Tuesday 23rd July 2019
Javanese: Selasa 23 Juli 2019
00:40hrs. The previous awakenings have all been unassociated with the one before, different. This morning was noncontradictory to this pattern. I stirred in such a good mood, I thought at first that I was still sleeping and having a dream! I soon sussed-out why. It was the help I’d had from Deana yesterday. In her sorting so out the many medical related problems with appointments, Warfarin etcetera for me.
These exceptional and none-typical, rare, almost gleefull emotions were so welcome. But my EQ put a stop to my enjoying them to the full. Something soon, (possibly with regards to the medical arrangements), is going to go wrong. A suboptimal, unsatisfactory, spirit-bashing wretched complication is due, today or tomorrow. The EQ, although sometimes challenging to read, is rarely wrong! And the message was clear: A calamity emotion-wise is due! No point in fretting, nothing can be done to prevent the unknown!
I contentedly galumphed my ever-growing flobby-bellied body, from the £300, second-hand, grotty-beige coloured, seen-better-days, rusty, rickety, c1968 recliner.
I grabbed the walking stick, got my balance, and off to utilise the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket). It had been used very little overnight, and the RDD (Reluctant-Drip-Drip) wee-wee I had, added very little to the contents, although it took an inordinately long time.
The nerve-damaged leg seemed to have acquired some extra blood-papsules, spots, what looked like scratches and some more, new spider-veins had appeared. The regular pale, anaemic looking skin was no worse this morning.
Off to the kitchen. Where I rinsed out the soaking overnight hand wash bits and got them on the stand-up airer to encourage their drying process. Then got the kettle on, and did the Health Checks. The results were very pleasing (I think) today; Sys 128, Dia 71, Pulse 78, and temperature 34.8°c. The pulse had gone down a fair bit. I wonder if the lack of the INR nurse coming to take the blood, means that the level of Warfarin has gone too far up or down, and that has affected the reading level?
Shame about the hands and fingers doing a mini-dance routine as I was taking a picture of the sphygmomanometer readings. I didn’t realise until I downloaded it to Coreldraw. Hey-ho!
I took the medications, made a brew, and decided to pop out on the new unwanted, work creating, lumps of hand-flash tearing on its metal spring-clip opener that needs pushing, bending, and pulling to operate it, windows.
I took a couple of photographicalisations. One of below, showing the house and street lights of Sherwood, with Chestnut Way car park underneath.
The metal spring opener was not quick enough to tear any finger-flesh this time! Hehe!
I then went on the computer, opened CorelDraw and began to make, well adapt and put on a vignette effect on the picture. I’ll use it later for an Inchcock’s Thought graphic.
The legs, hands fingers and shoulder were all calm now. And they stayed this way for two hours or more, while I worked at the CorelDrawing.
Then I moved on to updating the Monday Inchcock Today.
Most astoundingly, and hard for even me to understand, but there was hardly any dancing, jumping, shaking or trembling from any affected part of the body at all… well, that’s not dead-accurate. The shoulder did give me some massive twitches, but only occasionally, and not for long at all. A rather warm-feeling that contained hope in there somewhere came over me. Optimistic [Temporarily of course]-Mode-Engaged! Haha!
I got the Monday blog finished and sent off to WordPress. I was getting nervous with things going so well – the EQ message kept coming to mind, I’ve no confidence at all. Sad innit?
Back to the CorelDraw graphics creating.
Then I got this blog started off.
Time to stop and get the ablutions done. Back later, my fellow tellurians.
I needed a Porcelain Throne session. Still painful and very much a struggle. By the time I get to the Doctors. To mention this ‘Issue’ amongst others, it will be three weeks of agonising throne visiting. Of course getting me an emergency visit, by the delightfully entrancingly beauteous Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden and Cosmopolitan Model Deana, for a week, I anticipate the problem may have cleared up. Then again, I’ve been suffering with erm… over-firmness and bleeding for a fortnight now.
Just the one cut while shaving. Dropped the toothpaste. Dropped the razor twice, and stuck the scissors in my finger. All normal there then! Hahaha!
