Cool TFZers, at the Cool-It-Cabin

Wednesday 19th August 2020

Bulgarian: Сряда, 19 август 2020 г.

03:10hrs: I woke in a bit of a panic today. The need for a wee-wee has never been more urgent! Hehehe! Somehow I managed to get my flabby, obese-bellied, and skinny limbed body, free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy, yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. Got Metal Mickey (four-pronged walking stick), and waddled off to the wet room. Noticed some signs of nocturnal nibbling en route!

 Disappointingly, I cracked the right shoulder against the door frame. Somewhat off-putting, as I had been doing so well in the distance-reading the last two days. Ah, well! The wee-wee was of the JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode, which caught me out a bit. Haha! Cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. Got the kettle on and had to make back for the wet room smartly, as the sudden bubbling, brewing, and rumbling from the innards kicked off.

 Oh, dear, what a session. Pure pain, lots of blood, but at least it wasn’t messy. Had a go at the crossword-book while waiting for the movement to restart itself, it stopped part-way again! The cistern did not clear the evacuated product and needed assistance from a few jugs of water manually deposited in the Porcelain Throne, and four, I say, four, flushes, and still there were bits of TP not cleared! It’s a challenge these days, going to the toilet! 

Back to the cold tea in the kitchen. (Tsk!) And I got the Health Checks done. The BP figures were reet-grand. The thermometer started working again (it beat me why, too?). A result of 62.4°f, that’s about right as well! Took the medications.

Did some thought-graphics, and made a template up. Then got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, and most pleasingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was only giving me short bursts this morning. And with the absence of Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun as well, I got the updating done in good time. Got it posted off to WordPress, emailed the link, and answered a comment on WP.

I celebrated with another mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took this picture on the right, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

With the beautiful, nae, voluptuous vampire nurse due, and a possible delivery from Amazon (sleeves of long-life milk – I live well!), I’d better get the ablutions tackled early. Knowing my luck, because I’ve remembered to do this, they will all come late, I suppose. (My confidence, élan, positivism, and decisiveness are at an all-time low, you know! Hey-Ho!) Back in a bit…

I’m back now. And can report a much betterer session today! No shower, too early in the day for that with the noise it makes.

The feet were looking almost normal when I started and signs of bruising from the toe-stubbing. The teeth were cleaned without any hassle or bother.

 The shaving was the problem area, and at the same time, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked in! The result was two neck cuts, a chin nick, and a hard to stop bleeding nip behind the ear hole. I can’t understand why hairs grow behind the ear-holes so much, and none on the head!

The medicationalisationing went even smoother. Mind you, Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding.

I got the unshakeable, ineffaceable feeling that today was going to be full of such strangenesses. Aye, the mysterious wonders 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 mission; To scare the bejesus out of, annoy, unnerve,  and put the wind up the old energumenist, Inchcock. Yes, they were on their way! My EQ is rarely wrong.

Having completed the ablutions, medicationalisationings and got some clothes on, I got the waste bags made up and onto the trolley with a white bag of recyclables. Then set-off to the waste room in the lift lobby. Got the small bags down to the caretaker’s big bin.

I had a little natter with Robert, and then made my way back to the Woodthorpe Court lobby entrance, taking this rather natty Well, I like it) photograph before entering the building.

I poddled through to the lift lobby and waited for the elevator to arrive. Again, not any folks around whatsoever to have a natter with. Shame that! The resident’s lift came straight away. Into the cage, I popped and pressed the 12th-floor’s button.

Regretfully, then Peripheral Pete launched one of his involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler right leg dance routines, and I fell forward over the trolley-guide. I caught the Alarm button as I put my hand out to stop going all the way down.

The button flashed, and I thought, “I’m in trouble now!” But, nothing happened, no sounding bells or klaxons, nothing happened. Which was lucky for me, I thought! The Schuplatter dance lasted only a few seconds, and apart from the Osteoarthritis in the little finger, or whatever it is, no injuries. * This reminded me, the Doctor in the stroke ward, said she’d arrange a visit for me with a rheumatologist. Still, with the flipping Coronavirus bother, it’ll have to wait, I suppose.

