Wednesday 8th April 2020
Esperanto: Merkredon 8 Aprilon 2020
03:20hrs: I woke, having had all of three hours actual sleep. The body and mind were not interested in waking, moving, thinking or getting out the uncomfortable, £300 second-hand, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Together for once, the brain and body agreed, and I turned slightly to a more comfortable position, to nod-off in.
As I did so, a deadly wet and warm bottom-blurp ‘Plumf!’ escaped from the rear end! That ended any chance of nodding off again! For it was followed by a movement developing from the innards! How the heck I managed to get to the wet room on time, I don’t know.
It stuttered and stopped half-way again, like yesterday. All I could do was grab the crossword book, grit my teeth at the pain, and wait! Which is what I did! After a while (and a few puzzle clues answered [Oh, yes!]), The evacuation started sharply again. A sort of Shploosh, plop, plop, plop later, it was all over! The blood flowed freely on wiping things. A good wash and medicationing session, finding Inchies Fungal Lesion had bled during my sleeping hours (All three of them!), the most painful of areas to medicate.
I did have a moment when I asked the Lord, why me? But he didn’t answer!
Washed and antisepticated the touch-points, and went to the recliner room, to check if I’d knocked anything over in bumbling rushed attempt to get to the Porcelain Throne in time.
Oh, dearie me! signs of nocturnal nibbling lay all around the chair! Guilt dawned on me. Then went away again! When I realised it was not my fault, I was not in control of my mind while I was sleeping… Then the guilt returned when I recognised that nowadays, I not in control during most of my waking hours either! Hahaha!
I cleaned things up, not properly or with any enthusiasm mind.
I sat down on the computer chair, to reach some missed bits of what was a masticated cheese biscuit, and… I’d sat on an old RAOB medal, the pin bent as it went in my bum, and my spirits sank at so many things going wrong so often! I also noticed a bruise on the arm. Closer inspection, revealed it was not from yesterday’s blood taking, but most likely from the Clopidogrel. It’ll be gone within 24 hours, but a new one will come-up somewhere else. Tsk! I’d like to know how the pin got on the swivel chair in the first place?
I could get depressed, you know! Grubbulisations!
I got on the computer, by the time I should have been finishing off the updating of yesterday’s blog – then made a start on doing it. Humph! But got sidetracked, by the mind coming up with a bit of a funny ode idea, about Coronavirus.
So, got it written and posted off. Then, I got on with the Tuesday blog updating at last. Got it done, and went on the TFZer Facebooking, and forgot all about sending the blog off!
I got the ablutions seen to, just in case anyone from the Diabetes Ingeus, The NCC food parcel sending avoiders, deliveries from Amazon or the Clinic called or phoned me. What a mess! I cut the gums cleaning the teeth. Had four cuts shaving. Dropped the razors (several times), the carbolic soap (three times), shower head (twice), and the towel (twice)! I cleaned up and medicated areas in need.
Then on the way out, I knocked the standu[ clothes airer over with the togs on it! Stood it back up, bent down to retrieve the clothes, and clouted my head on the corner of the wet room door!
The Lord was still not listening to me! The heuristics and problems of life, have become too much for me to cope with nowadays!
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
I got back to the computer, and Sister Jane rang me, mentioning the funny ode, adding that the diary had not been received yet! The line was difficult to hear again, kept fading in and out. I foolishly, well, unthinkingly, replied that I had posted it to her and Pete. The urgent need for a wee-wee developed while we were nattering, and I shot off to the wet room.
The wee-wee started encouragingly with a gentle trickle, and despite my best efforts and a lot of time, it got no further. Which puzzled my already tormented brain! This is when I realised that I had not sent off the Inchcock Today! Washed and disinfected, and back to the computer to send off the link. Pete had sent an email informing me he had not received it! Klutz! I replied with an embarrassing, but funny answer.
An Amazon order arrived, it was the single servings of long-life milk. They should have a long expiry date on them. I was going to check them but forgot all about it. Twit! I struggled with the box and the walking stick, it took me a long time, but I did get them to the kitchen in the end. I stored them under the draining board.
I made a start on this blog. But it was interrupted, many times.
The first one was the mobile-phone ringing. It was a lady from Ingeus. The line was almost useless, her voice kept fading in and out all through the long, convoluted unwanted conversation and question and answer time. I had to repeatedly ask her to say again if you please. It’s hit and miss if I got the messages properly. Checking the usual names, dates, contact number, Doctors, NHS number etc.. It was doi,ng my concentration no good at all. However, I think since they cancelled all of the Diabetes courses due to the virus, some money-manager has decided to run an online course, so they can get money out of the NHS for doing it. It is to start on Thursday 23rd April, at 10@00am, and I am to log on fifteen minutes early. The lady will send links and details to me via email. There was possibly more I should have digested, well, I know there was, but I think she took me asking her to say again, as an answer to some of the question, because she said ‘Okay’ or ‘Good’, and moved on to the next query. She was on that long, the battery ran out on the phone!
