04:55hrs: After an often-broken sleep caused by dear , I still got about 5 hours of sleep in bits, so that wasn’t too bad; I woke most unenthusiastically. I pondered over things as I sat there on the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, not fully aware of things, trying to figure out why I felt like this. I put it down to my having woken up with an activating seizure. My confusion started to clear after a few minutes. But I still felt a little off-kilter, mentally. Voids in my memory, despite believing I had been dreaming, there were no indications of what of. Annoying that, innit? I eventually, gingerly rose from the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, creaking, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and caught my balance. I took off the Nocturnal Catheter pouch to free myself to start the short mini-exercises… Well, that was the plan.
Within seconds of starting the stretching, I was on the floor, with a decent bruise on the forehead gained on my way down to the carpet. I still have no idea where or what I hit my head against. It all seemed to occur so quickly. Getting back up was as easy as it could have been, with me landing next to the recliner. Obviously, it was painful clawing my massive, flabby body back up into the recliner. Sensing that this was much more painful than usual, I considered pressing the Help Line Alarm. As my head cleared again, there was no blood at all coming from the wound, just hardly seeable scratch and bruise. I went into my Sherlockian Mode and realised why it hurt me so much, and I found the cause of the original tumble! Yes!
Had given way. I feel sure! After a few moments. The head bump was painless and only was hurting… until a minute later, when Took over as the ‘Head Ailment’. Confusion Konrad remained. And I’m not sure all this is in order of happening now. I forgot all about doing the balance routine after that.
I’m not sure why, but I thought a mug of tea would be a good idea or of any benefit. But I made one and adjusted the old-fashioned clock-calendar. I nipped to photograph the morning view from the kitchenette window. Misty and cold out there again. This snap came out all right. But I thought when taking it I saw a planet, albeit a tiny one, on the top left. No signs of it?
Carer Selina arrived. She noticed the bruise on my head. I made her laugh, telling her how it happened. Haha!
Back to my blogging. In ten minutes, I had five short visits . Then, nothing for an hour or so. And back she came, I had to give up, for fear of making so many mistakes that I didn’t realise then and losing hours of precious time to correct them. Humph!
I got pm Word to write the day’s Ode.
Came back on again. I had to give up again. I will sit down and wait it out, hoping it will not be another long one. They seem to tire me out.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Shasha is one of Tim Price’s
Colony of Cats. Bootiful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Made a meal and settled the football game.
There were two FA Cup matches to watch, and I did not move out of the recliner for hours and hours. I took this in a break between games. The first one was Plymouth Argyle beating Liverpool!
Made the nosh and settled down to see the second match. Aston Villa v Tottenham Hotspurs.
Then I realised that Quatermass & The Pit film was showing on the same channel after the footy. 1967 FILM NOIR They don’t make them like this anymore!. From 1953 to 1967, They made three Quatermass treats. The first one was made for a TV series. But, 40% of the original tapes have since been lost by the BBC. There are DVDs, but they have a lot of missing action. But I loved them them all. The TV one was poorly scripted, badly acted, and as for ‘Rocket Ship’ landing in the house’s bedroom, without destroying it… well, it was part of the fun and mystery. This was given the title, The Quatermass Experiment. The film concerns three astronauts launched into space aboard a single-stage-to-orbit rocket designed by Professor Quatermass. A TV series. Then (1953) QUATERMASS II film. Strange metallic meteorites rain down over Winnerden Flats, an eerie new town near a strongly guarded chemical plant. Professor Quatermass discovers that contact with the meteorites causes an unusual infection. He is also astonished that the chemical plant is modelled after his design for a moonbase, where life can thrive in an artificial atmosphere. Investigations uncover a conspiracy that extends from the Government level to the zombie-like workers who will stop at nothing to protect the plant. Quatermass deduces that aliens from one of the moons of Saturn travel to Earth in the meteorites, possess human minds, and share knowledge through a collective consciousness. I loved it! Especially with Sid James getting killed in the pub on Winnerton Flats. Ah, Memories!
