Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic! The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!
I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut. I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!
I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me. As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what? I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.
Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out. ! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.
Between , supported by it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.
Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this. Frustration Frank visited.
Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.
Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!
If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven. I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.
But the odds are it’ll be me!
Gorgeous clouds.
Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning. I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well!
I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.
Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it. Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheers!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – No Accifauxpas. No shaving cuts (No shave) There was just one partial tumble. I did not suffer any injuries or harm, apart from a smidgeon of backache from when I landed. There were no nurses or regular Caregivers. Up until 16:30 hrs, there were no ‘s from either ankle. Then they kicked off big-time but have just ceased to bother me now. The eyes faded a little later than usual, but they are even worse now as I type this. Another late start on the day’s blog. The main problems have been the ankle ulcer and repeated periods of being Out-Of-It, Cogniscent Impairment and Mind Blanks or Non-Epilectic Seizures. I had one when Carer Israel came, but he was aware of my problems and handled it politely. Another Carer called, and I was deep out of it. I think he called 111 about the leg ulcer for me. But I’m hoping he will call again later so that I can find out what, if anything, was arranged and if I am to do anything? I just can’t gain any memory with any clarity over the visit. He was caring, I reckon. But I cannot remember him leaving either. Oh, dearie me! Alu was here such a long time too, trying to get me sorted out. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not a good start. But then, whenever is it?
Bags sorted out.
Blogging for several hours, and Carer Israel arrived, on his way home, last call. Did a good job with the diabetic socks, and put some cream on my ankle first. Treated him.
Pressed on with the blogging. Taking the above photos of the view in-between moments of with-it and Out-of-it.
I lost several hours when Carer Ayu came. I was just not with it, and I am still unsure if I have to do anything about the ankles he phoned up about. He creamed the ankles again and gave Back-Pain-Brenda a dose of Phorpain killer salve.
I espied the laundry that Carer Chris returned for me last night. Got dressing gowns and nightshirts hung up.
Even more rubbish was cleaned up. My mind was getting me to do the blog, but Doreen Dementure rather wanted me to start other jobs and forget about them, and others started.
Afternoon clouds as the sun disappeared, although it did fight its way through again later.
I came across an SD card in the drawer and looked at what was on it. I found three very sad photos and felt so sorry I’d looked at them now. My old neighbour Josie ♥, as I took her her Sunday lunch. Some drinkies and nibbles. I used to look forward to doing this every Sunday for her. Sadly, Josie took a tumble and broke her hip. I wanted to find out which home she’d be taken to so I could somehow visit her once a week. ♥ But it’s a secret, and I am not allowed to visit her. Why, no one knows.
Sister Jane’s Mr Fooey! ♥. I think he was 17 when he passed away. I cried as I recall. He was nearly blind and deaf, had liver problems and yet he was the gentlest cat I’ve known. ♥ This is mugging’s me. But why was I so sad to see this selfie I took by accident in the lift? I used to go out with the trolley, walk over the road, up through my beloved tree copse, down to Mansfield, and into Sherwood to get my shopping. Then, back down to Winchester Street Hill, ascend back to the flats, and get into the lift. I look fresh in this photo, too. It was never a problem to get out. Now, I even need help getting dressed, but mind you, I don’t often get it, even when I’m going to the hospital. I started to mope a little. Carer Aju arrived to cheer me up a smidgeon. But as I got some Lamburgers cooking, my spirits and memories of these three photos got to me. This suddenly reminded me that I had not had a wash and shave today, but I didn’t seem bothered now. It’s a risky thing to do with the eyes so bad. So, I closed down the computer and made a nosh of sorts: a burger on rolls and tomatoes. Accompanied by the pathetic blues.
I think I’ve used this one before. Sorry!
Back in the morning folks, I hope. What a rotten-in-and-out-it day.
I’m back…
My meal feast
Carer Richard arrived. Late call. He took off the diabetic socks. Painkiller given me. He was here a while, I think. But I was in an Out-of-It condition. I think I got into the hospital bed before he left… Confusion Conrad again.
I’m sure I was in bed and suddenly got up to wash the meal-making and eating items. I think this photo was found on the camera in the morning, with blotches included.
Could I get to sleep? No, not for ages! I had no defence against the haunting onrush of. I played about with the hospital bed’s controls and eventually found a more comfy position. But it didn’t help. Steve instilled hatred, self-lambasting, and feeling sorry for myself. It took me hours before I eventually nodded off. Humph!
