Monday 10th July 2017
Luxembourgish: Méindeg 10. Juli 2017
All the ailments all seemed to overtaken by Trotsky Terence, Cracking headache from when I had the Accifauxpa yesterday, the bleeding toe and Arthur Itis this morning. The feet and toe the worst.
0455hrs: Trotsky Terrence forced me to get up, although for once, I didn’t feel like doing so. But, needs must, and the Porcelain Throne had to be utilised quickly. Not as bad as I expected it might be, though. Much pain from the toe and feet, but; Reflux Roger, Anne Gyna, Hernia Harry, Haemorrhoid Harry and Duodenal Donald were all being so kind to me.
Rinsed up, kettle on and back to the recliner. Where I found some crisp (mystery) crumbs at the foot of the recliner and on the cover?
I could not remember eating any!
I investigated further and found not one, but two empty Marmite flavour crisp packets in the small bin nearby. Oh, and two mint chocolate bar wrappers. So guilty of secretly nibbling sessions now? What next? Hehe!
Took the medications. Did the Health Checks for today, and made up last week’s record for the surgery on Thursday… no, not Thursday, it’s Wednesday this time. Anyway, they looked okay to me: Sys 160, Dia 79, Pulse 92 (A bit high?) Temp 35.4 & Weight 14.84 up a bit.
Had a wee-wee.
Got the mobile bill in the bag to take to see either of the Obergruppenfurheresses to see if they can phone the company for me again as Obergerfeiteress Julie did a month ago, but the contract was not cancelled, apparently or else another bill would not have arrived. Hopefully, they can get it sorted and right this time. Don’t like bothering them really.
Got the computer going and updated the Sunday post.
As I cleaned and put the hearing aids in, I heard some dogs barking, so had a peep out of the kitchen window, in case it was those funny dogs from Saturday. Could not see any dogs at all?
Noticed the nice parking from the car on the left here. Forcing anyone in a wheelchair or mother with prams or pushchairs onto the soft grass or roadway to get by. Tsk!
Did some Emails, WordPressing and checked the calendar.
Had a wee-wee.
Stripped off, ready for going under the shower later, got the teggies done, a gulp of the Reflux Roger medicine and the foam on my wet chin for the shave… then remembered I’d broken the mirror yesterday. So, out to the kitchen to get what was the wet room mirror that I had moved to the kitchen, and took it back to the wet room. I think? Haha!
That done, I had a good scrub up and rinsed my glistening ripplingly muscled torso… oh, alright! My fat wobbly body, was dried off, medicated the appendages requiring the same.
Got the clothing on, not that I could ever be called soigné, but I did not look as rough as usual… I thought.
Got the bags and set out to visit the new temporary Community Shed in search of assistance with the telephone inquiring from someone. No one was there. Well, they are so occupied with all the changes taking place, bless them. There were a woman and bloke sat there in the main room, Nottingham City Homes people I assumed. I asked if they would kindly inform one of the wardens of my problem and the man suggested I leave the letter to be handed to one of the ladies so that they and I would not forget about it. I left the envelope with them. Put some nibbles in their fridge for them and departed. By the time I’d got to the end of the road, the feet and toe were really stinging.
The greenery always seems to cheer me up for some reason or other.
Plodded painfully down onto Mansfield Road and left towards Carrington.
I recalled as a lad, a few years ago like (Ahem!) I was with some mates in (Ironmongers) Farmer George’s field over theTrent in Wilford. Not being a countryfied lad, I saw some blackberries just this colour growing. I thought I’d discovered a new type of berry… stuffed myself with them, think I actually liked the bitter favour at the time… ended up in the hospital and got a good beating from Dad for trespassing. Just a memory shared. Hehe!
Up through Sherwood and over the apex and down into Carrington.
A nasty Nottingham Pavement Cyclist very nearly hit me as I passed by this bus shelter n the distance, near the library.
I could not hear him coming, and he was so close and fast it made me jump a bit. Humph!
On the way down the hill, as I passed St John’s Church and Church Drive there were the Private Clinic premises, where the do cosmetic stuff for the rich and well off.
I observed this smoker’s created ash-tray dug out of the decaying concrete in the small front brick wall. Nottingham Street Art, cannot be held back! Haha!
Called into the Chemist as per the young ladies instructions last Thursday, to collect my monthly supply of prescriptions.
Here is what took place:
Me: “Morning, I’ve come to collect the drugs.”
Young Lady: “I’ll have a look”.
She checked on the computer and spoke with the Pharmacist. Who looked right at me and raised his eyebrows as if to say a massive TSK! Followed by a sneer of contempt?
Young Lady returns to the counter: “It will not be ready until obslug bonk day” The hearing aid battery came out as she was speaking. I refitted the battery.
Me: “When I came in last Thursday, you told me it would all be here for today?”
Young Lady: “No, no, n
Me: “I remember writing the day down on the inside of my crossword book cover!”