. The last photo was taken as I looked around to ensure I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have. All looks good!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m off to bed now!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got about four hours’ worth of Kip! Great!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’s ODE When an ankle-snapper, my questions got cupboarded, Always complicated; the house was candlelighted, We had gas: non-payment meant this was sequestered, Things didn’t bother me then; life was uncomplicated, Even when Mother ran away to avoid being arrested, To head cook, washer and cleaner, I superseded, Dad got me part-time jobs – as if they were needed! On weekday mornings, I made sure Dad was breakfasted, Then rush to school to be bullied & headbutted, From school to do the paper round hurried, Back home to get Dad’s meal, the fire prepared, Happy days… to me, this felt normalised, Of course, not knowing when I get octogenarianised, That I’d physically & mentally get disableised, Or be flat-bound, high in a High Rise, Or the Pensioner’s fuel allowance would be shanghaied! Or the end of the world would be visualised, Nor would I consider getting myself schnockered. Or stuffed with Morphine & Beta-Blockered, The line above would not have been included, If Starmer & Dementia hadn’t obtruded!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sunday morning: I stirred, for the first morning for five days on the trot… without the grating cough greeting me. Boy, this was a good moment. Finally, the ‘bug’ was weakening and letting me know this. No adoption of any . Too cautious for that.
I’d just had a night’s sleep of over six hours duration, and it was grand! I removed the nocturnal night pouch and sat there pondering and getting myself uptight at the many things I could not rectify. The Banking details, the medication shortages, etc.
When joined in, I heard, or thought I heard an alarm of some sort. I went on the hunt to try and find what it was that had sounded. The Alert Alarm? No! The Intercom? No! The Water Tap Leak alarm? No! A Text Message? No! The electricity panel showed no lights. Ah, was it the door chime? Nope! This made me think it may have been the Foyer Intercom, so I looked out the door, and nothing was there. Had I ing that I’d forgotten about?
It’s time to turn on the computer and take a look. There was nothing on it for today. I did note that I’d put the Iceland order on the wrong day for next week. I corrected it (I hope) after going to Iceland to confirm the difference first.
Carer Selina came in without ringing the buzzer, fritted me as she stood behind me, and greeted me with a cheery face. Hahaha!
She confirmed the colour grading on the NHS chart as a 7, but I put it down as a five in the Excel graphic for some reason. Then she got a pair of diabetic socks fitted, and I asked her if she’d seen my laundry anywhere. It had been three days. She skipped down to take a look and returned with the laundry bag. Bless her. She issued the medications and had to rush off.
When I put the things away, I found smears of fluff growing from the laundry room floor over the dressing. It’s not unusual. All the socks were there this time, and there were no extras, unlike when I had gained a bra and a pair of ladies’ knickers.
I got onto WordPress to start on this blog. And what a disaster the first two paragraphs were! I could barely understand what it was I’d been trying to say! Ultimately, I gave up and deleted it, starting from scratch.
Carer Simon arrived for the midday slot. I took the opportunity to mention the laundry. The problem was finding out where my bank passwords were. I pointed out that I was not complaining; I just wanted to know they were in hand. I also explained the medication shortages in detail. Simon said he’d try to find out for me on Monday and look into the medications’ situation to try and get me some clarity. Thank you.
Back to WordPressing. I replied to the comments of my hoard of followers. All three are friendly people. Then I went on the Blog Reader viewing.
