Wednesday 17th July 2019
Norwegian: Onsdag 17 Juli 2019
02:25hrs. Woke and the mind-musing began instantly: I’ve got to store water today, to cover for the cut-offs promised for the day, (as I must also remember for supply interruptions for three other days to come, Tues 23rd off for approx nine-hours, Friday 26th, and Monday 29th July, Tsk!). Will the INR nurse call today or not? Why had I stupidly left the bamboo socks on overnight? The Morrison delivery is coming twixt 06:00>0:700hrs. So, I must get the ablutions done at 05:00hrs.
And then, as I dragged my overweight, fubsy body from second-hand, £300, near-dilapidated, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, rusty, sometimes working, uncomfortable recliner; Where had all the ailment pains gone? To add to my early confusion, there was no call for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne. Had I died in the night? Was I still asleep? Am I to suffer another bad day? For some unfathomable reason, I felt such sorrow when I thought of the 1962 Cup Final when Spurs luckily, jammily, flukily undeservingly beat Burnley. Had I finally gone bonkers? Will I ever wake up again? I don’t think I could face reincarnation, not after the hell of this unlucky, inauspicious, ominous, Whoopsiedangleplop-filled, saddening, ill-fated, cursed, adverse, disadvantageous, painful, challenging, forsaken, unprosperous, pathetic, pitiable, fear-driven, bedevilled, distressfull, minacious, bodeful, Accifauxpas-filled, ignominious lesser intelligent and far more eensy-weensy equipt for manhood, life. Hehehe!
Next, as I moved (unthinkingly) without the walking stick, in response to a sudden desire, partly-logically made though, to get the hand-laundry done before any water cuts arrive, I was brought back to part-sanity and reality, as I stubbed the toe on the way to the kitchen! I fear a couple of licentious ecphonetic words in response were uttered, not that I had much time for any guilt. With no stick handy, I wobbled a tad, and clouted the right knee against the door frame! An instantly watchable bruise came out within seconds! Tsk!
I got the washing in the sink, gave my best agitational wash, and while I left it to soak for a while, I got the kettle on and grabbed the hemadynamometer, took the tablets out to take, and did the health checks. Another good set of results all around this morning Sys 146, Dia 65, Pulse 81, and temperature 34.7°c. I was well pleased with these readings. Despite the EQ telling me not to get overly confident.
After taking the medications, I had a wee-wee. Using the wet room’s WC. Oh, dearie me! The DTAO (Dribbling-Tinkling-All-Over) mode wee-wee, left me with a lot of cleaning up to do in the wet room! Humph!
The Neurotmesis, Axonotmesis, Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Polyneuropathy, and/or Peripheral Neuralgia affected leg, looked in a right state. The sensation of worms wriggling under the skin was getting worse. This may have caused me to have done some more nocturnal scratching, I don’t know. Keeping the socks on overnight didn’t help, I suppose. What an Alter cocker!
I disinfected the place, got a new pair of PPs on, and back to the kitchen. Where I got a load of water from the cold tap, and into some jugs and the two remaining usable, unburnt saucepans I own. I filled the crock-pot as well.
Got on the computer to start this post going, got as far as here, and it was time to get the ablutions sorted out. So, off to the wet room.
A wee-wee first job. An unexpected variety, this time. A PSAOS (Powerfull-Spraying-All-Over-Showering) wee-wee. There weren’t many parts of the wet room that were not affected by the spraying all over spurting sprits! Gawd heavens! Cleaning and disinfecting took me ages – a good job I got the ablutions started so early!
The teggies were done, then the shaving, with a few minor nicks here and there. Because the hand, fingers, and shoulder started dancing about at the wrong time again. But no complaints, they’ve been fair to me up to now. Then the stand-up wash was done.
I made sure that the sink plug was left out. I left the cloths soaking and sanitising, in a jug.
Then, I decided to take some shots of the outside from the wickedly troublesome new balcony windows. The left-hand metal spring opening clip, that needs pushing, bending and pulling at the same time to release the window inwards, window, was handled with aplomb and I began to feel a ‘Smug-Mode’ coming on.
A reasonably decent shot, I thought. (Praise-Seeking Mode-Engaged)
I went to the right-hand window. But this hand metal spring opening clip, that needs pushing, bending and pulling at the same time to release the window inwards, would not move, or I just n longer had the strength to move it, to allow me to take a photograph of the undecided to grow or not new grass lawn below near the end car park.
