Inchcockski – Fri 4 Sept 2020: Our hero Inchy, escapes from isolation! But it cost him dearly! Humph!

TFZer In his Cool-It-Cabin?

Wrath

Hahahaha!

Friday 4th September 2020

Latin: September 4th Veneris MMXX

00:10hrs:  After a reasonable, appreciated four hours of Sweet Morpheus, I stirred into imitation life, in need of a wee-wee. (Nothing out of the ordinary there, then, Hehehe!) 

I struggled a bit to rid myself of the STF (Slow-Trickling-Forever) wee-wee, followed by an even longer spell of frustrating AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling). I had to wait for it to finish before I dared move on. Humph!

I hobbled to the kitchenette, clouting my left ankle with Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, and nearly went over. Luckily, the door frame was handy for support. “Blooming good start, mush!” I said to myself.

Carefully, I got the kettle on, and the sphygmomanometer and stick thermometer from the medicine drawer. Aha, at long last, the low temperature had gone up! To 35.3°c. A lot better this was. But there was no getting too excited until the BP was discovered. That brought me down to earth again. The SYS was up to 167, ever-changing that is. The Dia and Pulse looked okay to me, but I’ll check on the web for what they should be later. Or if I can find where I wrote the numbers down. Tsk!

A had the pleasure of making a brew of Extra Strong Assam tea. I say pleasure because Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning. I still let the brew cool down a bit before indulging. That Sainsbury’s Jersey full-cream milk, expensive, but it tastes so wonderful. Naughty, mind!

I took the morning medications with another good gulp of the ineffective, defeasible, Peptac Antacid medicine because RLR (Rogers Laryngopharyngeal Reflux) was giving me some breathing difficulties this dark, dank, fine morning.

I’ve got the Optician appointment at 09:40hrs this morning, so I must have another early ablution session. I considered going to town afterward to the Poundland shop. Still, to be truthful, I’m a smidge nervous of going out after so long, even walking to the ophthalmologist, never mind catching buses to town. Mmm? I’ll decide when I get out of the examination room.

I pressed on with getting yesterday’s blog updated and finished. It took me five hours! Tsk! I posted it off, emailed the link, Pinterested some snaps, and onto Facebooking. They seem to have mended whatever was stopping me uploading to my albums, os I had two days worth to catch up on. Visited the TFZers and added a couple of graphics, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

The time now to get the ablutions tackled.

ABLUTIONALISATIONING INCIDENT REPORT

 Session overall rating 7/10. Good!

  • No calls to use the Porcelain Throne this time.
  • Had to be a stand-up session due to the early hour.
  • Toothache Terence was not pleased with my hurried teeth-cleaning! Drops of blood from the gums and much pain.
  • Shaving produced a few nicks and cuts; neck, behind the right earhole. A silly one last off, the left index finger, from dropsies of the razor and my swift, but stupid grabbing the Bic quickly as it fell. What a plonker!
  • The rear-end washing and medicationalisationing afterward went so well, I could hardly believe it. No bleeding from the furuncles or haemorrhoids!
  • The medicating itself was almost a pleasure today?
  • As I was ready to do the body spraying and after-shaving lotioning, etc., I observed how Arthur Itis’s patella was still bulging with the cartilage below showing through clearly now.
  • The old ankle-ulcer scar had spread out a bit, but it was still getting fainter. Almost artistic, as it moves up and towards the shin more and more? (Tate Gallery material?)
  • The body was still looking somewhat chalky-white, anaemic and cadaverous. But the Clopidogrel lumps, welts, and papules looked calmer.

The getting into the new PPs was easy as well, by the way, I forgot to mention that.

Off to the kitchen and put some potatoes in the crock-pot, and salted them with some of the sea-salt crystals, and set the low setting, so they could be cooking gently while I was out at the opticians.

It felt really strange putting shoes and socks on for the first time in yonks. Transfering the flat keys and card, bus pass, etc. to the oversized coat, it all seemed wrong, out of sync, somehow?

