Thursday 13th February 2020
Greek: Πέμπτη 13 Φεβρουαρίου 2020
00:40hrs: I was dreaming about something or other, not the foggiest what it was: and in the world of fantasy, I realised I had to wake up for a wee-wee. A sort of twilight world for a few seconds, I was dreaming, but aware that it had to stop and I’d have to get up for a wee-wee? Which I did, much to the displeasure of Anne Gyna and in particular, Arthur Itis.
I got my balance, grabbed the stick, and wobbled-limpingly to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I really was caught out with the ferocity of the action! But it was short-lived, and the shaking took ages to clear everything. There might be some bother in this department later on, methinks!
I went to wash the dandies, and move the drying handwashing around.
The brain caught up with the activities, and the needs of the day flowed into the grey-cells. Got to go to the Podiatrist at Sherwood Health Centre, on Elmswood Gardens for a 10:00hrs appointment.
I got the kettle on, and realised I had not taken last nights medications! So, I took them and hoped that I would remember to take this morning’s late on. All confusing innit? Haha!
Then, in an instant, I needed to go to the Porcelain Throne, and only made it to the wet room with seconds to spare! Phew! What a messy affair it was! Lots of cleaning up to do afterwards, Phwert! Having now cleaned my hands twice in a few minutes, the hands looked paler than ever. The pins (legs) had done their daily morphing act again. Oddly, Arthur Itis’s knees looked less warped than of late, but the distortions were spread over a larger area. The difference in size (thickness) of the pins was more noticeable, too. How I feel sorry for ordinary folks. Arthur Itis’s knees were still painful, even if they didn’t look to be.
Normal-kneed persons: They miss the pleasure of diurnal searching for changes. The unpredictable Clopidogrel lumps, blisters, thrombophlebitis. The blood-papsules, weals, scars, bulges, spots, bruises, welts, contusions, blemishes, dapples, maculations, and assorted findings. Not to mention the artistic Deep vein arterial, spider veins and the superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis). The displays of iliac, saphenous, tibial, and popliteal veins can be artistic at times. And usually, the various signs of the last tumble. The ever-changing fluid retention. The change in leg size, one day the left can be more significant, the next morning the right one! As for the colouration, marvellous variations, although usually, they are both on the pale, pallid anaemic side. So, I’m lucky, in this way. Hahaha!
I waffled on a bit there again, sorry.
I got on the computer, and did a graphic, and started on this blog, getting up to here, and it dawned on me; “You #@‡⊗%, Klutz! You’ve not finished yesterdays post off yet!”
So I made a brew, took this morning’s medications, and made a start on the Wednesday updating. (Better late than never?) Got it finished eventually! Went on WordPress reader. Then TFZer Facebooking. By then, it was time to get the ablutions done, I don’t want to be late at the Podiatrist’s appointment. The wet room session went with only three dropsies! No shaving cuts either! A smugness began to creep in as I dried myself off! I casually threw the towel over the stool in the shower and got the medicating and deodorant applied.
I leant across to turn the shower off, and pressed the start button! The towel and dressing gown beneath it, copped on an excellent dousing, as did I! Luckily, I’d only got the new PP’s and my socks on by then. I put the socks and towel on the flat airer to try and dry them off over the day. I dried myself again, on the other sheet, put some other socks on, wiped the shower chair and almost cried!
I’d been doing so well, as well!
I made up some bags for the waste chute and took them out across the lift lobby to the rubbish room. Opposite the flat hallway, the uncleaned, ornamental, decorative, aesthetically pleasing, quaint, but depressingly dull, picturesque windows caught my eye. I don’t know why I said that?
I assumed this on the left, is the new fire alarm on the ceiling, no wires attached yet, but perhaps they are above the new false roof they had been erecting yesterday? It looks like a complicated job they have taken on. And of course, it has to be done on all fifteen floors.
The state of the lobby carpet, we will have to put up with. The task at hand is, by nature, a messy job. So I don’t think there is much point in cleaning anything up yet… is there?
Back to the flat and got things ready for the Podiatrist visit. Set off out, through to Windood Court, and handed nibbles out to the Untersturmfhreress ILC Warden-Guards. I met Christine and an unknown-to-me lady tenant in the link passage. Again they left me in their wake. Gawd, they’re quick! I got to the Winchester Court lobby, and Angela told me that Roy had another fall and was taken into the fall-team at the Hospital. They were there for ages, it was all busy and hustle. He’s home now, but not very well. Poor old Roy, he keeps bouncing back, and long may he do so.
Out to the bus stop, a very quiet gang this morning. Malcolm giving his daily news report to the others. Haha!
A chinwagging session on the way down the hill. I think we all got off in Sherwood. I walked up to the crossing and over the road up the hill to right down to the Sherwood Health Centre, on Elmswood Gardens.
