Inchcock Today – Fri 24 May: Busy long day, so a long diary I’m afraid. A tectonic day, and a sleepless night! Humph!

Friday 24th May 2019

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 24 Mai 2019

03:00hrs. Oh, what a great nights sleep! I woke up, feeling better than I have done in ages. Six hours deep restful slumber, most appreciated. Thanks to Caroline ♥, for her tips on getting to sleep. Although at the time she was telling me, I was somewhat half-not-with-it, she left some printed A4 tips, which I read and used last night. Zzzz… Great, bless yers!

I was in need of a none-urgent (I thought) wee-wee. So I mangled my way out of the £300 second-hand, grotty-pot-marked, c1968, rickety recliner and stood to gain me balance for a moment.

There were no signs of any nocturnal nibbling or nighttime wanderings. But I must have been doing some moving about, for there were tablets, a tube of pain-gel, a pen and a part-filled bottle on spring water laying on the carpet near to the Ottoman? Perhaps I yawned or something and knocked them off? They were not knocked very far, they lie close to the box… (Please note the increase in my analysationistical and investigative capabilities this morning, Hehehe!)

I grabbed the walking stick and went to the kitchen. On entering through the door, my heart fluttered and a feeling of ‘Oh, not again’, rang in my head, as I thought I could hear the tap running! And this without any hearing aids in! (All broke awaiting repair, which is not for two weeks yet, and then a five-week wait for the new inserts to be made, Humph!) I nearly slipped into ‘Moaning Mood Status’ then! However, contrariwise, the hot or cold taps were not running. Phew! But what or where the noise was coming from, I’ve no idea, but it stopped a minute or so later? Another flat 72 Mystery!

A good one this was! I’d got the kettle on for the tea, and as I was washing the mug from last night, the right leg devilishly went into dance-(shaking)-mode. The foot was coming up a good few inches, twisting and slamming down again. If a CCTV camera had been fitted in the kitchen, I imagine it would have looked like a cross between a pregnant overweight baby elephant with three legs trying to dance the hokey pokey, or some poor devil suffering from Sydenham’s chorea (St Vitus). But it only lasted for an entertaining minute or two. I grabbed the counter and let it have its way. Not that I could have stopped it anyway. This reminded me of a week or so ago when this happened. I was at the bus stop on Winchester Street, waiting for the 40 bus. About five other passengers were waiting, who were all taken like I was, by surprise by my sudden impulsive jerking about. When the bus arrived, and we all got on, the other folk all sat as far away from me as they could. The situation was made worse, by my stuttering as I tried to explain why I was seemingly dancing. Tsk!

All calmed down again, and I made the brew, took the medications, including the last of the Nitrofurantoin antibiotic tablets, and did the health checks. Sys 175, Dia 71, Pulse 98, and temperature 35.2°c. With no Carer any more, I can now have a shower at 0700hrs (Okayed by the Tiller Girl and Nottingham City Homes Patch Manager, Angela!), when I do the ablutions later. I’ll struggle with the fresh socks-glide and Ankle-Support-Strapping after the ablutions are finished and done.

Off to the wet room in response to the need for the Porcelain Throne. This was the third movement in over a week now, and a right painful one too! A solid torpedo that amazed me at how it came out at all! This time the blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids was only slight, that was a good thing! I am still taking the Senna, though. At least things are coming at last, but I couldn’t half do with things softening a bit. Haha! No idea why I laughed there?

The morning’s picture of the pins left me a tad concerned. The pale white, cadaverous, almost hoariness of the skin was more acute than ever.

I found the pitiful paleness, ominous… no, that’s not the wording, erm, ill-boding, or baneful perhaps. Certainly not precisely over-hopeful for how things are going. Ah-well, c’est la vie. I think Hehe!

Later, when I put the photos from the card to the computer, I found this picture that had been taken? Another Inchcock’s Flat 72 Mystery!

Finally, I got on with completing the Thursday post. I was in a better frame of mind yesterday, as I am today too, so doing up the draft was a pleasant job this morning. I got it done relatively fast also.

Until the fingers started wobbling, and that slowed me down somewhat. Made a brew (I’ll get one drank, I hope. Haha!) I took a shot of the distant cloudiness that was hiding a lot of the distant view. The shadow in the foreground is from my (Despite all the mess we’ve had for two years of upgrading), beloved Woodthorpe Court.

I created a page Brexit Humour graphic for top for the Inchcock Today, then I made a start on this post next.

Typing was still tricky, as the fingers insisted in acting like they getting an electric-shock each time the ends touched the keyboard. Yet any sensation of making contact was absent? Humph!

