TFZer Family get together!
Friday 18th September 2020
Welsh: Dydd Gwener 18fed Medi 2020
03:25hrs: I reawakened, passed wind (risky that was), listened to the damned noise of The Hum’, I thought I could also hear music, accepted a message from the bladder that I need a wee-wee.
Then realised that I’d had just had… wait for it… Six Hours Sleep!
But the wee-weeing must take priority, so I wobbled the fearsomely-flabby-stomached body from the recliner, caught my balance, and off to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). I took a VSWAO (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over) wee-wee, and the AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) took a while to stop, so I left the bucket in place, I had a feeling it might be needed again soon.
I got the stick and limped into the kitchen with the food tray I’d not cleared away from last night, and got washing the things up. I then took a photograph of the morning view of Winchester Street, I zoomed in, and when I pressed the ‘take’ button, so many things came on at the same time, for a moment, I thought to myself; “Hello, this is it!”. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters died, Shaking Shaun gave me a rattling, and Duodenal Donald stabbed away at me! It was all over in less than a minute, and things went back to how they were? Well, Donald kept on, but far less viciously. Normally, as often happens, the effect on the picture would make me delete any photos as bad as this one, but I’ve shown it, cause the blurred shot, looks a little interestingly ghostly, Haha!
I got the kettle on and then began doing the Health-Checks. Starting with the stick thermometerisationing. The temperature was a smidge down, but not far out, methinks, it has been a lot lower over the last week. Although it was higher on Wednesday and Thursday. I’m waffling again!
The sphygmomanometer readings were better, at last. After a couple or so days of ridiculously high readings, it had dropped to 157, a bit high, but betterer.
The DIA and pulse seemed okay to me.
I took the medications, made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on the computer. The first thing to do was to create a template, which I did. Then got updating the Thursday post. For some reason, at this stage, I remembered that I had to go to the opticians today, to collect the new spectacles and give them £300 in payment, Humph!
I was struggling against the interruptions from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). And needed another wee-wee. This one was so different, as is often the case, from the one before. It was back to a WTOP (Weak-Trickling-Orange-Painful) one.
But this reminded me to update the Bladder and Bowel Control records I’m keeping, as I have been instructed to, to take with me to the St Ann’s Health Centre, when I go for the scans. I finished the Thursday blog updating at last.
Pinterested some snaps, sent off the links via email and went to make another brew, Glengettie Gold this time.
I got some potatoes in the Crock-Pot and set the dial for ‘low’. Added some of the Squid fish sauce/vinegar to the water.
I had a look at the legs, to see if the right one was still pale like last night. They had returned to being the same shade as each other. Another mystery of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, cruel 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 destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ Or maybe not, of course?
Then I went on a Facebook updating mission, hello, another wee-wee, I’ll take the bucket and get it cleaned and sanitised, and get the ablutions done at the same time, methinks. Back in a bit! I hope!
I’m back, and what a busy, fiddly messy time I’ve had; No sooner had I put the camera and stick outside of wet-room, I needed an urgent, fast-developing use for the Porcelain Throne. But it worked out great, my being just a few feet away from the toilet at the time. (Proof that things do work out well for me, sometimes, Hahaha!) The session was just like the last one: Very painful, very quick and massive! Not messy, and only a few specks of blood. The cistern coped with the evacuation with just three flushes, too!
I got on with doing the teggies, which was considerably more hurtful than yesterday, due to my over-keenest and rushing. My own fault!
The shaving, ah, well, not so good. Several small nicks, I must get some razor blades for the good razors. (Maybe today if I can get out to collect the spectacles, I can see what Wilko have on offer) The dropsies shaving totalled about eight, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were not very good, on and off.
The shower, now we’re talking, it went very well indeed. Only one dropsy! One clout against the grab rail, and one short visit from Shaking Shaun. I think SSS was taking a holiday, cause there were as no shudderings at all for the entire showering session!
The drying off and medications brought only two things knocked off of the floor cabinet visit (the olive oil applicator, and the deodorant spray). A few dropsies, though.
As I got on the new slippers with the outdoor soles, I was as pleased as punch, I managed to stick the velcro together on them, with the Jenny supplied short picker-upperer. Smug-Mode-Adopted! Both of the ankles seemed to be a bit more patchy and veiny?
I got the PP’s and trews on, no socks, no shirt yet. And I went to fill in the Bladder and Bowel Control records. Then got the kettle on. I realised as I was pouring the tea, I’d not checked the door for any mail. So, I did.
There was yet another hand-delivered advice letter. Basically, Nottingham City Homes, my landlords, who used Willmott Dixon to upgrade the flats (About three years ago, still not done yet, but we can blame the protected pipistrelle (Pipistrellus pipistrellus) is a small pipistrelle microbat whose very large range extends across most of Europe, North Africa, southwestern Asia) being found at the apartments, then the loathsome, life-destroying Coronvirus, for this; NCH, arranged with Willmott Dixon, who have now arranged for sub-contractors McKean Developments Ltd, for mask-wearing employees, who will keep a safe distance from us, to carry out an inspection of the new (*unwanted) balconies (* some windows have fallen off onto residents, injuring them, (* crumbling concrete falls on you, and the metal-spring window catches have caused a few injuries to the fingers, cuts and bruises), to be inspected, these inspections will be carried out on 21st >22nd September 2020. (* So, two more days we cannot get out for food, to the dentist, Doctors or clinic). *=My comments.
