INCHIE TODAY: Sunday, 5th March 2023 – Latest News Snippets

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A bad day for the “Out-Of-It” spells.
“Mind Blanks” & “Self-Loathing. I made up ten templates in advance today… A bad mistake. Cost me most of the day. But I kept mind-wandering off to do other things, without a care in the world for while I was doing them… Afterwards, catching up and getting to where I was before my meanderings just cost me more time. As if things don’t take long enough to get done nowadays? I’d have missed the first proper sunset we’ve had for days if it wasn’t for Carer Carolynne arriving. She helped me take some photos. As usual, I got carried away and took far too many for far too long. By the time I’d returned to the computer, I’d acquired an empty mind of magnificent incapability. What was I doing? Ah, well, I’ll do my best. I’m only just starting this blog, and it is already 22:30hrs!

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Bloody heck! Well, in the pouch!.

Guess who burnt his already burned knuckle?

Carer Sam and Carollyne had been and gone.
I got on with the template-making again.
It only took me about nine hours to get them done.

I got some soup in the saucepan and added some
imitation bacon bits, liquid smoke, salt and vinegar to the
vegetables, and added a can of peas. Lovingly stirred it
all together, but I got summoned again to the beloved
. Where I spent the next hour or so in
a battle to force an evacuation. Like cement! The soup got burnt!

I had a pot of Chinese rice.
It was very nice.

The next few hours are nothing more than scraps of memory.
I don’t recall anyone calling on me, but think they did.
I found the hot tap running and now have no water to wash and shave with. No way am I going to try using saucepans and kettles in the state I’m in… at least, I think I was. I must see the nurse about these bouts of, as I call them, being “Out-of-it!” Anything could happen. It might have?

Carer Carolynne arrived for her last call. This is when I realised we had got a sunset going on in the night sky. I got the Fuji, and the Carer took some photos on her mobile phone of the magnificent view on offer. After she sorted the medications and took the bags out for me, I stayed taking photos for about an hour as the reluctant-to-leave-us sun fought to stay in view. Marvellous! IK think I’ve got them in order as taken.

First batch.

Second batch…

Third effort – Getting good now!

Apparently, calming down?


Fare thee well!

Hello! Is she trying to make a comeback?

Took some close-ups here...

I went to empty out the day pouch again, disinfected and cleaned the bucket, and back into the kitchen for a brew…
Blimey, she was still giving it a go!

I really enjoyed taking them shots!

Carer Richard arrived – he was not happy.
We were out of night catheter bags.
So that’s why the others didn’t attach them
to the day bag for the last three nights.
No one has done anything about it.
The lad was really annoyed and was fed-up.
Which upset me in a way; I hate to see.
Richard upset. Poor lad. He didn’t stay long,
he was not in the mood for a natter.

And he didn’t call on Monday morning either.
Hope he’s alright.

A decent nosh made. Nowt to get excited about.
Guess what it was? Hehe! Flavour Rating 6.8/10.

But the vegan ice cream for afters was brilliant!


INCHIE TODAY: Wednesday 22nd February 2023

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Horrific Day
I would have topped myself…
But I didn’t have time. Hehe!

I really cannot remember much about yesterday.
But I’ll try to decipher the notes and use the pictures in hopes of working out the chronological bits I can be prompted on.

Throne, unblocked WC. Something about the cancelled Asda order, no idea what, the writing and eyes are so bad.
Carer Richard called. Did the first BP reading.

