Tuesday 3rd September 2019
Welsh: Dydd Mawrth 3ydd Medi 2019
04:30: Woke up, panicking about getting things sorted for the first After-Stroke Session. My waking so late, mind you I needed the sleep, means I have to rush about a bit, so as to get things ready in time for my early departure.
I extracted my lumberingly obese bellied body from the Brother-in-Law damaged while he was flat-sitting, fitting new CCTC cameras, and searching for my valuables, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. With ease, the mind being on the upcoming time-consuming, difficult to get to 09:30hrs start, After-Strokephysio Appointment.
The sky from the kitchen window looked almost ominous of a storm brewing. No tea brewing, no handwash sorting, time was of the essence this morning.
I carefully took the medications, and the summoning call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. And boy what a change in style this session turned out to be! It looked like chilli-con-carnie! The blood flowed, and medicationalising and cleaning took a while. As I dismounted the Throne, blood was trickling down from the PPs onto the thighs. Oh, dearie me! The damned Little Inchy, was also pouring blood! The fungal lesion had opened up again. First time for many a month. This meant more time lost, in having to treat it and stop the flow. Humph!
Cleaned and medicated things, the pins were looking alright. They seemed a bit more colour in them, and they were skinnier in appearance, I think.
I got on with updating yesterdays post. Luckily the fingers, leg and arm, were being kind to me, although the jerking shoulder was in good form. I hope it eases off for the meeting; other patients will think they have a mad-man in their midst! Hehe!
I got the post all done and sent off.
The sky was looking better as time went on.
I had to get a move on now and do the ablutions, to make sure I would be in time to take a walk into town for the appointment. This will mean a hobble up the steepest hill for miles around, up and over Woodborough Road, and all the way down Wells Road and St Anns Well road into the City. I must make sure I take the camera with me.
07:00hrs: I’ll be back later to update things, but when, I’m not sure. TTFNski
As I got the items needed in the pockets and three-wheeler guide, the sun came out, and so did a little pride, in my getting things sorted, and I was in a calmish frame of mind, although still apprehensive and anxious of what lay ahead.
Here is a map I made, of the marathon-hobble, that as you will read further on, turned into a most painful, rushed and frustrating trip, when I got the timing all wrong! Oy Vey!
I took the black bags to the waste chute, then got in the elevator. It smelt of cigarette smoke, with a lingering aroma of stale ale. Hehe! Someone been on a night out? I’m not jealous, of course!
A bit of mess on the floor. Poor old caretaker’s.
I made my way through the new linking-passage into Winwood Court. The brand-new unused yet, door mechanism out to the benches, was still not working.
I exited through the Winwood Court doors, into the sunshine and wind.
As I passed the top of Winchester Street, I noticed the rusty white Mercedes van, that the garage man told Jenny, was owned by one of the Winwood Heights tenants, had responded to Jenny’s request, and was now parking on the opposite side of the road. So, now I do not have to walk on the roadway to get the three-wheeler through when going into Sherwood. Thank you, Jenny ♥
I struggled to get up the hill on Mapperley Rise. (A continuation of Winchester Street hill, the steepest part of it). The sun was intense and in my face.
A little after taking this photo, Oberstgruppenführeress and Pole Dancer, Warden Julie came down the hill, on her way to work. We had a little natter.
Up on Woodborough Road, I had to walk a reasonable distance along Plains Road, to use the central refuge, to get across the highway through the heavy traffic. Then back to Well Road, and down the hill.
I was ambling along, in a semi-contented, partly-absent-minded dream world, and I thought I heard the Little Johns dongs. This made me look at my bargain, charity shop bought for £2 wristwatch. (The one with the £10 trap and new £11 battery, Haha!)
I realised that I had made a cock-up in my assessment of the time that the hobble would take. And had to spur myself on, as fast as I could. And it was not easy, in fact, the heart started pumping, Anne Gyna kicked-off, and the breathing was so painful. But, I did not want to be late. I pushed myself to my uncomfortable limits. The rest of the walk is almost a blur!
I had minutes to spare to be on time when I arrived at Chaucer Street, and I went in the wrong gates! So I had to come out again and around the corner. I arrived with two minutes to spare! But I was a bit proud of making it on time! If I walk there again, I must allow myself at least two-hours, the one-and-a-half I gave myself today, is just not enough!
There were only about six patients in there. Two Stoke team ladies. One who came to the flat for physio when I first came out. Over the next half-an-hour, many others dribbled in, and no one seemed bothered that they were so late. This wrangled me a touch, after all my uncomfortable efforts to get there on time. They all came in vehicles or were given a lift in by family or friends. I was wringing in sweat, and in a dilapidated state, to start with! Hehehe!
The session began with a lecture that I didn’t hear a word of. So when the others laughed, I did! The whiteboard had been written in pink highlight pen, so I couldn’t read it.
A series of exercises were completed, and Arthur Itis was not happy and caused me much discomfiture and pain. The promised, we will take into consideration individuals abilities, changed to ‘Come on, get those knees up further!’ ‘Come on. you can do better than that!’, and ‘Huh!’ Some movement I could not do fully because of the CIDP affected hands and the right arm having lost their strength and jumping about. This prompted further disgust. Oh, dear!
