Saturday 29th July 2019
Malayalam: 2019 ജൂലൈ 29 ശനിയാഴ്ച
04:15hrs: I woke, passed a little wind, coughed a lot, knocked the TV remote control off of the arm of the near-dilapidated, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, second-hand, £300, sometimes working, uncomfortable recliner arm.
When I rose gingerly and got on my feet to pick up the offending black plastic covered controller, the pain from the feet had significantly decreased, and a little joyous moment was enjoyed, as I realised what good my seeing and being tended to by Podiatrist Kirsty had done for me yesterday at the Health Centre!
However, and unfortunately, as I leaned on the stick and bent down, Back-Pain Brenda kicked off with some shockingly sharp stabbing pains! I almost fell off of the end of the walking stick with the shock-like shooting pains! The brain then began on one of its meandering usually pointless, in-depth thought analysationing sessions. How come, Arthur Itis, Reflux Roger, Dizzy Dennis, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna Prostrate Pete, and even Back-Pain-Brenda, have all been so kind to me since the Stroke? Fair enough, the Axonotmesis and Peripheral Neuralgia dancing and shaking have gotten far worse… and why should Brenda set-off so suddenly and badly again? Does the body control pain more than I thought? Has it somehow ignored some ailments after the stay in the hospital ward? Why? How? My questions were beyond my own understanding and made no sense, let alone the struggle for answers and recognition of the problems.
I found myself automatically using the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket) having a UWTWW (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wee). And still, the brain was struggling with itself! After a good while of misleading and confusing myself, the need for the Porcelain Throne may well have helped me avoid going potty, I think! Off to the wet room, stick in hand. No Axonotmesis-inspired dancing or shaking from anywhere this morning! (Yet!) But, I was glad I had the sense to take the walking stick with me just in case, a sort of justificatory, safety-first thing.
I took a photo of the foot, and show it above, with yesterdays picture before the nail-cutting was done. Looking better, I think. Hence the previous agony just turns to pain. Hahaha!
The khaki concrete-like resistant evacuation was painful again, but no blood. What things would be like without the Senna tablets I dread to think!
I got the hand-washing done, only the usual t-shirt and a pair of socks. I moved yesterday’s clothes to the airer for drying. No dancing or quivering from any body-parts!
Imbibed the medica
tions, did the health checks then I made a brew of tea. The sphygmomanometer worked the first time, with impressive results: Sys 150, Dia 76, Pulse 89, and temperature at 34.8°c.
Taking a picture from the unwanted, unliked, hard-work new kitchen windows. The morning was not cold.
Then I got on with sorting the pod peas
. Shelling them and getting them in the saucepan with water and a little demerara sugar. Ready for cooking later on with the cheesy potatoes for Josie’s and my noshes.
A bit of bother when the fingers started playing up Peripheral Neuralgia wise. Peas flew about all over the place, some have never been found! Two were rescued from underneath the cooker, one behind the door, several on the floor in different places, ad in the rubbish bin, one in the dressing gown pocket. Two were found later in the sink on the other side of the kitchen! I work out that up to ten more are hiding somewhere, awaiting discovery and recovery. I even lost a couple of empty pods? Tsk!
I got the computer booted up, and began on updating the Friday post. The fingers were not too bad, so it was completed quicker than it has been of late. Which made it harder to accept, when as I was finishing off and posing the blog, the Peripheral Neuropathy inspired dancing and jumping started off in the fingers, hands, arm, and shoulder. I can’t remember having all of them together at the same time before and felt the EQ telling me that this is the future for me, so learn to cope with it! Which means eventually I suppose, an and to my blogging as things get worserer. Hey-ho! Sulky-Mode-Engaged!
I made another mug of tea and pressed on. But it was really heavy work, and I got a little discouraged at times.
I got the potatoes cleaned and in the oven baking. Had another couple of UWTWW’s (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wees), just to keep my eye in. Haha!
I popped out on the balcony, with the finger trapping closure, one that works one that is too stiff to open at all, the unreachable glass that needs cleaning and gaps in the panes of glass, and took two photographs. One of the view up Chestnut Way; showing free car parking spaces, which was a surprising rarity! The second one, a zoomed in shot of someone’s balcony, with some beautiful flower arrangements, one I think is on a bonnet. Very appealing and decorative. I would think this flat does not have a bloke on his own living in it! Hehehe!
