Thursday 17th January 2019
Norwegian: Torsdag 17. Januar 2019
00:15hrs. I woke with the new big bruise on the leg stinging and aching something rotten. Then my concentration changed, and I pondered over the task of moving the flats stuff around in preparation for the visit from the demolition men to install the pipework for the new sprinkler system. Would I make it to the Social Hour today? Will the bruise and feet allow me to walk okay when I get up? Little Inchy is bleeding, ah, no signs of nocturnal nibbling. Eventually, my wandering brain returned, to the moving the things around problem, so much did it concentrate on this, that I decided to get up straight away and get the computer on to check the Google Calendar for the timings. Despite the Clinomania that hovered in my mind.
I extracted my obeast stomach-supporting body from the £300 second-hand rickety, rusty recliner, without much bother. As soon as I stood up, the new bruise let me know its displeasure. I’m still not convinced this is a bruise. The type of pain it gives are nothing like the ones the multitude of other bruises gives me? But if Dr Vindla says it is, then it must be.
First thing I did was get the computer on, and check the Google Calendar. Oh heck! I found that it is not on this Thursday, but next Thursday that the men are calling to do the pipework! Another Cringe-making! Whoopsie! Sheepish-Shamed-Faced Mode Engaged!
As I got up to respond to the call to the Porcelain Throne, the new bruise gave me more stick and pain than I thought it should be doing. And during the evacuation, I felt Dizzy Dennis trying to issue me some hassle, but only very mildly. I do not need him to kick off again like last night. Else my brain will end up being useless to me. Not that it is all that concentrated or useful as it is. Hehe! Tsk!
I got the Health Checks done next.
Now I have cut down on the Furesomide; the BP is creeping up. Well, I think it is, I’m not sure what if means when the Sys and Dia both go up?
Still, not complaining. The fear of Dizzy Dennis returning, this dang bruise making walking difficult, and the feet are top of my worry list this morning. Of course, things can change in an instant. Hehehe!
The wee-wees were thankfully back to an LSWW (Long-Sharp-Wee-Wee) mode this morning. Although the legs were not yet freed of all of the stored fluid. Once again, the spider-veins had mysteriously moved and changed colour and or positions.
The bruise came out looking like a scar on this photo? It doesn’t look anything like so severe to the eye, just the lens of my old Sony camera?
I got with this blog, so I could record things while still fresh in my head.
Then went on to finalise the Wednesday Woes post. Then I made a blog page of Tim Price’s Brilliantly written and composed song titled: “Inchock’s wonderings while he’s wandering through the many streets of Nottingham” This one is with the correct lyrics. I made a mess of the ones I put in my previous blog. Sorry Tim, now you’ve saved the day by giving me the proper wording, I couldn’t wait to get it posted! Cheers, Mate!
I was so pleased with myself in getting it done correctly, at last, I held on to a wee-wee for a while, as I finished it off – Oh dear! Boy am I suffering now! Agony seems the most suitable word! Hehe! Why am I laughing? Still, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun are leaving me alone.
I decided to get one of the pots of the porridge I got yesterday for breakfast with a mug of tea.
I’d like to give a tip for anyone making one of these pots for their brekkers. Don’t squeeze the tub too hard when you pour in the boiling water. Tsk! Klutz!
Went to wash the mug, and my keen powers of observation noticed it had been snowing a tad.
Some snowflakes had lingered on top of the vehicles, rooftops, and the grass, but most of it had melted now.
I got the ablution sorted next. A stand-up wash, with it being too early to use the shower for fear of disturbing my neighbours.
These throwaway Bic razors are getting blunted quick lately? Humph!
I ran out of shaving foam and had a search for the spare one. Took me a few minutes to find the new one.
I took a picture of the pins after cleaning up. They are definitely holding less fluid now. Gone down noticeably. The blue almost circular papsule that had come up on the left leg had gone, leaving signs of it at all?
Also, I didn’t see a single, not one I say! Evil ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle (EIBWBBB) anywhere!
I’d finished the ablutions with time to spare before the hour for the Morrison Delivery arrived. (0830 > 0930hrs). They may be late with the snow perhaps.
09:30hrs, no Morrison delivery yet? I went through the bag to make sure I had all the prizes, nibble, etc. there.
About 09:50hrs, the landline light lit up. It was the poor old Morrison delivery driver saying he’d be arriving in about ten minutes. Which he did. He’s been stuck on the A453 in traffic, and it took him an hour to travel a mile and a half! There are a lot of roadworks going on in that area. True to his work he arrived when he said he would. I have to say, they couldn’t help the traffic, yet they knocked £5 off of my bill and sent me a free can of light ale in with the order, and a sample of six mini-bottles apple juice; which will be nice for me to take the medications with.
I hastened to get the fodder stored away, put the light ale in the bag for an extra nibble for whoever fancied it at the Winwood meeting. Grubbled about checking things were left safe, and off to what was left of the Social Hour.
It was colder than I had expected out on Chestnut Walk. Frost on the road and cars still. The sun was fighting its way through, though.
By the time I got into the hut, there was precious little time left for me to socialise much.
My arrival was not one of the best I’ve had. I’d missed the raffle etc. too. I got the nibbles handed out, but no time to natter much, the box went round and came back almost emptied, but I didn’t get the usual opportunity to take it around and have a gossip as I did so. Jenny, Cyndy, Margaret, Doris, Gaynor, May, Doreen, Beryl, Frank, William, BJ, John and others were all deep in their conversations. But they did seem content enough bless them. And a few laughs were heard, which satisfied my complaisant nature. I had a job getting anyone to take the can of light-ale, Frank obliged me in the end.
As some of the clan left, I got a much-needed chance to have a chinwag with one or two of my amazing fellow-residents at last. Which really made my day, even though it was me who did most of the talking.
When I got back to the apartment, the weariness dawned, and a pang of hunger took hold of me.
I made some overly-well-buttered sandwiches with the last of the polish bread. Tomatoes and the German smoked ham, with the thick crust having cheddar and a few drops of Hoisin sauce on it. Some salad, egg, apple sliced, too. A Limoncello dessert to end with. I must resist this in future!
An A-team episode was on the TV. After watching this, I was determined to make a start on the spare room sorting.
But I fell asleep instead: and didn’t wake up for hours and hours. Tsk!