Friday 22nd November 2019
Maori: Paraire 22nd Whiringa 2019
01:05hrs: As I stirred into a pretend life, the mind was starting to go off on one of its fear-storms; Luckily the need for a Porcelain Throne visit saved the day, and the brain was diverted to the urgent need of getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner! This morning, my freeing of the gargantuanly-flobby body and onto the feet, was probably on a par with sorting out Brexit! I’ll not go into the embarrassing reasons, but it took me the best part of half-an-hour to get to the wet room – by which time I was too late!
The session was messy, the wee-weeing took an age to stop, Little Ichies fungal lesion needed attention, and the sanitising and medicationalisationing afterwards, has never taken more time to get done! I managed, although my spirits were low now, with the discomfiture, self-consciousness and mortification of what had just happened! Guilt and shame were in there somewhere too!
I took the medications, made a brew, and got on with updating the Thursday blog. At least the myasthenia gravis was a lot easier than yesterday, so even with so many photographs to sort and get in it, it took me far less time today. I seemed to resist my iracundulous thoughts and actions today, and this was a good thing. (I hope I’ve used the right word?)
I went to make another brew and took three photos out of the new, mostly unwanted, unliked, thick-famed, light & View blocking kitchen window. I took each one in different settings: Night Landscape, Aperture Priority and Landscape.
I then got on with Pinterest posting, and on to TFZer Facebooking. After which, I went on the WordPress Reader section.
Ablution time, so off to the wet room – which was another bit of unexpected good-luck for me. Within seconds of stripping off, the Porcelain Throne needed attending! Talk about miraculous timing! This concerned me, with my plans to get out shopping in Arnold for some bread, milk and another thing on the list, which I can’t recall at the moment. I hope nothing untoward happens in the rear-end-exiting stakes while I’m out!
I made up and took five small bags to the waste chute, then returned to the flat, and went through the double-checking routines. Seeking substantiation, validation, verification and confirmation that I had not left something on or off, that shouldn’t be. Lights, taps (faucets), doors etc., and not entirely convinced that I had, (and in a dilemma, positivity and confidence never having been my forte for many years now) I garbed up warmly and departed. I met Malcolm on the way down.
I visited Mary’s flat on the way, I’d not seen her for a while. Just to see if she’s alright. But she was not in, so she might well be at the bus stop?
Met the lady, whose name escapes me, I can never remember. Tsk! As I got out of the lift. A natter and the nibbles came out.
I called at the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinator’s) holding and interrogation office, where I handed a worried-harrassed-looking stern-faced Catwalk Model and Scharfhureress Warden Julie and handed her a nibble. The EQ told me to get out of her way, (I’m no hero!) into the big Winwood Social Room.
I sat in a high chair for a while, musing, stewing about life. Which did me no good at all, everything, (and a lot did fleet-through the mind), that went through the brain-box was of a negative nature I’m afraid. Perspicacious, logical, commonsensical, reasoned, coherent or even insightful ponderations, they were not.
I pulled myself away from the gloomy thoughts and poddled out to the bus stop. Aha! There was Mary, with Penny, Dot and Malcolm. I joined with a “Good morning, each!”, and handed out the nibbles. I enjoyed listening to Malcolm’s entertaining well-presented story of his visit to a theme park with the Grandkids, and the general moaning, laughing and grumps. Hehehe! Penny looked twinkling eyed. Mary was in good form and well.
The L9 arrived for Bestwood, and by then Cindy, Chrissie, Welsh William, Dot, Bill (William on Sundays), and others had joined us. I got on and in the corner Side-saddle seat, and snuggled in the drop board – for I had recognised the driver, and anticipated my having a battle not to be dislodged from the saddle at every corner the bus took. And so it was to be. Hehe! I did try doing the crosswords, but it was too dangerous, with having to cling on the bus furniture and hold the trolley from rolling away, despite the brakes being applied.
I dropped off of the bus in Arnold Front Street and had one of the worst Dizzy Dennis attacks ever. I was genuinely concerned and leant against some pedestrian crossing railings for a while. Everything around me felt like a dream, and not connected with me? As people walked by me, they almost looked like ghosts! This amazingly didn’t last long, and within ten minutes or so, I felt confident enough, to gingerly venture over the crossing to the other side of the road, towards the Fulton Food store. By the time I reached the store, everything was back to reality, and no signs of the dizzies? I can’t deny being concerned so, that I thought for a moment “Hello, this is it!”, but not so.
