Aha, what’s this TFZer up to, then? Hehe!

Saturday, 10th October 2020

Swedish: Lördag 10 Oktober 2020

01:15hrs: I stirred, thinking of what needed to be tackled today. The need for a visit to the Porcelain Throne made my mind up for me. And almost nimbly, (well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration) I clambered out of the ageing ancient recliner, (we are well-matched) up onto my unbalanced legs, and had to sit in the swivel chair for a few seconds when Dizzy Dennis attacked. Luckily the need for the Throne was not too urgent. Phew!

Wowzah, it’s blooming cold this morning! Brrr! But not once I was inside the wetroom – I’d left the convector heater on in there again! This is going to cheer up the bank manager! 

Now here this! Or, ‘Now hear this’, if you want it spelt right. Tsk! This session on the Throne was the easiest for many weeks! Yes, the Docusate sodium capsules, are working a treat! I shall not miss taking them, oh, no! I’d estimate that the pain was 40% less, far easier, and I had a modicum of control over the movement! Mega-Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Got a wash, fresh PPs on, and a dab of Germolid cream was applied. Off to the kitchenette, I wobbled. I took a photo of the morning view with the Canon camera, but I still don’t seem to able to get any decent shots lately, with any of the cameras? Fair enough, I know there are times when I’m shaking badly with the right hand and arm, maybe it is such small movements this morning, and I don’t realise it? But it’s so annoying! Ah, well, plenty of folks worse off than me. 

Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and got the tablets ready for imbibing, then did the job of sphygmomanometering to get the BP readings. The Sys, and Dia though a bit high, were lower than yesterdays levels. Oh, and the pulse had come down, well.

The body temperature was well done, no idea why. Down to 32.7, or 32.1°c.

I’d got out a Macrogol sachet to make up, but when I read that one of the ingredients in the stool-softener capsules, is actually Macrogol? Now I’m a little confused. Do I take the Macrogol or not? I left it, to be on the safe side, I don’t want Trotsky Terence to come back.

I gt on the computer, well-determined, obsessed with getting some graphics and a template or two done today. But, as usual, I got sidetracked. I did the comment replying first, then along came Porcelain Throne demand, mark2!

Plenty of sneezing this morning.

To the Throne, but things didn’t start on there own this time. I got out the crossword book, tried a little pressure, and wallah! Things moved, and with such speed, I didn’t even get to read one clue in the crossword book, and it was all-over! Great! Marvellous! Wonderful!

I even found myself cleaning the porcelain when there was no need to! Old habits of the last three weeks or so of Constipation Conrad’s causing so much bleeding every visit to the Porcelain Throne was possibly the reason. Hahaha!

I made a fresh mug of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea, and got back on the computer, updating the Saturday post, and scribbling note of what happened today as I went along. Eventually, many hours later, I got it finished. All between many wee-wees!

Then I made up two templates, which took a long time, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept going offline, and so many corrections to be made. Cost me nigh-on three hours. Blurblecrups!

I went on the WordPress Reader section, then Facebook updating.

Then, the crap sad, overcharging sickening Liberty-Global, Virgin Media Internet went down!

I went to plan the meal for later. It will, I thought, be a Cannelloni Ragú. With tons of cheese on top, and some of Jenny’s yellow tomatoes as well. Ah, I’m out of bread again, with Iceland not sending any, so I had a dig in the freezer to get the packet of bread thins out to defrost. I could not believe it! What a Schmuck!

• After taking everything to search for bread in the freezer, none there!
• And then remembered I have to go to the chemist to pick up the antibiotic prescription.
• And, I’ve not started on this blog yet.
• It doesn’t matter about having any bread I can get some when the mobile shop arrives.
• No, I can’t it’s Sunday today!
• I must call Jane to see how they both are.
• Did I take any Warfarin last night?
• Will I get any graphics done before I fall asleep?

Yes, it was a Thought-Storm! Then the brain went on strike. It’s the only way to stop them sometimes, but reconnecting with reality and continuity afterwards, is no mean feat!

And it’s still damned cold! I’ll put the new warmer slippers on, that’s a good idea. Did I say a good idea?

Well, that wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I lost my balance getting the right slipper on the foot, then Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had a go at me, and my grasp on the swivel chairs arm and I gave my right ankle a decent bang against the Ottoman on my way down to the carpet! Right near the ankle ulcer.

Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. I merely laughed off the pain, jumped back up off of the floor, and went to check if the internet had come back on. Oy, Oy, Oy!

Alright then, I landed on my knees, which set off Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, that’s when I hit the ankle! I struggled to get back up, I considered calling Jenny and Frank, or pressing the wrist alarm, but was determined to get back up on my own. With the help of clinging on the recliner, the cushion came away, and I ended up on my bum again on the floor against the chair. With Harold’s Haemorrhoids in a right state, now. A second attempt, using the old fat chair, was successful, albeit a painful exercise. Now I’d had enough.

I got down in the computer chair and took the photo above of the leg, and the rain came heavier than ever. So I snapped that through the balcony windows as well.

I had to go to the wet room to clean up the blood; poor Harold had lost, washed up again, and applied generous proportions of the Germoloid ointment.

I was no longer interested if the internet was working or not, I turned off the machine and went to get something to eat, with an effort to get some sleep earmarked for afterwards, I can do the finishing of, hopeful in the morning or late tonight perhaps. I’ll how the sleep goes, but first, the meal must get prepared.

I rang Jane as I was getting the meal sorted and into the oven. I put a thick layer of strong cheese on top of the Cannelloni Ragú, along with many slices of Jenny-supplied home-grown yellow tomatoes. Got it in the oven.

Bad connection, lost her twice and had to ring back. Poor Jane has still lost the sight in her left eye. This week, they both have hospital visits. Pete for his cancer treatments, Jane for here vision and Cluster Headaches. We are a right-set between us. But they seem to be coping well with their problems, I do so hope things can get easier for them. We managed a bit of memory delving and a smile twixt ourselves.

I had to depart the long and enjoyable call, to get the fodder out of the oven.

It looked okay to me. I confirmed this when I ate it with a baked bean pastie. A worthy taste rating of 7.8/10 given.

I did no washing up, I was feeling low after the internet went down, but would have been worse if not for talking with Jane and Pete.

I got a Jonathan Creek DVD on, headphones on, and kept nodding, waking and rewinding for ages, then decided to give up. As I took off the headset, the door chimes rang out.

Being half asleep and in a confused state, my mind told me it was Josie returning the meal plate and things. (Not realising unitl I saw who it was, that it was Saturday and I’d not made her meal yet, Tsk!)

It was the Sainsbury order that I’d forgotten all about. What a dimwit!

The delivery lady was very patient with me. She put the goods in the box for me, bless her.

I got the stuff into the kitchen, and I was pleased to see that the chilli-con-carni and costly rediculusy overpriced, but tasty pickled eggs had arrived with the other things. No potato farls or bread, though. I left every thing laying about anywhere and got back in the c1968 recliner.

Zzzz!

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