Today was shared between moments of witwantonry, fear of reincarnation, frustration, Accifauxpas, self-vilification, futility, repudiation, prevarication, mystification, blogging addiction, mind-blanks, neurotransmission twitches, wrenches, and jerks, Shoulder Shuddering Shirley, aches & pains, headache and toothache that had me believe that having a trephination I’m on list for, would be less painful. A genuine ordalium! It would have saved time and been just as accurate to have typed. ‘It was a normal day for me today’. But I like a graphic explanation now & then. Hehe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I think yesterday’s tumble off of the stepladder may have affected the colour of the urine. So much of a deeper red than usual, even for a morning. I got a letter confirming that I’m on the list for the trephination procedure. That cheered me up instantaneously! The noninvasive CAT scan results were unclear enough, so they must look closer. Someone will call on me later to explain the procedure, nearer the time.
I made a milkless brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea this time. Not that it mattered because I let it go cold, forgot all about it, left it near the kettle, and meandered to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuated product was a deeply, almost yellow-coloured. Soft, wet miniature golf ball-sized chunks, followed by some same-coloured soup as a backup. Well, there was no crosswording today. Still painful, though.
I concentrated on updating yesterday’s blog. It went well for the first half-hour or so. Then, my attention was disrupted by both ankle ulcers, the left one, for the first time in weeks. I soon realised they were far worse when they stayed down at the ankle and not the usual climbing up the leg. A different type of pain this morning, and they have stayed like this all day up to now. It was hard work on the blog now, slow and mistake-ridden.
Carer Chris arrived. He did the medicationalisationings and got the diabetic socks on, which was a little painful; the ulcer area seems more delicate today. He had drinks from the fridge and nibbles from the Carers & Nurses Table tub. Later, he returned with the laundry and took the waste bags away with him.
For about three hours, I repeatedly went into either Mind Blanks, a few sort of Brain-Refusing-to-Work Moments, and possibly non-epileptic seizures. Each time, it was like starting over again without knowing what I’d done already or not. Even after reading the blog, I could not recall doing some of what I’d written. This period was broken with the arrival of Carer Joanne, bless her. She soon noticed I was confused; many would not have picked up on that. She was not very well herself, yet she spotted my frustrations and confusion. ♥ Thank you! 💕
I took an enforced break from the computer, as my eyes were getting worse earlier than ever today, and a break might help my brain. I went through some boxes and bins, collecting more rubbish and putting it into a waste bag. I got the Hoover out again and did the hallway.
I took a Kodak Tim shot with the blotches in it and felt I had to just sit down. So I did. I dropped on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I didn’t nod off, but I did stir after looking at the dirty upholstery and tried a small patch with the foam cleaner and brush. What a mess! I’ll try again tomorrow after asking a carer to read the instructions on the can that I can’t. Hehe! It looks dirtier than it did before I tried to clean it! Humph! I decided on an early meal… not a good idea, I realised afterwards! Grumph! I had to remove the potatoes with black-eyed shoots from the Sainsbury bag; oh, no, it was Asda’s.
Sprayed them with oil, the good ones, and into the oven. Got a vegan pastie in the microwave, ready to heat later, and foolishly sat down again on the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, Little-Inchy-Nipping, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Then, I fell asleep! And I had a fantastic dream, which I wrote notes of to make tomorrow’s ode out of. Then, I smelt the burning from the kitchenette! I stumbled to get up to check the state of the food and gave way as I struggled out of the recliner. Clunk-Thud! Down on my knees! Getting back up with such haste, bearing in mind that the food may be on fire in the oven… a degree of semi-pity took hold of me. I went through a pain barrier to get up quickly, but unfortunately, against the chair wheel en route to the kitchen. My language was atrocious! And my potatoes were burnt to a cinder! With , I dared not even try to eat one. Still, I had the vegan pastie to eat, and all was not lost, even if it took me half an hour to clean things up and throw away the chip tray! Grrr!
Things got worse. After using the oven’s heat to heat the vegan slice, which looked and smelt so lovely, I got it onto a dish and added some fresh halved tomatoes and brown sauce. I knocked the pastie wrapper off the worktop as I placed it on the tray and saw the use-by date on it. Disasterously, at least sadly, it read, ‘Use by Jul 18 2024’! So that was binned as well. My three mini tomatoes meal was eaten with some dry bread and sea salt. Hahaha! I wonder what the prisoners in the HMP, I can see through my kitchen window, had for lunch?
As is evident, I’m not usually stuck for words… but I was here! Spit!
Now, I am hours late and behind with the blog. It will cost me tomorrow to catch up.
I’m not up to doing any more blogging after today’s erm… well, daymare! I took this snap from the main room on the balcony. Then, I went into the kitchen to take this one of the offered views. When I first looked through the window, I saw a flock of birds flying by; I could not see which ones. But they were long gone by the time I got the Kodak out. There appeared to be hundreds of them, but with Glaucoma Gladys and Catract Katie, who knows?
