Tuesday 21st April 2020
Kinyarwanda: Ku Wa Kabiri 21 Mata 2020
04:25hrs: I woke up, with what I thought was perhaps the most urgent ever need for a wee-wee! I sort of rolled out of the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968 rickety recliner, and fell forwards to the sound of a thud-thud, as the poor old knees hit the deck, and oaths flowed, and panic gripped me! The pain was almost ignored, in my desperate efforts to get to the bucket in time!
It seemed to take an aeon to get to my feet again, and I made a frantic lunge for the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), as I whipped the jammie bottoms down. Ever felt a right fool? I did! Absolutely nothing happened for a couple of minutes! Then slowly but surely, I felt the progress being made through my innard’s tubes, as the pain increased as the liquid neared its escape hatch, Little Inchy. It still took more time, some grimacing, and forceful encouragement to get things started.
I burst forth with several viable verses of Argh, argh, argh! Arghhh! Argh! As the pathetic yet so uncomfortable trickle took a few more minutes, and barely covered the bottom the of the bucket! Mmm? I must have another urine infection. What with Constipated Konrad in charge at the rear end, movements were a problem already, without this as well. Tsk! Wallupfestations, Finglegloberisations, and Dangwangles! and a Humph as well!
The final insult, if that is the right word, Little Inchies fungal lesion started to pour blood! It squirted upwards and went over the nightshirt. However, a soothing few words from EQ; “Don’t fret over this, mate, or what’s coming soon will really get to you!” Actually calmed me down a bit, and by the time I’d limped carefully with wide-apart little steps, to the wet room, things were being accepted without too much annoyance. I went through the cleaning and medicationalisationing with the usual gritted teeth, but not feeling sorry for myself. True! The applying of the Betamethasone corticosteroid cream, was actually less painful than it usually is?
I cleaned up, took off the shirt and changed into new PPs. Hobbling at a steady rate as well, to the kitchen, I found I was singing to myself, mostly Billy Fury and Rick Nelson stuff, as I got the kettle on. (Important things first, you know!) I even felt a smidge proud of my decision to put the teabag pots on the floor, so I could get at least some exercise in. Haha!
I took the medications and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. As I was taking it into the junk-computer room, it was as if someone had poked Duodenal Donald into life, and he was not in a happy mood at all with me. I returned to have a few good swigs of the inept, none-effective Peptac medicine, in a most likely failed attempt to ease the stabbing pains from Donald. I decided to take a Macrodol as well, cause I reckon that Constipation Conrad is still having a go at me, no signs of any Porcelain Throne needs yet, and this is very rare.
I had to stop on the computer to get the ablutions done in case the Nurse arrives early to take the blood sample.
Off to the wet room. A marvellous start, I must say!
I picked up the clock I dropped into the WC yesterday, off of the shower chair. And dropped it again! It’s now in a few more pieces. Well, Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations! With a double Tsk!, thrown in! The teeth cleaning went injury-free. The shaving brought a couple of minor cuts. Dropsies were the carbolic soap. (Well, I am using the carbolic longer than usual, and it’s getting smaller all the time, Hehe!) The razors (3), the Foam spray, and towel were the only other dropsies, so, not too bad.
I did struggle in getting the smaller PPs on and banged the shin, knees and elbow as I flailed about to keep from going over from Dizzy Dennis’s input. But, I’ve had far worse.
Back to the computer, and the landline rang. It was Jenny, bless her, asking how I was, and if I needed anything ordering on her Sainsbury’s order, she’d managed to get through. I asked for a bottle of bleach, not that I am desperate now, but you never know! Bless her ♥!
I decided before starting on the computer, to get some cleaning up done. Smug-Mode Adopted! I made a start by doing the handwashing, not a lot, but needed all the same.
I used the unexpectedly delivered from Morrisons, Comfort fabric conditioner. The bottle indicated it was Intense. Which is possibly why I ordered it, all of six weeks ago!
