Monday 9th July 2018
Scots Gaelic: Diluain 9 Iuchar 2018
0030hrs (Approx.): I woke, wearing just the PP’s, out of the recliner, ran down the twenty-four flights of stairs, smashed straight through the foyer doors, and ran outside (With the shattered glass repairing itself and reforming as I ran on). None-stopping, constant movement, going through the tree copse, I ran up the gravel hill path into the park, almost gazelle-like. Dozens of dogs chased me, each with a ball or stick in their mouths and their tails wagging. I ran all the way to Skegness, through rain, snow, blizzards, and sunshine… Fell down a sewer, the lid breaking-up and seemingly made of chocolate, ate a bit of it as I tumbled down the shaft, and smashed into a tunnel, with sarcinarious pit ponies working. Then I woke up for real!
Astonishingly, all the above details I found later, mostly legibly scrawled on my notepad. I thought I fell asleep quickly again, but couldn’t have, or I would have recalled making the notes, undoubtedly?
0450hrs: I bestirred into a semi-lifelike state, and lay there a few moments, half expecting to find I was still dreaming again. An odd, addlepated start to the day!
I was soon battling my way out of the £300 second-hand recliner, and the first Whoopsiedangleplop of the day was discovered.
I was gobsmacked when I noticed what was in the waste bin, indicating the amount of nocturnal nibbling that had taken place.
Oh dearie me! Oy-yoy-yoy!
Shame and self-loathing modes were adopted! With Depression-Mode on stand-by. Tsk!
I then trudged into the kitchen, and although there was no sunshine outside, I was surprised to see how high the temperature was.
31°c – 87.8°f. This reminded me to look for a suitable fan, 16″ oscillating as advised by TFZer. Sandie.
The first of many short, sharp wee-wees was taken.
If it is my own Doctor Vindla and they can fit me to see me today, I must remember to mention this to her when I show her the blotches and get a diagnosis and hopefully some advice from her. Although, the shingle-like-blotches are not so bothersome this morning, and looked to be calming down now.
Although, there were some new spots that at first, I thought were some of the alien tank-like built mini-beetles. I went to brush them off, and one of them bled a tiny bit. So, I assumed they were bits that had been leaking a little bit and had dried up, as things get betterer. Not a pretty sight to look at all the same. Hehe!
Got today’s Health Checks done.
Going to take the medications with a mug of tea, and luckily I noticed that I had made a mess of making this weeks pots. I’d put the night in the morning row of pots! Readjusted them. Then made up the Excel record of last weeks Health Check results to take with me to the surgery.
Made a start on this diary up to here.
Too early to have a shower for fear of disturbing my neighbours. No time to get on with updating yesterday’s post, or I might be late getting to the surgery. And, being as I have to beg to see if the doctors will look at me without an appointment, and sit around waiting if he or she can, I do not want to get there late.
So, already being stripped of everything bar me PP’s, I went to the wet room and did the teeth, had a much-needed shave. Then come 0800hrs, I can have the shower and do the medicationalisationing of the lower regions front and back. Hehehe! Back in a bit, I hope. Adept planning, this yer know! Hehe!
Worked on this post. And then, got in and had the shower. After which, I checked on the Blotches Conditions.
Sorted the waste bags, three small ones for the rubbish chute and one big recycling bag for taking down to the caretaker’s room door along with two empty jars for the glass bin.
As I got ready to depart, an equanimity, almost a serenity of sorts overcame me. Not my usual outlook on life lately: but anything mentally with me nowadays appears to be permanently changeable. Does that read right to you?
The itching around my blotched areas was definitely more active and annoying.
Out into the sunless sky, a very nice cool breeze about today.
Along Chestnut Walk, by the new build, Winchester Court, the Warden and Social Hut to the end of the road, and turned right down Winchester Street hill.
The ailments were all being kind to me, apart from the Plates-of-Meat. This will I imagine, be due to the lack of hobbling I’ve got in over the weekend.
Passing the blackberry bushes coming through the wire mesh fencing, I noticed these two insects on the same leaf.
For some reason, I pictured two gun-fighters walking down the centre of the leaf, ready to draw! Haha!
I limped on, the feet getting worse with every step and wishing I’d taken an extra pain-killer earlier. But there you go, Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit. Roughly translated; “No man is at all hours wise!”
As I went up the hill towards Carrington, at first, I was so appreciative of the Nottingham Pavement Cyclist who had (Kindly I thought) got off of his two-wheeled transport and was pushing it instead of riding.
When I zoomed in, I saw his chain had come off of the bike. I did not adopt a smug mode or laugh. Honestly!
Over the brow of the hill, and down Mansfield Road to the Sherrington Park Surgery Medical Practice.
Only one patient in the waiting area, three reception staff, a Doctor and Nurse Ann were all chinwagging as I approached the lady at the reception. I briefly told her of my dilemma and concerns. The three attendants held a huddle-talk, and one of them told me to take a seat, and the Doctor will see me when she gets time. I thanked them and got myself seated and the crossword book out.
