01:10hrs: Once again, the sleep came in sessions of a few minutes, struggling to get back to kip, and waking-up again. I’m getting fed up with this. So very Agravannoying! I gave up trying to sleep, and rose from the second-hand, £300 recliner, that Brother-in-law Pete broke while he was flat sitting and stealing my valuables and cash. A rarity of late, a wee-wee was needed. So, I got the stick, caught my balance and hobbled quite quickly to the wet room. I noticed that the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had not been used yestereve again.
In the wetroom, things got a bit messy. As I whipped down the PP’s, I felt the congealed blood pull away from Little Inchies lesion, causing a spurting of the red stuff and an “Ooyee!” from me, as I took the pee! The wee-wee was another surprise, it was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) variety. So different from the last two days weak unwilling, rare trickles.
The cleaning up took a while. As for stopping the leak, that was a masterpiece of cunning on my behalf. (Heads sways with pride!) I had, for the first time in months, had to apply a pad with the Corticosteroid cream, and the last Alginate dressing around it. I thought I might take an extra painkiller when I take the medications, as things were stinging a bit and tender to any touch. But the bulge now in the PPs was something to look at and dream. Hehehehe!
Thank heavens I had the PP’s on, they saved a lot of extra mess to clean up. I got things wiped and finished the medicating, finding that Harolds Haemorrhoids were also bleeding a tad, so washed and Germoloid creamed that area as well. Then got a new pair of PPs on, and gingerly hobbled out to the kitchen. Boy, I smelt like a dispensary! Ah, well!
I got the kettle on and took a snap out of the kitchen window. It was possibly the worst photograph I’ve done in weeks. I wasn’t aware of any shaking, but obviously, there must have been? These mini-shakes often fool me, thanks to the Peripheral Neuropathy I reckon.
As I turned after closing the window, Back-Pain-Brenda gave me one heck of a stab, and she settled down to stay with me, showing her affection frequently. I thought I’d better take the medications now. I got some extra Codeine 30g and tool one with the morning doses.
The stinging from Little Inchies fungal lesion as easing off, at least. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and decided to move the trousers and other handwashing from yesterday, near the heater now they were only damp, they would not leak onto the wall heater.
Rumbling and grumbling erupted from the innards. Back to the wet room, I trudged, in haste, just in case, things started off of their own accord again. Nope! In fact, it was another windy false alarm! I got a few crossword clues while sat waiting to see if any movements may develop. Nope!
I checked out Little Inchies Fungal lesion, and I was so pleased to see things had not restarted bleeding. I removed the Alginate dressing, (There went my pretending to be well-endowed!)
Then checked on the condition of the pins. Not bad at all! Yahoo!
Back to the near cold tea, and started to do some work on the CorelDraw, to make a page top graphic. This took me over an hour, which was too long. I must think about this graphicationalisationing lark, enjoyable to me as it is doing them, I can no longer cope with them. After which I started on the updating of the Thursday blog.
I was doing so really well, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, but Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley and Back-Pain-Brenda both had a ball, giving me hassle!
After finishing and posting the diary, I made a note on the calendar to remind myself to get some new Alginate dressings. The calendar looked very sparse compared to how it usually does. Of course, this sent me into a mini-panic mode! Had I missed something off? Oh, Frecklin-faltering-furious-fermenting-flapping & fear of failure!
Went on the WordPress Reader, then read some comments. Well, the one! The drilling and banging continued, but it can’t be avoided, at least I’m getting out for a while to ease the headache. Haha!
Ablutions time dawned. A few dropsies, but far less than normal. A short Dizzy Dennis attack when in the shower, it frightened me at first, but it was all over in seconds? Then, I got dried of and lubricated and medicated.
The sock-glide battle, I lost. Nicodemus Nigel caused a few finger trappings, and Shaking Shaun arrived as I was putting the frame back on the chair after use. It fell down along my right leg, starting the Clopidogrel scratches to bleed again. Never mind, it could have been worserer!
I got adorned and well wrapped up. I could see it was really belting down out there. Then carried out my pathetic double and treble checking dorrs, tops, electrics etc. all over the flat. And set out with the black bags for the waste chute. The workmen had to make room for me to get through the lift lobby, and they took the bags from me to put down the chute, bless ’em.
In the elevator down to the ground floor lobby. I hobbled along the link passage into Windwood Court’s lobby and called in the ILC’s Obersturmbannführeress Wardens strip-search and interrogation office, and dropped off the Manner Lemon Wafers for each of them. Then into the Winwood Social Lounge.
I nipped out a door, to take a shot of the flooded bottom field in Woodthorpe Grange Park. I shouldn’t have done that, I got soaking wet! Hehe! Schmuck!
We’ve got Storm Jorge due any day now. As if it wasn’t raining and blowing enough already!
Some other residents arrived while I was outside. Welsh William, who lept an eye on me in case the door swipe would not let me back in, and the bookies dread, Malcolm sat with two other unknown to me tenants, and they had a chinwag while waiting to go out for the bus. I went to join in, but it became apparent that my having to keep moving to avoid Arthur Itis’s knees stiffening, and sadly my Stuttering Stephany affliction, was not appreciated. So, I left them to it and poddled to Winchester Court. Plenty of folk about, but none of them was interested in a chinwag. The thought of going out in the ‘Get-You-Wet’ rain for the bus didn’t encourage any nattering.
I poddled out to the bus shelter, but it was full, so stood in the rain waiting, and Caroline arrived and we had a talk between us. The gal has lost more weight again, she has family problems as well, but she kept herself in good spirits, bless her cotton socks.
Most folks bustled onto the Bestwood bound bus. A few got on the City one, as I did. No one to talk to from my side-saddle seat, so I got the crossword book out for the journey. Not that I solved many clues en route this time.
I got off the bus last on Parliament Street. Just as well I did alight last, I might have got crushed or trampled in the mad rush off of the vehicle!
I was not going to stay out too long, but called at the two shops I intended to. Poundland, and the Bargain Shop. (That was previously called Poundstretcher’s) Had a hobble around town taking photographicalisations and getting wetter all the time. I’m going to do a post about the hobble around, in pictures, so won’t duplicate them all on here. Here’s a few of the trip around getting soaked to the skin. Hahaha! I’ll put them all on the other post when I get it done.
I tried to get under shelter to take the Slab Square photos. You would not believe how cold the fingers were, and I had just removed the woolly gloves to take this picture of them poor digits.
I had to keep emptying out the rainwater from the basket top tray.
I got to the Queen Street bus stop, and Shirley joined me. We nattered and caught the bus home. She wisely sat at the back of the bus, so, no nattering again. Out came the crossword book, this time with a modicum of success! My pedagogical limitations on other clues were there normal sort of, ‘Blankness’ mode. Many of the unfinished puzzles were tackled again, but my failure caused dysbulia, and I gave up!
As usual, I got off of the bus at Winwood Heights last. The others who got off first were encouraged by the wind and rain to shoot inside rapidly.