Then back to starting this post going and updating it.
Got Josie’s nosh prepped and taken to her flat. Sh
e was looking better today, I’m glad to say.
Got mine finished off. Beef pasty, podded peas, pickled eggs, gherkin slices, tomatoes, and some cheesy potatoes.
A flavour rating of 8.2/10 given this one.
The body and mind gave up after I’d eaten it all and done the pots.
The wee-wees were coming far less often now. Which pleased me, cause I’m not too keen on these UWTWW’s (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wees).
I made a brew and took this picture from the unwanted and feared new kitchen window.
I settled to watch the Italy v Netherlands Ladies World Cup game on the goggle-box.
It seemed to me the Italians were uninterested in winning. Thought they had no chance. Or had been back-handed to lose the game. Take your pick! Hehe!
Watching the Germany v Sweden match, later on, Sweden deserved to win. The semi-final of Netherlands v Sweden could be an exiting one. The other semi, England v America, will split my emotions.
I got the hand-washing done.
As I stripped off to get my head down, I spotted what I thought was a piece of black sock on the left foot little toe. I struggled to get to remove it and had a losing battle. So I used the picker-upper stick and tried that…
It soon dawned on my confused, underachieving, rudimentary, reluctant brain, that it was not wool or bamboo bits, but a blood clot, gathering or papsule. Bottom of the little toe, underneath the tiny nail. Not more trouble coming, I hoped!
Sleep; or I mean getting to sleep, was more of a problem than ever tonight. Unless I dreamt it, and I don’t think I did; I kept nodding off, and dreaming, then jumping awake again! But there didn’t seem time to have had a dream, for it appeared I was dropping off to kip for only a couple of minutes at a time? Taking ages to get off again, then having another dream… this repeated for I don’t know how long. But it felt like hours!
I had to rise from the £300, c1968 recliner for a wee-wee. Unfortunately another UWTWW (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wee).
The dreaming and actual act of wee-weeing were no longer my main concern. After the wee-wee had been taken, boy, there was a right pestilential odour in the air! So foul, and took the grey bucket to the wet room and sanitised it, before returning it to the side of the Ottman, then tried once more to get to sleep. I would have had more chance of winning the Lottery, and I don’t buy a ticket! Hahaha!
04:00hrs. I woke and got out of the £300 second-hand, gungy-beige, tatty, c1968, sometimes operating, rickety recliner. Stood up and walked without any stick, to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket), had an RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee), then thought I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, which I did need. But no sooner had I settled on the Throne, I realised that this was to be failed session! I got the clue from the solid-mass within, just not moving, and the pain from the effort to encourage it too! Haha! I gave up, got the feeling that much blood would be lost it I tried any harder, and a lot of time would be spent just sitting and waiting. 
ablets with the new medications later, that Deepak had delivered, all potted-up for me last night. Conveniently at a time that was an hour beyond the getting-my-head-down-time! 
Then I tended to the health checks. Sys 155, Dia 55, Pulse 95, and Temperature at 35°c. 
onising encouragement, the movement was completed! Oy Vey! 
er in sleep mode, and set about getting things ready. 
was just the fingers that were jumping about. I dropped the razors twice, facecloth once and the soap three times. I even let the flipping drain unblocker bottle slip when I had to use it again! Most agrannoying, Phwert! 
taken with me. On the walk up the gravel hill into Woodthorpe Grange Park, I sadly realised that I could not have a walk through the tree copse. However, I stopped and carefully took a few short paces under the overhanging trees at the side of the walkway. An almost petrichor aroma lingered, and I enjoyed the few minutes under the trees. 
Up onto the footpath in the Grange, I saw that a fair of some sort was getting readied on the bottom football field. I hope that the fights and vandalism of Woodthorpe Court that took place last year, are not repeated again. The Security men and police must think the same thing. As far as I know, no one was arrested or charged. The young yobboes were under age apparently they tell me.
I gingerly plodded down the hill and right to the end of Elmswood Gardens. This three-wheeler is not keen on going downhill. Haha! 
