Monday 3rd September 2018
Welsh: Dydd Llun 3 Medi 2018
0305hrs: I stirred and pondered a short while, mostly about irrelevant, impertinent hog-wash. I even considered “Is it rude for a deaf person to talk (sign) with their mouth full of food?” The few minutes of weak contemplation was riddled with various negative thoughts and fears, like Why did I do that? What’s the use? “Let it wait,” and then one thought assumed control over the brain completely “God strewth, I can feel Little inchies fungal lesion was ensanguining into the protection pants, and the area felt tender, sore and sensitive.
All else, thoughts, dreams, and plans immediately lost their importance. Mission Medicationalisationing took over, and somehow I got out of the second-hand £300 recliner, with ease and was quickly in the wet room. The dried blood had to be soaked fastidiously, to avoid opening up the congealed sanguineous areas. And, I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, too.
It was apparent that it had been little and often leaking during the sleep. Which is better than having a mass loss of blood, that would mean me having to go to the hospital, straight away. The job of cleaning then medicating would need a word meaning more than painful, but agony is too intense a term to use.
After a good cleansing session, I spotted an Evil Boll Weevil Ironclad black biting beetle, casually swimming in the sink, where I had put a used cloth in to soak with bleach, antiseptic disinfectant and the last of the caustic soda!
I took the used PP’s from the bin, disinfected them along with the paper towels used, and got them into a dispensing bag.
Not a brilliant start to this Monday. But my spirits were not too low, now I had managed to patch up the lesion with the Hydrocortisone steroid cream, but I must remember to ask the Doctor for another prescription, the tube is nearly empty now.
Finally, I got to use the Porcelain Throne. What a messy, ten-second evacuation. An elongated splurt, a few splats, and it was over!
The process had started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again, but only a tiny bit. Another cleaning up session, the bowl and myself!
The swimming in the sink Evil Boll Weevil Ironclad black biting beetle had disappeared.
I decided to go and weigh myself and do an Evil Boll Weevil Ironclad black biting beetles investigative search and destroy mission.
The CritterKill card had nabbed a few more of the danged weevil/beetles.
There was a few more of the Evil Boll Weevil Ironclad black biting beetles around compared to yesterday morning.
But I only nabbed a couple of them, as the others scampered hastily away to I know not where. Tsk!
Into the kitchen, and completed the Health Checks for last week and this morning.
Sys, Dia and Pulse were up above recent weeks averages still.
Made a brew of the strong Assam tea, dropping the spoon as I did so. As I bent down to retrieve the cutlery, I felt the blood flow on the fungal lesion. Back to the wet room. Now I could be in trouble, with only having a spec of Daktacort left!
An in-depth search around in the medicine drawers proved to be my saviour – I found half a tube of Betamethasone Cream.
I used this a while ago, but it was not very useful and stung like hell! So the Doctor moved me on to the Daktacort. But this cream is far better than nothing! Cleaned things up and painfully applied this cream. I assume that my Warfarin INR blood level must be a little on the high-side, else I would have had more trouble in getting the lesion to stop bleeding than I did.
Got on to the computer to start on this blog. After a short while, I realised the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet was working very slowly! Grumph! It did get a little better later, but still far below expectations! Fancy that!
0620hrs: Some naughty tenant above used the waste chute. Far too early. I was okay, apart from getting a shock with the noise. But I imagine some poor devil or devil’s who were asleep, must have got a rude awakening! Of course, I live in the nearest flat on the floor to the chute! Hehe! Good job too, actually, cause I am usually awake at this time.
I had a quick bash on the WordPress Reader. Then got this post done up to here, then checked for any comments.
I’d forgot to finish yesterdays Inchcock and post it!
What a Luftmensh I am!
As I was changing to do the Sunday post, I spotted that I’d had a lot of views, only three likes mind, yesterday. From all over the globe?
This is a vast increase in my usual views I get?
I wonder why this was?
Mexico, Morocco, Ireland, India, South Africa etc.
Do you think it might be the fact that I used Alcatraz in a blog title? Hehe!
I got the Sunday post finalised and posted off.
Made a brew (which went cold) and checked out the new comments.
Then on to TFZer Facebooking. That took a while.
Better get the Health Checks done, then the ablutions tended to before I take a little hobble down into Sherwood and the shops.
Shaved, showered and all spruced up, I took the four bags of rubbish to the waste chute.
I set out, going down to visit Jenny and Frank first. Both were in, and I received an effective telling-off from Jenny, and a suspicious look from Frank. Hehehe! We had a bit of the chinwag, and I continued down to the lobby.
Two gals in the foyer gave them a nibble from the bag, and a bit of a laugh. Farewells bode, off I set out on the mini-hobble down to Sherwood, in search of the lemon-cream biscuits that I’d fallen in love with.
