Inchcock Today – Wednesday 13th November 2019: Never has one had a worserer ending to a day. Tsk!

Wednesday 13th November 2019

Hungarian: 2019 November 13 Szerda

23:15hrs: I fell asleep early and woke up early, back to the old much-missed panicky ‘In-Need-of-the-Porcelain Throne’ habit is back. Out of 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. That xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. And he fitted new CCTC cameras, he erected a drone-landing platform outside and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later). Off to the wet room.

It was a mammoth evacuation, but not messy, aroma-challenging, and no bleeding from the rear-end or Little Inchy. All in all, a fair, but coughing filled session!

Washed and off to the kitchen. Took the medications and made a rich brew of Glengettie Gold tea! Then to the computer, intent of getting the updating of yesterday’s post done. But…

I went to set up the Rice-Cooker ready for later…but the plug would not go in the socket! After spitting, making myself cough worse than ever, and a little blue language, I gave-up! Snottleburgers! I’ll have to inform the supplier late. Grumph!

The computer was working, but so slow! So, I got the ablutions sorted early while I gave it some more time. Not a bad session, a few dropsies that’s all, and with it being so early, no noisy showering.

Back to the computerisationing, things seemed to still be a little slow, but it was working at least. Thank you, Mr Fries! I got on with the updating, and with so many photographs from the After-Stroke Physio visit, and all the altercations to report, it took a monumentally long time to get done.

Then after posting, the Porcelain Throne was required again. It was dichotomously poles-apart from the first one, although still massive in size, it was messy. Bloody and a right stinker-phoo! Also, immediately after the evacuation finished, a wee-weeing of monumental proportions came and came and… well you get the idea, it flowed a lot! I had another bit of a struggle to stem the flow, too! Haha!

I didn’t consider things to be too bad all the same. I was getting back slowly to my regular rotten-luck, unfortunateness, boo-boos, devil’s own luck and ill-fortune. Well, after so many years of failure and my being the headmaster when it comes to coping with hard knocks, omissions and miscalculations, the last few days of having the odd little good fortune, was not a little off-putting and worrying! But I feel things are now getting back to the usual suicidal, depressionalistic style. I alright with this, I’m content, cause I’m used to it.

+: As if it was timed for this blog, a Mega-Whoopsie then happened. The Morrison delivery arrived. Which had the Christmas treats on it… but, the driver spotted that one of the mini-bottles of wine, had been shattered! And he could not leave any stuff in the bad or the one next to it, for fear of shards being delivered! 

Fair enough! I ended up with just two carriers of food being left.

The poor driver cut his finger, trying to sort-out if anything could be delivered from the two carriers. But it was too risky for him to hand anything over. He told me to email Morrison’s with the details. Which was complicated, because they do not supply any paperwork with the delivery! Mind you, none of them does now, I don’t think. I thanked the chap and off he went. I put away the stuff that was delivered, not a big job, and took a picture to send to Morrison’s of the goods I’d received. And went on the email to read the order snipped it, and put it on CorelDraw to put a line through the products that had to be taken back. This cost me a lot of time to get done, but I managed it.

It looked clear enough to me, at least.

Then I formulated the wording so they could understand me plainly enough, ready to use on the email.

At least the roast vegetable risotto meals had been in another carrier bag, so were not affected and were delivered for me to enjoy, perhaps tonight?

Especially as I can’t use the new rice-cooker at the moment. Tsk!

Ah, well, Hey-Ho!

I got on the computer and Google Mail. But could I find an address for the Morrisons Customer-Service? No! I found a direct link that would not let me add photographs, which I’d hoped would save me a lot of writing.

Then, to my utter surprise, I got an email come in from Morrisons!

The driver must have phoned and advised them straight away on leaving Woodthorpe Court for me?

So, Jane and Pete, Mo, Jenny, Deana, Julie, Josie, Cyndy and the others will have to wait for their treats now!

