– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Each day brings new challenges: Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Seizures, Errors, Mistakes, and of course, Failures and Depression. This has to be coped with, I know this. It’s possible to accept these daily trials, because I also know there is no way of changing things. Docile-Subserviency is my only defence, well, it’s not even that really. There is no protection, no shield from lousy luck. One option, I suppose, is to go crazy… mind you, I’m on my way there now. You could not write a fictional diary with so much bad luck as I suffer diurnally in real life. There’s an element of humour within this tale of woe. I can’t find it yet, thought. But it’s there, maybe conjured from within my watered brain, Dementia Doreen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, or my previously famed resistance to depression. But of course, I can ask them for guidance, but getting a reply is a bit hopeful. Hehe! However, silly as it may sound, I think there is a better chance of getting an answer from these ailments than from Social Services. I was going to get help with the wheelchair problems, my computer problems, my financial problems, water on the brain problems and Neurological assessment and treatments… none have arrived yet. Still, I may live long enough for just the odd one to come? Which one would I like it to be? Erm… well, perhaps, or not, maybe… anyone would be of help. Chances of getting any? Zilch comes to mind. But, you never know, I might get surprised? On the other hand, my recent medical history says none, with a loud inner voice. Shame! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Woke at 04:55hrs. Night bag removed, and into the wetroom for a stand-up body scrum, teggies, a shave, this did not take place, then some medicationalisationing of my inner and outer extremities. Totally, at that time, I got dressed and went into the kitchen to take some shots of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. Again, hoping to take a decent one at least. The second was better. Got on the computer, but ran into complications again. From MS Word, CorelDraw and Google. No idea why things were acting up like they were. So many aspects were misfiring. Space bar not working, then came on again. CorelDraw froze. I got a message from MS re: Excel, but could not grasp the technicalities, so closed the window and then all the others and left it for a while before trying to boot again. Went to make a brew, returned and reset the calendar clock, and gingerly, but hopefully, turned the computer on. Nothing happened? The lights were lit? I meandered back to the kitchen in the full grip of . I took this snap of the slowly lightening sky. It was not a bad one this time. Compared to what my one eye saw and how the picture turned out. To say I was feeling so low and in a fair degree of depression, I noted this. I reckon I was convinced the computer had thrown in the towel, angry at all the failed promises of help that never arrived, and had resigned myself to it. Back to the computer and turned it on. This time, noticing the external drive thingamajig was flashing away at a fair pace. Took a snap of it, I’ve not got the foggiest idea why. The computer booted up, and the working light continued. I think it might be MS Excel and Word updating something? I waited 30 minutes for the flashing to stop, then opened Google and CorelDRAW. Ah, that’s better, things seem to be working correctly, well, as near to properly as one can expect from bug-ridden, overcharging CorelDraw. My attention was interrupted by a text message on my mobile phone. Ah, hopefully that will be the night catheters ordered by my Carer last Wednesday. (It was). I was tickled pink when the computer came on again and had a visit from . Which proved enjoyable and rid me of worry. But also this rare but welcome ‘Sod-Em-All’ sensation that comes with Horis’s attendance, caused me to wander off the plot, and I spent over three hours plus, working on the much missed ‘lost-but-no-idea-how’ word-list recreating. Was I bothered at the time? Nope! I regretted it in the morning when I realised I had done absolutely nothing on this blog and had to start from scratch. Yet I thought I had made a start? I suppose I can blame .
Then, I had the longest-ever seizure that I can remember. I estimate that it was for three hours, and the day had gone! The Carer was ringing as I was recovering from the effects of the visit into the unknown. My part-drunk mug of tea was stone cold, my body half hanging out of the chair; I reckon I was lucky not to fall off it. Yet the after effects, compared to a mini-seizure, were piffle; I was back near normal, within seconds, and the acrid taste coming up from the innards was barely noticeable. Carer gave me my medications, rubbed some pain gel in the right knee and was off, bless him.
The District Nurse arrived. I’m always glad when this happens. She’d come to check on my right leg and but saw the state of my left arm, and proceeded in a no-nonsense manner to pick out the dried blood and lymph blobules, clean it and put a plaster on. Telling me (with a smile), she had not come to do this, just your leg. Then she moved onto the leg; whipped off the diabetic strapping, pulled down the under-sock, and removed the blood-soaked plaster, cleaned it and put a new plaster over it. I thanked her and off she went on her rounds. I bade her farewell. This is when abandoned me, and . And stayed for the rest of the night.
