Saturday 22nd February 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sadwrn 22ain Chwefror 2020

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.

Life can be so cruel at times. But, Hey-ho!