The Intercom flashed and rang out, it was the Ocado delivery. He had the precious Glengettie Gold, and Thompsons teabags. Plus the wonderfully tasty Soul-Food vegetarian chilli and the Milk Roll bread with him! The chap put the things inside for me. Thanked him. The fridge, cupboards and freezer were now chocka-block!

I decided to take some nibbles out in the trolley. I know that Jenny are not it today, it’s their feasting-out day. I’ll take the camera, and nip up to Lidl, no, Aldi on the bus to get some bleach. Back in a while… Hopefully! Immediate change of plans when I saw the wind blowing the hell out of the trees. I’ll go to town on the bus if I can catch it in time.

Out, down in the lift, through the link-passage and called at the Oberstgruppenfhúreress Warden Julie’s and Hauptsturmfhúreress Deana’s holding and interrogation office as I passed it on the way. Left the sourdough and milk roll loaves on the desk for them.

Quick hello to Herbert as he was starting a new jigsaw puzzle off in the main social room, and pressed on to the bus stop. A little drizzle had joined the wind. Not a soul waiting for the bus at the shelter, but there were several folks already on the bus. I got on board the Bestwood routed L9 and had a natter as I settled in a side-saddle seat, by the time I had got down, it was time to get up again to get off in Sherwood. Hehe!

I alighted at the bottom of Winchester Street hill. The L9 bus I’d just got off of can be seen in this photo on the right. I plodded on down to Mansfield Road and turned left, to visit the Ozan International Food Store. I’ve not visited it lately, because with my struggling with the trolley in the narrow aisles and steep steps having to be tackled getting around the store, it is a bit of hard work. However, my desire for their lemon wafers and biscuits gave me the will-power to try again. They had now started to display their fruit and veg outside on the pavement! And the food looked horrible. Withered and unappealing most of it looked. Especially some tomatoes on display, talk about macerated!

I got in and started to have a wander in the shop. Struggling to get the trolley around with me in the narrow aisles, I came to the three steep steps up to the so-called, fresh-foods section. This is where I was in the middle of lifting the trolley as I gingerly stepped up, and had a visit from Dizzy Dennis. Twisted the knees as I had to catch my balance, and Arthur Itis kicked into life! From here on, it was limping around painfully for the rest of the day for me! Tsk! I did get some chicken sausages from the fridge. I’d had these before, and found them tasty and morish in the extreme. Which was silly really, with all the ready-meals I had at home in the fridge and freezer, What a Schmuck! I searched painfully, for some lemon wafers or biscuits without any luck. Until I was making my way limpingly (Gawd, the knees were giving me some gip now!) to the till, and I spotted they had lemon mini-lemon cakes, individually wrapped on display near the counter, and added a pack to the chicken sausages.

Paid the gal, and out and up Mansfield Road! Where I met Welsh William, who told me of another shop closing, a Charity outlet, sadly. So we went in to have a look for any bargains in their Clearance Sale prices. William had left, I nosied at the DVDs, in hopes of finding ‘The Negotiator’ film, but no. Still, at three for a pound, I bought these DVDs, even if I have seen them before (apart from Safe House), at that price.

The knees were bad, I had the occasional stumble when the front wheel of the trolley hit gaps and sticking up bits of the paving slabs or slid on the leaves, causing Back-Pain-Brenda to join in with Arthur Itis giving out the pain. Tsk!

A chap came and held the door open for me at the Post Office stores, as I struggled up the steep steps with the walker-guide to get inside, thank you mate! I didn’t have much success in their either. No puff-pastry fingers or Orange digestives. But I bought a pack of Vienna swirls.

Paid the man, who was on his mobile throughout the time serving me, so I could not ask him if he was going to get any Puff Pastry fingers in stock, and I departed out into the oh, so cold sunshine. Still no rain, and the wind seemed to be dropping.