I lost my District Nurse for the leg ulcer and Lymphorrhoea Leslie. Last call today. The wound has healed. Damn it! Another bright highlight is lost to the misery of my existence. The pain was worth it to get some company in the flat. Still, they will call to tend to the Catheter contraption every few weeks. So all is not lost company-wise. I got an unexpected Iceland order today. I cannot recall making one at all. To make things worse, I’d just made one for Friday! The ablutions again took me an age. Nearly three hours. Of course, after that, I forgot what I was doing and got terribly confused. When I returned to the computer, I proceeded to open the wrong blog and lost hours again before I realised I was working on an old one. Then, I made a mess of transferring it back to the original blog, and even more hours evaporated while trying to get it right again. I fear it may contain some errors, mistakes and cock-ups. I even made a mess of the Ode and had to touch it up… but now I find I’ve reposted the graphic with the mistakes still on it. Condemnatory self-loathing combined with a frustration of mega-proportions followed. There is no doubt about it: & They are winning the battle to control my mind. They are increasing cock-ups daily and creating a feeling of pointlessness in life. Along with my financial bewilderment, my frustration grows deeper. The pointlessness I feel now is prompted by my inability to counter these at-the-moment problems and knowing they will only worsen. It’s the same with , & dying-off. It ain’t gonna get any better. All this created a counter-opinion, and I feel shame complaining to myself. Obviously, (to me), I must deserve this misery. My past actions, maybe? I am just hoping that someone in the medical world reads this blog and can conjure up some compassion and help me to cope. Hahaha! Enough of this self-pitying! At least, although a struggle time-wise, I can somehow produce the odd decent ode. Even if this blog is reduced to just an ode a day. Inevitable eventually, what with taking me three hours to get the ablutions done, and all the time spent correcting errors, the tumbles and stumbles, my camera using problems, my memory being unreliable, the catheter pains, Leg dances, my eyes fading, lack of hearing so bad I can’t hear the intercom, fire-alarm, door chime or water leak alarm. I’m guessing what people are saying. And the unwanted Dark-Dank-Depressions after each related incident, yet I still love doing this blog & ode. So, as long as I can, I will, even in cut-down form. I love reading other folks’ blogs and receiving and answering comments on mine. It’s my social life. And I do appreciate it. I can’t help it; I’m addicted! Now, where are my Codeines? Hehehe! Another minimalistic set of unreadable notes to refer to. It’s a good job that I took some Kodak Tim photographs to help me recall things. But it is now tomorrow, and my recollections needed some help. I’m getting things so mixed up lately. My concentration and eyesight are getting worse earlier each day.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed, and the day pouch connected. At the same time, a little naughty, disapproving language was spoken to the painful . Which seemed to get them more irritated. Tsk!
I got the three waste bags made into one and placed it near the front door. I then had an . I didn’t need to struggle to remember this incident! I hit my poor left foot’s toe as I turned around to return to the mini-hallway. Arrgh! Even considering what was about the Cartilage girls and what was about to happen in the wetroom, this remains the single most painful experience of the day!
I hobbled to the kitchenette and took some non-prescription painkillers. Taking this photo of the view from the window. Still cursing for stubbing my toe!
I got on the computer to start the graphic for the ode of the day. To my Utter Dismay, the alignment options in the WordPress Gallery had a blank icon for the No Alignment choice box! Has anyone else gotten this new error from their WordPress? All is not lost. Pressing the blank rectangle still makes the graphic or photo non-alignment. Good innit? WordPress!
Five cube-shaped articles plonked into the WC. Followed by a short hailing of following up. I got the feeling that I had better not stand up yet. A good job, too! For a second wave from , heavier than his first, flowed… well splattered, freely. I think I was lucky here.
I cleaned and cleared up after the double-entendered evacuation. And did the teggies. Then, the potentially dangerous job of shaving was tackled. Five bloody cuts, and a later by around ten minutes, I gave up trying to stop the flow of the red stuff on my cheek and nose. The Brut was not working this morning. This called for the strong stuff! I got the tube of cream that I used for Little Inchies Fungal lesions and dabbed some on the stubborn face cut. I’m so glad I didn’t jump any higher than I did, or else my head may have gone through the concrete ceiling into the above flats’ wet room! Well, it felt like it! I put a plaster with some Dettol on the ultra-tiny cut. Then I had another jump!Hehehe! But it did the trick for a while and stopped the flow. Then, yet another farce: getting the fresh PPs on. It was all the same hassle and pain as yesterday’s attempt, but it took longer to get them on today. I’m not sure why, really. Silly me! Obviously (now I think of it), were hurting me far more today. It was another record length of time to get the job done.
