Wednesday 12th June 2019
Croatian: Srijeda 12. Lipnja 2019
02:35hrs. Woke, remembering the Stroke Aid visitors Caroline and Sophia, Morrison’s delivery to arrive twixt 06:30>07:30hrs, and the Blood Taking Nurse all to sort out this morning. Freed my bulbous-body from the £300 second-hand, c1968, grotty-beige coloured, rickety recliner, then, off I went for a wee-wee. Taking care to avoid any more of the painful toe stubbing en route!
I must say the colouration was very bright this morning on the toe inspection picture. But I had to use a flat board to hold the camera steady, as the right hand, fingers, and arm were in a full electricity inspired dancing mood.
To the kitchen to do the health checks next. The readings seemed excellent to me. At, Sia 122, Dia 64, pulse 83 and temperature 34.8°c.
Got the medications out to take later, and placed them near the computer, so I do not forget to take them. (I hope!)
I got the computer on, to get started and finish off the updating of the Tuesday blog.
I noticed the Cancer Screening kit laying near the sock-glide as a reminder to me.
Maybe today, a Porcelain Throne Evacuation might come. I feel like one is on the way, so I’ll attend to taking the samples first thing when I get in the wet room.
Yesterday, there were none at all? Mmm!
Working on the keyboard today was a nightmare. The flaming right side fingers, hand, and arm were pretty consistent with their electrified jumping and dancing about. Making doing the post update, a long, frustrating session. Nevermind! I did get it done eventually.
Then caught up on the WordPress Reader, and TFZer Facebooking.
Time to get the ablutions tended to, I hope the shaking doesn’t cause problems with my taking the samples, that could be really embarrassing!
Took the photo on the right of the rain, from the balcony windows.
Back in a while, I’m off to the wet room, hopefully, for Sample-Taking and to get the ablutions done and sorted. Too early for a shower, though.
Well, what a comical fumble about! I was advised to ‘catch’ any evacuated material, in a disposable container, to take the two samples from it. Print my name (Already done) and date in the sleeve cover, seal it up, and ready the next lot for tomorrow’s sampling. Of course, everything was as solid as a rock, and despite my best efforts, nothing could be moved! Not even any wind escaped!
So, I gave up and got an extended stand-up scrubbing, shaved, teggies, and got ready to adorn my clothing.
I achieved using the sock-glide without any toe stubbing the hand/leg shakes. But I did take a little skin off of a finger knuckle on the metal and rubber holding grip. I’m not sure why I tried the glide with this small pair of socks made from Bamboo. I considered putting on the Ankle-Support, but the toe was stinging as it was, without the blood flow being cut. I battled my aboulia, hesitatingly, hummed and faffled about, should I, shouldn’t I, for ages. In the end, I decided to leave the decision making until later. Humph!
Back to the computer, and did some Coreldraw work, and edited this blog.
The intercom rang and flashed, it was the Morrison delivery. I got to the phone as quick as I could, for the toe seemed to be getting more painful. I buzzed him in and… The damned right hand burst into one of its involuntary Axonotmesis inspired shakes and twitching session, and I dropped the phone…
The coil wire allowed the phone to fall straight down, as the shaking hand made me drop the handset, and guess what?
It was just long enough for the receiver to reach far enough for it to land on, and clout my already suffering and unlucky poor stubbed toe!
I took a photo of the perilously bad-luck ridden for me, intercom phone, with the flex in its “Watch-Out-Inchcock – pain on the way” position. Tsk! Showing how well, nay, perfectly, that it was set-up, the optimum length of flex available for reaching, falling on, bashing, bruising further, and clouting any unsuspecting stubbed toes that might foolishly be joined to the end some fools foot, that is in the vicinity or using the intercom. Hahaha!
A few words of a naughty variety were uttered underneath my breath. Like, ‘Oh fancy that!’ ‘Well, blow me down! and ‘Arghh!’ Hehe!
The Morrison chap arrived up at the flat and placed the bags in the hallway. I could not resist telling him of my Accifauxpas with the phone. He was not impressed, but he managed a half-smile. I thanked him, and off he shot.
Once again, I had forgotten about returning the carrier bags that should have been recovered from the previous order delivered. Ah, well! Worse things happen at sea!
Yet, still, my IQ told me things would improve later?
I put the purchases away. I had overdone it again, and, or, made more cock-ups doing the order in the first place.