So I gave it one more try, caught the finger against the side of the frame, swore a lot, then I gave up even trying to open this window. Instead, I opened one of the slidings the next window along to release the end one. I leaned out as far as I dare and twisted around to the right to get this shot, of the patchwork new grass lawn.
I found a few decent welts where I had trapped the little finger, in my “I should have known better than to try to use it” effort to open the damned-dangerous window spring clip that needs pushing, bending and pulling at the same time to release the window! Humph! Silly-Me-Mode engaged!
I made a mug of tea and refilled the kettle, a good habit to get into, with the water going to be cut off so often over the next week or so. It’s a challenge all these two years with more to come hassle, disruption, and botherations to come. I hope the new tenants who come in enjoy it. For most of us. The memory of the workings will not be recalled favourably. For me, the carpets being ruined by the Willmott Brown subcontracting plasterer, the failed and changed appointments. The mess made and having to be cleaned up, the hot water going off. The power having been cut off for nine hours. By the none-communicative DCUK mob, and the food that had to be thrown away from the freezer and fridge, as they killed all the power to the flat. Just a few of the things that still wrangle!
With the I’m still uncertain if I will live long enough for things to get finished. But I’m so disappointed with things. The Neurotmesis, Axonotmesis, Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Peripheral neuralgia, or Postherpetic neuralgia, Duodenal Ulcer, Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger (Take yer pick, Hehe!). Then the Stroke making things worse. Depression can come on from nowhere, and I do hate that more than having too many ‘issues’, as the Podiatrist said when refusing to treat me! See, I just can’t win! Hahaha! Gripe-Time over, Sorry.
The Intercom chime rang out, but I only just heard it, and that is on full volume. If I had not got the hearing aids in, I wouldn’t have heard it, that’s for sure. So, the new Intercom System that lets us see who is calling also prevents us from hearing when they call! Another of the so-called improvements that don’t work for me. Being the first time I have used it, I was a bit nervous of getting it right, but it went well, and the Morrison Man was soon at the door with the biggest ever load for delivery.
The bloody leg started Hokey-Cokeying while he was taking the stuff through to the kitchen for me. I must have looked a right twit! But the lad seemed to understand after I explained why I was this was leg stamping and spinning around, and the stick was flailing a bit.
Mostly the order consisted of spring water and kitchen towels. Both hard to carry from the shops, with the room for storage so tiny in the trolleys. The weight of the water and the bulk of the towels. (Oh, I slipped into griping-Mode there again, Sorry folks.)
I thanked him for his help and patience, and off he trotted. Nice bloke.
I needed yet another wee-wee and used cautiously the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket), bearing in mind the earlier spraying wee-wees. Just as well, cause it was another of the PSAOS (Powerfull-Spraying-All-Over-Showering) evacuations, but I coped using the grey bucket, I just to take care of the thin edge of the receptacle.
Putting the things into the freezer, I started to re-sort a drawer to make some room in it, and clang! The damned right hand and leg started off dancing, yet once more. The draw and its contents tumbled to the floor! I had a job picking up the things, but managed without any more incidents, to get it back into the freezer. Still, it gave me a rare opportunity to clean the draw. Hehehe!
The storing of the goods took a great deal of time, and I had used the stepladders to put the porridge and noodles in their correct location on top of one of the wall cabinets. It became apparent to me, how nervous I had become of the legs etc. playing up, for I would not go on the third and top step. On the second rung, I had the top of the ladders to grab if anything started dancing. But, they didn’t play-up.
I made a brew and topped up the kettle straight away in case the water might go off at any time now. I was hoping that the INR Warfarin nurse would call today. A lot of odd noises about this morning, but I cannot identify what they are, whining and pinging sort of sounds.
I spent ages starting this blog going.
Sister Jane rang me to tell me she had not had the diary yet. Then it dawned on short, plump, uneducated, socially inept, bespectacled, hearing aids wearing, Nottinghamian pensioner, what a complete and utter pillock he really is! – I’d not updated yesterday’s blog and sent it off yet! A right nebbish!
So, I set about trying to get it done ASAP. The plan was inhibited by frequent DTAO (Dribbling-Tinkling-All-Over) mode wee-wees, and the Virgin Media keeps going down and slow for a few times. Grobblebogglesworth!