Leaving a lonely old Inchcock, with his walker guide and two bags of shopping hanging from the handlebars, to hobble in their wake, into the Winchester Court lobby. As I made my way through the passage and Winwood Social Lounge, I felt a bit of a wanwit, as none of my ‘Good day’s’, ‘Are you keeping well’s’, or ‘Good Afternoons’ was answered by any of the folks in there? I wondered if I had developed B.O., or my flies were undone? Ah, well! I plodded on through the link-walk into Woodthorpe Courts lift lobby. Caught the elevator up to the I2th floor, and exited into the lobby, the busy workmen’s area. I had a bit of a job to get through to the flats. But, got in after a bit of elbow knocking, trolley tipping, and painful clouting of my left knee on the door frame.
Fatigue overcame me almost immediately for some reason. As I was fumbling to get the bought stuff from the bags, I found I was feeling iracundulous with myself? Self-loathing and hatred flowed, and why? I didn’t really know? Had I forgotten something? Mmm? Not happy with this at all. Well, not happy with not knowing why is more to the point.
I put away the bought items from Poundland. Dettol disinfectant, disposable razors, spray bleach, and sliced Wholemeal rolls. Then the Bargain Shop purchasers: The brown extra-large Throw, Woolite Dark, Oxo vegetable cubes, a jar of beetroot, and a pair of scissors.
By then, I was slumping into an unexpected, unaccountable, depression? So very agravannoying, not knowing why!
I decided to get changed into my night attire and have a wash.
As I took off the trousers, I went to empty the pockets, and there were only a few coins in there, yet I was sure I had a pocketful earlier on? Then, I found the hole in the pocket cotton. I also looked around and discovered the odd coin in the hallway, living room and kitchen! Hahaha! I think I may have lost some in town, on the bus, and walking through the link passages as well, cause there was nothing like the number of coins I’d had after paying up at the Poundland shop! I bet I left a trail everywhere I went! I sealed the hole with some Elephant tape, I hope it works. Miffed with myself about that! (Ah, that should have been Gorilla tape by the way)
My mind turned into a ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode! I got the nosh prepared, and thought about doing the handwashing. But the ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode made me Phwert! and leave it undone. I was a smidge surprised I even bothered making anything to eat!
I nipped into the wet room for a rare-today wee-wee, and one of the most painful ever toe-stubbings against the seat-raiser leg somehow shook me partly-out of the depression. I found myself cringing with pain and laughing at my clumsiness, and inarticulacy at the same time? I washed and as I left the wet room, things were lighter, brighter, less worrying?
Back to the kitchen to get the meal served up. Feeling in much better spirits. Even my dropping one of the wholemeal Dagwood style tomato and ham cobs on the floor didn’t annoy me! Although struggling painfully to get back up from the floor, after retrieving the aforementioned food, rattled me a touch. Humph!
Again, getting to sleep took hours. When I did drop off, I woke an hour or so later, and I’d had the pleasure of a dream. I was flying as Superman would, on a starry night, with a cat, that I believe was Tim ‘Hancock’s ‘Silver’, flying at my side, and talking to me in an American toned voice, maybe we were racing each other somewhere, no more details available in the brain-box, I’m afraid.
02:00hrs: I can’t say I woke up, cause I never-not really got any sleep after waking up last night realising I’d missed the dentist appointment again! Boy did I annoy myself with that Accifauxpas! I’ve spent hours cursing myself and feebly trying to thing up some miserable excuse to use. Cause last time I did it, I just told them the truth, which was, “I just got confused and forgot about it”. That (the truth) did not go down well with them at all! Oh, dear and Flungledamnations!
I’m still agrynoyd with myself now! So much, so, I rose, intending to get on the email asap. To send a message of super-cringingly, craving for forgiveness and begging their understanding. But, first things first, I had to get out of the £300 second-hand recliner. Which turned out to be an almost painless, and an easy manoeuvre for me. Until it came to grabbing the walking stick. I foolishly lifted the four-pronger over the chair instead of going around to get at it.
Naturally, Shaking-Shoulder Shirley twitched into life, and I hit my head as I dropped it from the maximum height it went to! I believe I might have muttered, ‘Oh dear!’ or something like that!
However, the hobble to the kitchen used little effort with no pain or hassle, and I got the brew made. But suddenly there was no time for drinkies, the Porcelain Throne alarm rumbled! And a right odd session it was too!
I got there, I thought in plenty of time, but as I began to sit down, things activated of their accord. Talk about lucky, thankfully I didn’t wait before moving in the direction of the wet room as soon as the rumbling began. Else things could have been dodgy and messy! But the day was saved! No extra cleaning up, even the evacuated product came out quickly, and in almost black little tiny sugar cube shaped lumps. Yes, it surprised me as well! So, this is how good-luck feels? Smug-Mode-Engaged! I cleaned the pan then myself.
Back to the kitchen, the tea was cold, so I made another mug of the Punjana tea. I took it with me to the computer, and as I started it, one of those terrible moments when you feel you’ve forgotten something, or not done summat arose. I wonder if there’s a word for this feeling? It wasn’t a panic, but I was worried, nervous about it at the same time. Nowt’s come to light or anything yet.
Still feeling a little low at my cock-up yesterday, the feeling, no, desire to do a self-knocking ode came to me. It had to be satisfied. So, I made one up. The words flowed out with ease, and it was soon finished and being posted off.
Then the grind began! Updating the Wednesday blog. Crikey! It took hours about six hours to get done! The number of photographs to sort and get on, and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were the main culprits for this wasted time. Shirley had actually stopped a few minutes ago, and she’s left me with an aching, probably bruised, if that is possible, to bruise a shoulder joint! This right one is not getting a lot of peace lately, with Shirley getting frisky so often.
As I was about to go through the comments, the same rumbling and grumbling came from the innards. So, off I went to the wet room again. This evacuation was back to the messy, gooey variety I’m afraid. Much cleaning, freshening and medicating required. A lot more bleeding this time, too? Beats me, why? Then again, me being beaten, is nothing new.
The workmen have been hard at it all morning. Funny how sometimes it does, then the noise doesn’t bother me? It can’t be helped, drilling through the flats concrete is a hell of a job.
Back on the computer, with a fresh mug of tea, of course. I tried to get the comments done again, and the intercom flashed and rang out. I could see a blokes stomach on the monitor an ID badge on his chest, couldn’t understand anything he was saying, but I let him in. It turned out it was a meter reader. This brought out thoughts of British Gas (The French-owned company) reminding me of their overcharging me, lying and telling different stories about the meters and the billing, then took me off of the cheap night-rate back onto a single straight cost. Put the price up, and asked me if I’d like to move to another company??? He went into the electricity cupboard and got the reading and shot off. I noticed that some mail had been delivered, five letters lay on the floor. Everyone a circular!
Back to the comments, although by now, I was getting tired. I’d been taking pictures over the morning from the kitchen window, for a sort of time scale display. Here they are on the right.
The sky is looking amazing now, with its artistically flowing clouds. They are Cirrostratus type, I think.
I nearly went to get some biscuits to nibble, well, shame is I did go and get some. But I limited myself to a pack of three caramelised ones. Well, it’s a start to my upcoming diabetic diet?
Then I got a message on the mobile, looked it up, and it was from the Diabetic place. I have to ring them, on 0121 386 6971. I don’t suppose they were told about my hearing on the phone problems. Hang on, 0121? Isn’t that Birmingham? I looked up the number on the web. It was for Stopdiabetes ‘Ingeous’, so, I rang them.
