Saturday 29th August 2020

Sethoso: Moqebelo Oa la 29 Phato 2020

03:30hrs: I came to my limited warped senses, with only one aim, that was to get to the Porcelain Throne, pronto! I extracted my wobbly, overly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey. Then I proceeded to do a slow-motion imitation of a John Cleese walk, desperate to hold back any anticipated escapages en route to the wet-room! I thought I’d succeeded!

I whipped down the PPs and got settled down sharpishly on the raised seat, There followed one of the most horrendous evacuations I’ve ever had. Sadly! 

The painful motion began of its own accord, the grindingly slow, pleonastic event went on and on… Argh! After what felt like an hour or so, (but was only a few minutes), the final push I had to make to encourage things along, was agony, but necessary. A few seconds to recover, and I stood up gingerly and found that much blood had flowed, in amongst the pebble-like evacuated product. And paradoxically, during the mass evacuation, I took no less than three wee-wees! But worse of all, some of the pebbles were on the floor around where I stood! So all my best efforts to avoid this happening came to nothing!

A good clean up, medicationing, and antisepticalisationing took place. During which, I caught Metal Mickey with my foot, and he came down straight onto my left foot toes!  I was worried about the noise the calamity had made, hope it didn’t bother anyone!

  Of course, I wasn’t bothered at all. I took it nonchalantly and in my stride. Pain means nothing to me, Ahem! However, the embarrassment flowed thickly!

I hobbled to the kitchenette, and needed another wee-wee! I can’t keep mention this,  but it kept on all morning, every wee was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) type, and, peculiarly, with no pre or after Micturition dribbling. Not a good start to the day, but my EQ insisted things will improve, that’ll do me if he’s right!

I took a snap of the morning view, then got the kettle on the boil, and retrieved the BP sphygmomanometer from the third-down medical drawer.

The Sys is still a bit high, and the pulse rate was up – this is possibly due to the nightmare evacuation farce on the Throne, and all the upset of the proceedings, methinks?

Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and took the medications. Then off to Computer Cameron, and made up a template. Then updated the Friday Inchcock, which, after the horrendous start to the day, went almost smoothly. Oh, Yes! The ailments were all, apart from Toothache Terence and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, being kind to me! A long job, but I completed it in record time. Smug-Mode-Utilised! 

As I got up to go for yet another SSP wee-wee. Coming back, I spotted the card posted Thursday, had dropped between the chairs. I got the long picker-upperer and retrieved, and opened it. It was from Warden Deana, bless her.

I got the blog sent off to WordPress, Pinterested some photos from it, and made a start on this post.

After an hour or two, and many wee-wees, I went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjabi. I got some new potatoes in the crockpot, to marinate, with sea salt, and some fish vinegar for a while, I’ll put the hear on later.

Took the tea, and returned to Computer Cameron, but not for long, Toothache Terence was starting his searing with pain again, so back to the kitchen for an extra Codeine.

I visited Facebook and read and posted some stuff. Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Time’s flown, I’d better get the ablutions done. Back in a bit…

I’m back! Not as easy a session as yesterday, but that was a miraculously damage-fee special one-off session. Back to a closer to the norm performance today. Hehehe!

  ABLUTIONALISATIONING SESSION REPORT 

–– etc. And then ––! Tsk!

• On arriving in the wet room, the need for another Porcelain Session came. And a painful one it was! But far easier than the first one all the same.
  
• Oh, dearie me! The cistern was not coping with removing the waste product! I had the lid off and kept flushing and refilling via a jug from the sink. I poked in the inlet pipe, and found it part-blocked with the toilet block seals? I gave up after that, I’ll have another go later on. Gragnangles! 
  
• Too early to use the shower, too noisy. So I cleaned and medicated my lower regions, but gave up trying to stop Harold’s Haemorrhoids from bleeding, I’ll try after having the stand-up wash. When I can concentrate easier. Flagtoggles!
  
• Pickleglobknobs! The teeth cleaning was a nightmare, well, morningmare, bleeding gums, agony from the toothache, and four dropsies of the paste and brush!
  
• The one job, shaving, did frit me a tad. Yet it went so well, only twp dropsies of the razors, and one of the foam spray. And, only one tiny cut above ear-hole. It always amazes me, why does my hair grow around and in the earholes, but nowhere else? Just a thought. Confusionableitis!
  
• Cleaning around the rear end caused a few stings from the furuncles and piles. Ohh-oh-ho!
  
• The dreaded medicationalising, was as to be expected, hurtful! Hahaha!
  
• When it came to putting on the fresh PP’s, I lost my balance a smidge, I didn’t go over though. Instead, I put my hand out on the floor cabinet to stop myself toppling. Thus clearing just about everything you can see in this photograph! Grobbleknangles!
• Note the screws up Haemorrhoidcream tub? When picking things up, I dropped that one three times! On the third effort, it bounced off of the raised seat, on to the wall, and rebounded landing behind the pipework! Grigglebogsblowit! Took me a lot of effort to reach it with the short picker-upperer (Donated to me by Jenny, Bless her ♥), and I had to knock the cartilage damaged finger getting it!
• Then I had a bash at freeing the waste product. More flushes, and prodding in the hole. It’s still not all gone, but I’d had lost heart and felt atrabilious. I left it, to try yet again later on.
  

The feet and legs, as with the rest of the body, was really anæmic looking. Ghostly, infirm, peaky! A few new blotches. Silver-Lining-Search-Result: However, the ankle ulcer continues to slowly fade away.

I got some trousers and my slippers on, and off to the kitchen. The morning was breaking, at last.

I got the kettle on for a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

Set the heat on the crockpot, and put some mushrooms in the saucepan, with some sea salt and balsamic vinegar.

Ah, Herbert’s at his model making again, I reckon. No drilling and hammering this time, just the odd tap-knock and clunk. No problem at the moment.

I had a look at the many emails awaiting my attention. Busy looking time coming up for next week.

The wee-weeing is still coming at a steady rate of knots, about eleven or more so far, I reckon.

I had a perusal of the Nottingham Local E-magazine. To find some of the latest Coronavirus figures available. It took a while, but I managed to get these articles found, that does not look too good.

The cunning way in which they have changed the central figure from total to just new cases make it look far less to worry about.

Yesterday’s figure: Four new infections were recorded in Nottingham – bringing its total up to 1,337. Across the wider county, there have now been 3,366 positive tests confirmed since the start of the pandemic. This is an increase of 10 since yesterday, with Broxtowe recording the highest number of new cases (three) in the last 24 hours. However, there were no new cases reported in either Mansfield or Ashfield, while Bassetlaw, Gedling, and Rushcliffe all recorded two new cases.

I had a look at the leeks, mushrooms, and new potatoes cooking progress. Coming along nicely. Then I went on to create a funny ode on WordPress. Well, that was the plan… but the Prescriptions arrived, Deepak himself delivered them, bless his cotton socks. I thanked him and gave him a bag of goodies for the staff.

I turned off the computer and placed the medicinal items in the kitchen, and got on with making the meal. Another goodish effort and I gave it 7/10 for a Flavour-Rating.

Consumed it with relish, and got the pots washed. The fatigue and weariness dawned on me as I sat down, but would Sweet Morpheus arrive? No!

Put the TV on, in the hopes, this might help. But, no! The danged Thought-Storms began! Confusion, aporias, and incongruities flourished! They produced a sort of habrobaniacal state of mind! Claptickleisations!