Tuesday 10th October 2017

0145hrs: I woke in the £300 second-hand recliner with my pyjama top off (folded neatly on the chair next to the recliner?) and horripilation over both cold arms and hands. The untaken evening medication pot on the Ottoman. A few seconds spent wondering what, how and why this has happened. The pondering abruptly ended when demand from the innards arrived for my urgent attention and utilisation of the Porcelain Throne.

The recliner refused to operate when the button was pressed. Near panic broke out as I excogitated on the easiest, safest and quickest way to manipulate my way out of the recliner. I think I gained some bruises as I did so, but it didn’t take too long.

Got on the Throne and battled against the now reluctant evacuation. No cleaning up needed after this session. Luckily the Lenigrad book was to hand for a read during the exodus. During which I recalled a bit of the dreaming I’d done earlier, not much, though. I think I was trapped in a deep oubliette with torture equipment around, thumb screws, pit and pendulum and one of those coffin-like boxes with spikes sticking inside, which is where I was, bleeding and yet trying to do a crossword using my finger dipped in blood, to fill in the answers. I even remember it was the Daily Sketch (As was).

I got a shirt on sharpishly afterwards and made my way back to the recliner. Tried the button on the control, and it worked?

Was I suffering from madness, dementia, derangement, lunacy, insanity? Do I now qualify as a crackpot, crank or eccentric? The reason for taking off my jacket? Why did the recliner controls not work earlier? Why is my Throne Session changing to opposite extremes almost daily? Why is my toothache so much worse this morning? Why is my skin looking so pale? On and on the self-questioning trundled into my already confused grey-cells. This was too much for my head to handle, and my brain gave up looking for logicality and explanations, explication, illumination or interpretation, and decided a mug of tea would help better?

Health Checks and medications were seen to.

Got on with finishing the Monday diary and got it posted.

0440hrs: Finally got this journal started off. Until 0600hrs, when I got the ablutionalisationing duties done. Taking no chances, I donned a pair of the protection pants after medicationalising specific areas.

On the way out I took the rubbish bags to the chute, and empty balsamic vinegar bottle to the still overflowing recycling bin.

0700hrs: Started the walk to the surgery along Chestnut Walk. Took this photograph of the Winchester Flats, car park and the works for the new-build block of 44 flats. It was not cold at all out there. Mind you, I was well wrapped up and had the ‘Hot Pants’ on under the trousers. Hehe!

Turned right at the end of the road, down Winchester Street Hill. All quiet on the Eastern Front.

Along and up Mansfield Road and near the Sherwood Arms pub, this lass of a Nottingham Pavement Cyclist appeared riding towards me.

She missed me by inches and seemed to be unaware of how close, in her own little woolgathering world.

Up and over the brow of the hill. Only to be faced by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist coming at me.

This one knew alright, for he giveth me a look that should have killed me on the spot really, so vile was it as he passed me by. I do not think he liked being photographicalised?

Further down the hill and the traffic began to increase.

The car turning left clipped the van coming out of the sideroad.

Or it might have been the other way around of course.

Walking passed and leaving the altercation behind me, and would you believe it, another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist approached me, from behind this time! I had the camera in my hand still, but so fast was his speed, he was just tiny in the photo, and I zoomed in too! Tsk!

Into the surgery. One receptionist told me to take a seat the moment she saw me, so I sat down. The other receptionist called me back, saying me she had something for me from last week. She bent down and produced the crossword book I thought I’d left on a bus, for me. I thanked her. Sat down and got out the new crossword book, and seconds late Nurse Nichole came out to collect me. She was not in a good mood or spirits for some reason. She was still gorgeous with a kind nature, but I could tell something was amiss with her life. My EQ is never wrong by much. This concerned me, as she is usually a little more spritely, effervescent than she was this morning. But seeing her again, still lifted my demeanour. Gave her the bag of nibbles and thanked her.

On leaving, the receptionist said they would call me with the results when they get them back, so I would know next weeks dosages and could make arrangements with the dentist either way for Friday.

