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I’d be lost without the Carers. Some have shown me so much help and understanding. I feel they are like friends more than just Carers doing a job. I did actually ask two of them to adopt me as a Grandfather. Hehehe!
The job is not an easy one. They are a cut above the ones at the home I went in after the stroke.
Bless them all!
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– – – – – – – – – – – Hehehe!– – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – -THE LONG DAY – – – – – – – – – – – –

I almost burst awake after four hours of blessed sleep. With a jump, juddering, with the left eye still twitching? Acclimatised myself to the current renewal of consciousness, and checked on the wall clock… but it wasn’t there? I checked again, in case it was one of the female ailments that caused the clock to disappear from view. This needed an investigation… so adopting my Sherlockian Status, I first got the Night pouch detached. had done a good job putting it on. It took me a little pains and about 15 minutes to get it off, carefully without breaking anything. Then the again, I got hold of my , hobbling over to the wall without a clock on it. The investigationalising began! Just as Sherlock would have done (I’m sure), I detected that some of the paperwork nearby was now on top of some bags on the floor… but where was the flipping clock? Being an experienced loser of property, ideas, thoughts and good luck, I decided to get the torch and see if the wall clock had rolled underneath the 1962-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off. No luck: if it had been under there, I’d have seen it, it’s white and big.
Check around the room, but with a feeling that had it fallen off in that corner, it would have stayed there atop the bags of rubbish and forgotten about brick-a-brac?
I was confused now!
But, jobs to be done. So I made up the waste bags into one. And checked out the tootsies in the light from the kitchen window.
The ankle was the thing that drew my attention. What the heck was the white mark? I couldn’t rest then, I had to try to clean it off, gave it a wipe with a cloth, it didn’t move! At that time, the summoning to the came, so I grabbed , & off I trotted, wobblingly to the wet room.
More curiousness hit me. Why had I left the things on top of the non-working W.C. lid?
I’d already got the clock to worry over, so I put this out of my mind. I’m most adept at that, you know? Putting things out of my mind. The problem is retaining things I’m my mind! Hehehe!
Then, for the first time in months, I had a similar type of evacuation, not the opposite as it has been. was again in full command – the messy little bugger!
Still, it was wash & shave time, so after cleaning up the mess made by Trotsky’s spatterings, I was going to clean my teggies as per usual first job. But no! The toothbrush had vanished as well as the clock? Much more time was lost fruitlessly searching for it.
Had the shave next. I thought it had all gone extremely well until I moved back from the mirror, and the blood ran from my chin onto my belly. I hadn’t felt any cuts occurring while shaving?
I went to get the Brut aftershave, an excellent if initially painful blood-stopper…  and I got a prize-class toe stubbing.
I considered the possibility of hibernating!
Swore a little, stopped the bleeding, and got on with the body wash. Always a risk when ‘doing’ scrubbing up near and around . However, today, no bother. I wondered if my luck was changing… I think the daftest things! I moved on to the tender-areas medicalisationings.
Very tender, the rear end and the middle buttocks this time. I must get some more Germolene and Germoloid ointments & cream.
I decided to get into the risky business of refilling the water tank, then remembered Jenny saying about using the shower. Haha! A pain-free refilling! But no! The light came on at the power point, but nothing happened? I think there was a noise of some sort, but it might have been from elsewhere and couldn’t identify it anyway. I’ll try again next visit to the Throne.
Four trips were enough this time to fill the tank. I heroically filled the first two buckets up to the top of the containers and gently carried each one back to the non-working W.C. water tank. that sweet was not too bad about it this trip!
For some banal reason that’s beyond me, I put the things back onto the non-working W.C. lid? The pleasure of putting on just one thin dressing gown was very pleasing.

