It’s a shock, when you wake up, not feeling unwell, Take your medications, and rub in the Pain-Gel, The heart monitor might well need a new Duracell, You wonder around without clothes on, au naturel, But you don’t realise, till someone does tell.
You and youngsters are on a different parallel, You worry about your leaks, do they really smell? Will someone be waiting for you, down in hell? Sticks to your dentures do marzipan and caramel!
You’ve a shoebox flat to live in now and dwell. But you call it an apartment, so your pride can swell! Retentativeness goes away, you’ll forget how to spell, Your short term memory will never again excel! Steps, climbing, will make you fear any stairwell.
Doctors, dentist, you’ll be part of their clientele, Podiatrists, Opticians, analyst, maybe the as well? Audiologist too, you’ll not hear your phone or doorbell, Psychoanalyst, avoid talking about your death-knell, Well, they have a profit to protect, and service to sell.
We’ll lose our logicality, patience and sense of smell, And when the time comes for to heaven to travel, Here’s the really-surprising bombshell, We can’t take clothes with us, even if they’re brocatelle, No knick-knacks of gold, silver or tortoiseshell, But I ain’t got none, anyway – so farewell! I wonder if I’ll see Dad, Mam, or maybe a pterodactyl?
03:15hrs: I woke in a bit of a state, I think I might have been trying to escape a nightmare scenario. Well, I know I was! It was a horrible dream I’d been having! I can only remember the end of it accurately. It felt like it had lasted a long time. People from my past working life were in it, yet strangely, I couldn’t recognise or name many of them. It involved them each having a traffic accident of some sort. In the one, I woke up from, as I can recall; I was working in a warehouse and couldn’t find what I was searching for on the high shelves… then I and the shelving was outside and me still on the top shelf… I watched as a van with an old colleague driving, and it went underneath a pantechnicon lorry, which drove on for a mile, not knowing he was taking the van with him (how I knew this, I don’t understand), I climbed down and got on the milk float and drove to the scene of the accident. I got under the lorry and pulled out a piece of the man’s mangled body. Blank. Arrived back at the warehouse and I got the sack for leaving without permission. Then I was suddenly wearing a uniform and knocking on a door to tell a lady about her husband’s death… That I think, is when I sprang awake!
I made some memory notes on the notepad, to refer too when doing the above description of the dreaming.
Removed my grossly overweight bloated body from the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, rickety, gungy-beige-coloured, c1968, unkempt, rusty-recliner, and hobbled to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). Which was almost full as I started to use it! The wee-wee was of the USBUWSS (Ultra-Slow-But-Uncontrollable-Weak-Sprinkly) variation.
Arthur Itis was still having fun with my knees and legs. Tsk! Off to the kitchen to cleaned and sanitised the bucket. The and washing was moved to the stand-up airer. The toe was stubbed en route to the hallway.
As I was putting the kettle on, Dizzy Dennis attacked! It was not a long one, but, by Gawd, it was vicious with it! Perhaps one of the worst ever, it took me a while to regain my equilibrium and equipoise. During which I eventually was able to take two photographs of outside, through the thick-framed, light & view-blocking new windows. I used the Nikon camera this time. I noticed that this one too has an option to shoot in ‘P’ mode. So I tried to take both of the shots from the same place and zoom level. The first one on the ‘P’ setting, the other in Auto.
The bottom field could do with a little precipitation, methinks. I was amazed that I could take them without much shaking at all, the camera is too large for me to use the right hand only. It seems that moments from recovering from Dizzy Dennis’s bother, things had calmed down so well? Things soon got back to normal, though, Humph!
I made the brew, and took the medications, as the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet room. Another flash-bang-done, evacuation. A bit more painful, though?
In the brightly lit wet room, I noticed that the tummy looked like I might have been scratching away at it? The leg-ulcer spot was going wrinkly. And Arthur Itis’s visit to the knees did not look like it was about to give me break, any time soon.
I imagine it’s all a part of ageing, decrepitation, disintegration, decay, decline, deterioration, debilitation, degeneration and natural enfeeblement of one’s body as age catches us up? It’s not too bad getting it earlier in life via ailments than others do, cause when the so-called lucky ones get it later in life, it’ll be more of a shock for them. Egregious for them to withstand? There’s a warped, twisted sense of logicalness in there somewhere. (I think!) Hehe!
I needed another wee-wee, but was surprised, to say the least, to find it was an ELPSOA (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-Allover) type! No wonder the bucket was so full this morning!
The EQ told me to take the bucket with me to the computer, and keep it handy! So, I did!
I’d just made a start on updating the Sunday blog, and another call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Exactly the same mode of evacuation as earlier. But this time I got the crossword book out afterwards because the following wee-wee was again of the ELPSOA mode! Tsk!
I got the blog completed and sent off. Went on the WordPress Reader. Then got some peas shelled and in the saucepan with soy sauce added. I reckon approx 12 peas were lost when they shot off of their own accord. Up to now, four have been retrieved! Haha!
Then got the mushrooms sliced, a drop of soy light sauce, and in the slow cooker, on a low setting!
I made a beginning to this post, in between several ELPSOA mode wee-wees. Consistent today!
I took a break, made a brew, and returned to the computer to check the tracking of the things coming.
Up to 21:00hrs, eh? It’s gonna be a big problem for me, staying up and awake that long, if they do arrive that late! Oh, Globbalturds!
