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Or it might have been Carer Victor or Israel. Erm, if I remember correctly, I’ll reveal it all on Monday.
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It was not an extraordinary sort of day, with a few intermittent happenings that were out of the ordinary. I can’t recall having a single 
, no, honestly! A carer failed to arrive for the midday checks, which was not all that unexpected; last Monday, a morning medication Carer failed to arrive. The ailments and injuries were, as usual, ever-present.
My 
, or of course it may have been 
, added up to three. This seems to be the agreed count these last few days, with my brain taking over masters 
in conjunction.
For some unknown reason, the burn on the right hand of the oven rack is taking a while to stop being painful. Constipation Conrad is back in charge of the evacuations. My concentration is no worse than yesterday. Not that that’s saying much. I think Concentration Konrad is now a permanent fixture. He joins the other ailments as a part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?
It’s a busy week coming up, too. On Tuesday, the J Sainsbury order arrives – a big one, too! On Wednesday, the Pegasus Police form must be filled in and posted back – without any help from Caregiver Kara, who is on holiday for a fortnight. The results could be catastrophic if I get confused and fill it in wrongly, but a man of calibre should be able to cope. When I worked at Tesco, I had six tills to cash up, making sure the money was right, coupons were given and checked, and even the issue of Green Shield stamps had to be checked every day of the week.
Of course, that was in 1966, a few years ago now. My brain had most of its functions working. All were pre my getting shot (twice), cancer, heart operation, duodenal ulcer operation, Cataract Katie, Glaucoma Gladys, Saccades Sandra, Dementia Doreen, falling in a lake, having the Stroke, getting Peripheral Neuropathy, Cancer of the bladder – Catheter Bag fitted… currently the most painful of the ailments! FND, Diabetes Insipidus, Diabetic Polyneuropathy – leading to Diabetes 2. Going deaf, a failed Cataract operation – currently awaiting a second one, a Glaucoma operation and having a permanent catheter fitted, Cartilage Chloe (left knee), Cartilage Carole (right knee), Onychovryptosis (Ingrowing toenails), None-Epileptic Seizure Disorder Dina, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Vasculitis Vanessa, Dental caries, which in turn assist my given ability for 
. I wear alert wristbands; if I wore one for each ailment, I’d run out of wrist and arm-room. Hahaha! I’m still searching for an ‘Allergic to Clopidogrel’ wristband. Not that I have room to wear it, Hehe!
They give Clopidogrel to everyone taken in after a stroke. But we didn’t know until it was too late that I was allergic to it. Thus, then I got Peripheral Neuropathy.
But it’s been fun and exciting. 
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I think I saw a speck of blood in the bag this morning when I photo’d it. Likely, it’s just a reflection from the flash, I assumed?
Much drizzle is out there from the balcony’s right window. The usual excellent parking is available from our senior citizens on the yellow chevrons, indicating, do not park here. I’m not jealous that the drivers can still afford to own one. Or that my licence had to be surrendered due to the ailments making me unsafe on the roads. 
Har, Har! The drugs would still have me nodding off; that’ll most likely be the s. Coming home from work one day from Rempstone, I stopped at some traffic lights in Clifton and dosed off for two hours. I woke up in an ambulance going to the hospital. I felt fine; I just have no memory of what happened. Apparently, other drivers couldn’t wake me up and thought I’d snuffed it and called an ambulance and police.
I decided that at that time, I’d hand in my licence. I realised that I could have killed someone. What if I’d been driving at the time? The RAC returned the car to my garage. I thanked them and cancelled my membership. Within two days, I’d given my beloved vehicle away. At least it helped a mate who was out of work. I never saw him again?
Boy, I’ve waffled on here! Sorry.
Off to the wet room.
A rare return of 
.
Almost caught me out! I was expecting a battle with 
.
After the slushy evacuation, the stomach remained gurgling. I cleaned things up and started shaving. 
Partway through doling, I hastily plonked down on the seat again for a repeat performance. Well, not so much, but what exited was even more watery this time. With a tinge of orange in the colour that was not there on the first session on the throne? By the time I finished shaving, washed, and did the medicationings for the delicate areas in need, then got the place cleaned up again, I’d been there for over two hours! It was a more painful-to-pass scenario, but I’d gladly welcome him back.
Pants and slippers on again, I meandered out onto the balcony. The rain was still pouring down.
I took the first two of the 
snaps. They were not very good, taken through the window glass.
I hobbled into the kitchenette to do the same through the kitchen glass. All three show how much it was raining, though. We had a fair bit of it yesterday.
