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 m
anaged 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…
Another encouraging sign when I took the SWDWW (Short-weak-dribbling-wee-wee), the colour seemed to be much nearer its normal. 
I set about taking the evening medications that I forgot to imbibe last night. And then got a t-shirt and a pair of socks hand-washed, and drying on the airer. I got the morning tablets out and placed the pot near to the computer, to remind me to take them later. Then did the health checks for the day. The results were good this morning, apart from the pulse that was a little high, I think.
I had a change and went on the TFZer Facebooking again. Pattie from Canada asked me if I had received a card and some flowers when I was in the Stroke ward in the hospital. 
A change of plans then, chips again. 
Got up for a wee-wee, took a picture of outside, and the rain had stopped. But it still looked a bit dodgy out there. 
The bad luck was in the middle of washing the shirts and socks, the damned cunningly timed Peripheral Neuropathy started the handshaking and leg dancing just at the moment I was emptying the bowl of soapy water to be replaced with some clear cold water for the rinsing out! 
I got the things drying and hanging eventually. Cleaned up again, and noticed my dodgy right-hand hand, had horrendously gone all red! 
I made 
a brew of good strong Assam tea and sorted the medications out.
Time to get the ablutions sorted out, if I am to get everything done to catch the 09:30 bus to town. I hope the wee-weeing doesn’t bother me when I’m out. (Just a thought, but a worrying one!) 
had to sit on a sidesaddle seat. Most uncomfortable and incommodious way to travel, but, a necessary evil nowadays. 
As I began to walk up to Clinton Street, another so-called street dweller had taken up a position close to the Poundland shop. 
to judge?
I poddled into the slab square and began t go down Exchange 
after all. Else I will miss the L9 bus home. 
The rain began to come a lot more substantial, and I made my way to the L9 bus stop on Queen Street. 
was wonderful. 
He’s wearing jeans, old man’s slippers like mine, and lounging, feet up, relaxed, with a newspaper and book near to his expensive, possibly new chair; that I would not be able to get out of once I’d got down settled in it. 
The SSPWW (Short-Sprinkly-Painful-Wee-Wee) didn’t last long, but somehow more of it needed cleaning up from the floor and wall afterwards than went in the WC bowl! Something is wrong here? Tsk! 
This prompted me to do the health checks again, straight away.
the kitchen to make a brew. 
took the medications, after verifying that I was taking the correct ones this time, and not making the same cock-up as I did yesterday with them. 
The walk up Sherwood Rise was a slow, careful, thoughtful one. Slow and cautious to ensure no Accifauxpas with the trolley or shakes. Careful because I was in a sort of expecting-things-to-wrong mood, But things didn’t, which was a pleasant surprise. Haha! 
The temporary garden furniture place at the top of the hill, gave me an opportunity for a rest, as I had a look at their sheds for sale on display. This price seemed too good to be true, as it included delivery and erection? 
, I thought I’d picture the loaded three-wheeled-trolley. As I was pretty pleased with my cleverness in getting everything in it. (Just, Hehe!) 
oh yes! Mind you, it might be more for me? 
main road in Nottingham. 
I took a snap when I got to the end of Chestnut Way, of the whole Winwood Heights. The trees obviously block out the Windwood Court, the new extra-care flats being built and fitted out at the moment; that will contain hopefully when finished; A chiropodist, hairdressers, games room, and a rooftop lounge area. They are erecting link routes to the new facilities with each of the older blocks. 
I felt so tired suddenly. All I did was to have a wee-wee (What else?) and got a meal cooking. Of sorts.
05:20hrs. I woke with the most considerable reluctance and taciturnity, then I had to struggle through a short period of uncommunicativeness between my thoughts and brain, that was out of my control. I listened to the confusion reining about, without the slightest idea or decipherment of what was milling about for a few minutes. Then again, somehow, and for some reason, this did not bother me in the least. It was not distressing, disturbing, or even frustrating to me? The fact that this unique event had happened did concern me a little later on in the day, however.
The usual need for a wee-wee came later than usual. But it was enough to convince me to get my well-torsoed body out of the £300 second-hand, gungy-beige, rickety, on its last legs, c1968 recliner, and off to the wet room. There were no toe-stubbing or dropping the walking stick on the toe this time. It was another of the SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-wee) variety. 
