Sunday 17th March 2019
Finnish: Sunnuntai 17. maaliskuuta 2019
00:00hrs. This mornings expergefactor’s were a dream I’d been having, and the assumed need to use the Porcelain Throne. Here’s how it went;
- I woke, still worried that I could not get the mobile phone, that was shaped like a battery charger to work. A young motorcyclist had come off of his bike, on a dark, lonely city side-street. I wanted to call for help because he had fallen down a lidless man-hole, bike and all! (in the nightmare) That’s all I can recall, but I think the frustration of the dream might have continued into my reality for a moment or two.
- As my uhtceare about the dream faded, a rather violent rumbling and grumbling from the innards, convinced me to escape the £300 second-hand recliner with all haste and get to the wet room. (Knocked my leg ulcer against the corner of the ottoman, in doing so, Humph!)
- I hurriedly settled on the seat, expecting instant movement; but all that came was wind and a foetid, unfit for human sniffing at pong! I’d left the old camera in the wet room, so I took a shot of the pins (legs) to see what sort of state they were in now. Back into the second-hand £300 recliner. Zzzz!
- 00:40hrs, I stirred again, even more, convinced that the Throne was needed more than ever. I got out of the ci1968 rickety recliner with ease and shuffled to the wet room. The ‘aroma’ of the previous visit greeted me, and as once again the wind and scent escaped, but nothing of a solid nature was moved! Disappointed a tad, I cleaned up and went to make a mug of tea. Took another shot of the pins… mainly because I’d forgotten that I took one earlier. Tsk! Got my head down again.
- 01:35hrs, I awakened again, with the exact same sensations regarding the urgency of the call to the Porcelain Throne. I escaped the clutches of the £300 second-hand, ci1968 rusty, rickety recliner with little bother. No false alarm this time. The innards decided they would give me the longest and biggest evacuation in donkeys-years! Not a messy one, but the haemorrhoids were bleeding profusely with it. Tsk! The pins looked to have gained some red patches since the last picture I took. The retained fluid seems to have gone down well, mind. The darned knees were still as stiff and painful to bend as ever.
02:05hrs. I decided to give up on getting any more sleep and got the Health Checks sorted out.
A lot of change in this morning’s results. Just like with the legs from one day to the next. Hehehe!
I was washing (well, drying) the new China mug, and it slipped out of my hands. But somehow I was quick enough to catch it before it hit the floor. Smug-Mode-Adopted! Then, I needed my first solo wee-wee of the day. It was a UWTWW (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wee. [As were all following ones]) Despite my taking a Furosemide yesterday as well. With the legs looking less swollen, I decided not to take any more of the loop diuretic tablets. Although of course, they are not only for fluid retention, they also treat the high blood pressure (hypertension), in conjunction with the Ramipril. (I just looked this up on Google!) So, I’m not sure if I made the right choice or not. Nothing new here!
I made a start on this blog before I forgot all that had occurred. Then went on to updating the Saturday post. Got it finished and sent off.
Made another brew and tool this picture from the unwanted light & view blocking, impossible to get to, to clean new windows. Those partly hidden clouds were sending down some drizzle.
05:30hrs now, and still no more wee-wees? I put a couple of photographs on Pinterest, then went on the WordPress reader. Again, there was some interesting stuff on there.
I put some photos on the Facebook Albums and visited the TFZer site.
Guess what, Humph!
Did the early Health Checks while I killed-time. while Mr Fries internet was down.
When it came back on, I made a ‘Thoughts’ graphic or two.
Got the chips on the oven, I’ll add the sausages later so they should both be cooked at the same time.
Got the plate served up, got comfy in the £300 second-hand recliner and started to imbibe the meal.
The phone light flashed. Doesn’t surprise me, I’ll be on the throne, on top of the stepladder, eating, medicationalising, or just about to go out of the door, when this happens.
T’was Sister Jane for a natter. Which I enjoyed as the dinner got colder and colder.
I put it down to Jane’s techno-wizard hubby, Pete. And his installing covert CCTV cameras all over the apartment last time he called, so they can pick the most inconvenient, bothersome, awkward times to ring me. A Cunning Planner, he is! Only joking, Hehehe! I think my telling them about my ‘Will’ might have been a mistake as well. Haha!
I got back down and finished the algid meal. But it didn’t matter much, the audio-chinwagging to someone was more important to me.
I realised how few wee-wees I’d had today.
I put down the tray, to watch ‘My Cat from Hell’. I didn’t get as far as the first commercial break before I’d drifted off… Zzzz!