Inchcockski. Saturday 17th August 2019: I think I might be going bonkers?

2019 Aug 17

2019 Aug 17

Saturday 17th August 2019

Croatian: Subota, 17 Kolovoza 2019. godine

Born on 17 August 1907: Gustav Schwarzenegger was an Austrian police chief, postal inspector, and a military police officer. Father of Hollywood star Arnold Schwarzenegger.

23:35hrs: I’d fallen asleep so early yesterday, but woke in a decent frame of mind, almost to the point of contentedness!

wd 0.0.255a As I was removing the legs from the chair they were spread on, (the £300, second-hand, grotty-beige coloured, c1968, rickety recliner is not currently working), I managed without any effort whatsoever, to clout my left ankle on the leg of the swivel chair! I pulled the foot away, and hit the top of the already stubbed toe! A quiet-mild oath was muttered.

I contacted my inner launch-control and rose to get to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket). Another of the SNS (Short-No-Sensation) wee-wees. No pain at all, but working out when the trickling-tap had stopped needed all my attention. Haha! 

I took the bucket with me and cleaned and sanitised it in the wet room. No call to the Porcelain Throne as yet. The toe and ankle were beginning to sting and sing a bit! I got the hand-washing hung to dry off. Made a brew, took the medications, and as I was returning to the computer, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room.

WD 0.0.255 The evacuation was not only massive but was most resistant. I had to employ all of my limited strength to force things along. Once the action started, I wondered if it would ever end! The most facinorous visit in years!

6Sat01I cleaned the blood, the Throne, and myself, and returned to the kitchen to make and take a Movicol and Senna tablet. I noted, how oddly I was walking, Haha!

I took a photographicalisation of the midnight skyline, and returned with a refreshed mug of tea, and started to update the blog.

The computer seemed so slow. It took me until 02:45hrs to get it finished. I had a slightly different LWDS (Long-Weak-Dribbling-Sprinkling) wee-wee. Then posted off the dairy.

I went on the WordPress Reader section. I spent a long time on here today, so much good stuff to peruse and comment on.

After several more of the weak-unwilling-sprinkly wee-wees, I made a start on this post.

Then I went on Facebook, I’ve fallen far behind on it with the time being limited by flood damage limitationalisationing, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, medical visits and my need to catch up on my sleep. 03:50hrs: Here goes, on Facebooking.

WD 0.0.255 06:55hrs: Slow going, thanks to:

Virgin blue narrow

Stopped to make a brew and eat a Club orange biscuit. Wee-wee update, just two, both of the SGSS (Short-Gently-Sprinkling-Spraying) variety, while I have been doing the Facebooking, up to now, they seem to have steadied down?

07:30 Went on the TFZer site. Got the Facebooking finished at last. Phew! Made another cuppa, took a wee-wee and started on CorelDrawing to make up some graphics for the templates. Another long slog of a job. The fingers are not doing their usual jumping, but they are not recording anything they touch much, hence, for a very aggravatingly long time being spent correcting and editing. Not that it bothered me, of course… Ahem!

11:25hrs. Sister Jane rang, but unfortunately, I was in a low mood at the time. She said they were considering coming to see me. But if they did, I’d say something wrong, or get the hump with being nitpicked at. I just can’t take any criticism at the moment. With the hassle of the new ailments, added appointments etc. to cope with. So I told her straight, I was not in a communicative frame of mind. I suppose I might have upset (unintentionally) her a little. But Nottingham Forest is the last of my worries nowadays. I more or less promised to try for next weekend. But I’m right depressed today. I was grand yesterday and earlier this morning. Blood tests Monday at the surgery for 07:30hrs, no, that’s for Tuesday. Then I have to make my way to the Nottingham City hospital stroke ward, for an assessment that goes on for two hours. Trying to clean up after floods, I got the shakes and dancing routine! Clouted my head on the shelf. I’m too low for a visit at the moment. And tomorrow I have to get Josie’s cheesy potato meal done. The haemorrhoids are bleeding. So many things all at once. I am becoming a sad person. I can’t cope with being told what to do, with smug, simple-sounding, ‘Well you must…’ advice from people who do not know my situation or problems. Sorry about that, I’m sinking into a miserable morass, I think.