And urine colouring. Not good at all

Getting the paperwork together for Friday’s brain scan…found a letter, but it gave the date as Thursday, not Friday? The Warfarin nurse arrived – and did not have time to help me sort out the problem.
The pain, no, agony from Little Inchie was getting worse and worse, as time moved on.
Carer Carolynne arrived, and could see the agony I was going through, and rang the District Nurse for me, they told her someone would call to tend to me. Bless her!! I am confused so am going to have to guess at the timing and names over the next four hours.
The nurse said there was a blockage in the bladder. Squirted something down the tube, and reconnected the pouch. When I mentioned the appointment for the scan having two dates on them, and needing to know which is the one to go to, she kindly rang all the five or six numbers on the letterheads from the QMC, and could not get through to any of them. I’m sure she then rang the QMC switchboard, and they could not get through to them either. The operator said she’d ring me back later. They did; the Carer told me it was for Friday. Of course finding the letter with the Thursday one on, I’d rung Easy-Link to see if they could cancel the Friday one, and move it to Thursday. No! But they will try Thursday to let me know if they have any cancellations.
My head was spinning now.
Got the yesterday’s blog, and didn’t get around to starting this one until about 21:30hrs! The eyes, as usual, were failing and blurred now, by balance was all over the place. And the new pouch was got being pee’d into. What tiny bit was there was bloodied!
Don’t know when or why I took this one above.

Found this one, Richard.

This shows how well-coloured and heavy-flowing the wee had been the first thing.

Then this one is what it is like now…

Another earlier shot.

The yopo two notepads are mine, so you can see why I am making a mess of this blog? The bottom one was what Carer Carolynne wrote to remind me after. Carer Jozeph. Calls from unknown people as well, a con here, methinks was being tried.
Took what I’d hoped would be sunset photos, but the clouds were not playing.

A little later… I did the last wee check…

Then the nearest thing to a sunset…

Carer Richard told him about the horrid day of disasters and asked him not to put the night pouch on tonight.
I been up all night, no sleep.
Fretting, worrying and fed up.

Now suddenly, the wee-wee is flowing again, and the pain has begun to ease after about eight hours of just the odd bloodied trickle.
Oh, dear, it’s a bit bloodied again now.

06:00hrs, I’m going to make a meal.
Well, a pot noodle!

Worked all through the night on this blog.
Fell asleep around 04:00hrs.

INCHIE TODAY: Saturday 18th February 2023

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Today, I received two letters. Neither of which exactly perked me up, cheered me up or made me sing or yodel with pure joy.
But first, I’m afraid this is another rushed blog. Due to the hours spent sorting out the mail in hate form of four A4 pages of the very small print of details required by the hospital for the upcoming operation on the Prostate that needed to be filled in. But, I made a right mess of it.
THe Carer who came pointed out that I could do it on the Internet.
So, I did, and that took me over an hour and a half to get right! Had to ring Sister Jane to confirm her address and telephone number. But got it done and tried to send it, but it wouldn’t have it.
So I double-checked that I’d filled everything in properly.
Which, of course, I hadn’t! There was a disclaimer box that had to be clicked on. So, I clicked on it. Another messy day!
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I got out of the recliner, caught my balance, and went off to the porcelain Throne. Messy! Very Messy!
Checked the batteries and made sure the Fuji was working.

Took a snap from the window.

Stripped t get ready to go to get the ablutions done.
The toes had lost their brown colouring but were more twisted and swollen.

07:40hrs: I started the Ablutionings.
My teeth were cleaned, my nose cleared, and I shaved while I was standing in a bowl of soapy water and Dettol. 
Eye drops in, medicated certain delicate areas. I actually felt worn out; the whole session took ages. I took a photo of the wrist alert bands

Right wrist...
Left wrist… Which meant after looking at the clock, that I’d spent
erm… 08:55 now, started at 07:40hrs – that was good for me!
Smug-Mode Engaged!

The two errant toes were stinging a bit.

Blimey sunshine out!

Carer Adele arrived a little late, not that it mattered in the slightest to me.
She’s collected the two letters from the door box on coming in.
One was a bill from Easy-Link.

The other (above). was the dreaded questionnaire from the Woodthorpe Hospital. I have to fill it in and register before they can see me.
It cost me over four hours to get it all done!

Carers came and went, but I worked like a good un trying to get this blog done… I had to keep stopping for the carers visits, phone calls, answer emails that came in, emptying the daub pouch of the catheter, and forever adjusting the tubing that was giving me some right bother; the bleeding had not stopped since the first accidental pull on the tube. Not bleeding badly, more like a little leak. But it keeps drying, and when I move, the dried blood cracks and starts flowing again; Humph!