Very kind of her. I thanked her and made my way up Elmswood Gardens, towards Mansfield Road to catch the bus. 
done with the left hand, as the right one was doing its dancing again.
would still like a 
The metal spring release grip, on the 
computerisationalisticalisationing again for a couple of hours. Took the medications, got the nosh served up and eaten, (A flavour rating of 6/10) and readied myself to watch the France v USA soccer match. 
ssion. The usual hard and bloody effort, and change in colouration to a sort of khaki?
02:00hrs. I woke with the mind filled with, what’s the most suitable word? Dread, I think! Fear of the long haul to town on the £2.30 bus trip and slog through town and up the fearsomely steep Standard Hill to the Audio Clinic, I think. Ah well! The note I’d left to remind me on the TV screen helped!
It was a struggle on this bus to town. So many people were getting on, the trolly in the way, folks treading on and into me. I was so glad when we got into town, and I could get off of the bus last, as usual. I hobbled down Queen Street into Slab Square. I avoided a collision with a Nottinghamian Pavement cyclist as I got there. I was just about to take a photo of the two coffee robbers across the square. Came out a bit blurred, though.
Crossing the square to get to the Poundland Store (surely this time they will have some large Pork Farms pies or Payne’s chocolate Brazil misshapes in stock?). But no, they didn’t. However, I invested in: black bags, bleach, drain unblocker, cans of chilli-con-carne, an egg & bacon sandwich, and some more Ginsters beef pasty’s. The lady at the self-serve tills put them through for me and packed my bags. 
What an angel! As I left the store, some pigeons came down, the instant I dropped some nuts on the floor as I was taking the bag out of my pocket. There were not many left, but I lost them all! Still, the dickies benefited. Maybe they have learned that the bags can be dodgy from the Poundland shop, and other people have done the same? Haha!
I then carried out the plan, being as I had time if I didn’t take too long over it, to walk along and up Hounds Gate, and taking pictures along the way up. 
I turned right at the end of Hounds Gate, up Maid Marion way, previously known, when I worked at Tesco on the road, as Granby Street. 
To the end of Postern Street and left up to the top of Park Row, and on to the Ropewalk. A builder’s vehicle at the top, had me beat as to what it could be? Caterpillar tracks it had on it? Perhaps it is to get the wax out of me right ear-hole? Don’t know why I said that; it isn’t even funny. Am I losing it again?
. 
My EQ warned me that this may not be the case! However, I thanked her and left to go home as instructed. 
I walked down to the crossing and over the road, almost spitting with frustration! (If only I’d known what was to come yet, I wouldn’t have bothered!) 
I got up to the Wilko store and got some clothes-freshener and granules. And liquid soap flakes, plus a bag. 
though. 1855hrs: I thanked him, he’s a decent chap.
Closer to the top of Hounds Gate, was Ye Olde Salutation Inn. Claimed to be the second oldest pub in England along with theRoyal Children pub on Castle Gate nearby.
02:05hrs. After yesterday evenings nodding offs, I was not exactly surprised when I woke up with a bit of energy, after only four hours of proper sleep. 
Being as yesterday, idle-Tuesday, I had not even got dressed or shaved, there was no hand-washing to be done. Guilty-Mode-Engaged! 
I was going to take a photo from the unwanted light & view-blocking new balcony with the tons of glass to clean that cannot be accessed, and I spotted the new INR result sheet on the floor between the c1968 recliner and the c1950 easy-chair. I put in where it should be kept. 
It was raining a little, lightly, and the mist had cleared, apart from in the distance. I managed to open the side window with the metal spring clip opener failing in its efforts to again take a chunk of flesh out of the hand or finger, this time. Swank-Mode-Adopted! 
Off to the shed. 
pottery to be stolen from, and residents room. 
The bus arrived, and I caught the L9 to town. Not feeling very good at the time. I suppose my EQ told me that things were not going to go well at the clinic… it was right! 
I made my way down Clumber Street street to the City Centre. Where I took a couple of pictures of the Council House from Slab Square, on my way to the Poundland Shop to see if they had any of the 
out nibbles. I paid at the self-serve checkout without any cock-ups for once.
By the time I had reached the flats and got inside, seeing no one at all en route, I was not in good condition. 
04:10hrs. I have to admit it, I woke in a foul, niggly almost execrable mood! I had been dreaming a lot, but cannot recall anything of them, I just knew I’d been suffering nightmare-like dreams. The mind was rampant with fears, nervous worries and near panic. Why? I know not!
cheered me up a bit, I think.
