TFZers Gladys in her garden – under the PC’s observation? ♥
Tuesday 29th September 2020
Welsh: Dydd Mawrth 29ain Medi 2020
03:25hrs: I awoke, and pondered about whether Trotsky Thomas will be back again today. After realising that I’d gone for around about four hours head down, without a single summoning to the Porcelain Throne, my hopes were high for a bit of relief. (Which just goes to prove what a fool I am. Hehe!) I lay, not entirely confident of my hopes coming to fruition, and started sneezing, and feeling terribly cold, the odd shiver coming over me. Hello, this doesn’t mode well?
The need for a wee-wee arrived, but it didn’t seem an urgent call. I took my time getting free of the £300, c1968 recliner. Got up, and even did a little bit of pandiculating, then launched into a few mild, imitation, physical jerks, like I was taught at the after-Stroke Physio session, but not a lot! The sneezing made it hard work. Grabbed metal Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick), and utilised the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). It was a good job that it was only a DDD Dribble-Drip-Done) mode, wee-wee, because SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked of while I had Little Inchy out, and this saved me from an Accifauxpa and mess to clean up. Already, a Smug-Mode was developing. I left the bucket where it was, cause I’ve been fooled so many times before; The first wee-wee is an innocent, painless, easy release, and soon after, a violent torrential one arrives, oh, yes! Not going to catch me out this time!
As I wobbled my way to the kitchen, the innards gave me a little rumble. No Health Checks were done yet. I just took the medications and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. Then decided to get on the computer to update yesterday’s post, as I knew I was well behind with it, and it would take me a long time. Blimey, it was cold this morning, and the sneezing started again. Tsk!
Having just booted up the computer, the stabbing pains in the innards and need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, importunately, and off to the wet room I hobbled with haste.
Oh, shame, disgrace and Fuddleplops! Just one step away from the welcoming Throne, when things started to move unexpectedly early! A most uncomfortable session. I’ll not go into detail. Just tell you it was as bad as yesterday’s Trotsky Thomas sessions were. Messy, so messy! But the pain was far less this morning! The time spent cleaning and medicating things afterwards, took a lot longer.
It’s a good job I’ve got some betterer toilet paper on order, that should be arriving tomorrow. These ultra-narrow Amazon rolls, disintegrate when you look at them, never mind use the flipping things. Tsk! I did a turn of cleaning and freshening-up, and limped back, sneezing again, to the computer, to persist with the updating of the Sunday blog.
I decided to try taking one of the Sainsburys anti-diahorrea capsules, as the stomach felt like it was brewing up fpr another go at sending me to the Porcelain Throne.
I dropped the capsule, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters packing up on me, leaving me with just the one tablet left. So I did an in-depth, painstaking search for the escaped varmint. It was not on the carpet, in the folds of my stomach, or on the desktop. So down on the hands and knees, I perused under the recliner, no luck there.
As I was about to get back up, and positioning myself near to the chair to assist my rising back up, and I espied the little blue and white monkey, hiding on the floor underneath the cabinet! Gotcha! I said! I reached for the long picker-upperer and fumbled around trying to grab the tiny capsule…
Despite several knockings of the right hand against the wood (PICP (Proximal Interphalangeal Cartilage Pain), and Arthur Itis’s giving me grief, I eventually got the capsule in the teeth of the gripper…
When I got it out, I’d crushed the damned thing and only had the flattened blue and white gelatine case. Then had the job of cleaning up the loperamide powder from the carpet! Then, getting back up, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived again – you can imagine the semi-panic I as in? The sheer pain of getting up was nothing to the fear of having an accident by not getting to the Throne on time! I felt a right schmuck!
But, I got there in time, just! Yet another messy affair, but once again, far less painful than the previous visit. Phew!.
After the umpteenth cleaning and medicating rigmarole, I returned to the computer, and had to take the last capsule after all my bestest failed efforts to retrieve the escapee! Peripheral Pete, and Nicodemus, I would not wish on my worst enemy! Well…
I went to take the belated morning medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS had shot back up, to 169, now! How I’ve not exploded, lost my marbles completely or spontaneously combusted, I don’t know. Hehehe!
Even the stick thermometer was showing that the body temperature was going down again, after a couple of near to target days!
Back below 35°c again.
I made another brew, of Glengettie Gold, took photographs of the late morning views. Still looking a bit dull, and it was really cold when I opened the window. I’m using the Nikon camera today. The Kodak is a little too conusing to me
I got the milk in the mug of tea, sneezed, and instantly needed the Porcelain Throne again! Argh!
I got to the wet-room easily in time. I have to admit, this session was of far less quantity, pong, bleeding, and quicker than any before. It was still messy though and needed the place and me cleaning, and Harold’s poor, bleeding Haemorrhoids needed medicating. Humph! I’ll be so glad when I get the softer, wider toilet tissues delivered!
The tea had gone cold by the time I got back to it, but I was beginning to lose heart, a smidge, and didn’t bother making another one. I just got on with and finally finished off the Sunday rag.
I uploaded and sorted the photos taken, then Emailed the link. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Answered a comment or two. Then made up a template and started to do this post. And it was late when I got the Ablutions tackled. But, they went fairly well today.
