Saturday 30th November 2019
Dutch: Zaterdag 30 November 2019
23:00hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, almost semi-automatically detached my lumbering, rubbery, flobby-body from the £300 second-hand rusty, rickety-recliner. Up onto my feet, grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, and made my way for a wee-wee, stubbing my toe against the Ottoman, dropped the four-pronged walking stick and knocked over the spring water bottle!
The none-urgent wee-weeing had to wait, while I cleared up the mess I’d made. Miraculously, the ailments were mostly being kind to me this morning, apart from the Peripheral Neuralgia, of course, that will never improve, and slowly as the day went on, Arthur Itis got steadily worse. Nae bothers, from Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Duodenal Donald, Hernia Henry, Back-Pain-Brenda, Dizzy Dennis, any Eye-Zipping-Zelda (Saccades), headaches or Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing. As I made my way to the wee-wee hut, I felt a little strange, not ill, sick or depressed, just peculiar, I suppose.
The weeing was of the MES (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling) variety, then I needed to use the Porcelain Throne. So I had time for a good thinking session. I decided that the recent change in my fortunes, not having anywhere near so many cock-ups and calamities yesterday, must have confused my brain? It’s just not used to anything going right and lack of pains, you know! Hehehe! It can’t last! And also, besides and as well, (LIFL) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was not bleeding! I can’t claim the same for Harold’s Haemorrhoids though, but not a lot.
So, I made a brew, took the medications and made an early start on making up some graphics. I’m afraid the optimism of an hour ago, had diminished! The failing neurotransmitter from finger-tips to brain got worse. So, it became too much of a hassle to keep on CorelDrawing. I began the updating of Friday’s post. Which took me hours to get done. But with blind-faith, dedicated stupidity, several mugs of tea, and even more wee-wees, All of the MES) type, I got it finished and sent off to WordPress.
I made another mug of tea and had an MES wee-wee. I took two pictures from the unwanted, unliked, unsafe, impossible to clean, thick-framed, light and view-blocking new kitchen window. Of roughly the same view. The one on the left in Night Landscape, the right one, in Aperture Priority mode. Which do you think is the best. please? I’d like to get the best out of this Nikon camera. The Canon, even with Tim’s help from New Mexico, I can’t cope with all the things you have to go through to change anything, too complicated for a docile, uneducated old thing like me! Hehe!
I made a start on this post. Got as far as here, and found a photo that I had forgotten to use yesterday. When I was going for the bus home from town, I came across a crowd of anti-capitalist protesters, on King Street.
Here is a link to the chaos they caused. Anticapitalist-Climate Change Nottingham Protest
No mention of them nearly knocking me over when they rushed up the road, I see! Tsk!
I went on TFZer Facebooking. Then had to get back and try the graphicationalisationing again on CorelDraw. Hours later, I’d 2×3 done, suffice for just three posts. In between correcting and amending the work, several mugs of tea, and three MES type wee-wee visits. The fog us coming down a little thicker now. I tried to continue with the graphicalisationing, but the finger-ends damaged Polyneuropathy nerves and Clopidogrel, were just to bad to carry on. I was disappointed and cheesed-off with this. I fear the end to graphicationalisationing might be close, now.
Then, as I considered doing the handwashing, Dizzy Dennis had ago at me. I saw that the Nottingham City Homes supplied monitor was indicating that the Humidity was a fair bit under the green zone. Not that I can remember what someone told me about what it meant. I am thick and blessed with a bad memory!
Then I spotted that the mist had grown a little thicker, too.
Arthur Itis was till unhappy with me, and Dizzy Dennis had another bash too. This is not good. But I have to try to get at least tomorrow’s template done. Here goes, I’ll give it a bash again, hello, the headache has started again now. Grumph!
I may have been computing for too long. But I love doing the blog and graphics. I heard a noise like something falling, so had to investigate the cause, for fear that it might be something dangerous. After scrutinising, I found it was some mail coming through the letterbox. Two junk mail, and a letter from the Sherwood Health Clinic, advising me they had rearranged the appointment they cancelled last Thursday and gave one for next Thursday the 5th at 08:50hrs. Fair enough!
