Thursday 2nd January 2020
Igbo (South-Eastern Nigeria): Tọzdee 2 Jenụwarị 2020
23:45hrs: Ah, I woke up with the immediate needs of old this morning. Nothing mattered more than getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! So much so, that I nearly fell out of the £300 second-hand recliner, dropped the walking stick, and passed-wind all the way to the wet room, and barely made it in time. The evacuation started of its own accord, but soon needed some painful encouragement from me to complete things.
When it was all over, and I noticed a couple of good aspects of the session, only a few specks of blood from the rear quarters, and Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding or leaking at all! The flushing seemed to clear away that plentiful dollop of input with ease, too.
But it left the tummy aching a bit. Not surprising, with having gone so long without the pleasure of an evacuation, Hehe! The pins (legs) seemed to have kept their one more significant than the other status from yesterday, but the varicose, spider and iliac veins seemed to be hiding away? Also, the Clopidogrel lumps and blotches were far less prominent. They had lost their colouring and returned to the ghostly anaemic paleness. Still, their nonuniformness gives my life a bit of interest. The legs and the evacuationalistical variations stop me fever ever getting bored with life! Depressed, yes, but jaded, no! Hahaha!
I finished the updating of the Wednesday blog in good time. Being stuck indoors with no buses and not up to hobbling, meant so few photos to sort out. I added some to the Pinterest site, then went on the WordPress Reader. Next, my enjoyable bash at the TFZer Facebooking.
All ready to make a start on this Thursday post, and I went to make a mug of tea and took the medications. I’d just put the kettle on when bubbling and wind, none-stop, emitted from the rear-end! I may have broken the walking with a stick speed record, as I whizzed, wobblingly to the wet-room! This time, my getting sat down on the plastic time, was cut fine. The evacuation flowed all on under its own steam, and hurt a bit as it did so! It was soon completed, surprisingly the amount of product in the porcelain was astronomical in size.
The system did not cope with one flush! I’d have liked to bend the flapper-valve rod to make the tank fill-up quicker, but dare not touch it, not with my mechanical inabilities and making-a-mess-of record. So I had to fill it with water from the sink and flush again – Twice; before it cleared the system! Tsk!
Washed and cleared up and back to make the brew!
I took this photograph as I entered the kitchen, just cause I thought it looked different.
A wrong decision as it happens. I dropped the metal-four-pronged stick, which bounced against the cabinet and back down, right on my corn! (I may have silently said something like, ‘Oh, bother!’, or ‘Fancy that!’) But I do recall making a mental note to myself: “Don’t go in the kitchen again, without putting the light on first! – Pillock!”
As I made a start on this post: Guess What?
Crabs and Grobblecraps! Well fancy that, and just a week after they turned of the service to Upgrade and Improved the service. Service and Liberty-Global should not be used together; they are so far apart!
It wasn’t down too long this time and soon returned to Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet’s usual mode – Slow!
I went on CorelDraw, to work on a couple more graphics to use in the templates. Got a couple only done and off back to the Porcelain Throne! This second releasing was as big as the first one was! Still, after so long without one, it was to be expected.
The work was saved, and the computer turned off. And off I went to the kitchen to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Then I tackled the risky daily job of ablutionalisationing! It was not one of my luckier sessions. I did the teggies, with several dropsies of the brush (3) and toothpaste tube (1). The shave produces more… I know, I can Christen these as, maybe ‘Whoopsiedangleplopdropsies’? A bit long, isn’t it? Hehe! The shave produced many more, all the razors (5), the neurotransmitters failure to get transmissions to the brain being the cause. Then as if by magic, the nerve-ends seemed to start working again, which pleased me much. The occasional odd lack of sensitivity, of course, occurs all the time, but a batch of them like when I was doing the teeth and shaving, is a rarity. Showering, I managed to keep a hold on the shower-head, but the carbolic soap slipped away a few times (5). All went well with the towelling off. Checking on the pins (legs) was almost a pleasure.
The right peripheral neuropathy affected leg was still much thinner than the left pin. Although once again pale and were anaemic looking and colour.
The Clopidogrel lumps and clumps were not showing at all. There were no more new blood papules, either. And the varicose and spider veins seemed to had gone into a Hide-away-mode?
But the Sock-Glide battle proved to be a painful one. The gripper gave me a blood-blister. Which, of course, was nothing new or unexpected. It was over-confidence that caused this minuscule little injury. When I dopped the glide, and it landed on my toe. I think I may have uttered an exclamatory word along the lines of ‘Bother’ or something similar. I think it might be less painful for me to try and put the socks on manually. I was thinking about it, though maybe not. Arthur Itis, Dizzy Dennis, and Anne Gyna would only give me more hassle. Tsk!
When I started to clean the wet room shower floor after the session, I came across this, whatever it is near the floor drain?
Any ideas anyone, please?
I was spraying some of the Poundland Store’s eau de toilette for men on my treble-chinned neck, and the top came off, leaving me smelling pungently-strong of the perfume rather! Oh, dearie me!
I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, Capsaicin and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Salved the cracked lips. Savlon cream on the injured toe. Got the hearing aids, checked the batteries were working and put them in. Put the correct spectacles on. Then got myself dressed up warmly, got the three-wheel-walker-guide, and took the black bags with me dropping them down the waste chute, en route to the bus stop. (There’s no nipping out quickly when you get old, yer know. Hehe!) I was worn out before I left the flat!
