TFZers, Janet ♥, Harry, Meritt & Inchcock
Wednesday 8th July 2020
Gujarati: બુધવાર 8 મી જુલાઈ 2020
I had little sleep, (effects of the Exonarin) up eight or so times for a wee-wee! Each one a waste of time, SWI (Sprinkly-Weak-Itchy) affair. Eventually, on the last needed while in the recliner, at 03:00hrs, Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding, so off to the wet room and wince-making job of cleaning and medicating. The uncut toenails and trying to walk without too much pain from them and the feet was not an easy task. I came close to having a tumble en route, thanks to Dizzy Dennis. Cragangles!
Still, all bleeding free, cleaned and medicated now. Eowskibungles! Hehehe!
I took a snap of the morning view, using the Aperture Priority option. Not brilliant but it’ll have to do.
I had to nip back to the wet room for yet another SWI (Sprinkly-Weak-Itchy) wee-wee. I got the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) disinfected and left it near the computer, in anticipation of the wee-wees continuing all day. Humph!
The knuckle on the right hand was more lumpy and just as tender today. But it was still keeping a safe social distance from the other fingers. Hehehe!
I tended to the medicationalisationing first.
With my ever-reliable Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, not having any 100mg Enoxaparin-fille hypos, I now have to stick in two by 40mg needles. (They do it on purpose you know, they hate me!)
Still, it will be interesting to see the different shapes of the scars, this time. More Art that the Tate Gallery is missing out on! It’s not as if I want a lot, £100 a photo? Hehehe!
The little yellow Contaminated Waste Box will soon be overfilled. I’ll have to mention this to whichever Dracula Nurse calls to take the extra blood sample, tomorrow. I must remember that tonight it is 2½ Warfarins, and one Enoxaparin injection, and must resist taking any extra Codeines for the toothache, the lady said in last night telephone call. I’ve forgotten why, but am sure she said this.
I got the Health Checks done. The sys is creeping up again.
The earhole body temperature came up as ‘Low’, but I wasn’t quick enough to catch the figure.
I took a snap of the pained old uncut, warped, gnarly, cringeworthy, discommodious, Howard-Hughes-like, tender, itchy, painful pinkies.
The thought of getting them cut and the ulcer bled. The inflamed, hard skin that effectuates fears of a return of the Tinea Pedis. I’m sure that many other residents must be in the same boat. Good luck to us all! Of course, if all these places I need access to being reopened; the hearing clinic, the opticians, the dentist, etc., will have one hell of a waiting list by then. So, I’m not getting my hopes up too much! (Ha! Me? Getting hopes up? It’s not natural!)
Toothache Thomas suddenly got worse for some reason. That cheered me up! And I can’t take any Codienes! Claptickleisations!
Made a start on yesterday’s blog updating. This cost me a lot of time and frustrations. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was in a decent enough mood, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept failing and working. This delayed things and got me in a tizzy.
I barely got the job done in time for the Ablutions to be tackled, so I would be available for the Iceland delivery.
I checked the status of the kitchen first, to make sure I’d not left taps running, lights on, or the stove on, then set off for the wet room. The first one in ‘Auto’, the second in Aperture Priority. Much difference?
The Ablutionisationing went fair enough. A few dropsies. No Shower, too early. A nick or two when shaving, Toothache Thomas raging, when I cleaned the teggies. The worst thing was as I was getting dressed, I lost my balance getting the PPs on, and went over, hitting the Sock-Glide, knocking it off of the shower stool, and continued to the floor, with the damned glide following me down!
No, I apologise, I was wrong about this being the worst bit – getting back up after was the hardest and most painful. Gragnackles! I put some Phorpain on the new bruises that I could reach, made a brew to let go cool before drinking, and got on with the writing of this blog.
The intercom chimed and flashed. It was Iceland’s driver-delivery. The chap arrived and dropped the carriers through the door for me. Well, he put then in the middle of the door runner for me. I had a job holding open the door to move them inside. The bloke looked a little frazzled and mentioned how busy he was. So I thanked him and slipped him a can of G&T.
I took the bags through to the kitchen for sorting out. Knocking the cloth airing over as I misjudged the gap available. (You find this easier and easier to do this when you’ve got Peripheral Neuropathy Tsk!)
