00:00hrs: My expergefactor, was Duodenal Donald, oh boy, was he giving me some stick! (I realised it must be due to my hassle with the computer yesterday, it really got to me, and must have encouraged Donald to kick-off); so some of the useless, inexpedient, weak, and wishy-washy, but better than nothing. Peptac antacid guzzling, is my first job – after the regulation wee-wee, of course.
When I got to the wet-room, I felt the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne. However, things in the innards department were rock solid and after an age sitting there, produced nothing but the odd spurt of wind. And after a lot of time spent cross-wording, I gave up!
At least this wee-wee was of the PBOAN (Painless-But-Orange-Almost-Normal) variety. I gave-up on the rear evacuation, washed the hands, sanitised the touch areas, and hobbled to the kitchenette, in search of the wretchedly-weak, ineffectual Peptac antacid.
Diverted for another wee-wee, and brought the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) back into use. I didn’t need the EQ to tell me it will be required a lot today.
I downed a few swigs of the otiose, worthless, medicine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and took the morning medications. Then, with fingers crossed and a prayer, I turned on the computer!
: The computer and CorelDraw seem to be working correctly again. SO I concentrated on making up an in-brief Friday blog to replace the one that got gobbled up in the ether yesterday. Cry? Me? Of course, I did! I pressed on full of concentration and determination (but not a lot of confidence) and got it finished and posted off. Needing four wee-wees while doing it! Oh, dearie me!
Then I Pinterested a few snaps. Sent the link off, and replied to the flourish of comments, both of them. Hehehe! I’d just started creating a template for today’s diary, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arose again. Hoping for more luck this time, of I trotted to the wet-room. (The carpet is getting a little threadbare twixt the computer and toilet now, feet and four-pronged walking stick impressions all over it!) Tsk!
You may wish to avoid this description, it was so bad, I went through so much, I thought I ought to include it. Please go under the line below to continue. Sorry.
Utter agony! The movement began of its own accord. Everything stretched to what must have been the limit, and it would go no further! I even tried to push things along, which obviously brought more pain, and I could feel the blood flowing without having to check.
I got the crossword book, and spent half an hour or so on it, without any movement from the evacuation. Embarrassingly, I was so desperate, I painfully upped the PPs, and went to the kitchen and took two sachets of Macrogol in warm water, and returned to the Thone. Continued with the crossword, it took my mind off of the uncomfortableness a little, especially as I was doing so well with the puzzle.
The action started again, no input from me, and it was so solid and felt massive, then suddenly moved really fast. I didn’t think it could hurt me anymore than it was doing, but this rush proved me wrong… Argh! Oh, dearie me!
Silver-Lining Search Result: At least it wasn’t messy.
Danged ginormous, stinky-poo, and of toilet-blocking-worthiness! I had to remove the radio and paper from the top of the WC, to refill the tank, several times to get the evacuated product flushed away, I even used a wooden stick to break things up, and the skewer broke, such was the solidity! I cleaned the place, got a good wash and sanitised the touch-areas, and gave it what must have been the tenth flushing, the water bubbled up to near the top of the porcelain this time? But, it was completely clear of any matter, thankfully.
Thank was a right morningmare to go through! I swore to remember to take another Macrogol later. Just in case, and shall take one when I wake in the morning too!
I gingerly turned my attentions to the medicalisationings. This was when I noticed the blood spatter on the floor. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids had been through the mill! I used the last of the tube of Germolid cream (not to fret, I’ve got another tube, but I ordered the wrong one, the new one, which I’ll have to use after the ablutionisationing, is an ointment, what the difference is I’m not sure, but I’ll find out later, Tsk!) A vestige of discomfort remained, but so much less now the barely endurable torpedo-from-hell has been passed. I hope things don’t get blocked up lower down the flats? A good clean up all around, and off to get a mug of tea. The fear of going through that again made me take a senna tablet as well.
I turned my attention to getting the Healthchecks done. The stick thermometer showed me that the body temperature was 34.7°c, which is not too low.
: Hit my head on the corner of the cupboard door. Blungletads!
After yesterdays drop to near normality, (135) the BP sphygmomanometer had my SYS back up high again. However, its been a lot higher over the past two weeks, so fingers crossed.
