Tuesday 30th May 2017

Scots Gaelic: Dimàirt 30 Cèitean 2017

0415hrs: Stirred with a sensation from the innards that ‘Thomas Trots’ were brewing within again. Aware of the fact that I had been dreaming but once again, no recollections of any details. Most annoying this. Huh!

Dismounted the £300 second-hand recliner and off to the Porcelain Throne. No bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold, but the ‘texture’ was a bit loose and reminiscent of the ‘Trots’ returning and was nervous making. Humph!

Kettle on and took the medications. Did the Health Checks with the following results:

Sys 153 – Dia 75 – Pulse 91 – Temperature 35.8 – Weight (Wait for it…Hehe!) Up to 14.85! One day of my being stuck indoors again and up it shoots!

Made a brew of good strong tea and got the computer going to start this diary off. Then back to the Porcelain Throne once more… oh dear, definitely more splatter in nature this time. Not good this. Afterwards, the stomach started rumbling, grumbling and annoyingly with stabbing pains.

Updated to here, then finished off yesterday’s chronical and got it posted off.

Did some WordPress reading.

Worked through the Emails.

Onto CorelDraw to start a TFZer graphicalisation. While doing them, the surgery emailed me with the next INR test for Tuesday 6th June at 10.05am.

1125hrs: Tired with all the concentration on doing the graphics.

Going to get the ablutions done and get out on the bus into Arnold and call at the Open Market to try and get some fresh pod pea, methinks.

Back in a while, I hope.

Good clean up completed, I set out to the bus stop. Nice chinwag with some of the residents.

The L9 to Bestwood arrived and I was only one of us to get on it.

As the bus took a slightly deviant route down into Sherwood, I took the opportunity to take a photographicalisation through the window, of a different view of Sherwood and Basford.

The sky, like all day, kept threatening rain or worse as it would darken suddenly then slowly lighten again?

Into Arnold and I dropped off the vehicle near the Wilko store.

Popped in, but did not buy anything.

Along to the Open Arnold Market and to the fruit and veg stall. They did not have any fresh pod peas on sale, though.

Plodded along Front Street, not many folks out and about today.

Had a bit of a Dizzy Dennis on the walk to the Fulton Food Store. Managed to get two bottles of the tasty Sterilised milk, with with a long ‘Use by’ date on them. Some Lemon flavoured ice cones for only a quid, that were titled on the box of six as “Rios Waffel Hornchen’s” German perhaps? 400g cans of Garden Peas at 3 for only a quid! And two packs of strong cheddar for only £2! Got some bargains there did I not?

Of course, I didn’t need any of what I bought, apart from the sterilised milk. Tsk!

Then, foolishly, I wandered across the road into the Asda (Walmart) store. Where I first got a TV magazine for next week, then looked for some pod peas but they had none in. Then, totally incomprehensively, I bought two packs of grated strong cheddar that were on offer. Talk about the short term memory going when you get on a bit – How I could have forgotten I’d bought the two packs from Fulton’s ten minutes earlier, I don’t know! Sad really!

It got worse. They were offering Minced Lamb and Potato Hot Pots, at two for £3, Lemon and Lemon Curd yoghourts on offer, a pack of some cheese filled potatoes for baking reduced from £2 to £1.59, a pack of 6 English tomatoes at 69p, biscuits, Pork and Mushroom Pate, bread thins, Surimi sticks, chocolate Shortcake biscuits and Potato Farls.

Paid the lady at the checkout and struggled to carry the two bags to the bus stop when I departed the store.

Got to the bus stop and waited for the L9 bus to get me back to the flat and the Porcelain Throne.

The innards and the Trots were threatening an Accifauxpa as the rumbled away suddenly.

A most uncomfortable and nervous bus ride home.

I photographed the sky as we passed some houses, it was looking threatening again.

Tried to do some crosswords then, anything to try and take my mind off of the imminent possibility of utter embarrassment and shame of loosing control of the innards bubbling away. Oh, dearie me!

I had what might have proven to be a calamity when I got back to the flats. Several other tenants got off at the same time, and as they made their way rapidly to the foyer, I realised there were too many of us to all get into the lift… as I was the slowest moving it followed that I would have to wait for them to go up and lift to come back down… further risking an Accifauxpa from the rear end!

By the time I got there they were all on their way up, and the wait for the lift to return back down seemed like a painful month of Sundays to me! I can laugh about it now, but not at the time! Hehe!

Sweating somewhat by the time I got in the lift, praying control could be maintained and Timothy Trots would not cause me shame.

Getting out of the lift and to the flat door is a haze more than a memory. Bags dropped in the doorway floor, clothes discarded and into the wetroom, tore the flipping trousers and underpants panicking to get them off ASAP… And…relax! Made it without any real Whoopsidenagleplop, but with not a second to spare!

Haemorrhoid Harold was flowing blood freely and Duodenal Donald started giving me some stick. Had to do a mammoth cleaning up session of the Throne, wetroom and myself. Wiped contact surfaces with the lemon antibacterial wipes. Got the Protection Pants on, threw away the trousers after emptying the pockets into another pair. I felt so drained then. But pleased at having avoided a totally ignominious outcome.

Got the purchases out and stored them on their proper places.

Then remembered the Morrison order arriving tomorrow!

With no room in the freezer and very little in the fridge, things might get difficult in the morning?

Humph!

Got the fodder on the cook, Lamb hotpot in the oven added the potato farls and balls later.

Served it up, unsure if I was eating the right thing here for the innards situation?

Decided I was not, so only ate a bit of it, to be on the safe side. Tempting as it was, as it did taste marvellous.

Shame that!

I did have one of the Waffel Hornchen’s afterwards, the cone was really soft, but the lemon ice-cream was great.

I think the Quorn vegetable lasagne in the fridge might be alright to try for tomorrow’s meal?

The rumbling and grumbling remained, but no worse, and there were not too many trips to the Throne afterwards either. Although I did feel well drained and a little confused for some reason?

Checked the TV paper and chose some things to watch. Fell asleep of course, when I woke there was a different programme on than what was indicated in the TV magazine. I rechecked and discerned belatedly that I had read tomorrow’s page in error. Huh, clot!

Soon nodded off again. Waking up what seemed seconds later, but with dream memories in my head? Wrote down notes to record later. I was in the garden of the old house, creosoting the fencing… Tony Blair joined me, with Michael Foot with him… I pointed out that Michael was welcome in my garden. You (Blair) the philargyrist and empleomania sufferer, was not! How the heck did I remember those words? Blair used his mobile phone and (Perhaps the SAS?) armed men arrived and kicked down my fencing and covered my face with shaving foam, Blair warned me about something, I kept asking repeatedly what he meant but did not get an answer from the non-stop nattering and gesturing Blair… Then I was on a rooftop…?

There was another line of text, but it was undecipherable.

Not having eaten much, I felt a bit hungry, and wondered what to have that would not aggravate the innards or ‘Trots’.

Did the Health Checks and took the medications – including one of the Morrison Diarrhoea capsule that I found pretty effective on my last attack of the ‘Trots’.

Then thought I’d have some biscuits to nibble, thinking they will not cause any aggravation to the situation. Hehe!

Which I don’t think they did – But, the hitting of my head on the cabinet door above when I went for the biscuit box did! Whoopsidangleplop!

Got the head down again, and was soon off in the land of nod… ten minutes later, up out of the £300 second-hand recliner and into the Porcelain Throne room.

This became the pattern for the night really. Humph!

TTFN.