A relaxation tape was played. Again, that I didn’t hear a word of. So I did a bit of self-meditation. A game of bowls was played? We sat around a table to have a talk, biscuits and a cup of coffee or tea. I did not join in with the nibbling or drinking. The brew looked like milk and water! Then went around the table for anyone wishing to, to have a little talk about what happened when they had their last stroke. I listened interestedly, and no one told of themselves losing all their bodily function like I did? I wee’d, passed from the rear passage, spewed-up, lost tears (cried), and the nose ran. Maybe, they didn’t want to mention it, or was I the only one who suffered this?
A young Asian lady told of her hobby of travelling the world. A tall, younger than I, well turned out, wealthy-looking. The well-spoken bloke said of his tour of the Americas, one-year tour Asia, his European escapades, and his New Zealand, Australasian holiday. I didn’t like him! Haha! One younger lady was from Ghana, and spoke no English! A Scottish lady was all calm, wealthy and had a family that cared for her so well.
Lots of other things took place, but I can’t remember what now. As we left, I bade farewell to everyone. Only the tall, younger than I, well turned out, wealthy-looking, well-spoken bloke, who told of his tour of the Americas, one year tour Asia, his European escapades, and his New Zealand, Australasian holiday and a lady responded. A line of cars was outside to pick many of the patients up, others went to the car park, one lady to her giant Mercedes. I wobbled off into town with my trustless three-wheeled Guide trolley. I had to smile!
Despite everything, I seemed to enjoy the session? Am I a Sadisism-Sufferer? Or, should that be a masochist?
I limped along Goldsmith Street, and by the tram stop. Interesting how the Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist, chooses to also use the dedicated tram lines?
I hobbled down Market Street, where this Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist was merrily plodding up the hill, and in the Slab Square.
The sun was shining, the warm wind persists.
The Nottingham Citizens for once, all seemed to be on drugs or something, as many a smile and argument were seen as I made my way through the square on my way to the Poundland shop on Wheeler Gate.
The knees were in a right state already, the feet stinging, and I was walking as slow as I have ever had to before. Ah, well!
I had a good nosey around the Poundland store. Arriving at the self-serve counter with too much stuff to fit in the pathetic bag on the three-wheeled trolly. So had to use the spare carrier, and both got well filled up! I came out with: A tin of stewed steak in gravy, Two x4 packs of salt & vinegar Snack-a-Jacks (Rice & Sweetcorn snacks). A Pork Farms pork pie, Six packets of Flying Saucers (Sherbert sweeties), 1×6 mini pork crackling Cadbury’s Twirls, Jacobs mini-cheddars and mini-Fudges (all for the nibble bag), Citrus Air bottle, Cheeslets, smoked almonds and Honey roasted cashew nuts (for me!), and a Dettol lavender antiseptic disinfectant. I paid up and back through the Slab Square to the bus stop on Queen Street.
I was really in pain then, with the knees and feet. I took a picture of the Debenhams, that used to be Griffith & Spalding, because we are likely to see this closing soon, too! Reading of the troubles and decline of yet another big name store is so sad.
I later read: Debenhams store in Nottingham bought by London investor for £26m. The retailer pays £1.5m a year in rent for the four-storey building. Investment manager Jack McCarron said: His firm was attracted to the city because it believes in Nottingham as a “shopping destination” – ‘What!’
I caught the L9 bus, sitting in the side-saddle seats was grossly painful with the knees were so bad. Shirley (I think that’s her name) from the flats got on en route. A lovely lady, from Woodthorpe Court. As we got off the bus, we both walked back through Winchester and Winwood Courts new passageway. I really enjoyed the chinwag we had. I tried the door out to the outside sitting area, en route, it’s still not been put right or mended. I bet they didn’t put this fact in the time-capsule they buried. Hahaha!
I bade Shirley a farewell with a smile, got out of the lift and into the flat.
I stripped off and rubbed some pain-gel into the knees! The big toenail looks like it is going black?
Took the medications, and got the meal prepared. I was too tired and worn out to make anything from scratch. So I got a large can of chilli-con-carni, added some brewed malt vinegar, and stirred it all the time almost, to stop it burning the new saucepan again this time. Tsk!
The last of the Milk Roll bread and a lemon cheesecake to follow. I very nearly ate all of it. But weariness was dawning. The bread was a bit stale, and the lemon dessert was far too sweet. A taste-rating of 5/10.
As I washed up the pots and cleaned the soaking saucepan, I decided that as tired as I was, the handwashing still had to be done. So, I got it washed and hung to dry.
I must find time tomorrow, to ask Forum Fashion Model and Scharfhreress Warden Deana, if she can call the surgery for me. I don’t expect her to get through, and anticipate I’ll have to walk to the Doctors, to talk to them. I suppose it will all get complicated again, over have they booked a phlebotomy nurse or not, why it now three weeks since my last test… The mind is so puzzled or puddled if you like. As for the Flu jab booking, if I can’t get my INR Warfarin test booked, what chance a flu jab booking! I’ll go to the Chemist to have that done!
I got down in the Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting, fitting new CCTC cameras, and searching for my valuables, £300, second-hand recliner.
The toes were going warped on the right foot, cramps were affecting the left leg and foot. The toenails were in desperate need of cutting. Tsk!
I checked the Google calendar in the morning, to see when the appointment is booked for. Next Wednesday at 13:50hrs.
Despite arthritis and cramp pains persisting, it didn’t take too long for me to nod-off. Zzz!