There followed an almost rapid selection of 
I caught the hand in the window closing it, right on the burn scar, which naturally made me jump away… ; I knocked the towel roll and holder off of the window ledge. : The stalk broke off from the base. : Bending down to retrieve those as mentioned earlier, I hit my forehead on the edge of the radiator. Turned and dropped the walking stick, which hit the fridge and fell right on my left foot’s ingrowing toenail! Did I swear? Yes! And I did again when I realised I’d sprayed the kitchen cleaner all over the 
dressing gown when cleaning things up. Humph!
I got out the new vacuum cleaner and hoovered up the mess I’d made when walking to the wet room in the hallway.
I took a snap of the new cleaner to show you the fancy headlights on the machine. Hehehe! The vacuum arrived in eleven pieces in a square box, with miniature writing on the instruction booklet. Luckily for me, Carer Chris came and assembled it within three minutes. Of course, I could have handled doing it quickly; I just wanted the lad Chris to think he’d done something worthwhile.
.
The new Catheter Pouch Bag keeps slipping down the leg.
The new Tena Protection Pants keep slipping down.
I also seem to have misplaced my hearing aids. I’ve checked the wet room, kitchen, rubbish tip room, and front room without any success.
To the rescue again. He found the hearing aids within minutes. He’s a very good ferriter. While he was searching, he spotted some biscuits, and he had to have a packet. Hehehe! They had dropped behind the rickety 1962 G-Plan cabinet, and he retrieved them for me. Saved again!
The evening sky kept changing hue. Well, I thought it did, anyway. Of course, what my eyes see and you may not do… 
Or should that be the other way around? You can tell I’m getting tired, can’t you? My thoughts at this moment, remind me of 
vegetable dumpling stew… mixed, unclear and lumpy.
I took this last, catching the edge of the window frame and the sun on its way home. There’s an elegance to these sunset shots. They’re vivid yet semi-opaque – a bit like the cameraman. Har-Har!
A simple nosh for a simpleton.
Salt & vinegared chips, vegetarian sausages, a soft brown baguette with pickle-flavoured ketchup.
Followed by a pot of mandarins in jelly.
My hunger was pleasantly sated.
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TTFN
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That should have been a Pooper at the top, Sorry!
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Good colour.
Morning view.
Much painful urging was needed.
My food order arrived.
Spring water.
Carers, nurses, treats.
Food Glorious Food!
Sky photos were taken frequently as I made a mess of blogging. The pains eased a smidge when I got stood? 
Ever-changing views of the clouds.
Do you see the face?
Faces again.
As I was getting the meal sorted.
Carer Christopher came while I was imbibing the nosh. 
I’m not sure when I took this Kodak Tim shot.
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Dark urine again. Fancy that!
Renaud’s in the toes.
Time-killing crossword.
Teeth bleeding after cleaning.
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I rose from the bed at 05:10 hrs. First, I detached the nocturnal catheter pouch. 
Just a little painful.
This is a fantastic view from the kitchen window. Unfortunately, the blotches were caught in all the external photographs today, Humph! 
It was torture! I soon changed my mind, and at the same time, self-loathing erupted when I realised what I’d done… Again! I ordered the wrong size pants, Small instead of large! I’d pissed myself off, something wicked! The genitals were crushed as the catheter tube pulled tight! I grabbed the scissors post-haste and cut the PPs off. 
once more. The pain continued anyway, off and on, without evident causation? These white pants are so thick that I think they catch Little Inchie more than the slimmer ones, but they are just as effective as the Depend ones. I ensured the lad was treated to nibbles and drinkies by showing my appreciation for his time. It was his last night shift call, and I felt a smidge sad at keeping him from getting home.
I made up a waste bag and got on with the blogging, albeit stumblingly and error-ridden. These white pants continued hurting things below. I took an extra Codeine, hoping it might ease things. Huh! Of course, it did nothing to help pain-wise.
Carer Kimberley arrived. She knew I was in pain and showed concern; bless her. I told her of the earlier woes with Little Inchie. I decided to hand her the box of 30 Depend pants: no, 29 now I’ve tried on and scissored off one pair. Hahaha! My wondering wrongly cost me a good bit of cash! 
But thought that if I sent the box to Meridian to issue or use someone else… with less of a midriff on them, and they have also been catheterised, then they could possibly use them in the event that they run out!
I then ordered some large protection pants from the Amazon site. I made double-sure I’d ordered the correct size this time! Well, I did that last time (Well, I thought that I had) and still got it wrong, didn’t I? These were also dearer, but they looked more comfortable and seemingly had a waistband on them. We’ll see when they arrive. Amazon said they would deliver on Tuesday, which is good cause I’m going to Nottingham City Hospital tomorrow. To have the knees and ankles checked for Arthritis and Cartilage problems. Now there’s a word..