Back to the computer. I was making up a template for today’s post, and on CorelDraw, making up a graphic, and it froze and turned itself off! My heart sank! Again the damned thing! I turned it back on and had lost all the work I’d done, so had to redo it again, but at least the programme let me. Pickleglobknobs! Got the photos taken this morning in, and on WordPress.
Took a snap of the once again, blue morning.
Then got on TFZer Facebooking catch-up. Next, I went on the WordPress Reader, some smashing, making-Inchcock-jealous photos on there today. Hehehe!
Tea and biscuits were partaken of, and another Macrogol made up, then got the Ablutionalisationing tackled.
The ablutions all went so surprisingly, joy-makingly well. Yes!
For some unfathomable reason, Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning?
The shaving produced only two microscopical cuts; although the dropsies were more persistent than of late, I’d got the short picker-upperer to hand, and coped injury-less well with retrieving the razors (at least eight), shaving foam (2), and the after the shave (used to stop the bleeding). Not much left of the Brut now, I’ve dropped it so often! Hehe!
The showering, well, apart from a Dizzy Dizzy visit, that caused no Accifauxpas or injuries, went so smoothly, I was almost gobsmacked! The pins and plates were nae bother and other than still looking on the pale side, appeared practically normal! Even Arthur Itis’s knees were in the best state all week!
And the medicationalisationing of my battered and been through the mill this morning, rear-end with the new ointment style Germoloids, went without the furuncle being affected, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids calmed down within a few minutes!
I sure you’ll understand how and why I fostered a Smug-Mode, Class A, Grade One! Suddenly life and hope were returning, but knowing my luck, temporarily I’m sure. Humph!
I got dressed, and scribbled some notes top use on this blog later, and decided I could cope with another brew, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana. As I bent to return the tea caddy back to the floor, I realised that my luck had not completely changed; for Duodenal Donald kicked off, and has not stopped since! (well, up to the time I got around to typing this update anyway) He seems to be making up for his absence over the last couple of days. Crikusdongungungs, he’s having a ball with me! This (I assume) is what has started Dizzy Dennis off! Most uncomfortable, now, Tsk! Up and down like yo-yo’s today, danged ailments!
I delayed the tea while Duncan was playing up, and had a good few swigs of the useless Peptac. Which incidentally, replaced the excellent Aludrox SA, which the Doctor told me years ago, had gone up in price five-fold overnight, and the NHS has barred the product. Cagnangles! I am on omeprazole for the ulcer, but it’s not doing anything at the moment to relieve my wayward innards! Still, yer don’t like to complain, does yer? Much!
The rain continues to fall, not too heavily at the moment. I took two photos from the kitchen window, one in Auto, the second one in Landscape mode. A little glum-looking!
Now, I just much find time to do some graphicalisationing, I’m right out of diary page, and Thought header graphics. Oh, Crappleness! Duodenal Duncan’s having a ball with me again!
Took the evening medications, and wondered if the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, were going to let me down again with the delivery? My EQ said; “Just get your head down, there’s not the slightest chance of them delivering your prescriptions tonight, mate!”
Fingers crossed that CorelDraw doesn’t play up again.
Two graphics were done, and ‘Inchcock-Done-Innerer’ syndrome took over. And, the wash, bish-bash-bosh, and get made the nosh! Hehehe!
The meal was prepared, and after I burnt my finger getting the fish strips out of the oven, and applied some Germolene to the index digit, I served it up. At this stage, where I had to be alert enough not to fall asleep, just in case the EQ was wrong, and the medicines did arrive, nodding-off was not an option.
This plastic plateful of nosh certainly looked appealing enough. But the potato scones were not heated properly, everything else was okay, mind. Incidentally, I found the black pepper pot I’ve been searching for over the last few days. Tsk! That spiced up the pickled eggs! A flavour rating of 7/10 given. Shame about the potato scones, but Morrisons delivered them with only one day’s sell-by date on them. Humph! Did the pots.
I got stripped, washed and down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner. Now to stay awake, in what turned out to be unfulfilled hopes of the prescriptions arriving. Which when I remembered this, I had to get some clothes on again, in foolish, vain, ridiculous ideas that the drugs may soon come. Hahaha!
I fought hard to stay awake, a couple of minutes or so long nods did happen, but I’m sure the door chimes would have woke me. After 19:00hrs, I realised what I already knew, that the prescriptions were not going to be delivered.
