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Tuesday 12th March 2019

Sudanese: Salasa 12 Maret 2019

23:15hrs. I had to laugh at my self; I must admit, waking up and moving straight away, enforced by the demand for the Porcelain Throne needs, was almost comical. Following last night’s Accifauxpa with the stepladder, there were not many parts of my Brobdingnagian body that didn’t have an ache or pain somewhere! Things were exacerbated by the pins (legs) now fluid-filled again, and not in a mood to be moved or used without offering up some pain to discourage me from using them! But, needs must. So I hobbled uncomfortably to the wet room.

The evacuation took second place to the photographicalisationing of the pins for posterity and the leg ulcer clinic. The pale, bloodless legs and bloated with water, had made the skin look polished, yet very-pale and bloodless!

The liquid inside had even removed most of the warped mangled clumps of skin from both patellas! I think one mark is a little bruising from the fall. The feet felt like I was walking painfully on sponges, causing a little difficulty in keeping balance for a while until I got used to it! This reminded me of the first time I wore Brothel-Creepers back in the day, but with more pain! Hehehe! The right elbow was a bit stiff. The left wrist had a bruise. The right shoulder and back of the neck ached a bit. The few of the right and left ribs felt a bit achy, too. However, putting up with this seemed little to pay for the absence of Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Shaking Shaun, Reflux Roger, Arthur Itis, and even Dizzy Dennis was leaving me alone!

I’ve only waited six weeks for my appointment with the ulcer clinic, and hope they can change the date they gave me that falls on another appointment day at the GUM clinic, and my much missed Winwood Social Hours. But of course, they will not be able to bring it forward to alter it so I can expect to be being tended to in around three weeks, making a waiting time of roughly nine weeks.

The leg actual leg ulcer has almost cleared up entirely! I had to abandon my efforts to change the socks, as I could not bend the fluid-filled legs far enough to take them off! I got one sock half off, and had just to get it back on, roll it up; and that was almost excruciating!

Methinks that any more cleaning up and sorting out of the kitchen, may not get done. But, you never know, if I take the Furesomides and extra pain-killer with the medications later, things might improve sufficiently to allow me to have another go at it. The ultimate in furustrationalisticalness this is. And Sister Jane will not be happy the sorting out is not getting done. Not that she frightens me of course. More sort of scares the pants off of me with her tremendously good logic! Hehehe!

I got carried away there! The evacuation was easy-peasy and not messy at all. Did the medicating and washed-up. Then, I limped extra-carefully to the kitchen to get the Health Checks done.

The sys and Dia were down a bit. Most noticeable was the fall in temperature, though, it’s tumbling down so far, this week. Monday: 34.8°- 34.7°-34.6° this morning, 34.2°, If this keeps on, I’ll mention it to someone at the surgery or call 111 and ask if this is okay. Mind you, it did feel so cold this morning.

As I got with starting the updating of the Monday post, I had to return to the Porcelain Throne again. And, once more, it was an easy-pain-free evacuation. But I could sense that Harold’s Haemorrhoids were starting to sting, but had bled only a smidgeon, nothing much at all.

Back to the computerisationing. Achieved the goal of finishing it, and sent it off.

I began to do this blog, and a third call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. This time, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were stinging away. Not surprisingly with so many visits being needed, this morning. I cleaned things and applied some of the Care relief cream, generously.

I was amazed at how the legs had become so much less fluid-filled suddenly. It baffled me! The pins were undoubtedly less-bloated now. I could tell because the knee-cap picture outlines, wrinkles, and warping had returned. Detail is being shown up more. And the spider veins could be seen much clearer, too. Also, one leg was showing as being fatter than the other again, now?

What’s going on here? Tsk!

Damned good job I’d forgot to take the medications when I did the Health Checks, or I would have taken a Furesomide, phew! So, I took the belated tablets and medicines next.

Then went on the WordPress Reader.

The intercom chimed up, it was the Morrison order that I’d forgotten all about coming, and did the shopping yesterday! Oy Vey, what a Klutz!

The kind lady put the bags inside for me.

I took them through to the bomb-site… I mean, kitchen, and started to sort them out and into wherever they would go, mostly on the floor with the other stuff I have not cleaned the cupboards for yet.

I now have got a never-before so cram-packed fridge and freezer!

I got back to the computer and doing this blog, and guess what?

I pottered about getting the nibbles to take for the Sturmbannführeress Warden/Guards around 08:30hrs when I inquire about the leg ulcer appointment.

Back to doing this page.

I collected the nibble-treats and made way to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights Flats, and Administration shed for the Generalleutnantess Wardens Temporary HQ, Tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisation Shed. Rumourmongering Clinic. Telling Inchcock off Zone, Operations Bunker for the Keep our Hourly weekday buses running. Things like crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents hut.