Carer Richard made the last call. I was having my very first long seizure of the day at the time. Nothing to report from a blank, vague memory. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Somethings coming… I know not what… The Grim Reaper with his chariot? What will be lost, found, mistaken or misbegot? May I choke on medications or chocolate? My Glaucoma op arrived? That’d be a shock, Mayhap never another seizure or mental block? A Bhagat just may be begat or wot? Politicians may do things without a subplot? No, that’s asking too much, what? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – REMEMBERING Do You… Remember the comfort & luxury of home life as a nipper? The Kodak Brownie box camera? The black & white photo booths all over? Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa? Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower? Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder? Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular? Or even more appealing was Rita, who was far more cuddlier,
I desired her so (sob) but never got a date with her! Remember the 1955 number-one hit. ‘Let me go, lover’? Sang by sexpot Teresa Brewer? She wisely didn’t answer my letter! Recall the Ration Book, weekly; bacon and ham 4oz; 4oz of butter, loose tea 4oz; sugar 8oz; meat one shilling-worth; cheese 1oz; preserves 8oz a month! Then biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk, canned and dried fruit joined the list. Babies, pregnant women and the sick were allocated additional food items such as milk, orange juice and cod liver oil. Domestic coal was rationed to 15 hundredweight yearly in London and 20 hundredweight for those in the north. Clothing was rationed using a point system. This allowed for approximately one new outfit per year but was reduced steadily until buying a coat used up almost a year’s supply of clothing points. Clothing became utilitarian: pleats and turn-ups disappeared from trousers, and garments were plain. Women painted gravy browning on bare legs to replace silk stockings and painted black lines at the back to simulate the seams! Food rationing worsened after the war due to the country’s badly damaged economy. Bread rationing began for the first time in late 1946; the bacon ration halved in October, and potatoes were rationed in November. The Standing Committee on Medical and Nutritional Problems was concerned about those who had to live on their rations and lacked access to canteen or restaurant meals. The Ministry of Health decided to help with assistance with shopping, cooking and providing meals on wheels. Rationing ceased in May 1954,
During & after the war, Spivs, black-marketeers Galore,
Nottingham prosecuted 2,400, elsewhere more! Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir? The coal house, the yard gate, and more? The wooden lid? Bum splinters that were sore? The discomfort of a freezing winter? No toilet paper, but cut-up newspaper? The cistern would freeze after December? Lighting a candle or lamp, you had to remember! No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser. Unaffordable for the Inchy geezer. The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer? Boiling water on the stove and on the coal fire? Getting mine last was a bit of a harrumpher… Cleaning out the other’s dirt, scurf & seborrhea! DC electric shocks, with a ‘let-go” threshold high? Compared to AC, is it likely to knock you over or fly? But more people getting AC shocks die. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t keep much of a diary today. I spent so long trying to find pictures for my Memory Ode, but I didn’t have a camera this morning, so I had to use something from the file or web.
I returned to this facsimile of life at 05:15hrs. Got the scrub-up and shaving done. Then ablutions & medicationings were completed. Trotsky Terence Porcelain’s visit was made without any premature evacuational movements. Phew!
I started the ode, and seven hours later, I finished it. (I’m not joking; my concentration was all over the place.) However, the ailment has been fair to me up to now. I’m not able to say that very often! Although the struggle with getting the right pictures from the web and files may have been part of the problem, it seems to have appeased some of my ailments?
During the Ode workings, Carer Chris visited me, and then Carer Joanne visited again. We had a little natter and a laugh about our current problems.
Between this activity, I put one large potato in the slow cooker. I walked into the wet room door, another should-charge job; was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off and , but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having! As for the past 4 or 5 days, is still on form. I forgot to ring the Doctor about asking for some under-tongue dissolving medication, but it’s too late in the day now, and of course, with the weekend coming, I can’t do anything about it. Not until Monday, when most likely the only thing I’ll do is forget to make the call again. Huh! Nowadays,life continues like this; Never-ending returning circles, tangents and variations of failures, errors, forgetfulness, mysterious episodes of utter confusion (unrecognised seizures possibly?), with rare but precious dabblets of contentment, verging on happiness. The feared visits of unreasonable sadness, self-anger, & self-disgust, almost a loathing sometimes. But not yet today. This may be why I just flooded out my feelings. Is it as if I’ve only just realised what is going on?
Yet help & solutions are elusive.