There were so many blotches on this snap of a puffer cloud that I was disappointed. I’ve tried cleaning the lens with a cleaner stick and impregnated tissues. Yet still they appear? Such are the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchie to curse with lousy luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, 
perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Cataract Katie, Neuropathy Pete, Doreen Dementia and Incogniscent Iris are the main culprits. There are others, of course.
There are beautiful clouds in the sky. But I suppose that’s where one would expect them to be. Hehehe!
amongst the clouds.
Later, the sun burst through, and I took this shot of the virtually mud-less end car park. A jolly good mixture of vehicle colours was on show for our perusal. The light blue one, as per usual, parked on the yellow chevron ‘do-not-park-here’ lines. But hey, why should I bother?
Getting a smidge darker out there now. Another gorgeous selection of clouds to find figures in!
Then, blow me, if half an hour later, out came the sun again, forcing her way through the ever-darkening clouds. Mayhap, a ‘Goodnight all!’ message? Hehehe!
Better get some fodder sorted out, then… off to the kitchenette, and I conjured up a simple meal for a simple, tired old man.
I enjoyed this one, especially the cunningly cooked potatoes in the crock pot that I sliced while still hot, sprayed with oil, and put into the preheated oven for ten minutes with the vegetable pastie. I ate it all up, washed the utensils and plate, and swiftly fell asleep watching the goggle box.
Carer Richard arrived.
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05:00hrs: What a hue to the morning view.
And flowed, and splattered…
, & 
were leaking the haemoglobin freely. 
By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work
Galore! ensued
The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final 
lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! 
Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet 
to life.
Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?
I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, 
which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult. 
fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants
, was not in such a 
bad mood. Hehehe! 
. What a change!
I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette.
A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the 
main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue.
tube inserted into poor 
, calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!
Sorted the bags out. 
Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.
The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the 
computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb. 
kicked 
off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it.
rang out, and in came Carer Richard.
taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles!
Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!
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‘s mass of flaked-off skin covered my spectacles, chest, and dressing gown, and left a reasonable deposit on the floor and £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
kicked off the moment I moved my left leg. But her joint was utilised to help me bend down to clean up my exuviated skin. The pain and efforts resulted in many visits from 
, 
, and 
.
Well, several of them. The day shot by, and I hadn’t even started this blog until Saturday (today)
were rampant. It’s as if they knew I’d drifted off. Sleep? Erm…what’s that then? Hehe!
.
You’ll notice that no night bag was attached.
brain; and, of course, 
. Possibly 
in amalgamation with the failed 
operation, cleverly leaving me with double-vision, and some wonderfully uplifting new skills, like walking into door frames, tripping over unseen objects, and the latest, bending down and hitting left-open cupboard door corners when rushing to turn off hot water tap (faucet), that I so regularly leave to run cold. 
I closed the left-open fridge door! I am so glad I wrote this bit now. My food could have decayed! As I am. Hehehe! Where was I? Oh, yes, the urine nocturnal pouch I forgot to put on. Remembered to ask the last Carer to take off my socks last night. 
The Iceland order arrived. 
The only good thing about the order. 
Food!
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.
It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday’s. But coming around afterwards, it took me a long time to get into a condition where I could tackle checking the blog work. It didn’t help that I had made so many errors.
Fantastic, beautiful cloud shots.
Maybe a 5 on the NHS chart.
Back to the wet room.
I had a pareidoliaising feast with this one.
Can anyone see them? 
Was the catheter pouch still a deep colour?
The late evening clouds seemed to be determined to come to the fore. You can imagine, methinks, what I saw at first with my left double-vision eye. Haha!
The bland, pale, undercooked Iceland chicken legs, substituted for the not available thighs, tasted like cardboard would, I imagine. The Heinz beans were also unremarkable. The instant potatoes were very nice, especially with the Heinz pickle-flavoured ketchup.
Took this last shot of the sky.
I managed to find five of them.
, which jumped me awake, but I soon nodded off again. 
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Night pouch.
Medicationings.
My ankles look fine.
The first emptying of the day bag.
Opening the balcony windows.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!
Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.
I took this night view and got settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep
back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
& 
both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. 
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gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think? This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had 
bleeding at 
the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.
dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, g
, 
, 
or any of the ailments really
room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my 
was getting better bit by bit. 
is to 
blame.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.
about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. 
I took these photos later. 
, I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A 
swiftly, ASAP.
I gave up on the blogging
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But the meal was worth the hassle. 
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04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git! 
Urine is even darker.
This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!
While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.
End car park view.
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
.
Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
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Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.
Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!
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05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
Dark, too dark again.
The first one was fairish, the second warped.
The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful 
Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. I struggled to stop 
, Cream on the 
. Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
Worst Ablution Session in a long time.
Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.
What an amazing hue!
Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little 
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