This Is Spunk A New Mexico resident who dwells with a large clowder of cats. Don’t let the cute expression fool you. He is the leader of the group and his paperatzzi owner, Tim. No doubting it, he’s a handsome one. Although please don’t tell other furries that I said so. Hehe! 😹🤎
I overcooked my oven chips a little (a little? Hehehe!) That was after going through the whole packet of chips, especially selecting the small ones that would cook faster, as hunger was starting to get the best of me. I knew I’d just got to run a sweep of the computer with CCleaner and thought they would be nearly ready by the time I finished, about 12 minutes. But no, of course not. Had me deciding to do a few minutes of the word-listings. Eventually, an hour later, the door chime chimed, and I smelt the burning! I took the tray of, shall we say, singed chips out and photographed it. The Carer didn’t notice the smell, which amazed me. Medications were issued. Then I made up a meal of crisps and opened a can of pork hock. It had a ring pull, which I pulled. The result was a cut finger, well, a cut thumb. I got a packet of Cheesy Curls, some cheese, and put the meat on a tray. I missed the chips naturally, but was pleased that the makeshift meal tasted good.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Humankind, the epitome of entanglement, Each human individually so different, Some are passive, some violent, some truculent… Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant, Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent! : : : : : The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent, The poor, without clean water, living in a tent, The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant, The lying greedy shower in Parliament, Those mentally challenged & obmutescent! : : : : : The law-abiders, who are so obedient, Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent… No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent, The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent… The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant! : : : : : The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance, The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment… Stewing inside with injustice & resentment, Outwardly displaying mock-contentment, Their hopes & desires are only ruminant! : : : : : The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant, They forget things, making them more inconscient, Those without catheters may become incontinent, Their life’s meaning turns intervenient, Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent! : : : : : The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient! Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment, Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent, I can no longer afford to get myself temulent, Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment! : : : : : I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt… What chance of my body and brain’s renascence? I often go off track, lose the plot and scent… Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent… For years, my body has been going putrescent, Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment, I’ll leave this Ode as my testament! : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in! 04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe! I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!
I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them. I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha! When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes! After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. ! I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream onand feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!
I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.
Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added. Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.
I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?
Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!
STARMERS FUTURE
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – On the humorous side… I’m not in control nowadays, just a minimum, Vascular Diabetic Doreen is tinkling with my cerebrum, Harold’s Haemorrhoids controlling my bleeding bum, Bleeding from cracked teeth, lips and gum, Seizures leave me lost and numb, Uneducated… what’s a quasi-isomorphism? Between me then and now lies an impassable chasm, I’ve lost my freedom, thus enthusiasm But I’m still moderately skilled in sarcasm, I was fully committed to activism… I could do it now on a good day, but they’re seldom, I’m still well-known for my altruism, Gone are my days of professionalism… Doing my ablutions? Best described as gruesome, I fought and beat off alcoholism! But struggle to free myself from fatalism, Dictatorship, Communism or Capitalism? All addicted to despotism and materialism, Oligarchal, favouritism, federalism, feudalism, Earthlings will never adopt pacifism… I view hope for this earth with scepticism, Why do I bother? I must be dumb, No wonder I’m feeling so glum, Will St Peter do humankind’s postmortem?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. I felt much better than I did on yesterday’s rebirth into the torture of another day in my Nottingham-located Cell 72… no, flat, flat 72! My balance seemed much better, too!
I pondered on what the day may hold for me. It was a scary moment as my confidentless mind mused merrily over various possibilities and what mode of Accidauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
I got my slippers on (painfully) and meandered to the kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge. I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
Which expletive should I use? To reveal exactly how I felt at that moment. Disappointment, self-loathing, frustration, irritation, disquietude, perturbation, self-condemnation, self-commination, blameworthiness or guilt?
I suppose any one or all of them. I chuntered away, swearing silently, lambasting myself. My spirits took another dip when I found that most of the frozen food was no longer frozen, and a puddle had poured out onto the kitchen floor that I had not noticed and had walked all over the kitchen floor.
Mopping up while using a walking stick is not one of the most straightforward jobs. But I cheerfully spent over an hour whistling and singing as I mopped it up.
A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.
Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!
After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated. But no! Another reversal in controller this time. Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further! I got the crossword book to help kill the waiting time but couldn’t resolve any clues. A while later, the monster moved. Gawd, it was a whopper! It must have taken a full minute to complete its escape. Massive it was! There was a tiny bit of bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I cleaned up and medicated. Naturally, the mug of tea had gone cold again.
So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.
I did the morning BP test earlier, which produced the following results. SYS 151 DIA 70 Pulse 72, Temp 34.8 Level: HYPER
I did the evening check earlier than usual. SYS 144 DIA 68 Pulse 74, Temp 34.7 Level: Normal High, better!
I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
No trapped fingers this time!
Carer Sham called. I hadn’t seen her for months, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be here (which was natural). But I managed to make her smile once. She was treated as all Carers were at Christmas. She left smilingly anyway.
What An Amazing Session This Was! Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one!
Then, I did the teggies and nasal spraying.
Before moving on to the joy of a good shower, I had to remove the muslin day catheter bag cover from the pouch and leg. 2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
No Dizzies with the bending down, 3 no knocking anything off the floor cabinet, 4 no bruises or cuts. 5 No tearing of the mesh. 6 or accidents with the release valve. Brilliant!
Fair enough, I did tug at the tube stuck in Little Inchie, which caused me some pain… But 7, no bleeding!
I even adjusted the top two straps without causing any pain or harm. 8. Then, turn the shower power on in the hallway and collect the towel from the slow heater.
