Monday 24th April 2017
Malay: Isnin April 24, 2017
Woke, shaking a bit, and no memories of any dreams again. Duodenal Donald on form still. Out of the £300 second-hand recliner and off for a wee-wee – Little Inchy
Feelings of low-esteem still with me.
I got dressed and took the laundry down and got it going in the only washing machine of the two that was available this morning.
I think the other one conked out on Thursday or Friday?
Then, back up to the apartment and started the diaries on the computer.
Down and moved the things into the dryer, once more up to the flat.
Finished yesterday’s post. Did some WordPress reading. Duodenal Donald was getting worse, took the medications with many swigs of the medicine and an extra 30g Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications.
Down to collect the washing.
Taking a bag of rubbish made up from bits from all the three bins, that it is far too early to throw down the chute, to leave near the caretaker’s door outside.
Took this quick photographicalisation.
Wiped the dryer and around, cleaned the filter and made my way up to the flat.
Had a visit from Dizzy Dennis.
Put the clobber away, things to use next time in the bag and got the kettle on.
Did the Health Checks while waiting.
Updated this post to here.
0435hrs: Gives me plenty of time to do some Facebooking before I have to prepare for the visit to the surgery for the INR Blood Level Test. Got carried away there – Three hours!
Put some nibbles in the bag for the nurse and staff, and got the medicationalising and ablutions done. By the time I’d freshened various parts up and dressed, I had to get a move on so as not to be late for the INR test.
Two resident ladies near the laundry room door in the foyer as I went out, managed a “Good Morning” and a smile to each of them. Olive and Betty I think.
Hobbled down Winchester Street, not a bad morning, nice and fresh, a bit of drizzle occasionally. Left up the hill to the crest, and down into Carrington.
Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were joined by Roger Reflux in giving me some hassle as I walked down the slope to the surgery… the I had to stop because Dennis Dizzy added his halfpennyworth.
This could be a nocive ridden day, I thought?
Dizzy Dennis disappeared (A bit of a mouthful there, sorry) as I entered the surgery waiting room. Booked in and sat down and got the crossword book out. The receptionist called me over, which Arthur Itis was pleased with I hobbled to the desk. She handed me a thick filled envelope. Hello hello, I whispered silently to myself.
It was regarding the request I made six weeks or so ago for the I.D. needs for the bank transfer from the Doctor.
Several notes to and from people hand written in specialist Doctors style.
The last one, Action Pending I could read:
Mr Chambers: Unfortunately Dr Vindla said she cannot do this letter for you.
Fair enough that, at least they let me know. With my luck being as it is I didn’t get any hopes up anyway. Sad innit? Also sorry that Dr Vindla is still off poorly, I wanted to ask what she was off with but didn’t have the nerve to.
The phlebotomist Nurse, Yvonne fetched me in. Did the blood and it was at this point, as I took off the coat, I realised that earlier, I must have put the new trousers in the wash and put the old ones back on again, cause they were there hanging for grim life around my midriff. Tsk!
She patiently but quickly had a look at the Health Checklist I’m printed out and decided that the Sys was far too high and made a note on the computer for the Doctor (The Locum?). And when I have my appointment with him/her on Thursday, I’ve to mention it.
She then pointed out when I asked her if I was doing the temperature correctly, that I wasn’t. Fancy that! I should set a timer for one minute then make contact with the skin under the arm and wait for this timer to run out. Evidently, the thermometer thingymabob pips or beeps three times, when it is done. But of course being hard of hearing I cannot hear it, this is why she suggested using the timer. Good isn’t she! Oh, and I have to wait after turning it on, until the LO shows up before applying it to the skin, easy when someone tells yer! Hehe! From here on, I should get the correct readings I hope. Tsk!
Told her about the depressions and anxiety attacks and she gave me a leaflet/card with some contact numbers on to use if I liked.
Telephone numbers not very much use of course, but she said there are email addresses I can use too. In an effort to start a self-introductory session.
They are being run by the Nottingham City Clinical Commissioning Group it seems. I will be permitted to contact any one of the three numbers on the card. I’ll have a look at each website later. (Got around to this the following day, Tsk!)
Thanked her and gave her the nibbles.
Outside, the rain had stopped completely now, and down through Carrington to the Lidl store. Meandered around finally selecting some English Piccolo Tomatoes, Iced Lollies to replace the ones I left out of the freezer (Huh), plain greek yoghourt, two cheese-topped rolls and some of that they now call Hippopotaspuds!
Here they are in the saucepan later, awaiting water and cooking. Years ago I got some of these from Morrison’s, but they are not available much nowadays. They used to call them Apache Potatoes then. I think I enjoyed them a lot.
Caught a bus back into Sherwood, the feet were aching now.
Called in the Wilko store to get some more of the Oust kettle descaler packs that I found splendid and efficient, (And cheap there too at £1 for a pack of two, £1.60 at Morrison’s) ready for next time I need them – assuming I don’t croak-out first like, of course.
Also got some cheap kitchen towels, spectacle lens cleaners, a bottle of bleach and some freshness booster.
