Tuesday 29th October 2019
Hmong: Hnub Tuesday 29 Lub Kaum Hli 2019
00:35hrs. Woke again without the need for the Throne. But an imitation wee-wee was taken, of the RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) variety. Once again, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna started off being so kind to me. The right side, all of it, legs, fingers, hands, arm and shoulder, were giving me the odd shakings, and the fingertip nerves were on and off in the sending messages to the brain, stakes.
The bucket had hardly been used again. I grabbed the stick, out of the £300 second-hand, horrendously tatty, beige coloured, c1968 recliner, used the bucket, and wobbled off to the kitchen. Where I took this shot of the morning view. Took the medications, made a brew, and by then, the Porcelain Throne was needed, so off to the wet room. The knees in decent form, but Arthur itis is a cunning enemy, and toys with me, you know. Haha!
Worra session it was too! There was not a lot of areas that weren’t bleeding! The poo, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the nose. Why? No idea, other than Harold’s piles of course. And it was another ginormous evacuation again. A good cleaning-up of the affected areas, then I disinfected the bucket.
A good wash, and back to the nearly cold mug of tea. And took it with me to the computer. The need to get things done as quickly as I could, prompted by my need to leave really early today, to catch the bus into town for the After-Stroke Physio session. (I was not feeling up to walking there today) Not that I had a lot of confidence or willingness to go at all after last weeks farcicalisationalistic four hours of pain! Hehehe!
I got the updating finished for the Sunday blog (Five-hours later!), then started this one going.
Hunger pangs arrived, and I had some cornflakes and nibbled a few biscuits.
Closed everything down, and got the ablutions tended to. Which were a pleasant surprise for me; with only a few dropsies, a winning battle against the sock-glide as well! But the bleeding from the rear-end continues. So, I added a pad in the PPs, just to be on the safe side. Off course, this will mean embarrassing lumps and bulges showing at the After-Stroke Physio session. But that can’t be helped.
Readied things for the trip. Heavy warm coat on (I wish I’d put the gloves on, now!) Then checked taps, doors, lights etc. were all okay. To the door, and the uncertainty rose, had I checked the wet room taps and heater, the stove? With my minds insecurities, fears, and ambivalence, I have to accept as a part of my beinghood and psyche nowadays. Sad as it is. I had no choice but to do another tour around to recheck again. Humph!
All okay, I set off, down in the elevator, which were now both working!
It was flaming cold in there this morning, and the nose began to run, a sneeze and a cough, was followed by a rather alarming involuntary escapage of wind from the rear-end!
As cold as I thought it was in the lift, it was far worse outside! Brrr! Shudder!
I took this photo of a car windscreen as I hobbled by it on Winchester Street on my way to the bus stop. By Jiminy! Winter is arriving now!
There were 14 minutes until the bus was due. So I decided to hobble down the hill, to the earlier bus stop, thus helping me to keep the body a little warmer.
But the walk took me a little longer than I had planned. Due to the obstreperousness of the three-wheeled-walker, and its determination to topple over! (It’s never liked being used downhill) But I managed to control it, I think the few silently-voiced curse words that issued from my mind, might have helped. Hahaha! When I got to the stop, the bus came within a minute or so. Catching this earlier bus helped. It didn’t get anywhere near as full, and the later one does.
I arrived in town and dropped off, going into the Poundland Store. I came out with the trolley bag full, and two carrier bags hanging on the three-wheeler bars. That reminds me, I have not given this trolley a name yet, I’ll have a think about it. I gingerly tested out the handling qualities of Three-Wheeled Tricia Trolley? (A bit long for a name innit?) In these bags were: Flying saucers, mould remover, diaries, nibbles for the bag, and a selection of sarnies for the After-Stroke clan.
I limped, always weary as Three-Wheeled Tricia was wobbling a bit with the uneven weight distribution of the bags hanging in the handlebars. I got through the Victoria Centre (Mall) to the Tesco Store. After a good sniff around, I came out with some Puff Pastry fingers, biscuits for the Stroke clan, apples and a packet of rice. Paid the lady, and went to a table to redistribute the bags again. Not much room left anywhere for anything else now.
But I still departed and walked over to the Bargain Store on Milton Street. Where I purchased a little bottle of Texan BBQ sauce, a packet of Potato biscuits and a bottle of washing up liquid. I paid the lady and had to redistribute the things in the bag to get these things bought into them – unfortunately, I left the washing-up liquid on the side, and forgot to put it in the bag! What a schlimazel!