I’d ordered six pots of Limoncello desert, the most significant bag of chips (Fries) available, a ready meal (that I thought about, but think I changed my mind but didn’t, Hehe!) amongst the many items bought that were not needed! I even got some more of the baked beans and vegetable sausages. I must stop getting back into this bad habit!
I was so pleased when Caroline arrived at the flat. All business to start with, a firm and determined: “Are we going out on the bus today, we must do! No messing about, after a little natter, the gal started to get the four-wheeled trolley out ready for me to rush things along. I was having trouble keeping up with things. And when it came to us going out, I was all confused whether I had left lights on, heaters, stove, faucets, etc.
We had an enjoyable gossip as we walked along Chestnut Way to the new bus stop. At the bus stop, there were many Winchester Court folk, but a scarcity of Woodthorpe ones? But a chat here an there was had. On the bus to town, talking was difficult, but Caroline and I managed some. It was decided while being monitored by Caroline, I’d go to the pound shop, for toothpaste, drain-cleaner, and Pork pies if they had any in. Then to the Victoria Market for a pair of trousers, and get the bus back so that Caroline was not out too long. That was the plan!
We dropped off the bus on Upper Parliament Street and walked in the light drizzle to the Poundland store. I moved as fast as I could around the store, to impress Caroline ♥. First I got the drain cleaner, the into the fridge but no Pork Farms large pies on sale, the into the toothpaste, and what a mind-blowing selection they had! I usually use the Colgate gel type. Today they had many different brands on sale. I ended up getting one that was smaller, 75g compared to the 100g normal one. Maxfresh, with intense foam! I thought I’d try it out.
On the way to the self-serve checkouts, I spotted they had some cans of Churchfield Chilli Con Carne, I bought a couple to try.
This little lot filled the pathetic storage box come seat, on the four-wheeled trolley to capacity.
We walked over the road into Boots, through to the Victoria Centre. Caroline pointed out the lifts, and we used it to get up to the Market level. As we walked through the fruit & Veg market. I said I’d look to see, but thought it was too early, for any fresh garden peas. Caroline said she had seen some in Tesco earlier.
That was it, the thought of getting trousers was abandoned, and we made out way out to the lift and down to the ground floor, and walked to Tesco, in my search for the garden peas! I’d have a look for some Pork Knuckle at the same time. Miserable at having found neither, we walked back onto Upper Parliament Street. Where I took a couple of pictures of the traffic lights opposite Clinton Street.
The Nottinghamian’s, as usual wandering across the (Only one fatal accident at these lights so far this year) pelican lights, against the red light. Bless em!
Not so bad, really, I’m just glad I don’t have to use the trolley or stick in Tokyo! Hehehe!
We made our way to the L9 bus stop and caught it back to the flats.
As we got off, farewells and Caroline shot off to her car, having spent too long looking after me, on to her next mission of the day.
As I began the walk down Chestnut Way, the bus turned at the new traffic island, to pick up passengers at the outward bound request stop shelter.
Winwood Heights was looking more like it is meant to now. But we have until around November until everything is in place and sorted.
I got in the apartment, and the feet, ankle, knees, stubbed toe, feet, and Anne Gyna were all giving me bother. Tired and weary feeling to, poor old chap! I got the purchases put away. Stripped off and adorned the dressing gown and slippers.
I decided on the Chilli-Con-Carne and frankfurters for the meal, with some of the chips from the gigantic bag morning. Huh!
I liked the Chilly-Con-Carne. It was not too hot for me. The franks tasted fine, but the substituted or wrongly ordered chips were a disappointment. Had some Milk Loaf to soak up the tasty fluids. A limoncello to follow. A Flavour rating of 7/10, despite the crap chips.
I had a search for the missing return envelops again, no luck!
All I did, apart from the odd wee-wee after doing the pots, was watch TV for ten-minute, nod-off, wake up fifteen-minutes later, nod-off. Wake up…
20 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Wed 12 June 2019: Bestest trip to town in ages!”
That sample taking can get bizarre! It gagged me to take the poop smear, but taking it to the hospital laboratory people (“Here’s my poop smear sample!”) was an unsavory task.