Even talking to myself (I do an awful lot of that), my queries, questions and even my own answers or decisions I know are evasive, not logical or practical. Conceivably inenarrable. Confidentless and doomed not to be done and to fail even if they are attempted. Taking all the things I’ve just written & read above, I now see with clarity one word that I’d missed. Bonkersness! What a load of talking nineteen to the dozen, prattling, gabbling twaddle! I’ve lost it! Hehehe! If anyone can understand it, please let me know.
I’m going to check on the potatoes now…
No, not ready yet. I hope the Carer doesn’t call while I’m eating. The spuds will get cold, and the potato skin will go hard and hurt my teggies. Hehe!
Well, the potato skins went hard and hurt my teggies. Not considering the pain from the gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted. I settled with the TV on, and at my first bite of a pickled mushroom, Carer Chris arrived—not that it spoiled the meal in any way. I cooked the lad a chicken pattie in the microwave; it only took two minutes, and he scoffed it down with a drink of lemonade. Well, he was tired and hungry. Hehe! Help with the camera loan was much appreciated. The poorly-poo Kodak will be examined on his days off. Fingers Crossed!
Sleep came so quickly. But thanks to the occasional jerking from , I seemed to be shooting awake every few minutes – it probably wasn’t that often, but it felt like it was in the morning. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hasta la vista!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A STAB AT STARMER? He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised. When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.
I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on. Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe! I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the . So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony! Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers. They were becoming a bit itchy, too. As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.
No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead. The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.
It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!
I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.
Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;
First sighting as I put the kettle on. Is it a fire or not… No Fire Brigade response yet. Still no brigade. Is it looking worse? No response. It’s dying down a bit, I think.
Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.
I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99. And blow me, the fire was smoking again. I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there. I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!
I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website. Very regrettably, I clicked the link…
ARGH! I WAS HACKED! The computer went to full screen and froze!
The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.
Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’
They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now! Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again! Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?
I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.
Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.
It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did! Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with. I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone. Then, they went above and beyond… They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that. Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back!
It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.
It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!
It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before. Maybe never any.
I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.
A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her. Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Inchy: Why do you mention I’m depressed? Grim: You are obviously out of it detracted! Inchy: Detracted? No, but I am dim-witted, Grim: Delipidated, & diabetically demented, Inchy: Well, to a small degree, I do feel dejected, Grim: And discriminated, against, disenchanted? Inchy: Well, possibly disjointed & dislocated, Grim: You’re feeling undiagnosed, disregarded? Inchy: How do you know all this? I’m dumbfounded, Grim: You look & sound like an eggheaded plod! Inchy: You’re saying I’m dunderheaded? Grim: Yes, & downcast, discontented, disoriented, mentally dissected, & obviously diapered, Inchy: Hang on… am I or not being Grim Reapered, Grim: You’re on the waiting list, position 623rd! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0315hrs: I sprang awake more slowly today. A certain reluctance lingered as I noted what the time was. I tried to get back to sleep, but it was impossible. I removed the overnight Catheter Pouch. Cartilage Carole did not bother me as I tried to rise, but Cartilage Chloe had it for me. By the time I’d carried the nocturnal bag to the WC for emptying, she had given way twice. No falls or tumbles, though. I emptied the pouch and wrapped it up. Then I had a search for the reading spectacles lost yesterday, in I thought, the wet room. Talk about reversals; after days of Trotsky Terence in charge, Constipation Conrad was back in charge. After a determined and painfully encouraging, pushing session, I gave up any hopes of achieving evacuationing.
With figuratively crossed fingers, I put the computer on and started to upload and save the photos for yesterday’s post updating. One went okay this time.
Within ten minutes, I needed to visit the Porcelain, hoping that this time Constipation Conrad had eased off enough for me to evacuate. Off I trundled to the wet room. After I bought more toilet rolls to counter Trotsky Terence, Conrad Constipation returned with a vengeance!
It may have only been a few minutes to force things along. Painfully! It was more like the shape of the H-Bomb, Little Boy. I needed another couple of minutes to recover from the effort! Hehe! I can laugh now! On the bright side, cleaning up after the evacuation was easy.