Turned the shower on. Got underneath the showerhead and carbolic soaped my blubbery-bellied body and ultra-thin bony legs and arms for ages. I wallowed in the shower.
I really enjoyed it!.
Showering was complete, so I set about drying off. First, the catheter contraption. I do that as advised using paper towels, I can’t remember why, but they told me to.
Then, my muscular young torso and bicep-ridden arms and legs. I won’t bore you with the whole routine. If I did, I might not live long enough to finish it! Hehehe!
The first task was getting the Catheter Contraption back on.
This did not go as easily as taking it off in the first place or anywhere but according to plan. Getting a muslin cover on caused a tear or two while trying to thread the tube and bag through it. . I ended up with , and the newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled . I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
The other medications went alright. Even stopping the bleeding and ointmentating Little Inchies fungal lesion went okay. Painful, but okay!
1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!
Pigs in blankets, frozen and oven-cooked for 40 minutes. The paper-thin bacon evaporated from the sausage.
They’d left me alone for a time; I’d forgotten about them.
FURRY TWO OF THE WEEK Dougs furry, Andy.
He’d just got back from the veterinarian.
He’s doing alright. Medication continues.
A characterful cat.
We all love him on WP.
I was weary, closed the computer that I was initially going to go back on, and fell asleep (bliss!) in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue-collecting recliner.
I awoke with Carer Chris’s face in mine and a big smile on his mush, telling me he thought I’d snuffed it. Laughter from both parties. Hehehe!
I tried to stay awake to watch the football on TV, but I fell asleep and woke up in time to catch the ending credits of the film that followed the football. Grrr!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ODE FROM INCHY AWAITING THE RETURN OF LOGICALITY Which I think will not return to me, Another loss, just like my sanity, Hoping for improvement shows my inanity, I prayed pleadingly to the almighty, I don’t think he heard Inchy, not with certainty, Then I tried Lucifer to free me from demonry, But I guess these pleas were more delusionary, They were for sure rather confusionary… Sometimes I feel near-contented, jaunty…
Usually, when Odeing, that to me is not petty,
For some reason, it is a lifegiving essentiality,
Even when the brain mangles my memory,
My computer bars graphics, & photography,
I hate violence, war and the Oligarchy,
I left the hot tap running; I did it twice today!
Suffer many bothersome mini-seizures daily,
With manifestations through my theopathy,
As one ages, words gain a new certainty…
I appreciate words, but not as easily…
Like, anonymity…obscurity, & uncertainty,
Invisibility, inscrutability, & anonymity,
Making decisions is complex, fuzzy, hazy,
Actioning finally taken often shows ethereality,
Making corrections, ridden with inner disunity,
Confusingly, words show a level of banality,
I have to treat specific memories sceptically…
Well, indeed, every memory or action doubtingly,
Look at the world, Putin, Starmer, Trumpery!
Complaining? Me? I’ve not got the temerity,
Although life can sometimes feel so tawdry,
It can be scaring, worrying, and depressingly, Yet, at this moment, there’s a sign of glee… I’ve beef in black bean sauce & a mug of tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Reluctantly, I stirred at 02:50hrs. Fell asleep at 0255hrs. Unintentionally, I stirred at 03:10hrs.
Fell asleep at 03:15hrs. Jumped awake at 03:30hrs. Lat pondering on a dream I’d just had that was not clear enough to recall in detail, but Grizelda was in there somewhere; the pain from the so rare involuntary movement in Little Inchies locality assured me that Grizelda was the topic of the dream. I think it was a pleasant one. Fell asleep at 0420hrs. Tried to find Grizelda in the ether again. No luck, of course.
I woke with a jump at 04:40hrs.
Fell asleep at 05:45hrs… I woke again around 06:00hrs and realised I needed to complete the ablutions before a carer arrived. I carefully dismounted the bed. Little Inchy’s temporary expansion had disappeared, leaving a small amount of blood coming from the catheter tube inserted.
Not for the fainthearted! I stripped off and put the nightwear in the laundry bag. Got a fresh catheter pouch holder, the slippers, and fresh Protection Pants, etc, ready for after the shower & shave, and medicationing duties were finalised. Took them with me into the wet room. The first thing was to get my bottom down on the WC. The evacuation was a tacky-sticky, messy one. I did the few teeth I have left, causing, I’m afraid, to kick off. Then, possibly the most farcical event of the day. Having a shave. An everyday event, but not for Inchy. A first-ever here! While shaving, I’m sure I went into a few seizures of over 20 minutes or so. As I had supposedly finished shaving and rinsing off the foam and blood, it dawned on me that I had shaved only half of the face and neck! It’s like I go on auto-pilot… but as with the computer, where I get the majority of the seizures. I keep doing things while ‘under the grip of (sometimes), and I come to semi-awareness to find I’ve made a mess of everything I’ve done. But this is the first time it has happened in the wet room. I assume, anyway. So I had to reshave again. Bringing up the total number of cuts and knicks to a count of five. : The usual routine was carried out, but the Catheter netting bag was not attached; too much genuflecting is not suitable for and upsets Dizzy Dennis, Arthur Itis, Cartilage Chloe & Carol, Bad-Balance-Barbara, and can trigger Tumble-over- or Trip-over-Trevor. , and . then rubbed in the Barrier Cream on Inchy’s-Bouncy-Belly, underneath the arms, on the forehead, lower arms and on the edges, and , and checked to make sure there were no more outbreaks of .
