Wednesday 30th May 2018

Galician: Mércores 30 de Maio de 2018

0225hrs: I woke with an unexpected determination to get the laundry done, the diary updated and all before getting ready for the hobble to the blood test. Where these rare, uncommon positive attitudes came from, I don’t know.

But, within a few minutes, I had detached myself from the £300 second-hand recliner (with no difficulties either [Smug Mode Adopted]), Got dressed and was collating the dirty washing in the bag to go down to the launderette.

A digression was taken for a wee-wee, then I was out of the door on the way to the lift. Both elevators were working, but number one, which I travelled down it seemed to move a little slowly?

The electronic information board told me it was 0232hrs, 13°c outside, and fire is everyone’s responsibility, oh, and light rain was falling.

Got the washing machine going and back up to the flat.

Swiftly I got the medications taken, and the Health Checks were done.

The sphygmomanometer worked the first time.

And the readings were looking very good, much nearer to the targets expected. At least I think they were, the memory being like what it is nowadays like?

Oh, come think of it, 170 for the sys might be a touch high?

The timer buzzed. A digression was taken for a wee-wee, then I was out of the door on the way to the lift again.

Both elevators were working, but number one, which I travelled down it seemed to be going a little slowly?

I moved the clothing from the washer into the dryer.

The filter had not been cleaned-out of fluff, so I did it before loading the machine up.

At this point, Anne Gyna let me know she was in a bad mood, and started to kick-off and gave me some gip.

I started the machine and made my way back to the lift to go and get the slowly building up needs for the Porcelain Throne tended to.

Aha, the lift I’d just been using (No.1) was now not working. But the doors opened to let me into the cage? I assumed that it had only just conked-out as I entered the cage?

Good job that number two was operational, I didn’t fancy the idea of climbing up 24 flights of concrete stairs.

Into the wet room and onto the Porcelain Throne, it was a closer call than I expected. But the session was not too bad, despite Trotsky Terence making his presence felt a little. And Anne Gyna had settled down a bit. She’ll return when I start the hobbling later, I’m sure.

I got on with updating the Tuesday Diary. I got it all finished as the timer-alarm chirped into life.

I got the clothing out and folded. Cleaned the filter and drum. Wiped the outer of the machines.

And, all this without a Whoopsiedangleplop in sight! Cocky Mode Adopted.

Back up to the apartment, and got the kettle on, had a wee-wee, made a start on this blog and then remembered I have not done the surgery staff nibble bags made up yet. So I got sorted them and added them to the bag.

Went to get the ablutions and medicationalisticals were tended to. All done with stinging lower regions (Haha!), I set out down and onto Chestnut Walk.

To the end of the road and turned right down the Winchester Road Hill.

The rain began to falleth, and grew from normal rainfall, rather nasty torrent! A sort of Thunderstorm without the lightning.

I noticed what the time was on the bus stop board, I had 58 minutes to get to the surgery so as not to be late.

Oddly, the rain lightened a little and the day turned brighter.

By the time I’d hobbled to the end of Winchester and left onto Mansfield Road; things seem to have changed again back again to darkness.

The expensive Bishops of Stortford Storm-Proof extra-strong umbrella that blew inside outwards!

Miraculously, it seemed to right itself all on its own?

Filling the bag, I was carrying with what looked like a few pints of fresh rainwater.

I think I may have expressed my appreciation of this incident, enunciating some words that I rarely use, manifesting swear words, oaths, and frustration, at this stage.

Further along the road, this rather ignorant Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, nearly rode into me as he pelted along in the opposite direction.

I adopted the use of the one word exclamation that is possibly the most popular in use.

I didn’t use the camera again on the trek, for fear of it getting water in it.

I think everything else did!

Sodden wet-through, pee’d-off, and yet proud that I got there on time, I entered the Sherrington Park Medical Practice. I faffled-around and finally got the umbrella to collapsed and got it to stay that way (closed-to). Then did my best to drain out the rainwater from the bag. There was no point in my trying to squeeze out the socks and drain the shoes; I’ll have to leave that until I get back to the apartment. Humph!