The headache was getting worse, so I nipped into the kitchen, and took an extra Codeine 30g, cause the head was suffering.
I opened the unwanted, thick-framed, light and view-blocking kitchen window, and took a picture of the now very thick fog!
Another attack from Dizzy Dennis. They were not massive ones, but annoying, and I only thought I might go over, once. So copeable with, but niggling.
I decided that the handwashing and CorelDrawing will have to wait, or just be left undone! I was struggling even with just typing now, thought it was a good idea to get the meal sorted while I could. I was not in a good state, but have been worse, and things can change. Typing is out of the question just now. The nerve-ends and Dizzies put paid to that. I see how things go. Must take care when handling the hot stuff when cooking.
I struggled to stay awake when eating my dinner. Taste rating of 8.6/10. All eaten, then pots washed, and down to watch a DVD film, another good oldie, and goodie-winning, ‘Last Stand’ Watched the first five minutes or so, and drifted off to sleep. Woke for the last few minutes of the movie.
Turned off the DVD and TV… Zzzz!
Then, out of the blue, and urgently, I had to remove my grotesque, wobbly-bellied body-mass from the second-hand recliner, and hasten to the Porcelain Throne. And what a change this session turned out to be! I was soon settled on the seat, awaiting the usual burst of activity at the innards own timing, and got just pain, blocked, but I could feel the warm liquid flowing, but nothing substantial. So, out came the crossword book, the pain eased, but nothing moved. I was well into the crosswording and having some success for once, and suddenly and unpremeditatedly, a mass of evacuation material escaped, with a splosh, that sounded like a torpedo hitting the water, I felt the splash! This pain also brought forth a sigh relief; a sort of “Ahahahaaa!” An involuntary smile followed. 
nnel, carbolic soap, shower head, towel, socks, Germoloid tube and as parting dropsy, the shower chair when I was returning it after wiping! However, it missed my body completely! Worrying this, not usual at all! The pins seemed to be getting some new Clopidogrel markings, but the Deep Vein Thrombosis bulges were almost non-existent today? Might have something to do with the Warfarin INR being so high, maybe, perhaps? 
I had about fifteen minutes before the bus arrived, and Louie came a few seconds later. I thought I’d got a good photo of him, but I make a mess of it and got him looking away from me. Tsk! We had a few natters that we could not fully enjoy; when the time crept beyond the five minutes past the hour, which the L9 was due. It was nearly twenty-passed when the bus did come. 
I got the nosh prepared and served up. A salad of sorts. Tomato and chicken slices sarnies, sliced apple, chips (fries), beetroot, garden peas, mini-sausages and pork pie meat. Potato biscuits add lemon mousse as an aside. I ate all the lot of it. Leaving only a few crumbs on the plate. Super! Taste-Rating: 8.5/10! 
01:25hrs: I stirred and seemed to be fidgeting, tossing and turning in the £300, second-hand recliner. So much that I thought I might tip the things over, or fall out of it? I stopped the moving about and felt the aches and pains around the body-mass, torso and limbs. The headache was much easier, but Duodenal Donald had replaced it! I pondered on what, if anything, I was dreaming of that may have bought on the nocturnal-moving about-session. But I couldn’t remember even dreaming at all.
As I fought my way out of the chair and grabbed the walking stick, the thoughts of the correctional needs that had to be done came into my feeble, yet tortured mind. No wee-weeing, no Throne visit, no tea, and no medicationalisationing. I went on the computer to check the Google calendar. 
There’s no chance of any rest or respite showing. With the ailments, hearing problems, Peripheral Neuralgia, Dizzies, Tumbles, etc. and lack of mobility ensuring everything is taking far longer to get done nowadays, life is harder now than it has ever been. 
