TFZer with her devoted pets in the garden! ♥
Defeeted-defeated? Never mind, sorry.
Monday 9th November 2020
Croatian: Ponedjeljak, 9 Studenog 2020
00:10hrs: I bolted upright, knocking the TV remote from where it was, resting peacefully in the folds of my gigantic wobbly-bellied torso! I tried to stop it flying off, and sent the Spring Water bottle off of the ottoman, to join the remote somewhere in the distance on the floor.
Well, that was awakening with a difference!
Then as I was fighting and fumbling to get my elephantine body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, dusty, broken-down, uncomfortable, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, I recognised just how vicious the ‘Hum’ was this morning. I’ve never heard it so loud!
So, whatever the expergefactor that woke me up with such a jolt, it had to be investigated, or I could not relax without knowing what had caused it.
I just had to have a look around, and all my concentration was needed; thus I stubbed my toe against the bottle of Spring Water that I’d just knocked over, as I moved to search around for the cause, noise or whatever had brought me back to semi-life. This really was a different revivification. A painful one as well, now! All the worse due to the uncut toenails, and deformed bending right foot big toenail inwards. Hungleblogsworthy!
I went in every room (All three of them) seeking an explanation as to what had woken me from my slumber. Despite my Sherlock Holmesian investigations, I found nothing that might have been the cause. Shame, one day, I might? Hehe!
I took an imitation, weak, dribbling wee-wee. Washed the hands and off to the kitchenette to get the health checks done, but after getting the kettle turned on, I took this photo f the morning view – amazingly after three days of fogginess greeting me, there was none today, just a little mist.
I started with the Body Thermometer and got another fair reading like yesterday, but a little lower, of an acceptable 36.3°c. I did notice that the battery indicator was half-way down; this is going to be an expensive job at this rate. Hey-Ho!
The Boots BP sphygmomanometer reading, was contrarily, up even higher, to a worrying SYS of 172. I’ll try to remember to mention this to gorgeous Hristina, the Vampire Phlebotomy nurse when she arrives later on.
The plates of meat (feet) and toes were a little painful this morning. I took the medications and got the computer on, then had a look at the tootsies. The hallux (big toe) is moving again behind the Index toe. It seems I’ve acquired a bruise on the top of the left foot. Most probably, it’s from this morning’s fracas in getting out of the recliner?
I set about updating the Sunday Inchcock Today blog. It took me hours, but at least the wee-weeing was not interrupting me regularly today. Things seem to have gone on strike in the bladder department. Mmm? I finally got it done and posted off. Sent the email links. Facebooking, Comments, and went on the WordPress reader section.
I got a newsletter arrived by email, and had a look for any updates on the Coronavirus figure for the UK. This on the right was the only one available.
It seems (suspiciously) that they are no longer publishing the figures on every update in the Your Area magazine. I wonder why?
I got a p[ot of the new noodles to try. And I made a brew of Glengettie tea to have with it. The Glengettie well-brewed tea was as usual, perfect! But the Batchelor’s pot noodles were tasteless crap, and resembled eating newspaper; although the newspaper would most likely have been tastier! Be Warned folks! This is one snack to avoid! Eurgh, spit!
As a thick mist came down, and the rain started at the same time, I made a start on this diary. After an hour or so more, I realised it was a little later than I thought, and had to get off to tend to the ablutions. Otherwise, I might be in the nude when my precious Vampire nurse arrived. No time for a shower, it’ll have to be a rushed stand-up job. I am a fool!
When I got in the wet-room, the need for the first Porcelain Throne visit of the day arrived. The fluctuating battle, twixt Constipation Konrad and Trotsky Terence, I’d say was a 2-2 draw. Hehe!
The bruise on the back of the left hand is clearing up well. I won’t see it by morning!
The teeth-cleaning was pain-free!
The shaving was a bit of a struggle. Four dropsies, three little nicks, and a partridge in a pear tr… Oh no that’s wrong! Hahaha!
The medicationalisationing well smoothly for once. Smug-Mode resisted going into!
As I was coming out of the wet-room, Starkers! The intercom flashed. It was my Angel Vampire Nurse arriving nice and early. I had to rush about getting some trousers on, and I made it only just in time before Hristina was walking in the door… Phew! That saved her a terrible sight to look at! She soon got the job done, and although in a rush, she still managed to show care and concern for me. She’s brilliant at that! ♥
Sadly, of course, she had to shoot off to her next lucky patient. She was leaving me feeling a smidge down in spirits, as is only natural.
I got on with the hand-washing duties: a zip-up jacket and the jammy bottoms. I made a few accifauxpas, though.
- I spilt the water on the floor, emptying the water in the bowl.
- Knocked the stack of things draining, some went on the floor!
- Putting the jammies on the coat-hanger, Nicodemus ensured that I lost grip and they went on the floor too!