Don’t know what it cost me, but I had to wait for a Speaking Message that I could not hear the words of. I pressed one and hoped for the best. Then waited for the piped music to stop. Then I got the chap. I was on the line for a good while. Especially with having to ask the man to repeat himself so often. Asked about times, I requested as early as possible and explained my problems with PM appointments. He looked up what was available, and he said an 09:30hrs one is free, at Top Valley. I explained about my problems getting there, my mobility etc. and he left me again to have another look. He’d found Sherwood Community Centre do the lessons, but may not have any free spots, but he will try to find out and let me know, he will ring me later.
I interposed, explaining that if I am out and anyone calls, I cannot hear the mobile in traffic or busy places! He sounded patient enough with me. I asked if possible, a text or email would be better. He was non-committal on that. Telling me, they have auto-phone calls set-up?
He then told me that an educator would be running the 60>90-minute course. “Educator? I could be an educator if you want to be educated on how to cut up and slice a spencer of bacon!” That got him! No sense of humour! Hehehe! He gave me some new telephone numbers for me to ring. Told me if I haven’t heard anything in a week, to ring them back again. Mmm? The Sherwood Community Centre would be fine for me. I could walk it in about 40-50 minutes if necessary. Providing I was up to tackling the climb up passing the tree copse, on the steep gravel path on the hill into the park, down to the main road, and along to the centre, and manage to get over the road without mishap. Fingers crossed that they can fit me in some time!
Back for visit three at the Porcelain Throne. A repeat style of the last one, messy! Very much so! Had a job cleaning and medicating again.
The pins (legs) were looking alright though. I’m certain those long Bamboo socks are helping.
I got some parsnips in a tray, with a quick spray of olive oil to soak-in ready to go in the oven later, and a can of peas in a saucepan.
Then got on the WordPress Reader section.
Then on the TFZer Facebooking.
At last, I could get the nosh sorted and served. I was going to treat myself to some chips but managed to resist, and no bread either. This is all so foreign to me, no potatoes, chips or bread? The future is bleak! Haha! The overcooked in the oven parsnips were tasty! Flavour Rating: 7/10, so not bad at all.
Got the pots washed, and had the inspiration to wash the trousers, and let them drip dry on a new hangar over the sink.
I took this evening shot in between washing, wringing and hanging the trousers. I thought it rather pretty with the tiny moon up high.
Remembered the medications a little late on, but no matter, I took them.
I settled in the £300, second-hand, much-abused, c1968, rickety non-working, recliner, and got the TV on. TRying to watch any of the programs between nod-offs, was a mordacious affair. As tired and short of sleep as I was, there was no way I could get to sleep and stay that way, again, like last night. Wake-up – Groan and moan to me… Nod–off, Wake-up – Groan and moan to me… on and on this misery went for hours!
Ah, well! At least the wee-weeing seems to be less intrusive, not a single leak all night!
As made famous by Monte Python. Written by Eric Idle, a genius!
♪ Keep on the bright side of life. De-dum, de-dum…♪
♫ Some things in life are bad They can really make you mad Other things just make you swear and curse When you’re chewing on life’s gristle Don’t grumble, give a whistle And this’ll help things turn out for the best And… Always look on the bright side of life Always look on the light side of life If life seems jolly rotten There’s something you’ve forgotten And that’s to laugh and smile and dance and sing When you’re feeling in the dumps Don’t be silly chumps Just purse your lips and whistle, that’s the thing Always look on the bright side of life! ♫
May your foibles ferment with frenzied festivities for fun!
00:30hrs: I stirred and passed wind, the gurgling, bubbling and churning from the innards, convinced me to rise and get to the Porcelain Throne with some haste.
As I freed my massively flobby-framed body from the £300, second -hand, c1968, sickeningly-beige coloured recliner and rose onto my feet, it dawned on me: “Aha! The Arthur Itis sharp digging pains from yesterday were no longer there! This is the second time this has happened. Why I have not the foggiest. Same as the first time, I was virtually crippled for a few hours, then it slowly eased off, and things have returned back to normal, still hurting of course, but not debilitating any longer. Oche, I’m baffled!
The visit to the wet room proved a total failure, despite the gurgling from within, and escapages of wind, there was no movement whatsoever. Still, I got a couple of answers on the crossword done. Haha!
And got a shot of the pins. A few new Clopidogrel lesions, the knee-lumps and veins were showing far less, and a lot more colour tone to the skin. I reckon the Bamboo socks are helping things improve. And, I had remembered as ordered, to take the socks off at night for sleeping duties.
Some new lesions that had been bleeding were feeling a little bit tender to the touch. I’ll mention it to Dr Vindla when I get to the surgery.
Ah, well, I anticipate, and my EQ advises me that the test results will be likely to show a new Inchcock ailment.
Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on and sorted out the hanging to dry washing. I did note that the shirts seemed to have regained some of their original colour, (All bar the expensive brown thin one, that changed to green!) which initially baffled me a bit. Then I recalled that I’d used the Woolite liquid I bought so cheaply from the Bargain Shop.
A glance at the bottle labels, and I noted it claimed to Revive Colours of darks. Blimey, a product claim that is true and works! Well, I never! I bet when I can get back to the store to get some more, it’ll have sold out! It’s bound to, my luck ain’t that good! Hahaha!
As I took the tea back to the computer, I saw that I had gained some more bruises on the arm this time. What causes this, which of the ailments are to blame is another mystery 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 spacetime continuum. With Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, illusions, delusions, and hallucinations, rife. Amongst my vague, palaverous, chimerical, inconsequential, torturous fight for existence! Back to the bruising. I looked up what might cause them: Medications that cause easy bruising, include Warfarin, Thrombosis, and Clopidogrel; Huh! I’ve got ’em all! So it should be expected to bruise easily. Which I do. There you are, at last, I’ve found something I’m good at! Gasconade Moment Enjoyed!
I had to try and sort out the broken mixed up medications in the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA supplied blister pack. But I’m not sure that I got it right with the beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate), with the tablets all mixed up in the damaged Pill-pack?
Made a brew, and took some leaflets back to the computer with me. In a vain hope to get some clues as to which tablet is which.
The wee-wees today were all of the annoying, flipping INHBBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Barely-Trickling) mode, and pretty frequent.
The non-activity from the rear-end, might be partly through my having tried the Halloumi Fries, from Iceland last night? They were not cheap at £3 for 190g, but something told me they might taste good, and they did! According to the label, the only content was Halloumi Cheese? I looked it up and found it contains cow’s, goat and sheep’s milk. Originated in Cyprus. I enjoyed the taste, but not enough to pay through the nose for it. So, I shan’t try them again… Unless maybe I find some cheaper to try somewhere other than Iceland.
I got the computer going at last, and did some graphics on CorelDraw for page toppers, then made a start on this blog. Forgetting all about not having updated yesterdays yet. There are times when I worry about myself. Humph!
As I went to get some mushrooms and leeks into the crock-pot ready to put on when I go out later, Toothache Tim and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley both kicked off! I put some light soy sauce and red sea salt in with the food – now all I have to dop is remember to put in on a low-setting, and turn on the pot as I leave the flat. Are you offering any odds on my not forgetting?