There I was, half-asleep, drowsy, pissed off, and in need of a wee-wee, and getting all het-up with life again. Stewing in sinful thoughts, and saddened by the failures, and the damned Thought-Storms arrived then, Huh!
I got the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) and used it.
: And a new style of wee-wee launched itself at me, caught me out I can tell yer! I christened this one as an SVTP (Storming-Vicious-Torrential-Powerful) wee-wee. I can’t believe that my lasered bladder could hold so much urine, to belted out, splashed and sprayed, showered the carpet, and me. I nearly lost my balance at it bucketed into the bucket, and poured about everything around. It stopped abruptly, no after-trickling. I’m not surprised, there just couldn’t have been anything left inside to come! Thunderisations! Little Inchy must have felt like an inadequate mini-fire hose! Haha!
Cleaning up and sanitising the resulting overspill, and me, took yonks to get done. I have to admit, I was feeling sorry for myself again, bitter at the Chemist, and so in need of sleep, the thought storming stopped, and was replaced with a pathetic sort of sulky, had enough, why me? Depression.
By the time I put away the cleaning bucket, cloths, brush and disinfectants, I was out of the darkness, and back as me again. (No idea why or how?) I was laughing to myself, thinking of how others would have coped. Remembering my fellow patients in the poor devils in the Newell Acute Stroke Ward (Now renamedUnit C5 Acute Stroke Unit), and how I am so much better than many of the others in there, were. Guilt developed, at how I was handling life’s challenges.
A most peculiar mood came over me as I got down again in the c1968 recliner. I was passive, ashamed and yet with a certain contentedness. My not getting to sleep, no longer bothered me, and when the Thought-Storming started again, I wallowed in them? This must-have affected me, cause I found notes about it scribbled on the pad in the morning, in all clear readable lettering, and that’s a first time that has happened.
Mmm? Summat must be in the wind for me. EQ says so!
00:00hrs: I woke and wobbled my body from the c1968 recliner, and off to the wet room for the regulatory wee-wee. A WCT (Weak-Cloudy-Sprinkly) effort this one was. The brain seemed to be in a rare indifferent, dispassionate, almost pococurante mode? Not me at all! The lack of fretting, worries, fears, and even the ailments, (apart from Anne Gyna), were all currently being kind to me. This would typically have made me confused, but it didn’t this morning, I just didn’t care! I was actually worried over my not being worrying!
I wayward thoughts that even I didn’t understand continued. I have always got the Health Checks, medicationalisationing, tablet taking, and a made a brew of either Glengettie Gold, Thompsons Punjabi, or Glengettie Gold tea, after the first wee-wee of the day. But no, not today. The fickle, ornery mind, decided I’d just to take the medications, and not to even make a cuppa!
Then it decided to go out of the front door and take some photographs of the new floor laid yesterday afternoon.
I was not impressed particularly, but it was better than the flooring initially intended. Not that it matters much, my recalcitrant brain refused to let me get bothered or much interested. Which made me wonder why it had given me the idea to photograph the new flooring in the first place?
You can see how muddled and puddling my poor brain is today, can’t you? The sooner it returns to its normal anxiousness, lacking in confidence, agitated, cowering mode, the better for me! I can’t cope with it like this, in a rebellious and stroppy condition!
The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet room. And what a session. The rear-end evacuation took that long to get started, I dare not force it, that I needed two wee-wees while I awaited the action to start! I’m not joking! When the activity began, the pain did too. But it only moved enough to stretch things, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered and kicked off to let me know something was squashing the poor little mites, so I had two lots of agony to contend with then!
This was more normal, and the brain seemed to sink back into its pathetic ‘Sorry-for-itself’ and ‘Worried to death about everything’ mode again! I felt more comfortable then. But, still suffering the pains, and things had stopped once more, causing more severe discomfort, but I was alright with that, for I think I was slowly losing my marbles, going unhinged and doolally.
The action suddenly started again, and it so hurtful, it burst out in such haste and agony, the relief left me panting for breath? I stay there on the Throne, trying to regain control over the grey-cells and allow the pain to subside, and another involuntary wee-wee was passed. Despite everything, I almost laughed out loud, as I heard the tinkling in the bowl! Hahaha!
