Wednesday 23rd May 2018
Scots Gaelic: Diciadain 23 Cèitean 2018
0425hrs: Woke up and seeing no signs of any nocturnal nibbling, I was pleased. I waited for the brain to merge with the body, then saw a lot of scribbling on the notepad, but no memories of any dream details. The handwriting was undecipherable, so no help at all.
I deracinated my body mass from the £300 second-hand recliner and limped off for a wee-wee. Most relieved to see that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had only bled a little.
I took this photographicalisation of, I presumed a lady or chap was going off to work early morning.
I felt no guilt that it was not me. Hehe!
Porcelain Throne duties carried out. During which the brain quodlibetificated with itself, in an effort to sort out the needs of the day. To the Doctors for the blood test, hopefully, with Nurse Nichole. But the uncaring staff have given me another late appointment, 12:40hrs! Which means I have to go even later to the GUM Clinic for the testing to see which procedure they will recommend; Stapled or Strangulation Haemorrhoidectomy. During which, due to the lateness of the day for me, I fully anticipate I will be falling asleep during the examination. Globdangerations!
Got the Health Checks done. The hemadynamometer took the readings on only the second attempt.
The resulting figures all seemed acceptable to me.
I didn’t pull put the connecting tube correctly, and as I walked to fetch the milk from the refrigerator, I yanked the flipping sphygmomanometer off of the counter! What a nebech! Chipped a bit of the casing and scratched parts of it.
The worst part was the getting back up after bending down to retrieve the machine form the floor. And the pleurodynia started giving me some stick afterwards. Nebbish!
Then, another ! I dropped the mug while getting the bottle from the fridge, and I had another fine-mess to sort out, with more painful bending. Grumph!
However, the cup did not break, and it was the tiny porcelain one as well? So I made another mug of Breakfast Tea. And carefully, very much so, I took it to the computer desk.
Where I did the commenting and WordPress Reading first. Then began to update the Tuesday Diary. Not a very successful day yesterday overall – but then, today has not precisely started off too merrily either.
An Email from the clinic arrived, the appointment for the assessment has been cancelled. Well, fancy that!
I collated the nibbles for the nurse and put the paperwork and letters for surgery and clinic in the jacket pocket safely.
Had a wee-wee and started on this blog.
0920hrs: The Willmott-Dixon lads are back at the drilling outside just above my balcony.
Got the ablutions and medicationalisationing sorted out.
Grubbled about trying to make sure I had everything needed in the bag, then a check to see if the lights, taps, and power, etc. were not left wrongly, and set off out.
I’d taken a lot longer than envisaged with the medicating, so decided I’d walk to the bottom of Winchester Street and catch a bus to the surgery. If I walked all the way to the blood test, I might be late arriving.
Out and limped to the end of Chestnut Walk and down the hill. I crossed over before the bend in the road, it is safer just here. Around the curve, the Gas company had dug up the pavement and blocked the footpath off. So, I had to cross back over the road, at considerable risk, the traffic was heavy. The cross back again further down the hill. Tsk!
I limped on down the Mansfield Road and left to the bus stop.
Where a young Nottingham Pavement Cyclist shot by very close to hitting me!
He then nearly hit a lady with a shopping trolley. And continued to weave between the other pedestrians at a high rate of knots.
An uncaring antisocial animal with no manners, empathy with others; who really does need to come off of the bike and break a limb, poke his eye out and crack his skull open. Better still, fallen off of his bicycle and ended up underneath a heavy vehicle. Then get imprisoned. Just a wishful, justice-seeking whimsical thought I had at the time.
Fair enough, if the traffic is dangerous for any cyclist, I agree they should be allowed to use the footpaths when the risk is high for them to go on the road. But negligent idiots like this young man, who scare oldies like me, the lady with the trolley, and upset blokes like the one in this photo above, who’s giving the scum-bag the eye, should not be allowed to drive so dangerously to others. If Nottingham had not got rid of over 280 policemen since the Tory Government got in power, and I could have found one, I might have complained about the young sadistic, inhuman, cruel, punishment deserving douche of a git bike-rider! But he didn’t bother me of course. Lie Mode Adopted!
I caught a but for the three stops to the surgery.