I began to update the Inchcock Today for Tuesday. I gorrit done in a rush and tended to the ablutions. Can’t be late for the Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Key Fob updating Wallahs, can I?
I got readied, and double, treble checked the state of the flat, and that I had everything needed, and departed.
I’ll be back much later on… TTFN. I’m back, and it’s tomorrow morning, as I try to catch up with the updating of this blog. (Who said retirement is boring? – Hahaha!)
I set out, intending to drop off the waste bags down the waste chute, but could not get through the workings tools spread in the lobby, to get there. Then I realised I had not got my hearing aids in. Back to the flat to collect them, and when got back to the lobby, the chaps were again working. They kindly took the bags off of me and dealt with them. That was kind of the lads.
Down in the lift and walked along Chestnut Way, no raining, and it didn’t feel too cold, by the time I got to the end of the road and turned down Winchester Street, the pavement was again blocked by vehicles. So, more of the risky, life-threatening as I had to go on the road to get by. Harumph!
Once I got half-way down the main road, I stopped to put my woolly gloves on. My fingers and hands were white, and oh, so cold? Yet the rest of my flobby-bellied, overweight, tubby body, didn’t feel cold at all?
My hobble along Mansfield Road to the surgery was relatively pain-free. No Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, Hernia Henry, Reflux Roger or Toothache Tim bothered me at all. Confusing, but then again, how often does this happen to others as they eventually get an appointment to see their Doctor? Hehe!
I got inside and went to reported to the Oberstgruppenführeress receptionist. They are all nice gals really. One of them signalled me to sit down before I could log in, another nice gesture! I got seated, but Arthur Itis was not keen on the idea. I felt a right fool taking so long to just sit down, the looks from the other waiting patients, were varied. I got out the crossword book and was soon deep in concentration, mainly cause I got a couple of answers.
Doctor Vindla came out to collect me, but I didn’t hear her at first, and she made me jump when she tapped me on the shoulder. More odd looks were spotted on the faces of the other patients, as I struggled up on my feet.
I knew from the look on her face, that the test results were not going to be good. I took the opportunity to mention the lesions on the leg. She assured me, despite my telling her I haven’t had a fall in days, and am sure I have not been scratching at the legs (I can’t even reach them to do that! – ah, maybe in my sleep?), that I had been scratching at the legs? She then informed me of the Diabetic ailment I’d acquired. Well, no, not that, but Prediabetic. I was to go and see the nurse, who will go through what needs to be done and take some more blood for further tests. I thanked her and she walked me out to the Nurses treatment room to await being summoned.
I made the mistake of thinking it might take a while and sat down to do the crossword puzzle. But it was only a couple of minutes and the most gorgeous site appeared! ‘Nurse Nichole!’ Wonderful, gladdening and uplifting! I’ve not seen her for months!
In her room, and she was going to take the INR Warfarin blood; until I explained that the beautiful Nurse Christina had taken it yesterday. She then got my permission (and thanks for) to forward my details to the Nottingham City Diabetes Services, who’s service includes: Telephone education, advice and support to both patients and healthcare professionals; emotional and psychological support; structured education programmes (both group and one to one sessions); continuous blood glucose monitoring; foot assessment; care-planning and insulin initiation and management. (I looked that up later) They will contact me to arrange an appointment, and put me on a weekly ‘training’ course, locally, for 19 weeks.
We had a little natter and laugh about other things. And off I poddled, dropping some nibble off at the reception, and out into the cold sunlight.
I limped slowly, deep in thought, then along to the Lidl Store. Not many customers about this morning. I got inside and had a meander around, looking for bargains or some tasty-looking treats. I resisted the temptation of looking at the cream cakes, for those are a definite no-no from now on, I think.
I got to the self-serve checkouts and bought: Puff pastries, caramelised onion chutney, Skipjack tuna in brine, anchovies, parsnips, cooked meats, tomatoes and Amaretti biscuits. The latter being a nibble-pressie for the Sturmscharführeress ILC wardens back at Winwood Heights.
I was not worried about the new ailment and thought of a new name for it. I came up with Diabetic Doreen or hopefully, Prediabetes Petunia! Hehehe! An interesting look-up on Prediabetes: This site gives menus for what you should be eating. A possibility of adiaphorous happenings if I eat any of these! I can see I’ll be popular in the training course. Tsk!
However, it has kale, cauliflower, avocado, broccoli, spinach, brussels sprouts, eggplant, zucchini, or bell peppers on every recipe. All of which I have been told not to eat, due to my varied range of other ailments! Oh, dearie me! Now I’ve depressed myself!
I caught a bus back to Sherwood, and took some shots of the Charity shops on Mansfield Road, there was plenty to choose from.
Crossed over the road and made my way up to the L9 bus stop. Where I was greatly cheered to see Margaret and Doris amongst others, sat there at the shelter. I mentioned the diagnosis. Someone said: “Your not the luckiest of buggers are you?” Nayer a truer word spoken mate! Margaret, with her deadpan delivery, soon had me laughing as we nattered on. Bless her!
We arrived back at the flats, and I remembered about the key-fob having to be re-set, in the large social room. I thought I’d enter via Winwood Court lobby and drop off the Amaretto nibbles, then walk through to get the fob sorted. As I passed the front of the building, Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and desk-top dancer Julie opened the fire door to remind me to get the key-fob done.
I got in and dropped the biscuits off in the Wardens Interrogation and body-search office, and into the big social room.
The fob was soon done, then I made my way back to the flat through the link-passageway. During which, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley enjoyed herself with a rather intense bit of quagswagging.Not for long, though. I got to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby, and into the cage, and up to the flat, without seeing anyone whatsoever.
The first job, I got some parsnips chopped and in the pan simmering with some sea-salt.
A brief visit from both Shirley and Dennis had me shaking and wobbling a bit, but once again, it was only for a matter of a minute or so.
Put away the purchasers, and I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Then got the nosh served up, washed the pots first, before settling down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, Charity shop-bought, rickety recliner to die! That was a bad misspelling! I meant, to dine! Hahaha!
Note the lack of chips, fries or potatoes on the plate? I’ve got loads of them still in the freezer, though. I hate the thought of giving them away, just in case I weaken at a later date! (Coy cynical laugh) Maybe, perhaps, possibly, if I just have chips or potatoes twice a week? Oh. dear! I’m dithering even more than usual over this! A taste rating of 6.5/10 given for this meal.
I got the TV on, but I nodded off before the programme I wanted to watch came on.
An hour or so later I sprang awake. The dentist, I forgot the Dentist again! Self-loathing, total disgust and despair grew!
I lay there, spitting insults with hatred and venom at myself, for I don’t know how long. Farmisht and ferdrayt at my own stupidity! I genuinely feared for my future saneness, rationality, stability and capableness. The lousy mind-boggling Thought-Storming started. No rest, peace of mind, and no sleep for yonks, either!
01:20hrs: I think I’d woken, fell out of the recliner, got my walking stick, and was on my way to the Porcelain Throne before the brain engaged? There I was, sat on the seat, wondering how I got there?