Then, I got the eyes and ears medicated. Next, I tackled the typically most painful medical sequences required daily. Little Inchies fungal cream applying!
This was the last job, as usual, in the wet room. Luckily, the pain does not bother me in the slightest bit. I just laugh it off and usually start singing a song or yodelling. Today, it was Frankie Vaughan’s Don’t Stop, Twist’… Argh!
was playing up again. Later, when I got on the computer, I gave the sparse teggies and gums a blast of £599.00 per 100 ml Toothache pain relief spray. Some effervescent paracetamols were added to the Bladder-demanding spring water bottles. I almost forgot to empty the nocturnal pouch. I then realised and stopped myself in time, as the Carer will need to confirm the colour with the NHS colour record chart/card. Carer Chloe arrived later and said it was a match with a classification of a seventh level. Ah, well!
SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME STARTS! As Carer Richard arrived, so did Sandra. I have no idea if he noticed my condition, and my recollections remain confusing. That’s how bad Sandra’s first attack was. This time, it was not so mini-either. Richard was here for a while, making his last night shift call. Thankfully, the blurriness and confusion had cleared by the time he left. But she gave me many more mini-blanks over the next four or five hours. My beloved DVT Anticoagulation Warfarin nurse, Hristina, arrived. And she could tell the difference in my responses… even if I couldn’t. My memories are still a little vague, but I’m sure she mentioned me talking to the Doctor about the seizures. Hristina is a lovely gal♥
My other friend, Jenny, called me. After she’d read about the Milk Roll loaf not being delivered, she arrived at the flat with a loaf of bread from her freezer for me. Another Gem! ♥
I struggled with the computer (I still am now, Tuesday p.m.), but despite getting further behind, I am determined to get the photos on the blog. It’s hard work! Aha, got some from, not many, from earlier in the day. Unfortunately, only these two above.
SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME RESTARTS! Little & often. I did give up then. I sat down and tried to get some sleep, catching up. Huh!
The Carer called; I was half asleep after waking up, yet somehow knew I was coming out of another seizure. Carer Promise took the washing down for me.
Afternoon delights in the sky
Bootiful!
Plenty of vehicles in today.
The last shot was as the sun was on its way down. Well, it wasn’t the last, but it was the last one the computer would let me save to file today.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My Eyes Are Getting Worse – Endless Mistakes! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Written (started) at 16:15hrs: A terrible night’s sleep again. The computer, bank, medical needs, the camera, TV & remote, a tumble later this morning, Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Memory-Mashing-May, Glaucoma Gladys, Catheter Cathy’s Pain-giving Contraption, Loss-Balance-Belinda, Back-Pain-Brenda, Mini-Seizures, Earache Erasmus, and Toothache Tiffany are just too much to cope with. That’s not counting the computer problems with Word, Excel, CorelDraw & Trotsky Terence. As I was typing this, the browser started doing I don’t know what, but it took a good half-an-hour before I could use it again, then I had to turn everything off and back on again. which I’d done twice earlier, already having to use Ccleaner twice to get some photos to go… I’m fed up!
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I woke for the umpteenth time, and I saw it was 06:00hrs. Just as the innards warbled at me, and that automatic butt-clenching you do when you know if you don’t get to the WC on time, you’re going to mess yourself! I had no doubt this was the case. I fumbled out of the bed, stubbing my toe, grabbed Four-Pronged Willy, the walking stick, and limped hastily to the wet room. EMBARRASSMENT – FRUSTRATION -SHAME! What followed was painful, embarrassing and not a pretty sight! I don’t need to tell you what happened, I’m sure.
I spent minutes nonstop swearing as I sat on the Porcelain Throne, clearing out what little of the evacuated produce was left inside me. Most of it was already down my legs and on the floor! Things actually got worse later! My anger and shame stopped me from crying!
A mammoth cleaning-up job was started. Me first, then the terribly sulk-making splashes on the furniture and floor were tackled. Using a mop and bucket while using a walking stick is not easy. I did, I thought, have the sense to take my time sorting it out. All clean again, I put the used kitchen towels (two big rolls) into a bag and put them in the large sharps box for disposal in the medical box. Back to the wetroom, and decided to get the ablutions done.
I did my tegggies—well, the few I’ve got left—and as I overreached to get the shaving tackle, I slipped on some disinfectant I’d put on the floor. I grabbed the trolley to keep from going down, brushing my head against the tackle on the top. I actually thought about going into a Smug Mode. I was so proud of myself for not ending up on the floor. I carried on with the shaving. Until I saw the blood coming down my face, I was sure I’d not cut myself with the razors? Down the side of the face, earhole, mouth, chin, and chest. Oh, dearie me!
The blood was coming from the top of my head, and then I realised it must have happened during the tumble.