I had another sample chore of saving all my urine – refrigerated in my refrigerator…I drew the line there, and opted for a buvcket of ice. The sample taking started on a Saturday night around the time the bars close here. I went into the convenience store and bought a hiuge amount of ice to cool the jun with my daily urine output. The clerk gave me a “I wish I knew where you were having the post bar party that you need that much ice” look. I laughed to myself when I tried to imagine his reaction if he knew what the ice really was for! LOL~!
But I agree, it has its embarrassing side to it. TTFN
No kidding! I try to convince myself, too, that the receivers of these samples must be very committed to their work to work with such disgusting stuff.
I to wonder, Doug. Also, are they paid well?
Minimum wages is my guess. “If they are dull enough to think this is a career, then we can underpay them, too! Hee! Hee!” Of course, they may get a decent wage, too. Don’t know,. Hope they get paid well personally!~
I’ve not seen any job adverts for them, Doug. Haha!
That’s because everyoine who takes the jiob signs a contract that forces them to be chained to a stool (pun intended) in the laboratory iuntil they go insane or drop dead. Those jobs always are filled forever. LOL!
I went through it as the end of my working life. I owrked my way down to the bottom then got made redundant. Hehehe! TTFN
Yeah, a familiar pattern for most of us retirees. They were so eager for me to agree to retire that I gave them three work days to process me out instead of the 90 days they preferred we give them. Had I styaed for the full 90 days, I probably would have made a poiint of doing nothing but showing up and hiding from the boss so I could do nothing for eight hours a day. LOL!
Hahaha! You are probably dead right mate! Haha! Done the right thing.
My last 3 months were spent on my redundancy notice, working an average of 80hrs a week, I had to get as much as I could, and the other controller would not come in cause he was upset. Hence the long hours. Ah-well!
LOL! Fortunately for me, what I did was not especially fun for most people since no one else in the office worked with data using statistical models. The other thing I did – evaluation of failure causes in customer returns – was fun for me because I got to see how the construction of our products affected product life (or customers abused it!) but was very dirty work. I worked with a bunch of office people who weren’t keen on getting dirty at work. nor had much curiosity about the maths I needed to do my job. I presume none of what I did was continued after I left. Of course, ignorance about the data I tortured to tell me process problems or process control would mean they could be on the precipice of ruin and not know it or on the trail to profits without knowing how to maximize them. Gad, I’m glad I’m out of that environment!
After reading this, I’m not surprised you’re glad to be free of it, Doug!
I would be.
As I mentioned before, mate, my arithmophobia has never decreased. Tsk!
Cheers, enjoy your release, yee-haa!
I had daily terrors when I had two tragic years of algebra to meet requirements for graduation. Being a typical teenager, I said, “I don’t know whyt I need this, I’ll never iuse it!”
Fast forward several years. I’m at my desk doing some calculations to separate accountable scrap from nonaccountable scrap, a routine business I had to do manually in those “pre-ubiquitous computers doing all the hard work for you” days when I had an epiphany: I used algebra to do the task!
That was the day two algebra teachers rolled over in their graves and a choir of angels welcomed them into heaven after years in an algebra purgatory.
“He used algebra, Alice! Algebra! He finally gets it!”
“Pre-ubiquitous days”… I like it!
Haha! Victory at last for your teachers, Doug! What a tale, worth you mentioning on your blog sometime? Sure to get a laugh, mate!
Maths are a ll still a blight on me, and beyond me! Tsk!
I have seen the light: Maths rule, dogs drool! The nation that lives by maths rules the world, as a Dutch friend of mine used to say.
Of course, now that computers takeover the grim calculations and we just have to plug data into spots, it is less onerous.
I used to live by this saying: Torture numbers and they will confess to anything. (I liked the idea of getting even with them for befuddling and scrambling my brain! Yeah, make those numbers squeal like piggies! Ha!)
It’s all beyond me, Doug! Tsk!
jun = jug They other typos are more decipherable.
Understood, Doug! Haha!
You got a good walk in with Caroline, and there were a lot of people out it the streets. No kamikaze cyclist today? Your system is holding out on you shooting crap with the cancer card? Your C graded dinner looked good.
The pavement cyclist were out in force – it’s just that Caroline was keeping my attention. I was waking wrongly, leaning to the right with my right foot sticking out, rushing too much etc. Hehe!
I can’t find the screening envelope anywhere, for love nor money!
Nurse phoned last night, she isvisitingtomorrow for physio exercises (Oh, dearie me!) Haha!