Tuesday 8th October 2019
Icelandic: Þriðjudaginn 8 Október 2019
01:00hrs: I woke up with an instant mind-storming session rattling away in the fount of missing knowledge/wisdom/advice/ideas etc. brain-box; fears, worries, frustrations, bad memories, trials, and tribulations. The lack of hot water, and how I will manage to cope with bringing hot water from the kitchen to the wet room to do the ablutions was the main worry. Closely followed by, ‘Will the plumber arrive this afternoon, tonight, or the Wednesday morning, afternoon, or night… or later?’ ‘Will he call at all?’ The third in line in the fretting stakes were; ‘Should I not go to the After-Stroke session after all, and stay in, just in case they do arrive this morning’… which started the whole circle of predicaments, quandaries, catch-22s, hassles, and hindrances all over again! It was a good while before things settled, and the almost panicking situation resolved itself when a wee-wee was needed, quickly followed by the Porcelain Throne requirement needing attention.
I heaved my ever-augmenting, accrescent, wobbly-porkodile body out of the Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-law Pete knackered while he was flat-sitting, when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them back yet four-months later), £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, but not often nowadays, recliner, and took a PWWDIB (Pathetic-Weak, Why-Did-I-Bother) mode wee-wee in the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency Bucket). Then to the wet room, and enjoyed a not too messy evacuation session.
Then I tended, to avoid doing it later, and it needed tackling, to the ablutions. Regrettably, the hardest and messiest I have ever taken in my time here in the flats! Talk about painful! I dare not use the shower to fill the sink, as suggested by Warden Deana, because of the noise it makes when the water goes down the drain, and when it works. Certainly not at this time in a morning! I went to the kitchen and got the saucepans filled and on the rings, put the kettle on, and returned to the wet room to do the teeth-cleaning. All okay up to hear, this is where it got uncomfortable!
– I fetched a pan of hot water from the stove ring, and as I reentered the wet room, the right leg launched into one of its imitation Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routines. Resulting in a stubbed toe, dropping the saucepan, burning my foot and clouting my head on the sink when I tried to retrieve the pan from the floor! Then I had to go to get some more hot water again!
– I was not interested much about washing when I got back. The shaving was done in a half-hearted fashion, and with more than a little… what’re the best words to describe how I was feeling? Erm? Pissed-offedness, I’d had enough of things going wrong! That might represent my emotional state at the time bestest! I was irritable, annoyed, self-critical, shirty, snarky, and now sore-headed! The brain-blast started again as I was drying myself and applying the medications to specific areas in need of it! ‘Will the plumber arrive this afternoon or not?’ Will I catch the 40 bus on time?’ How can I get caught up on blogging?’ ‘Why did fate make me not look at the note about Pete passing away?’ ‘How come the RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) in both knees kicking off again, just before the After-Stroke session?’ ‘Will I find the exact £2.30 in cash for the bus fare as needed?’ There was much more waffling and nervous thoughts being bandied-about from the brain, but I lost interest in them after I’d knocked over the bloody sock-glide! Now, I was worried in case the noise had disturbed someone! When drying the rear-end, a sore spot was felt. I got the camera to investigate – fancy that, it was a boil! I shan’t show the photo. Gawed, I was on a downer!
A smidge of self-pity showed itself for a moment. ‘Not my fault, all this shirty, snarky, and now sore-headed! The muddle, disarray, fracas, hullabaloo and chaos, was not caused by me doing anything wrong, surely? No one list… and then I pulled myself together, silently offered some insults and put-downs for my abhorrent thoughts and pathetic mawkish, maudlin approach to the difficulties. I didn’t clean the wet room after the ablutions, cause that would mean more carrying of hot water (Too risky!) ‘Will the plumber arrive… ‘Oh, shut up Inchcock!’
I took the medications and made a brew of tea. On to the computer to update as much as I could. As I got typing, that famously annoying whing, humming sound from outside (I think anyway), was the loudest it had ever been? I wanted to know what was causing it, others can hear it as well. It was extra-teeth-grittingly-pesterous this morning!
I felt a little better when I had got the updating finished and sent off. About four hours it took me to do, a lot of photographs to get on. Very few wee-wees needed during this time, and several mugs of tea were made and let go cold. Haha! I posted the blog, then some stuff to Pinterest. Then I caught up with the TFZer Facebooking. But there was no time to start this post off, as I had to prepare myself, get things sorted out, to catch the 40 bus to town. I found the right cash for the bus fair.. no, Bus Fare! Tsk! It’s the thought of Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law using my money to go to the fair that caused that mistake I think!