All dressed and smelling a lot better now, I made up three bags and took them to the waste chute. Got the three-wheeler guide out, and thought I must have a look to see if I can do anything about the brakes, later. Which was a rather bold idea, considering my total lack of engineering skills and the Polyneuropathy movement affected the right-hand side of the stumpy yet wobbly body! Hat and sleeveless jacket on, and off, out to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Obergruppenführeress Warden’s Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Memory blank message-giving and taking office. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from. Rumourmongering Clinic, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus, Portakabin.
Just a social visit.
I took a photographicalisation of Winwood and Winchester Court, and the new passageway that is nearly finished, between Woodthorpe Court and Winwood Court, as I hobbled along Chestnut Way. Coming on well, now. The newly relaid again turf is looking better now we have had some rain. How long before cars go on it, dogs poo on it, and yobboes tear it up? Pessimistic? Me? Hahaha!
Nearing the hut, I saw how the same little yellow wildflowers as the ones I shot yesterday, had been battered by the overnight winds. Many thin bee-like insects were showing great interest in the petals. But the close-up shot I tried to take of them, just went to prove my lack of photographicalisational skills and how the hand was shaking. Tsk!
I got in the cabin, and several of the NCH chaps were in there on their laptops. Deana and Julie were busy in their office. Must be a hectic time for them, with the upcoming relocation into the Winwood Court building. I offered the ladies a quick good morning, and I handed out some nibbles to the gentlemen. I even got a smile out of some of them. Then, out and over the road to the bus stop. Where the tenants were having a good chinwag, and I joined in, and some laughs were inspired. I had a struggle getting the trolley on to the bus. I was soon chatting away, sat next to Mary.
– : As the bus stopped near the Asda store on Front Street, in Arnold, I was getting off with the three-wheeler trolley-guide, last, as is usual, and the trolley tipped over, and I followed it to the floor! Thanks, to the leg doing its involuntary ungraceful version of the Bharatnatyam, with the heebie-jeebies thrown in for good measure! The driver came to assist me down the aisle and off the bus. I did feel the right Klutz! I think I banged or pulled something in the lower back. But the pain soon eased off.
Mary showed some concern for me, bless her. We both went into the Asda store. I needed some Uncle Benn’s BBQ flavour rice, bacon fries and bread. Mary and I split-up, as I went in search of the rice. Ending up asking an assistant where they were, and she kindly walked me to them; at the far end of the store! Hehe! Kind of her. Then I had to walk back to the other end again, to get the bread and chips. I found some wholemeal flatbreads, which will go in the freezer, I hope. I also got a pack of cheapo lollies. I paid at the self-serve till without any problems.
I realised that I might not make it to the bus stop on time. So, my top rate of knots (fair enough, it might not be much, but it got me breathing heavily). Mary was in the shelter, she said she is going to town on a 58 bus. The bloke behind when I snapped Mary, looked a bit guilty of something, judging by his facial reaction. Haha!
The 58 arrived, and I bade farewell to Mary. The L9 followed, and I wearily got on and settle down on a side-saddle seat. The driver was the same one we had when going to Arnold, and he waited until I was sat down before moving off, I thanked him with hand signals!
The bus soon had us back at the flats. My back was stinging a little again, as I hobbled along Chestnut Way to Woodthorpe Court. Which had had a long-overdue facelift and clean-up. I got up and in the flat without seeing anyone.
I almost went in the wet room for a wee-wee. Had to stop myself realising I didn’t need one! Sheesh!
Another letter from the Nottingham City Homes. Regrettably, about rats being seen near the Woodthorpe Court lobby entrance door! It said that the Tenants leaving waste and rubbish outside the caretaker’s area might be attracting the vermin. If the bags of waste are too big to go down the (much reduced in size opening, to help avoid blockages in the shaft) chute, “You may want to consider splitting the bag into two separate bags so that the items can be disposed of in the correct manner.” They advised that residents do not throw out food for the birds, or throw food items out of their windows. Section 3.16 of your tenancy agreement does explain how you should dispose of your waste if you live in a flat.