I was doing so well with the typing and Dizzy Dennis kicked-off again, joined by the stomach ache? I felt suddenly drained. Please, that I can stay awake long enough to catch the delivery… and that the intercom works and I can hear it! Please! Mind you, when I first moved in the flat, they delivered a computer chair to 72 Winchester Court on a Bank Holiday, and not Woodthorpe Court! Oh, dear, I’d forgotten all about that! ‘Treble Gobbalturds!’
I decided the only way I could hope to stay awake was to be doing something active that I might enjoy. So I got the ablutions sorted out.
The circadian scrub-up session’s dropsies were rife. Toothbrush and paste, razors, flannel, ear-oil pot, deodorant can… well, most things really! Humph! I suppose, because I was trying to rush, just in case the ankle-support arrived early. Deciding what needed cleaning first, was a decision-making nightmare, for someone like me, who is a devoted aboulomania sufferer. There was that much needed doing! Tsk!
I opted to do the inside of the fridge first. I should have known better really, with the hand and arm being so shaky, and feeling so tired. The concentration levels being so low, as well!
Taking stuff out to clean in the sink, I broke one of the shelves in the door.
So, spent the next hour or so, cleaning up the mess I had made, and somehow didn’t get around to doing any actual cleaning of the fridge as I had intended! I blamed the shakes that had started-off. Oy Vey!
Frequent visits from Dizzy Dennis were not helping my concentration, either.
I gave up the idea of doing any more refrigerator cleaning, and I took an RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) wee-wee. Then I had a rethink.
If I sit down at the computer again, there would be a real chance of my nodding-off and falling out of the chair, and missing the delivery man. So I abandoned the computerisationing, and decided to get the kitchen floor, (the one with the holes left in it, along with gaps in the wall, by the fitters of the needing a hyperintelligent brain like Einstein’s to understand and set up, heater), and decided I’d get the mottled-tiled uneven floor mopped. Which went rather well, actually. No real Whoopsiedangleplops or Accifauxpas at all.
However, when it came to cleaning out them up and bucket afterwards… Things went Whoopsiedangleploply ape-shit! Emptying the bucket of dirty water down the WC, and the damned polyneuropathy affected right arm had a shaking moment, at the same time as the leg did one of its Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances. The resulting chaotic mess, dirty water over the bowl, floor and me, meant another hour spent cleaning up. So far, I had made more mess than any I had cleaned-up! No wonder I felt a right meshugener! Still, these things were stopping me falling asleep, at least. Not that they were doing much good, healthwise, or mentally! Humph!
I got myself sorted out again, and had a look down from the balcony to see if any signs of a delivery van were there. Nope! Not a sign of life, other than the person who had parked their red car in the ‘Emergency Vehicles Only’ hatched area on Chestnut Way, and was on her or his mobile phone. It’s possible that the driver had to call a flat. One of the many, where the Intercom has failed, or the resident like me, is hard of hearing and cannot hear the weak, feeble tone it gives out when someone calls you on it from the lobby? But, nobody takes any notice of the road signage, and haven’t for over two years now, since the upgrading had started when the parking spaces were reduced.
So many new rules have been made and ignored. Like the removal of all the doormats in the corridors, they have made a come-back. I’d like to put mine back again, so I can help keep my prison cell cleaner, but do not know if the commandments are currently still in use, or not, and don’t want to get in trouble? Some are reappearing outside the flat doors, it is confusing. But, with so much mayhem and workings going on, it must be difficult, nae, impossible to keep tenants informed of everything. Not that the majority of us can remember anyway. Hehehe!
The body and mind were shattered now. But I had to keep up and about, to ensure I heard the delivery person when they call. So, I got the vacuum out and did a bit of Hoovering in the front room and hallway. There were marks on the floor edge panelling, but I was not up to bending down to clean them.
As I was doing this bit of cleaning, the Intercom panel, which I was stood right next to at the time, chimed and lit up. Had I been in the other room, I would never have heard it! I admitted the young man, and he confirmed the floor he needed, and was soon up at the front door, with the ankle-supports and the Lemon wafers.
I thanked him, and off he shot.
The supports looked and felt awfully thin. But I now had them to try out at my leisure and pleasure. (Rare words for me! Haha!) The hard to find in the shops Manner Lemon Wafers, are so tasty and would serve as a meal for me tonight. I was just too tired-out and weary of doing any food preparation.
The place (apart from the kitchen floor) looked dirtier and messier than when I started out to clean things up!
I felt burnt-out, bushed, and beaten. With a brabble-filled brain, that needed nothing more than sleep and rest!
I took the evening medications, had a BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) wee-wee, and settled on the £300, second-hand, rickety, recliner, in search of sleep. Which I was confident would come quickly.
But, oh, no! The brain was soon filled with every type of fears, worries, anxieties, and an unasked for deep-depression. I felt lonely, pathetic, apprehensive, and cynically suspicious of everything without warning. A horrible feeling that determined that sleep, despite my overtiredness, took hours to come! During which time, TV was ignored, doing the crossword puzzle was just too much effort, and I sank lower in spirits. But why? When Arthur Itis, then the cramps arrived, I declined further.
This was not good.
Eventually, I did manage to drop-off, waking half-an-hour later, thinking it was time to rise and shine! Extracted my lumberingly rotund body from the £300, second-hand, not working, rickety recliner, and took an LRWS (Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) wee-wee. Then realised it was only 22:00hrs! Got back down on the ancient. c1968, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating, rotting-away recliner. But, I still found trouble nodding-off!
Methinks perhaps, the grey-cells were overactive and befuddled. Mind you, that’s normal for me, innit?