Today’s appointment is so early, after I got a TV magazine from the newspaper shop, that the Lidl store had not opened. So I had a walk around Carrington for a while reminiscing, unhappily. I came across this Nottingham Street Art near the lamppost as I approached the Lidl Store.

I wandered around in no big rush, as I didn’t fancy the foot-slog back into Sherwood, but was stubbornly telling myself not to pay the £2 bus fare, as it was still way too early for me to use the free bus-pass. Humph!
Ended-up buying lemon fools, Orange & Lime fresh juice, milk, bananas and some Haddock-in-batter. Had to use the self-serve counters, because there was no one on the tills. Again I struggled, and someone came over and made it look easy, but he did not tell me what I was doing wrong.

Began the march back into Sherwood, with all the foot-slogging yesterday, the feet were painful and stinging now.

I turned back near the brow of the highest hill and took a photographicalisation of the none-moving traffic.

Down the hill into Sherwood, and on the opposite side of the road, yet another one of the notorious Nottingham Pavement Cyclists was belting down the slope.

I got the camera out, and was surprised later to find he was a blur on the picture!

Onward and up the next hill. I was not doing too bad with the hobbling indeed under the circumstances.

I called ar the Wilko store and got some washing freshener granules, Fragrance Boost or whatever they call them. Then I decided to treat Wardens Deana and Julie to some fresh cream cakes and called in the Birds shop and got some.

Near the top of the crest of the hill, yet another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist took my attention. He’d shot across the Pedestrian Pelican Lights at such speed, he nearly hit the lamppost outside the abandoned, soon to be a new Gym property. But he corrected his Wayward-Whoopsiedangleplop well.

Up over the top and down to the Woodthorpe Grange Park gates.

Where the fatigue of the long walk caught up with me.

I had to stop a while to recover. Soon felt much better and set off on the walk to the top of the park and right down to the flats.

1130hrs: Into the apartment without seeing anyone and unpacked the bag and put the things away. Put the cakes in the fridge to take down for the gals later.

A wee-wee and set about updating this diary.

1258hrs: I nipped down to the hut with the cakes for the wardens. Obergefreiteress Julie was in. We had a friendly natter while she worked on her computer, and I put the cream-cakes in their fridge and set off back to the flat. I met Obergruppenfurher Warden Deana and the gal from the building company, and we had a conversation. They would be calling in the morning twixt 0900 > 1100 to do the balcony sealing off.

Once more up to the apartment and a wee-wee,  washed, then got the tomatoes halved and marinating in White Wine Vinegar, the baked beans with added balsamic vinegar into the saucepan, and got the instant spuds and cheese ready, also heated the oven-ready for use later. Then took the midday medications. By gum, that sounds as if I am almost organised. Haha!

Had a go at catching up on Facebook. Fingers crossed it will work a little better this time, without the freezing and going slow. No, just as bad if not worse now. Grr!

The tap-tapping gain from upstairs.

Got the fish fodder sorted.

Health Checks and medications taken.

Cleaned the pots and thought it a good idea to try and clean the oven up as best I could manage.

Accifauxpa: Stopped trying to do this after I burnt the back of the hand on the oven sides. Antiseptic cream applied.

Settled into the recliner waiting for a call from the surgery with my INR reading results as promised by the Doctors surgery receptionist. It did not arrive.

Checked the Emails.

They had sent the weeks doses, and next appointment for the blood test, but failed to inform me of the INR Level Results.

I had especially asked them to do this morning. To try and sort out the dentist farce and get my teeth tended to!

Oh, dear, most disappointing. Sent a request back to the surgery for the badly grammared Email received, begging for the INR level again!

Went for a wee-wee, and was most startled to find the silly protection pants with blood in them. At first, I was a little concerned that Little Inchy’s fungal-lesion had started bleeding again.

Are these ailments all sempiternal, will any relief be possible?

Luckily, it was not Little inchy, but Haemorrhoid Harold who had supplied the blood that filled the pants. Phew!

So glad I was wearing the protection pants today! Even if they are a devil to manipulate when I need a wee-wee. You’ve got to laugh!