Day: 27 November 2019

Tuesday 26th November 2019

Afrikaans: Dinsdag 26 November 2019

01:05hrs: Woke, and easy-up (Sounds like an American egg?), from the rickety recliner on my feet, caught my balance. Started to hobble to the wet room for the Porcelain Throne activities that were being demanded from the innards.

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 rose gently, and to my absolute delight, could not see any damage caused to the four-pronged walking stick, as I made my way, gingerly and cautiously, to the wet room. I must say, I was delighted with the evacuation (it’s sad when this happens, shows what sort of life I have, when one appreciates an evacuation, dunnit? Hehe!) There was no bleeding from front or rear. A bit messy again, but it’s been a lot worse. But very little pain, that was a pleasant change I appreciated. I cleaned things up and poddled to the kitchen, musing again on the odd start to the day, and the gloomy thoughts of the After-Stroke Physio came to mind, and my spirits dropped a notch or two at the prospect.

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.

I moved the handwashing onto the airers. Got the kettle on, took the medications, made a brew, and got on the computer to do yesterday’s blog updating. There was not a lot to do, so few pictures were taken while I was flat-bound and suffering the worst day I’d had for months! So, it was done in record time, despite the occasional bit of the autoimmune neuromuscular nerve failings giving the fingertips a few shakes and insensitive to touch moments.

I went on the WordPress Reader, some great stuff on there today, photographs and scripturally. Then posted a few shots to Pinterest. Then went of TFZer Facebooking.

Getting on, and have to get the ablutions done, then have a dig-around and search to find enough cash for the bus fare to town!

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?

The bus driver gave me a rum-look when I dropped all the pennies and silver into the payment box. He kindly waiting until I was ensconced in the sidesaddle seat before he moved off. I worked on the crossword book en route, with varying success.

Getting ready for the others to get off at the Parliament Street stop, a lady held u the massive flow of people rushing off, pointed to me with the walker, said something I didn’t hear and allowed me to get off! That was sweet of her!  I smiled and thanked her as I dismounted the bus.

I took a snap as I hobbled along Upper Parliament Street, not many folks about. I wondered where all those had gone who had piled off the bus? Then, I saw a long queue at the ‘Boots Workbus’ stop.

I got into the Victoria Centre (Mall) and caught my reflection in a window – no wonder the lady assisted me, it shook me how pale and drawn I looked!

As I hobbled to the other end, on my way to the Tesco Store, I had few Dizzy Dennis visits, all short ones, but a good few of them. Things got worse in the store. I found myself suddenly in a different aisle, as if by magic, with sliced cobs in the basket? The blank spots were with me, I could not remember going in the bread section, let alone putting the cobs in the bag! This was not good. I seemed in and out of control, but no one was looking at me as far as I could tell, and I got to the checkout with the lady asking if I was feeling alright, and insisting after I’d paid, she put the things in the bag for me? Told me to take care!

I got a significant visit from Dizzy Dennis on the way out of the store. I stopped and pretended to sort my bags out while waiting for things to calm down. Which they did, but I still felt a little unsteady on the my feet. And why in heck I bought more cooking sauces and seaweed snacks, I’ll never know!

I slowly walked back the length of the centre, and out onto Parliament Street. I’m not sure what happened next. A lady and a Policeman or Security Guard were talking to me. Had I fell over? Had a tumble? Had they seen me stopping so often to catch my balance? Or was it just that I looked so sickly that they came to see if I was alright? I think I was saying, ‘Thank you, I’m fine’ an awful lot? It was going to be one of those in and out of it, memory-blanks days.

As I got outside, I felt a lot better in myself, also a lot wetter. Hehehe! I crossed the road and took this rare photograph of a not-filled-with-pedestrians Clumber Street. Of course, it was still early yet, no shoppers or shop-lifters around. McDonald’s was open with customers, mind!

I went into the Poundland Store, initially to try and get the lavender Dettol antiseptic disinfectant. I came out having to buy another bag to hang the stuff on, and came out with two bags hanging on the bars, and the trolley-walker bag all full! I’d bought 4 bottles of Dettol, biscuits, nuts, toilet blocks, and several nibbles for treats (I think).

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 walked along to the crossing corner, and through Trinity Square up to Goldsmith Street.

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.

The lights changed and started to walk across the road, and a pavement slab was loose, as I trod on it, the dislodged stale rainwater shot up my trouser leg, and fell down into the shoe, giving the left foot a distinctive squelching sound afterwards.

Recollections of getting to and through the After-Stroke session are a bit confused. That is, up until just before the end, that bit is crystal-clear. The early parts, foggy. I know we had laugher, but also a few serious moments (I think). Form-filling? The last bit, we were all sat around tables with nibbles on them. Much laughter here and there. I think I regretted having to leave early, to catch the bus home.

Once out and on my way to the bus stop, things, well, memories seemed back to normal? I took these photographs near Queen Street.

On the bus,  had a natter, moan and laughs with several ladies, I think we were taking the rise out of things and companies? At the flats, Helloed with Penny, Bill and someone else, and made my way out of the rain and into Winchester Court, and through their link passage into Winwood Court. There was an atmosphere in there, no people mind.

I took a photograph of the ILCs Holding Cell & Office as I passed, in the new Winwood Court lobby, near the lifts.

I carried on hobbling down the link passage into the mysteriousness 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. Up in the lift, then the flat, with no living soul in sight.

The bones and limbs were beginning to ache a bit. I got the unneeded items I’d bought put away, well, on the side of the sink. I’ll make room for them in the cupboard later if I can.

Made a brew, and scribbled what I could remember down on the notepad to use in the morning’s blog doing. And had a quiet moment pondering on the day’s disasters. Monday’s was mental problems and confusion. Today’s the same (but to a far lesser extent) with health issues., memory loss and blanks, Dizzy Dennis moment and lack of self-control. That was as far as I got, Humph!

I got the ready-made boeuf bourguignon* & mash meal in the oven cooking. (*Try spelling that when you’ve never had any before, Haha!) Set the timer for 25 minutes, and made some caramelised gravy to add to the meal later. The timer buzzed, and I removed the plastic plate, took off the cover, added the juice and stirred it all up, and back in the oven for another 20 minutes, and set the alarm again.

I thought I’d put on the Kind Hearts and Coronets DVD. Wondering why the heck I had not watched it before, I recall enjoying the film at the pictures when it was released… a few years ago. He-he!

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. A 6.5/10 Flavour Rating is the best I could give it. It was not my kettle of fish or type of meal. Too bland. Without the caramelised gravy added, it might have been uneatable. Nice mashed spuds, though.

I did what bit of washing up was needed, and left the handwashing, as I was now overtired, and the joints were all beginning to ache now. What the ‘eck did I do at the After-Stroke Physio session to feel like this? Ah, it could be that I did tumble over in the Vic Centre, then? Who knows? Certainly not me! You’ve just got to laugh yer see! Hehehe! I went off for a wee-wee! Another enigma this, why are the wee-wees so variable all the time? I only fleetingly considered this question, too weary to bother.

I settled to watch the Kind Hearts and Coronets DVD, in black & white of course. A quintessential British comedy as I remember. At the time I saw it at the Grove Cinema around 1955, I was let in, because amazingly, this comedy/farce about a multiple murdering Duke, was granted a ‘U’ certificate in 1949. Just I’d mention it.

Anyway, I found out why I had not watched the DVD before. It had no Subtitles! I did my best, but the sound was terrible, muffled, screeching, too bad to hear any words! A real shame, I was so looking forward to watching it! Humph!

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!

Poor old sausage!