Gawd, it funked something awful! I can’t believe that anyone would put such a disgusting scent like this in any washing product. Eurgh! I had to get my nose right in the spout to smell anything. Then when I did, I regretted it! Foul! I added some lemon disinfectant in it, but I’ll not give it away, it wouldn’t be fair on anyone to do that and have their clothes stinking of it! No wonder it was on Special Offer!
Then, I moved the moving carpet back to its’ proper position and tried to straighten it.
Then the real challenge. The stumper, the pitfall or bugaboo! The nerve-testing, pain-giving task of cleaning the electric fire surround! I purposely did it now, then if I could not get back up off of the floor again, at least the nurse might be coming shortly and might rescue me, as Nurse Hristina had to do a fortnight ago! I didn’t do a good job of it, but at least it looked better than before.
I sensed that Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding again, so when the washing was done, wrung, and hung, I went into the wet room to have a look at the lesion. No bleeding as such, just a tiny bit of leaking.
But, by gum, the legs were looking particularly welmish, yellowish? The knees anyway. Not surprising really, they have been through it this morning. They can be vagarious in appearance at the best of times. The drop out of the chair onto them, then the ablutionary batterings they took. Tsk! I could be arrested for cruelty to Arthur Itis’s Rheumatoid knees, I think! Hahaha!
The intercom rang and flashed, it was the Phlebotomy nurse. I think her name is Sheila, she’s been before, and a cheery soul and gal. We had a patient natter while she took the blood patiently. She soon had done. Bless her cotton socks! ♥ I handed her the things that had been duplicated with the unexpected Morrison order arriving a day after the Iceland one had. Shortcake, tomatoes and something else, I forget now. But they were all only going to go off if I’d kept onto the, so she did me a favour.
I got on with updating this blog to here, then went on the TFZer Facebooking to catch up. Then on the WordPress Reader section.
Looked at the latest figures for Coronvirus in Nott’s, from the Morringham Post site.
Had cracking Dennis Dizzy spell while I was doing this.
Once again a violent. Unsettling but a very short one. Unnerving.
There is a programme on TV tonight, about the Flu Pandemic of 1918. If I stay awake long enough.
An Email from ‘Zoom’ who are running the video lesson for the Diatbeted course arrived. I couldn’t get anything to work at all. Got in the email, I clicked the link, pressed save file and got this screen up. But didn’t have a down arrow on the above where it told me to click on the icon. Lost now! I do not think I will be able to join them in the morning at 09:30 hours as instructed.
I’ll see how it goes when I try to get on in the morning.
Life is a frustrating bind nowadays!
The session was a repeat of the last one, but shorter in duration, painful.
The pins (legs) had calmed down a lot. Clopidogrel affects had lessened from earlier.
Got a rather special meal. Sweet potato fritters, tomatoes, skewer thingamajigs, and turkey lumps. A wholemeal cob, lemon yoghourt and a can of the Clementine juice.
Flavour: 8/10 for this one.
Did the washing up. Jiggled the handwashing onto the airer. Then went to the wet room to try to pass water (formally know as ‘have a wee-wee’), but only managed a hurtful trickle. Had a wash and brush-up.
Duodenal Donald gave me some stick again.
Back to get the jammies on.
Blimey, the pins were still warped, but signs of the Clopidogrel and vein eruptions had almost vanished!
I should write a book “The Ever-Changing Legs!” Hehehe!
I got settled in the £300 second-hand, rickety recliner. Getting set to watch the 1918 Flu Pandemic documentary.
Got the headphones on and watched the end of the preceding programme.
Unfortunately, I then nodded off. When I woke up a few minutes later, there was no sound coming from the headphones? I checked the cable-plug was in the TV set, yes! Then found as I was fumbling my way back into the recliner, the extension cable plug had fallen apart. Then proceeded to sit down on the flaming headphones, breaking them!
There are times, too many times; when the point in bothering becomes questionable.