Thursday 11 February 2016

Well, what a start to the flipping day!

Stirred around 0245hrs in need of a visit to the porcelain, to find ‘Little Inchy’ had been bleeding away profusely. Made a mess all over me nightwear and the bathroom. Heck of a job slowing it down, couldn’t stop it fully. As I write this, his lesion is still leaking a bit.

I’m still suffering from the marathon 24 flights of stairs I had to climb yesterday to get back into the flat. As I thought about my condition, I made up a line or two of a song, to the tune of ‘Shaking All Over’.

I was pleased with coming up with this little ditty, went into the kitchen to make a cuppa and dropped the milk from the fridge all over myself and the floor! I really had got the shakes and aches this morning.Feeling the cold too, but that is to be expected with INR blood level so high again, making the blood too thin. I reckon that is why Little Inchy is bleeding so much?

Feeling the cold too, but that is to be expected with the INR blood level so high again, making the blood too thin. I reckon that is why Little Inchy is bleeding so much?

Cleaned up the spilt milk. That should prompt a metaphor, but I can’t think of one. Huh!

I nipped out to check the lifts; they were not working. I thought I heard some noises from within them, so assumed the engineers were still working to repair them?

Got back to the kitchen and made another cuppa, carefully. Took my medications.

With all the hassle I’d had this morning, it was two hours after I had got up before I got settled on the laptop.

I’m not looking forward to climbing down those stairs again. I did say I’d see Brother-in-law Pete to sort his laptop out, but I’ll have to give it a miss I think, go tomorrow when the lifts are going again.

The torn muscle, the reflux valve and having to clean Little Inchy are a hassle, at the moment.

Had a start at doing a birthday greeting to go on Facebook for Frankie Jordon, fellow blogger and jolly good egg.

All

the best

Frankie!

Have

one

great

brilliant

Birthday!

Cheers!

I then made another cup of tea and started doing some Facebooking.

Spur of the moment thing here. Due to my thinking how much easier the leg was today, I decided to have a run out to Arnold and get some bits of nosh in.

I enjoyed a quick bath and got out to catch the bus. The lifts were working now.

Had a wander around Asda, taking my time so as to judge the timing to catch the last L9 bus that would take me back to the flats.

The leg was still hurting, but I reckon it was less so than yesterday.

I got more stuff than I planned, so struggled to the bus stop. When I arrived, I noticed the seating bench next to the bus-stop, took a photo of it. 

Apart from the missing slats of wood, those left were infested with lice, worms or insects of some kind.

I wasn’t tempted to have a sit on it. Hehe!

At the bus-stop, there were several folk awaiting. Three of the gals were discussing the cloud formations and one was asking if the others could see what they looked like, and giggling enthusiastically among themselves?

I looked but could not identify what was causing the humour?

So I took a photo of where they were pointing and looking.

Can any of you see what amused them please?

Caught the bus, and Jean from flat 43 got on the bus. I bet you’re impressed that I knew/remembered her name and flat number?

Fair enough, I didn’t, she told me on the bus, and I wrote it down on my bus schedule. She was talking about her books, Sky television and DVDs. I mentioned I had some DVDs she could have and asked her which flat she was in, so I could take them to her tomorrow.

The leg started to get worse again, and the reflux valve was sticking a bit again, sticking in the open position, this time, I’m afraid. So embarrassingly I sat there with uncontrollable noisy sharp bursts of wind coming up all the journey. The looks I got from the other passengers prompted me to tell Jean, in between the bursts of wind of the reflux problems.

By the time we arrived back at the flats, the valve was working again. We poddled up the lift, Jean dropping off on the 4th floor I think.

I gave her some nibbles, said my cheerios and continued to the 12th floor, got in and consulted the timetable I’d written Jeans details on and realised I’d only written a ‘3’ as her flat number. But I’m sure it should have been 43. I’ll find out tomorrow when I drop off the DVDs.

I put away my purchases.

The Rankin Wholemeal Irish Soda Bread was only £1 today at Asda.

Excellent when toasted with lashings of naughty butter and seedless Blackcurrant jam on them.

Of course, I don’t eat butter, but rather the more healthy tasteless lard-like tasting health things, ProActive and Flora.

 

A call to the porcelain was received from the innards. I found Little Inchy had at last stopped bleeding after I cleaned him up from the matted condition the poor chap was in. No bleeding from the piles either! Good that, as I expected more bother with the INR level being so high. Crossed fingers.

I set about getting the dinner ready.

Chestnut mushrooms, green beans, garden peas, boiled potatoes, potato cakes, beetroot, lettuce, and tomatoes (that I didn’t eat, I’d forgotten how foul they tasted).

Toasted some soda bread slices, two with Marmite on them, and two with Blackcurrant jam.

I didn’t eat it all, about two-thirds I’d think. Eyes bigger than the belly again?

Washed the pots up and fell well drained into me 1967 built armchair. Feet up on the little storage box thing, TV and headphones on, medications taken…

Drifted off to sleep within minutes.

Woke again an hour later, Brother-in-law Pete had rung me to tell me I could see the Space-Station in the sky in eight minutes.

I thanked him and fell asleep again.

Eight minutes later Sister Jane rang me to tell me it was in view now!

So I painfully encouraged the knees and legs to get me into the kitchen.

Sure enough, I saw it, a yellowish spot in the night sky – it moved very quickly upwards and out of view.

Got another call to the porcelain – Little Inchy in another right state matted and needed de-blooding and cleaning.

When I had finished and walked back into the living room, Arthur Itis made himself known in no uncertain terms. Now, if he carries on like this, same time as the torn muscle, I could find myself struggling a bit.

The twinges from the knees and right leg managed to keep waking up repeatedly throughout the rest of the night. I gave up around 0300hrs and made a cuppa and got the laptop on.

Tsk!