Yuk! The movement flowed, stutteringly, I think that’s the right word. Being an algophilist, I almost welcomed the otalgia that kicked off in the left earhole! It distracted me from the totally antipodal evacuation I was going through. The Senna (it seemed) was suddenly working, and boy did it! The complete reversal had given me a messy, sticky, pongy and smeared with specks of blood experience. Sounds awful, doesn’t it? The innards churned and ached for the whole lengthy, stop-start process. I actually felt a bit weak when it was all over. No more Sennas or Movicol needed today then! I cleaned up the right extensive mess, on me first, then the porcelain. Medicated certain areas. Changed into new PPs, and noticed the stomach had not calmed down at all. I might be in for another visit shortly, methinks? Huh!
I made my way to the kitchen, got the kettle on, and was reminded of last nights Accifauxpas when I spotted a sole chip that I’d missed in cleaning up the one’s I’d dropped. Courtesy of Dizzy Dennis and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure. Oddly, I felt a little down remembering this incident, why when so many happen, I don’t know? But there you go. I just thought I’d say so. Hoho! (I might be losing it again here?)
Sorting out the medications was a right hit & miss affair. The Pillmate pots. With the come-loose cellophane cover, had all the tablets mixed up in different pots and hidden stuck out of view on the cover! What a pickle I got into trying sort out what’s what.
I still don’t know for certain if I have taken the right tablets or not.
I must remember to thank the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA for their consistent incompetence. Not a bad record these chemists, they have gone downhill this year, at a fast rate of knots.
They failed to leave the Furesomides in the box to save my confusion, with them, the Codeine 30g and the Beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate) all looking the same to me! This, after the nurses and the medicines management lady phoning and telling them of the problem!
Then, they left me with no medications for five days, with their late delivery!
And, they had still not put the Furesomides in a box.
Now, they continue their campaign of ‘Let’s-Let-Down-Inchcock’, by sending the medications in blister-packs that fall apart and mix up all the tablets with each other! However, to be fair, they now have, after only three months, put the Furesomides in a separate box. ( A little, but welcome victory there!)
Did I mention the name of the chemist? Just as a warning for other NHS patients: Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA.
I made a brew and took the gamble of taking the medications.
Then got the computer on, and realised that I had no template for today’s blog made up! Oh, what a right Shlump I am! So, I had to make up a draft, graphics and all. So, I did!
Then made a start on this blog up to here, and then began the updating of the Monday and Special Trip to Nottingham posts.
I had to stop, to get the ablutions done. Not such a good session this time, back to a more blighted, calamitous, accidentalness-prone variety. The dropsies were many and varied, amongst them, the toothbrush and past, the mouthwash bottle, the razors, carbolic soap, the flannel, the towel, the haemorrhoid cream, the olive-oil pot and the deodorant spray. But no complaints or minging from me, I’ve had two decent sessions on the trot after all!
But, as I was stepping out of the wet room, the right knee clicked, and the ensuing pain was terrible. From then on, I had to use two sticks, it was so tender.
I then got the handwashing done. Jammie bottoms, long bamboo socks and a long sleeve t-shirt. They were soon done, rung and hung. I like these new coat hangars, with the non-slip crossbar on them. The right knee was just as bad.
As I was getting back on the computer to do some blogging at last, on today’s post, the intercom sounded and flashed. It was Angel Christina, and the Iceland delivery together. When they arrived and saw me struggling to get about, they both took the groceries into the kitchen for me. Very kind of them!
When I showed Christina the framed photograph of her, she was over-the-moon, and asked if she could buy it from me! Much as I would have loved to oblige her, I really wanted to keep it, so I could glance at it every day and get some pleasure from the sweetness it, and she gave me.
She set about taking my blood. We chatted while she did it, which didn’t take long at all. She said she was off now, and I reminded her that I needed her input, and type in her email address on Google for me, so I could send her the photographs I have of her on file. I opened the Email on the ‘Compose page, and she wrote it in for me. She had to shoot off to her next patient. I thanked her, offered her some Manner lemon wafers, which she bravely refused. Off she went… it was like turning alight off!
I set about checking out the Iceland order. They were short of three tins of Batchelor’s potatoes but sent me one. The pork Shoulder steaks were unavailable. But hey-ho! I got the things put away. I now have the fridge and freezer at full capacity! No room left.
I nipped to the wet room for a wee-wee, and the right knee clicked again, and things are back to how they were earlier, with both knees only slightly painful as when I woke up? Baffling!
I went to make a fresh brew of Glengettie tea. The heatless sunshine was brighter than ever now. So for some reason, I took three pictures from left top right, in an effort to piece them together. My days of taking the proper panoramic shot are over. I just can’t keep the camera still enough nowadays. The effort was not good. I’ll not bother trying again.
Back to the computerisationing. I need to create a couple of page-top graphics to use tomorrow and Thursday, cause the Doctors visit will take too long for me to do them then.
I got one done. Humph!
Food! The craving arrived early today. I had to have the Halloumi Fries that Iceland had delivered, and they would not fit into the freezer (I thought they were fresh ones when I ordered them – such a shock to find me getting confused – Hahaha!)
The Halloumi Fries were expensive at £3, I thought. They were not bad at all. The cheese cob tomato sarnies, caramelised red onion chutney, beetroot, black tomatoes and a Cox’s apple, followed by the Lemon yoghourt, all went down nicely. Flavour rated at 7/10.
Got the pots washed and adjusted the handwashing, it wasn’t drying very quickly today.
Wash and in the recliner, and the ‘Thought-Storming’ began. Most uncomfortable, and it took me ages to get off to kip!
02:00hrs: I rose, got out of the £300, second-hand recliner, caught my balance, and as the need for the Porcelain Throne developed, I realised that Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were all being kind to me! Good Stuff this!
I hobbled straight to
the wet room, with fingers, crossed that some unpainful movement will be passed. It wasn’t! Things felt rock solid again. After a go at crossword book, I realised that things were not about to develop, despite the innards rumbling and tumbling. So, off to the kitchen for tea and medications. It’s a breakfast I’ve become used to now. Haha!
I got the kettle on the boil and started the new blister pack of medications. Oh, dearie me! I could not see any of the Bisoprolol-Fumarate (beta-blockers) in the Monday pouch section? Mmm! I investigated closely and found, as I looked at the bottom of the pack, that many tiny pills had escaped from the pots, into either other tubs out of view, under the cellophane cover that had not been stuck on properly!
So, after taking eight weeks, no, ten, to get help with the problems of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA leaving me without medications for five days, and to change the tablets (Furesomide) back into packs. This is due to having three tablets of a very similar size and all white, in the same pot, I was taking the wrong ones! Still, they initially found a temporary solution to this, by leaving me without any tablets at all, for the five days! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!
Then, after begging help from the Medicine Management Team, The Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital, the Falls Team, the After-Stroke Care Unit, The Haematology Nurses, I can report that nothing changed! Then, I spoke with my Doctor Vindla, and Hey-Presto, the tablets were separated.
This month, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, now I am back to the start again, and having tablets I cannot recognise, as the blister-packs are not assembled correctly. The tablets are getting shared between pots and stuck out of view underneath the top sheet!
If nothing else, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA are persistent and reliable in making cock-ups and putting my life at risk. So, if any Nottinghamians have had enough, and wish to depart the world, try getting your prescriptions from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, they’ll do their best for you! Frogglemoths!