I’d decided I’d along Chestnut Way, then right, and walk down Winchester Street, to Mansfield Road and Sherwood. And catch a bus back up the hill. Got the collapsable walking stick in the three-wheeler trolly-guide.

I added some carrier bags to the trolley, as I planned to go in Wilko first. Down and out onto Chestnut Walk. Not many people were out and about, it was still early, around 0830hrs I reckon it was.  

I took a photo of Winchester and Winwood Courts. I didn’t notice at first, but the paramedics were on site again, which one, I didn’t know. By gum, we’re dropping like flies lately! Tsk! Despite my sadness in seeing the emergency ambulance, I pressed on casually.

I poddled along at a really steady pace, and took a picture of the obviously garden-designer corner of between Winwood and Winchester Courts, in front of the link passage between the building. No longer in use at the moment, due to Corona-19.

On to the end of the road, and turned right to go down Winchester Street. I was so annoyed to see a car parked right on the kerb. It blocked access for anyone with a disabled scooter, or Trolley-Guide from passing without having to go onto Winchester Street to get by, including me, of course. And I had to go blindly out because the view of any oncoming traffic was blocked!

All the memories of previous times this had happened flooded back to my mind! Pickleglobknobs! Boulderclumps! Brunglebogs! and Grrr!

Then as I stumbled my way beyond this car, there was some who had parked behind, and left no room at all to pedestrians to walk on the pavement! I hobbled down a bit and turned back to take this photo. Unbelievable! Cragknackles!

Then, doing me bestest not to get all rangled, or hot and bothered, I continued down Winchester Street, only to find at the end of the Muggers-Cut-through, so much rubbish! Bottles, condoms, fag-ends and packets, crisp bags, carriers and broken bits of toys, etc. scattered about.

But I also saw some white (weed?) flowers, that were seen in the middle of all the human detritus, crap, and litter. They cheered me up, they were so beautiful, delicate, and clinging to life. I wish I knew their name. ♥ Gorgeous!

*When I got into Sherwood, and onto Mansfield Road, I took a picture of towards, and away from the City Centre. I know I did, I’m sure I did! Details to come a little later in the diary.

I slowly had an amble up the road and ended up in the Wilko store. I did a search for some liquid funnels, but could not find any. However, being a controlled person I am, I did come out with £10.90 worth of unwanted, unneeded items. After getting to the counter, dropping my £20 note, then the bottle of scent crystals hit the floor, and the lady kindly coming round from the till, and packing them for me into the trolley. Fertummelt! Thank you, Madam ♥.

Up the hill a bit to the opticians! We have to ring the bell at the side of the door to gain entry. A good idea, it stops anyone without a mask on getting in! I was let in before I could ring it today.

Although I’d put in the last two hearing aid batteries, and got them in the lug-holes, hearing what people were saying was difficult with the mask on. A bit of guess-work and watch the speaker’s reaction techniqueing had to be adopted. Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehehe! I was seated, and the lady told me to have a rest for a while. Maybe the walk down the hill took more out of me than I thought – then I wondered how she knew with me wearing the mask? Mmm!

The paperwork was brought to me and we went through everything. Then I was moved into the other side of the shop-divider and was seated again. The ladies kept coming to me and saying something, I missed a lot of what was said, but they seem content with me. Then I went into the test room, and a young lady dealt with me in no uncertain fashion, not for her a sense of humour or a chinwag!

But no doubt she was under pressure, and to give her credit, she did a good job. She knew of my cataracts, cloudy vision and floaters already. I told of the changes since the last visit, which were; being diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, then the stroke, saccades, and diabetes. She was not impressed enough to make a joke or comment.

The eye test was done, all via computer and machines now. I had the first of the puffer tests; when I had a bit of bother with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley at the same time, and my right arm shot out, and I knocked over her tray of test lenses! Oh, dear, that didn’t impress the lady either! I’ve had a few Tuts’ thrown at me, but that one was the loudest ever. Oh, dearie me! More eye examining, and a second puffer session.