I meandered stumblingly up to and across the pelican lights over the road. And up the hill to the bus stop. Welsh William was spotted, nipping into the Coral bookies on the corner of Hall Street. It is handily placed for its many customers from Winwood Heights. With the cheap booze shop on the opposite corner, this is a boon for the alcoholics and obsessed, addicted, passionate, fanatical alcoholics and gambling-junkies at our Winwood Heights flats. I’ve only been in a bookie twice in my life, never picked a winner. Did the lottery for several years, without a single win of any size. Did the pools for donkey’s years, and won once, 4/6d (23p) for my £1 stake. So, with my record, it’s no surprise that gambling isn’t for me. But I can see the appeal all the same, for someone who is luckier than I. (Which seems everyone!) Hehehe!.

Got on the 40 bus, with Christine. We hobbled from the Winchester Street stop up to the flats. The leaves were making walking safely difficult, and Chrissie guided me onto the road and kept conk for traffic. A couple of near toppling over incidents en route to the flats. A good job Christine was with me. We nattered away and got to the lift lobby in Woodthorpe Court, where we were met by some other neighbours, Christine, Welsh William, two unknown new residents and myself rode up chinwagging as we went.

I got in the flat, and after a wee-wee, got the nosh sorted out and served up. I had the chicken sausages with a tin of chopped tomatoes and added some passata to it. An apple, a Pop-Kek lemon cake, and a lemon curd yoghourt to follow. I ate rather too much Milk Roll bread with it, though! But it was delicious, a flavour-rating of 7.5/10!

I was feeling suddenly drained, out of energy, which is a regular occurrence, I put the tray on the chair, and simply nodded off into heavenly blissful sleep!

Huh! The landline chirped and flashed into life. I grumblingly freed my cumbersome-plump body from the recliner an answered the call. It was a nurse lady from the Medicines Team. The After-Stroke woman who did the six-month Check-up on me had reported to her that I need assistance and have problems with the medications? She arranged to visit me next Wednesday at 09:30hrs. Oh? I thanked her and took the meal things to be washed up. Had a PWWDIB (Pathetic-Weak-Why-Did-I-Bother) mode wee-wee, and moved the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency Bucket) to next to the recliner, I think it will likely be needed overnight.

I got settled again in the second-hand, c1968, gungy-beige coloured rickety recliner, and turned on the TV, to watch some ‘Hustle’ DVD. But soon the doubts of whether I had turned off the hot water tap appeared, and I just had to go and check on it, to find all was okay… But it was lucky that I did this because I’d left the hob on the stove one! Self-Disgust-Mode-Adopted!

Back in the recliner, irritated and low in spirits now. I got the DVD back on, with subtitles of course. And was soon back in the land of Nod! Ah, lovely!

The door chime rang out! I gave a sigh of fed-upness, Hauled my weary torso and attached ailments from the rickety recliner, I put on a dressing gown and answered the door, with full comprehensiveness lacking, I must admit. A young lady handed me a parcel of prescription medications. I thanked her and placed them on the kitchen worktop.

I returned to the recliner and got down to rest again. But not for long. Sleep was now refusing to come. My thought-riddled brain would not allow it. Something was wrong, out-of-order, not right, needed doing, whatever it was, it bugged me not knowing! I got up to check that I’d closed the door properly, yep, all done. Then, ‘Had I taken the evening medications yet? The now puddled mind was playing me up. All these interruptions didn’t help, and my temporary dementedness was a handicap too. I thought I’d get up yet again, to check the tablet-blister packs to check on the doses left in.

Entering the kitchen and seeing the pack of medications, it dawned on me what I was worried about – the pack was nowhere near the size it usually is, so I opened it up, to find that there were no Warfarin tablets. No Paracetamols. Also, no Duodenal Donald medicines and no Macrogul sachets! Something else to worry about, and have to sort out! (I forgot all about not taking the evening medications – Grumph!)

Got the computer on and sent an email to the Pharmacist. Turned off, and back to the recliner.

Could I get to sleep again?

Could I Boggleshine!