But, I’m going to try and get myself feeling better. Food might help. I’ve got a potato and peas cooking. I’m not very happy with myself.

6Sat02aAt last, I’ve got a couple of page top graphics in hand, at long last. I’ll do some ‘Thoughts’ graphics and rhymes next, but, a mug of tea and a wee-wee first. Then back on CorelDrawing.

I took a photo of the wonderful sky. But still, I was feeling somewhat low and annoyed with myself. Irritable, ashamed, useless, and it took some shaking off. I think I’ll mention these moods to the nurse in the morning at the blood tests. If the listening nurse does me.

12:35hrs, got the thoughts finished. And suddenly I seemed to hear an odd noise, so I went on a hobble-about to investigate.

6Sat03WD 0.0.255 Oh, dear, It was the water spitting and bubbling out of the large saucepan on the cooker! I’d left the heat on the potato far too high! Had to clean the stove and the floor. So n0w the arthritic knees are playing up, after the getting down and up. Ah, well!

I closed down everything with the computer. Took the medications. Had a horrendously 6Sat03asurprising BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) wee-wee. Then got the munificent nosh prepared and served up. The Leicestershire red cheese is excellent for cooking.

The meal did nothing to cheer me up at all. However, I still enjoyed, nay; relished it, all the same. Unfortunately, a mind-blast of worryingly nefarious, fretting, self-hating, and depression, well, more of melancholia overtook the grey-cells as I finished noshing. This took the benefit of the 8/10 Taste-Rated fodder. Although the subjects and topics going through the brain were not wanted, I felt a bit like a solo, companionless deipnosophist. Haha!

6Sat04I got the washing up done, and the wicked and unneeded weariness began, and I became a useless article.

I got the medications taken and settled to watch some crap on TV, it didn’t matter what it was to me. It was only a way of getting some nodding-off done, thus hopefully escaping this rather harrowing, depressive psychosis I’d, unfortunately, found myself in. At first, the plan worked great, and I slipped into the land of nod quickly.

WD 0.0.255 But, into a slumber that was filled with dreams. They were like rapid-fire representations of my fears and worries. So open and clear.

wd 0.0.255a I was happy when I somehow or other, fell out of the £300 second-hand, rickety recliner, ending up on my bum, with one leg still sticking up on the chair, and woke with the mind temporarily, content, just happy that I had woken up and been freed of that damned nightmare! One part of the hallucinations, involved a relative from many years ago, Ralph or Ray, who lived in Ratcliffe-on-Trent. He was a hero of mine in those days, rode a bike everywhere I think; He was talking to me in this flat and telling me not to bother, it’s not worth the effort?

WD 0.0.255 I’d recalled this bit about Ralph, and pondered over it before I even attempted to get myself back upright. My getting back into the chair, was amazingly easy for me? I sat a while, but the mind started kicking-off again with its Worry-Storming.

I got up and made a mug of tea. Realising the right knee might have taken a clout in the fall, I applied some of the Pain-Gel. Then got back down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, grottily-beige coloured, rickety recliner, to drink the brew.

Thank heavens, the mind must have been getting tired, for it let me drift-off, and I slept right through undisturbed any further, for about five hours. Bliss!

8 thoughts on “Inchcockski. Saturday 17th August 2019: I think I might be going bonkers?

  1. Made a penne-based meal that included albacore for protein. Little did I realize at the time that yesterday was my kitty boys’ holiday – Black Cat Day – or I would have opened a can of albacore so they could have the tuna water off the can (oddly, they won’t eat the tuna…)!

    That little bit of serendipity was missed as I learned of the death of a dear, old frien earlier that day, blackening my mood and awareness ofr the rest of the world around me.