That visit should be recorded, it was crazy, purgatory and I never want to go through one like this again! I’ve got 14-days before the Bowel Examination, the bladder one is next week, I think, then the bowel one the week after, both on a Thursday. The Germoloid applications were somewhat exciting and stung a lot more than they usually do. Hehehe!
Got a wash, and feeling a little nearer to normality now I had something valid to worry about, off to the kitchen. I got the kettle on, and made a start on the Health Checks with the stick thermometer, which was much higher today, the highest I can remember it being, so good news there!
Made the brew of Thompsons Punjana, and got the sphygmomanometerisationing done. Oh, dearie me! The SYS had shot up to 169? Why is it, that whenever one of the nurses takes my blood pressure, it’s always within range? Unglefrogwonglingisations!
At last, I got the updating started, and persevered right through to getting the blog all finished. Doing this, I should think took me about three hours, during which I needed, wait for it… six wee-wees! Most of them of a WCT (Weak-Cloudy-Sprinkly) type, apart from the last two, which had changed to the JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode! Still, variety is the spice of life, as some twit said.
I got the link emailed, went on the WordPress Reader, replied to some comments and went of Facebooking catch-up. I’ve turned into a right little grafter, now, Haha!
I went to make another brew, and as I was getting the Glengettie Gold teabag out of the tub, I dropped it. Leant against the counter and bent down to retrieve it, and saw the bobble hat and yarmulkes, that had fallen behind the drawers. Guilt then flowed through me. They were now dusty and dirty. But not for long, I got the washing bowl and had a good hand-laundering session. In fact, as you can see below, I got a little carried away with it. Tsk!
Got the heaters going, and the cloths done, wrung and hung to dry.
Made a mug of Glengettie, and how IO didn’t drop it, is a miracle. Nicodemus’s rotten Neurotransmitters again, and flipping Colin Craps combined attack.
But, I fooled them with swift, cunning, cleverly imposed reactions!
Ablutionalisationing next: Another decent session all around really, apart from getting a bit of a hefty-clout on the grab bar, when Dizzy Dennis visited during the showering. The Germoloiding, causing the worst, pain-wise.
The window cleaner arrived and soon had me done. £12 for the balcony and kitchen windows to be done. Chinwag enjoyed.
Got the waste bags on the three-wheeler-guide-walker, made sure I had keys, bus-pass etc. with me, got the coat on, and out to the chute, mask on, then to the bus stop…
Yes, another little escape from the lockdown, off to town, without a frown, hope I don’t fall over or down! Hehehe! Back in a while – fingers crossed!
After getting rid of the rubbish bags, I had a long wait for the elevator to arrive.
I thought at the time, I’m going to miss my bus at this rate, but still want to find time to call to see the ILCs (Independent Living Coordinators) Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, and Unterscharfuhreres and Pole-dancer, Julie on the way out.
The lift arrived, and I was down in the first-floor lobby (10:16hrs).
I called to see the Wardens, had a little natter and then made haste to the bus stop. But, I missed the bus, Dang-it!
From this point, I have covered events until I got back to the flats, in a Special Post, called: Inchock’s 4th Escape from the lockdown – to town! This is a link, in case you haven’t seen it, tons of Nottingham City Centre Photos on it!
I spotted in the bus shelter, (Columbo? Huh, not a patch on me. Hehehe!) that someone had been using tissues while sat waiting for the bus and had stuffed the dirty used tissues under the edge of the seats! One was on the floor as well. Coronavirus?
Four and half hours later, I alighted the number 40 bus and nipped into the ILCs office, with a little treat from my escape and shopping expedition. You must read of my utter embarrassment in the Poundland shop. I cringe when recalling it. Tsk!
Up to the flat, to unload the overloaded load of shopping from the three-wheeler. In doing so, I found something I’d forgotten to drop off at the office, What a clot! So, I nipped down with it and came back to get the kettle on and have a wee-wee. Henceforth, between now and getting my head down, I required at least ten more wees! All of the stunted CMA (Cloudy-Mini-Amount) mode, every one of them with a drop of PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble). Blimey, I’ve never used so many PPs in a day before!
I got the bags off of the trolley and emptied the wheeler bag.