I got back to my blogging duties, and the intercom sounded. It was a food order from Iceland. And did I make one only yesterday for next Friday? Indeed, there was an error somewhere. As I accepted the bags kindly dropped in the doorway for me by the driver, it was clear from the contents that this was indeed my order. The 2 extra large Lamb Shanks confirmed this. I got the things stored away, and what a job this was! After loading it up, I thought I heard the fridge creaking. Hehehe! I was pleased to see that I had some more pod peas in there, and they will be eaten up with a lamb shank & gravy, with some roast potato cubes! Iceland had substituted some items again! Don’t think that this angered me, made me spit, or got me feeling all pissed off. Well… yeah, I did! A few drops of rain when I eventually opened the curtains and took these belated morning shots of the view from the balcony. The mudslide was somewhat intrusive this morning; well, it’s lunchtime now.
The Cartilage Girls continue to give me some pain. In fact, not that I’ve done a lot of hobbling about. Cartilage Chloe once and Cartilage Carole twice gave way on me. But thankfully, there have been no tumbles. I’ve been Tumble-Free all day up to now!
Carer Sam called belatedly. They are doing their best. Obviously, they have problems just as we do. No bother.
I launched myself most belatedly at the blog updating.
District Nurse Sarah (I think it was) came in to check over the burst ulcer from the burn and Diabetic Edema. She called for advice, and they agreed that this is as much as is needed with the diabetic bandaging. The ulcers on both of my ankles are leak-free now, but I’ll miss them calling on me. I didn’t cry too much! Haha!
I started shelling the pod peas in preparation for the meal preparations. Quite a few of them got into the bowl, but many amazingly just jumped into my mouth. I can’t understand it. These lamb shanks are easy to cook in the bag. I later dropped the peas in the water to cook. On a low boil, they take only 30 minutes to cook this way. I then sorted the potato cubes from the Asda bag from the freezer. Remove the ones with any black spots on them. Which was about 25% in total. And got them cooking on a tray in the oven. After a while, Carer Sam arrived. Medicated me, and then I went to check on the now-burnt potatoes. I picked through them to remove the too-hard ones and those with the black spots I missed and got them in a dish to add later. What a feast! Thoroughly enjoyed it, apart from some of the burnt spuds being too hard for my shortage of teeth and the few remaining being in the sad, broken, painful state. It was almost, but not fully worth the pain afterwards from .
I had planned to get back on the blog, but fading eyesight and increasing tiredness forced me to stop everything and just sit down in 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. I turned on the TV and just fell asleep. It was heaven! Carer Chris came, and I cannot recall much of this visit. I think he… well, no, I don’t know. Later, Christopher called for a late visit, and I still slept. I can recall him taking off the one sock I had on. In the morning, I found it crumpled up on the ottoman. He must have put the catheter night bag on for me.
I continued to sleep without any problems. Having the longest-ever kip for months! I suppose I needed it? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Please try to be happy, Content, surrounded by magnanimity, Ousing with loveability & affinity, Wallow in moving mutuality, This sounds good to me! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Keep Safe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Steady Down Inchy! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not too bad! – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:25hrs: I begrudgingly heaved and hauled my overweight, blubbery body from the bed. I even thought of getting back in it as Cartilages Carole & Chloe kicked off the moment I put my colossal weight on the knees. I bent to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. The bag was a little fuller this morning, considering I’d only been in bed for about four hours. Yesterday’s not being a happy laddie lingering into today. There I was, sitting on the Throne, having a go at the crossword puzzle book, just seeing if I get some answers to the many not-finished ones over the months. I counted the cracks I could see on the ceiling. It amazes me how I seem to get a different number each time. And I suppose. 23 today. The first long, deep brown torpedo escaped painfully, followed immediately by splatterings from . The end loose evacuated product was once again of a Kharki hue, small and wet but lumpy. Well, it made a change for me. Haha! The were tackled next. Starting with the hurtful, bleeding-again teggies. Then, the extremities needed cleaning in preparation for the medicationings. These were done before the shaving this morning. Another first for me is that I’ve always done the shaving first, but not today. I’ve no idea why. One good thing about having the diabetic socks and the compression bandaging on both legs is that I can’t clean them, so one job is saved. Also, I do not need to medicate the leg ulcers or ingrowing toenails. Were Germoloided once things had dried from the washing of the bottie. I found that I’d run out of the anti-fungal cream for Little Inchies cream. So I tried some Germolene to see if that eased it a bit. It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things any worse, either. I got the Derma cream under the arms, man breasts and forehead, which was silly because I’d not done the shaving yet. Tsk! Then moved on and gave a good rubbing in of the Phorpain gel to both knees. To ease the pain from , and. Next, I got the olive oiling done down both earholes. Had a bit of an then. I dropped the dropper bottle