I poddled back to the computer. After four more hours, around 0800hrs, I realised the Carer had not arrived yet. And it showed the outside temperature at -3°c when I first put the computer on. It’s showing 0°c now. Still too cold not to have my socks on. Brrr! I will make a mug of tea to help warm me up, then put a quilt over me when I return to the computer. They can leave off the midday call now; no point in medications. I have to leave 4 hours between each tablet and medicine taking. 08:10hrs now.
0905hrs: Carer Christopher came as I took photos of the cold-looking morning views. First, Chris got the medications issued. He remembered to put on the diabetic socks for me, and after I reminded him, the Friday fitting of a fresh day pouch was carried out. Hehe! We chatted, and he nibbled on the treats throughout. Haha!
The lad did a decent job fitting the day catheter. The socks are now keeping me warm, and I feel a warm sensation that things could turn for the better now.
Why? A Good questions.
Answer: I’ve no idea.
But it could be because I got help yesterday from outsiders. DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse Christina, Catheter bags ordering. Matron Julie, with the BP and health checks, and Anne Gyna were not playing up so much.
Here are the photographs taken just before Carer Chris arrived. I’ll change that. Here is the picture taken just before Carer Chris arrived. The Kodak sent the other one taken into the ether. Humph!
I went to the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running. I’m doing this too often lately, and it gets me mad at myself… feeling guilty and depressed. But not this morning. I came out and went to put the kettle on and found the missing pair of long-range glasses sitting on top of the mini oven. This cheered me considerably, and I took the spectacles to the junk room, where I cleaned them, finding out… . I must have put them on there and then cooked the sausages for half an hour… the frames are now warped! I didn’t cry, but it was a close thing. But it doesn’t bother me.
Frustrated, I made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. And raided my biscuit box. I wish I hadn’t now. The first dunk in the tea with one of the large LU cookies and the biscuit crumbled and fell in the mug, splashing the old-fashioned clock/calendar, cabinet me, and the notepad. Humph!
I was peed off with myself again. I carried on with the blog and finished yesterday’s work. A text message told me the food order would arrive between 1100 & 1200hrs. So I got some boxes and carriers near the door to use when the delivery arrives. I took the large waste bag to the chute without walking into anything or finger-trapping.
I looked at Cavendish Vale houses to see if the loft drug growers were at it again. Looks like it to me. Do you see the roofs that were defrosted earlier than others? That looks suspicious to me. And there were two police cars and a van on it yesterday evening. I went into a Sherlock Holmesian mode then. Sorry about that. Hahaha!
Around 1400 hrs, the Mini-Seizures, the kindest they have ever been since she moved in with Peripheral Pete and Nicodemus’s Dying Neurotransmitters, started making a belated charge and engaged her attack mode. During this, Carer Joanne called, and we started sharing jokes and events; it was like having medicine. I was almost entirely with it suddenly. No sooner than Joanne departed the flat, then began again, and stayed with me a long time. Everything went hazy. They were extremely short events, but was that a good thing? It seemed I could not get anything right on this block. Each time I came out of one, I had to check everything I’d done and correct it. Also, this is the first time I’ve gone back into a mini seizure so quickly, and on one occasion that I recall, I was putting things right and went off again. What the… I nearly swore then; heck is going on. And this morning, she was all but absent? The nurse thinks they are a part of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. I searched the web to see if I could find anyone who suffers from it and found anything to counter it. I only got as far as this bit that I’ve copied on neurotransmitters.