Got the kettle on and took the medications. For some reason, while making the brew, I thought I’d be able to take some photos on Woodthorpe Grange Park, providing I give myself plenty of time and go out early enough. This walk up the hill to the park, through the twitchel and down and right to the end of Elmswood Gardens and into the Sherwood Health Centre. It used to take me around fifteen minutes walking. 
I set out, taking the glass jars for the recycling bin. As I got out of the lift (elevator), I snapped this shot of the electronic notice board as I checked the right time, and judged if I’d have enough time to take some photographs en route to the 08:00hrs appointment on Elmswood Gardens
I tried a few times to take a picture of the bottles in the bin, but they were all too dark. But the next shot came out fairly decent, I suppose. Considering the bad lighting. Chestnut Walk in front of the flats, towards Winchester Court. When I saw this on and how it looked on the viewer, I almost cheered up. But an 
immediate warning of perils to come, from the EQ, sank me back down again. It’s rarely wrong. As I crossed the road (Chestnut Walk), and int the dark of the trees, the slippery leaves and wet mud, the rain started coming a little, not a lot. (As Paul Daniels used to quip). Is this the warning from my EQ, I thought? Will I slip 
or trip, lose control of the trolley-walker? Mmm! I took extreme care in climbing the wet soil covered gravel path hill up into Woodthorpe Grange Park. By the time I’d reached the top, after a couple of mini-breaks on the way up, the drizzle had stopped altogether.
I stopped at the top, and had a pleasant experience, when a dog being early morning walked, trotted over to me, and stuck his nose into the three-wheeler bag in search of a nibble no doubt! Hehehe! Well, he had to made do with a little fussing, which he shook his tail at, 
which also cheered me up. But the EQ message remained in my mind. It was quickly getting lighter now the rain had stopped and I turned around to take a shot of Winwood Court down the hill. I had to take about five shots before I got this one that was not smudged so much, the finger-end nerves were playing up a bit.
I even considered carrying the trolley up the step on the corner, while it was almost empty. But when I saw the second set of stairs at the top, along with the wet leaves, I thought better of it, and walked around the corner and used the ramp. 
I took a parting photograph of the Health Centre, as I gobsmackingly made my way home along Elmswood Gardens. 
I took a zoomed-in shot of Woodthorpe Court as I meandered along. 
Without seeing a soul, I got up to the flat, and in a right downer-mood too! There was tap-tapping and the howling droning noise was loud… but, then again, it might have been more noticeable due to the swine at the Health Centre messing me about again! Oh, I was so annoyed! 
So, on with CorelDawing. But not for long, fatigue and weariness came, so I got the nosh cooking. 
Nice as it was, I almost fell asleep eating it. 
Got the handwashing done, rung and hung. Just the one mishap, the nerve-ends lack of messages to the brain, made me drop the bowl while I was emptying it into the sink. 06:50hrs: As I was cleaning things up, the Morrison delivery arrived. Substituted Braeburn crap apples for Cox’s. Money-off Voucher not valid, they say the wrong number! Crabs and Grobblecrap!
Got the nosh prepared. Baked beans flavoured with malt vinegar, sugar, Texan BBQ sauce, three wholemeal cobs with a Cumberland Sausage square in each one, and a bonus one in with the beans. Excellent! A tasteless unordered foul Braeburn apple and a Lemon yoghourt to follow.
And collapsed in a heap, landing entangled with the walking stick and swivel chair! Swearing silently (I hope) I surprisingly got up rather quickly and easily, then had a visit from Dizzy Dennis, and sat back down in the grotty-beige coloured recliner. I stewed over what had just happened with myself. ‘Had I got up too swiftly?’ ‘What made me tumble in the first place?’ ‘How the hell did I get back up so quickly?’ ‘How come I had a welt on my chin and head, although I did not remember hitting anything on the way down?’ ‘I had a feel around the limbs and torso, but I found no injuries other than tiny unpainful marks on the face?’ Yet, I had a headache coming on rapidly, as the dizziness dissipated. But my investigations and musings were soon terminated, as the reminder of the need for the Throne gurgled!
