Sooner him, than me!
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.
Tsk!
I fumbled to find Little Inchy (it was cold this morning, so much so, I put the wall heater on in the wet room!), and spent a few minutes painfully releasing the long, drawn-out trickle! At last, it decided to stop! What’s going on here then? The entire wee-wee would have only filled a teacup if that! Yet, the sensation felt was one that things were going to burst forth like fireman’s hose. Ah, well!
I got everything cleaned and medicated, checked out the legs. They had undoubtedly lost a lot of colour and were getting back to their usual ‘Am-I-alive’ thought-prompting paleness. One leg, the left, seemed even whiter than the right one? The lumps, blotches, blood papules etc. had dissipated somewhat? Still, it makes for a bit of interest, doesn’t it?
I made up a photo, to show how I must have looked after I somehow or other, got the wet dressing gown to fall on me off of the coat-hangar it was drying on! I used it in the Sunday blog, but I show it again. 
Had to have a nibble and brew. I’ll have a hunt around, see worra can find… 
After the farewells and they had gone, and my balance had returned, I went to have a look at the work they’d done for me. 
I got off the bus at the terminus on Queen Street. Still feeling a bit high in spirits. (Yes, it worried me as well!) 
I paid at the self-serve tills. They were busy for a Monday, and the ‘Impatient stares’, Tut-tutting and grinding teeth from those behind me in the queue could be sensed, as I fumbled a bit. 
A lady assistant came to me in the end and whipped the last things through for me. Out and had a walk on the Slab Square. This gathering flock of pigeons. I could not see any food on the ground around them, though? The white ones could hardly be identified with the sunshine glinting 
on the settled rainwater.
Nottinghamians, that there was little smiling! 
s morning. 
I got distracted there again, sorry about that. 
I made my way up Queen Street, showing the long shadows of the citizenry in this snap. 
We were soon back at the flats, and I walked with Penny back through the link-passage to Woodthorpe Court, having a little chinwag en route. 
Got the meal planned, then I shifted the Morrison bananas from last week, from the cool spot to a warmer one. For they were still green! 
I got some chips into the oven, the last of the Kentucky coated ones. 
Then moved some things back into the cupboard under the sink. 
Then got the meal served up. The BLT Poundland sarnie and cut up a mini pork pie and added caramelised onion chutney, beetroots and some BBQ thingies on cocktail sticks. 
I got going on a funny ode that came to mind from nowhere. The incident dates back a few months. I was in town on South Parade, the rain took a nasty turn for the worse, and the heavens opened. I joined some others under the cover of the Starbucks coffee shop doorway. I was asked to move as my trolley was blocking peoples access, so, no problem, I hobbled away into the rain. I got the task done, with doing the graphics, it took me over three hours to get it something like right.
I started the Back-Pain-Brenda annoying task of emptying out the shelves under the sink, in readiness for tomorrows visit from the Nottingham City Homes plumber. But didn’t get very far, for two reasons, the agony from Brenda, and the clump on the chin I’d given myself bending down to get to the cleaning stuff! Hahaha, what a clot! 
Josie’s nosh was served up, and the dishes put in the sink to soak. Making the red Leicester cheesy-mashed-potatoes don’t-half make a mess of the mixing bowl, fork and spoon used! Onto the wheeled server, and out of the door, two paces and I was ringing her bells. (Hehehe!) We had a little natter, and she handed me a tray of leaf-salad, as a thank you.
The plastic and metal new ticker fitted. Duodenal Donald. Cancer of the bladder and prostate. Reflux Roger. Kidney Kevin. Arthur Itis. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Saccades Sandra, then the stroke; 
As I got in the foyer, I spotted that someone had been ornamentalisationing! A bit of decoration for us! I made sure that I did not go near the edge of the ledge, cut of but not painted shelf and pottery. 
over and broken! Tsk! Very pretty and easy on the eye, I thought. 