I put it on charge as the door chimes rang out! It was laptop dancer and Warden Hauptsturmfhreress Deana. She was handing out Easter Eggs from Nottingham City Homes. We had a distanced natter, and Josie appeared at her door. She did not look very well, and she shot back in while I was talking to her. Oh, dear! Poor gal.
Back to the computer. Minutes later, the intercom flashed and sounded. It was another delivery from Amazon. Of 24 cans of clementine juice! I thought I’d ordered tomato juice? But still, they will do me fine, I like citrus juices.
Getting this box in, was more of a test of my limited resources, with it being so heavy. But we got there.
Then I realised how late it was. Well beyond my usual head-down time. My breathing began to come a little laboured. But I wanted to stay awake, in case any of the NCC Assistance volunteers arrived. Four times now I’ve been told someone will contact me the next day. Still, waiting. If I knew their number, I ring them to tell ’em not to bother, after thanking them of course. Then, I may get some sleep? Oh, I’m getting bitter!
Updated this post some, and then thought I’d better get some nosh sorted out. Chips, bread & butter, last of the mushroom pattie, tomatoes, beetroot… yes that sounds good to me. And a lemon Vienna cake or two (they are only tiny, honest!) for afters, being as I am struggling to find any yoghourts or mousse available.
Only three hours sleep last night, and here I am, finding myself trying to stay awake in case the promised four-times visitor calls or arrives. My health is at risk here.
As as I was prepping the meal, well supper by now, Dusty Springfields tune to ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ came from the door. I opened it, to see nobody out there. No parcels left on the hallway floor? I nipped out to the lift lobby for a gander, no lifts were moving, and I spotted the new sign; ‘Only one person at a time to be in the lift’. Fair enough with me!
I opened a packet of the Iceland Pork & Leef sausages to give them a try, but I remembered I had some of the Surami fish stick still in the fridge, with a short use-by date on them, so returned the sausages back to the freezer.
The cough was getting niggly and the breathing no easier. So I took the evening medications with an extra pain killer (the toothache was coming open the more tired I got) and had a gargle of TCP. Which, on reflection, was not a good idea to do just before eating anything! But I was so tired out and drained mentally, the old grey-cells were wandering a bit.
I opted for, tomato sarnies, sweet potato fries, beetroot, Surimi sticks and seaweed snacks, with caramelised onion chutney, for the main course. And two teeny-weeny lemon meringue cakes, and a can of the clementine juice for afters.
I noticed that the use-by date was only 20th April 2020! I wondered why they were so cheap! Haha!
I’m afraid that the mess of a meal had many disappointing facets to it: The sweet potato fries, McCains brand as well, were horribly mushy and tasted only of sugar! I ate only a few of them. The Iceland wholemeal bread had already gone hard-crusted and dry! I broke off the crusts and ate two of the three – the crumbs were scattered all over me, the chair and the carpet! Tsk! The beetroots were tasteless! I left half of them.
On the plus side, the Surimi, seaweed crispies, and pickle were all great! The lemon Vienesse cakes were mouth-wateringly acceptable! Perhaps the best came after I took the tray to the kitchen and cleaned up the bread-crumbs, was the Italiano Clementine drink. It was not sweet at all, but tangy and bitter-tasting, and that suited me.
A shame that I bought the last box from Amazon. Overall, the drink, Surimi and cakes, kept this nosh to a reasonable rating of 6/10.
I washed and changed into the night attire, feet up on the swivel chair – this was because the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, grotty-gungy-beige coloured, c1968, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, was not working.
It was damaged by my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, he damaged it, 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. The Peripheral neuralgia right leg, looked like the old ankle ulcer might be trying to come back again? I don’t think you can see it in this photo, but I knew it was there, the itching gave it away. Hahaha!
Oh, I meant peripheral neuropathy, not neuralgia, sorry. I don’t think there is anything called that. Or how or why I keep calling it wrongly? I should imagine all the other ailments, mental and physical, have ganged up, to have another laugh at me. Hehehe!
However, after getting settled, I ate some yoghourt covered cashew nuts, and tried to let my fatigue win, and get some sleep. Amazingly I drifted of within what seemed like a couple of minutes.
I woke a further few minutes later, with a jump! I cannot work out how, but in those few minutes, I’d had a marathon of a dream. Being chased through burning bombed flats, down the stairs from whatever floor I was on, being shot at and things thrown at me by my pursuers dying… No stick needed in this nightmare, I was running like the clappers, I had hair, that was on fire, and clocking in a timekeeping card in a reader, on each floor! But I don’t think I ever got down to the ground floor, at least, I can’t remember. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a nightmare like that. It proved the brain wasn’t completely dead. Hahaha!