I shall now check to see if I have any appointments on my Google calendar for Monday or Tuesday. Hang on… Nope, only a food delivery and an expected call to come in from the Injury & Falls follow up team.
I took a picture through the balcony, then remembered I’d left the mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, in the kitchen.
So I proceeded to make another one. A full-tasty Glengettie one this time.
I assembled the things for the bus ride to Sherwood to collect the spectacles. And set off on my trip, taking some stuff to drop off at Jenny’s.
I got down without any bother and left the bag on the door-handle, and back to the lift. Where my EQ asked me if I really had to go out, and advised me not to bother? I pressed the call button, and the cafe arrived, the doors opened and closed straight away, and I’d missed the lift? It was a while before it came again, being as it is only one lift we are allowed to use, and when it returned, Eric from the 15th floor was in it, he said something as the doors opened, they shut again and another cock-up, as I’d missed it once more! All in all, it 25 minutes before I got into the cage! Now it was a rush to catch the bus in time!
When I got down to the ground floor, I hastened with wobbling trolley to the bus stop, but it pulled-off as I arrived, that’s happened twice in two days now! Swine!
The trip to and back ended up with me having to walk both ways. When I got home, I made up a photo-ode about the farcical-escapade. Link:
Getting back home, after the exertions of the wickedly Whoopsiedangled wanderings, I found the INR test results had been delivered, from Wednesday. Then I wrote the ode, while I was still feeling the angst, pain and weariness of the marathon walk.
The new varifocals were already slipping down my nose. Which made all the farce, agony and farting about I had to do to get them, even worse! I was stewing and brewing inside, with the innards now prompting Duodenal Donald to kick-in with his elongated stabbing strikes! Humph!
I got the ‘what I thought’ would be delicious smoked pork in the oven. I have to say, it did look good in the oven tray, and I foolishy got hunger pains as I got it on the rack.
Put away the other bits, and went for a wee-wee, a rare variety this time, a JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode!
Had a wash and clean-up, took the medications, and put the other stuff away.
After taking this picture of the lemon wafers, Wilko washing up liquid and laundry freshener, I dropped a [acket of the biscuits, and trod on it! It’s amazing how ageing, loss of balance, dizzies, and stupidity allows one to do things like this. I had a job cleaning up the crumbs that burst out as the packaging split open! Still, it gave me a bit of exercise. Tsk!
I put the mini-sized frankfurters into the fridge, I’m looking forward to trying these out later on.
Then I checked on the pork in the oven, I was cooking the ribs slowly on low heat, but giving it a much longer time, it said to do something like this on the label. No advice on the web about how to cook it. I added some liquid smoke to the meat.
I got the potatoes from the crock-pot on to the plate, washed the slow-cooker, then added some of the Jenny-supplied yellow and red tomatoes, and a pickled egg.
Another wee-wee, this time it was a totally different type from the previous evacuation. A WTWIWI (Weak-Trickling-Was-It Worth-It) style. Washed and sanitised the hands.
Serving up the meal, and the smoked pork looked and smelt wonderful!
Added some grapes and a lemon mousse on the tray. I felt sure this was going to be a tasty effort!
Got it on my knee as I sat in the c1968 recliner and got me feet up, just about to tuck into it, and the landline burst into life flashing!
I gave a big sigh, but the tray on the Otterman, and answered the call. It was the Doctors surgery, asking if I had received the results of the blood test yet from the Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic. I told her it had just been delivered, and she asked me what the dosages were, and next blood test date.
I opened the letter and told her, and she rang off. The INR level as excellent at 3.2, and the next test date was for 30th September. I made a note to remind me to add it to the Google Calendar and got back to the feast that awaited me on the tray…
Everything was tasty and enjoyed – Bar the meat! The one thing I was really looking forward to as well. It was more bone than meat, they had covered it with something to give it a rich tasty look, but that only covered up the masses of fat underneath!
I was deflated, grumpy, and disappointed in the extreme! After such the miserable catastrophe, Whoopsiedangleplop-ridden, crude, bus-missing, painful, embarrassing, and almost crippling and horrible trip to and from Sherwood, and now the disappointment of the £5-plus cut of meat being a disaster tastewise – I was feeling a little down and frustrated! Well, one would be, of course!
I ate all but the pathetic pork on the plate, then I took the tray through to the kitchenette. Wrapped the sickeningly fatty meat joint, and washed the things up.
The evening sky looked like me, all broody, moody. I took a couple of photos of it, and even they came out terrible!
Not one of my better days! Grobbleknackercraps!