I got the brute, liberally soaked some kitchen towels with it, and folded them on my head. That’ll stop it, I thought.
It just took a couple of minutes to finish the shaving, and the blood was down on my face and neck again. Well, I thought, this is unusual. The Brut always stops the flow of the shaving cuts. But not this time. I got some plasters and wadding I’d soaked with the Brut. Then I stuck it tightly on where I thought the wound was with the plasters. Then I did medicationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating pain was on a par with my getting the Protection Pants on. The head was not too painful at all. Finally, the wet room was cleaned and sorted!
Got a fresh dressing gown and went into the front room to see how or if the computer would act. My vision was blurred by the blood flowing down again. I realised, by the location of the blood on my hands and the removed dressing, that I’d missed some of the actual wound putting it on. I didn’t realise it was over such a large area. I’ve never had a wound so Bruted before, Hahaha! I could not feel any blood coming through this time. I thought that I’d cracked the problem. I put a woolly bobcap on to keep the pressure on the cut, graze or whatever it was.
Carer P arrived. And when I told P of my farcicalnesses with the ablutioning (not the pooing myself), he looked at it and said it felt dry, and we could take off the dressing now. He asked me first if I’d like him to Peel it off or to Whip it off. I asked for a Whip it off, please!
It bled again, but far less than earlier. Pleasant put another dressing on it for me. Bless him. He rang his controller to ask if the next caller could be made aware and check it for me when they arrived. Nice of him, that!
Then memory problems… me and the computer.
I won’t bore you again with all the details, but I used Norton and Ccleaner thrice to upload some graphics and photos to WordPress. It took me hours, and then I had to upload the files straight away before I ran out of memory again. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberly came next. She had not been informed about my Accifauxpa by anyone. Fancy that! She kindly checked it for me. It was still bleeding, but barely at all now.
Kimberly put a new dressing in. I think I can take it off tonight. She took a photo of the head before it started bleeding again and put a plaster on it. I’ve been looked after today. I didn’t mention the poo-poo. Whoopsie.
Then I got some more snaps that it wouldn’t let me earlier in the day.
This is the early one I took before my Accifauxpas during the rain. This was when I refilled the nibble box on the Nurse’s and Carers’ table.
Some new ones in there that they just might like. I hope the nurses will if they come. A slightly later shot of the local houses, most of which I noticed today, was leaving via Mansfield Road in their cars. Can’t blame them after four people were shot from a vehicle on Winchester Street. Which is about 300 yards from the houses and the flats I live in. The one on the left is a mystery one. No idea why I took it at all. This is a later shot of the houses I took with the old Kodak camera. I also used it to take the saucepan above left. You can tell by the different-sized pictures. Cat Shot of the Week!
Sasha is from New Mexico. Tim Price has a family of cats, and they are all beautiful and characterful. Tim says I can use some photos and hopes to put a cat/s of the week photo on this blog weekly. Sasha has always seemed like a thinking cat; her expression is that of a thinker. I love all of them from a distance. Especially the cheese queue photos.
Carer Alu came and looked at the head. It’s getting better already. I am going to make a meal of sorts for myself: baked crispy (I hope) potatoes, tomatoes with basil, yellow peppers, and sea salt, vegetarian sausages, and some Milk Roll bread to soak up the juices. Slurp!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I hope to be back in the morning. I took this just before the total darkness fell. I wonder if these are part of the Northern Light colours? I must search Google later. I got the meal as planned, made it, and served it. It was terrible-tasting.
I suspect I may have used the wrong seasonings in the tomatoes and sauce. I couldn’t taste any basil at all, but there was another tang to it that I couldn’t recognise and wasn’t too keen on. Tsk! Whatever it was, it ensured one of the messiest-ever dumps in the morning. And a multi-coloured evacuation, from black to beige in varying colours. With mighty super-sticky splashes to clean up, too! I washed the dishes and took another shot from the kitchen window, this time of a different but gorgeous view. Seconds later, the whole sky went dark.
TODAY HAS BEEN THE WORST EVER FOR DEPRESSION
I’m sorry, but things are getting gradually worse.
The insurance company has cancelled my policy for some reason. Carer Kara told me not to worry weeks ago when they sent a letter telling me I had not paid. Kara had sent the month through the bank, as she is my official representative.
Now it seems I have a different Carer, who can’t talk to the bank, and muggings here can’t get through because I’ve forgotten how to do it. The new catheter is a night and day, mare.
Concentration is taken over by worrying.
I have had the odd moment of feeling easier, but that only comes when I give up and think silly things.
Not in good shape at the moment.
I’ve not done many photos.
The electric shocks have lessened after yesterday.
Carer Precious. Carer Maryham. She helped me get dressed after checking the body for marks and ointmentating the chest and ‘other’ areas. She helped me put on the Yaohuole gown, put the old one in the laundry bag, and took it down for me as she left. Bless her.
I was not feeling down at all; in fact, I was high.
Later, Carer Joanne called with a training Carer. She was Carer Šelin. Nice gal. Listened to Joanne’s instructions.
I was then even higher, singing.