Nothing to eat yet. Not that I want anything. I did nibble and dunk a few biscuits each time I made a brew… although five of the mugs of tea went cold cause I was concentrating on doing the graphics.

Tea time, and I went to make another brew, intent on making sure I drank this one. I didn’t. Cause I espied a slimmer of light on the horison – Aha… Sunset was coming, methinks!.

I took a closer shot.

Over the next half-hour, I took several photos of the wonderful sky until the short sunsetting had gone.

Ta-Ta Sunshine!

Get something to eat now… I hope!

A much-doctored bowl of veg soup.
I was halfway through it when the new Carer Zika arrived.
He was late arriving, and muggings here forgot he’d not been.
I am a plonker! He’s a nice lad.
With chatting with him as he got the medications sorted, I also forgot all about the night pouch that needed fitting to the on the .

He took the waste bags and checked the taps for me as he departed.

Then I got the dish, and cutlery washed and settled down in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.

Another much-interrupted sleep. For I had to keep checking and emptying the smaller day bag, if needed, overnight. Lost count of the times I had to get up and free the urine into the bucket. Tsk! I think seeing a new face and nattering a little helped me forget about the night pouch.

I also got a visit from Dizzy Dennis every time I bent down to undo the release valve. A little disconcerting they were.


INCHIE TODAY: Sunday 12th February 2023

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This very Sunday, my worst ever Weariness-Willy attack… much worse than yesterday, had me sleeping on and off, not getting much done at all, for an estimated total comprising of; Finally got the meal last night… no, this morning, finished, and flopped down on the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner, round 04:20hrs.
I was up again at 04:20hrs, adjusting the long tube on the beloved , to get enough freedom from the bleeding and pain to get myself to the wet room to tackle the job properly.
You will appreciate that this farce was a severe challenge to my temper-keeping and pain-bearing levels. With Metal Mickey, the walking stick in one hand, and the and elongated tube was a dicey business. But cleaning up the blood, washing the tender areas, and trying to put the Savlon Cream on little Inchie without catching the inserted tube – (Which I did a few times – I naturally merely laughed off the agony & paid off!) Then the Germoloids Ointment was applied to the rear-end quarters. After washing and drying the bum and legs as best, I could, with just one hand available to use… And I was feeling so ruddy tired and irritable! And had started off!

Arrived as I was masking a brew of tea. My only aim was to get my head down at long last. Jozeph removed the night pouch, gave me the medications, and we had a minute or two chatting. He checked the taps and stove and took the waste bag with him.

I took a photo of the morning view…

While I made a fresh mug of tea.

Then about 07:00hrs, it was back into the £300 second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner.

Could I get the straps in a comfortable position on the right leg? No!

A bit tight…
That’s better methought…
Ah, you fool Inchie!
The pouch had filled.
So, up again and to the bucket to empty it...

The urine looked nice and light yellow.

Resettled onto the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner.

The body let me slip into the oblivion of deep sleep…
But the dreaming started again.
Then, waking up every five or ten minutes with a jump or jerk!At around 11:15hrs, arrived.

Back off to sleep without any problems; staying asleep was the problem!

I gave up trying around 15:00hrs and got on with starting yesterday’s blog worked on. It took me until Gawd knows when to get done. Hours!

Did the ablutions. Made a brew.

And had my dinner. A pot of porridge… Why only a pot of porridge?
Cause I: was still so tired, and after eating the feast, I went to make sure that the slow cooker had been turned off.

Arrived, woke me up and got the medications sorted.

I was unbelievably tired again… Zzzz!

I had to get up yet again; to empty the pouch.

The sleep would not return this time. I think I was just too overtired… if that makes any sense? So, back onto the computer. But Concentration Konrad had done a runner, and of all things, the danged returned to haunt and hurt me… as well as make any more sleep impossible.

Carer Richard Came in. We had a minute or two natters after he did the medications; he was in a rush, methinks. Nice to see him again. I asked how he was. Cause he was quieter than usual. His Diabetic insulin level was all over the place. I hope it levels for him soon.

