Tuesday 21st January 2020
Lithuanian: 2020 m. Sausio 21 Antradienis
00:00hrs: I woke deep in thought, so deep, I wondered if I’d been cogitating in my sleep? (They can’t touch you for it!), I don’t think. Anyway, the p[ondrisationing soon stoppedHehe!
I got out of the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner, and into the kitchen to take the medications, almost with ease. It was one of those, ‘Scare-Me-To-Death’ virtually pain and hassle-free wakings! Unnatural, worrying, casuistical! But I allowed myself to enjoy the situation. But not to the fullest extent; for my EQ has not conversed with me for over 36 hours now, and surely he is overdue to offer advice?
I got the medications taken, pleased to see that I had not missed last evenings doses. Humph! And what an unreliable memoried Shlub I am! As usual, the ‘Hum’ was loud, with the odd tap-tap and gurgling noise. (Thrown in every now and then, up until 0500hrs?) Why, where from, what was making these noises, remains part of 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 universal continuum, offering illusions, delusions, & hallucinations. Exasperated sigh! I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, no sooner made, than the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I shuffled, and still feeling in good nick, physically.
The evacuation was the biggest ever! But, there was little bleeding or pain involved. And, the cistern coped with it! This can’t go on, all this luck! Washed-up, and returned to get the now cold mug of tea dished and a new one made. (That’s more like it!) Straight to the computer and started updating the Monday blog. As Saccades-Sandra began giving me hassle, which made the time correcting was longer than the time writing! With the mystery noises still being heard occasionally, my upbeat start to the day, dwindled!
I eventually got the blog done and posted off. I made another brew, this time Glenghetti, and ‘blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster’, I needed the Throne again! All went well as the first visit did. I had time to check-out the pins (legs) and took a photo. Apart from being different sizes to each other again, they looked good to me, apart from the veins.
I returned to the computer with the semi-warm mug of tea and checked the timing for the Morrison delivery. I’d got an email listing the order, and telling me there were no substitutes or short items. And it will be delivered twixt 07:30>08:30hrs. They did not mention the one-day sell-by date on last weeks mushroom, or the blown and crushed can of Daniels Coke, of course.
I had a look outside and photographed what looked like smoke from a fire in the dark. I took regular pictures for the next few hours of the City Hospital and area smoke. I’ve put them all here o the right, earliest shots down to the last one.
I thought it might be interesting for you to see them.
I went on google to see if any news about a fire was on anywhere, but no. So I assumed it must be regular chimneys that looked worse in the icy-cold mist? Curious how the wind kept changing.
I went on the WordPress Reader. Then on the TFZ Facebooking. Then put some photos from yesterday’s trip to town on Pinterest and my Facebook page.
A third calling to the porcelain Throne came. Blimey!
The mystery noises were then joined by the drilling and knocking from the Fire Sprinkler workers. (Can’t be helped!)
Then the mystery sounds suddenly stopped altogether.
This is more like my regular, usual lifestyle now, yer know. The intrigue of not knowing what’s going on! The mysteries of unknown noises, coming and going!
Then, as if to help me settle my worrying about these patches of good-luck, Anne Gyna started to have a go at me. As Anne grindingly twanged away at me, the workers drilling through concrete did the same! Hoggledruids!
I took an extra painkiller, cause Anne was now in a singularly bad mood with me! I didn’t want to risk overdoing the Codeine 30g, so I had a Co-Codamol. Hope it eases Anne Gyna’s temper, and give me a break.
Aha! The intercom rang and flashed. T’was the was the Morrison’s delivery arriving. I hastened to belatedly get the return carrier bags out of the Steptoe & Son room and got to answer the door. The young man took the bags through to the kitchen for me, and I slipped him a nibble – I could have put that better; (Red-Face-Mode-Utilised) I gave him a packet of Manner lemon wafers in thanks for his help.
I was putting away the fridge-requiring foods, and Shaking Shaun joined Anne Gyna rebellion against Inchies weak battered body! He only had a short visit, but he nearly had me over on the floor! Humph!
I got the none-foods put away, including some Duracell batteries, that claim on the label to be the strongest available. Huh, my ‘Pure’ digital radio can destroy any in a couple of days. We’ll see how these go.
I made a start again on this post. And the landline lit up, it was Sister Jane, telling me that on BBC1, was a program about chemist now charging for deliveries, to all people not on the internet! She rang -off so I could get to the program quickly, luckily there were subtitles on it, so I could still hear if the door chimes went. But it was all over in minutes. But I did catch that Boots and Lloyds (there maybe be others) are both going to charge for delivering prescriptions. Oh, dearie me! Grungle-Grumps!
Back to the updating. But not for long, the intercom chimed and flashed again. It was Leoni, from the Medicine Management team.
She listened while I told her of the absolute farce with Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, leaving me with no painkillers or beta-blockers for five days! And not changing the medications to loose Furesomides, as she requested six weeks ago. She rang them, but just mentioned the water tablets, not the nearly fatal, leaving me for that length of time without medications. Fair enough, I did say that they must have had problems of their own, and have been so good in the past.
Leoni heard the drilling racket noise and asked me how long the noise has been going on. I answered truthfully: “About two-and-a-half years since the upgrading of the flats started!” Telling her of the problems with the ruined carpets, showed her the dangerous state they (Nottingham City Homes) had left the kitchen in, with concrete-like foam running down the wall and over the electricity sockets etc. No one was interested. I added, “Why should they be, I’ll snuff it in a bit, and then they can patch it up ready for the next patient, erm… resident who takes the flat”, by gum she did laugh! (At this point, my EQ communicated with me, advising me that more was to come, so you’ll just have to put up with it!) She told me of the driving conditions this morning being so dangerous. We had a couple of minutes chinwag, and off she had to go, a busy gal.
I made a brew again, determined to drink it this time. And off went the intercom. The beloved Nurse Christina ♥ had arrived, looking a little frazzled and in a rush. It must be the weather that’s delayed everybody today. She was her usual pleasant, highly desirous self, but my high EQ indicated to me, she was stressed. Sweet as always, she bade farewell and shot of to her next, no doubt eagerly awaiting her arrival, patient.
Nearly my head-down time now. But I’d love to do some graphics first. Ah, well, I made another replacement for the tea that had gone cold and started update this diary again…
The door chime rang-out once again. (It’s a blooming good job it’s on the electric supply and not on batteries! Hahaha!) It was Josie, returning the plate cutlery and tray from her meal yesterday. She looked in good health with her twinkling eyes, but busy, no time for a natter, although we did exchange hellos and goodbyes. Bless her cotton socks!
I never got around to doing any graphics in the end. Too drained now. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak and got a meal prepared.
A much too large a plateful, by a long way. Why do I keep making these young men’s massive meals?
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Then did the pot washing, washed me, and got into the night attire.
Then settled into the £300, second-hand, c1968, tatty-beige-coloured recliner, and basically faded into sleep withing half-an-hour or so, as soon as the brain-storm of fears, worries, self-criticisms and confused counter-productive evaluations had stopped.