- After I’d got the job done and the clothes wrung and hung, as I turned to get the camera, Back-Pain-Barbara gave me a pasting, pain-wise!
Not one of my bestest hand-washing session! Argh! Then I had to clean everything up! Still, it could have been worse, I suppose, I didn’t go over or crumple!
I got on the computer again, I replied to a Jenny email, and changed some of the Morrison order, for tomorrow. I added some part-baked bread rolls, increased the Chilli-Con-Carne order to three cans, the bleach to two, and added two BBQ pot noodles (Not the crap Batchelor’s ones) to the items. I tried to add a jar of pickled eggs, but they haven’t had any for a while.
I uploaded and changed the spec of the photos to go on here, and as I did so, it dawned on, I’d only had four visits for a wee-wee up to now. Mmm, strange?
As I was doing some updating to this post, the door chimes rang out with Dusty’s tune. I hobbled to investigate.
Nobody was there, but Jenny ♥ had left me something in a carrier bag. It was a jar of Pickled Eggs! Now that was wonderful of her. She must have read about my problems in getting some on this blog. So, kind of her! ♥
A new bladder control sheet came through the door. Where was it from, or who, I do not know? It was just a sheet in the envelope with no stamps or anything else. I think maybe it was intended for someone else, not me? The one I was using from the Eurologist, is nothing like this one? This, I think, was done on Excel. Could have been dropped of my a family member, who got the address wrong? I’ll take it down to the foyer later on.
Ah, well, time to get something to eat methinks, oh, I’ll call Jenny first to thank her for the pickled eggs. We had a good long nattering session, I enjoyed that, but not Stuttering Stephanie causing me problems. Tsk!
As I got in the kitchen to plan the meal, the door chimes rang forth again.
It was Josie returning the meal plate tray and cutlery. I did inquire if she relished her dinner, and she told me it was fantastic. Something else to perk me up! Great!
Back to the mise en placing, then. I fancied chips of some sort; I’ve not had any for yonks now. Pork knuckle (Golonkowa), cobs, and… Oh, I don’t know, not enough garden pea to use the last tin, but some might be coming tomorrow. I’ll go int kitchen, and do what comes naturally. Hehe!
I dug into the freezer and found some of their sell-by date, Ridiculously Crispy chips, so it shall be – I bashed and banged them to separate them, opened the can of pork knuckle. Sliced some tomatoes, had a Jenny donated pickled egg with black pepper, and the only dessert left in the fridge, an orange jelly. I’d added the two part-baked roll to the chips later, which came out alright.
Indeed the whole meal looked appealing to me.
Disappointingly, when it came to my noshing of this fair looking feast – I found many faults and things not to my liking. The good stuff, first: The pickled egg and pork knuckle were fine. The tomatoes were tasteless – the pickled onions had I think, ‘Gorn orf!’ As Her Majesty might say. Hehe! The rolls were like warm-newspaper clipping soaked in rainwater!
And the chips, well, they had a flavour unbeknownst to me before, a sort of cross, between the taste we whipper-snappers used to get in the forties and fifties when we chewed on out tin soldiers, and cough medicine. I tried a few, but I gave up, as I reckoned it might be dangerous to consume any more of them.
The somewhat out of date orange jelly had formed a leather-like coating on top that I had to dig my way through to get to the few edible bits. As I said at the start of this gastronomic report, thank heavens for the pickled egg and pork knuckle. They, at least, kept my Flavour-Rating up to 4/10.
Back to the Chilli-Con-Carne tomorrow I think, but I might have something coming on today’s Morrison order to have, I vaguely recall having an interest in a ready-made meal on their site, but of course, I could be wrong. I often am, you know!
I dished the uneaten fodder in the waste bin and took it to double wrap, to throw down the chute in the morning… but it had to happen didn’t it; will I ever have a day, just one day, without Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launching into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing? Obviously not! Mind you, it was good long one, and this helped me not to go over. I believe. I did bash the leg on the edges of the cupboards a couple of times so that I may find a new bruise or two around the right shin in the morning ablutions.
At one point in the cross between a one-legged jive, and Stanley Matthews kicking footballs at goal from a distance, I was even pleased, with my dexterity even though I had no control over it.
As I say, it was a long job, and the usual aches, stings and pains were suffered afterwards, they are always worse after a lengthy dance.
Yet I felt an infinitesimal, iota of pride, in my staying on my feet, or at times it was just my one foot, (Hehe!). And avoiding any serious damage to my beefy, masculine, fit, young, highly-toned, muscular body. Hahaha!
Sweet Morpheus was kind to me tonight. I was off to sleep in a short time, perhaps before I was ready. For when I woke up, there were cheese biscuit crumbs liberally scattered over my elephantine belly, and in the folds. Can’t win ’em all!