I have no idea why, but I was definitely feeling perkier now, as I galloped around checking I had everything needed. I set off but returned to make sure that I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have and had turned off what needed being turned-off. Sad innit?
I went through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, and out through the foyer entrance doors. The morning was dark, dank and a little wet, with a fair wind blowing, and not a warm one. Glad I put the jumper on now.
As I hastened to the bus stop on Winchester Street, I found that I was singing to myself, I even remember the song. ‘Walking Back to Happiness’ by Helen Shapiro, her first song as a 14-year-old, and a number one hit! I remembered a lot of the lyrics, too? I can’t understand how she didn’t answer my letter her all those years ago. I fancied her something rotten!
Waiting at the bus stop, the incredible cloud formation was coming up in the distance, it almost looked like a Sunami! Bit of an eerie picture this one, methinks. Especially as the hands and fingers were doing a little dancing when I took this photograph.
The 40 bus got even fuller with passengers than the one last week did! But at least I was prepared for it this week. I got the three-wheeler right tight up to my legs, and the ankle-snappers getting on and off, did far less damage to my feet and legs this time. At one stage, the driver had to herd them to the back of the bus, to allow more folks on the bus. Hilarious it was – watching about fifteen schoolkids all moving to the rear, and all bar one were on their mobiles! Hehe!
I stayed on the bus to the terminus on Queen Street, to avoid too much walking in the drizzle. I Hobbled down into the Slab Square, and took this photo of the Council House, with again, an amazing sky in the background.
I limped slowly to go around the square, and along towards Wheeler Gate.
One of the infamously ignorant Nottinghamian Pavement cyclists passed by, and I turned to snap him as a school lad was sidestepping to avoid the idiot hitting him! Grumph!
I took a shot over the Slab Square, towards Wheeler Gate, where my destination of the Poundland shop was based. Mainly, I took the chance to catch yet another great and fantastic skyline again! How the sky was so bright and everything else in the dark, captivated my attention!
I snapped the picture below, to show the different styles of building in the City Centre. The decaying, the new, the old, the being repaired, and some of the many thousands of student apartments. Not one of my best photos, but I did zoom in a lot to take it, and the fingers were a bit wobbly at the time.
I had a steady nosey around Poundland. I bought a lot of stuff this morning. Tunnock’s for the nibble bag. Some pens, twenty for a quid! Bread rolls. Two large bags of Twiglets (A sad story to follow later about these!) Fabric softener. Mini-sausages. Nuts. And, a 2020 diary for a quid! I paid at the self-service tills and made my way to the front of the shop, to redistribute the things between the trolly bag and the carrier. (The sad part is I took out the two Twiglet bags while sorting, and left then on the shelf, leaving without them! What a draycup!)
As I left the shop, I came across this piece of Nottinghamian Street Art near the taxi rank. Whatever the contents were, they didn’t go down very well with the purchaser, did they? Perhaps, over-alcoholic intake might have played a part? Haha!
I had another walk around the Slab Square.
And again I was nearly clobbered, my an arrogant, uncaring, dangerous, self-centred, and egotistic young male Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist. Argh!
One more recordable almost exciting sky v land contrasting view was taken.
I have to say that some of the locals actually had smiles on their faces! Not many, mind!
The place was abuzz with student and schoolchildren.
A smartly dressed young lady Pavement Cyclist passed by, and she nearly came off of the kerb onto the tramlines at one stage, but she was alright.
More Nottingham Street at was spotted. McDonald’s nosh this time. I had a little memory prompting thought pattern at this stage. I recalled the original Wimpey Bar we had, on Maid Marion Way. Or more precisely, a girl who worked there. Why now, after all of my capabilities have left me, died, gone away, am I thinking of things I can no longer do? Hehehe!
Walking up Market Street on my way to the Church Hall for the meeting, I spotted some new Notti0nghamian Street art. Vandals, winos, druggies or drunks, had smashed a window in a shop some poor devil was getting ready to open. Grumph!
Along Goldsmith Street, the college and student stronghold, I spotted more Nottingham Street art!
I arrived a little early and remembered the look of derision I got when I was early at last weeks After-Stroke Physio session.
So I had a little walkabout, as the day finally grew a tad lighter, and the sunshine, cold as it was, broke through. I walked down the hill, then back up and to the other side of the road, back towards the church. As I crossed again over Goldsmith Street, yet another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist was spotted! A student, I assume.
I approached the doorway to the church. There were five patients in there, and a different nurse, the same droll, matter-of-fact, book-checking lady was in charge. And we six were all that arrived today! I handed some nibbles over. We seem to be dwindling in numbers? The session went wellish and passed quickly enough, but, the Arthur Itis ridden knees gave me a fair amount of hassle and pain.