I took the medications, with an extra Codeine 30g, to counter Brenda’s bother. And reviewed the fodder situation. I was beginning to fade fast, and opted for a simple meal of rice and garden peas, with BBQ seasoning added. Which was not scintillating, but sufficient, considering the amount of food I’ve thrown away due to making the meals too large, was more than enough. Taste-rating; 7/10. 
23:30hrs: I have never woken-up so non-plussed, discountenanced, and feeling so wish-washy before in my life! (No… I tell a fib, when I came round after the heart operation it was worse!) 
I rose from 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. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while 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 took. Then posted off his pools coupon and won a fortune, that complimented his £2010 grand Lottery win. He retired at 40, the windfall of being left £84,000 by an unknown relative enabled this. He’s a lucky lad. 
00:05hrs: I stirred into mock-life, looked around and saw much evidence of nocturnal-nibbling having been committed, and pondered on my hopes and dreams, fears and worries. Then thought Sod-it. Guilty-Mode Engaged! 
Then, I realised I was half-on the recliner, with the better leg hanging partly-off, and I was sitting on my left hand? After freeing the arm and hand, I found this had given me apaesthesia in the thumb and fingers. So, as I used my appendages to help raise myself out of the £300 second-hand seat, I found that I dropped back into it with a thud – and clouted my right elbow against the arm of the recliner! (Fancy that, I said?)
It was eight hours too early for me to use the hoover to clean up, I thought, not that I was bothered about it. I got the kettle on, made whar will probably be the highlight of the day, a mug of Glengettie Gold tea! With the chemist leaving without tablets and medications for five days, I nearly forgot to take them. Phwert! 
No sooner had I poured out the brew, the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I limped, with the stick and picking up the camera on the way, to have a view of the state of the legs this morning. They had regained some colour which was a good thing, but they were yellow! 
The evacuation went okay. Sticky-messy, but little pain and no bleeding. So, fate had slipped me a teaser in there? Something to get me feeling optimistic, before the storm, perhaps? Or am I being too pessimistic? Mmm! Ah, well, I did the cleaning up, returned to fetch the now almost cold mug of tea, and got the computer on to update the Thursday blog. 
I made brew watched U-Tube while I drank it, with a few orange chocolate digestive bikkies. 
The ablutions next. And a jolly decent effort it was too! The dropsies were only about six in total. (The neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain of my synapse nerve contacting, were really the best they have been for days – of course, it didn’t last long, but was much appreciated while it lasted! [Yee-Haa!]) The sock-glide battle was injury-free! The medicating was painless, and the bleeding was to a minimum. It seemed to be going well, all foreign to me, I was a bit worried! 
I opted to get the handwashing done, to avoid the need when I got back from the shopping. My EQ told me (and it was right) that I would be too done-in and shattered to do it then! So, it was done, wrung and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, Hehehe!
Back down the same route in reverse, with a few words of self-condemnation, and thought Winwood into Winchester Court. I noticed through the window that the rain was now a lot worse. 
I hobbled along Front Street in the rain, slowly getting the clothes soaked a little more, and somehow the precipitation had found its way into my left shoe as limped along? Surely this shoe can’t be leaking? It’s only about the third time I’ve worn them from new. Knowing my luck, I wondered why I thought that!
Fulton Foods: Oh dear, they had some pull-top opening garden peas. I just had to get some. Tsk! I got some Galaxy darker-milk chocolate, and a 1litre bottle of white vinegar for cleaning. 
I had to do a bit of quick thinking then. The L9 bus was due in twenty-minutes. Asda, across the road, me wanting some Lemon Curd yoghourt, but would I get them in time to catch the bus? I hastened to the store, as the rain got a little more substantial. 
shelves, but could not see any lemon yoghourt whatsoever? No staff around to ask. I decided to leave it. But spotted they had some rather temptingly delicious-looking blood orange dark chocolate bars, so I grabbed one and made my way to the self serve tills. I paid up and shot out as fast as my little, plump, hairy legs would let me! Up the hill to the bus stop. Where, a shoulder charging, a tut-tutting gang of people were shouldering for a position under the shelter to keep out of the rain. I didn’t take part, too risky!
