Monday 18th March 2019
Maori: Rāhina 18 o Maehe 2019
23:45hrs. There was obluctation from the body when the brain told me to get up. Not because of the ailments, just a general reluctance to rise and face whatever the day held for me. I didn’t move for a few minutes, despite a wee-wee demanding me to.
I pondered: The visit today for the blood test, must get some work done on sorting out the kitchen, I’ll take a walk to the Mary Potter Health Clinic to make sure I know where it is and the layout for Thursday’s Leg Ulcer appointment. Buy some bread. Don’t forget to take the nibble treats for the medical staff. The shower tiles need cleaning… thankfully, many of these brave, but rejectionable ideas faded, and I rose to get the wee-wee tended to. Hardly needed to have bothered, it was just a weak trickle.
I had a check of the pins (legs) while in the wet room. The knees looked better than they have for ages. The remnant of the leg ulcer had cleared up even more, and the fluid retention has gone down a lot. Tsk! I’m going to look a right clot when I go to the centre on Thursday, with legs that will look like there is nothing wrong with them!
The mind was a little vague this morning, concentrating was not easy. Off to the kitchen to do the Health Checks.
Where I found last nights medicine pot with the tablets still inside, I’d missed taking them. Klutz! I just imbibed the Warfarin and Magnesium along with the morning doses.
Made a brew of tea, and got on with updating yesterday’s blog. Finished, I sent it off to WordPress.
Visited the Porcelain Throne. A somewhat reluctant evacuation, still a messy one though. Read a bit of the Victoria Wood biography while I waited for the movement.
Got the ablutions sorted out. Although the legs looked less blown-up, it was another battle to lift the still heavy things enough to get the PPs and socks on? Made sure the HC readings and INR Dose sheet were in the pocket.
I thought I’d have a hobble into town after the limp to Carrington and the Doctors. I took the second Medications, in case I am not home in time. Checked that the nibbles were already in the bag.
08:06hrs: I set off out into the not too bad looking morning, dropping off the bag of recyclables near the caretaker’s door.
Made my way through the maze of works on Chestnut Way.
The spirits sank an iota when a Paramedic Response car came on site, passed me by and went to Woodthorpe Court!
I pressed a smidge despondently along to the end of the Way and turned right down Winchester Street.
The sky looked to me, to be beautiful if a tad threatening.
I walked down the hill, with the mind having one of its storming sessions. Worries, fears, hopes, needs all fighting each other to get prominence of place in my poor demented brain’s acknowledgement department, that was struggling to cope before the brainstorm began! Huh! I certainly did not want to put up with conceptualising, or even recognising my problems at that moment!
I got an immediate release from the worries when I got onto Mansfield Road and began to walk up the hill. An uncaring, antisocial, inconsiderate, antagonistic, indifferent, animal of a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist passed by far too close-to-me, and sped off, weaving around other pedestrians at speed. The scumbag was probably unaware of the results of his threatening and illegal (but no one is interested) actions affected others. Fehl!
A couple of hundred yards further up the hill, and another Scumbag Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist flew by me.I’m afraid this one got to me, he was even closer to hitting me, and let out a verbal utterance, “Go forth and multiply!” but using fewer words. Luckily, I was wise enough to speak in a voice that ensured he could not hear me, just to avoid the fit young man doing so, and knocking the-hell out of me. Hehe! I was momentarily cheered when I saw the car pulling out of a driveway, and immediately prayed that it would hit the primate riding the bike. But, no such luck! Tsk!
Over the brow of the hill and down the hill into Carrington. I got in the Sherringham Park Medical Practice, and being in plenty of time for what I thought was my 09:00hrs appointment, and, having hobbled there in less than 55 minutes, I felt almost proud of myself and adopted my ‘Smug-Mode!’
The look the young receptionist gave me, you know, that sort of sideways glance, assisted by the unspoken, ‘Poor old fart’, expression! Followed by her sympathetic sounding words; “Oh, Mr Chambers, you will have a long wait, your appointment isn’t until 0950hrs with Nurse Ann!” As the realisation that I’d boobed again sank in, I found myself replying, nonchalantly, “No problem, I have my crossword book with me”. I smiled weakly, as the self-chastising words in my head burst forth, making me feel such a fool. A right Schlub!
