Thursday 10th October 2019
Swedish: incompetent den 10 Oktober 2019
03:30hrs: I stirred, and the brain eventually dragged itself away from the disappointment, let-down, and lack of the Nottingham City Home’s repeatedly promised plumbers arrival, to fix the no-hot-water problem for me. Since last Saturday I’ve hot-waterless. The assurances that someone is coming Mon, Tue, and Wed, all failed to come to fruition. Maybe today, they will arrive? Then again... It would be nice to have a shave and wash without risking life and limb, get out to buy some food, not keep missing the medical appointment, get the laundry done. Most essential for me would be to get some sleep. Having to stay indoors with a stubbly-chin, burnt, and scolded body parts (Peripheral Neuralgia), from having to handle hot water in the kettle and saucepans to the wet room for a shave and the shakes making me drop and spill stuff. Hoping for the non-arrival, twixt 08:00hrs and 22:00hrs for several days, waiting with futile hopes, just in case they arrive. Too scared of falling asleep and missing them, if they came. Which of course, they didn’t, despite many promises. (I’ll try not to use any reference to the failures again, [No chance!]). But I will gladly mention them if they arrive today! Life, however little is left, has never been more of a hassle for years! And, the damned mystery susurration, droning noise was getting louder! Glad I’ve got all that off my chest.
I revert now, back to my routine, timid, scaredy-cats, health-issue-suffering, worrying about everything, incapable, withdrawn and cringingly inept, insecure, uneducated, incompetent, unconfident, inferiority-complexed, timorous, someone wouldn’t say boo to a goose, faint-hearted, ill-at-ease, fearful, shy mode. I’m so much more suited and adapted to this modality.
I was surprised with how easily I got the lumbering mass of body out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, ugly-beige-coloured, rickety recliner, with very little pain from so many issues that would usually give me grief. No wee-wee being needed was next wonderment.
I checked on the handwashing, that was spread all over the flat. The stand-up airer in the hall. The rickety airer in the main junk room and hanging in the kitchen.
I did a bit of jiggling them around to try to get the missed areas dried some more.
I belched as I was making the tea, and the flavour of last night’s Soulful Food veg-chilli came back up. It was nice! Took the medications with an extra-guzzle of the ‘not-up-it’ Peptac antacid medicine, as some burning came back up the windpipe, and the innards began to rumble a tad. I’ve got another pot of chilli to eat yet!
Almost instantly after taking the medications, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wetroom. It seems the Soul-Food chilli had got things moving, but unfortunately, messily so. Ah-well!
I finished making the brew and off to the computer to update yesterday’s blog. With not going out, and all the extra time again spent on graphicalisationing, as I waited for the non-arrival of the plumber, it didn’t take long to finish it, and I got it posted off.
I made a start on this post, and as I did, the first wee-wee of the day was needed. And what a wee-wee it was! An LPJL (Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) release that caught me unexpectedly and needed some cleaning up of the bucket and my jammy bottoms. Oh, dearie me!
I did some work on this post, and…
So, I decided to give it a rest, and start the ablutions going. Carefully, especially with my having to transport the saucepans of water to the wet room for the shaving.
Off to the wetroom. Where I was astounded at how bad the pins (legs) looked this morning! Gotten Himmel, Oy vey, and flipping ‘eck! But there was more; as I was setting the shot up, trying not to shake, a pack of Protection Pants fell off the stack of them on the left of the picture, bounced once, hit me on the leg and slid into the shower area! Hehehe! I had to smile to myself! The knees and legs look proper horrendous!
Also, I think I must have a boil coming up in my right oxter! Tsk!
All part of 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!
The teeth were done; I fetched a saucepan of water from the kitchen stove to use for shaving. As I took it back to reheat for later… the dang pan slipped from my grip as the fingers gave-up sending nerve messages to the brain, and I tried to catch it, and banged the back of my hand on the stove ring! Back to the ablutions. The showering, shaving teggies etc. only cost me three dropsies, well, four, if you count the saucepan. Tsk!
The sock-glide battle was a draw, I think. I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and got appropriately dressed.
Made a brew of tea, and took this photograph out of the unwanted, light & View-blocking new windows. Taken facing towards Nottingham.