Where I fear I discovered I had made a cock-up with the timing! The receptionist frowned, and asked me what time my appointment was for? I replied full of confidence, “Ten o’clock!” As she perused her listing, it all came back to me! It should have been 08:30hrs! How the hell I got this wrong is beyond even me! The receptionist rang the podiatrist to see if she could fit me in. Then directed me to wait in a hidden corner passage chair until they found out if I could be accommodated, or not!
Humiliation, embarrassment, disgrace, self-hatred, shame, impecuniosity, ignominy and mortification, were a few of the sensations I felt at the time! I wish I asked the Doctor yesterday about how to fight-off senility! Humble-pie replaced what mini-modicum of pride I had left! I stood humbly near the door waiting to be either forgiven, lambasted or refused treatment.
It was most likely only ten minutes or so later, that the podiatrist came to me, (but it seemed so much longer) proffering a look that said out loud; “You Clot!” My pathetic apologies and genuine excuses were listened to with surprising understanding. A warmth came over me, as she told me to follow her, adding, “Don’t Worry!” She may never know how comforting and easing that was to me! ♥ Or maybe she did, and that’s why she said the words, with a smile as well! I think she understands my addlepatedness. ♥ She soon did the feet, in record time I reckon. I gave her a can of Gin & Tonic in thanks.
I thanked the receptionist on the way out, and I decided I had been lucky in the way they had treated my obliviating.
My spirits rose a tad, as made my way to the bus stop, to hibernate away in the flat, and get some blogging and graphics done, or at least try to.
When I arrived at the bus shelter, the rain began to trickle down. I’d hoped some Winwoodonians might be there to catch the L9, as usual. Then I realised I was a little early. Sure enough, they started to arrive. Christine and Welsh William from the Coral bookies, then Penny and Shirley came to join us. A couple of the new Woodthorpe Court tenants were there, no, one of them. She seemed a lively sort of gal. Quick-witted. As I took this snap from the bus stop, I realised that the Booze Shop on the corner of Hall Street had closed down. Another Sherwood shop kicks the bucket. Oh, dear!
Our bus arrived early, and we all climbed on board and were soon back at the flats. I got off last, to avoid catching anyone with my wheels, and Panny and the new gal were shooting off, I tried to catch them, but they were too fast for me. So I shouted out, “Oy! Zola Budds, hang on!” To my utter amazement, they did! But getting between two chatting women is a scary thing! Hahaha! They soon got ahead of me again. But Penny waited and opened the swipe door for me, bless her! ♥ After the other lady got off, Peny spoke to me for the 35 seconds it took to get to my floor. We said our farewells, and I got back to the apartment.
Made a mug of tea, and took the afternoon medications. Then on the computer to sort the photos and update this blog. It took me a few hours, then I tried to get some graphics done. But the weariness befell on me.
I took a blind shot of Chestnut Walk, as I got the nosh prepared. I took me a long time for several reasons:
- The cheesy potatoes I’d decided on, needed so much work to mix and mash!
- The cheesy potatoes were put in the oven to brown off, I checked on them later, and then I decided to turn the oven on!
- Washing up, I dropped the mixing bowl, Humph! Clearing the mess up I’d made took a while!
However, despite my hindrances and faffing about, my meatless meal went down a right treat Why meatless? I forgot to put the pork & pickle pies on the plate. Realising this after I’d got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner and had started eating it. And was just too tired to bother.
The cheesy potatoes, (I thought I’d made to much) was eaten with the rest of the meal, with great delight and much savouring of the great flavour. A Taste Rating in 8.8/10.
I put the emptied-with-pleasure tray on the other chair. And turned on the TV. Adverts were on at the time, as I waited for ‘The Interceptors’ program to start. Zzzz!
I woke with a start, hours later. Sure, that noise had woken me up. I put the hearing aids in and listened. Well, I had to take the dinner things to get washed, and I was not confident whether I’d taken the evening medications or not, so I had to get up anyway, and could have a look around for any signs of what made the noise at the same time. Did you note that? Logicality of thought from Inchcock – and, when he’d just woken up?
I was taking the tray with me, and the four-pronged walking stick to the kitchen. When I got a bit of a wobbled on. Resulting in my giving myself a toe-stubbing against the Ottoman. I grimaced, uttered a few silent, well-chosen oaths, and carried on, almost knocking over the corner stand of bric-a-brac and knick-knackery.
Luckily, my arm only went through the second shelf, knocking over some photographs, and I stopped myself falling onto it by using the corner of the wall, handily placed for me to use! Hahaha!
Thank heavens it didn’t go over! I’d have still been clearing it up now! So, a bit of bad (painful), then good fortune almost at the same time?
I could not find anything that might have caused the sound that woke me up, but it must have been loud to stir me from sleep with no hearing aids in, and the headphones on?
I washed the pots, then took a snap of the evening sky. The sun seemed out a little late?
I returned to 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, with its bits of radicchio in the creases still being found after last weeks Whooopsiedangleplop of my dropping of the salad plate.
Settled again, to try and watch some TV, but the mind-storming began. Eventually ~I nodded-off, and into a dream of mix-up mystifications.