Saturday 11th April 2020
Sudanese: Sabtu Kaping 11 April 2020
05:20hrs: I finally stirred, after luxuriating in about three hours sleep. Which was tormented by dreams of a disturbing nature, of which I have only impressions, no real detail, other than it took place underground, and ghouls were in there somewhere?
Despite the scarceness of kip, I almost bounded out of the £300, second-hand rickety recliner, within minutes of my waking up? Clutched at the walking stick, and made my way dodderingly to the kitchen…
I got to the kitchen, took the medicines, applied the medications; Saccades-Sandra drops, olive-oiled the ear-holes, tincture of the tooth, creamed the Harold’s haemorrhoid’s, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees, and made a brew, all without the need of a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne! This was not natural?
Booted-up the computer to update the Friday post. And had to create a template for the day first! But it was a marathon job, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun all giving me a bashing. The worst, being Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerve ends, continually working and stopping, making typing almost impossible. I was continually making errors without realising it and having to make corrections. I have no doubt there will be many that I missed, which is disappointing and frustrating.
The knowledge that I will eventually have to stop doing these blogs, as it gets harder and takes me longer every day, and knowing they can do nothing to help, sometimes get me down. But while I can, I will. I love doing them. Trying to add a bit of humour to them, must help me, in a fashion. Hey-ho, moan, groan and whine, over!
Having, many hours later got the job nearly finished, and my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete called. Obviously, the lad hadn’t received the link yet, and he likes to read it early in the day with Jane. We had a natter, and I noticed that Stuttering Stephanie was with me again, getting more frequent lately. Anyway, he and Jane sounded in fair spirits.
They have had their big monthly parcel of food from Nottingham County Council delivered. Marvellous I thought. I quoted something along the lines of, A pool’s and big lottery winner, with a car and an electric bicycle, who live in a mansion, have been left a fortune in someone’s will, get their food hamper delivered. I’m told that because my aorta-valve replacement is not disabling enough, I don’t qualify. The peripheral neuropathy and dying nerve ends, the Stroke, using a stick or trolley-guide to walk, Dizzy Dennis, falling down or into something almost every day. Dropping things several times every day, Shaking Shaun and Shoulder-shuddering-Shirley, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger sticking, Hernia-Henry, being deaf, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying, having Arthur Itis (Rheumatoid arthritis), don’t seem to matter to anyone else but me! It’s a good job I’m used to suffering and pain, innit! Pete did laugh! That cheered up.
I got the link sent off. Went on the WordPress Reader, and got this blog started. It took me 7 hours plus, to get this far. I fear the time is getting close to having to stop, this really gets to me. The very thought of it, brought on my depression, like never before. No point in fighting it. I stopped and went to make a brew and have a look outside, see if any of the dog walkers were out, so I could photograph them. Disappointingly, no one was about. But, I did find some photographs I’d missed off yesterday, of some doggies taking their humans for a walk:
I all but dropped the Nikon camera, coming back in from the window again! Darned good job I had the wrist-loop around my hand! Phew!
The rest will have to be in shorthand I’m afraid. The ailment was taking over, and everything took so long. Sorry. It’s hours past my normal head-down time already.
Posted off the ailment, and started a template for this blog. As I started to create it, the doorbell chimed out.
It was Amazon, with the Nasal spray and Clementine juice.
I opened the spray box and left the heavier juice one in the hallway.
Back to the computer, and all sort of problems developed! The landline rang and flashed. It was Jenny, bless her. Her Sainsbury’s order had arrived, and Frank was on his way down with the items I’d asked to be added for me.
I hurried to put them away. Jenny had kindly written a list for me. That’ll £26 plus £13 I owe her now. The shop had substituted some bits. Mini cheddars, which I’m not too keen on, and last week they did the same, a double size pack as well. I’ve got the pickle flavoured ones arriving tomorrow via Amazon as well. She’s got some lemon yoghourt though. Tomato juice, washing up liquid, cherry-scented? And a tub of salt. Bless her cotton socks!
I tried to get the computer to take the photographs but ended up having to do it in a long-winded fashion, which cost me even more time.
I rang Jane and Pete to get my mobile number, cause I needed it to get back on the photo site. But I was too late, and it timed-out. So now, I don’t know where the heck I stand with it all.
Rang Jenny back, I was gasping a bit and Stuttering Stephanie was on form! I thanked her and told her I was going to go to the bank on Monday to get some money to pay her what I owe her with. She kindly said it was Bank Holiday on Monday, so I can’t get it then! Tsk! We nattered a bit, and we decided I’d go on Wednesday. She generously said she would write a note for me to give the taxi driver on Wednesday, asking him or her to wait while I go ion the bank, and bring me back afterwards.
Then I did some updating on this blog, but not for long. I need rest and sleep badly now.
I stopped and decided to get something for a meal. The easiest will be bacon in the oven, and a tin of tomatoes, I can use the last of the bread up with it.
Not feeling so good now. I hope to be back in the morning, to finish things off. TTFN.
Sunday Morning: 0545hrs: Updating.
I got the meal, I had a can of tomatoes, added some vinegar and hickory to it. The bacon, I cut of some of the fat and did it in the oven. Got it served with the medications. For once a good tasty one. Flavour rating: 7.5/10.
Got the dish in soaking, and had a go at the computer problem again.
I had more bother with the computer. Had to supply a password that was my mobile number, but I couldn’t find what it was! I rang Sister Jane at the Bratton Towers, and she and Pete eventually found it for me. But by the time I got to put it on it had timed-out! So, no progress there. Tsk!
The TV on, but of no interest, however, the need and desire for sleep were being ignored by my body and mind.
The landline burst forth and flashed. Sister Jane, concerned about the computer locking me out. Thought it might be hackers. I told her about the lack of sleep problem, saying how it doesn’t matter now about being woken up, as I can’t get to sleep in the first place. I think she might have been upset a smidge, and rang off, thinking I was moaning about being woken, which didn’t matter at all in fact.
This irked me, and I range her back, but no answer.
Switched to another programme and there was an interesting documentary on an underground city in France, and how the military had used it over the years. I thought my xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete might be interested in it. I rang again and got through this time.
There I was enjoying a great natter and chinwag with Jane, and I thought I heard a beeping noise. This was annoying me, I told Jane, and I went with the mobile in hand to have a look around. I was giving a running commentary as I investigated, but, could not find the source! Then a bleep-bleep, and I lost the connection.
I got back in the rickety recliner, and tried to ring back ‘This number is unavailable’. Huh!
Then I actually fell asleep!
Coronavirus, pavement cyclists, wars and insanity! It’s a funny old world, innit?