Then, later, Carer Chris arrived. A letter from the insurance company had been delivered. This is terrible news for me. How the hell can I sort it out now?
I’ll do my best. I’m struggling.
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First view.
Guess where I went… Not that I was too bothered; I’d sank a little.
Second photo.
While up, I got the pander peas podded. I shelled them and put them in the pan with some demerara sugar, and this time, I used ordinary salt.
Lack of concentration.
Fed up. I wrote a terribly sour ode, but I am unsure if I should publish it on tomorrow’s blog. It is a cry for help, I think.
See how things go the morrow.
I was sorely tempted to start on the booze again.
I’m sure I will soon. That’s how bad the depression is getting to me today. Bad!
When the seizures started, I couldn’t have cared less. Dark thoughts milled around.
Self-pity and loathing at the same time.
I’ve no idea why I put this on? I took it weeks ago.
No memory of taking these four, but it looks like I did them all at the same time; it may have been before I got the spuds in the oven on a low heat for later. Beautiful!
And stayed in there for about three hours! I may have to have instant mash later. Tsk!
Tried to catch up with the blogging. I’d spent so much time being depressed, coping with seizures or emptying this ridiculously tiny day catheter pouch.
If I recall correctly, I was going to check on the state of the spuds and got distracted by the changing sky. The spuds were left for another hour and a half before I remembered about them!
Went to salvage what I could.
A slight altercation getting the spuds out of the oven. The meal didn’t look attractive. A vegetarian one this time. But it tasted good to me.
After Carer Chris had departed, I washed the things, put them away, and took these sun-setting shots. Looked a little like a water painting job.
More seizures today.
eBay delivery for Thursday is still on the way, they say.
The worst cartilage was Chloe by a long way.
I dropped the camera trying to take a selfie,
The urine in the pouch is looking bloody,
I struggle for words, speaking with inarticulacy,
Hard work doing my odeing wordsmithery,
Producing too much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Wardens Dean and Julie saved the day…
They fitted the baby monitor for me today,
As recommended by lovely Jenny,
This was a rare moment of fortuity,
Now the intercom & fire alarms are heard by me!
HMG Enforcement Team, re a licence for my TV,
They threaten with a £1000 fine, you see…
I anticipate they’ll treat me frumpishly,
And not offer me any gigmanity,
Life is just an assortment of gallimaufry! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind now, even later than yesterday.
It’ll have to be a quickie. I’ll not skip over the help I gave, though. That was appreciated so much. Night pouch. A bit of rain overnight. Bless him! The petrichor smell is beautiful. Fibre TV from Liberty-Global Owned Virgin Media, is crap. Nothing new, I know. But checking on the note to see just which internet servers they own or have investment in reveals;
Liberty Global is a world leader in converged broadband, video, and mobile communications and an active investor in cutting-edge infrastructure, content, and technology ventures. With our investments in fibre-based and 5G networks, we play a vital role in society. We currently provide over 85 million fixed and mobile connections and roll out the next new products and services while readying our networks for 10 Gbps and beyond. We’re creating national champions, combining the best broadband and mobile networks under brands such as Virgin Media-02 in the UK, VodafoneZiggo in The Netherlands, Telenet in Belgium, Sunrise in Switzerland, Virgin Media in Ireland and UPC in Slovakia. Liberty Global Ventures, our global investment arm, has a portfolio of more than 75 companies and funds across content, technology and infrastructure, including strategic stakes in ITV, Televisa Univision, Plume, Lionsgate and the Formula E racing series. Our scale enables us to transfer knowledge and expertise across our operations and investments, creating a dynamic family of brands united in the pursuit of innovation and excellence. We prioritise diversity, equity, and inclusion in our workplaces and communities while reducing our impact on the environment. We are using technology as a force for good for our people, our partners, and the planet. Virgin Media, 02. Thee3, Vodafone, BT, and EE are all owned by or have majority shares in them. This includes most of the smaller companies that can get a service supplied that works and is reliable… until Liberty-Global gets the financial teeth into them.
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eBay informed me that the order is being delivered by last Thursday. The tracker point has not moved since Tuesday. They sent me an Email to give my response to the product and rate it. I replied simply, Camera Not Arrived Yet.
The lost listings on the computer have returned, but they are scattered about in different files, and I’m lost now where anything is. Thank You, MS.
There were a few today, but worse than these were the Mind-Blanks and Seizures. There were so many of them, all short-term. I had one when Carer Maryham was here again, but I was not aware until she told me.
Then, when the new child monitors were delivered, please make a note of that, eBay aficionados. DELIVERED at the time specified, not leaving me still waiting in vain hope and unaware of when or if they will even get here at all! Grumph!
I struggle to read the instructions, even with the new glasses on my head. And Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was not letting me grip the parts I had to open. I rang , to tell her about the arrival, and she and Desk-Top Dancing Warden Julie. came up to see me. That was so nice of them. ♥ The two of them soon got the thing working for me. ♥
They did it in no time. Julie put the sender part on the top of the intercom box when they realised I was having difficulty hearing the intercom ring, as well as the fire alarms and the door chime. Deana even tested the intercom when they went to see if I could hear it from the computer. It was just Grreat!
