Monday 24th June 2019

Zulu: NgoMsombuluko 24 KuJuni 2019

02:05hrs: I woke with, not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but with a degree of unexplained jocundity. My mind turned to Josie and hoped she would be feeling a little better today. I do not want to bother her too early, she is a night-owl, and mornings are not her forte at all. But must get to find out how she is later. Fingers crossed!

I find myself up, out of the near-dilapidated, £300, second-hand, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, recliner, caught my balance, got the stick and was utilising the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), almost without realising how I’d got there? 

Off to the kitchen, and got the hand-washing done. A call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, a rather urgent one, and off to the wet room. The evacuation was swift and not too painful, whatsoever. Cleaning certain ‘things’ up afterwards, I discovered some minuscule bleeding from Little Inchy and Harold’s haemorrhoids. First time for Inchy in many weeks, it surprised me a bit. It may be due to the high INR level.

I medicated where needed, and got the kettle on. I was almost caught-out, when I passed wind, and had to hobble back to use the Porcelain Throne again. Lickety-split, too!

The evacuation was surprisingly large but went okay. The poor old, seemingly constantly well-stubbed right toe, suddenly began to sting for no reason, as it had been calm with little pain earlier? There was some bleeding again.

Then, it was yet again clouted against the toilet-seat-riser’s metal leg! This was followed by a silent Whaa! And maybe a few muted, selected words of displeasure.

Marks and somewhat unique colouration appeared on the bulbous, elephantine stomach again. Along with some new papsules and spots. The Tate Gallery might be interested in this photograph? Haha!

I also noticed some hairs on the chest had started to grow back, after having them shaved off for the heart operation, donkey’s years ago. Hehe! 

Back to the kitchen, to make another brew for the one that went cold, and did the health checks and then I took the morning medications. Sys 156, Dia 88, Pulse 90 and the temperature was 89°c. The photograph I took of the sphygmomanometerisationing, went the same way as many have over the years, off into the ether, never to be seen again. Humph!

As I made the mug of tea, I looked out through the light & view-blocking, impossible to get to clean, stepladder needed for viewing downwards, new unwanted kitchen windows. I took a couple of shots, one a close-up of where I have to go on Friday at 10:40hrs, for my long and eagerly awaited (for twenty-two weeks)  appointment with a podiatrist. (There is also the [Thirteen weeks!] waited for audio-clinic appointment on Wednesday, where I have to walk up the steepest hill in Nottingham City Centre!)

I made a start on this blog and then updated the Sunday post. It took me a while, but the involuntary-dancing fingers were not so bad, and I completed it and got it sent off on about four hours! Smug mode Adopted!

Four wee-wees of the RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee) style were taken during the updating.

I went to make a brew of tea and was surprised at how the weather had changed from earlier.

While the kettle was boiling, I popped, well, limped, to the wet room for a wee-wee with a difference. That I hope do not continue. It was an SHLP (Short-Hosepipe-Like-Painful) release! Cor blimey!

I went on the TFZer Facebook page.

I tended to the ablutions, with extra care to be taken over the shaving! Hah! All done bloodlossedssly. Prepared everything for the photographic trip to town. Dressed, checked for bus-pass, card, etc. Three-wheeled trolley with a shoulder bag, and was all ready to go out to try and see Riechsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, at the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Fallen asleep tenants corner. Crockery and pottery to be stolen from location, and residents porta-cabin, to ask if she could phone to book in the bound-to-be-messy job of the fitting of the new Communication Intercom.

I got down to the foyer for, and outside, was the INR Nurse ringing the button, trying to get me, on the intercom! I expected her if at all, on a Wednesday, like last week. The pretty Polish Nurse and I returned back up to the flat. Where the kind lady took my blood in short-time. I mentioned my having only four beta-blockers left, and not being able to find out from the chemist, when the delivery of July medications was due to be delivered (It seems like a Kremlin secret would be easier to find out about!) The Nurse rang the Sherrington Park Medical Practice doctors re the beta-blocker shortage. She was told, they should be here in a couple of days, as the prescription was mailed to the chemists three days ago. Bless her for trying for me. But I am still in La-La Land, over the Bisoprolol Fumarate supply will last or not! Frustration-Mode-Engaged! I thanked her, and of she trotted.

Out again for me to the hut. On entering the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. And Telling Inchcock off Zone, there were a dozen or so residents in differing states of consciousness, awareness and confusion. Hehehe! I did notice that the entrance-exit door on the Woodthorpe Court end of the cabin, was still awaiting being finished off.

Deana, come into the cabin, and I begged her assistance. She agreed to try and book them early in the day (08:00>12:00hrs), and will let me know later.

I had intended to mention Josie being poorly, but it being a Monday and everyone wanting to talk to Deana, I got a little confused. After handing out some nibbles, and what seemed like reluctant chinwags, I moved out and over to the bus stop. With a clump of us, partly-deaf old fogies talking was impressive. The misheard questions getting befuddling and confusticating answers was a delight and amusing to listen to. I kept quiet, not wanting to add my well-known miss-answerings and confusional verbiage to the spoken tangle. Haha!

On the bus, as is now routine with my having to use the trolley-guides, I had to sit on the most uncomfortable, and likely to fall-off-of seats; a side-saddle one! Margaret sat nearby, and what turned out be the most farcical conversation took place. We are both deaf, and with the other passengers chatting away, and Mary’s fast speaking, my grip on any comprehension, perception, discernment, or interpretation of what we were talking about, was very minimal, and frustrating, too! My talking too softly must have confused her as well. Still, we tried our bestest! Hehehe!