I got seated and doing the puzzles. But only for about five minutes or so, and my beloved Nurse Nichole arrived and called out my name. She had seen my name come up when I logged in at the reception on the computer, and her next patient had not yet arrived, so she could hurriedly fit me in for the blood taking, to save me waiting. Now, this kind of lovely action brought me back to a much better mood! How thoughtful she is ♥. She took the blood in record time, still managing to natter to me a little, which was also appreciated. I asked her about the name of the thing I have to ask for at the Mary Potter Leg- Ulcer Clinic on Thursday. It was a ‘Glide’. I handed out the nibbles, and thanked everyone, and departed. Setting off on the second and longest part of the marathon hobble, into the city.
Just by the traffic island junction with Gregory Boulevard, I spotted some new life forcing its way through in the hedging. Bootiful!
As I tackled the steepest part of Mansfield Road, passing the Rock Cemetery, the feet, not the legs, began to become my most painful problem. Gawd, they were stinging, even the toes! But I did nit at this time regret making the marathon hobble. I felt with my not getting any decent walks in for ages, it was needed. It was only the plates-of-meat that complained about it. Hehe!
I veered off down Huntingdon Street and called in the Lidl store. Where I bought a Melton Mowbray pork pie, German-Smoked cooked meat, part-baked sourdough baguettes, chicken thighs and remembered to get some cornflakes this time. Paid the lady at the checkout, and left to go on a walk-about to take some photographs of the older parts of Nottingham. But the feet objected, so I changed plans, and made my way directly towards the L9 bus stop on Queen Street.
I swear the toosies were getting so bad now, I must have looked like aright cripple to anyone watching me. Wish I’d taken the stick with me now… but that’s me all over, wishing I had done something different. Humph!
As I limped by the end of Clinton Street, I had never seen so few people walking through it in my life ever! It looked rather sad, really.
I ambled along Upper Parliament Street, and many Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists were spotted. But taking any photographicalisation would have meant stopping and starting walking again, and I thought the feet would not like this. Oh, dearie me, they were playing up! That should teach me not to miss having walks regularly whenever I can.
I was the only passenger to get on the L9 bus. IT felt a smidge eerie, cause usually there would be a good few others waiting, including some of the Winwood Heights residents, but not today.
At the Victoria Centre bus stop, about twelve did get one, including Elizabeth from the flats. We had a little chinwag, and she told me off for doing the walking, and not demanding better service from the medical people. A right character she is, we all love her to bits.
Arriving back at the flats, with my feet not being in good condition, I got off of the bus last, so as not to delay anyone who might be in need of a wee-wee, up. Haha!
Lizzie had shot off ahead by the time I got off. But I gritted my teeth at the pain and managed to take these photographs as I hobbled on and caught up with her. Note the proximity of the roller near the barriers that form our old folk’s temporary footpath, complete with metal legs as obstacles to trip over and the lack of room. Just thought I’d mention it.
We had a good laugh and chinwag and moan en route and in the lift. I like the colour of Elizabeth’s coat. Said our farewells as I got off and Lizzie went up another floor to her flat.
I got in the apartment and set about doing my best to ease the pain from the feet. What a good idea, I thought!
If you had seen the performance in my trying to apply the Surgical Spirit to the feet, you would have thought of a scene from ‘Faulty Towers’ or ‘Some Mother Do Have Them”. I probably went through much more pain applying the mixture, as any pain it might have eased on the feet! In fact, I had to use the picker-upperer stick to affect where I could not reach (which was about 90% of the limbs), I ended up cutting a toe with the edge of the grabber! I spent over an hour doing it, and felt much worse than when I started the job! What a Schmuck of a Zeyde!
My body, mind, concentration and outlook faded fast. I did the Health Checks and took the medication, and got the nosh prepared while I was still awake. The weariness increased abruptly. Humph!
The meal was made up of two flat-bottomed buttered tomato cobs, Marmite crisps and cheese buttons, yellow and orange mini-tomatoes, chicken thighs and the last of the mini-chicken sausages. I enjoyed the flavour of this effort, but the tiredness and exhaustion I felt, meant I did not eat it all.
In fact, I fell asleep eating it, waking up some hours later. Moved the amazingly unspilt tray to the side, and drifted off again. Zzz!