Going down Winchester Street, and the weather was perfect with a view I thought was worth photographicalisationing. I tried the shot in panoramic, but this was the best I could produce.
At first, I was surprised that there was no vehicles and only pedestrians it view, and no Pavement Cyclists in sight whatsoever. Then I realised that here I was, going out in the afternoon, something I rarely do. Also, anticipation stirred, of the for sure upcoming falling asleep. Hehe!
As I limped to the Continental Food Store, I noticed even more retail units had closed down.
Yet, a few brave hopefuls had opened new businesses, every one offering the same services as the stores that had gone bankrupt and closed?
Sadly, the Continental shop had sold out of the lemon-biscuits, and they do not know if they will be stocking them again. Sob! Depressed now, I had a good look around and ended up getting a large jar of pickled slice cucumber, another one of Gherkins, tins of beans, bread, cakes fro the restarting Thursday Social Hour, and Gawd knows what else.
I paid the appeallingly stocky, tall, well-built young lady at the checkout. I’m pretty sure she overcharged me, Fifteen pounds for what I had in my bag didn’t sound right to me.
But then again, she did not give me a receipt so I could not check the charge. Maybe she charged me for ogling her magnificent body? Hahaha!
I gave her a smile that was not reciprocated (naturally, and perfectly understood of course), and pointlessly disenchanted, I exited the store.
Realising that if I wanted a bus ride back up Winchester Street hill, I had a forty minute wait.
So, without fuss, ado or hesitation, I began the painful limp up the sparsely populated Winchester Street hill to the flats, with determination.
It was hard going, getting up the hill with the weight of the bag. It felt sort of eerie to me, the lack of vehicular activity?
There were a few stops en route up the hill, where I needed a break, and to ease the plates-of-meat and fingers from carrying the bag.
Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were both so kind to me, only the slightest bit of bother, and they were easily coped with, hardly worth mentioning really, compared to how they would usually have given me agony.
Most unnatural, taking into account the steepness of the road?
I made it up the Chestnut walk. I chinwagged with two ladies say in the sunshine on the bus stop bench.
Then I called in the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Unterscharführeress Wardens Temporary HQ, Willmott-Dixon workers tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Shed, Telling Inchcock off Zone, Things like crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus, shed. Another marvellous nattering and laughing session with the three gals and Warden Julie in there.
Farewell exchanged, I left the hut, to find that some sort of pathway was marked out with barriers for us pedestrians, Lego-like, on the right-hand side. This was because the workers had been forced to block the entire left-hand footpath off so they could gain access to dig-out the cemetery. Hahaha! Of course, it could be a paddling pool for us? Or, to lay the pipes to get to the new Management building and Extra Care flats being built?
You can see their problem in this photograph I took on the left here.
In the distance, my destination, looking rather posh now, Woodthorpe Court. Where I planned to get something to eat and settle down doing nowt but watch the telly and fall blissfully asleep. I felt so drained suddenly, no idea why, though.
I got inside the flat, had a wee-wee, another short-sharp-painful one, got the kettle on and did the Health Checks and took the medications.
Went to check that I had locked the door, and found a letter sticking through the flap.
Oh dear! This worried me a little. It was from the Pension Company who had bought out my Co-op pension a few years ago. They explained that if I did not fill in the form details and return it to them straight away, I might lose my payment?
Angst and fretfulness overcame me. So I filled it in right away, and put it in the envelope and went out to the mailbox to post it.
The box is located at the far end of the complex, close to Winchester and the new Extra Care Courts.
I took the opportunity to shoot a zoomed-in picture of some of the worker lads on a hoist, they were on the New Build top floor.
Came out okay this photo, I reckon.
Limped down to the postbox and posted the worrying letter.
On my hobble back to the flats, I noticed someone had a visit from the Community Road Safety Police?
Int it horrible, when you don’t know what is going on? Hahaha!
Back up to the apartment, well-weary, now. I got the fodder prepared and served up.
Vegetables in tomato passata, crispy streaky smoked bacon, sliced well-cooked seasoned potato slices and some of the best tasting continental sliced bread available.
At times I nearly fell asleep eating it, but it was so tasty. I couldn’t eat it all, a case of the eyes-being-bigger than the stomach, methinks. Still, a worthy 9.45/10 Flavour-Rating was given for it.
Washed the pots.
Within minutes of getting down in the £300 second-hand recliner, I was off asleep!
I woke up thinking it was morning! What a Nebbish! I dismounted the recliner and noticed how much warmer it felt this morning.
Got the light on and checked the monitor.
Noticed the clock – What a nitwit! 2210hrs!
Back in the recliner and was soon off into the land of Nod again.