I had a peep outside through the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window at the weather. It was raining, which didn’t exactly fill me with optimism for the walk to the physio session later.
The ablutions went well. Only a couple of dropsies and shaving cuts. The search for some cash was successful, and I raised the £2.30 needed for the bus fare. It was in odds and ends, 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p and pound coins, but still. Of course, had xyrophobia-suffering, retired at 40 due to a lottery win and being left a fortune by an unknown relative, Brother-in-Law Pete, not stole all my valuables, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later), I’d have had the money for the bus fare!
I got myself wrapped up warmly, nibbles in the bag, and down and out of the flat, out of the Foyer with its new doors, out into the cold, wet murky morning and hobbled along Chestnut Walk. I took this shaky, distorted sad effort of 
the photograph on Chestnut Walk. Certainly not one of better shots. I got to the bus stop on Winchester Street Hill, my second photo caught a car speeding up the hill. He or she might have been late for work?
As I got outside, I felt a lot better in myself, also a lot wetter. Hehehe! 
Again, when I got outside, I began to feel a little easier, more in control of things, and my walking improved, no more Dennis Dennis for a while after this. 
I had a moment’s contemplation as I awaited the green walk sign. I thought that perhaps all the hassle and anguish of Monday might have caused this morning’s, erm… ‘unwellness’. The dizzies, absentmindedness. As for the paleness 
that scares folks, I’ll ask the nurse in the morning. 
I took a photograph of the ILCs Holding Cell & Office as I passed, in the new Winwood Court lobby, near the lifts. 
Set up, had a wee-wee, took the evening medications and served up the fodder. I was interested to see if I liked this boeuf bourguignon. Well, it was alright, but I’ll not bother with it again. 
I turned on the TV, convinced that if I find some banal rubbish to view (Not a hard thing to do), I’ll fall to sleep for sure. But no! The days Memory-blanks, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops replayed in my mind, over and over, and I ended up worrying myself to sleep. Hahaha!
01:35hrs: I woke up, feeling instantly depressed at the thought of having to go to the After-Stroke Physio session, knowing how it always gets to me mentally, as well as physically. Then I pondered, have I got the right bus fare? Then it dawned on me; it’s Monday, not Tuesday! (I’m quick, you know. Tsk!) 
I moved the handwashing onto the airers. I kept jiggling them about to get it to dry better as the morning went on. 
The right arm, where I’d burnt it on the oven racks taking out Josie’s smoked haddock last night, began to itch, and I found it difficult not to keep scratching it. So I rubbed some Savlon cream on the little scars, this should ease off the itchiness! And it did, too! Any more medical help or advice you need, just call me! Hahaha! 
Off to the wet room for a wee-wee. And what a wee-wee it was! Of the MES (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling) variety. I thought it must be time for dinner when it finally ended! It must have taken several minutes to trickle its way to a final conclusion. I think that maybe, had I used a receptacle to relieve things in, a teacup might have been too big! The pain, as well. Blimey! 
I got in and stripped off for the cleaning session, and boy oh boy, were the plates (feet) colourless! They were whiter and paler than I have ever seen them before! I could be dead here, and no one has bothered to tell me about it, you know. Hahaha! 
In the lift lobby, it looked as if 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, had been busy again? Haha!
I explained my problems, starting with the Pegasus form to be filled in, and the silly bit of paper with the return address on, in need of guidance on how it supposedly works. Oberstúrmbannfhreress Warden Deana (Just a cognomen), knuckled down and helped out straight away. She filled in the form from details held on the Nottingham City Homes computer record for me. Then supplied a safer envelope for me to use for posting back to the Nottingham Police Headquarters. Thanks, Deana!
I made my way back to the flat, taking a snap of the windblown al-fresco seating area in the drizzle. I noticed that the door was ajar. I pressed the green open button, and a chap came along to tell that I must not push or force the door! I explained to him that I did have to if I wanted to get outside! He repeated that it was a fire door – I pointed out that it is not like the doors in the new Winwood Court, that is how come there, is a green button to press, it does not open automatically, you have to push the door! That is what I have been told. He was not impressed; he just repeated that I must not force the door, tutted and went off in a huff! Humph! I don’t know who he was.