With this, I produced the Crossword book, opened it and showed it to her
Young Lady: “Ah, I might have got it wrong then. Change the date now, so you don’t forget again.”
Me: “I didn’t forget did I?”
Young Lady: Looking a bit embarrassed now “No, sorry!”
That was what I wanted to hear. I was tempted to tell the girl how much bother I have had to go through to get here, but the nasty Pharmacist was giving us both more sneers and looks of disdain.
Me: “Ah well, don’t fret, see you later.” Gave her a Walnut Whirl and left.
Young Lady: “Thank you, goodbye!”
Orange juice, ketchup, BBQ sauce, nibbles for the Social, Nurses, Clinic and the Obergruppenfureresses.
Oh, and some Lemon Fool Dessert pots.
Out into the sunshine and blow me down with a feather duster.
Another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist almost hit me as I wobbled to the bus stop to catch one back into Sherwood, 
I think the varmint cyclist was cruising around looking for some nefarious money making activity opportunities. His head and eyes seemed to be darting everywhere, window, door, person? Cause a few minutes later he was around again?
He could have been looking for his mother, of course, to buy him an ice-cream.
Struggling with the heavy bags and decrepit feet and toe now? Huh! Caught a 58 bus into Sherwood and checked the time. If I was to go to Wilko now to get a shaving mirror, I might miss the L9 bus… a quandary, what should I do… decision time… er, erm… No, I can’t cope with walking up the hill with the two heavy bags – So I shuffled up the hill to the bus stop.
Fellow tenant from the 9th floor, Welsh Bill arrived and we had a jolly good natter. He was telling me that the hospital decided after a year, his pain and agony was due to a trapped nerve after his last foot operation. They put him back on the Morphine spray until next week when they will operate again. He was a different person as if he had been freed. His infectious laugh that we have all missed was back too! So glad to hear this, great news.
When the bus arrived, he carried one of the bags for me all the way back into the lift, bless his cotton socks.
As he left the elevator, he joked: “I can see you’re now limping on both feet, we can’t have that you’ll topple over. A laugh between us, and he offered to loan me his walking stick. I didn’t tell I had a collapsable one in the bag, but wondered why I had not got it out and used it? Clot I am! But wasn’t it kind of him to offer?
The walk to the chemist was no longer than the one to the doctors, but took my 55 minutes, where it usually takes around 45.
Got in and tended to Trotsky Terence’s demands, and an elongated wee-wee.
Put the food away and did a Morrison order, then got on to updating this diary. Took a long time, as Dizzy Dennis kept interrupting me.
To the Porcelain Throne and then got on Facebooking at last.
Note the space in the middle of the plate, left for the final ingredient of the meal to by placed into it?
The was for the pod peas that I’d put in the crock-pot and forgot to turn on, thus, space is just that, space. Tsk!
The Chinese mushrooms were lovely.
Got settled to watch some TV… Zzzz!
You need to tell the snarling pharmacist to get into 21st Century and get a reminder app for mobile devices so they can send you a notice on your mobile phone when your prescriptions are ready. Looks like a zoned out cyclist that almost took you out. Are those sausage patties on your plate sans uncooked peas?
I had thought of moving to another pharmacist (Boots) nearer to the flats, they can deliver the prescriptions for a little cost. But some of the other tenants who use them tell me that often they have problems with items not being available and have to stay in another day for the delivery of the missing ones.
I’m all confused lately. Dizzy Dennis and Trotsky Terence with me again, don’t help.
Still, no point in moaning, that won’t make anything better.
They be Frikadellens on the plate, Tim, next to where the peas nearly were. Hehe! Cheers sir.
My pharmacist regularly fails to order one pill I require or wouldn’t have had prescribed for me, eh?!
I’ve threatened to go to the other pharmacy that is actually closer to my home and still may.
The closer one used to make customers wait till their expiration date popped up, which I didn’t need, but then I learned the closer one is so much better because the fellow running it is the one who quit the other pharmacy where they regularly don’t order the pill I need so go a few days without till the order comes in. What?
Perhaps the answer is to go to the closer one and risk expiring before the pill I require that they don’t have finally comes in rather than having to pack my walker into my VW Golf Sportwagen (sic) because I know even if they have that pill finally at the farther pharmacy, I’ll have to do the Safeway Death March to get to the pharmacy, which is hidden in the nether regions of that store, then stand till I fall over if I don’t wrestle the walker into my VW….
I get tired just thinking about it! Best wishes getting your pharmacy fired up to give proper good service! I feel for you walking all that distance for naught. I’d be very grumpy, then, to get a runaround. Perhaps they’d have to call the police. LOL!
What a dilemma Sir!
A Couple of Coterie Chemist Clients in Confusion. Doing the Safeway Death March to get to the pharmacy. That’s us! Hehehe!
That could be a song or book title?
I hope the lads listen to your Woes while being Schrittched… Haha!
Good luck, thanks.