They tell me that when the silly-to-me relaxation tape was played, I fell asleep and snored rather loudly! Red-Face-Adopted!
The nurse took my BP. It was 160 sys, Dia 100. She said the pulse and temp’ was very high but did not reveal what they were. Ah, well, with all the hassle, I wasn’t surprised.
When it came to where we would usually do the social bowling game, a rather good looking handsome well dressed and muscular bloke arrived, to give us a talk on what to eat and why, etcetera. I didn’t like him, young, had his own hair, didn’t wear hearing aids or glasses… Huh! The lesson lasted about an hour, I took to him later. Haha! It turned out amusing and exciting at times, humour was used cleverly as he told us off.
With aching limbs, I said my farewells and departed. And blow-me-dow with a feather duster the same lorry as last week was unloading on Goldsmith Street, so I had to go over the road and take a different route. Not that it mattered, I’d missed the L9 bus home anyway.
A Deliveroo pavement Cyclist lurked about, but he was far enough away from me!
So, I caught the 40 bus. The three-way traffic lights at the roadworks needed a bit of care in getting over and through, but all was okay. The hobble back to the flats was a bit uncomfortable, but the mind was racing again now… Has the plumber been? Will he come this afternoon or tonight? Maybe in the morning? No one is keeping me informed of the situation.
I called in the Wardens Holding-cell room, to ask if they knew anything about the plumber. But Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden and Ice-skating Champion Deana was not in, she was out and about. Obersturmführer and Catwalk Model Warden Julie, only knew that someone else had the same problem, but could advise me of nothing about the plumbing situation. I handed out the nibbles, thanked her.
Then I was off on the way home via the link-passage to Woodthorpe Court. I put the buys away. This was when I realised I had no Twiglets in the bags! I actually remembered taking them out in the shop when I changed the bags. What a plonker!
I had a job to get the intercom camera to work. It was showing fault when I tried to view it several times. I tried setting without any luck. So I thought I’d take a picture of the ‘Fault’ sign on the panel. Got the camera, and it was working! Ah, well! Tsk!
I took another snap of the view from the kitchen window. Which was a pleasant one!
I made a start updating this blog, with so many photographs again, and the finger-ends not recognising touch still, I spent many hours, frustrated and annoyed with things.
Put the kettle on, and readied the stuff for the meal later. Unsure of when I can make it, though. Still no word about whether the plumbers will be calling or not today or tonight. Christ! It is night already! Hours passed my head-down time already! But I must not fall asleep, just in case something really fantasmagorical happens – like a plumber arriving! Sarcasm-Mode-Adopted there, did you notice? Haha!
I went out on the crumbling balcony, to do battle with the window openers, and take this picture on the left, at an angle of the end of Chestnut Drive, and to check to see if I could see any Nottingham City Homes vans about. None!
Back to updating again. Getting dark a bit now. I’m tired-out and so annoyed at not being kept in the picture about the repairs. Whenever they come, it would have nice to have been informed. And of course, I still have no hot water, so face the same farce and struggle to do the ablutions in the morning! I’m really fed-up now!
I pressed on with the blogging, ever-struggling more to keep awake. It must be 46 hours since I reported the problem, and I’ve only had 6 hours of sleep in that time. Gone through the Stroke Physio session, done a fair bit of walking, too.
Bad-Luck has infested my life. Good-Luck shies away from me. I’m getting to the stage of not being able to cope with any more bad news, failings etcetera.
I can’t concentrate anymore. I’ll get the fodder sorted out, and try to stay awake long enough to eat it.
BBQ rice, with dashes of light soy sauce, balsamic vinegar, sliced tomatoes and half a little jar of black bean sauce. And, of course, they told not to eat after I’d bought the mini-sausages. These are going to be hard to resist in the future. Tired out and depressed as I was feeling, this nosh went down a treat! Taste-rating of 9.25/10 granted. An umami delicious, lip-smacking, cornucopial feast!
So much so, that I somehow dropped the limoncello, and later when I rose to clean the pots, I stod on it…
While I was boiling the water to clean the plate etc. (What a bind!) the mind started to work again… Would the plumber arrive this late? How can I get the handwashing done? I dare not go out until they have been! I’m shattered! Is it worth the fight anymore? And so on!
I managed to stay awake until ten o’clock. Which in itself, should make me eligible for an award of some sort. Hehehe!
While thinking it was time now that I can get some sleep – I fell asleep! And did so for eight-hours straight! Plainly, much-needed, but I woke up after the start-time for the Ocado delivery. Which set me off, panicking, fretting, worrying again: Will the Nottingham City Homes plumber arrive in the morning? Or will he not? I’ll have to stay indoors, just in case! Will someone actually contact me? Will someone advise me of their ETA? The last two thoughts were right idiotic ones!