!
I was now in a state of utter confusionableitis! 
Hello, a noise from the door again, I’ll investigate. Fancy that, a load of junk mail had been delivered for me to enjoy! Well, that cheered me up no-end that did! A good job I live on my own, for the mutterings coming from under my breath, that was not to be repeated in any civilised company! The Houses of Commons, perhaps? 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Got into the night-attire, and once the meal cooked and served up, tucked into it! 
01:05hrs: I woke, and lay there with uhtceare-ridden fears, worries, and neurasthenia rampant in the turmoil of mentally-handicapping thoughts, ideas, and frustrations blasting away in my mind. A definite reluctance to galvanise my body by getting up and a desire to stay hibernating in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner lingered. Despite my having already enjoyed about five-hours of kip? 
Off to the kitchen, it was still raining outside. I took the morning medications, jiggled the handwashing on the airers, and made a fine-strong mug of Thompson tea. 
By gum, that went well! No toothbrush cuts or shaving cuts. No Sock-Glide struggle (I didn’t put any socks on!), a few dropsies, but you can’t have everything! Got dressed, and made sure the oven was heated up for Josie’s smoked haddock later and put the SoulFood veg chilli in the saucepan ready for warming up.
I found some mail had been delivered. One was bumpf, the other from the CityCare Medicine Team. They have made an appointment to come ad see me on Thursday 28th November, at the same time as my podiatrist’s appointment at the Sherwood Health Centre Clinic! Am I lucky or what? Now I have got to bother someone who will not want worrying, to ring them for me to see if it can be changed! Grumph! 
Back to the flat. I got the cooking things cleaned up. I did a little more TFZer Facebooking and then started to make my own nosh. Which was far less complicated, and needed only one saucepan and one dish to serve the vegetable chilli in. I added two of the mint choc-cakes for afters and a carton of fresh orange juice.
Unfortunately, when I’d cleaned the saucepan and cutlery used and settled into the second-hand, c1968 recliner to dine, the chilli-fodder was just too hot for me to handle and cope with! I’d had this ready-made meal a few times before, and it was perfect for me then, not too hot. And, I’d added some black bean sauce and sliced tomatoes, just the same as previous times, but the first spoonful was like a flame going down the throat! Eurgh! Never again will try this, too dangerous! I think if I had eaten it, I would have been poorly, in a bad way. 
The little skips I had to occasionally incorporate into my so-called ambulatory actions, to avoid banging into the four-pronged walking stick and tripping myself over, really was hilarious. Even when as I left the room, and a little kick-out knocked the corner display, stubbed the toe, and sent stuff tumbling to the floor – but the need for the Throne, left no time for checking on things! 
I got into the room and whipped down the jammies and PPs, again, so timely, well, just in time! I’m getting good at this! It was another of those unbelievably nervous-making, worrying ‘Will the system cope with i
I went to check on things at the front door, something told me to, the EQ I suppose. I found a begging circular that was for the previous tenant Margaret, and a leaflet; ‘Do you want to be alone on Christmas Day?’ Well, I worked for 20 years alone on Christmas Day, well, night, in Security. Now I’ve spent the last eight years worth of Christmas Days on my own, not seeing a soul. So, I’m well used to it by now. Nice thought though, thanks to the ‘Festive Loneliness is Real’ team. As for getting to Bestwood to collect a free meal, with no buses running, I could walk it in about two/three hours, I suppose; if I did need a festive meal? Getting it back home with it would be a little speculative. Hehehe! 
I made another brew, and took the medications to the computer desk, and started it up. (The computer, not the counter!)
I buttered some milk roll bread and got the cooked beef off-cuts. Beetroot, pork pie, tomatoes, apple and mini swiss rolls on the tray. Ensconced myself in the £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. The one that bullying xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later)
