Tuesday 5th November 2019
Swahili: Jumanne Tarehe 5 Novemba 2019
I lay there on the Xyrophobia-suffering, house-breaking, Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, 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 six-months later). The £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working-but not today, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, pondering. Should I go to the After-Stroke Physio Session or not today? After hemming and hawing, this remains irresultative. Uncertain, undecided, and undetermined. I certainly don’t have any energy or desire to attend and be ridiculed and embarrassed by wearing the PPs and struggling with the pain of the exercises… Mmm? At the same time, I am the only one of the few patients, that has attended every meeting up to now. But it was so cold in that church hall last week… And they took the piss, silently, but I picked up on it, about my wearing the PP’s as they showed through the trousers… The of Arthur Itis Knees are giving me some stick, and I’ve not even got up on my feet yet, Oh, sod it. I’ll decide later.
I gingerly evacuated the recliner, caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and set off to the kitchen. Got the kettle on, and jiggled the handwashing done last night, and got them on the airers.
Began on the computer to do the updating of the Monday post. The fingertips were a bit bothersome with losing sensitivity when touching anything hard, which meant it took a long time to get done, five hours! However, the internet signal was doing alright for me, up to now. I sent it off to WordPress and then went on the Reader Section.
It got a bit repetitive, I must say! Humph!
The first photo from outside Woodthorpe Court, on Chestnut Walk. Second, a shop of when I pushed the three-wheeler-guide through a puddle, to clean the wheels before I got on the bus. Oh, I am a good boy! The last one of a Nottingham City Homes -repair van shooting up the hill to the flats, which caught me out! It was about five past seven in the morning, so, either they had an emergency to go to, or they may have left their fags or Guinness in a flat yesterday, maybe? Hahaha! I’m a witty boy, too! (Well, perhaps not!)
The bus arrived, and had to overpay again! With Xyrophobia-suffering, house-breaking, Brother-in-Law Pete half-inching my loose change, and the notes and collectables as well, by the way. Thanks, Peter! The driver did his best to have me on the floor, but I managed to get into a side-saddle seat, alright. As the bus filled up, I was so proud of my dodging any injuries from the Nottinghamian hoards that got on the bus. I decided cunningly, that once in the city I’ll call at Tesco first for bread and Flaky-Pastry fingers. Then out of the shopping centre into Milton Street and down to the Poundland shop, that should be open by then. Before hobbling to the St Andrew’s with Castle Gate URC Church. The rain made me move a little quicker than I would have liked.
I got some nibbles for the break at the physio, some orange chocolate digestives for myself, some cough and cold medicine/linctus for children, that might help ease my sore throat. I paid at the self serve-tills, and stood outside under the cover and took some photographs of Parliament Street to the left and right.
The gang didn’t seem to keen when I asked a few of them of they were doing alright. Precious answered me though, lovely woman, who later I was paired with again, for the exercises along with the Nigerian lady who is still struggling with the language. Still, smiles and laughs helped the three of us to communicate. Doing the bending of the knees exercise’s were excruciating, not that anyone other than I was interested. Haha! Precious and the other gal and I, still managed a few giggles.
When the to me silly gentle music and a voice speaking so low I cannot hear them session started, I moved away, which did not go down too well. I was sorry, but a voice (even if I could listen to it), telling me to think of a beach, and the water and sunshine, dangle your feet in the… You get the idea? It does not calm me down, I was already calm, despite my clattering to the floor and being soaking wet. Hehe!
We had drinkies, and the nibbles were handed out. This week they were soon wolfed-down and pleased me muchly. In the games of bowls, the two gals who were partnered with me earlier won a game each, Smashing! I made sure the others joined my clapping and congratulating them. It cheered them both up a little, and I felt great!
Unfortunately, once again, we finished the session, just as the L9 bus would be leaving Queen Street. So I had another hour to wait for the next one. I said my farewells, got wet and a hundred yards or so down the road, and returned for the carrier bag of fodder I’d left in the hall. What a Yutz I am!
I hobbled down to the slab square. I took photographs from left to the right.
At this stage, my confidence and willpower were being tested to the full! And I was losing! Hahaha!
I pondered about what to do next. The Asda delivery is due, but not until 1830 > 2030hrs.
I didn’t need any wee-wees (A little worrying that!) I decided to have milk roll sarnies, ham and tomatoes, and maybe a few chips? But not until the fodder had been delivered.
I set about updating this blog. The fingers, arm, shoulder, and right leg were not wicked at all? I worked away like a good un, for about five hours, then at long last, I needed a wee-wee. A disappointing VWYSAO (Very-Weak-Yet-Spraying-All-Over), but very little actually flowed?
I heard some banging and knocking, and went to see if the Fire Sprinkler lads were in the lobby, but it was some carpet fitters doing Josie’s new floor covering. I nipped out with a mini-bottle of Gordon’s Gin for her. She asked me if I was trying to get her drunk. I replied, “Oh, yes!” Hahaha!
I imagine they will be on show later on. But will I stay awake long enough?
As the Asda-Walmart delivery was awaited, I took some shots of the fireworks.
The last one of the above is only of the moon: I missed the rockets going up. Huh!
I made the sarnies and bagged them and back into the fridge for after the Asda-Walmart delivery arrives. I put the TV on with subtitles and watched it in silence, not wanting to miss hearing the food coming. Hours later, I was wondering if they had delivered to the wrong flat?
All the staying up late and depriving myself of sleep again! Mind you, other retailers have done this to me before, with no real reason. Tesco (2), Morrison (1) Iceland (3), and this is the second time that Asda-Walmart has let me down. I can get melancholy, cynical, distrustful, curmudgeonly, suicidal, and mardy, you know! He-he!