I was doing so well with it, it was almost a shame when Dr Vindla came and summoned me into her surgery, after only ten minutes. Bless her!
I’d written down exactly what it was I needed to advise her of, and I would not forget or miss anything off, or over-waffle to her.
Fair enough, okay, I’d left the note at home. This could happen to anyone! Moyshe Kapoyer!
It seems I have a VZV (varicella zoster virus), but Not shingles. Doctor Vindla put two prescriptions through her computer straight to the chemist for me. One for Cetreben Cream and one for, what she told me was excellently useful Clobetasone Butyrate cream.
Of course, I knew there were four items on my reminder note, but being as I had not taken it with me, the other three will have to wait a bit longer. Tsk! I thanked her and left on my way to the chemist to fetch the prescriptions. She added, any changes, you must come and see me again.
Made my way to Carrington Chemist, took my time, the feet were getting even sorer and painful.
Told the young lady that Dr Vindla had forwarded the prescription about fifteen minutes ago, and had a walk around the shelves while I waited.
The assistant returned to me with one tube of Cetreben cream and told me they have no Clobetasone Butyrate cream, but I can come and collect it in two days time. This got the hackles up! I spoke slower and clearly, with I think, letting my annoyance be known through the tome of my voice, and said: “I’ve been with this chemist for fifteen years now, I had to move into semi-sheltered housing miles away, but have always struggled to get here as an appreciation of how you used to look after me. If you knew the bother and hassle I put myself through to come here each time, you’d know how this wrangles me!” The unfortunate thing looked mortified. She went off to speak to the pharmacist. He rarely talks to me. She returned to tell me they had some Clobetasone Butyrate Ointment, but no cream and the contents are identical. I pointed out that if one was cream and one an ointment, by that very fact, they could not have identical contents? She was baffled and asked if I want to take the ointment. I told her I have no choice!
She fetched the tube of Clobetasone Butyrate 0.10% w/w Ointment. I offered a thank you and left. I seem to have gone from a malleable to mulcible mood today.
Out and over the pelican lights then up the road and called into Lidl to get some milk. Another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist shot by close to me. Most aggravating!
I got to the self-serve tills with a fair bit of fodder.
Washing up liquid, bleach, lemon and lime still water. Caramel bars for the Social Hour nibbles. Three lemon yoghourts. Tomatoes, mushrooms and a jar of Mint Sauce with balsamic vinegar. Of the thirteen items scanned, eleven had to have the none-speaking, tutting and sneering assistant reset the machine. Lidl management prospect there, methinks.
Got to the bus stop, and a loud, disturbing borborygmus shook my whole innards. Yet, moments later it had cleared. Not to return again?
Got into Sherwood and made my way to the bus stop. I had a twenty-minute wait, and then only for the 40 route vehicle.
The next L9 that would have lifted me right to the flats was 40 minutes away yet.
That last bit of a walk from the bus stop on Winchester Street Hill up the hill to Chestnut Walk seemed to take a lot out of me.
I stopped at the L9 bus stop and had a natter with a gal from Winchester Court who was waiting for her son to arrive to give her a lift.
I hope he arrives in time for her, sweet gal is Brenda.
Then on to the foyer of the flats, and sat down with Mo, who was doing her washing in the laundry room, for another chinwagging and laughter session.
The itching around the blotches suddenly increased again.
Gawd, the heat hits you in the face when you get into this flat!
Got the fodder put away.
Made a drink with some of the cooled spring water that I added some raw lemon juice too, to cool off yesterday. Lovely!
The left arm had grown some more blotches since this morning. I got the Clobetasone Butyrate 0.10% w/w Ointment opened and started to apply some.
No wonder my Doctor Vindla had requested cream and not ointment. It would not soak in or dry, a right mess I got myself into.
Again the itching was driving me potty.
Then, I found that blotches were spreading to the right arm as well.
Any bets on how far the blotches will spread? Hahaha!
The old scars from the heart op are now changing colour every now and then. They tend to change regularly, cream, pink, blues and odd orange at the moment? Still, its summat to keep you interested, innit?
The heat is stifling now.
Time is getting on now, the weariness growing.
I’ll have a go on Facebook while I’m still awake. Mustn’t forget first, though, it’s Sandies Birthday, I’m sending her something differnt this year, a dolls house for her to play with. ♥X♥.
Gotth nosh in the oven, sliced seasoned potatoes.
Having canned pork knuckle with it, tomatoes, gherkins
Facebooking was done.
Did the Health Checks and took the medications.
Noshed served up.
Seasoned potato slices, apple, a variety of different coloured tomatoes, dried fried onions and a can of Pork Knuckle.
A 9/10 taste rating given for this one.
Yet again, getting to sleep was not easy.
Even when the brain went into ‘I’m not interested’ mode, I remained laying there watching banal TV programmes, with the occasion passings of wind and scratching at the blotches.
No idea when I eventually dropped off, but I remember the 2200hr news coming on the gogglebox.