Well, I agree with what they say. I, personally, myself, me, Inchcock, only leave recyclable waste bags outside. But, they have a point about this, I hadn’t considered. The empty food cans, although rinsed out, may well still have a bit of food in them. The rats can smell this, and will bite through searching for fodder! So, I’ll stop doing this from now on.
I have now got four waste bins in the flat, and regularly, well, daily dispose of them down the chute. It cost a bit in buying so many black bags for the general waste and white ones for the recyclable stuff. Yet, I still spasmodically see folks using the old, but looking new, orange bags previously supplied for the recyclable use, adopting them as shopping carrier bags, now they are not being distributed. Feeding the birds is a no-no!
It made me wonder, when we had a delay in the building update works, by a discovery of pipistrelle bats, that are a protected species. The hassle this caused! I hope they do not make Homo sapiens a protected species. How would they punish North Vietnam, Russia, China… in fact, any Government! Haha!
I made a brew while cooking, and pondered on the week’s appointments up to now, anyway. Busy!
I got the nosh served up. What a disappointment, though. It looked just fine at first. Chicken breast, tomatoes, gherkins, garden peas, and some of the bacon flavoured fries.
The taste-buds were limbering up, and I got it served up.
When I was tucking into it, I realised that the chicken was not as fresh as it looked. A close nasal inspection and I dispensed with the chicken breasts, immediately! The rest of the meal was fine! A taste Rating of 6.5/10. Note the two vinegar flavoured rice cakes in place of bread. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
As I was washing up the pots, the and its cloud formations looked fantastic, so much so, I got the Nikon camera and took a picture through the open, unwanted, work-creating, view-blocking, light-limiting, thick-framed new kitchen window. (In the morning, I tried to use the Red Eye remover, to take out a spot. But it was not an entirely successful first attempt. The place I tried to remove can still be seen. Huh!
As I settled down to watch some TV, the ankle-ulcer and right leg started to tingle, and a sense that I had worms inside the limb, wriggling about began. I reckon I could see the skin /flesh moving!
As for my viewing the Rumpole of the Baily episode, that lasted around five minutes before I nodded off!
The landline rang, and the light woke me, but, by the time I got to the phone, it stopped!
I watched intermittent five-minutes worth of TV, then fell asleep, repeatedly for an hour or so.
I roused myself and got the hand laundry washed, rinsed and hung up above the sink. Then got the medications taken, and back in the dangerous, unreliable, sometimes working, £300, second-hand, gungy-beige coloured, c1968 recliner again.
I was woken again by the landline red light flashing. Too late once more, and the caller rang off before I got to the telephone. It might have been the phlebotomy nurse? Oh, dear!
I’m not sure about how things went in a way, today. The frequency of the wee-wees had significantly reduced. Good or bad? Only three adverse occurrences of the leg doing its dance routine – but the last one had me over and onto the bus floor? The ankle vesication appeared so much calmer and less vivid, yet the sensation of worms in the ulcer was stronger? THe legs are both far thinner now, but one or the other is always fatter than the other one? Why am I still… Oh, it doesn’t matter. Haha!
10 thoughts on “Inchcock – Tues 23 July 2019: Fell over getting off the bus, otherwise an archetypical day for the old gollumpus!”
Rats about the garbage. I think rats get into everything, food smell or not. Falling is no fun, always embarrassing and quite dangerous. Nice you got through the bus fall dilemma relatively unscathed. That’s a right Christmasy looking schedule, but it looks to be more naughty than nice. Well arranged meal, too bad it wasn’t very good.
I’d sooner be a bat than a rat, and get protected, Sir. Haha!
Spot on with tumbling, Tim. The being picked up after a fall, I find red-face-making (but thankfully someone was there to do it, all the same).
I wish they would come and fix the intercom soon. 90% of us old-uns can’t hear it when it rings. And Deana says there are at least 12 folks in our block, where the machine has stopped working altogether! So much for Mr Snotty and his superior way, who fitted it! Tsk!
I’ve only just realised why the chicken might have gone off for – the power cuts from the UKCD men, fridge and freezer off?