Off to the kitchen, where I noticed the weather was raining and misty. 
I got the kettle on and fetched the socked and rinsed them, and added them to the nowhere near dry oven mitts on the flat clothes airer. 
the foggiest idea, but it sounded right to me at the time. 
When I stood up, what gobsmacking colour things were. The same colour that the Humber Desert lorries were painted during the second world war, a sort of light 
leg shin, yesterday, had now gone? The fluid retention was coming back. 
An hour or so later, I got my nosh cooking.
03:30hrs. Although sleep was in short supply last night, plenty of nightmarish dreams were supplied to torture my poor old blood-short brain. I can only recall bits of any detail, being chased in crumbling abandoned buildings again, falling from a plane, a self-operation to replace a certain undersized appendage, being kept in school… not the most cheerful of things to let one’s thoughts wander over, pretty glad to wake up, actually. Within a few seconds, the mechanics of the body informed me I needed a wee-wee (Fancy that, me, wanting a wee. Hehehe!). 
ankle gave way. I’m still not sure how I managed to avoid going over, but was nervous enough about it, to decide to put on the Ankle Support Strapping, as the toe was looking far less virulent and not so painful. Which meant tackling the infamously dangerous Sock-Glide! 
I then made a check of the pins and the toe first. A new, erm, unknown blotch had appeared of the top of the left leg. 
while I was using the glide. Luckily, none came this time. 
Accifauxpas, I was not letting my guard down and remained vigilant to the dangers that lurked from the mega-difficult to use locking device. 
The wee-weeing suddenly became very frequent, they were all still of the SSWW, though. 
I checked the hand washing drying. 
I went to get the potato and cheese ready, and getting something out of the cupboard, I pulled out the vinegar, a box of tomato puree and a tin of tomatoes out of the closet – knocked off the basin of potato and cheese, banged my right hand (decent bruise coming up), then lost my rag and sore at myself! It seems every time I get partly contended I forget about the hand and leg shakes. I am now fed up with myself, and have to clean-up and save what I can to make the meal. 
Excessive weariness dawned on me. Computer off, and I g
ecliner, without as much as a twinge from Arthur Itis or Anne Gyna! Off for a wee-wee, of the SSWW variety. 
Continued: I then foolishly took the morning medications! Not the evening ones! 
Continued: They looked excessively pale again. 
I wrote down some notes, but there was not much to remember, apart from the changing emotions. It was night time, and people were encouraging me to swim over the river Trent with them. I had heavy clothing on, but none of it mattered at the time, because I really did believe that I had lost my phobia and learnt to swim? I joined a queue of people, waiting for my turn to get into the water… With seconds all the same people, were on a beach, nighttime again, with intentions to swim the channel! This, I was not prepared for, and started to panic and find ways of not going… I recall sitting on the stone wall with my feet dangling in the water… I’m pretty sure this was the time I woke up, needing a wee-wee. 
I sat and took a photo of the pins. Not so blotchy today, but a well-fluid-filled pair of limbs, I’ve got.
As I was leaving the wet room, the intercom rang out, the Morrison chap was early, but this was nae bother. 
At the bus stop, Mary and Pete shared a chinwag with me. Caught the bus into Arnold, and had I had a bit of a shoppers delight visit. 
I paid at the self-serve tills. 
to me, bless him! A big chap too. Ahem! 
At the top of the pathway, I had to take a shot of this lovely wildflower. It looked so fresh and beautiful to me. 
Through the car park to the bus stop shelter. There were not many free parking spaces available this Friday. 
But, once in the foyer, May and Gaynor who were sat there, let me have a gossip and
What a pose May gave me for her photo! 
I got the dinner going and took the evening medications. 
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!
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?). 
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.
Then, I went on Facebook to add some photos I’ve not had time to do and catch up on my beloved TFZer Facebooking. 
(or Sophie) might go ahead, if it does, we will try out the four-wheeled trolley on a bus trip.
I thought on the walk back; I knew it was inevitable, the ending of the visits, but sadness still overcame me.
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.