We dropped off on Upper Parliament Street. My getting off last, I usually do this, as I find I am less danger to folks with the trolley, this way. I followed some other alighted passengers and saw this very tall young ‘Vaper’ near a bus stop. By gum, he was giving off some smoke! No problem from me about it though. At least the lad is trying to stop the tobacco, and the Vaping does far less damage to his insides I believe.

I ambled on towards Clumber Street and took this photo of a reasonably busy Upper Parliament Street.

The pretend policeman, seemed to be posing as the girls went by. There’s a song in there somewhere, but I can’t for the very life of me remember what it is. Ah, got it! ♫ Standing on the corner, watching all the girl’s go by! ♫ Haha!

On the slow, steady hobble down through Clumber Street, I took some pictures. They should have bot had Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist in them.

But not in the first one of the photographicalisations, the cyclist hid behind the seven-foot lad. Hehehe!

In the second photograph, (left) there were two Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists originally, but by the time I’d got the camera out, the second Cyclist had mysteriously disappeared!

Surely he would not have taken his bike into McDonald’s? Hehe!

I had a look in a shoe shop window and got a surprise at the prices! The damned photo did an into the ether trip, but I took the snap to show how this particular pair, looked exactly like the ‘Plimsoles’ I used to have to wear at school in 1959… 1969. Hahaha! The shop had them on a Sale Price £105, down to £89! And, the shop had a right few customers inside! I think it must have been selling rip-off designer stuff?

I walked down South Parade, into the Slab Square. Hobbled onto Wheeler Gate, and into the Poundland shop, naughtily in search of some Pork-Farms Pork Pies! Guilty- Mode-engaged! 

They didn’t have any. But, with not having any food delivery this week, I got some bleach, toothpaste, nibbles Twix and Cheeselets. And other bits.

The lad at the self-serve checkouts put the things through for me and packed the trolley and shoulder bag for me. Bless her! I may have been looking a little anaemic again? Hahaha!

I thanked her, and once outside, I saw these two Mountain Bike Pavement Cyclist, possibly visitors, judging by their suntanned faces, and backpacks, chinwagging with each other. I could not recognise what tongue they were speaking in at all.

Not that I am a linguist, of course. The English language is enough for me to get confused over and make a mess of.

I strolled over the Slab Square, taking a picture of the Council House en route to Queen Street and the L9 bus stop. It looked a little sparse of Nottinghamians, but there were plenty of them about; probably busy shoplifting, street begging or mugging someone.

I carried on and up the hill to the L9 bus shelter. Where another photograph I took, of the street, has since mysteriously disappeared into the flipping ether, from the sim-card! Huh?

At least the hands, arms and fingers were not doing much dancing and jumping about on the trip, so the photographs came out alrightish.

The bus arrived, and Caroline from then got on Chestnut Walk (As Chestnut Way is called on Google) got on the bus at the next stop. I was on a side-saddle seat as usual, and we held a conversation that was similar to the one Mary, and I had on the bus earlier going to town. Difficult! Back at Chestnut Walk or Way,

Caroline dropped off at the Briarwood Home, and I got off the bus with the rest of us ragamuffins, at Winchester Court. And hobbled along home to Woodthorpe Court.

The connecting corridor was still being built in the lift lobby. To allow us through to the new, soon be occupied and utilised (We hope) Obergruppenführeress Wardens and Prison Officers new HQ, and the brand spanking new forty-four extra-care flats.

I wasn’t sure if I should disturb Josie or not. But I had to find out if she was okay. So I rang her bells, she answered. But she was not looking very good, and said she had a migraine did not want to talk, only wanted to sit quietly, I got the message and apologised for bothering her. Told her my door would be unlocked and I’ll be available anytime if she felt poorly or needed anything at all. I withdrew swiftly, to let her get back to her chair and some rest. I felt a little useless, though!

Although it was still a tad early, I got the nosh sorted out. A can of chilli and some oven chips (Fries) and a pot of mandarins in jelly. Not one of my best meals, but I ate up all of it. Granting it a score of 5/10 for flavour. The chips were very bland!

I was getting weary again, as is standard. I got the TV ad a DVD of ‘Keeping Up Appearances’ to watch, before the Ladies Football, America v Spain. Which I got everything sorted beforehand. A wee-wee was taken, a bottle on spring water and a bag of Marmite crisps on the Ottoman, and all settled.

Oh, Sod-It! I fell asleep at half-time and missed the entire second-half. Which really wrangled me when I searched for the score when I woke up! But, I was more than pleased that America won the game, even if it took two penalties to do it.

As long as France don’t win, I’ll be happy enough! I don’t think England will win the cup, although it would be amazing. But you never know with FIFA. It seems to depend on who is giving the biggest back-hander out. Just like the French lads won against Croatia. Fiddling VAR controllers, and a Francophile or well paid or philargyrist referee. I have no confidence in FIFA’s pathetic history of biasedness!

The sky looked a little active if that’s the word, tonight. It looked beautiful.

I had a wee-wee of the LHNCWW (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Sensation-Wee-wee) mould. I thought it would never end!

I soon nodded-off again in no time.

I woke up twenty-minutes or so later, thinking it was morning! I began to get up when I realised it wasn’t dawn, and I had not overslept! What a  proper fertummelt I am! Then I could not get back to sleep! Grumph!