Here are some key facts about neurotransmitters, which are chemical messengers in the body & brain. Their function is to transmit signals from nerve cells to target cells. These signals help regulate bodily functions ranging from heart rate to appetite. Neurotransmitters are part of the nervous system. Neurotransmitters are released from the end of an axon into the synapse, where they travel across to receptors on the next neuron. The neurotransmitters fit into the receptors like keys into locks.How they influence neuronsNeurotransmitters can influence neurons in three ways: excitatory, inhibitory, or modulatory. Excitatory neurotransmitters promote action potential signalling, while inhibitory ones prevent it. Examples of neurotransmitters Serotonin is an inhibitory neurotransmitter that helps regulate mood, behaviour, sleep, and memory. Epinephrine, or adrenaline, is an excitatory neurotransmitter that stimulates the central nervous system. (Hence Shaking Shaun? Shaking Shoulder Shirley & Twitching Neck Nigel?) Abnormal levels of neurotransmitters can lead to dysregulation of brain functions and various diseases. Examples of Disorders Associated With Defects in Neurotransmission Autism, Anxiety, Autism spectrum disorders, Brain injury, Depression, Seizure disorders, Neuroleptic malignant syndrome, Pain, Parkinsonism, Parkinson disease, Schizophrenia, Tardive dyskinesia, Myasthenia gravis, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Episodic ataxias (that’ll be Seizure Sanda?), Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis, Hypokalemic periodic paralysis, paramyotonia congenita, Rasmussen encephalitis, & Organophosphates.
I was going to go on to check Peripheral Neuropathy and my other ailment, but after reading this about my dying neurotransmitters… what’s the point? It all baffles me. With so many things connected, it’s not surprising that the clinic gave this answer when I asked years ago, What is the treatment? “There is none; no one can save a dying nerve end”. Of course, as I knew, it was slowly getting worse, and I was getting more depressed with it all.
I just had to force myself to check on the first Peripheral Neuropathy explanation that came on my search. PN: Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that can cause a variety of symptoms, including:
Numbness, tingling, or prickling: (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
These sensations can start in your hands or feet and spread up your arms and legs.
Pain: You might experience sharp, burning, throbbing pain or pain during activities that shouldn’t cause pain. (Yes, that’s me!
You might experience muscle weakness or loss of muscle tone. (Yes, I’ve got them)
Loss of balance: You might experience difficulty coordinating or falling. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Changes in sensation: You might not feel temperature changes or pain. (Spot on again!)
Other symptoms: You might experience cramping, muscle twitching, changes in skin, hair, or nails, or emotional disturbances. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Autonomic changes: You might experience heat or cold intolerance. Or related problems.
Problems with blood pressure, bowel or bladder control, or swallowing. (Yes, I’ve got all of them) In fact, the DVT Warfarin INR level is dropping again, and they are going to send me some Enoxaparin injections to go in the stomach three times a day on both sides. I’m looking forward to injecting myself, if not needed to, for over a year now. No problem, really… apart from the pain. Which is something I’ve learnt to live with… Live? Me? Cope with, is a more accurate statement.
To add to possible concerns, there’s Metal Micky in my ticker. Toothache Tiffiny, Bad Hearing Boris, Gladys Glaucoma, Catheter Cathy’s Contraption, Diabetes2, FND, Colin Cramps, a daily Porcelain Throne Visits with a choice of Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad (it’s always one or the over, never normal), Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Deakness, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Arthur Itis & Cartilage Damage in both knees, Little Inches fungal lesion bleeding, Mind-Blanks, Short Term Memory Problems, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s Leg Dances & Right Arm Hitler Salutes, both involuntary, Back-Pain-Brenda, Onychovryptosis (ingrowing toenail), Earaches Erasmus, and Eczema & Acne. I may have missed a few. Hehehe!
Do you know, the chinwag & laugh with Joanne, then the nurse, had was a reet treat.
The later seizures seem to be a little different. Gar more shaking from the right arm & leg. More persistent with it as well. My head was involuntarily bent down and forward on each of the last four episodes. I’d be lost if I didn’t have at least one new ailment or quirk to worry about daily. The shock could be fatal. Haha!
Daily FodderCheesy cobs & tomatoes were lovely. As was the pickled mushrooms, red cabbage & onions. The pork pie & potatoes were not so good. Ah, well, can’t win ’em all!
I suddenly felt weary and tired. Almost instantly, after turning off the computer, Carer Christopher arrived, removed my socks, and medicated me. He covered me with a quilt after putting on my night catheter pouch; bless him. He knew I would not make it into the hospital bed tonight, and he was right!
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