Friday 6th March 2020

Telugu: శుక్రవారం 6 మార్చి 2020

01:30hrs: I woke worryingly wanting a wee-wee. Wrestled myself free of the £300 second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not-working, recliner. Got the walking stick, no time to get my balance correctly this morning, so urgent was the needs of the bladder! I made for the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). And got a bit of a shock when the release began flowing; First, the colour was virtually transparent, these came like this for hours afterwards, likely on average about four an hour!

To the kitchen, via various obstacles in my path. Yes, I think I must have been doing some nocturnal-wanderings? DVD’s had fallen or been taken off of the case, and were scattered around on the floor. The Ottoman had had many items knocked off of it; Bottle of spring water, olive-oil bottle, a tube of Germolene cream and a suspicious empty Marmite Crisps bag. The airer was partly tipped over, leaning against the recliner back.

Had I also been on a Nocturnal-nibbling rampage? I know that the night before last, I didn’t have a meal at all, and yesterevening, with the TV problems and my allowing the food to go cold, I didn’t eat much, but surely I wouldn’t nibble crisps? Not in my new determined-to-lose-weight and some stomach-flab mode? As I got the picker-upper to retrieve the items, I feared what I might find in the kitchen. Tentatively, I hobbled into the kitchen and had a look around. All seemed the same as I left it? No signs of raided fridge or cupboards, crumbs or food preparationings. Phew! 

I got the kettle on, took the medications and found that I had not taken last nights! Grrr! Idiot! So I took them and left the morning ones until later. Made a brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, and another wee-wee. (Let’s take it that I kept on with SSP wee-wees for the nest four, no six hours!) All this use of Little Inchie had caused me to fear that the Fungal Lesion might start bleeding, but no! Great!

I got the computer on, Hogwashniggles, harrumph and Globdogerisations! Instant hatred for Mr (Tosspot) Fries, and stabbing pains from Duodenal Donald!

I checked on Google to see if any problems, or rather, what the problems were!

The lying swine at Liberty-Global said on the site in reply to the many pissed-off Nottinghamian customers, My additions in deep red:

 

Then I went on Virgin’s web-site Service Problems site and got the above message. Please note, how can we idiot customers expect a half-decent service, from a company that employs people who cannot event spell Virgin correctly (First word of message = Virin!) Liberty-Global, who own it, are an incompetent, uncaring, pecuniary-mad, lying company.

By gum, I feel better for that!

I tried the resetting, then turned everything off the on again. Sender turned off, on, and rebooted again. Eventually, I got a connection of sorts, very unsteady. It still kept on going down repeatedly for hours, for periods of a few seconds to five-minutes, Eurgh!

This caused, what ought to have been at maximum, a couple of hours work to get the blog updated, to turn into a marathon of six-hours! Thank you, Mr Steven (I couldn’t give a toss – I get paid millions of dollars salary) Fries. 

The internet got to stop going off-line. No, honestly! It was still slow, mind!

I put some pictures on Pinterest. Made a brew of Glenghettie, wee-wee’d, and went on the TFZer Facebooking. Then updating the post. Started this one going.

Time to get the ablutionalisationing done. Worra session it was! Can’t grasp it yet how it went. Dropsies, so few. One cut shaving. No shelve clearing, toe-stubbing or knocks. Even the sock-glide battle was a victory! And, as for the pins (legs), apart from the hairs suddenly going invisible, they looked like any ordinary person’s pins, they even had more colour this morning!

Got ready for going out to get the fresh vegetables from Sainsbury’s. Dropped off some no-longer-needed sugary-foods at the ILC’s office, only the one of the three in today, I found out later.

Coming out of the office, Dizzy Dennis dawned. Can’t remember a sausage until I was on the bus going to Arnold, with the crossword book in my hand. And two bus stops away from the store! Put away the book, alighted thanking the driver, and into the shop’s car park through to the entrance. The sunshine had actually got a little warmth in it!

I was fully with-it, well, my faculties were returning. No aches or pains apart from the usual Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley (A bit embarrassing and funny-looks-attracting from customers and staff members in the store, Humph!), Arthur Itis, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure, and Duodenal Donald. I was free of the attentions of Reflux Roger, Anne Gyna, Hernia Harry, Saccades Sandra, Stuttering Stephany, Flatulent Frank, Harold Haemorrhoids, and Kidney-Pain Kevin. I went the entire day, without a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, as well!

Things were going well as I entered the store. (Apart from there being no hand-baskets available) I went to the checkouts to get a shopping basket, but no problem really, I was so pleased that I could get about so much easier today, took my time though.

I struggled with the high shelves in the green-fruit department, getting the chestnut mushrooms. The shelves on the tinned and dry goods shelves are much worse, but I didn’t need any of them this time, I was on a fresh-food mission.