After Richard had gone, it was back to errors, mistakes, and some short but persistent Dizzy Dennis visits for an hour or two. Later, early hours of the morning, I did try to take some photos from the computer chair.
I could see my reflection coming back off of the outer glass, so tried to do a wave to you in the frame and capture it…
The first one wasn’t good…
So I tried again with the flash on…

Another failure!
I tried a third time…
Got a third failure.
But at least you make out a terrible
outline of my hand wave and head…
You can borrow my spyglass if you like?


The blood is back in the bladder again!


Still, it’s not as deep a red as it was last week.

Well, hardly worth me trying to get any sleep now. Nearly 05:00hrs. The morning Carer is due twixt 0600-0745hrs.
I’ll turn off the computer, and unlock the door, then have a pot of noodles.
And try to get some sleep.

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!!!

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, Carer Richard 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.


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.
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…

Late Morning Update

Carer Richard 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.)

Carer Richard 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!

Inchcock: Monday 5th December 2022

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06:10hrs: I woke up in the usual fashion with a jerk after having already woken up several times in a similar fashion. Had a wee-wee, quick wash, utilised the , the first time, which was followed by four more by midday! Changed into socks, PP’s, trews and dressing gown.
The second visit to the, . Made a brew of Glengettie.
Got some spuds cooking in the slow cooker.

Got the fridge dates checked. There were some I could not see or decipher, thanks to , and the foggy, not to mention .
Took a snap of a large number of vehicles this morning down on Chestnut Way in front of the Woodthorpe Court block of flats.

Made up some waste bags; I had to dish even more of the Asda potatoes that had gone green overnight.
Got the computer on and had a go at the free find three logos competition.
Not doing any worse this year; my record stays a two (February).
All other times it was one, like today.
Got on CorelDraw and Word to make this template.
Back for the 3rd visit.
Then an amazing thing happened. What a Shock!
Mr Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down. Humph!
How do they get away with it, being such rubbish and overcharging idiots like me for a pathetic service?
And Fries still gets his phenomenal salary and guaranteed bonus?
Not that I’m jealous of the Smoke & Mirrors; financially manipulative man, of course.

Arrived, and it was nice to see him. He was yawning at the end of his shift. Got the medications sorted, and we had a mini-natter. He checked the taps, stove and lights left on for me. Richard found some medications out of date, which we wrapped and threw away. 

number four visit was activated. this time, only just got there in time. This is a problem because I need to go out to get some money. At this rate, I dare not go out, but will still need the cash to keep paying bills. A dilemma here!

Made a brew of Glengettie tea and eventually got back on the computer. Updated the Sunday blog and sent it off to WordPress.

and Ty arrived for the second check visit. Ty helped me with the Amazon confusion I was in. I took another Paracetamol cause the bladder was still playing up pain-wise.

Rang out, and the DVT Warfarin nurse came in and did the INR blood test for me.
A different nurse this time seemed in a rush, but pleasant enough.

Visit number five was attended to. With the evacuations in control of Trotsky Terence and a few close calls, I may have to leave getting out to get some cash for fear of getting caught out? Leaving me in a quandary: if things are the same tomorrow?

acci-whoop I got a text message from Asda telling me of the shortages and substitutes on today’s order. Oh, dearie me… Another cock-up on my behalf! I thought I’d cancelled this order when I made the one for Sunday. Apparently not! What a clot! In fact, this got me self-hating and cursing at myself! 

As I made a start on this template, I changed my mind. And decided to get the done instead. Fancy me equivocating? Ahem! Off to the wet room with the clothing needed for after. Hope the shower still works and there is enough hot water to get a shave safely.