ABLUTIONALISTICAL SESSION REPORT
- The teeth-cleaning gave me a bit of bother, I caught the newly found hole in the back molar. My own fault, I’d forgotten about it. Only one dropsy, the toothpaste, oh no, two, the mouthwash as well. Tsk!
- The shaving, apart from many dropsies of razors and the foam spray, went well, not a single nick or cut! Smug-Mode Adopted!
- The shower was great, almost too perfect, it worried me.
As I was coming out of the shower, I noticed a bit of mound at the side of the drain cover. I thought I’ll have that! I got the Anti-mould stuff squirted on the inside of the drain, the photograph I took is a bit misty, but that’s to be expected. Left it to soak, and back to the ablutioning.
- I got dried off properly, and, without knocking anything off of the floor cabinet.
- The medicationalisationing; Naturally, the only really hurtful business, was Harold’s Haemorrhoids. (I ordered some more Germoloid cream later, added it to the Sainsbury’s order, for Wednesday)
Got dressed, in some warm clothes at last, and got some potatoes in the crock-pot for later. I think I may have added a little too much of the Squid fish vinegar/sauce. Hahaha!
Then got on with the morning’s hand-washing. Not that there was a lot, with my refusal to wear any socks.
Not that I have any fears of the metal, finger-trapping, lesion, trauma, contusion, bruise causing, toe-stubbing, Sock-Glide, at all, naturally, a man of my status, calibre and brave attitude would never be intimidated. Cough! I got the washing of the long-sleeved tee-shirt done. wrung and hung. I put the yarmulke, to soak in a basin in the sink, I used the Woolite washing liquid, for dar clothes. The cap is beginning to look a smidge tatty.
Then added some pickled eggs (damn the price, I love em!) on the Sainsbury’s order for Wednesday delivery.
Then I checked out the latest ‘Your Area’ (Postcode) email newsletter, for the latest Coronavirus figures. Not very encouraging, are they? The Government seem to ever-changing the way they report the actual figures.
Then I started to get the waste bags sorted and so I can take them to the chute. I’m not sure how or why I’ve let them grow so much… yes I am, when I had the late funny turn, was Saturday, when I usually take them. Sounds good enough to me.
I got them amassed on, on and hanging about the three-wheeled-Walker-Guide, it was not easy, but I was feeling much better at that moment. Not exactly panurgic, but more willing to have a go at doing something difficult. And this job was indeed a struggle.
By the time I’d got out of the door, and a few yards to the end of the flat’s lobby, I dropped many bags off of the trolley, retrieved them, and lost some more. Hehehe!
I got them down the waste-chute, with only some minor scrapes against the iron lid, put them down and was returning to the flat, and a caretaker saw me, he said a pleasant ‘Hello’ and shot off. Maybe he thought I was going to ask him for a favour, or help? Har-har!
I got the wheels in the flat, not easily, but coped. And the door chimes rang out their rendition of Dusty Springfield’s ♫I only want to be with you!♫ At first, I thought foolishly, “That will be Josie returning the dinner things early, so as not to wake me up for the first time in over two months!”
Of course, it wasn’t Josie, cause I’m not stripped and down in my sleep-searching mode yet, in desperate need of Sweet Morpheous yet – then she’ll come! It was an NCH chap, called to test the Fire Alarm. But I wished it would have been Josie, she’s bound to wake me up again, despite my begging her not to. Bless her, she just can’t remember.
I need to get some graphics done again, I’ll go on CorelDraw and try again. Back in a bit.
Well, I got two graphicalisations done. Better than one, Tsk!
Then I thought, had a sort of brainwave; If I can catch Josie in, I can collect the tray and things and, she will not need to wake me up later returning them. So, I took a can of plonk for her, and to pick up the tray and cutlery.
She was not very happy, and complained about me not being able to eat cakes and sweet stuff, and didn’t know what to get as a thank you for me. I repeated what I’ve been saying every week since May; Thank you, but I don’t need anything other than to know you enjoy the Sunday meals. Grasping the situation that I like giving more than receiving was difficult for the gal, and I felt awkward afterwards. “Why do you buy alcohol if you don’t drink it?” – ‘To hand out as treats and thank-you’s to others’. I have repeatedly explained this to the gal. In fact, I felt told-off. Hehehe! Bless her!
Back to the flat and got the meal prepared. At least the Trotsky Thomas had eased off, no more Chilli-con-carne for me, I thought.
Then another summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. (I was hoping they had stopped, but, there you go, or rather I went, in a hurry to the wet-room. Haha!)
A far easier session, less volume, bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, but still as messy. So, a good clean up and anticepticalisationing, change of PPs, and back to getting the nosh sorted out.
The last of the Irish potato farls, spuds, tomatoes and Jenny-supplied yellow toms, last of the beetroot, sliced a Cox’s orange-pippin apple, strong silverskin and fresh onions, the last of the Surami sticks (Sainsbury’s have none left in stock!), Marmite cheese discs, and some lemon mousse.
I shall miss the potato farls, I had some home-made ones once, on a fishing holiday to Ireland, in Athlone. the landlady, Mary, made the most wholesome and fantastic meals, and sandwiches for when we went fishing. A memory that has never been lost to me, a highlight in my life!
I got settled down, and it took only minutes for Sweet Morpheous to envelope me.
Unfortunately, the Thought-Storms came in dream form, and I woke up more often than I have ever before. Grumbleclonkackers!