Entering the shed door, I banged my left arm right where banged it yesterday on my tumble from the ladder. It is now worse than ever pain-wise, but I cannot see any bruising yet?  Riechsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden/Guard Deana told me she had not heard anything from the Health Centre Leg Ulcer Clinic about the appointment yet. Shame. Still, the sourdough bread and nibbles were welcomed.

I took these photographs as I walked back to the flat.

 

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Going in I noticed that a machine was free in the laundry room. So I shot up (Not the best of choice of wording, Hehe!) Got the washing and back down to get the washer going.

The feed drawers were covered with liquid soap, and the freshener drawer had soap powder caked on it, as well as the floor beneath (Right). I tried my best clean out the soap powder from the freshener tray, got most of it off.

I met Mary on her way out as  I returned to the flat. She still hadn’t when she can move into her new flat at Sneinton.

Up and did some updating on this blog, then down to move the togs into the dryer. Elizabeth and Penny were in the lift when I went down. They were concerned with the high winds, as I was for them.

The filter was clogged up and not been emptied, so I did that. I was not up cleaning the floor or casing of the washer I’d used, but I wiped the drum and had another go at the caked-on soap powder on top of the machine and drawers again.

Back up the in the lift. Both were working today. When I got into the flat, I realise how few wee-wees I’d had up to now today.

The left lower arm, still showing no signs of bruising as far as I can see was now my main hassle ailment-wise. It hurts when I lift the limb up, lift anything (even a one-litre bottle of bleach) or stretch. I reckon its just bruising, but as I say, I can’t see any blue on the arm? Another 72 Woodthorpe Court mystery. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of outer space & the spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! Hahaha!

Typical, I just had another look when I typed the above. Looks like I was premature, I think a bruise is coming out now. Well, it’s only fair, if one has pain, it’s nice to see what it is causing it. Hehehe!

Please note the Charity-shop-bought £2 watch with the £10 strap now attached, has not been lost again.

Hello, sounds like the fire sprinkler blokes are working next door methinks, judging by the drilling noises. Knocking ones now. Then back to drilling.

Apart from the arm and swollen feet, I was feeling a little perkier now. So I went onto the Facebook page to update the picture albums and visit the TFZer site.

The sound of the workers has steadied up. The weather was now wet and windy. But it doesn’t stop the lads working outside!

Went to make a mug of tea. ‘Oh ‘eck!’ I was so involved in and enjoying doing the Facebooking, I forgot all about collecting the laundry! So, I sped along at my bestest rate down to the machine. As luck would have it, no one had wanted the machine. Phew! I folded the clothes and wiped the machine and emptied the filter, and back up to my mug of tea. En route, I cursed my stupidity, using self-reprimandical names, such as pillock, dim-witted schlub, twit, clot, Bozzo, Chaim-yankel, Idiot, fool, dunderhead, klutz imbecile, moron and nebekh. I’ll not mention the stronger words I called myself.

I got the clothes, there were not many of them, into the airing cupboard and topped the tea up with a drop of boiling water, and got back on the computer to update things.

The arm’s still stinging, but the legs seem to be thinning fluid-wise, although the joints are refusing to bend without giving me some stick? It’s all a mystery to me. I think it is to the medical people as well!

I rubbed some pain-gel on the arm and took this picture. Showing Cavendish Rise, in the rain. I was somewhat satisfied with how this one came out.

Smug-Mode-Adopted. Hahaha!

Back to the Facebooking again. I enjoyed that. Better get my lamb hock in minted gravy in the oven, now.

I served up the minted lamb-hock and mushrooms in baked beans. Some sourdough bread to go with it, and ate it all up. The lamb was not the best I’ve ever had, so only 6/10 for the taste-rating o this one.

Did the Health Checks. Very few wee-wees needed today, another mystery.

I got down on the £300 second-hand, rickety ci1968 recliner, and listened to some Acker Bilk and Ken Colyer jazz on CD.

Nodded off, and had a dream about an army in blue uniforms walking on water (The Channel?) firing at me, the only person on a beach. I had a pea-shooter and catapult; in which I was catapulting dried peas at the thousands of soldiers who were shooting muskets at me? I was hit hundreds of times and lost an arm. I can’t recall much then until it seems to me that the dream ended with the soldiers all around a ‘Pick-a-Duck’ for a prize stall, and I was running the place, and charging threepence a go?

I woke up with a start. The dream could not have lasted long, although much happened in it, cause the jazz CD as still coming through the headphones. I soon nodded off again.