Didn’t do any tap checks or take the waste bag with him. I know I’m right about this; because the bag was still there in the hallway, and… when I went to wash the Peptac pot…
I FOUND THE HOT WATER TAP I’d left RUNNING. Hot water, stone cold. Mess on the floor and counter.
Not my day, is it?

20:25hrs: Got a text message coming in on my mobile. Which depressed me so much.
Just like the messages from Amazon started. False promises? They went on for five weeks after the assured delivery date.
I thought with George-Asda offering a one-day delivery for an extra £4.95 or whatever it was, would assure me of getting a shower and shave and having something clean to wear, like a dressing gown. So I paid up, full of confidence in the superior service of Georges…
After waiting in all day with no TV on so I could hear the intercom buzzing when the delivery arrived. (Yes, I still thought it would arrive. What a burke!
I spent hours fighting off and falling asleep. Then the stomach ache started, and Carer Ty failed to do the tap-running checks. I found after he’d gone, I’d left the hot tap running again, a mess to clean up – Ah, all that bending might have started the stomach off? I wonder if the dressing gowns will come with the Asda food order in the morning?

Arrived for the last short safety checks and gave me a Paracetamol to counter the tummy pains. Which I do believe are getting less severe now? A little natter and treats selected, at my insistence. ♥

NOTTINGHAMSHIRE NEWS SNIPPETS

Another punk who can’t hold his beer.
Chittock; is a suitable name for a Shithead wino.

What a cowardly bully he obviously is.
Blaming things on his drinking, thus getting the sympathy of the port drinking judges, judging by the pathetic sentence they gave this animal?

Now we await the Parole Boards scumbag’s decision to free Chittock early on licence. Will he do a year, even?

Well, I can’t get a wash and shave, no hot water.
But I can get down in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe-producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, blown-up testicle-squashing incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, and pray for sleep.
So, I did!

Gave up and made a meal. A can of Chilli-con-carne, with some roast vegetable sauce, added. I heated two cobs in the oven and had a pot of the soya lemon yoghourt.

Very nice, too. Taste: 7.4/10.

I was just nodding off and chimed out, and the late safety-check Carer called. I’d forgotten about that!
It was . Nice to see her. Told her about the stomach cramps, and she gave me a Paracetamol with the Peptac. Selected a treat, and I went with her to lock the front door as she left.

Sleep came quickly enough, but yet again, the jumping awake throughout the night pestered me.

Still not doing very well, am I? Hehehe!