I got on with the morning’s hand washing. Only a t-shirt and the long bamboo socks rinsed them, wrang them out as best I could, and got them on the stand-up airer in the hallway.
Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you’ rang out from the doorbells again.
I started to do some TFZer Facebooking. After ten minutes, my EQ told me to check outside again from the balcony.
At long last, I made a start on this blog! Well gone, midday!
A make-do, for now, a temporary job, of course. What had caused this almost a phenomenon, beats me!
Tired out again now. I’ll get the nosh sorted and ready for watching the football later.
The drizzle lasted all afternoon and evening on and off, but as Paul Daniels used to say: ‘Not a lot!’
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.
nt 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.
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 went to make a brew of tea and was surprised at how the weather had changed from earlier.
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.
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. 
On the slow, steady hobble down through Clumber Street, I took some pictures. They should have bot had Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist in them. 
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! 
language is enough for me to get confused over and make a mess of.
about; probably busy shoplifting, street begging or mugging someone.
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 sky looked a little active if that’s the word, tonight. It looked beautiful. 
the toe. The session went well, not too messy, no bleeding, no accifauxpas, and not as painful as they have been recently. I still resisted getting any hopes up, that things might be going right for once! But it was almost a pleasant experience for me. Haha! 
little apprehensive about the weight, after last nights naughty orgy on the nibbles.
So, off to the Steptoe & Son-like junk-scrap, rubbish room, and got onto the scales. Oh, dearie me! I seem to have gained a pound or two. Humph! After a few minutes of 
, anti-photographer, light & view blocking, wind letting in, can’t see anything below from, new windows, was bonny, despite the lack of any sunshine yet. This picture made me feel somewhat inadequate and negative for a while. The realisation that I can no longer take a walk through the beloved Tree Copse hit me. I considered trying to take a hobble up the hill through the copse later, but the risks were too 
significant to risk. This saddened me! 
minutes. They were both of the SSBSWW (Short-Sharp-But-Sprinkly-Wee-wee) type.
The right 
them off.
Got the pots washed.
e with a determination, rekindled, reignited, rejuvenated, to stop my ever-increasing weight the last few days! Perhaps I’d been dreaming about it, but I cannot recall for sure. I was confident that the oleogustusness of the body had shot up, (not surprising eating meal such as last nights veritable feast – photo right), as I freed the torso from the £300, c1968, ancient, grotty beige coloured rickety recliner. So sure, that I decided to weigh myself, expecting the worse.
Then a wash and off to the spare (junk) room to weigh my enormously elephantine wobbly body. The mystery of the disappearing scales confused me for a while. After faffling around searching, moving the three and the four-wheeled trolleys, stacks of boxes of Protection Pants, knocking over one of the metal hanger racks, and picking up the togs and replacing them, I found the scales. They were nestled in a corner, under a pile of clothes to take to the Charity Shop? I dug them out and adjusted the setting, so they were correct, and cautiously stood on them… Well, it was not a bad as I thought it would be, but still up on the last weighing. Although lower than before the stroke, at 14st-9lb. So, the stone I’d lost had gone down 
again, and stinging a bit as it did so. A new classification for this one, a DTPLWW (Dribbling-Trickling-Painful-Long-Wee-wee) Humph!
bothered me a smidge. It looked like the ankle ulcer was coming back. Well, it looked like it to me, I could see the colouring coming on like it did last and the first time. I could feel the same tingling sensation from it as before, just before the growth bursting out?
Got the health-checks done and medications taken. 
morning, Shepherds Warning’ – I checked on the weather for today on Google. 
cing moment! Oh, Gawd-blimey, yes!
Some sorting of paperwork, then got the nosh served up. 
me at the time. 
The masticated and well-stubbed big right toe was looking a little less tender, but it was still painful all the same. 
I tore off the wrapper of some foil cooking trays and got the tiniest, teensy-weensy, piffling, cut on the end of the right index finger. 
blutions done and get ready to go out. Which only produced one minuscule shaving cut (hardly worth mentioning really), and the slightest of toe-stubbing against the shower-seat metal leg, that made me jump a bit. A few more spots and papsules were showing up.
swollen, with the heart op scars showing vividly. To me, anyway?