Inchcockski. Saturday 24th August 2019: Exasperated!

Saturday 24th August 2019

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 24ain Awst 2019

On this day the entertainment world lost Richard Attenborough and Julie Harris

23:10hrs: I woke up, to face another uphill-struggle with Arthur Itis, to free myself from the clutches of the £300, second-hand, grotty-beige coloured, near-dilapidated, dusty, rusty, rickety, rotting, recidivating recliner. Once I had got myself semi-perpendicular, on my legs, the pain eased considerably. And, welcomingly so!

A few paces to the famously salvational GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for an RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) wee-wee.

I hobbled to the kitchen and checked out the hand-washed clothes that were hanging to dry. But the thermal long-sleeved shirt, bamboo socks and the oven-mitt were all still so wet!

I did my best to thread the shirt and socks on the bendy upright airer. The oven-mitts will have to wait to be done later. About October, I reckon. Hehe!

I took the medications and made a brew of tea. I had a little self-kvell about how I was managing this morning. Arthur Itis was getting worse again, walking was getting more complicated, and the innards had started rumbling and grumbling! But, I was coping with what was almost contempt with the hassles! I sort of emitted, a ‘Sod you!” to them! Puzzling myself here!

It took me an awfully long time, but I got the Saturday blog finished and posted off. Smugness creeping in here! Haha!

A visit to the Porcelain Throne soon put an end to my smugness! Cor, Lord love a duck! I doubt if any more time than three-seconds had gone before the evacuation was started of its own accord, and it being over and done with! Talk about fluidification! Another lengthy cleaning up session was needed.

I had a look at the legs to assess how things were going with that supplier of pain Arthur Itis, and the possible new leg-ulcer was progressing.

Arthur’s knees were a tad swollen and of course still painful. He’s enjoying himself today, making up for the days of inactivity? The ulcer seems to have changed its mind again about returning?

I went on the WordPress Reader section. Not so much on there today, but it is a Saturday.

I made another mug of tea and got some fresh garden peas podded, and into the saucepan to marinate with a spoonful of demerara sugar for cooking later. Then got one of the baking spuds in the slow-cooker.

Drank the brew, and made a Morrison order for next week. Crickey that took some time as well. The brain seems a little on the slow side, and the fingers-ends are losing contact senses again. This made me take over two-hours to get done?

06:40hrs: How the heck I’m going to get on doing the CorelDraw graphic, well, I can only hope for the best! I made another brew, had another GPWWB wee-wee, and started on the drawing.

10:00hrs. Still slogging away at the CorelDrawing! Remembered the window cleaner chappie is calling this morning to see about doing them for me. So I got a wash and some clothes on! Then back to the computerisationalistical graphic-making grind!

13:15hrs: The window cleaner who said he would call to see me this morning, has not matured.

I took a Limoncello for Josie and pressed on with the graphicalisationing. Gerrin’ reet tired now!

13:35hrs: Started to make up a few days templates. 16:30hrs, got them all finished. The old man is now shattered mentally and in pain physically as Arthur Itis and Duodenal Donald, join in with Anne Gyna, and amalgamated, joined forces with the peripheral neuralgia inspired leg, arm, hands and fingers in a Neuropathic Schuhplattler. (The neuropathic medicine drop kettle, Pot noodles, soap, razors, mugs, shower head etc. dance), in giving me some hassle, that I don’t think I deserved! But still, no point in moaning. (Humph, Hehe!)

As I got up to do the cleaning, I kicked the walking stick that was left balancing against the sink, it fell, and in my rush to prevent it going on the floor and needing my bending down.  I grabbed at it with my left hand and whacked my knuckles against the metal bars of the Sock-Glide, and the stick still fell flat on the floor!

Bending, supporting myself foolishy, with the right hand on the sink with the clothes soaking in it. And, a little jiggling and jerking, and the hand slipped into the hand-basin, and the arm up to the elbow, banging against a tap (faucet), slipped into the soapy water and bleach, and the fluid spilt out onto me, and the floor, and the mat, and the testicles, and then… well, all over! Grumph and Goblastications! I set about cleaning things up, with under-breath curses and a frustrated whining emanating from the vocal-chords occasionally! The job was a long time to get it done, but I sorted the place and myself out.

Checking things looked okay, I opened the door, and the smell of the burning potatoes in the oven drifted my way! Double Grumph and Goblastications! I hastened to the kitchen…

There was not a lot of cheesy potatoes, but what I salvaged, actually tasty spot-on! I added the garden peas, and mushrooms from the saucepan added that to the things soaking in the sink and settled in the £300, second-hand, rickety, still-not-working, c1968 recliner. It tasted so lip-smackingly good! A flavour rating of 8/10 given. It went down quicker than I planned. But I could not stop worrying in case the mess in the wet room or kitchen had not been safely sorted.

A call to the Porcelain Throne produced the same evacuation as the last three have been; Rush, pants-down, sit, splosh and all done bar the cleaning up! Haha!

I returned to get the washing up done. Which took me an inordinately long time. During which the sunshine came bursting through the unwanted, uncleanable, light & view-blocking kitchen windows. Despite all my woes at that time, the beauty of the view caught my attention, and I had to take a picture of it.

I did it in ‘P’ mode on the camera dial. I must find the time and or stay awake long enough to check what this setting option means, my guess is ‘Panorama’, but I may well be wrong.

I checked around again, and then got down in the rickety recliner, out the TV on, and noticed the legs were getting blotches still. But the leg ulcer had almost disappeared.

The toe-nails needed cutting. But the best the Health Centre could do is 11th September, eighteen days away, yet! I suppose it is a ploy, to get us to use a private nail-cutting service and save them bother. But surely they have seen my record, and know that because if my ‘Many issues’, they all refuse to treat to me?

I watched some Gordon Ramsay Kitchens on the box. But, as tired as I was, I just could not get to sleep. So perturbing!

I suppose I did fall asleep, cause I woke up around 03:20hrs. Still feeling so tired, weary and drained!

I’m not really in high-spirits, but things could be much worse… Hehehe!