I went again to the kitchen, determined to make a brew and get it imbibed this time. Talking of time, I feel the need to add some advice for other Warfarin users;

• Do not take things for granted when washing your tea mug. There may be a pair of scissors in the washing up bowl that you were soaking. The pointy ends of the scissors have a habit of sticking down your fingernails and drawing blood, not good if you are on Warfarin. So try to avoid this scenario, please.

I gave up with making the tea. As it was 0700hrs now, and I opted to get the ablutions sorted, then tackle the sock-glide and the titanic painful struggle to get the Ankle-support strapping on.

Got some shirts and socks in soak for a hand-washing.

Back in a bit, I hope! Hahaha!

The shave and teggie-cleaning were bloodless. (Haha! Smug-Mode-Adopted!) A mid-shave wee-wee proved to be of the SHSNCWW (Short-Hosepipe-Splashing-No-Sensation-Wee-wee)  variety. A rarity!

The shower was enjoyed. Getting dressed was alright, and no problem until I went to fetch the Sock-Glide from the spare room, and stubbed my toes on the four-wheeled-trolley! A couple of silent unmild-oaths were uttered. But getting the long bamboo sock on went well.

I went to the kitchen and titivated the clothes I’d left soaking and drying from the had-wash.

I got the two drying/airing devises out, after wringing out the togs as best I could. It’s incredible how much strength I’ve lost since the stroke.

It’s going to take ages for them to get dry, but never-mind, at least I’m still here to make a mess of it. Haha!

One, the flat one in the kitchen with bowls and paper towels underneath to catch the dripping water. Sad innit?

The stand-up machine in the hallway with the damp extra large shirt and the socks on it. Then, having avoided the task for a while, I tackled the dreaded job of getting the Ankle-Support put on.

But it was no bother or hassle, whatsoever, a piece of cake, simplicity itself, cushty, couldn’t have been easier…. all right then… that might not have strictly been absolutely correct as descriptions go…

This picture of the Ankle-Support-Strapping on my foot does look like it has been achieved successfully alright, and this may be the case indeed.

The fib is in my saying it was no bother. If I could bottle the pain and frustration I used-up in getting the thing on; We could then send it to Jean-Claude Juncker, to show him what pain and frustration really feel like! I would not charge a fee for supplying it!

Lucy from the stroke support team and Clinical Neurosis ladies are calling this morning. So I must catch up on this blog as much as possible, for it may be a long meeting with the neurosis ladies.

Lucy arrived, I had put down the appointment wrongly on the Calendar. Hard to believe I know! Haha! It was just Lucy. Cognitive tests, Memory Tests, Blood taking, and Physio tests all done over the next two days… Well, it felt like it! A nice lady, patient with my waffling and going off track, too! She may see me in a year she said when sadly departing.

11:25hrs. I got ready the three-wheeled-trolley- guide and had a limp down to the shops.

The weather was perfect for a little hobble-out. The three-wheeled trolley has still not been mastered going downhill, though. Hehe!

On the walk down Chestnut Way, the place looked busy today, contractors mostly. I called in the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights Flats, and Administration shed for the Generalleutnantess Wardens Temporary HQ, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Shed. Rumourmongering Clinic. Telling Inchcock off Zone, Things like crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents shed, but nobody was in, so I continued to the end of Chestnut Way and turned to take a shot of Winchester Court and the vehicular obstructions.

Going down Winchester Street, I should have known the name of these wildflowers, after Caroline told me them the other day, but I can’t recall it. Humph! But to me, they are beautiful!

Down in Sherwood, I bought the groceries and the right-size this time, sink plug.

The Big Issue sellers spot had the daughter in the spot today. She only has two mobiles compared to her Mother’s four.

I went to the Ozan food centre. I had a heck of a job getting around with the three-wheeled trolley, up the steps and getting in peoples way. Huh!

I came out with cucumber, two tomatoes, a potato (For Josie and my nosh tomorrow), and a packet of some chicken cooked skinless sausages, with lots of ingredients, but they taste awfully delicious.

Then I hobbled up to the Co-op store. Again, just like last Friday, the shelves looked bare. Well, the fresh food one did.

I spent a lot in there. Baguettes, mini-tomatoes, salad tray and some smoked mackerel, to go with the Cheesy-potatoes on Saturdays shared fodder with Josie.

She says I am her weekend cook. Haha!

Out and across the road up into Aslam’s Post Office shop.

Got disinfectant for the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee bucket). Now the Nitrofurantoin antibiotics are finished, I expect that the frequent, everyone-different wee-wees will return. A bottle of spring water. 

And the most disappointing loaf of Polish Sourdough I’ve ever had! In fact, looking at the picture, I may well have bought the wrong bread altogether. It was dry and tasteless. Eurgh! Hey-ho!

Back across the road and into the Wilko store. Where I got an air-freshener, sink plug (the right size this time) and some more liquid soapflakes for the hand-washing. Paid up, and made my way up the hill to the Dentist to confirm the appointment for a check-up.