But the PPs getting on was not one of the easiest I’d had to do.
I got into the usual position in the corner so as to avoid tumbling over in the case of lost balance… Wedged my bottie in the wall, and got the easier-to-use right leg; the more troublesome one, without any hassle! Then, of course, to get the better leg means balancing on the dodgy right leg to do so! Using the picker-upper, as advised by the District Nurse, nine times out of ten, tears the paper fabric of the pants. Although is good for getting trousers up… balance permitting.
Anyroad up, I almost went over but managed to lunge for the grab bar in time. Still got a new bruise on the right leg, but still. Aftershaed and deodorant splashed them all over, and off to the kitchenette. Taking these two photos as I got in, and put the kettle on.
The tea was not made for various reasons. But I needed to drink more water anyway to get the wee-wee flowing again. It was reluctant all day yesterday. And the Finasteride Prostate reducing course of tablets only has three days left. So, it looks like a permanent catheter for Inchie!
arrived as I was setting up the computer.
started kicking off as he arrived, and have been with me ever since, still at it! Grrr!
Set about giving me the medications and he told me about the Finasteride Prostate tablets about to run out. I meant to ask him to Phorpain Gel the back, but I forgot! Humph! He checked the medication drawer and wrote down the details.

He confirmed the urine as a 6 rating. I thanked him and bade him farewell, wishing him a good sleep. Took the photo above, and, again, put the kettle on. Not managed to make a brew yet, though!

I took this picture of the feet, but as I was doing so, granted me one of his, sometimes nervous-making routines, unexpectedly and without any warning. That was a rarity. I can usually feel the and get a warning… but not this time. I clouted the wayward leg on the corner of the floor cabinet, right on the bruise I got getting the PPs on!

Some days… you wonder why!

At long last, I started the blog. And…

Why does Liberty-Global, a smoke & mirrors man, oligarch, $26 million a year getting Mr Fries, show no interest in the company he bought out, complete failure? Obviously, there will be some money laundering, tax evasion, underhandedness,  profit-making, or some such scheme or the like involved in his ulterior motive!
Pure jealousy and hatred on my behalf!

arrived in a chirpy mood. Very kind to me. She gelled my lower back, rubbing it in well. Nice! Read the questionnaire for me. I was struggling to hear what she said, mind you. But I think it worked out alright. She could not call the Easy-Link for me as it’s a Bank Holiday – No one told me until now! Thanked her and went to make a mug of tea at last.

Hello, a mistake here, surely? The Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet is back online. Well, I never!  Mr Fries is likely visiting his oligarch friends in Moscow or Mafia Italy, as it’s a Bank Holiday – although, do they have them in America?

FOUND THE CLOCK!
It beat me, but it was in the first corner I checked; underneath some carrier bags. How it got there, I’ll never know!.
Got it on the shelf now.

Then:
Jealousy eats at me!

Packing in now; if it goes off again, I don’t think I  could survive the anger and hatred Fries would instil in me.

Going to get the nosh sorted – back in the morning.

♬ MORNING HAS BROKEN – Like Virgin Media…♬
Arrived; no medications were needed. But, she rubbed in some of the Phorpain Gel; to help counter the agony (tonight, anyway) of  .
Then to .

♬ FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD ♬
Lovely!

Oddlimost markings on the leg, spotted by the Carer?

I got up to take this shot. Had a second . Then knocked the kitchen roll and hander off of the window ledge. Bent down to retrieve it, and showed her disgust in her usual way – painfully! Then… , I spilt the milk all over the cooker!

Sleep was hard to come by again.

Back to the old rampages! They were amazingly vicious… but suddenly stopped, I got a clear, precise message from or , maybe from both of them, that momentarily made me shiver. No, messing about; it sounded like it was set in concrete… The warning, or quote, was; “This trifling incident was chicken-feed, fiddle-faddle, to the hassle you’ll get tomorrow, mate!” I was aware of his/their choice of words ‘Hassle’ No mention of injuries or any … just ‘Hassle’. My did not return… but they were not needed to keep me awake. My imagination and fear did a good job of that!

My , has never-ever been wrong!

Cheers, each!
He says nervously!