Inchcock Today – Mon 11 Mar 2019: Bad start, fair middle, sad end for today. Ah, well, Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit, as they say.

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2019 Mar 09

Monday 11th March 2019

Swedish: Måndag 11 mars 2019

WD 200.0.0 00:05hrs. I woke, in what I can only describe as with a stinking attitude and demeanour. It had to be said! It was as if someone else was controlling my thoughts. And those were a mixed bag of fears and apprehensiveness, littered with feelings of sybylline foreboding.  Naturally, I hoped these sensations would go away. Which they did later.

I lay there pondering on the quotidian tasks that are ahead. The thoughts flowed into my poor brain: Blood test at 09:00hrs. I’ll have to leave flat by 08:00hrs to walk to surgery in time. Must get the ablutions and medications started at 07:00hrs. Don’t forget to check with Kamp Kommander Warden Deana later, to see if any message about the leg ulcer treatment appointment has arrived. Remember to ask the doctors for a sample tube. How will Brexit affect us all? Must get some bread from Aldi, later. Why are both of my legs hanging over the arm of the £300 second-hand recliner with no jammies on?

1Mon02WD 200.0.0 The legs needed my concentration and determination to get down off of the chair. I was fortunate in that Arthur Itis was not active. Although the odd, warped swellings underneath the patella were a smidge painful. The legs looked particularly ashen. At least they looked a lot more balanced colourwise, and the fluids had gone down a great deal. Overall, things went better than I could have hoped for. Which was worrying, me having something go well – it’s not natural you know! Hahaha!

Off to the wet room. Decent evacuation, only a smidge of bleeding from the rear, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion as well. Can this good news continue?

Got the Health Checks done, and got on the computer to create the Excel record for last week and today.

1Mon01a

Got the Sunday diary updated and finished, then sent off to WordPress.

1Mon06Went to make a brew, an discovered that the fridge-freezer had developed a concerning noise. A sort of faint cough (Splutt), followed immediately by a dull clunk-clunk! It reminded me of a similar sound that the hot-water-geyser gave out in the flat I was living in around 1966. The one I got thrown out of, due to the amorous attentions of the landladies daughter. Humph!

Had some cornflakes for brekkers, that last of them. Must get some more when I go out.

Visited the WP Reader section, and made a Willmott Dixon album on my Pinterest page.

Sorted the paperwork, nibbles and accoutrements needed for the blood test.

1Mon07Then got the ablutions tended to. Too early to use the waste chute when I left. But I did take down a white bag of recyclables and put it near the caretaker’s door. Walked along Chestnut Way to the end and stopped, turning back to take this picture of the Windwood Heights complex. The weather was looking a bit gloomy, a nip in the air, too.

1Mon07aBut, I was feeling so good at getting out and about after such a long time. I got a move on to keep off the cold, faster than I should have really, cause Back-Pain-Brenda kicked off before I got to the bottom of Winchester Street. Tsk!

1Mon07cWD 200.0.0 A git of a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist belted by me from behind and brushed against my shoulder. I shouted something derogatory to the anti-social scum-bag, but he wouldn’t have heard me, he was going that fast. May his testicles slowly rot in revenge!

1Mon07dBy the time I got near the top of the hill, the traffic was beginning to build up.

The sun was coming out and going in a bit often. Not that it had much heat to it, but it looked nice.

It dawned on me, how well I was doing with the ailments at this time. Only Back-Pain-1Mon08Brenda was bothering me. Good, this is! 

As I went down the other side of the hill into Carrington, I spotted some beautiful flowers on a bush in a garden. No idea what they are called, but they were very appealling to the eye. It made me wonder at nature, and fear for the future of my fellow tellurians.

1Mon09A few hundred yards from the surgery, I came across this piece of Nottinghamian Street Art.

It looked like the artist had used a broken breeze block, and some paint and shredded paper to get his desired result. Well, it beats that Tate Gallery display of a pile of bricks claiming to me art! By the American (claimed artist) Carl Andre. Huh!

“Seldom has the 1Mon14subject of masonry ignited such passion. Yet the explosion of interest that surrounded the Tate Gallery’s exhibition of US artist Carl Andre’s Equivalent VIII, better known as The Bricks, triggered a national debate. Purchased by the Tate for £2,297 in 1972 and exhibited!”

I got in the surgery and logged on with the receptionist, sat down and got out the crossword book to do while waiting for my 0900hr appointment with the nurse. After a long time struggling with the puzzles, it dawned on me how late it was, 0920hrs. I continued to fail to get any more clues solved for a while; until I heard the most welcoming voice of Nurse Nichole calling me.

Instantly cheered, I followed her to the treatment room. It is lovely to have someone who is so lovely and shows an interest outwardly in her patients. We chatted while she took the blood. I handed some nibbles to Nurse Nichole and went to drop some off for the reception team on my way out. I found Nurse Ann there, so gave her a pouch of dog treats for her beloved lady dog.

Out and walked to the Lidl store to get some bread. Noticing how much colder it felt now, than on the walk to the surgery. Brr!

Shopped and I got to the self-serve checkout, with part-baked bread rolls, a small sourdough boule loaf, onions, vine tomatoes, and some Strawberries to treat Obergruppenführeress Kamp Commandant and Opera Singer Deana to, for her help with the appointment ringing to sort out for me. This activity, was watched over by a Lidl employee who never took his eyes off of me? Hehe!