I went to the reception to get my usual professionally presented, yet punctiliously and cunningly hidden, sneer, then logged in with them.

I got sat down. The only good news so far was that the new crossword book had remained dry. Fair enough, it was a bit damp around the edges.

For a few moments, I felt in a semi-eunoian mood. Then, Nurse Ann arrived to collect me. I followed her meekly, to her room. I told her of my bruises that come and go, the scratch-like marks all over the body, the itching and the dizzy-spells increasing. “Well, anyone on Warfarin gets them!” Silence followed. I decided there was no point in mentioning anything that was worrying me. Nurse Ann got the blood taken, she did speak to me once, but I could not hear what it was she said. So I offered a supportive grunt and thanked her. Gave her the nibbles and departed. Dropping off the geliophobia receptionists their bites on the way out into the car park.

Got the brolly up, and braved buses hitting the accrued puddles at the side of the road, as the drains overflowed and sprayed me from head to foot each time. I was passed caring about getting any wetter, by now

I did my walk in the rain and Carrington, calling in the Lidl Store, initially to get some eggs to use in my first attempt at making cakes, and some cheesy cobs.

I also bought sugar-snap peas from Venezuela, tomato passata from Italy, Greek Lemon Yoghourt, Swiss chocolate bar, French lemon and lime still mineral water and two boxes of English seasoned potato slices.

Out and caught a bus into Sherwood.

Where the rain was even more substantial now. I called in the bank, to get some spending money. There were only four people in when I arrived and stood in the people-leaked-puddle at the queuing area.

Two in the queue and two being served. By the time bloke in front of me moved to the counter to get served, I think the socks had dried by 50%. Still, no rush I had a long time to wait before the L9 was due in Sherwood.

By the further time I spent in the queue as initially the sole fool waiting to get looked after, three separate customs had come in, waited, got fed-up and left!

I felt drained and confused by the time I got to the desk and had forgotten what the questions were I was going to ask the bank about. Still, the lady was patient and pleasant enough.

I still had spare time after I’d left the premises. So I called in the Co-op shop and got two bottles of the fizzy lemon and lime mineral flavoured water and something else, about what it was, my mind has gone absent about?

I walked to the top of the hill to the bus stop, with still ten minutes to spare before the L9 was due. Three other tenants joined me, but they were not in a talkative mood. Don’t blame them, they must have been as depressed and rain-soaked as I felt and was! Hehe!

After we all got off the bus at the complex, the other left me their wake as they scurried into the dryness of there home.

A delivery lorry was being unloaded by a chap and forklift. But the poor driver had nowhere to park other than on the narrow roadway. The other three tenants had got by before this had started.

Which meant, muggins here had to walk on the high wet grass to get by. I slipped, but managed to stop myself going over – but, this started Hippy Hilda off. Shlimazl!

Into the flat and got the oven warming up for the potato slices later.

Stripped off and got into the jammy bottoms. Computer turned on and updated this tosh for a couple of hours or so. Hung the soaking trousers on the airer.

Sounds (Clump, clunk, bang) like Herbert is having fun up above.

Then got the fodder served up.

A 9.45 taste rating awarded for this meal. I’d burnt the sliced potatoes to just the stage that I like them. (Albeit, not through meticulous, scrupulous or precise timing, rather pure luck).

Did the Health Checks and had a wee-wee and wash-up.

Got settled into the £300 second-hand recliner chair, turned on the telly so watch that I could fall asleep to.

Then realised I was giving birth!!!

A new, spot, blotch, pimple, whatever you call them, was coming up on the skin. To join in with his hundreds of brothers and sisters who had arrived over the past week or so.

I welcomed the pretty-coloured baby haemangioma, Christened him One-hundred-and-eighth, then went for a wee-wee.

A wet day, in which I was thoroughly drenched.

Attacked by Nottingham Pavement Cyclist.

Ignored by medical staff.

Had a 22-minute wait in the bank line – and I was the only one in that queue.

And gave birth for the 108th time in the last two weeks…

You’ve got to laugh!

Hehehe!