Wednesday 5th June 2019
Welsh: Dydd: Mercher 5ed Mehefin 2019
23:20hrs: I sprang awake, in grave need of a wee-wee. No time to faffle-about or for my aboulomania! I freed myself from the £300 second-hand, c1968, gungy-beige, tatty, beloved, rickey rusty recliner and gained my balance; taking care not to do any more toe stubbing! As I made my way to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), the pain from the previously nastily-stubbed toe seemed a lot less, But then, I had not been wearing the Ankle Support, or shoes for over a day?
By the time I’d covered the few feet to get to the bucket and relieve myself of the SNSWW (Short-No-Sensation-Wee-Wee), I had changed my mind about the stubbed-toe-pain. It is still stinging, now I had been standing and walking on the plates again! Tsk!
I examined the damaged digit, and took a photo of it, using the new Canon camera.
Even the left hand was a bit shaky this morning. Humph! The toe seemed to be getting less swollen, fingers crossed.
The pins (legs) appeared to have lost some water retention. They looked considerably less warped and misshaped, too. Also, I think a little less anaemic looking (Or maybe that was the lighting in the front room?).
Some new lumps and papsules were coming through. I couldn’t see any new growths, spots or blotches, though. Good!
On to CorelDraw, to do the political fun and Thoughts graphics for the next two days.
I then got the kettle on for a brew of the Glengettie tea and did the health checks. Sys 166, Dia 88, Pulse (still low I think?) 54, and the temperature was at 35.5°c.
Next, I made a brew, then started on updating the Tuesday blog for publication. This was done with reasonable alacrity, thanks to the ring and fingers end temporarily losing their electric-like jumping and dancing every time they come into contact with anything hard, like the keyboard buttons. Nice to do some work without the frustration of this, peripheral neurology ailment. Or, as the medical centre called it, ‘One of your too-many medical issues, you have’ when they refused to tend to my feet and nails, on Monday. That reminds me, if I have not done the calendar wrong again, and Caroline comes today, I must remember to inform her that the doctor told the Age UK lady when she rang the surgery, in an effort to get help for me; She (The Doctor) would either phone me or call on me this afternoon. Surprised me that did, she’s never been to the old house of new flat before? And, of course, there has been no contact made.
The wee-wees were steady enough this morning, only four in three hours.
Around 02:30hrs, I took the medications, forgetting how early it was. Schmuck! Grumph! Twit!
I got the t-shirt washed, wrung and hung to dry while I was doing other things.
Then, I went on Facebook to add some photos I’ve not had time to do and catch up on my beloved TFZer Facebooking.
Made another brew, and got ready for the ablutions at 07:00hrs(ish).
Took a shot of the odd-looking windy morning, from the unwanted, light & view-blocking new kitchen windows. And off to the wet room for a wee-wee.
I got on with yesterday’s post’s Pinterest photo adding.
Then, I decided; yes, it has been known for me to make decisions in the past. Usually wrong the ones, mind. But still. Along with my lethologica, this with my famous aboulomania (pathological indecisiveness), is a relatively new hindrance, that has joined the labyrinth of ailments recently. But decide (rightly or wrongly) I did, to get the t-shirt I’d washed earlier wash on the flat-airer, and get the other, brown bath towel washed. Then left it to start drying, and got the ablutions done.
Not one of the best shower sessions, due to the toe being caught a few times. However, the electric-finger-ends seemed less bothersome. And the toe, having put on some socks, was stinging somewhat, wait until I try to put the shoes on! Oy Vey!
The INR Blood nurse called a different one this time. So, I assumed that I made an error (Don’t laugh! Haha!) in putting Caroline down for a visit. Tsk!
I got the shoes on, (Argh! The toe!) dressed, the three-wheeler trolley, and shot out to catch the bus into Arnold.
Getting ready to go my way, I could not find the new camera. Stroke Support worker and cat-walk model, Caroline arrived. So, I had made a cock-up on the calendar. A bit rushed this morning, and she had to move fast. She decided there was nothing she could do for me and cancelled the next visit. The Thursday next visit, which I felt sadly, might be the last one, with Sonia (or Sophie) might go ahead, if it does, we will try out the four-wheeled trolley on a bus trip.
No big smile from Caroline when I asked to take her photograph with the three-wheeled trolley, today, on our way to her car.
They are busy gals, doing a marvellous job though. I was fixated with finding the camera, much to Caroline’s annoyance, quite rightly too. I decided as I walked her to her car, to go up to Aldi and get some sourdough bread. But by the time we had reached her vehicle, the right toe was stinging too bad for a walk that far. I said my farewells to Caroline, and returned morosely, slowly, and limpingly to flat.
I thought on the walk back; I knew it was inevitable, the ending of the visits, but sadness still overcame me.
In the flats to the foyer, no residents about at all, but there were some unhappy looking floor fitter chappies, working on the cut-through to the new Extra-care units, Windwood Heights, and the new offices for the Nottingham City Homes, catwalk models and Generaloberstesses Wardens.
I felt a tad lost, confused, sad and verklempt for some reason or reasons when I got in the apartment.
I worked on some CorelDraw graphic making for a while. But the mind was stewing again, fretting over my actions, choices etc. I soon gave up through lack of concentration and made an early meal.
I think it was a case of comfort eating, but I gulped it all down, and then I ate a bag of Marmite crisps and a few sweeties. Yet I enjoyed it?
Why I felt so down, suddenly was a mystery. Depression, I suppose, but why?
I got washed and down in the £300 second-hand recliner to watch a ‘Frost’ episode on the TV. I fell asleep, which was a surprise to me.
I was woken by the mobile ringing and shaking, which without any hearing aids, also surprised me a bit that I heard it? But by the time I had stirred and grabbed at the mobile, dropped it, retrieved it, and failing twice to get the thing answered as it would work for me, it was too late and whoever it was (number withheld), had rang off, or more likely this stupid phone had sent them through to the message thingy.
Mega-fed-up now. It might have been the doctor about the feet or legs? I feel that my mind insisted of it own accord, that I fall asleep again. Mercifully, removing some worrying anguish and self-pitying thoughts that were gathering in my bonce at the time.
I remember reading about Mental Dysmorphic Disorder a long time ago. I might look it up tomorrow, or not.
Sorry, I suddenly feel so low, can ‘t help it this time.