I was soon in my element, shopping, and finding things that I did not need or want. Dropping items, not being able to reach some. And having to struggle to get the three-wheeler around the place. I ended up getting some bargains, though. Roast turkey slices for £1, Pork Farms Pork Pies, and Beef trimmings each at £1, and two bottles of Sterilised milk.
Paid the lady, and made my way to the High Road bus stop. The timing worked well, I had ten minutes before the bus was due and only had to walk up the Asda (Walmart) alleyway to the top to the bus shelter. As I was reaching the top near the car park, the L9 bus belted passed! It was five-minutes early! That’s if my charity-shop bought £2 wristwatch with its £10 replacement strap, was right of course! Grumph & Grobbleclogs! Grr!
So, I went back down the alleyway and went into the Asda (Walmart) store. To have a meander around while waiting for the next bus, from Front Street, that will take me back to 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 spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination!
It was a struggle to get around with so many customers, it is a Friday, so I suppose I should have expected it. I ended up at the self-serve-tills with, beetroot, fresh vine tomatoes, Milk Roll loaf, Sliced Wholemeal cobs, Potato cakes, and some mini swiss rolls. I paid-up, bagged the goods, and out to the bus stop on Front Street.
Passing near where I had the Dizzy Dennis spell earlier, made the goose-bumps come up. But I didn’t have any more of them.
When the bus got to Sherwood, it picked up some of my Windwood Heights fellow-tenants. My being st in the side-saddle seat, I greeted each one as they got on the bus. One even acknowledged me. By the time I got off the bus, last as is usual, and assisted down to the pavement by a Winchesteronian waiting to get on (Thank you, Sir!), all the others from the bus had disappeared inside Winchester Court. (Gawd, they’re quick! Hehehe!)
I went in and through the link passage to the big social room, and passed the Winwood Lobby, through the next link-passage into a cold, gloomy Woodthorpe Court lift lobby. Up in the elevator and into the flat, no wee-wee or Porcelain Throne visits needed, now that is a rarity!
I got the kettle on, then unloaded the Asda (Walmart) and Fulton Foods. Realising I had forgotten to get the toilet cistern cleaner blocks. Well, fancy that, me, forgetting something! Haha!
I decided , after considerable ponderisationing, on having frankfurters, gammon steaks, tomatoes, beetroot, apple and mini swiss rolls for my nosh.
But decided to get the handwashing done first. And worra mess I made doing it! During the rinsing-out stage, as I was emptying the bowl, the bloody Sensory nerves went on the blink, and I ended up dropping the bowl, with water over the sink and draining board, me and the floor! As luck would have it, I’d stripped off beforehand, ready to get the sleeping-gear on. So drying me was no problem at least. The floor was more of a struggle. No ululations, mind. I was almost pleased that my run of unnatural good luck had ended, and I was back in the real world.
I got the jammie-bottoms and the dressing gown that is too small for me, on. Finished the washing, freshening, wringing and hanging up to dry the shirt and socks.
Then got the meal served up, settled in the £300 second-hand recliner, and began the unfortunately very unpleasant task of eating the plate of evening fodder. Although it did look good, a few ingredients let me down tastewise and by my bad cooking! The gammon steaks were not my cup of tea at all, far too sweet! The worst of my errors was cooking the potato cakes with the gammon, the sweet fat soaked into the cakes, and they were uneatably sweet, too! Eurgh! The tomatoes were so tasteless! The frank’s, apple, beetroot and mini rolls were all fine. I had a couple of the wholemeal cobs as well. Flavour-Rating: 3/10.
I put another old DVD on to watch. Liam Neeson in ‘Taken’. I thought that a goodie-winning film might cheer me up a bit. I tried several times to take a picture of the box, but the nerve-ends were still playing up, and this was the best of the five efforts I tried, and not a good one. Huh!
I started to watch the film, drifted off to sleep, woke, rewound it and watched again… repeatedly! So I gave up after about an hour, and having only watched approximately ten-minutes worth of it! Ah, well!