1Mon09aOut to the bus stop to get to Sherwood, and I swear it was even colder out now.

WD 200.0.0 I spotted the advertisement at the end of the bus shelter. CV-Library, I registered with them many donkeys of years ago when I was made redundant at Sawley Security. I never heard from them again. This notice bought on a few minutes of 1Mon10reliving sad memories, as I stood to wait for the bus. But the daydreaming didn’t last long, thanks to a lady who trod on my corn foot as she entered the shelter. The sky with its fast-moving clouds looked beautiful.

WD 200.0.0 I got to Sherwood and called in Abdul’s shop to get shortchanged, overcharged or both. I got Highland Shorties, two packets of whiskey bbq crisps for the nibble box, and a bag of licorice allsorts for myself. Inexplicably, I also bought a large loaf of the Polish sliced sourdough bread – why, after just purchasing the boule at Lidl, beats me! Abdul overcharged full price for the crisps that were on offer. Nothing unusual there then, apart from my not noticing until it was too late! Klutz!

Crossed over the pelican-lights and walked around the two rough-looking young beggars sat outside the shops with their dogs, fags and mobile phones, and got into the Wilko store. I came out with some liquid-soap flakes and fragrance booster. Walked the long circular way back, avoiding the young scroungers again, and up the road to the bus stop to catch the L9 back to the flats. I was surprised by the many young ladies who stopped to talk to and donate money to the lads. My EQ tells me they were are dodgy. Not that I feel superior to, or hate them in any way, just suspicious, thanks to my usually right EQ! 

I had a chinwag with the resident at the shelter. Lamenting the cutting of the bus service mostly, but expecting the petition will have no effect on the Nottingham City Councils decision, and will go ahead anyway. The Tory Party ensuing their Fiscal Austerity policy, while cocking up Brexit for ulterior motives, will ensure that older folk and immigrants have no protection. Just look at the Conservative-controlled Kensington and Chelsea Council, and their actions and decisions in ignoring warnings from tenants, fire brigade and safety regulations, financial cutbacks, etc. allowed, almost encouraged the Grenfell Tower disaster.

We arrived at our Winwood Heights (soon be almost busless) Complex. I called in the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Crockery and pottery to be stolen from location, and r1Mon11esidents porta-cabin. No one was about. So I could not ask about the appointment activity for the Leg-Ulcer clinic, nor hand over the strawberries or bread.

So, out and on, back to my beloved Woodthorpe Court. 

I met Mo in the foyer, and stopped for 1Mon13schmooze and laugh with her.

Up to the flat, had a weak wee-wee, and changed the PPs, to a clean, bloodless pair. Hehe!

The pins (legs) were filling up with fluid again, but this meant the warped knees as well, so I’ve lost the outlines of chickens and faces in them. Hee-hee!

I did the Health Checks and took the medications.

2017b I had a go at sorting the bottom cupboard out again. But the fluid in the legs stopped this activity within minutes; the bending was just too painful.

WD 200.0.0 So, I thought, I’d try to get at least one cupboard top cleared and cleaned, with I can smugly say, I did manage. (Well, emptied anyway) I can also add, ashamedly and embarrassingly, right at the end, coming down from the step ladder, I tumbled backward off of it, taking it with me. I sort of bounced off of the heater, landing luckily in the corner near the window, thus missing any sharp bits. I did lay for a moment assessing things. But at no time did I consider using the alarm wristlet. Amazingly, apart from the odd bruise, and agony from the legs and knees, I seemed in good fettle. I rose up shakily. Feeling such a clumsy old fool. A right schlimazel! The kitchen now looked worse than ever! The bottles from the bottom cupboard were scattered all over, the things from the top were mixed in the other rubbish on the floor, the step ladder looked sad as it rested over against the waste bins, and I’d knocked some stuff off of the window ledge. Ah well, must get it looking better tomorrow. Humph!

I got some potato slices in the oven. Sliced some sourdough french bread and buttered it thickly. Added some onions and sliced some tomatoes on the plate ready.

WD 200.0.0 The body had various parts beginning to stiffen now after the fall. Then that well-known to me wet warm sensation started from the fungal lesion. (Obviously, the parting of the ways with the stepladder had affected things more than I had thought at first). Off to the shower room, cleaned and medicated the lesion, and adorned another pair of PPs put on.

1Mon12I did the last Health Checks and got the nosh served up.

Taste Rating for this effort was a worthy 8.2/10. Flavoursome!

I got settled in the ci 1968 old recliner. But getting into a comfortable position was not easy. The aches and pains from the fall were showing up now. But, my tiredness overcame them, and I fell into a blissful, wee-wee-uninterrupted kip! Zzzz!

2 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Mon 11 Mar 2019: Bad start, fair middle, sad end for today. Ah, well, Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit, as they say.

  1. The first photo of your legs looks a bit colorized. Nice you got to see Nurse Nichole. Isn’t it funny how things long gone from memory like CVLibrary show up all of a sudden, and drag the old brain in the reminiscent mode? Decently arranged dinner you came up with. Nice it got a B+ rating.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think I took one leg photo in the kitchen the other in the wet room, so with no window in the wet room, maybe that’s part of why the came out so different. Mind you, the fluid filling up so quickly again now, so maybe less faces to be seen in the knees? I’ll miss them if so. Hahaha!
      It is odd how things bring back memories so easily. Mostly those I don’t want to bring back, though. Tsk!
      Cheers, Tim, thanks.

      Liked by 1 person

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