What a load of stuff I’d purchased. And I’d only been into two shops as well, the Poundland shop and the Bargain shop!
I split the stuff up and took these shots of the massive amounts of fooder etc. I’d somehow managed to carry home. Smug-Mode-Engaged!
Cleaning and sanitary articles: A washing liquid for black and dark clothes, Zoflora, dr Whittle and a cheap bottle of disinfectants, a fresh-air spray, bleach and a lemon-sherbert (it whiffs very nice, actually) spray.
Some sweety type treats for others and me for Christmas. I got noughat and caramelised almonds for myself, Hehehehe!
After the day’s gadabout and frolickings, I was so weary, but also so hungry. So the medications were taken and I made up this easy and quick to prepare, evening meal. I thought I’d overdone it a bit, and was sure I wouldn’t be able to get through it all, but I did manage most of it. Damn it, I meant to call Jenny, Grrr!
The nosh was given a Taste-Rating of 8.6/10. Blimey, it was grand!
I got the pots washed, and moved the three hats I’d washed on the airer, and was instantly done in, tired, shattered! So stripped off, jammies on, and down in the recliner.
The sleep took a while to come, but when it did, ah, Sweet Morpheus!
The following, pictorials and odes, were created in support of the Depressed Nottinghamian At-Risk High-Rise Flat-Dwelling Prisoners Support Group. Donations gladly accepted.
Having made his escape bid plans again. He clandestinely crept to the lifts, falling over his three-wheeked walker-Guide, waited for the regulation Winwood Heights twenty minutes for a lift, and got down in time to miss the bus.
He waited patiently, for the next bus, but this proved something of a benefit for the old git. Not many folks about, but he still managed to corner one poor chap, and hastened to bore him to death verbally! The man wisely moved away.
And Inchcock, being instantly bored himself now, went into one his Sherlock Holmesian modes. Someone had been blowing their nose in the bus shelter, and stuffing the tissue under the seating?
He caught the bus and got out his crossword puzzles, but the driver, obviously a stock-car racing fan, nearly had Inchy out if his seat a few times en route to Nottingham City centre. Trying to hold onto his three wheeler, took some effort.
The old chap went itn the Pondland shop on Lower Parliament Street, and despite his painful and feet, enjoyed his hobble around the store, coming out with many items he didn’t need or want, Tsk!
He got to the checkout, and got himself in a right pickle and state of embarrassment at the self-serve checkout! The lady monitoring the tills, was greatly unimpressed with his continual dropping of things and farting about trying to retrieve them.
But did not offer to help, although she shared some sneerings, of hate, derision, scornfulness and causticness with him. He came out redfaced and £20 lighter. And took these three shots of the Milton Street junction.
Where he went into the Bargain Shop. A terrible experience! No one talking, empty shelves etc. But, he still spent over £21, mostly on Christmas treats for his family of friend in Woodthorpe Court.
He was struggling now, the three-wheeler trolley-bag full, and three carrier bags hanging on the handles, would make progress awkward for him. At least he remembered to but sone of the dar clothing cleaner. He set off on a limp towards the Slab Square.
On his hobble along Milton Street to Upper Parliament Street, he noticed the Nottionghamian pedestrians crossing the road against the lights again, but this is a usual, regular occurrence. He adjusted thos spectacles.
Which was a mistake, as he turned onto Upper Parliament Street, the old fart of a fool unthinkingly took the spectacles off to clean them.
They got caught in the facemask!
He crossed over the road, and down King Street. Near the bus stops, a chap dressed like the Beatles used to, with plaited hair hanging below his shoulders, stopped him and asked for ‘a couple of quid for a coffee’. As he eyed up the bags!
Inchy just said, ‘No!’ and carried in hobbling down the hill, turning to keep an aye on the youth as he did, to make sure he wasn’t following. Getting to the Slab Square, Inchy gor out his camera for a snapping away session.
He saw the little crowd and paparazzi outside the Council House steps, he went back into Sherlock Holmesian mode, and took a close up[ phot of whoever was on the steps. This person came by. Inchy got a decent shot of his/her head.
Inch repositioned himelf a bit closer, and waited for the right moment to get a view of what was going on. Nice zoomed-in photo for once. Asssumed to be the Sheriffess or Mayoress of Nottingham? Again, not single Policeman in sight today.