The feet and toes were getting painful, and I was limping badly now. I think that the earlier stubbing of the toes has caused a problem.

As I limped rather embarrassingly up Mansfield Road, just before Hood Street, I stopped to allow the foot and toe-pain to ease.

It took a good while to ease off. And for some reason, I was amused at some poor devil of the motorist who was struggling herself, to get out of Hood Street to turn right up Mansfield Road.

I almost gave a cheer of congratulation out loud, when after I don ‘t know how long, she eventually got out. I wondered how much petrol had been used up in that one manoeuvre? Ah, well! Just thought I’d mention it, after my taking the pictures.

I got to the dentist near the bus stop, and as luck would have it, Christine and her hubby were standing outside. I asked them to keep an eye on my trolley; then struggled up the steep step into the hallway then, to the reception. Apparently, they have sent me a letter telling me the appointment has to be changed as the technician (not Dentist?) was not available on that day. She gave me a new date, Tuesday 28th May 2019. I must remember to put this in the Google Calendar.

I added about the stroke and Warfarin, asking that he does not do any work that is not absolutely needed. She gave a head-moving smirk and said: “None of our technicians do that!” I replied: “You’re talking to someone who knows different. His skill in banging in his screwdriver to make a cavity is well known to those patients who have moved surgery after paying out!” I laughed. The look on her face – I should have shrivelled up and died, really! Hehehe! I departed and joined Christine and hubby. A natter of sorts was had. Getting on the bus, only one seat remained a side-saddle, which of course with the trolley, was fine.

Back up to the flats in the bus, a quick hello with some residents waiting to get on the vehicle, after I all but fell with the trolley getting off. Then limped, no, really limped, with Christine back to the flats.

When I got inside, many letters had been delivered.

One from the dentists was telling me about the need to reset the appointment.

The INR Anticoagulation & Deep-Vein Thrombosis Clinic results and dosages for the week.

I needed to take a look at the pins and feet; they were giving me agony now.

I got the Ankle-Support-Strapping off and got some immediate pain relief from the feet and toes.

Not a pretty sight. The area stubbed earlier had left some scratches/bruises. The wear-blotches were from the Ankle Support Strapping and shoes. The long overdue nail cutting was adding to the discomfort. The big toe is moving behind the next toe, worryingly like Sister Jane’s is doing, though nowhere near as advanced or corrupt yet. But she has her eye problem that has taken precedence now, bless her.

Called at Josie’s to see when she wanted her nosh tomorrow and if she like Smoked Mackerel, but no answer.

After a one-off LHBLWW (Long Hosepipe-Blasting like Wee-wee), I got the purchases away, and the nosh prepared.

I sorted the evening medications into a pot. Jane rang while I was sorting the tablets out. We had a good chinwag. Afterwards, I started the medication pots again, in case I got anything wrong with stopping half-way through.

Took the night medications, a little earlier than I should have, but at least I won’t forget to take them now.

Got the fodder sorted and prepared. I didn’t eat all of it this time. Mainly because the Polish sourdough sliced bread was nothing like it usually tastes. It was bland and dry. Bit of a cock-up at the bakery, or is it me?

The chicken & vegetable flavour skinless sausages were sweet, though. Flavour Rating (Not counting the Sourdough bread) was 7/10 – Counting the bread: 2.5/10. Tsk!

Did the washing up, and settled into the c1968 rickety recliner. Eating and watching the TV at the same time now. I was tickled pink to see that an hour programme called ‘Dusty Springfield at the BBC’, was on BBC 4… but it didn’t start until 21:00hrs. Oh, dear! I dilly-dallied, equivocated and fence-straddled over whether to stay-up-to watch it. My vacillating is getting worse lately.

As it happened, there was no getting to sleep anyway. So I watched the programme. How disappointing it was, though. Cover songs and a few newer ones, but none of her good stuff at all! An old one of the Springfields doing a version of Wimoweh was interesting. A lot of time was spent about her work in the USA, and the sad Pet Shop Boys with Dusty. A duet with a young Tom Jones, in there. All crap!

Although I felt annoyed that I’d stayed up late (for me) to watch it, really I had no choice, because sleep was still not an option even after the programme had finished.

Plenty of repeated bouts of leg cramps, and a few SWWWs (Short-weak-wee-wees), ensured it was hours before I managed to nod off. The mind was doing its toying with me, fears, worries, past errors, even uncomfortable, thorny memories from my childhood joined it the stampede of uncherished thoughts from so many years ago; especially some wrong choices I have made. No chance of any kip, really.

I pondered on whether I should wear the Ankle-Support in the morning, then remembered it needed washing tonight. I’ll do it in the mornings along with a shirt and socks… anything but sleep!