Then she told me she wanted to put some Mydriacyl, Minims Tropicamide eye drops in both eyes. This would help her to see behind the pupils easier to find any faults and asked me in sort of Herman Goering fashion if that was alright with me if she did the eye drop test. Was I going to say no? No chance! I’d annoyed her with not hearing what she was saying, knocked over her lenses, and couldn’t hold mu head steady enough when she was testing them, I was too scared stiff to even think of saying no!

After I’d agreed, she told me of the possible side effects: Blurred vision, feeling dizzy or faint, this may last several hours after using the eye drops. Do not drive and do not use tools or machines until your vision is clear again, and your reactions are normal. Headache, and feeling sick, but these should soon pass, but if you do not feel well, call the emergency services straight away. Well, that cheered up no-end! Hahaha! She put in the drops and told me to wait for them to work.

I was seated outside of the test room, and another young lady, very patient with me, came and told me I needed new prescriptions, and would I be using the old frames. No, I said. I told her it didn’t matter what the frames looked-like on me, as long as they were cheap and comfortable. She chose tow frames and got the paperwork done. £300 quid! I didn’t question anything, just meekly agreed. (I noticed later, there was +£52, for extras?) She may well have told me about this and I didn’t hear her.

The eyes were stinging, the blurred vision arrived, then the Sturmscharführeress lady got me back in the darkroom, and carried out her examination. ‘Everything is fine, behind the eyes!’ Thank you!

Out and got the paperwork and bill from the other woman. The right eye had got a little worse this time. Which I knew already, the peripheral neuropathy, the nerve problems and the stroke making things deteriorate more rapidly, I wasn’t surprised or worried, it was what I expected. I thanked them and they released me from the shop.

*I poddled to the bus stop up the hill and had a look on the SD card on the camera to see the photo’s I’d taken. A picture I took on the bottom corner of Hall Street, and both of the Mansfield Road photos, were not to be found! How? Why? What?

Had 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 annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of me, now spread so they can get at me when I’m not in the flat? Scary!

The bus arrived, and I maneuvered the trolley onto the vehicle relatively quickly, a faint trace of a Smug-Mode was felt coming on, just as I was swiping my bus pass. Talk about the most inopportune time for it, but Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley burst into life, and the bus pass flew out of my hand, hit the driver, and bounced up and touched the roof of the bus, and fell behind the open door!

But it got even better, I turned to have a try at retrieving the card, and knocked the bag of shopping off of the trolley top! Argh!

A chap behind me, getting on the bus, shot to my assistance, and got the card back for me. (Bent and cracked a little now, hope it still works) Bless his cotton socks!

I felt, what’s the word, erm… muted on the trip back to the flats. The dizziness and cloudiness were starting, from the drops I’d just had, I think. I took the slowest ever walk from the bus-stop to Woodthorpe Court. I wasn’t ill or feeling poorly, I reckon it was with embarrassment.

I got inside and, for some reason, felt a bit betterer in myself? I got the magical disappearing photos camera out and took two shots with it.

Not that I expected them to come out on the card.

I was amazed to see when I got in the flat, to see how early it still was. With all of the farcical events, it felt like had been out for so much longer. 

Then I realised the wristwatch was had stopped working!

I knew some or many things were going to go wrong this morning, but I didn’t realise how severely they would be.

The INR Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic blood test results arrived.  The new INR level was 4.1, a smidge high, but nowt to fret over. I was surprised at the high dosages given for me. But, it is best if, “He who thinks but isn’t sure, no longer capable of logicality, and is uneducated, and probably in a muddle brain-wise, is advised not to waffle-on about the unknown and confusing aspects of life or death!” So, I’ll shut up. Hehehe!

I made brew of Thompsons Punjana, dropped it, cleaned it up. Got a drink of orange juice, and on the computer to update the day’s catastrophic tale of my escape from isolating. I felt a little down!

It took me hours to get this done up to here, and I had to stop, I was feeling proper-tired out now. I’ll get something to eat, it’s already gone my head-down time. Humph!

I got the meal prepared and served up, washed the dishes, etc. and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, and dined. Flavour rating: 7/10.

I took another wee-wee, and got the plate and tray in the sink to soak, and shot back to the chair, in search of sleep.

Zzz!