The tatterdemalion, dour, malagrugrous, weary, tellurian, dangerous populace of Nottingham, were showing a bit of itnerest, at least. Not many of them had face-masks on, but it isn’t law yet to wear them outsdoors yet, methinks.
The lad poddled his way wit hdifficulty up Queen Street to get to his bus stop, and caught a number 40 back home, to his never-restfull, beloved, always something to worry about, four years being upgraded and not finished yet, Winwood Heights.
He was the only passenger when the bus moved off from the terminus. Pondering on should he get out the crossword or not; one look at the mass of bags on the trolley, and the book being at the bottom, he decided against it!
The first passenger to get on the bus, was Face-Maskless.
The second one, had his mask under his chin.
A lady got on, and she had no mask on!
As the chin-mask wearing man got up tp get off, he gave Inchy a cautionary scowl, that was a bit threatening. As the bus progressed along St Anns Well Road, it passed the Health Centre where Inchy has to go for his bladder-scan.
This is St. Anns Valley Centre, 2 Livingstone Road, Nottingham NG3 3GG.
Events over his last two visits there, do not proffer the least bit of encouragement or confidence in Inchy.
The record, as Inchy explains:
February: Went to get the feet done, and they said come back later, we’ll have to lool at your health record.
March: They refused to do my feet, cause the Warfarin level was too high..
July: They refused to tend to my feet, because I’d just had the stroke.
August: Refused again, cause of my having been diagnosed with diabetes.
September: The did cut my nails, but said they will not be able to so in future. I have to go private in future.
Poor old sod!
He arrived back at his Woodthorpe Court, along with the mysterious wonders of, the Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations and Kehuas. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, 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 out of, and the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’.
01:15hrs: The regular waking up in need of a wee-wee, a struggle out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, recliner. Then the catching of my balance, and the hobble, to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Partook in a partaking in an SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wee, which must have lasted for about 10-seconds? Mmm?
To the wet room, to clean and sanitise the bucket, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Good timing! And what a pleasantly acceptable surprise as well! Very quick, I think someone had placed a pump or motor in the innards, Hehe! It was a long-extended dollop, but it was out and done within seconds! No mess, minimal bleeding, but most importantly, far less painful than it’s been for months! Yee-Ha!
But, would the evacuated product disappear with one flush? No! I kept filling up the tank by hand, tried putting bleach down, prodded and poked with a stick, but it took at least eight flushings before things cleared (At least I hope it has!)
The flush handle was getting hot, I’d used it so much. Hehehe! I couldn’t resist doing a bit of CorelDraw skullduggery on this photo later on.
I found myself pondering on the days’ needs and musts, the Sainsbury order due, the Nottingham City Homes maintenance men calling (To look at the balcony door, I hope), and the Vampire Nurse is due to take the Warfarin blood to be tested. I think there is something else that’s not on the calendar, but it’s all a bit vague in the head – No change there then!
I got the Health Checks tended to. Once again, the BP sphygmomanometer gave forth a decent SYS count for me, at 148. The DIA 74, and Pulse was at 80. These seemed okay as well. I considered assuming a Smugness-Mode, but I decided against it.
The stick thermometer reading of 34.3° was another good one.
A betterer photo of the thermometer this time. I used the Nikon camera. Then took a couple of shots of the morning view across Nottingham. One photograph, the first one, with the Night Landscape setting, the second in Aperture Priority setting.
The AP one was a lot closer to how the view looked to the naked eye. Such an excellent deep blue all around.
Will, or are things improving for me, luck-wise? Are perhaps the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court; the entities, ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing-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, by getting him to start feeling confident? Then shattering his foolish hopes, and giving him a pasting of chronic bad luck? Got carried away there again. Sorry!
I began updating the Tuesday diary, a lot of work to be done on it. But, I ploughed on persistently, ignoring the oh, so many corrections I had to do, thanks mainly to SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and the tenderness of the right hand’s PICP (Proximal Interphalangeal Cartilage Pain). A mouthful that one is, Haha!
I finally got the updating finished. Sent of the email and link. Then made a template for this post, and started it off. But not for long, the ablutionalisationing needed to be done, time was moving on. I got the jacket grey-jacket soaking in the kitchen sink, then got the ablutions done.