I got the fridge food sorted first. Beetroot salad, mushrooms, red onions, skinless sausages, pork & pickle min pies, brown bread thins, new potatoes, and potato salad. Got them into the fridge, just enough room.
Then the freezer products. I’d got some Special Price smoked Haddock fillets, and Fish in batter with salt & vinegar flavouring. But the offer meant me having to buy three if each. I did so in the knowledge that a certain lady would make use of a pack of each. This worked out lovely, I’d just got room for the other frozen stuff to fit in. I phoned the lady to tell her I was coming down with the fodder for her attentions. And anything she wanted to do with them as alright with me. I know the food will be made good use of.
I took them, and what a performance it was getting down as well! With tenants not supposed to use the left Contractor dedicated cage (understandably so), but the right cage was stuck on floor 13 and not moving. Repeatedly the left cage arrived, and I kept pressing a button and getting out, in hopes that the right side cage will be freed. In the end, I had to get in it!
I dropped the bag off and returned to the lifts. The right one still on floor 13! In the end, I had to use the naughty left one again. Horrible guilty feeling!
I got back to the apartment eventually. Haha! I’d also ordered some Peri-Peri salt, I’ve never had it before. As I put the cupboard goods away, I stuck my finger in the pot of salt, to try the taste of it. Blimey, it was hot!
I got back to doing this post. Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and had another wee-wee. Washed the dandies, and got the meal prepped. I got the diced beef in the slow-cooker, adding some gravy granules and veg pot seasoning. Later I added some sliced red onions, garden peas, potatoes and
I searched Amazon for some cheaper Dettol Lavender disinfectant and Zoflora lemon. The one’s I searched for last week were all too expensive.
I found these on the right, all at a much better price than earlier. The Dettol worked out a little below £3 each for 6 of them. The lemon disinfectant, a 5l size was £16, and the Hoisin sauce also at £3 a bottle. So I ordered one of each. They should be arriving on Friday they tell me.
I injected the last of the 100ml ExonaparinsChecked on the progress of the crockpot stew.
The food was almost ready now. A quick wee-wee (surprising, I know, Haha!), then I’ll get the nosh prepped! Went to wash my hands, and when I got back to the kitchen, I spotted this smoke coming from the Basford area.
The smoke looked to be clean and white, so hopefully, it was not a house fire. Fingers crossed!
I turned my attention to getting the fodder sorted out, and the landline rang and flashed. It was a nurse from the Phlebotomy Vampire Crew (Haha!). She told me she would be calling in the morning to take another INR blood test. I thanked her and made a note on the calendar.
Back to the preparing of the meal, to satisfy my phagomania.
This stew came out better than I expected it to. I’ve got another pack of the diced beef to have tomorrow, but I won’t be putting any of the Peri-Peri salt in it.
Tasty, flavoursome and filling. With a couple of little Viennese biscuits and a pot of lemon mousse to follow. Taste-Worthiness- Rating: 8.0/10.
Took the evening medications. And settled to watch a ‘Boon’ DVD. Ah, nostalgia! I turned off the DVD player and TV when I started to nod off and wake again repeatedly.
I think I started to have a dream about my being chased in an underground tunnel. Next thing I remember was the knees hitting the carpet when I dropped onto the floor from the recliner, clouting my poor right-hand little finger on the arm of the chair, right on the swollen knuckle? What-Who-When-Why-How?
I’m so glad there is no CCTV in the flat. Even I had to laugh at my antics to get back up into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, that has seemed to have ejected me? Clambering back like climbing a mountain, with a few slide-backs, and spreading about of the cushion and quilt. The farce took away all the pain that I should have felt but didn’t.
Another mystery of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
As I sat there, calming myself down, I looked at the clock, but could not read it? Aha, where are my spectacles?
I spied them on the carpet a few feet away from where my muscular, highly tuned, healthy, Adonis-like, young, fit, desirable to women, six-foot-plus, power-house of a body, had landed from the fall off of the chair. Hehehe!
Luckily, I had the picker-upperer laying on the next chair and utilised it to retrieve the spectacles. And they were not broken, although a scratch or two on the left lens was annoying me!
More good news, all the noctambulistic diving off of the recliner and the ensuing kerfuffling about, did not disturb my getting back to sleep! Wogigj. Mind you, the knees were giving me a bit of grief.