Hours later, I’d got the Tuesday post finally updated and sent off. Crikey, it’s nearly afternoon already! Then I had to go on CorelDraw to make some graphics up and do the next days template.
I made a mug of tea first. The water was running from the tap, but it may have been off earlier. While making the brew, I noticed a tractor with some lawn grass on it, making its way towards the end to our end of Chestnut Way. I limped sticklessly onto the balcony and to some photographs. It looks like they are replacing all of the turfs.
I started creating the graphics needed. A long-time later, I got the graphics done. During the time spent. I was invariably accompanied by banging and knocking noises, no drilling though, from above. Drove me barmy it did – still, its got to be done. Huh! No damned peace here anymore!
Then, fancy that and can you believe it… Humph and Tsk!
It got worse, moments later, the noises from above stopped, but a new sound was heard in or near the flat. I went for a look around and found two letters had been delivered. The first one… unbelievable, it was from Virgin Media – telling me they were putting the monthly bill up by £3.36! F’ing cheek! Faster Ultra-Reliable Broadband waffle etc. That bloody Fries bloke is becoming my most hated git in the land! Although he has several others in contention. Haha!
The second one was from the surgery.
Telling me that I have to ring the surgery (Great when they of all people know about my hearing problems!), after 11;00hrs to arrange the CHD health check. I must have nothing to eat or drink, other than water… (Water the thing that is being turned of over four days in my block of flats), from 22:00hr the night before the appointment. Bring a urine sample with me, which means I have to go to the surgery again before the meeting to get a vial to use. Make an early appointment (Huh! When can I get ever get an early appointment with them? Very rarely!) Oh, and I’ve to take the medications as usual.
Life is pissing me off big time lately! No rest, just problems all the time. Like this week, no INR nurse attended to take the Warfarin blood sample. So I expect a letter or phone call from them about this when they eventually realise! I think things are getting on top of me. The mess made by power-cut off by the DCUK mob. I’m stuck indoors so cannot get out to shop. I’ve had a Morrisons order this morning, but have put in another order from Iceland for stuff I had hoped to get to the shops to buy. Do I sound a little niggled? Tsk! I am!
Oh, the drilling and banging have started again.
I’m giving up. I’ll get some nosh, a wash and settle down to try and rest for a bit. Naturally, this will not be achievable, but you never know! TTFN, until the morning, if I make it through the night… as somebody sang. Hehe!
No sleep, nod even a little nod-off.
So I got the nosh sorted out. As I was preparing the meal, we had a few drops of rain, but it soon stopped. I think we need some more, the TV said we are in for thunderstorms on Friday and or Saturday.
No doubt things will need me to go out on Friday, miss the INR nurse most likely, get soaked through, the trolley wheels will get filthy and make a right mess in the flat, I’ll get on the wrong bus coming home, probably get pneumonia, book an appointment with the surgery for two weeks time and snuff-it while waiting… Oh, I’m off again moaning in advance this time! Sorry. As Tim Price puts it so aptly: I’ve become a cantankerous old curmudgeon! Hahaa!
I made a delightful looking nosh, that I was sure I’d enjoy. Smoked mackerel in sauce, chips, fresh garden peas, beetroot, great tasting tomatoes and some potato cakes. A naughty Limoncello dessert for afters. But, by the time I had made and served it up, it wasn’t so desirable. The tomatoes, garden peas and beetroot were fine. All the rest seemed unappealing, and much of it was wasted. I think a Flavour-Rating of 4.5/10 is generous. That was for the peas, tomatoes and Limoncello.
By being in a tremulous, jittery mood with life at the moment, I turned, ashamedly so now, to the comfort eating after washing the pots, and getting the hand-washed clothes on the airer, I visited the nibble cupboard! Crisps, a sucker and cheesy curls were my comforters!
I did watch some TV for a while, but concentrating was difficult, due to Colin Cramps having a cruelly vicious go at me, on and off all night! I took an extra pain-killer and used half-a-tube of pain gel. All to no avail, though.
The really odd thing about this night-long visitation from Colin Cramps was that he did not bother the knees, legs or hip area at all! But gave me painfull pastings, on of all things, the toes and fingers! The toes being the surprising targets. When I got to sleep, the pain from the toes would start again and wake me up! Repeatedly.
So, it was a late, and I was not in good condition, physically or mentally. Fair enough, this begs the question; When am I ever in a reasonable condition mentally or physically nowadays? Humph!