Wednesday 10th July 2019
Catalan: Dimecres 10 de Juliol de 2019
02:10hrs. I had a great six hour and a bit, kip! But got no joy out of it though, for my EQ told me that the terrible happenings of the last two days, could well be made to look like picnics by today’s events! No logic or sense to the thoughts, just a knowledge that things will not go as planned. Whether is to be the late arrival of the DCUK people (After assuring me I would be visited early, 08:00hrs, the first one of the day, I was told), or some other disaster that’s lurking in wait to descend upon me! I pray my EQ is wrong, but my faith is not precisely fidimplicitary in style, but following Monday and Tuesday’s horrendous happenings, I am not confident of any success at all – indeed I expect more tribulations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and near-disasters to come today. We’ll see!
I glumly removed my odiously overweight and painful body from the cheap £300, second-hand, c1968, rusty, rickety, recliner and started the active day with an even longer than it took me yesterday first releasing. An MESNSWW (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling-No-Sensation-Wee-Wee Again the usual problem of guessing when or if, it had stopped, thanks to the view-blocking midriff, was there for me. I suppose this might make me go for it with the Weight Loss Program (or not). I could not help feeling like I did, all sour and chagrined, and not sure why? A kind of timidity, neurasthenia, anxiety, apprehensiveness, trepidation and expectancy of failure (I’ll have to make up an acronym for this, perhaps, maybe, if I can instill some drive and energy into life) binding its time, ready for some armageddon-driven calamity to eagerly strike at Inchcock with casualty making (Mental or physical) intentions! I’ve had two bad days, they seem to have knocked the wind out of my get-up-and-go apparatus. My pzazz has turned to passivity, pity! Puh!
I cleaned and sanitised the grey bucket, then to the kitchen to do the hand washing and take the medications, before doing the health checks and making a brew of tea. All the time is this feeling of gloom hanging with me, most discombobulating!
To add to my depression…
I set about swearing and mock-spitting, and struggled to update and finally finish the Tuesday dairy, and got it sent off. During these hours, it took me to complete the task, I had only six wee-wees, they were all of the SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-Wee) style. Which was good, cause I can tell when things have stopped and needed shaking, with this mode of wee-wee! Haha! At least the fingers, hands, arm and shoulder we all behaving remarkably well. I can’t say the same for the leg, that was imitating the Hokey-Cokey and the Locomotion occasionally, but even then, only for a minute or two at longest. Perhaps the EQ was wrong about the imminent disasters to come! (Mmm! – confusion reigned)
As I moved on to doing the WP reader, I heard noises nearby, knocking and banging, perhaps some drilling as well. I assumed that the DCUK chaps were doing Josie’s bathroom and old airing cupboard first. Which is just what Josie and Josie and I didn’t want. Josie has lost her usual stay in bed late kip, and I will miss getting out on the 09:30hrs bus to the clinic for the Podiatrist appointment making. Life is not a bed of roses! Hehehe!
Then I tackled the ablutionalisationing session. The pins (legs) were looking good. On the pale-side again, but this seems reasonable nowadays, for Inchcock. The old leg ulcer still looked like it might be threatening to come back, but less so than yesterday?
Harolds Haemorrhoids were painful. I’ll find out more when the Porcelain Throne arrive, which surely must be soon? I took a Senna with the morning medications earlier?
The water was not going down the sink plughole, well, it was, but so slowly! So, I have to keep covering the hole with the plug or a cloth to try and get it moving so I could use some drain-unblocker on it. Costing me a small fortune this is! Not that it was terribly successful, though. But I think it got a tad freer flowing away. Huh!
I caught the tiny burn on the knuckle on the sink plug hole, and it turned into a baby blister in seconds? Shaving, and the right hand became active again. The shaving cream I was applying, got generously spread around the head, chest, knee caps, sink, and floor! Hehe! I’m not sure why I cleaned the place up at this point, cause it is sure as heck is gonna need cleaning again soon.
I then quickly managed to cut the flesh on the cheek, under the right eye, only a tiny lesion, as the right hand did one of its neuralgia induced little dances. I think it was trying for the Bolero this time. Hahaha!
