Day: 9 October 2020

I set off, and watched as the bus pulled away from the bus stop, too far for me get there in time! Huh!

I called in to see ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, she gave me back the appointment letter for the CHD Test, and we had a few moments (Precious to me) chinwagging. Off out to the bus stop I poddled, finding the rain was belting down!

I arrived at the bus stop and thought how lucky we all were to have the 40 bus now calling at the flats, I needed this route as it goes down St Anns Well Road, and the stop is close where I destined for, St Ann’s Health Centre, for the scans to be done.

I alighted the bus near Robin Hood Chase, the first time after the stroke, I used this place, it took me perhaps three minutes to walk from the stop to the centre. Today, I’m sad to say, it took me about ten minutes, as I can no longer get up the steps with the trolley-walker guide. Poor old thing!

The security guard, in response to my having used the handwash, and was looking around, cause I could not remember where to go, he kindly gave me a muttered Hurgh! as he and pointed to the reception desk end. All cleverly done without his elbow slipping off of the counter he was leaning on. Hehe!

I went to the wrong window, and got a head shake in the right direction by way of help by an assistant! The young lady who tended to me, read the paperwork I had given her, and was pleasant enough, as I asked her for the third time, to repeat what she had said.  I explained that with the Screening fitted to counter Coronavirus, and my not being able to wear my hearing aids with the facemask on. There was a definite tension in the air, but my EQ could not pinpoint the reason. She adopted sign language and pointed to the well-spaced out chairs at the end of the massive room. Ah, thought I, I’ve got it now, and thanked her, and wobbled to the chairs, they were all free, no one else in sight. Eerie, in a way! Got the crossword book out, but didn’t have time to do any, as the young lady geriatrician urogynecologist lady came to me, and indicated I should follow her. Which I did, to her treatment room.

A non-embarrassing investigation was carried out on the bladder. Endless questions, but she was most patient with my having to ask her to repeat herself throughout the next hour and a half. The procedure was an ultrasound scan, sometimes called a sonogram, and used high-frequency sound waves to create an image of my bladder to ensure that it is emptying fully, which looked fully emptied and okay at the time. When I have, if they think it is necessary, the bowel scan, it will be a little more intrusive.

A long discussion, and question and answer session too place.

The lady gave me more paperwork to study, but will all be useful stuff, and relative to my new problems, ailments, difficulties, whatever.

The urine check card is a good idea, great. It deals straightforwardly with my liquid intake advice. Not that I liked the ideas and suggestions. But, they have to be done!

On the slightly annoying side, they want me to drink only decaffeinated tea! A shock for my system that was! I tried it, just once many months ago, and gave the teabags away. It was the most putrid tea I have ever tasted, not that there was any taste, mind! Weak, insipid rubbish! I was desperate now, I mentioned the fact that I had bought Glengettie teas, and Thompsons Punjana teas over the internet, cause no one else sells them from Amazon, but you have to buy six packets at a time! She recommended that I introduce the decaf tea slowly, or it might have an adverse effect on the bladder. Oh, dearie me!

The bladder sample I’d taken with me, was identified from the colour, as level 6 – Very dehydrated, and in need of antibiotics. Thunderglobberisations! She will contact me in two weeks to see how things are going. And has asked the Doctor to order some of the Nitrofurantoin antibiotics for me.

I put away the paperwork given me, thanked her, add departed, a smidge depressed at the thought of decaf tea. Hehehe!

Leaving the building, I struggled down the short flight of steps to the road.

: I got myself in a right-pickle with the three-wheeler as I struggled to get it down the steps. I secretly hoped someone would see me and come and help, because using the rain covered handrails, I could not grip onto them and ended up getting to the bottom, with a sore ankle, and Arthur Itis kicking off! No one came.

It was near deserted on the street, Nottingham’s traditional Pavement Cyclist, vehicles parked on double yellow lines, and vans driving onto the pavement. Humph!

I decided not to go into town after all, and I called in the Co-op One-Stop store to get some wholemeal ready-sliced cobs and cheap bleach. But soon changed my mind. I paid the lady and went out to go to the bus stop back home… and the 40 bus drove by en route to the shelter. Tut-tut! The next one was due in 25-minutes. I opted to go on a hobble into town after all.

As I limped along, the rain had now stopped altogether, it noticed that the place was full of student accommodations, and flats, +apartments.

A little further on, as I passed the Mosque, the skyline was of yet another Student accommodation block called Lexus. I recall looking up the details of these new apartments. I found a cut-out from an estate agents advertisement, and the prices seemed amazingly cheat to me, how do they do it? I must be reading this item wrongly, ah, they are shared flats, yet have room for six, with six baths and beds?

As I got outside these flats on my way to town, this umbrella, now deceased, made me remember an incident from many years ago when I was on my motorbike driving to work, along Clifton Lane, and a brolly hit me in the head and got tangled in my helmet! I didn’t laugh at the time, but I did later, Hahaha! I should point out, that in those days, the helmets were cork and leather, and had straps and buckles. In which one of the errant blowing away in the wind brolly’s ribs actually got itself lodged in the strap buckle. I could easily have come off the bike and injured or killed myself. Still, the Good Lord saved me: So that I could live to old age and suffer heart attacks, duodenal ulcers, being shot, hernias, blood cancer, skin cancer, haemorrhoids, deafness, colour blindness, have a stroke, become diabetic, get peripheral neuropathy, have my neurotransmitters die, get made redundant three times, lose… Well, you get the idea! Hehehe!

Where was I? Oh, yes…

I limped into town and called at the Poundland shop. Mainly to get some of the individual Carnation milk cartons, and some lemon freshener spray.

But, after getting some bits in my basket on my way to the milk cartons, I discovered they had none in stock!  Gragglespittlegurgle! So, I put the things back on the shelves where I picked them from and left, to go to the Poundland store on Wheeler Gate.

The Nottinghamian folk crossing the traffic lights against the signal. There were many Facemaskless Nottinghamians about on my painful plodding.

The most outstanding photograph of the whole escape from lock-down was then taken on Upper Parliament Street!

Can you see the reason in this picture? There is, wait for it… An imitation police officer in it! Yes! The first one I’ve seen in m,y last four Nottingham visits!

I got to King Street, and I took this photo on the corner. No facemasks on anyone, that I can see anyway! Tsk!

I turned left down the King Street hill, towards the City Centre.

I arrived in the Slab Square, not many folks about here, I hobble through the square on my way to Wheeler Gate. Even with such a small amount of Nottinghamian tellurians around, the two non-tax paying coffee con-artist shops were both busy.

I got into this Poundland store, and they only had one pack of the individual milks on the shelves! So, I took that, bought some other stuff. Cheap disinfectant, mouthwash, Ginsters pasties, a can of mild cillicon-carne, Gleam lime & mint disinfectant, and from their new frozen cabinet, a packet of Bird Eye haddock & cheese fishcakes. I’ll have some of these with tonight’s meal, methinks!

Caught the 40 bus back to the flats, and got in, completely drained, tired and in capable of logical thoughts or activities other than those essential.

Like, having a wee-wee. Hahaha!