As one age’s and hopes (risibly) for a peaceful life’s end, you can rest fully assured that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, will do their best to destroy your dream. Bless ’em!
Now, this may sound like eristic, choplogic verbiage… that is because it is! Humph!
As I was starting to do the updating for yesterday’s blog, the stomach suddenly gurgled. Off to the Throne again. Much agony was suffered, but at least I’d rid myself of a right dollop! Medicated the bleeding and applied some Care cream.
Back to the computer, and thanks to the ailments kindness, I got it all done and finished on a couple of hours. (A smidge of swankiness overcome me!) I put some bits on Pinterest, then I made up the template for, and started this post.
A few minutes later, it was back to Porcelain Throne visit Mark-3. (Tsk!) What another painfull session, but this time a massive, messy, malodorous affair! More cleaning and medicationalisationing was done.
A go on the TFZer Facebooking next.
Ablutionisationalistic duties next: Astounding! Total dropsies: Three! Honestly! The sock-glide was bit bother-ridden, but no injuries to report. No cuts shaving! And the legs (Sorry for the lousy photo, got the shakes), were looking much better. I think the Bamboo socks are really helping with the Clopidogrel. I can’t believe how well the session went!
I got things ready for the trip to town. (despite the rain falling, Humph!) After much oscillating, shilly-shallying, and treble checking the state of the flat for safely before exiting (and still uncertain), I set out. My hesitancy, indecisiveness, fence-sitting and differing undecidedness, is beginning to annoy me more than ever! My vincibility is too apparent. Help needed! In the lift lobby on my floor, it looked like the workmen were going to do some more noisy work on the floor and wiring. Still, we’ve had about two-years, 4-months and twenty-one days of it, now. Not that I’m counting! Haha!
Down to the ground floor, and though the lovely warmth of the link passage to Winwood Court.
Seeing the rain through the window en route, was a tad demoralising. Haha!
I nipped in to see the wardens in the Iteroggation & Strip-search office. Nibbles left with them, well Lydia, she was on her own in there. Then to Winchester Court lobby, and a few tenants were there in the dry waiting for the bus to arrive, so I joined them. Had a mini-natter with Angela and Penny.
The trip to town is almost a total blank, apart from having a chinwag with Penny en route. (I think) A Dizzy Denis visit cause this spot of amnesia. Tut!
When I got of of the bus and got wet, things got back to normal mind-wise. (Well, as normal as I can expect).
As I hobbled up to the crossing lights, I got a sneer-come-scowl from a Student when he saw me get the camera out. I just threw a glare of contempt back at him!
Then crossed the road and I limped along the very wet and puddled, Glasshouse Street, and on to the Aldi store on Huntingdon Street. Where I spent a lot of cash, buying far too much stuff, as I saw various treats and weakened. Caramelised biscuits, lemon fool desserts, Room sprays, cheese, cobs and tomatoes. As well as the garden peas and Sourdough baguette that I had gone there for in the first place. Sad, innit? The trolley bag was filled, and I had to use a durable bag and hung it on a handlebar of the trolley-guide.
Paid the gal on the till, who was patient with me, and helped pack the bags for me ♥. Out and over the road to the Victoria Centre.
I cut through Old Street and spotted my first bit of Nottinghamian Street Art. A little further along, there were smashed bottles and glasses on the pavement?
I cut through the shopping mall and out onto Mansfield Road. Out into the precipitation again, a chap held the door open for me too. Thank you, mate! Then another bit of happy-making, I saw my first smile of the day! From the gal in this photo at the back. Things were looking up!
I called in the bargain store. Another financially-fatal decision! As if I needed any proof of my equivocational tendencies, I came out with two, I say two different fabric softeners because I couldn’t decide which one to buy! Now that is pitiful! Along with some nougat, sea salt and BBQ seasoning grinders. Out into the rain, and limped through Trinity Square onto Parliament Street, and along to and down Market Street.
At the nearest point to the Student colleges, I noticed the paving slabs, that were replaced a few weeks ago, had already got the artwork of their chewing gum designs.
I took so many photographs, in the morning I made up a post of the visit to the town and posted it separately, to this blog. It has many more snaps on it, and some sadly written odes with each photo. Haha!
Down the hill and through to Wheeler Gate, and into the Poundland shop. Where I came out with even more Caramelised biscuits, fabric softener, cobs and more things that I cannot remember now (I lost the receipt).
Walked around the square, and took some pictures, then up to Queen Street and the bus stop.
Another food delivery Pavement Cyclist, a new one I think, he was checking his phone, presumably on s sat-nav site? And his box was too clean. We have 20 food outlets in Victoria Centre Towers, plus about 15 in the malls. I have passed at least 25 others in town today, how are they all making money?
I was the only person at the bus stop, and the bus arrived on time. Sad, that we are to lose the service on the 1st April, or was it March?
At the next stop, the bus filled up a lot, and Penny was with them. She moved to sit next to me when she saw me. I liked that!
A lovely nattering session all the way home. Most of it was concerning us losing the L9 altogether, and how it will work with 40 bus replacing it. No one knows for sure.
We got inside, and in the link passage, I asked Penny if I could take her photo, for my blog. Penny put on a smile for me, and this is it, open the left.
We pressed on, and Peny got off the elevator, and we exchanged our farewells. I carried on to the 12th-floor, and into the flat’s foyer, and rang Josie’s bells (They can’t touch me for it! Haha!)
Josie saw me struggling to get the trolley in the flat, with all the bags, and came and carried things into the kitchen with me. Bless her! I thanked her profusely.
I was doing well, physically, and put the stuff away. No guilt at getting so much? Which normally would have shown itself?
I got some chips cooking in the oven, got washed and changed ready for settling after eating, and prepared the plate on the tray with many and varied treats for myself.
Then, after I’d started to take the oven chips out… things got into a series of frustrating foul-ups! First, the nerve-ends let me drop the chips on the kitchen floor! This caused some naughty language to be spoken!
And, as it timed and fated, Duodenal Donald, and Anne Gyna both kicked off together! So bad, that I left the chips on the deck, and took a good swig of the pathetically weak Peptic medicine. Then returned to salvage what I could of the chips, and checked them for any muck, putting those that looked clear, back in the oven to rewarm! I was beyond bothering, it annoyed me so much dropping the food!
Eventually, I got the meal served up. Albeit with far fewer chips (Humph!)
An excellent meal. Taste Rating 8/10. Had it not been for the fiasco of my dropping the chips, and the thought if still having to be cleaned up after it, the score may well have been a record. Dangwangles, damn and blast My ailments!
Still, Nurse Christina might be calling tomorrow! Hey-ho!
I cleaned up in the kitchen, then got down in the xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while 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 took, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
Things were not good pain-wise. Anne and Donald made sure of that.
02:00hrs: Things went like lightning after I woke up, no time for thought-storms or ponderisationing! Woke, wobbled out of the recliner, wee-wee bucket wetted and to the kitchen. Kettle on, and a diversion to the Porcelain Throne.
That’s where things got nasty again! The second I got down. well, as I got down, the movement started. But it was all out of my control again. (I expected this with the blockage last night, Humph!) I was in there for ages before the mass released itself into the bowl, with a thud. The agonistical pain was horrendous! I was convinced that the blood must be flowing, and I might possibly have just split or broken a part of my innards! Relief, the bleeding was minimal, and things seem to be okay. There was an ominous silence from my IQ? Not so the ‘Hum’! Bogglebugs!