I made a start on creating this blog and did the page top and Thoughts graphics. No Porcelain Throne summoning yet, but three more wee-wees of the RPDDWW (Reluctant, Painful-Drip-Drip-Wee-Wee) mode. These are more troublesome than might appear.
I made a brew of the Glengettie tea and took a photographicalisation from the hated, light & view blocking, impossible to get to, to clean new kitchen windows. The beauty of the view did not go missed by me.
The door chimes rang out their mock-instrumental version of Dusty Springfields ♫I only want to be with you ♫. It was one of the DCUK men, telling me they had just done Josie’s and were coming to me. I could not resist asking him why? I a got a ‘How dare you’ look of daggers in return. I explained about my being told I would be the first of the day, and Josie wanting a late call. It didn’t endear me to the lad. Minutes later they returned, and after ten minutes or so of letting the door bang to each time they fetched something, one bloke came to me to say they had to go down and bring something to enable them to carry on with the job from down in the van. “That’s alright,” I said, “I’ve missed the bus anyway, so I’m stuck indoors all day, mate”. One minute later, the door slammed twice, as obviously, they left individually. They came back after, and the knocking, banging, drilling, etc. commenced. They didn’t mess about, and the job was soon reported as being done. I had to sign an electronic pad. The young chap said they have to clean-up yet. A minute later, I thanked him, and off they poddled. Then the job of my cleaning up began. I started with the kitchen. Not too bad at all! Thanks, lads.
The vent workings looked alright to me. The picture on the right is in the wet room the left one, is the old, no longer working airing cupboard.
The wet room next. Had to mop up of course, as is to be expected. But finding some sort of filler mix in the sink plug hole concerned me. If this is being left in all the sinks, no wonder the water is not draining away, and the repeated doses of sink unblocker liquid is making no difference? I had carried the chair and shoe-glide back in, but that was no problem, cause I’d only have to carry them out again with doing the mopping, then back in again. No problem for me, here.
Incidentally, I had a bit of luck in the kitchen. I managed to find five of the escaped garden peas from when I was shelling them at the weekend. Haha!
I got wit some more wee-weeing and updating this blog. Went to make another mug of tea, determined it would not go cold before I’d drank it this time. Then let it go cold while I spent some time on the balcony, taking shots down in the car park areas.
There were not many free spaces, and not much for the emergency services to get down to Woodthorpe Court. Winchester Court, which has no such problem, and had the bus stop outside their foyer door. But I’m not jealous! Hehe!
The saddest picture I took is the most beautiful to me. The beloved Tree Copse. The unfortunate bit is that I can never again take a hobble through it again. I could cry!
Got the oven warming up for the chips, and I heard something coming through the door. It was some unwanted bumf and a letter from the Cancer Screening Programme. Oh. dear! I forgot all about asking someone to call them for me when I lost the envelope. I must ask Deana if she’s in, or Julie tomorrow to call them for me. I do feel a fool, again!
I went on the Facebooking, to catch up at last. By gum, that took a few hours!
Going to get the nosh going now.
I sliced the last of the Pork Farms pie, opened a tin of beans, sliced some tomatoes and had some of the McCain’s oven chips, which were of a particular disappointment. A good flavour, though. But I had to pick out many chips with fusarium spots in them. Nothing like the McCain’s usual quality, but not disastrous. Being frozen, I could not cut out the infected parts. So lots of chips had to be dished in the bin. Even after this, some bad ones I missed, ended up on the plate.
I ate it all and enjoyed it all the same. A flavour Rating was given, of 6/10. The evening meds were taken. I was soon settled on the c1968, rickety-recliner, and off to sleep like a shot!
A noise (I think) woke me suddenly, and I had to check things out. I was in a little too much of a hurry getting out of the recliner; I lost my balance and over I went. I caught my back on the other chair on the way down to the carpet. At least I was surrounded by sturdy furniture, and getting back up was relatively easy. I checked around the flat, for fear that something had exploded, fallen over or collapsed. I found nothing. On my way to the chair, Back-Pain-Brenda kicked off, and she was more painful than I would have liked. So much so, that getting back to sleep was a no-no, I’m afraid. Well, I did eventually nod-off very late on, but the twinges kept waking me up, and the tossing and turning started Brenda off. My battle for sleep was lost really.
Heavy sigh from Inchcockski!