and lost even more time cleaning the mess I made up. But worse, all the bending to retrieve the olive oil from the mat and floor, set the Cartilage gals, Arthur Itis and off. I then performed a short but natty, nasty version of a , which made me wobble and joined the list of injuries. And I hadn’t even tackled the dangerous parts of shaving and getting dressed yet! Still, being of excellent pain tolerance, a twerp, and so brave with it, it didn’t worry in the least, not one bit! But I assume you already knew that? Then , the costly Cataract Blepharitis application process had to be done. The spray is no bother, but the drops I just can’t hold my hands steady enough to get it in right. Doing the pads is okay. Then, I waited for the regulation for 5 minutes and wiped it all off again from the eyelids. I would estimate the cost of liquid I missed the eye with that ran down into my mouth and onto my testicles from my chin, not to mention poor Little Inchie; it must have been about £10 worth every day I do this. Now, the shaving needs to be done. I wondered how long I’d already spent doing the ablutions. I reckon I was already over two hours and still had to shave and dress. The shaving was cutless! Yes! But getting the PPs on more than made up for my good luck with the shaving. With either knee being liable to give way, my left leg is so painful to lift up. Always a risk and or possibility. On routine, I set about the tried, tested, but often failing ‘get-the-pants’. I wedged my rear end against the sink, with at hand, and of course, the small Plastic Pickerupper Paul. I was gobsmacked at how easily I got my right foot in the pants. Might not be so bad, I thought to myself… What a plonker! I all but went over when I first tried to lift the left leg up high enough to get the foot in the pants. On about my third attempt, I was getting frustrated, to say the least. Not necessarily because I couldn’t get the foot in; this is a regular problem, but with the pain I was going through trying to! I tried one last time and was prepared that the pants would stay off if this did not work! Which, of course, is not on if Little Inchies fungal Lesion bleeds, as it often does, hence the PPs in the first place; it could be bloody and embarrassing if a Carer or nurse was here when it flowed down my legs, over the catheter bag and pouch, onto my foot and then the carpet! There’s no other word for this; Lifting the leg with one hand holding the sink and the other with a picker-upperer and the walking stick was bloody painful! One final effort, a grimace, a few curses and both legs were in! I was shattered! Aching all over. I felt like I’d been up for hours; in reality, it was about three hours of angst and pain, but at last, it was all over… until the morning, it’ll start over again! Painkillers and some anti diarrhoea capsules were taken! I actually chirped up a little later, Yes! Then again, I usually do if get on the computer, and even more so when the eyes are as clear as they can be, and I can see the keyboard and the letters. But at the back of my demented brain, I know that come midday, the double vision will return. (It did)
Carer Richard arrived minutes after I turned on the computer. I patiently waited for CorelDraw to load up —no, that’s another fib. Richard got the medications sorted out, but I forgot to ask him to take of the diabetic sock, so it will have to stay on until tonight when a Carer can take it off if I remember to ask him or her. I bet it reeks a bit! I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bags into one. I left it near the door. I returned to the computer and steadily progressed with the extra blog of old cartoons blog. Then, a sudden… well, fear came over me. Had I left the hot water tap running again? I hobbled hastily to check. All was okay. After yesterday’s farcical, imbecilic three times of letting the tap run cold, my confidence was at a low ebb. I checked several times today, but up until now, I have not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. At least today, I got a wash and shave with hot water available. Despite spending nearly four hours in the wet room in agony, at least I got the cleaning and medicating done. I had a mammoth, or maybe it was one of . Or perhaps I fell asleep on the computer? Up to now, I’ve only had two !
The sun did its best to get through today, but it couldn’t do it just like yesterday. I took this shot through the kitchenette windows. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I never got around to making one earlier. I took the brew to my beloved but poorly computer and digested some of my favourite biscuits via a good dunking. Haha! I like Yeo Valley organic milk and have tried it a few times. As instructed by the Doctor, I’m keeping within her demands that I have only two mugs of tea a day.
Arrived. A nice young gal. Showed concern at my wobbly walking. I explained the ablution episode and showed her a photo of yesterday’s burnt meal and saucepan. She did laugh! I found some potatoes in the only saucepan I had left. Humph! They were well seasoned with sea salt, pungent soy sauce and a drop of vinegar to eat later.
Great balls of fire! The bag tore off of the catheter pouch; it was so full!!! It had filled up so quickly. It’s a darned good job that Carer Kara keeps a supply in stock for me.
Now I’ll have to pack up on the blogging. My vision is getting much worse. .
Back to finish off in the morning – I hope!
I’m back… Carer Chris arrived. Tucked into the nibbles and drinkies, but he was in a rush, poor lad. He turned down the heat on the oven. And I watched part of one episode of the old Heartbeat on the resistance to making a link, unwanted and needed, overpriced Virgin Media fibre TV.
I had a pastie, potatoes, and sliced fresh tomatoes for my meal of the day. Followed by a naughty but nice Lemon and cream Bliss.