Got the kettle on, and made sure I took some Sennas with the medications. With the attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing, I was having trouble opening the packet of Sennas, so got the sharp knife to cut into the foil. T’was not the best Idea! Just a tip here for you, or anyone; Make sure you keep the scissors where you know they will be! Klutz!
I popped back into the wet room to see if I could find the aforementioned scissors. And noticed that I had still not re-attached the curtain rails last hook. dropped the hook, and had to bend down under the sink to retrieve it, Guess what?
I found an old, lost-long-ago (Many months!) aged picker-upperer, behind the floor cabinet! So decided to use this, to try and get the hook back in the hole. I would never use the one that Jenny had given me, in case it got broken as I was balancing on the chair. Wallah! The curtain is back to normal! (Head Swanking!)
I got some graphics done on CorelDraw (two) and started to update the Saturday diary.
Shaking-Shoulder Shirley (Gawd she makes my glenohumeral joint ache!) and Saccades-Sandra both gave me a few moments of hindrances, and it took me yonks to get the job done and posted off. Many hours!
I tackled the ablutions next, I was fairly chuffed when the curtain ring didn’t fall off when I used it. Hehehe! The dropsies were plentiful. But, no shaving cuts! No sock-glide injuries either. Fair enough, I did partly clear the high floor cabinet of medications, but I can’t expect too much, can yers?
I tackled the hand-washing next, and what a feat it was!
As I finished spreading the Saturday and this morning’s togs all around the flat, I took a picture of the windows, and just as I was pressing the button on the camera, the lights went out, making me jump a bit. Ah, well! No idea what the problem was, but it flashed back into life in a few seconds? Yet another 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 spacetime continuum. With illusion, delusion, & hallucination, rife! Oh, and the damned ‘Hum’ as a permanent resident!
As her personal Sunday Chef, I started to make Josie’s lunch. Cheesy potatoes, pickled gherkins. tomatoes, smoked haddock, tuna in brine with Coronation dressing, cheese and a Limoncello dessert. A can of Jack Daniels & coke, oh, and a bar of chocolate.
I delivered to Josie’s flat. We had a little chinwag and laugh, and I took this photographicalisation.
Then, I returned to tackle the washing up. Them-there cheesy potatoes don’t half stick to the cutlery spoon and fork when you mix them. I knew from experience to leave them to soak for a few hours, in red hot water and washing-up liquid, so I did!
The leftover potatoes, I thought I’d have later. And popped them in the oven to brown off and keep warm. Then, I made up six bags of rubbish and took them to the waste chute.
I put my weekend plan into operation! That was to go to Winwood Court, on the roof and take some pictures.
I got the coat on and set off out of the flat: But didn’t get far. Dizzy Dennis attacked, the head spun, and my balance went a little dodgy, so back to the lift and up to the flat.
It’s just as well that Dizzy Dennis made me return, I’d forgotten about the cheesy potatoes in the oven! Phew, a close call that was!
I got my meal made on a used, about to throw away foil baking tray. (That’ll save on the washing-up, Snigger!
A right mess, another failure! Taste rating 5/10.
I got on with the blog updating, but it was gruelling work. Dizzy, Saccades, and Anne Gyna were all hard at work disorientating me.
As I decided to give up, another urgent call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. It wasn’t as bad as the earlier visit, but it was a close call! I must remember to tell Doctor Vindla about it on Wednesday when I for the results of the tests. I’ve taking Senna for a while now, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything beneficial?
Got the medications and down in the recliner. Some good stuff to watch on the box, but I watched a YouTube of the Fury v Wilder 2 contest on the computer. Turned off the computer, and got in the recliner again.
The thought-storms started, and sleep was very late coming.
22:30hrs: I woke with my woolly nightcap underneath my spectacles, but this did not matter. I was burstingly in need of a wee-wee, fearing the uncontrollability of my situation could prove dodgy! Getting out of the £300 second-hand, c1968, grungy-beige coloured, clapped-out, threadbare, dilapidated, rickety recliner was done with more haste than was safe really! But the need for the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket), made me throw caution to the wind and I hobbled the few paces to the bucket without the walking stick… Foolish!
An embarrassing (thank heavens there was no one with me or any CCTV coverage) incident as I picked up the bucket, I lost my balance. I won’t go into too much detail, it was a bit gory! I clutched at the fireplace top as the bucket fell out of fingers, it clouted against Little Inchy and started the fungal-lesion bleeding straight away. And with perverseness, the wee-wee began of its own accord! So, there I was, knees on the fire hearth, a bruised elbow from the fall, Arthur Itis and Back-Pain-Brenda both kicking-off… and wee and blood flowing!
The first thing was to get up off of the floor. Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? Humph! By the time I had managed to rise onto my feet, the night attire was wee’d and bled on! The photos, clock etc. from the shelf were scattered about the floor, the grey bucket lay in a spreading pool of liquid, the knee bleeding, and Duodenal Donald had joined in with the other ailments. Oy vey!
I set to, clearing and cleaning the room up. During which Anne Gyna started giving me some bother. I started with sorting out the carpet, then got the clothing off and into a bag for handwashing later. It took me about an hour to tidy things up. Then, my attentions were needed in the wet room. For medicational investigations, and bucket sanitising and damage limitational duties.
I grabbed the just charged up last night Nikon, and off to the wet room. Where it dawned on me that I had left the Bamboo socks on overnight again! What a schmuck!
I set to, having a good wash down with antiseptic-disinfected soapy water. I still felt I could smell the urine, and washed, well, scrubbed all over again.
The legs still bore the marks from my forgetting to take the long bamboo socks off for sleeping. The second night I’ve forgotten about them! I need to concentrate more now. Along with all the other ailments, I’m going to have to put up with the feeling that there are worms wriggling beneath the skin! Huh! Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations!
I got things in a better condition, although the thought of all the extra handwashing didn’t exactly cheer me up. I could hear the horrible ‘Hum’ droning noise increasing as I spotted the delivery from last night on the floor near the door.I’ll get it opened and checked out after I’ve got the clothes in soak.
So, off to the kitchen, kettle on and clothing soaking in the bowl. Took the medications, and made the brew of Glenghettie tea.
I got the box from the hallway, and opened the carton up, to take some photographs. Unfortunately, I dropped the lens cover. As if to rub in my bad luck so far this morning, it rolled right underneath the book cabinet! Unbelievable! So very Agravannoying!
I had the torture of getting down on my knees, with the picker-upper that Jenny had given me, poke about and retrieve the cap. Getting back up again was painful, stressful and brought a Dizzy Dennis visit into the equation! What next? I’m proper fed-up!
I opened the box and took out the contents. Four pairs of extra-long Bamboo socks, and 20 hangers, with moveable hooks. They should make life easier for me… Huh, what am I saying!
At last, I got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog. Which should have been a lot quicker than usual, with so few photographs and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters not playing up so much. But, with being held up with the Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpas and sorting cleaning up after them, it was a very late start. Then, minutes into starting the post update, that sickening sensation a wet and warmth came from the lower region!