Come think of it, I might be confused over this, it could have been a Cardiologist, Nephrologist, Geriatric Phycologist, Vascular Phycologist, or even a Psychological Neurologist? Hahaha! 

 I got out of the elevator and got into the flat. As I was putting the three-wheeler in the corner of the mini-hallway – I got such a shock! The fire alarm in the flat, burst into life! Klaxon blaring, red light flashing – Oh, heck! My head was about three feet away from the blaring Klaxon!

No panicking, though. Well, maybe a tiny bit! Humph! I checked each room and cupboard, no signs of any fire. I then rang Deana to let her know, Deana said the alarm had not activated on her panel? Comforting to know that!

Deana arrived at the flat. The gal was very relaxed and calm about things, which was more than I was, I had a sense that I had done something wrong, yet I knew that I hadn’t. Shortly, there were three fire-tenders on site!

Deana went out to greet the emergency services. A fireman appeared with Deana. The fireman wanted to know what precisely I had been doing. So I told him; I’d got back in the flat from taking the waste down to the rubbish bin, put the walker in the corner, and the fire alarm activated. He suggested I have a visit from the team to offer support on avoiding fires. Fair enough, I said, although I have never had a fire in my life.

He reset the alarm and then poddled off. I got the podded peas into the saucepan, all ready to cook later on. Very lovely, they tasted raw, as well! Not many left for the nosh now, and I found some from yesterday’s podding session. Haha! 

Then, Nurse Hristina arrived. Patiently listened to my tale of woe with the alarm as she took the blood. She was in a rush but remained friendly and kind to me.

I began to update the blog again, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was the Fire Brigade; they will be calling on me tomorrow, around 14:30hrs.

I went back to updating this blog. Then, and guess what?

This crap service from Mr Fries makes me sick! But, I was warned of bother coming today, by my EQ!

I got the oven on and some battered fish cooking. I got the garden pea’s saucepan, on a low heat setting.

Internet back on, but deadly slow, now!

Then the door chimes rang out. I said it was going to be a busy day! Humph! It was milk sleeves arriving. I opened the door, and they were on the door frame outside. I got them opened and put some in the fridge. There was a good shelf life on them!

At last, something had gone right! Hurrah!

The fodder was about cooked, so I turned everything off, it was close to my regular head down-time anyway. I got the nosh served up. A jolly decent flavour-rating of 8/10 fish nosh. I washed the pots and got a bottle of spring water, and in the recliner, sleep searching.

There followed a series of botherations, that encapsulated Sweet Morpheus attempts, ideally;

: A landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! 

: Ten minutes later, a landline call: TheDoctors surgery with the results and new Warafrin INR doses: Tonight 2.5, then 2 nightly until Monday 24th August, the next Blood Test date. Scribbled details on the note pad. I got back in the c1968 recliner, well tired.

: Another landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” I said nothing when I picked up the handset, recorded talking in the background. Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! 

: Half-an-hour or so later, yet another landline call: “I’m from Visa, there has been a £4000 transaction on you… Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! I scribbled down notes on each call on the pad.

The Thought-Storms began, and I was so annoyed at these damned con-calls! The last time when I did some searching, the number was registered in London, a further search on the web, revealed those I had then, were from Nigeria and Albania.

It took me hours to get the mind free enough to almost nod off, and the landline burst forth and flashed again! I ignored it.

No chance of sleep now, I put on the TV and headphones.

– A tired, almost angry, frustrated and bewildered Inchcock, gave up and decided to get on the computer. The very moment I attempted to shuffle my short-plump, overweight podgy body from the £300, second-hand recliner… Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, and Colin Cramps joined in on my legs and feet!

So I acquired some new bruises, crawled back into the rickety recliner, and sort of sulked and felt sorry for myself! But the Thought-Storms, fears, frustrations, and events of this wickedly tormenting day, flowed. 03:00hrs, I got up for a wee-wee, and stayed up!

Sleep? What’s that then?