Late shots were taken over an hour or so.
I prepped and served up the meal.
Carers Christopher and Trainee Promise arrived as I was getting the plate on the tray. Apart from , I enjoyed it, but I had to eat it carefully. Haha!
From after they had gone, and including their raiding the nibbles on their next call, the next thing I recall is being in bed, getting electrocuted regularly by .
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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday. Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today. However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg). ①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha! ② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem! I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…
According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.
Off to the wet room Throne.
Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.
Rubbish sorted.
At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.
Carer Maryham arrived. She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open. Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.
After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.
An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them. Humph! I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions. Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha! I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table. And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks. Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink! I’ll not get them again!
I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later. On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her. Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems. I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either! As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call. It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving. It went like a dream! Not a single cut! I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!
What next? I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good! Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications. Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me. So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day! I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!
I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.
I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal. Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter. I enjoyed this.
Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement. I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!
The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .
Worra Day! Afraid these events are out of sync chronologically. You’ll notice the part-shaved moustache. This is on here because… Wait for it!… Today, Carer Chris learnt how to access the Kodak Tim memory for me. He transferred the ‘lost’ photos to the SD card! So, some old/new Kodak Tim pictures will be added to the blog over the next few days. This is the first one. I took it as I was in mid-shaving cause I thought it was funny. Not bad for a selfie. As I recall, I got the dressing gown on to fetch Kodak Tim and took this snap without the SD card in it. So it was a while ago cause the memory had been packed for weeks. Hehehe!
The District Nurse arrived, doing a great job with the ankle and leg. Compression bandages (I think she put them on) help to stop the oedema fluid from flowing freely from your legs. She also warned me that they would get tight and may cause too much pain for Burnt Ulcer Ulrich and/or Lymphorrhea Leslie’s Leaking Leg. I was to ring them if it starts leaking through. The Nurse or another one will call on Tuesday to check things out. I was appreciative and well pleased with her care for me.
I was disappointed with getting the five cuts while shaving, but the good stuff far outweighed that. And I’ve not mentioned the late Accifauxpas yet. I’ll tell you later. A delivery of nibbles has just arrived, along with Carer Joanne bringing in a letter from the bank; that’s one for Carer Kara there.
05:00 hrs, I stirred. I got the night pouch detached, then bounded out of the bed, doing a double flip as I leapt over the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner, and disome toe-touches and press-ups… You’re not believing this, are you? I don’t blame you! I’ll start again…
05:00 hrs, I stirred. I got the night pouch detached. Then, I fumbled painfully out of bed, resistantly, uneagerly, slowly, and due to the need for the Porcelain Throne, thus, under compulsion of necessity. En route to the Porcelain Throne, I gleaned that both and her fellow ailment , were both building up to give me some terrible torture today. I was not wrong, as I discovered later. I on the wetroom door edge, going in. Then, the great wait began! I had a go at the crossword book long enough to realise I would not get any further with this puzzle, so I moved to start another one. I couldn’t even get a start on this page. So, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling, 23 today, but I can’t be sure about the state of my eyesight. The painful part-extruding concrete torpedo seemed to have stopped, and I did not show any response to my frantic physical urging it to move on. I had another go at the original crossword and solved some clues. I may have discovered a way to do better with the daily crossword efforts; I seem to get a few when I’m in pain? Gobsmackingly and slowly, the motion moved, with minimal bleeding, considering the almost cube-shaped concrete lumps that had evacuated. I only had a quick wash because the blog was calling to remind me how far behind I was on yesterday’s issue.
I took these three blotchy Kodak Tim photos of the morning view to the left, then the right, and ahead, but not in that order.
Then, I continued trying to catch up with the blogging.
Her persistent attention annoyed me, and the cartilages wanted to give way each time I moved, which was not very often.
Sorted out the three waste bags into one.
I got two potatoes out, intending to cook them early today. But my plans were scuppered when I forgot about the Nurse coming to do the leg and ankletoday. I got on with blogging, but it was a difficult time. Mind blanks, eyesight making things more demanding, and a couple of Seizures had me in the right state, confused! I nipped to the kitchenette a few times to break the frustrations.
I took these three wonderful cloud views over maybe the next three hours. Very close and warm today.
I had a bag of seaweed crisps; they were tasty but costly. I’m back blogging and feeling a little better.
I meandered into the wet room to get my belated ablutions tended to. I got the shaving done (2 tiny cuts) and a Body wash. I couldn’t have a shower with the leg being wrapped up. It was the Midwife—no, I meant the District Nurse. I snapped the leg as it looked just before she got here. She saw me in the wet room and went to do someone else in the flats while I finished the medicationings and got some pants on. I thought that was a good idea. I recall that the Nurse had been a lovely, well-built piece of the NHS—Haha! A lovely lady. As she was midway through sorting the leg out, Carers Chris and Ayu arrived. We all seemed to have a laugh and most pleasing chinwag as the Nurse did the job for me. Bless her.