I’m getting a ‘Soulful’ Pulled Jackfruit, smokey BBQ chilli with corn and beans delivered later. Costly, but a reet treat! Oh, by the way, do you reckon it will be alright for me to put some black bean sauce in it?
The typing is hard this morning, the opposite of yesterday, jumping shoulder and electrified fingers! You would not believe how many mistakes I made doing this reply. Humph!
TTFN mate, thanks.
How ironic: I thought the chicken breast I ate Sunday was OK, but it turned out to be something else. In a word: “diarrhea”! You had the good sense not to eat your murder chicken. Since I didn’t, I spent Monday in misery. The otrher two breast from the package will go to the landfill.
Oh, dearie me, I am sorry to hear that, Doug.
It’s constipation I’ve had for weeks now. As you read, I am taking Senna tablets, but they don’t seem to be letting things so, without bleeding and pain. I booked an appointment with the Doctor, two weeks ago. It’s on Friday, a list of issues as long as my arm to take with me.
Typing this and the last reply, took me ages. The Peripheral neuropathy nerve-loss is making the right-hand fingers ignorant of any contact they are making now. Dropping things as well. The senses should come back again, I hope. I’ve lost count of the corrections I’ve had to make, there is likely some I have missed.
Sorry cocker, I’m waffling again!
We old curmudgeons do that, don’t we? Hahaha!
Cheers, I hope things improve for you soon!
Hey! We have earned the right to be cremudgenly! And to grow beards and complain about the youth of today. LOL!
Hope you get relief from what ails you. Constipation isn’t the problem. It’s passing the accumulation later! Ugh!
Curmdugeonlyness, is our right! Hehe!
Every Throne visit has been a bloody and painful one, for weeks now!
I’ve got Julie to phone the pharmacist for me. I’ve gone two days without a beta-blocker, and gits didn’t bat an eye about promising to delivery them yesterday and not coming! No Sorry in the conversation! Just ‘It will be delivered this afternoon.’ That likely means like last month, a 20:00hrs arrival, if they come at all. I think they are trying to help me move on to better things… in heaven! Gits!
Sorry Doug, waffling again. Tsk!
I’ve had problems with my pharmacy/ chemist delivery prescriptions. It is physically difficult for me to pick them up. I have to drive my littlke VW Golf Sportwagen down to the Safeway, heft it out of the back end, walk all the way to the back of the big store where the pharmacy is, wait till they wait on me, then repeat the reverse of that. While a well person would have no ptroblem with that, the reason I want a delivery is because it is physically difficult for me to do it! I finally told them I’d just pick prescriptions up all the time because they had difficulty providing this service. The idiot manager look at me with a goofy smile and said something like “That sounds ;like a good idea”, pleased with himself for making a happy customer!
Hahaha!, sorry didn’t mean to laugh, Doug. But the excellent way you came out with it tickled me, so much. Which is a miracle of sorts, the way I feel at the moment, Sir.
Sometimes you have to follow the advice of that country song about the gambler – not a genre I listen to, but this was playing all over the place all the time at one point, soi I couldn’t NOT listen to it! LOL!- where you have to know when to throw them, when hold them or some such thing. Anyway, it would have taken much less time and effort to say I just gave up. I made him happoy, and a happy manager is one who thinks he’s done his job.
W. Edwards Deming, quality guru, wrote that management can’t do their job because they don’t know what their job is. This manager hasn’t identify his responsibility to me, the customer, so will never improve his pharmacy’s record for delivery of prescriptions to customers -especially those with physical limitations! – until he understands that his pharmacy isn’t a pill dispensory, it’s a customer satisfaction operation where delivery of prescriptions is a to-the-customer’s-door the same day their automated system says the prescription will be delivered. The custiomer drives the way his pharmacy does it’s jopb, not his pharmacy tries to force the customer into doing his job! There are two people who are tedious toi deal with: English majors (“Grammar Nazis”) and quality practitioners (higher expectations that everything is done to the proper international standard – “ISO freaks”). Unfortunately for Mr. Pharmaxcy, I happen to be both.
Aha, a bit of common sense there, Doug.
I fank you.