Out and up the hill to the bus stop. Several other tenants waiting also. Had a chinwag and laughed with them.
Caught the bus and we were all soon squashed in the lift going up. Mabel to floor eight, and the other three of us all to level twelve.
Got in and got the small Hippopotaspuds on a low light, and put the other things away.
Into the wetroom and made use of the Porcelain Throne… well I thought I was going to make use of the Porcelain Throne.
Much wind and rumbling, but no activity. I read the book for a while in hopes that things would start moving… and fell asleep!
There followed a dream that seemed so real, I nearly cried when I woke up to find it wasn’t. Taken from the notes I’d written after the dream, on the toilet paper. Haha!
I was nipper again, walking through the street in the Nottingham Meadows.
Suppose it must have been around 1950. It seemed so real and natural to me that I floated, almost flew a few inches from the roadway and didn’t actually walk…
This photograph in sepia I have found in my files is of one of the roads I was floating through. It was Allport Street off Waterway Street… As I recall?
I don’t think any of the other lads and lasses knew I was there, or they could not see me?
There was a boy I used to pal up with who lived on Blackstone Street back then, who caught polio and passed away; And there he was playing in his back yard with whip and top with his pet dog, Rex. I landed nearby, and to my amazement, he saw me and came over, and we sat on a wall we used to do so often back then, chatted for what seemed ages. No idea what about, but am sure we laughed a lot. Until his Mam called him in for his tea. He left in the fashion we used to; “Tara, see yer later!”
As I was floating down the alleyway back onto the street, I woke up, nearly falling off of the porcelain throne. Felt horribly depressed that the dream was not reality. Hey-ho!
No rear end movement had taken place, I bent down to pick up the fallen crossword book and clouted myself spot on where I hit the head yesterday! Or was it the day before? Anyway, it brought me out of my daydreaming session. Hehe!
Did the last of the health checks, this time using the thermometer correctly.
Got the Hippopotaspuds nosh ready. The small vine tomatoes were tasty.
Last of the chestnuts used up, and Morrison’s no longer stock them online. Not that I could get any anyway, being hopefully in the middle of the card transfer, I can’t use either the old one or new one yet. Messy!
I should find out on Thursday… ah, another prospective messy day there. Got to go off To the Doctors, (must remember all I have to tell him/her) for 0850hrs, Social Hour at 1000hrs, then the Bank to see what’s happening with the account… No wonder the blood pressure is so high. Tsk!
Got the goggle-box on and swiftly as you like this time, despite Duodenal Donald’s attentions, I nodded off in minutes.
8 thoughts on “Inchcock – Monday 24th April 2017: Incorporating the midday(ish) dream that felt as real as any dream I’ve ever had!”
I can’t hear those stupid thermometers either. My wife say “It’s beeping already!” I take it out and it still registers “Lo” so I guess I don’t have a “temperature” as they say because it’s not registering anything. I like your photos today. The sepia is especially nice. That contact card they gave you? Does it get you into “emo” groups or sessions as we call them? Your dinners are looking ever so sparse.
Holds a lot of memories that sepia photo Sir.
How I wish I could have taken many more then, now! Tsk! Mind you, I didn’t have a camera then come think of it.
I didn’t see anything about the Emo groups, Tim.
Most of the things on offer were telephone based, so not good.
When things get sorted I will investigate deeper though.
Tonight’s meal is a bit bigger, if I ever get around to eating it. Hehe!
Is that like phone therapy? Ugh! Talking on the phone and trying to understand want people say is torture, and anger therapy if the intention is to make one angry. Fortunately, I get very few phone calls and now when people leave me a voicemail, my voicemail app transcribes the message. The app hears und understands the voicemail much better that I do. Deafness has it’s advantages in that I don’t hear all the pesky little noises that drive my wife crazy, but it’s a huge problem for general interpersonal communication.
This could have been me speaking Sir… not as eloquently but the same sentiments. Hehe!
Phone therapy; It read like this to me on one of the sites Tim. A no go there.
I can relate to what you say.
I can’t use my voicemail at all. I’ve got hundreds of unhearable messages on it, and can’t find out how to cancel the thing. Even went into the shop where I bought it (EE) and they failed.
A huge problem for general interpersonal communication – well said!
It’s the time when I can hear something, but not recognise what it is that get to me!
Busy couple of days coming up for me, I’ll dig deeper after they are over.
Cheers and taketh care.
The worst for me is soft, high female voices. A young woman can stand directly in front of me, and I can hear her speaking, but every word sounds like total gibberish. Now it could be that the young woman is actually speaking total gibberish, but I would never know one way or the other.
Understood. How memory prompting that comment was, Tim. Haha! This is why I surprised myself in agreeing to go out for this Fish and Chip meal today, with the other tenants.
It’ll be guesswork, best keep schtum for fear of saying the wrong thing.
Supper seemed a little more substantial this time, looked a (more or less) healthy selection too 😉
Doing my bestest with the fodder gal.
Not getting much, well any relief from Duodenal Donald yet, seeing Doctor on Thursday.
Taketh care and have a good kip.