Chris took a photo of the newly designed and tended-to leg and ankle and helped me get into the slippers. The bleeding, spouting, bruised legs now have a ‘cap’ on the ulcer and lesion burn and a swath of padded compression bandages. Much more comfortable than the plaster pad thing was. This soon altered! And with just haven’t stopped stinging at me. These ailments ruined my sleep again; I spent more time awake than asleep overnight. Here are some of the recovered snaps that Carer Chris accessed for me. These were from yesterday, I think. Carer Chris crept in while I was preparing the meal, cunningly grabbed Kodak and snapped all these shots of the flat’s chef (me, Haha!). He got a little carried away when he was taking them.
He caught me well, as he took them without a flash, and I didn’t notice he was here. Thanks to Cataract Katie, Glaucoma Gladys, Deaf-Duncan, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I was oblivious to Chris even being in the flat. I didn’t half-jump when I finally noticed him. Ha-ha! Chris’s smug smile and laughter were worth seeing as he roared, ‘I Gotcha!’ He did, too! Chris said I looked like someone doing a brain operation and was concentrating hard as I sliced the potatoes and added them. The above shows the resulting 8/10-rated meal. I was so in pain and tired I made do with baked spuds and vegan sausages. This is a retrieved snap from the Kodak Tim memory. I think it was Tuesday’s or Wednesday’s meal.
, , with to give me terrible hassle overnight pain-wise. I had to use two walking sticks in the morning, temporarily.
I started the ablutions. I cut shaving cream, cut gums while cleaning my teeth, and stubbed my toe against the support bar. These were not unusual incidents; they were everyday incidents. Hehehe! The ankle ulcer looked likely to erupt again. But blessedly, the Left and were rare today, as indeed they were last night in bed, only had three. I noticed that the finger’s mystery blue patches were back again. They don’t hurt, and it’s not often I can say that about my ailments, especially the catheter tube giving Little Inchy so much stick! The cut lip from yesterday’s was scabbing up already. I could see it later on, and the blood flowed.
I opened the window to take this shot but got wet in the rain. I closed it and took this shot as the rain suddenly got a lot heavier. I’d like to point out that I didn’t trap my finger! I’d turned off the flash, so I think the flash on the photo must have been from the reflection of the lightbulb.
Sorted the waste bins into one bag.
The end car park mudslide was building up.
I got on with updating yesterday’s blog. But for some unknown reason, the damned tube was so painful this morning. And it felt again, just like yesterday, that I thought I was getting a backflow? Still, it’s only pain. Luckily, I have an incredible pain tolerance level and am a brave, heroic sort of chap, you know. It made concentration difficult, and, of course, many mistakes were made and corrected. I expect I missed many.
Carer Shaquille called. Medicated me, put the diabetic socks on for me, and the light build blew! He heard it crack! I got the spare out of the cabinet, and he offered to swap the bulbs. He’s a tall lad who could reach up easily enough. It took him ages, as the bayonet in the socket had a bit of plastic broken off, making it difficult to fit it in, but he did it. The replacement bulb had a clear glass. Boy, it’s got a bright light; neither of us could believe it. Thank you, Shaquille! Saved the day!
I tried to concentrate on the blog as best as I could. Cock-up, following a mistake, quickly followed by another error.
Carer Sam arrived. I was telling her about the problem and pain with the Catheter. (Which, incidentally, eased off a lot of hours later.) However, the pains started almost the second Little Inchie got some respite. It’s being so lucky that keeps me going, you know.
Still raining!
I think this was an unintentional snap that I took. I’m not sure what I Kodak-Tim’d.
The flow of urine increased. It suddenly became less frequent that I had to empty the pouch. And I was busy blogging (or making mistakes), so I wasn’t drinking anywhere near the usual spring water intake. But what I was passing was gin clear with none of the fluffy bits in it. I was baffled and in pain at the same time. After about an hour, the flow restarted. Then the pain lessened, still there, but far less severe. I thought, what’s going on here?
Carer Israel arrived as I was emptying the pouch into the jug. He pointed out that the fluffy bits were back again! Embarrassingly, he looked at the tube entry point and noticed that light brown gunk around the plastic tube had also returned. He wanted to ring the Doctor for me. But the pain was easier to cope with. (Of course, it got worse later. Tsk!)
It’s still raining!
Took this shot later. Came out fairly well. Apart from the blotchy smudges, of course.
I noticed this advertisement when looking for local snippets earlier in the day. It reminded me of my cyber buddy, Tim Price in New Mexico. He’s a clever photographer and naturist, amongst other qualities. He lives near a bosque, and his photographs of the local Owls are just great. Here’s one in particular that I think should be in a nature or art gallery. Brilliant! I’d loved to have gone on a visit to see the baby owls.
This is the early morning shot of the mudslide. This one is how it looks now! Wet!
I think the rain is easing off.
Ten minutes later – Yes, at last!
A late call from Carer Israel is due anytime now. Then it’s food, then Kip for me! Israel arrived. My socks were taken off, medication was given, and he checked the Catheter for me. Gunk still leaking from the tube at the insertion point. Tsk!
Food attended to.
How did you do? Well, that should have been easy enough. Even I got two of them. Hehe!