Commenced: The visit… erm, six is it? Was needed. I’m becoming something of an expert on the Throne! Hehe! Good job I didn’t go out to get some cash, after all.
My fears of the shaving cuts were right. At least eight cuts were gleaned; I thought  I was going to break the record… but it was close. Another couple and I would have.
The showering was a little farcical all around. Hit my head on the power box – Twice! Dropped the picker-upperer when trying to retrieve the loofah and then head-butted the tiles when I lost my balance bending down to get it! All this pales into insignificance compared to the pain that came from , and him getting crushed in the process! Crying was an option I had considered at the time…
But getting out of the shower and stubbing my against seemed to be more important at that specific time. The language that I spouted was crude, common, foul and naughty! So much so that I surprised myself, and a sense of guilt overcame me. I gave myself a lecture for being so generic in my vocabulary.
Then, I dropped the bleach bottle as I was cleaning the bowl… no need to say what started again, is there? !!!

When getting dressed and pulling up the trousers with the picker-upperer, I dropped it and unthinkingly bent down to try and catch it – The only thing I achieved was .

How I didn’t cry, explode or commit suicide, I don’t know for sure.

I was giving the much splashed with wee-wee WC a clean and disinfecting with Dettol, and arrived. I think if I could have got the tie on the trouser waist undone in time, all this would not have been necessary?
Jo-Anne got the medicines sorted out and issued. We had a little natter, and off she had to go. I think she checked the taps during the visit, as she helped me sort out wet room things. Bless her!

As Jo-Anne was leaving, three letters arrived, and she handed them to me.
The first was from the NHS Hazelwood, The Coppice Hospital. I assume this is for the first brain Scan to be done. I hope they find one; cause Dementia Doreen certainly has done! Haha!
The second was the INR Results; at first, I thought there was no way they could have gotten this to me on the same day? It turned out to be the one done on 28th November! No wonder I couldn’t find it when the nurse asked me for it earlier.
The last letter was the bill for the Carers services. It says the cost to pay will be £354.24…

I’m bloody fed up with myself at the current moment. I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running… again. AGAIN!
Everyday life is such a battle nowadays.
Peripheral Neuropathy, Diabetes, Neurotransmitters dying. The eye problems’, Saccades-Sandra, Glaucoma Gladys, Cataracts Katie. And mayhap the worst conundrum of them all, Doreen’s Dementia. With Duodenal Donald, Ann Gyna, Reflux Roger, and now the temporary members of my Ailments Club as well.

Bladder Belinda, Trotsky Terence, Colin Cramps, Toe-Stubbing Thomas. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Devlin’s Deafness, and occasionally the Mind-Blanks… All are liable to attack at any time… ad do too!
Take the PN-inspired, I wish someone would take them. They can last from a few seconds to at night when lying down, half an hour or so. Most embarrassing when I am, say, in a bus queue in Bulwell, everyone else in the shelter scattered when the leg dance kicked off, and a minute later, a policeman appeared looking askance at me, asking if I’d be drinking or taking drugs! I’m talking myself into a depression here! I’d better leave this subject now.

The unexpected Asda delivery arrived after had not long gone.

The deliveryman took the things through to the kitchen for me and put them in the boxes as well.

I happened to see the four substituted for Cottage Pies, Lasagnas and asked him to take them back, which he did gladly enough; bless him.

The potatoes that arrived yesterday, had all gone green now and had to be thrown away.
Today’s lot looked a lot fresher, though.

They substituted semi-skimmed weak milk for the full cream again. The coffee for the nurses and carers that were not available yesterday but did arrive today.

On yesterday’s order, I’d asked for three different types of bread and got none.

I did better today; I asked for the same three but got one. The Sourdough rolls.

I had a heck of a job-making room in the fridge to get the food in it.

Unfortunately, there were so many items that either did not have a sell-by date on them (that I could find), or the printing was just not big enough for me to recognise.

One good thing, though, is I might be near-bankrupt with all this massive Dementia Doreen-inspired food buying, but I shouldn’t starve for a while anyway. Hehehe!

The two more packs of the Asda brand Soya Lemon Yoghourts are now ensconced with yesterday’s two packs, and I now have sixteen mini tubs of the stuff. I must ask Richard or one of the other carers to check on the use-by or best-before dates on them for me.

I’ve got a pack of the new BBQ beans in the saucepan, with some 7-Vegetable sauce added, some soya bacon bits, and finally, a good splodge of BBQ sauce will be added when I get around to eating it for supper.