Remarkable indeed, twas a stand-up job, too early to use the noisy shower. A handful of dropsies, no dizzies, no falls, no toe stubbing. Only one nick shaving! Yes! The medicationalisationing of the rear-end was bit hurtful but was to be expected now that the attentions of Constipation Conrad are back. And the legs looked so good – still deathly pale of course, but still, I mustn’t complain.
The Sainsbury delivery man rang the intercom, and I admitted him. There didn’t look much in the box he put the food into for me. I checked on the paperwork.
There were unavailable items that had not come, this made my total spend lower than the minimum for free delivery, so the numbskulled, greedy, rich-aristocracy owning scumbags, added a £3 delivery-charge! Grumbleconfusement! Balderdashness! Teeth-Gritting-Gnashing and Buggleworthlessness!
Still, I have to give the robbing arse-holes credit, they saved the day sending me some butter, Germoloid, potato cakes and Irish Farls. Oh, and the Surimi sticks. And the potato farls had only one-days shelf life on it! Huh!
I got the grey jacket from the kitchenette’s sink, and thoroughly rinsed it with fabric softener, then, all done, wrung and hung to dry on a coat hanger above the sink unit.
: I realised I’d not got the Alarm Wrislet on. Obviously, I thought to myself, I’ve left it in the wet room, it’ll be hanging on top of the Opium bottle… no hang on, that’s not right, erm… Olmesartan bottle, where I put it every morning while showering… But No, it wasn’t there! So I had a search around, a ferret, hunt, and or rootle, all over the place. A panic-attach was a probability, but luckily I found the wristlet. I’m too embarrassed to say where Tsk! Fool!
Herbert was doing his modelling again, tapping, knocking. Wonder what he’s making today?
The Nottingham City Homes fitter called me on the landline. He’s on his way.
He arrived ten minutes later; and set to work on the balcony door and lock. It had been fitted wrongly at birth. Haha! A bit like me, then! It seems that other blocks, as well as Winwood Heights, have been having trouble with their balcony’s and locks. He soon had me sorted and checked that I know how to use the lock and key.
But I didn’t have the dexterity to use the key, but it can lock by pulling up a lever as well. Fair enough then. I thanked the young man, and he shot off. Sociable bloke.
Then the Vampire nurse arrived, let herself in as I asked her to, she soon had the blood taken for the Warfarin test. She was also sociable and pleasant. I thanked her, and she shot off (busy).
As Herbert kicked off again, I went on Facebooking catch-up. Didn’t take too long this time.
Now I can plan to get out to the Poundland store, later. Yipee!
The door chimes rang out there ♫I only want to be with you♫, tune. It was Deana to tell me that the flat lobby floor is going to be worked on and is out of bounds for about an hour.
So, getting out to the Poundland store is now cancelled. Humph! Gawd, it’s hard work living here!
Italiano nosh prepped in the oven (ready-made Cannelloni Ragu) A new product from Iceland. I have to say it looked most unappetising when I took it out of the box, and covered the top with grated extra strong cheese, before going into the oven. Sliced some mini-tomatoes and sea-salted them, and apple, and a pot of lemon mousse to follow.
Well, it looked delicious when cooked, and tasted almost divine when eaten. The tomatoes were excellent, well, it all went down okeydokey indeed. A Taste-Rating of 8.5/10!
Got the few pots used cleaned, checked on the jacket hanging to dry, left it until morning, not dry enough yet. Took the evening medications. And down in the £300 recliner, in search of sweet Morpheus.
Again, like last night, I kept dozing off and waking again a few minutes later, and this lasted for hours. But tonight the Thought Storms were intervening as well.
Then I must have stayed asleep longer, cause when I woke, I could remember bits of a what seemed very lengthy dream I’d been having; Not sure where I was, I didn’t recognise my surrounding, but there were black cats everywhere, the purring from them, was like sweet, calming music. At one stage, I was coming up some cellar steps, and the black felines all jumped on me from the steps above… the memory gets vague then, but later I found I was in a hospital bed, and the cats were lying all over the bed, taking very orderly turns to come up and nudge my chin with theirs.
This delight seemed to go on for ages, but when I woke, I think, not sure, that this mammoth dream had been had in seconds. This is the first dream I’ve remembered in months, in fact since the stroke, I think. Purr! Haha!