I rang Nottingham City Home’s Obersturmbannführer, Prima Ballerina, and Warden Deana. To advise her of the no-show for the fourth day of the promised electrician or plumber to mend the No-hot-water problem. She didn’t sound surprised at all. Well, she knows them well! Said she’ll call them and ring me back.
I got started updating this post, and true to her word, Oberstgruppenführeress and Nail Polisher, Warden Deana rang me back later. It all felt very ‘Cover-your-backish’ comment to me. She’d been told: My Job request had been filed incorrectly under ‘Gas’, so had been thrown away, because they know Winwood Heights are all-electric!?!?!
So, what happened on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday when Deana called them and got different stories of why they had failed to turn up. If this excuse were genuine, surely we would have not have gotten their assurances that they would call on Mon, Tue and Wed? I got another promise (the fifth one?) that they will call sometime today. I have no faith, belief or confidence left! It still amazes me, how another tenant can find she has the same problems as I have, tells them a day later, and gets it sorted that day!
12:30hrs. No sign of any plumbers or electricians. Feeling so tired, this being mucked about and lied to by Nottingham City Homes, is really getting to me.
Better get some graphics and a template or two done. A few hours later, and I’d made only two.
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps are attacking the left hand and fingers this time! Christ almighty, I’ve had enough!
Still no signs of the workman coming to do the hot water! Lucky? Me? It’d be nice to get out and buy some food, get a hobble in, go to the doctors… or just jump-off the balcony! So tired again, and it looks like yet another day of staying up late, only in case the bloke arrives… No wonder I’m going bonkers!
I’ll make a brew of tea and sit down and try to relax a bit – but I must not allow myself to fall asleep and miss any visitors. Not that I anticipate any, but you never know. Just cause the Nottingham City Homes Maintenance have lied to me for three days, doesn’t mean that they did today when they said someone will arrive… I’m losing it again!
Now the left hand is ridden with cramps, and pain, the right one still losing its grip on things! I just dropped the saucepan again! For once, it was empty when it went on its Whoopsie. With both hand’s crippled like this, I could… well, never mind. I’ll take some more painkillers with the mug of tea. Then rub some pain gel in the hand, fingers and wrist tackle getting down to retrieve the pan. Then find summat with sub-titles to watch, so I don’t need the headphones on and miss the non-arriving Nottingham City Homes maintenance chap or woman.
Yours, truly fed-up, Inchcock!
I wasn’t hungry, and that must be a first for me, and got the handwashing done. The inanity of having to boil water in the kettle and saucepans on the stove was not easy. And I had a few more clothes that needed doing, that had built up, as I thought the hot-water would soon be back on (That was last Saturday!) A pair of trousers, long-sleeved shirts, a jumper, a woollen bobble-hat, and a couple of diabetic bamboo socks.
I ended up using a lot of electricity, both airers were on the go, and a shirt and the trousers hung above the new ‘You-need-a-degree to use’ storage-heater in the kitchen.
I settle to watch some TV and fell asleep.
Around 22:00hrs, I was woken by the sound of knocking and the door chimes playing the tune of Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you!’
I was the Nottingham City Homes plumber! Nice chap. I explained the bother, and he went straight to the electrical panel on the wall, then the water-heater cupboard.
It was bad news! The thermostat and maybe the boiler will have to be replaced! He would pass on details to the control room for me, and fingers crossed, it might get tended to in a week or two. He said he’d report me as an ‘At-Risk’ tenant, that might help. I thanked him, and off he shot to his next job, or back to the depot.
So, no chance of getting it done on Friday. Sat and Sun obviously are out of the question. I’ll just have to press-on burning, scalding myself, and dropping the kettle and saucepans for a further few days… or weeks! Struggling with the handwashing. And generally feeling frustrated and
I’m in a flutter-panic about whether I should try to get the shopping done tomorrow or not, just in case the maintenance can get to tend to the water problem, I need to be in? Then I remembered, tomorrow the After-Stroke Support bloke or Geriatric Falls Team man is calling to see me. So I have to remain indoors yet again. (Four days already!) In a muddled-mind state now! Innit sad!
Ah, well, it could be worse. I think!
You can see why I’m a Cherophobic, can’t you! I’m not used to it!