    Good, though, that the moment I pop the lid on the albacore, the kitty boys come running! It is magic how they sort out the tuna can pop from the pop of other foods! Plus, they love, love, love that tuna water that otherwise would be wasted down the kitchen sink.

    The joy of seeing the kitty boys enjoying an opportunity for a favorite treat helped soften the sadness I felt at the earlier news. Life goes on, eh?!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Albacore tuna, had to look that one up, Doug. I imagine its th same over there, but the tuna I get for Josie’s meal, has either, Spring water, Brine or Natural juices in the can. I’ve taken to it, the brine being my favourite. Many years ago, Lady and Cyril would just lick the liquid and leave the fish, too!
      So sorry to hear about your freind, mate. We all wait in line. In my case wondering whats ahead, peace I would hope.
      We must persist while we can, and with the boys to help distract you, hopefully, a little love and rest.
      THe Alert Alarm system I am on, has local staff on it. Which is goood for hearing better,
      TTTFN

      Like

      • Here, it’s plain water or vegetable oil. I prefer the chunk version because the other one always strikes me as tail ends of the canning process. The oil version just seems too heavy in taste, not as tasty.

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  2. Sounds like things were a bit of a bloody, boiling over mess? It’s a lot of work thinking about appointments, medications and daily diddling around, let alone executing the minutia of keeping it all straight and then carrying out the gargantuan effort of getting here, there, and yonder. On the other hand, you might get a bit depressed, but you seem to have little time to get bored. At least you managed a really decent looking meal out of the otherwise muddled day.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Spoken and put so well, by a fellow sufferer, Tim!
      So true about the no time to get bored. Everything takes so much longer to get done after the stroke, no driving licence allowed, nowhere to stoe a batmobile, buses not turning up, changed appointments, electricians who cut off the electricity supply for nine-hours while fitting the sprinklers, plumbers twice this week, resulting in there leaving worse floods than I had before, a 12-week course on After-Stroke survival – which of course one week will be missed due to staff holidays, and added on at the end, a two hours session at the Stroke Unit on Tuesday, a new set of blood tests, problems with the med… Oh, sorry, I’m waffling again, Tim.
      This morning the stomach has swollen up like a wobbly balloon, and the innards rumbling and grumbling… I’m doing it again, Tsk!
      The nosh was a saviour amidst the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and
      a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination!
      Your words wot I nicked! Hehehe!

      Liked by 1 person

      • Hopefully your swollen stomach and rumbling innards isn’t an alien’s spawn getting ready to burst forth. I think a lot of the mysteries associated with your flat have to be partly due paranormal phenomena. Could also be that you were born under a bad sign. Do you remember the group Cream? They were a 1960s British rock power trio consisting of drummer Ginger Baker, guitarist/singer Eric Clapton and lead singer/bassist Jack Bruce. One of their songs is called “Born Under a Bad Sign”. The first verse is

        “Born under a bad sign.
        I’ve been down since I began to crawl.
        If it wasn’t for bad luck,
        I wouldn’t have no luck at all.”

        You’re not alone in the world of mishaps and whoopsiedangleplops.

        Liked by 1 person

      • I think they stole that ode from me? Haha!
        I do recall the group, but I was busy working chasing and losing women at the time. Tsk!
        I must try to think on the bright side of things – but that will not come over as funny, would it. My depressionalistic nature suits me. Be prepared for the next calamity, that’s my motto! Hehehe!
        Bruce Springsteen has revealed he’s suffered two emotional breakdowns.
        Two members of my favouritest group ever, The Shadows, Hank Marvin was wearing a navy, chevron-patterned jacket which … He had been signed off work because he was suffering from depression. That he said drove him to the brink.
        Bruce Welsh knows he is lucky to be alive after a failed depression-driven suicide attempt and a battle with cancer.
        Getting help is not easy.

        TTFN mate, cheers.

        Like

      • Severe depression is really difficult to deal with. I’ve lost many friend’s to severe depression.

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