What a farce of a short bus ride it was too! The bus was packed with passengers. At both, the of the two stops before the one I wanted; People got up to get off, and I had to move down the passageway to allow them room – then back to the other end of the bus to let those getting on in to get a seat, twice! Arthur Itis and Hippy Hilda were not pleased. Haha!
I alighted from the vehicle and limped to the surgery.
Logged in and sat doing the crosswords.
The amazingly kind and appealing Nurse Nichole came out to collect me.
She took the blood and gave me time for a little moaning and gossiping, bless her Cotton Socks. Handed her some nibbles and thanked her.
On the way out, I gave the receptionist their nibbles. And had a little plaint about the late appointment. They did not like this in the least bit, and I think I went down in their estimation.
But my dropping the sphygmomanometer on the floor. The mug of tea slipping out of my hand. The gas workers were blocking the pavement and making me take my life into my own hands. The beastly Nottingham Pavement Cyclist infuriated me so much. The horrendous short bus trips annoyances. And the receptionists giving me such a late appointment time had all together manoeuvered me into a niggly and braver than usual mood! I thanked them and left, out into the sunshine, and walked into Carrington and the chemist.
I enquired when the next prescriptions would be available. The lady patiently found out and informed me. Friday the 1st June. I then remembered last month when I was told the Ist of May, called in to collect them and they were not ready and had to go again two days later. So, I shall put this date as on Monday 4th June on the calendar when I get home.
Called into the Lidl store. Bought two cobs, some iced cones, tomatoes mini-capsicums and Mini Weiners. Paid on the self-serve checkouts without any hassle.
To the bus stop and got a lift into Sherwood. Again the bus was filled to capacity with Nottinghamian phone users, students with their headphones on, kids crying and gossiping ladies. There was no bother, though.
I got off and walked over the road using the pelican crossing and to the Wilko store.
Got some bleach, washing-up liquid, disposable razors and a body spray.
Up to the bus stop and caught the L9 up to the flats.
Welsh William and Gladys were on the bus. We had a laugh and chinwag.
As I got off of the vehicle, I dropped my bus-pass, much to the amusement of those tenants waiting to get on the bus. Hehe!
A bit of job getting back up again after retrieving it from the grass verge.
I caught up with Gladys and William, because poor Glad, was having to stop now and again, she was not feeling too well.
Got in had a wee-wee and washed. Then started the mushrooms and peas on the boil in a saucepan.
Got on the computer to update this waffle.
The Willmott Dixon lads were working right outside the balcony. It didn’t take long for a headache to join in with Arthur Itis and Hippy Hilda in hassling me. Ah, well.
A couple of hours later, I removed the dressing Nurse Nichole had kindly put on my arm. To reveal a right mess and mishmash of odd marks and bruises.
Got the potato cakes in the oven.
The phone rang out its chimes.
But, by the time I got to the phone, they rang off. Had a look, it was the Surgery with the results and weeks dosages. The level was 4.1, so I’m in the at risk stage in the bleeding stakes. They gave me an appointment and it was for 0852hrs next Wednesday. They had squeezed me in early! Yahoo!
I started to do the Morrison order… The damned Virgin Internet went down! Played about resetting, then on and offing and it came back on, slowly, very slowly!
Finished the Morrison order.
So tired now and feeling unwell for some reason again.
The meal was prepared and served-up. It looked fine. smelt good, but was not truly enjoyed as I kept nearly nodding off while eating it! Humph!
A mixture of feeling so tired and a brain that was so active it frightened me; prevented my actually nodding off.
I’m not keen on these light nights of Spring and Autumn.
At last the building lads have finished for the day.
But Herbert upstairs, did his best to replace their drilling symphony with his own knock-knock-tap-tap mini version for a while.
Washed the pots and went for a wee-wee. Little Inchies fungal lesion needed more attention and Hippy Hilda suddenly stopped bothering me altogether?
It’s been a Whoopsiedangleplop ridden day. Full of exasperating, grousing, annoying, nit-picking, fault-finding, bothersome, incident-ridden botherations, this Wednesday.
With all the hassles, vexations and piques, I feel like a different person and have lost my humour to Mr Annoyed. This is the latest hour I’ve got my head down in months now.
I thought putting the TV on would soon send me off into the land of Nod. Thankfully, it did, despite the racing self-pitying melange of thoughts rampantly tossing and turning in the brain.