I took this late shot while washing the pots and settled to get some sleep. It took me hours to nod off, yet my body and mind were worn out.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Today, I could have done without it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It had to happen, I suppose, but I woke up. In the state of mind & body as described above – feeling crap! Uninterested in even trying to sort out the state my mind was in. The overriding guilt within. The… Oh, I said all this above. I’m sorry about that. A little more urine in my nocturnal pouch this morning, and still a bit dark in colour with signs of blood in it. But it didn’t bother me at that moment; What did get to me was the message of gloom from my EQ. Things would not go right today. (As if I didn’t know this already! It’s the same every day here in the slammer for me. Even what should have been a joyful event the other day, in getting an appointment with the opticians, just had to have ifs, buts, maybes and uncertainties about it. Not to mention that it’s costing me nearly £100 for them to just come to the flat. How much is needed for eye testing is a secret as of yet. And the date was a fortnight later. A protem time and date were given to Carer Kara. I slowly rose from the world’s most uncomfortable bed, trod on the torch I must have knocked off the side table, and cursed mildly. This was followed by a realisation that a depression was brewing, and I tried to fight it off, all the same. Seeing the red bits in the sky, I fetched Kodak Tim to take some blotched pictures of the morning view. Had I not felt so low, I would have stood a while talking to the clouds… Yes, I talk to them and the trees, you know. Well, it’s a bit of company for me. But not this time, for the gurgling from within and the wind from the rear end was getting out, so and me wobbled along to the wet room. As I sat there, many of the usual ailments that didn’t seem too bad yesterday kicked off. Curiously, for only the second time ever, as I washed my body after the evacuation, I felt the dum-dumming of the mechanical Aorta valve beating away. At least It confirmed that I was alive, but I didn’t get too excited about it.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana. And got the computer going. And I instantly cheered up. (Not for long, of course, but there you are!) The eyes were far improved on their condition last night. Why remains a mystery. So, I committed myself to finishing yesterday’s blog before the sight faded. It was a great time for an hour or two, and happiness almost thought about the possibility of breaking out. Silly, I know! Carer Maryham arrived. I stopped computing, and she put on the diabetic sock for me. She handed me the medications, remembering to give me the Vit K one. Maryham had to dash off; she was busy this Friday morning.
I forgot about the blogging, so I sorted the waste bin bags into one and took them to the front door for collection.
I got the camera and took another sky view photograph. Blotches included, of course. The sun is having a job getting through again this morning. I could hardly believe it was July, with things being so cold and dark. Brrr! In fact, I was sneezing a bit. Back to the computer… it had to happen; it always does, every day. ! I was loading the snaps for Blotchy Kodak Tim, and the machine would not let me import the SD card content for some unknown reason. The feeling of doom and gloom returned just as Carer Joanne came in. She identified my frame of mind immediately and asked what the matter was. I think she regretted it because I told her. Hahaha! I kept her waiting a few minutes while I tried and failed to get the photos. Last night, as I closed it, I updated the MS on the computer. Mmm? Carer Christopher arrived. As he was sorting the medications, my super-new, old Nokia The phone went berserk with text messages coming in. After three, I got a recorded voicemail. They were all supposedly from Lloyds Bank. Chris listened to the recorded message and said it was a scam. These were followed by four more messages. I think they were all the same ones repeated, but not confident as I cannot see well enough to read them now that my eyes are failing again. I could not hear the recorded messages, but Chris confirmed after taking the mobile phone that they claimed to be from Lloyds Bank. Chris said the texts gave me a passcode to log on to my Lloyds account, which I do not have. But I panicked a bit. I wanted to delete them. I asked if Kara was in today, if she had not gone home yet, and if she might take a look at them. So, I didn’t delete them yet. There was a telephone number to ring for assistance. But I was wary enough to ignore it. Obviously, my finance helper Kara was not available. So, I’m in a state and a bit of a pickle. What next! I thought back to this morning’s awakening thoughts from my EQ. He was right again! Getting murky early tonight. Well, packing up, as the eyes seem to insist. But a little later on in the day today, which gives signs of hope, methinks. Going to get some nosh. Back in the morning… I hope. TTFNski…
I’M BACK… Two crisp fishcakes without any fish (don’t ask), six potato rostis burnt to perfection, and a can of peas and sweetcorn. A pot of orange jelly to follow. I ate it all up and had a bag of Frazzles.
The photo on the left was taken from the kitchenette window. Well, this came out different, didn’t it? Heaven knows what I did wrong. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The party is over, not that I was invited, With my mind & body so blighted, And struggling, being so poorly sighted, I got through another day – I’m delighted! Facing another, I expect it will be addlepatted! Hopes and plans to be thwarted, Accifauxpas ridden, unpremeditated, My computer crashed, problems unpropitiated, And it’s over 60 years since I mated! Huh!
My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning. I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit .
It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today. Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.
Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.
I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!
Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.
Here are cloud photos taken over the day.
I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.
We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?
I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google.
PN vs. MS vs. FND
Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy– Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness. People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others. Please read this, Doctor, Please! I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!
It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.
Morning: Catch up on this blog. A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’ I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in 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.
Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.
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.
Also, a lot of agony. The leg ulcer I burnt is giving out (or it’s coming from that area, at least) electric shocks every five minutes that seem to be shooting up the leg all through the day? The ankle gives way if I’m on the plates-of-meat at the time. Still, the nurse is calling tomorrow to have a check.
I was semi-pleased with the ablutions and Porcelain Throning this morning. Not happy mind, you. I couldn’t allow reports to get out about Inchy being happy. Scary! But movements were less painful. But cleaning up took a while.
The window cleaner came today. Nice lad!
I did the Ode from notes that I could barely decipher and found it hard to find suitable rhyming words. I got carried away and started a new Word List. This took me four hours. Tsk!
Carer’s Kara, Sham, Jenny and Christopher attended me. Kara helped me a lot; she checked the ankle and injury. Carer Sham came up with a name for the new ailment, the electric shocks from the ankle. ‘Electic Shocks Sherida,’ I will make a tab for it to use. I’ve done it. Which do you think is best? or .
Top to the left. Second ahead. Third to the right.
Then, an important job was done. I cleaned and refilled my biscuit pot with my favourites. Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets.
Now it’s time for some food; it’s getting late. I’ll turn off the computer and return in the morning—that’s the intention. Back in a bit, or later!
I’m back, it’s Friday morning. As I was serving up the meal, Carer Chris attended, I gave him his choice of drinkies from the fridge, and he took some nibbles home for his son with him. No diabetic socks to take off, of course. Or any to be put on this Friday until the nurse has been tending and checking the exploded ulcer and abscess. Chris helped me get the now-not-so-hot meal on the tray and left me noshing as he returned to the folds of his family.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I couldn’t see one of them! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I have never faced such difficulties in finding words to start an introduction for the blog before. In a way, I’ve been acting like Jeckle & Hyde and Steptoe & Son, struggling to communicate with myself. My moods were ever-changing, going into reverse modes and back again into sort of semi-contented ones. My fears would rise, and minutes later, nothing mattered. Then, I’d sink back into a self-pity mode again. It has to be a record for me today; I went into so many Mind-Blanks, or maybe they were what the doctor calls them, Non-Epilectic Seizures, I’ve ever had before. Accompanied by Memory blanks, some of them unbelievable, even to me. I had to keep checking what date it was; I forgot if a Carer had been or not. As for where the utilities needed were on CorelDraw, everything was taking me so long and still coming out wrongly. Even doing the graphics for this blog, I saved them all to different folders, and I spent hours trying to trace them, I ended up thinking it would be quicker to do them all again. Which was a big mistake; it wasn’t any quicker at all, the opposite, in fact! Up until around 19:00 hrs, the day seemed to reek of the absurd, bizarre, inexplicable, unexplainable, asinine, and undefinable. When I realised my cock-up with saving the files in the middle of trying to sort them out… CorelDraw Crashed! And all these farces to both legs being so painful, Cartilage Chloe in the left, and the ankle ulcer now pouring out liquid from when I dropped the oven tray on it, this was not a good day. After many trials and tribulations, I finally got around to doing my ablutions. Apart from not being able to stop the bleeding, shaving cuts (4). After completing the ablutions and medication duties, the only nasty bit was when I was trying to get the Protection Pants on. With both legs in a delicate situation, I lost my balance a few times and acquired some new bruises on the left leg, the cheek, and the right knuckles. But I didn’t go over; I hit the shower chair, door and sink instead.
Now, this does not explain how, but I got the dressing gown on and went back to the computer. I was at the stage of starting to write this intro. My mind was blank for a few minutes. Then it was as if I’d taken a wonder drug, and the mind seemed to clear. This (having read it now) I think it reads spot on as to what happened. Of course, things have been changing all day, so I hope to keep at it before the dark, dank depression develops. And another miracle, as of this time, the double vision had started earlier than this each day for a week or more, but not today. Not that I’m missing them… this may be a part of my sudden enlivenment? Or not. I do so wish the doctor would read my blog… maybe not, though. She might have me collected by the men in white coats. The only other thing that got to me was Kodak Tim blanks. I’ll explain this later in the blog. I don’t want to upset myself now I’m feeling better. Huh, did I speak again! The bloody leg and have just started! And they are really giving the damaged ulcer what for! Big mouth! Really struggling to walk now, See what I mean? Up& Down! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs: I sprang awake. In need of the Porcelain Throne. Emptied the catheter pouch and off to the wet room. Where was I flabbergasted to see blood in the bag? Seconds later, it soon returned to a normal dark colour. This baffled me. I’ll keep my eye on it. If it happens again, I’ll not mess about this time; I’ll call for an ambulance. There was no real problem with the evacuation, though. It was normal for Trotsky Terence. He’s back with a vengeance. Cleaning up took a while. Carer Maryham arrived and got me sorted out. Bless her. She was just finishing the extra shift she was called in for. I hope she can get some rest now after helping out. It’s been a blessing this week when she’s called. I was committed to finishing yesterday’s blog and made an early start. I’ve explained my situation. Things just got more messy as the day went on. Carer Joanne did the midday call. I like her—she’s straight-natured and not pushy. We sure do have some good laughs with language. Hehehe!