Yes, Little Inchies fungal Lesion was flowing again! Of to the wet room one more time, and it took me ages to stop the bleeding this time.
Then the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Boy, what agony that was! It was like a cement-torpedo! Took ages, moved at its own painful slow rate. And I feared the bowl might have cracked or been damaged when the ‘Thud’ was heard as it evacuated my innards. I was amazed to see only a few specks of blood, although, afterwards. I decided to take yet another Senna tablet straight away.
But, this got sidetracked when I felt the blood trickling down the leg. The fungal lesion was flowing again! The medicating was still hurtful, and my spirits sank even further! Surely this run of lamentable, abysmal lousy luck can’t continue for much longer? “Super-Depression Mode Adopted!” Well, I wasn’t too happy about the way things were going! Oy gevalt!
More medicationing and cleansing were done, and I went to make another brew. I took a photo from the unwanted new kitchen window, wit the thick-frames that reduce the light and view. I didn’t think it possible. Several blue-lights were flashing, in the distance, but somehow, I can’t see even one in the photo. Talk about my lousy luck continuing!
I took a Senna and back to the computer. Then finished off the Friday post. Then sent bits to Pinterest. A long session on the TFZer Facebooking. On the WordPress Reader section.
Graphic making on CorelDraw next. Many hours late, I gave up. Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley was at me again.
I got the handwashing done. Not as much as it should have been to do. I threw many items away instead of trying to clean and freshen them up. The new long bamboo socks are going to be fiddly to sort out, drying wise.
Then got the nosh started. Made more difficult with sodding Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley jerking me about. I had a few dodgy moments using the slicing knife on the mini-tomatoes, I shouldn’t have bothered really, they taste so bitter and foul.
I thought about writing to the Co-op, and asking them why they put them on Special Offer at £1.50, but it is obvious, so I didn’t! As their TV advertisement says: “It’s What We Do!” I wonder which pillock got paid for coming up with that inane slogan? If they want another one, that is not so inept, vague and pointless, they can get in touch with me, I’ve got a few ideas they can use! Oh, yes!Back to the nosh, I got carried away again there, sorry. The putrid Tunisian ‘Fairtrade’ tomatoes, pork pie meat, beetroot, and some selected* McCains oven chips.
Oh, and the medications, with another Senna added, to move things along easier! Haha!
*I use this word, as I had to pick out the chips that did not have black-spots, bruises, or fusarium! It took me a while, cause more did have a disease than didn’t! Still, the chosen ones were nice enough. Just how does that McCain slogan go? “Chip Perfection, with fluffiness and crispiness in every chip!”
Blow me, I got sidetracked again!
Anyroad up, it tasted good enough for me. Not counting the lousy, yucky, horrid, gross, fetid, acrid, rancid, bitterly sour, tomatoes from the Co-op. (It’s what they do, you know! Tsk!) And the dithering hassle of examining each chip for blight or black spots before stuffing it in my gob! But don’t think I hold any bitterness toward lying McCains (To deliver our ambitions, McCain Foods Limited (“McCain Foods”) is led by its Global Management Team, with oversight from the McCain Foods board and ultimate governance provided by the board of McCain Foods Group Inc. (The McCain family holding company). Or the Co-op. who supplied me the rancid tomatoes in Sherwood, a shop I was manager of in 1967!
But some of the fodder went down well, eventually. Haha! Taste-Worthiness: 2.5/10. Obviously, it was cold by the time got to checking beforehand and eating every chip, and of the tomatoes, distinctively feculent taste, both ensured an overall low score for flavour!
I got the pots washed, as the ‘Hum’ started to get so loud again, it drowned out the noise of the rain! So, I got the headphone on, the TV going and found some interesting stuff to watch.
I fell asleep during the first set of commercials. Woke up a few hours later, put the DVD on to watch some Rumpole of the Bailey DVD. Fell asleep within minutes, woke up after all three hour-long episodes had finished. At last, I thought this is no good, and remotely turned off everything and went to go to the wet room…
I attempted to rise from the £300, second-hand, c19687. none-working recliner. But I’d still got the headphones on! Humph! They were pulled off, then they hit and knocked off the bottle of spring water from the Ottoman, bounced onto the rickety recliner, and the extension cable came out and dropped between the two chairs! My discontentment level rose to Defcon Two! Hoping that they had not broke, and not looking forward to having to get myself down to find the cable under the chairs, which would no doubt need moving, I got the stick and poddled to the Porcelain Throne! (I believe some pugnacious language may have been silently muttered, en route).
I got settled on the Throne, feeling annoyed with myself, but moderately confident, that having taken three Senna tablets, things would be far less painful for this session.
Amazingly there was little pain at all.Cause nothing moved again! Proof of my negaholism being more than warranted, but guaranteed! Horrible-hateful-habitualnesses-hound, me! I waited so long and yet had a fear of a movement getting stuck part-way again, and needed painful input from me. And more bleeding and a form of agony that takes some matching. So, I chickened out, had a wash, and returned to the recliner.
Then, the headphone and cables retrieval task lay ahead of me. But, my EQ told me to stop moaning and just get on with it, carefully! So, I did. problem. By the time I’d got all three rescued:
I gained some scars on the lower arm from getting it trapped as I pulled out from between the chairs with a cable, then Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed! I dropped it!
I got the picker-upperer and tackled the job from behind the chairs. Complete failure!
I tried from the front, and to my surprise, got one cable and a connector saved!
The others were further away. So I cunningly thought, the wooden walking stick might reach them – and got down again – this had a modicum of success, I retrieved another connector cable, leaving just the one left to get at! Stupidly, I adopted a smug mode!
Then, the agonalistical getting back up off of the floor, left me with a bruise on the shoulder and leg, Arthur Itis, Back-Pain Brenda and Hernia Henry all giving me some hassle. It also took me no end of time to get up.
Next, as got down for the last time, and inserted the longer wooden walking stick Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley shook! Hence I now have a shoulder, the chin and my left wrist having joined Arthur and the others in giving me some more discomfort!
Eventually, after many failed tries, I gave up, deciding to try again tomorrow.
I decided, no matter how late it was and done-in I felt, a mug of tea and a painkiller was in order! I got up, with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick and the Ottoman; it was a painful exercise, but I was feeling a smidge proud of my efforts.
I got in the kitchen, and it dawned on me, that some blood was on my hands. A bit of a mystery at first where it was coming from. After investigating in the mirror, I found two options for this. I’d got blood coming from the nose, and a tiny scratch on the left wrist. So, I could take my choice. Hahaha!
I was not doing too badly really, apart from the pains. Even I had to laugh! Especially when I thought, why did I put myself through all that? The TV and DVD I can live without, I could have bought some new headphones! Mind you, they still had to got out from the protective clutched of the £300, c1968 second-hand recliner, and the £20 second-hand c1959 armchair, with it’s broken stump-legs!
I made the brew, and brought it with me, depositing it on the Ottoman.
I fell asleep without touching the tea.
But with so many aches and pains accrued in my battle with the chairs and headphone pieces had ensured I was woken up so often, I didn’t get to sleep properly for hours.
Every time and there were so many, that I woke up, the ‘Hum’ made sure I was not lonely.