Thursday 26th December 2019
Icelandic: Fimmtudaginn 26 Desember 2019
As the shakes became manageably calmer, a beseeching call to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) arrived. I mused on how terrible a day yesterday was for me (Self-pity sneaking in there again? Tsk!), and took an SSBDKWTSD (Short-Sharp-But-Didn’t-Know-When-To-Stop-Dribbling) Wee-wee. While waiting for the dribbling to stop, I realised that once again, the big three, Duodenal Donald, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna, were all acting calm for me. Smug-Mode-Adopted! Little inchy eventually stopped his trickling, just as the urgent call to the Porcelain Throne came.
I had a sneezing bout, passed wind, and needed the bucket again. But I needn’t have bothered for it was a DAAOJ (Drip-And-All-Over-Job!) Then I set to updating the gloomy, sad Christmas Day blog. It took me a few hours, and I didn’t need a wee-ee or the Throne all the way through!
I took a shot of the pins (legs) when I got back. They were rather pale compared to yesterday. The Deep vein Arterial Thrombosis, Varicose and spider veins and blood papules all seemed less protruding, too.
I went on the Email and had received one from Sister Jane. This clarified what xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete had been diagnosed with. It is Follicular Lymphoma. I looked it up: is a type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL). It develops when the body makes abnormal B-cells – the lymphoma cells. B-cells are white blood cells that fight infection. The lymphoma cells usually build up in lymph nodes, but FL can start in any part of the body.
Another description I found was: (Blood Cancer) Follicular lymphoma (FL) is typically a slow-growing or indolent form of non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL) that arises from B-lymphocytes, making it a B-cell lymphoma. This FL is the most common sub-type of low grade (indolent-otiose) lymphoma and accounts for 20 to 30% of all NHL cases.
So, I can understand Jane and Pete being a little more content now. Marvellous news!
Back to the blogging work, and got the 25th’s post sent off to WordPress. Not many pictures on it, but I sent them to Pinterest.
The work of the Age Concern Assured Quality decorator can be seen in the background on the door. I’m so glad I believed them and used this bloke! Reassuring to have Age Concern UK to help you. Humph!
I then went on to the WordPress Reader. Got a message from Tim in New Mexico and replied. It made me laugh out loud! Then I went on the TFZer Facebooking page. Then turned everything off, and tended to the coenaculous fancies, and I had a nibble, buttered two wholemeal cobs and ate them with the last of the pork pie and a cuppa.
Black bags were taken to the chute. Carpet cleaning duties.
No Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaund visitations up to now, and that thought brought a smile to my moustached, pot-marked treble-chinned face! Haha!
I still haven’t been on the alfresco seating benches outside since it was built. The weather
The elevator had a voice alert messager that is
A lot of the gang will be visiting family, or away on holiday, so there is little chance of seeing anyone in Winwood or Woodthorpe Court today. But I still hope to get a little nattering in if possible. I moved out into the drizzle on the Rooftop Terrace and took piccies of the still blocked and leaking drains on the roof.
The ailments were being good to me, as I went down in the warm, non-shuddering, working lift (As opposed to the Woodthorpe lifts, Hahaha!). As the doors opened on the ground floor into the lobby, I exited and took these photographs of the extra-decorated lobby.
I hobbled along the link-passageway towards my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of the universal ozone & the spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination-ridden apartment. With its leaking taps, dodgy flushing WC! and finger-trapping metal spring, balcony window openers.
On the notice board, I saw this poster. The last Tuesday of every month, it seems, that the ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) will be available, hanging on the noticeboard in the lift lobby (here?), to discuss any issues? Haha!
I observed, that the Christmas tree was no longer at the end of the lift lobby? So I had a poddle around into the entrance lobby in a search for the tree.
Underneath the hanging from the ceiling electric cable, in the back corner of the lobby.
I went to get the lift, and Anne Gyna started giving me a bit of bother.
Up and back to the flat, and for some reason, I felt all-done-in? No reason for this? Mmm!
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung as the pasties heated up in the oven. I went into the wet room…
The landline light lit and flashed. It was xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete. He complained that I had got things wrong about his B-cell lymphoma cancer. I was admonished for writing 2,500 other people are sufferers, it was 250! He did not want his exclusivity to be questioned and wanted to know why I had got it wrong. I told him I had already written a bit on today’s blog, correcting things. But he was not happy about it! I mentioned how does he always, but every time, call me when I’m having a phoo, shower, shave, sleeping, cooking or on the floor cleaning up when he calls me. I jokingly said; Are you still using the home-made drones before ringing? He laughed maniacally, I heard him spit, then he replied, “Yes, and the clandestine CCTV cameras wot I fitted!” Hahaha!
He dropped his tea, at the same time as I thought I’d left the tap running. I said ‘I’m off to check’ and he’d gone when I got back. I rang back and we had a chinwag.
I got the nosh prepared and served up. Cheesy spud-mash, beetroot, garden peas with demerara sugar and the mini beef pasties.
This went down a treat, despite my battling to stay awake while eating it all. Well, all bar one of the beetroot’s that was hard, like a ball-bearing! An 8/10 Taste-Rating.
I did the washing up and had an INHBBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Barely-Trickling) wee-wee. took the medications. Got changed and into 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, to watch a movie on the TV.