It was well into the afternoon before I completed the Saturday blog. I posted it and emailed the links. Took this snap of the view on offer. Kodak worked! After hours of preparing the graphics for today, I felt a little proud of how well I was doing, but then I found the mess I’d made when saving the files. I’d been working on a caveman graphic and was so glad this one wasn’t lost. I plan to do more on it and make a few changes. The teatime Caregiver arrived. I don’t know his name unless it was Israel. The eyes were beginning to fade a stage and offer double vision. Ah, yes, it was Israel! He’s grown a moustache! I took a snap of him, and later on, it was on the SD card! Then I took his BP. Resulting in: SYS 119-DIA 132-Pulse 69-Temp35.5°. A good one. ‘Give Me Sunshine’, and out came the sun! Kodak Tim seemed to have gotten over his tiff for the moment. However, the snaps still have the blotches. The sun was very high in the sky. (Where else would you expect to find it? Haha!)
One of the shaving cuts didn’t want to stop bleeding. I dolloped on some more of the Brute aftershave. It stung a bit, but it seems to have stopped now. At least I smelt a bit sweeter afterwards. Hehe!
Carer Richard arrived as I was about to sort the meal out. His back was playing up a bit. I put some drinks in the fridge for him in the morning, which was nice and cool for him.
Preparing the Meal… I removed the dodgy Asda potato cubes, and got the few left into the oven. Shelled the pod peas. I watched some TV, football, I think. Well, it was on when I fell asleep, and another match was on when I woke up. Luckily, I’d put the oven on too low a heat. So, nothing burnt. Shortcrust pastry pastie. (Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hahaha!), fresh pod peas, tomatoes and baked potato cubes. A Reet Treat!
I got the pots washed, and as I was doing so, I felt a warm, wet sensation in the lower regions; it was Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. I went to the wet room, washed, and applied the Daktarin. While there, I cleansed the skin and applied the new Barrier cream to the ginormously flabby, wobbly belly folds and underneath the armpits. I then needed to utilise the WC. What a flipping change this time! Trotsky was losing his dominance. It’ll be interesting on the morning visit. I decided against taking any anti-diarrhorea capsules. But did give both of the Cartilages and Arthur Itis knees a good rub-in Of the Phorpain™ Gel. My rear end was blessedly washed and medicated with the soothing Germoloids™ ointment.
Back to the computer to save everything to date, then put it in sleep mode.
Before climbing into bed… Yes, it’s not easy, but once in and adjusted, Sweet Morpheus is usually satisfied. The nocturnal catheter pouch was positioned, and then the regular frustrating routine began: Did I turn the taps (faucets) off? And close the fridge door? Turn off the cooker? Close the windows? Leave the lights on? I hate it when this doubting comes! I had no choice but to struggle out of the bed, get upright, carry the night pouch, get the walking stick, and do a mini-tour checking everything was safe and sound. Then, I struggled again to get into the bed! I reset the nocturnal catheter pouch, and as I settled again, I heard a noise from the kitchen – at least, I think it was from there. It must have been loud, else I would not have heard it! : I found that the washing-up bowl I dried after using had slipped off of the trolley I’d left it on. Hitting some spring water bottles on the floor, which had rolled around the kitchenette floor, with one of them bursting open! Arghhh! Naturally, to make more mess, it was only the bottle that was carbonated! So, I ended up retrieving the bottles and bowl and mopping the floor while carrying the Nocturnal catheter pouch, and the walking stick, gave way while I was doing this! My language was extremely volatile. It must have taken me two hours to get the kitchen back into a mock-acceptable state. My ingrowing toenails, knees, Harold’s Haemmorhoids, the ankle ulcer, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all hurting.
I did take this Kodak of the night view earlier but forgot to put it on. Sorry about that.
By the time I wearily got back to the bed; then I faced climbing into it again—I was tired out, frustrated, and in a self-hating mode. I decided not to attempt the bed again, and I was convinced something else was going to disturb me, I plopped my rhinoceros-like body into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. I’d left the small picker-upperer on the chair! I don’t need to tell you how painful it was or where it struck. On top of all the other ailments playing up after the workout in the kitchen. Once again, it was back to the medicine cabinet in the wet room. Cleaned the rear end up and applied some Daktacort this time. Back into the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Initially, prevented any thought of getting to sleep. This was probably due to the joy and ebullient nature that must have been in, after her success at making my life hell! Well, as miserable as she can.