I’ve put the Street Art came I across, on my precarious trot with the trolley, from Trinity Square to the meeting hall for the crippling After-Stroke exercises.
I had arrived slightly early, so I got myself in a position away from the wind, to wait in, on Goldsmith Street, opposite the UNiversity. Just nipping out now and then, to take these photos as I sheltered.
I hobbled, hazardously with Three-Wheeled Tricia doing her own thing, to Chaucer Street, and got in the Church Hall.
There were five other patients in there, sat on chairs in the middle of the room, and I shouted a hearty ‘Good morning all!’ Then went around each one of them, then the two nurses, and gave a special hello to them. The atmosphere was definitely a low-key one. Which mt EQ warned me of, things would not go well! I put the nibbles on the sink counter, and rejoined the clan of, what can I say? Unenthusiastic Stroke-Survivors. It was so cold in there, too! That may have had some effect on the folks rather, erm… downbeat mood?
The exercises were deliberately rushed through, by Oberstgrúppenfhreressess Tasmin, in an effort to help us keep warmer. As expected, every exercise involving bending of the knees was too painful, and I skimmed over what I should have been doing, guiltily, I might add.
I was enjoying doing all the others, though, and heartily did my bestest with them. Doing the step-ups, I turned to pass comment on the new pictures the kids had done on the stairs wall; And got the impression most people were looking at the rear-bulge in my pants! It is possible it was only my imagined view. But a feeling that they were laughing a bit with each other about it prevailed.
The gang adorned their outer clothing as soon as the exercises finished, including me. The fact that none of them seemed interested in talking to me when we had the break disturbed me. Had I imagined this? It is possible, I suppose. I was feeling disturbed and uncomfortable. Imagination? Lack of Confidence? Self-consciousness? Modestness? Self-effacement? The bulging PPs? Or a combination of these things, perhaps. I continued as if all was normal. The sarnies I took, went down well with a couple of the team, not with the other four though. Which sapped the spirits a little more. Also, we now being only a party of six, which I believe started off as fifteen, many had fallen by the wayside, which was sad in itself but told a hidden tale to me.
I told them and the Generalfeldmarschallesses that I was going half-an-hour early and explained that it was to catch the bus, as finishing at the usual time, gives me an hour to wait for the next one. And I needed to go home sharpishly. I did not mention the blood I could feel pouring from my rear-end, off-course. The response was one of, ‘So what!’ Or was this also my imagination?
I departed, and miserably made my way to the bus stop on Queen Street, aware that maybe things were already showing through the trousers?
Crossing over the pedestrian lights o Upper Parliament Street, took this snap from the island in the middle of the road. I go. It shows the difficulty the buses have in getting through the everyday traffic.
Down to the bus stop, and a lady at the shelter had a natter with me. Nice that!
Penny from Woodthorpe Court got on and sat next to the lady, and we had a little chinwag en route home. I managed to stay in the side-saddle seat, despite the driver’s determination to tip me off of it! Hehe! I also managed somehow, to nod-off apparently, so Penny told me later. Tsk!
We all alighted at Winwood Heights, and Penny and I walked through the Winwood link-passage back to the shiveringly cold Woodthorpe Court. Both lifts were still in operation, too! I tried to make sure my rear-end did was not seen as much as possible. Farewells to Penny as she got out of the lift, and I hastily made my way to the flat. Trolley and me inside, and off in the wet room to assess the rear-end. It was not as bad as it felt though. Yes, well-bloodied, but it had not been torrenting out, thankfully. I toileted, cleaned up, medicated things, and got the jammie-bottoms on, took the other clothes to be hand-washed and freshened up. Wrung-out and hung to dry, I later moved them on to the warm airers. Got the fodder put away.
The meal was started being prepared. An easy to make one tonight, well, afternoon. Chips, a sliced tomato, baked beans and vegetarian sausage with BBQ sauce added and some Aldi wholemeal part-baked cobs. And a decent meal too! I got it served up, and as I did so, the humming, blowing noise that is always around the flat/building, started to get more obtrusive! Grr!
The meal was consumed while I began to watch a Hustle DVD. A most delightfully enjoyed nosh it was! A flavour-rating of 7.9/10!
I realised at this stage, that the wee-weeing had been so much less today, and wondered why. Just thought I’d mention it!
I was really enjoying watching the old series one Hustle DVD, despite my knowing what was coming up and the outcome of the story. Hehe!