I made straight back to the flat. And, oddly enough, as I struggled to get the trolley through the door, the little grey lid shot off again. I think it might have to go? I detached the wire basket, emptied the trolley bag and got all the things into the kitchen. Got them all stored away, found the receipts and put them near the computer for taking details from in the morning. For I sure was too tired to be up to doing do any computerisationing now.
I put the t
With temporary, unthinking, casual aplomb, I rose from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, up onto my feet, and got a reaction from Arthur Itis’s knees, well one knee, the right one. I was soon back down in the recliner, holding the knee as mentioned above, and squinching with the pain. Fortunately, past experiences had made me keep a tube of the Fenbid Forte pain gel on the Ottoman. I liberally applied a dollop of to the patella. Then more slowly this time, I got to my feet, things were a lot calmer with the leg now, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and started to move towards the kitchen. 
I checked out the blister-packs of tablets that arrived five-days late and forcing me to miss so many doses; from Carrington Pharmacy, 
I made the brew and took this mornings dosages. Ear-holes oiled, Saccades-Sandra drops put in, etc. all done. 
I’d love to get out and about again. But today, the Morrison order, the window cleaner and a chance of Leoni coming from the NHS Medicines Team (I hope Leoni does visit, then I can tell her of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Their late prescriptions and the Furesomide not being put separately as they had promised they’d be done!) Bitter? Me? Yes! And I still want to see the Doctor, (I will ask for some Anxiolytics, tell her about the dizzies and falling over, and hopefully other stuff if I can find the list I made two months ago), and I have to see the Bank Manager. Still bitter? Me? Yes! Well, pissed-off anyway!
Another interesting event! A record amount of dropsies I think this morning. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toothbrush pot, shaving foam can (2), razors (5), 
There’s a thought, I wonder if the Tate Gallery would be interested in some photos of… No, no, No! My Delphic nature and self-confidence are at a low enough level already, thank you.
I got them unpacked and checked the things out with the list from the internet.
Something, scheme, decision, plan, or flimflam-stratagem was formulating, brewing inside my head as I put away the fodder. But the brain wasn’t letting on to me what it was! Well, that how it is when you have a high EQ and the lowest IQ. Hopefully whatever is maturing in the head, will reveal itself shortly.
I must try to do some of the smoked haddock for tonight’s nosh. I already had some normal mushrooms in the fridge, so I got them in the crock-pot cooking. I might have them with the haddock, potatoes and garden peas, perhaps. It depends on when the window cleaner arrives. 
I got to the lift lobby and was just about to press the call button, and both head-lights went out indicating the death of the elevators! Well, if that doesn’t represent my unfortunate nature, I don’t know what will. Humph! Then it dawned on me, today is the upgrading work by the Mansells Fire Sprinkler team. Ah, well! A touch of pragmatism had attached itself to me, and no-hassle or annoyance rose at all. 
23:40hrs: After failing to get back to sleep in hopes of returning to a fantastic dream I was having, I gave up trying to get any meaningful sleep in. I kick-started the stubbornly reluctant brain into a semi-working state and thought-through the upcoming day’s conditions, needs, prospects, and fears. The stomach pains were still with me, but nowhere near as bad as they were last night. The strange stabbing pains in the right knee will be tested when I escape the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner. 
The serious stuff needed sorting, as best I could anyway. I wrote down these reminders as they came to mind on the pad where last night, I had scribbled notes about the dream, cause I saw the funny side of things for the first time for ages;
The bête noire of removing my bloated, blubbery, bulky, beetling-bellied body from the recliner, was done with a certain amount of nervousness and tension, as I rose to my feet, to test out the knee-cap. 
pertension Herbert), and a loose yellow capsule, I think was a Lansoprazole (Duodenal Donald). No Codeine 30g, Bisoprolol (Betablocker-Ticker), Atorvastatin (Liver), Furosemide (Water retention) or Ranitidine (Reflux Roger) left to use. I do hope they arrive today! 
I gave the Arthritic knees a good rubbing in of Fenbid Forte gel. 
croak-out before the beta-blocker tablets get here, I, like Harry Houdini, the Hungarian-born American illusionist and stunt performer, would love to come back and get my revenge! Mind you, he failed! Hahaha!