I got some vegetables. Tomatoes, Vittoria and black Ladecia ones. The chestnut mushrooms. Two tiny turnips. Some small parsnips for baking. Seafood sticks, Surimi Royal. A packet of Mushroom pate, Milk Roll loaf, and Turkey BBQ chunks. Down to the other end of the shop[, where I got a bottle of washing-up liquid, then to the freezers for a packet of sweet potato fries. Paid at the self-serve tills. Much to the frustration of the poor souls waiting behind me, as I was suffered a Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure moments, thus many things were dropped, and it was a struggle to get down and up to retrieve them. I did turn and apologise to the people.

Out to the bus stop. Stopping at a bench, to make sure that I had got everything with me from the tills, and go through the till receipt, I pressed the option to get. All looked fine, and with so little fooder, I only needed the one shopping bag. So I transferred the heavy stuff to the basket top, with the lighter fodder in the carrier on the handlebars.

As I checked the timing board sign, I got a feeling that told me I was in for another spell of ‘Out-of-it-ness’. I cannot explain how this sense works or comes from, but it might have been the EQ?

Shaking -Shoulder-Shirley kicked off again as I got to the shelter. So I stood behind at the back of the bus stop, as there were a few folks in there waiting, and I didn’t want to disturb them with Shirley’s antics or feel and look like someone with St Vitus (Sydenham’s chorea).

Ten-minutes or so later, Nicodemuses neurotransmitters started working again. At the same time, I felt my concentration going adrift. As the others caught various buses and the shelter empties, I moved in to await the L9’s arrival.

I got settled in the corner on a side-saddle seat. The vagueness of the recollections of the journey now annoyed me. I’m sure I had a chinwag with someone on the bus en route. The next thing I remember correctly was getting off at Winwood Heights, with someone from the bus walking ahead of me at speed into the distance. From here on, things remained more or less rememberable. I did mention this problem to the Doctor, but can’t recall what she said about it?

I walked through to Winwood to Woodthorpe Court, and up to the apartment. Feeling oddly enough, in fine form.

Things were put away in the fridge, the sweet potato chips in the freezer. And I set about doing the meal, the healthier meal (I hoped).

I got down in the £30 second-hand, rickety, non-working recliner with the tray of fodder.

Globderations! The mobile phone burst into life. I struggled out of the recliner, clouting my ankle on the computer chair leg on the way to get to the telephone that was in the corner charging-up. It was a recorded message that I could not hear a word of. When it ended, I tried to find a way of finding out who it came from, but could not. Was it the Ingeus people about the diabetes course? Had they got me an appointment?

02.40hrs: My only option now was to get dressed and go down to the ILC wardens office and ask for help with the phone and beg one of them to call back if it was Ingeus. I fumbled about getting the day clothes and shoes back on. So I dressed and got the walker-guide and limped down through the link passage to the Warden’s Office in Winwood Court. But it was locked up. (Why do these things always happen to me when there is no help available? Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!) Disappointed, with my spirits lowered, I moped my way back to the flat, with the odious and challenging task of my having to phone Ingeus to find out if it was them or not.

Back to the flat, and reluctantly knocked on Malcolm’s door to see if he knew how I could get the caller who made the recorded call I could not hear earlier. (I hate bothering people) Nope, so back in the flat. Sorry for intruding asking for help, Malcolm, I’ll not do it again!

I got the paperwork for the diabetes place and had to ring their Birmingham number. (At what cost I don’t know?) I got the auto-option choices that I could not decipher at all, so like last week, I pressed ‘One.’ Got some canned music for a bit, then a lady answered. I could only make out 50% of what she was saying. Again, like the bloke last week, she left me waiting while she looked up my details after confirming the name. DOB, address, etc. She returned, and I had to ask her to speak slower, please, but it didn’t really help. She gave the same spiel as the bloke lat time.

Last week’s offer of a Top Valley venue that I explained last time was too far and time-consuming for me. Then told her of my mobility and health problems (All repeated as the previous week). She departed again for a minute or two. Returned with an offer of at Rise Park Community Centre for the course. I explained again, this would involve four bus trips for me, just like Top Valley, but even further away. She said, if it is not suitable, all we can do is return your doctors referral. Agion, I was told to ring back in a week’s time! I think it best if I just don’t bother. I’ll use the internet (If it works) and find out for myself what needs doing and actions need taking. The unhelpful, non-information-digesting, Ingeus can take a hike! I’ll not ring them again; it’s cost me enough in phoning Birmingham four times already, getting negative responses, lack of sympathy and understanding, pachydermatous advice, and robots. Along with veiled threats when they cannot find a solution! (All we can do is return your Doctors Referral) Spitworthy!

The meal ended up, yet again in the bin! I tried to eat a bit of the dinner, but I was not in a mood for eating at all after the Ingeus farce! I had an unhealthy bag of Marmite crisps and dished what was left of the meal.

I’m well pee’d-off now! Once again, sleep took its time coming.