Being in a rush to get to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), and the resting having eased off the pain from the blackened stubbed toe, I was soon off out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, grotty-beige coloured rickety recliner… and fell back into the same within seconds! The shock of the agonising pain when I stood up made me fall back into the ageing recliner again. It took a few minutes for me to get over the shock. And the familiar aching and hurting began all over again. I did manage to get the slippers on, but that was because I was in need desperately now, for the emergency grey bucket! 
I decided to get the daily hand-washing done. Only one shirt, flannels and one pair of socks to do this morning. I eagerly got them washed and rinsed, rung-out as best as I could manage, and hung up the shirt, and put the socks and flannels to dry on the flat airer. Smug-Mode-Adopted.
Back to making a brew. Took the medications and did the health checks – ’twas a bit of a surprise with some readings this morning. Sys 165. Dia 143, but the Pulse was only 56? Low surely? The temperature was 35.7°c. I checked on Google: High environmental temperatures can be dangerous to your body. In the range of 90˚ and 105˚F (32˚ and 40˚C), you can experience heat cramps and exhaustion. Between 105˚ and 130˚F (40˚ and 54˚C), heat exhaustion is more likely. You should limit your activities at this range. I’m confused more now. Tsk! 
I went onto the balcony to take a picture of below, through tone of the uncleanable multi and dirty glass panes. 
unbidden and uncherished execrated windows, to view outside and below. 
Unfortunately, this involved my suffering a new toe-stubbing one more time! Yet again, against the WC risers metal legs! 
I merely laughed it off, with gay abandonment and quite a little laugh! I may have said something like “Well, fancy that!”
Suddenly. I decided to get the hand-washing out of the way the first job of the day. So, feeling a little cocky, I poddled to the kitchen without the walking stick; just as I was going over the door tread, I gave myself the worst ever Toe-Stubbing of my life! 
Nothing to do about it, but wait and hope the pain eases, so I can get my shoes on later, and make it to the clinic. 
The fingers were so bad this morning, the faintest touch of the tips against anything at all, and they would start dancing and jumping. However, I discovered the new Canon camera, could be used with the left hand, and still allow the shutter (due to its location nearer the centre top) to be pressed with a left finger. Not perfect, but overall better than trying to use the shaking right hand and fingers. Bit of luck there! But using the keyboard and mouse remains a battle of wills, with the fingers usually winning. I’m taking longer and longer doing the blogs and CorelDrawing. Phwert! 
It may prove difficult, with catching the 09:28hr bus, it is early, I’ll need to pay the £2.30 fare. Too early to use the bus pass. Oh, dear, what do I do? I suppose I’ll have to get the 10:02hrs one. Which will mean waiting for ages to get seen, and another long, late day for me. Humph! 
I went to make a brew. Got the shakes just as I was refilling the kettle – the result, the finger needed some antiseptic cream putting on it, to lessen the sensation from the scolding. I am now officially, fed-up, in constant pain, and missing the nurses so much! Haha! Surely things must get better soon, I thought. 
I checked the toe as the pain is just not easing off at all, and when it comes in contact with anything, it gets unbearable! The end of the toe was going black, I think.
I handed some nibbles to Obersturmführeress Warden and Operatic Singer, Julie. And set off on my hobble to Winchester Street to catch the 40 bus to the clinic. 
car zoomed around the bend and came close to clobbering me. I honestly don’t think the driver saw me at all! Grumph! My luck might be changing though, at least she missed me! Tsk! 
ed the St Anns Well Road and began to walk to the Health Centre. When the ignorant imbecile of a pavement Cyclist, weaved his way through some pedestrians, and on to the road. How he missed the chap crossing the road was a miracle. Again, I don’t think the bozo even noticed the gentleman as he shot between the man as he went off of the pavement! Grrr! 
I kept pressing the button and got these rather failed shots in. 
a sneer and a gone-out expression, one laughed, and the other one showed no interest at all. 
. Chips, yellow tomatoes and some Polish pork loin (Sopocka) wholemeal bread thin sarnies, an apple, and a lemon mousse. Ate all of this prandicle up, with degust. A flavour-rating 0f 8/10 given to this feast. 