Chuted the black bags, down in the lift and along the link-corridor through to Windwood Court and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens Interoggation and slagging-off Office. The fire-escape door out to the as yet, unused due to the door that doesn’t let us back in, and the weather, alfresco seating area. The door was open again. (I hope to live long enough to have some decent weather, sunshine, and the door and ingress mechanism gets mended, and enjoy a sit out there with the crossword book and a flask of tea).
But I don’t hold out much hope for any of the scenarios I spoke of coming to fruition. Tsk! (I mentioned this later to Steve, the caretaker, but interest was minimal) I suppose if a gang of youths were to break in, well, walk in and rifle and rob some flats, maybe the odd assault on us old uns, it might then be taken seriously by Nottingham City Homes? Or not!
I popped into the Obergruppenführeresses holding-cell office. Handed some nibbles out, wished the ma great new year and thanked them for being there, and meandered into t the big Social Area room, and sateth me down, and got out the crossword book. Fifteen minutes later, (one answer got), I moved out to the bus stop.
In the Winchester Court lobby, I chatted with Angela and Roy for a minute or two, then I went out to the bus shelter. Cor Blimus! The cold biting wind was hardly bearable! The sunshine hitting us, without the faintest sign of any heat in it! Brrr!
A big ganglet of residents grew even larger. So IU had plenty of nattering to listen to. Jean-Mary, Brenda and another lady were the only folks to get on the City Bouid bus, leaving the other fifteen or so, to get the Sherwood – Arnold bound L9. As we got on, Arthur Itis kicked off badly. He kept giving me almost stabbing pains in both knees, for ages. Mary and I had a chinwag en route.
We arrived in the City Centre and parted after getting off of the bus. I meandered into the Poundland Store. The knees made progress slow and painful, but there was no rush. A lot of the shelves were looking a little threadbare, as to be expected at this time of year. I got to the self-serve tills, they were not busy at all. A lady put my things through for me in no time and put them in the carrier bag for me. Thank you, Madam! I left the store and redistributed the goods, so I could cope with them betterer. Putting the more substantial items in the trolley bag, and the lighter in the carrier, to hang it over the handlebars. I’d got in them: Pork Farms pork pies (2), pea snacks, and walnuts. Some screwdrivers with different heads on them (2 packs of 4). A chunky orange Kit-Kat, Orange flavoured chocolate digestives (A weakness, I know!), cashew nuts and a Dettol lemon-scented antiseptic disinfectant spray.
I crossed the road, and into the Victoria Centre (Mall) to go to the HMV shop to see if the had ‘The Negotiator’ DVD in stock.
As I walked through the mall to the other end, Dizzy Dennis attacked me, and I just cannot recall how I got over the road-crossing, went through the Boot’s store, or into the HMV shop. I came around, while I was at the serving desk, and a bloke was asking me about who is in the film? I was still confused as to what we were talking about. The chap was very patient with me. It seems that I could not recall the name of the star in the Negotiator (Samuel L Jackson). The film is no longer made on DVD. Shame! I asked if they had any compilations of Steven Seagal early films. They had only two of his in stock. One under Seige one and two, the other was called Tribal Warfare. A newer one, but he said it has subtitles on it. So I must have mentioned my need of then to him earlier, but had no memories of doing so? At this moment, things seemed to back to normal with me? I’m not sure why, but I bought the Warfare DVD, maybe because I felt guilty about messing the bloke about?
As I left, I got the film out of the bag and had a look at it. Oh, dear! On the banner across the top of the box, it said: Mike Tyson v Steven Seagal! This may find its way to the charity shop without being watched.
I met Mary-Jean, and we made our way to the bus stop to go home. I mentioned I wanted to call in the Next shop, to get spending vouchers for Sister Jane’s birthday. But as we nattered about nothing, failing to hear each other clear enough with us both being a touch-deaf, the calling in the Next shop left my brain altogether! There are times I really annoy myself!
Out onto Upper Parliament Street and to the bus shelter. Plenty of time, so I took some photographs of up and down the road.
We chatted with other passengers on the way home, but I was battling to keep awake most of the journey. Back at the apartment courts, we walked through the link passages back to Woodthorpe Court, the wind seemed a lot worse around the flats. We saw Steve, and I mentioned about the door in the passage being open all day, not much response.
Up in the flat, my thoughts were of a coenaculous nature, and after a wee-wee and washing up, preparation of something to eat took priority. I got the oven warming up, put the purchases away, then got the chips in the oven, and set the timer for 18-minutes, to remind me to put the part-baked cobs in so they were both done at the same time.
I split and buttered the cobs, leaving the oven chips to brown off a bit more. Then added the fries to the chopped pork pie and beetroots on the plate. Added the fresh orange juice and lemon yoghourt to the dish. Along with the medications, and got down in the recliner to feast. Flavour-rating, a worthy 8/10!
All imbibed, I got the pots washed, rubbed some Phorpain in the knees, and settled in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, 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 stole, for safe-keeping he claimed, recliner to watch some TV.
A Kitchen Nightmare programme was on for me to see. But I didn’t. Zzzz!