I hope things get sorted soon.
10 thoughts on “Inchcockski – Tuesday 8th October 2019: A long, hard, stressful, traumatic day, so a long diary. Sorry!”
Not a good start to the day with burned foot from dropped pan and banging your head. Young rockers do head banging on purpose, it’s not recommended for pensioners. A lot of nice photos from your out and about. Did you remember what you are supposed to be eating and why? Decent looking meal. Would the muscly, hearing aid free bloke have approved?
Thanks for the advice, Sir. Hehe!
Remember? Me? – No, not really. But some of the stuff (Sausages, pork pies and chips) I had been eating that they said I shouldn’t be, stuck.
I think he might have disapproved with the feast, Haha! But I had some Soul Food, vegetarian chilli delivered this morning. So, I have to eat it? I’ll add some black bean sauce and sliced tomatoes, methinks.
Oh, did tell me to eat only two sliced of bread a day.
Worra time I’m ‘aving, Humph!
Haha! TTFNski, mate.
Sorry to hear about the stroke. My dad had one, but the damage to his brain was too much and he is living in a long term care home and can’t ever go home on his own. After a year he has stopped fighting us as much.
I live in a public housing seniors complex – 100 apartments. They are talking about knocking out walls and making larger apartments for families. We, the seniors, are not happy about that. I don’t want kids running around causing trouble. I am on the 6th floor. I can’t climb stairs and they have had both elevators go out at one time twice since I have been here. Once I was stuck downstairs and once I was stuck upstairs and needed to leave. You mention the noise in the drains at inopportune times and I never thought about that. There is always water running through the pipes here and it is noisy.
Since moving in I have started to use a cane and when really bad, a walker. Gaining weight isn’t helping and my ankles and knees are in constant pain in addition to the rest of my body. Our lives are similar.
We have 4 washers and 4 dryers for 100 apartments and so I wait till the end of the month when most people are broke and I can get in there. They close it at 9 PM and open it at 7 AM. I would do it in the middle of the night if I could, but they won’t leave it open 24 hours.
Sorry to hear about all of your problems. I sympathize.
Thanks Teresa, lovely to hear from you, gal.
12th floor for me, petal. I can get about with the stick in the flat usually, but need the walker whenever I go out. The peripheral neuralgia (Nerves not making contact with the brain and dying), causes most of my tumbles. The dancing right side foot,leg, arm and shoulder do their own thing at times. Hehehe! It must be scary for those about when it happens. Still no hot water here, yesterday they promised they would call, but I stayed up late, and no one came. Tsk!
I can sure relate to ‘ Gaining weight isn’t helping’.
We are sufferers, that’s for sure, petal!
Carers do not, and canot understand what you have to put up with. But at rare times, they can be precious, can’t they.
Everything is taken three, for times as long to do nowaday. With the nerves dying off, even typing is now a chore, and I love doing it gal.
We both seem to cope somehow, or get through rather. Haha!
Wel done Tessa. I’m proud of you!
TTFNski, and love and a ug sent. ♥
Thanks Gerry! My dad didn’t tell us he was falling often. He had the stroke and it was too late to save most of his brain cells from dying. He can’t walk. He doesn’t know where he lives or that he has 3 children, but so far he remembers us. Dementia is also setting in as if the stroke wasn’t enough. Because of my disabilities I can no longer go visit him. They put him in the very farthest room possible and it is a long walk just from the parking lot. I did visit at first, but then things went downhill from there.
We had a fire and I was stuck in the fire tower because I can’t do the stairs. Luckily it was minor and contained, but if it had been major I am not sure how they would get me down. Our building is 8 stories tall.
Love ya and hugs too.
Going to visit people and they do not recognise you, if heartbreaking.
It can be a bit fretfull when you are not confident if a fire-alarm goes off. I can’t hear the general alarm when it goes off at all.
I’m doing better with the falls, well last week I did, only one tumble.
This is fifteen floors, at Woodthorpe.
I never hear of anyone poor and in need, winning the lottery? Hehe!
Taketh care, and try not to get down petal. please. X
LOL to win the lottery you have to play and that takes money. Poor people usually don’t waste precious money on lottery tickets.
You’re dead right, of course, Tess!
When the lottery first started here, I did do it for about a year. But I never won anything at all. When I found out they were giving money to Royalty backed causes, I stopped!
I occasionally get lottery tickets, but they are usually gifts.
Good, fingers crossed for you. gal! X