I got the handwashing seen to, done, wrung and hung. Only a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of socks.
and Brute sprinkled about.
I got the pan of baked beans and added some of the tikka things to it. No, chicken satay, I pulled them off the sticks and added them to the beans. 
23:25hrs: I bestirred reluctantly and was feeling terribly depressed, confused, and uncomfortably disorientated. The immediate problem was my uncertainty of whether or not I had really lost the blister-pack of medications. How had I got things so wrong as to run-out of beta-blockers, water-tablets, and Simvastatin amongst other important tablets? A lack of self-confidence and self-hatred came through to join the worries and fears for me to stew over. I actually felt sick, not physically, but inside. No help yet either, and this after two tablet-less days! 
And despite the rumbling innards, it was a most decent session. The dropsies were no more than four, no shaving cuts, toe-stubbings, or banging into or knocking anything over. Why even the sock-glide battle failed to produce any blood-blisters, bruises or blood! The EQ warned me not to get too excited, though? This brought the Panic-Depression-Defcon back to Three. Hehehe!
The pins looked pretty good, got some colour back as well. Fair enough, they are a little fluid retaining at the moment. 
bags to the waste chute on the way out. I’ll see ILC, Ballet-Dancer, Hauptsturmfuhreress Warden Deana, to see if she had found anything out from the Chemist or Bank from me. 
I plodded through the link-corridor into Winwood Court and made my way to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation and Body Search Office. All three gals were in there today.
22:20hrs: I stirred into imitation life instantly panicking! I was being bombarde
I got in the kitchen, but of course, there were no blisters of medications available for me to take. So I rooted through the medical drawer in search of any old tablets to take. I had plenty of Warfarin, some paracetamol and found some old Simvastin and Ramipril that I took, but they were both well out of date, but still, what 
choice did I have. I found two beta-blockers that were even more out of use-by-date and took one. 
Then the stand-up ablutions tended to. Again there were a good few dropsies, cuts, bleeding and a couple of knocks when the peripheral neuralgia gave me an energetic involuntary performance of a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, flail-about dance! I’d say the Sock-Glide struggle was a draw. A couple of little nicks shaving. After the washing was all done, I set about applying Daktacort, Germoloid, Savlon, Corticosteroid, Varesil creams and Fenbid-Forte gel. Eye-wash, nasal-unblocker and Saccades Sandra spray. Good job I started the scrub-up earlier than usual! 
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry. The new long-sleeved brown t-shit was washed for the first time – and it is now black! Still, it is thicker and warmer, although far shorter than the expensive one. Maybe if I’d ordered black shirts, they might have turned brown when I washed them? Hehehe! The delights of Amazon, eh!
I got the taxi monies in the pocket with my super G8 mobile. Treats put in the trolley and made my way down with the hopes of Deana being able to assist me with my problems of the bank, and the prescriptions. Or rather lack-of medications, by phone for me, so I do not mishear, anything said.
I took the black bags to the waste chute on the way down. In the lift, to the ground floor, thought the link passage swipe door and along to the end and the Independent Living Coordinators holding and interrogation office. Dropped off the box and knocked on the door, no answer. So, back up to get my coat on, but I forgot to put my hearing aids in. I decided to go back up again, to drop off the trolley and put in the aids, then. This I did, and down again.
When we arrived back at Winwood Court, the two gals dropped me of (I was assisted out of the taxi by Gaynor!) and shot off to the Sherwood for the drinkies. I had to make my way to the ILCs office to try and find out what had taken place concerning the pharmacist. But no one was in, they had probably gone to the ST Anns block already. My stomach churned a bit with frustration and not knowing if the prescriptions will be coming today or not! Off course, Deana may have tried to ring me, but we all turned off our mobiles for Mo’s service of course. Then again, she (Deana) is a busy gal. 
Got the nosh ready. I should have enjoyed it, but with the worry over the medications, I didn’t. Rating 5/0.