Incursiveless Inchies, Sunday 3rd January 2021 Dairy

♥ TFZer gal Linda ♥

Sunday 3rd January 2021

Esperanto: Dimanĉo 3 Januaro 2021 Laktaĵfabriko

22:50hrs: On the reactivation of my brain cells, I found myself in a semi-confused state of mind. I soon started to identify the ailments that were in an active, destructive mode and mood!

The guilty ones were; BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), Duodenal Donald and KCC (Kneecap-Carilage Cathy). I got the feeling that Anne Gyna may soon be joining them, the slight tingling sensation around the chest gave this away. It proved so as well, by the time I’d nudged the horrendously large and flabby over-bellied body from the recliner, and got myself stood and balanced – she was in full flow, giving me some stick!)

There was not much spark in my thoughts (or body) this morning. But I was feeling less down than I was yesterday. The regulatory wee-wee was taken. But not of the weak unwilling variety as yesterday, this one was of the PSSP (Persistent, Short, Sharp, painful) mode, as were the next five of them over the next hour!

I robotically got the medications taken and did the Health Checks. When I found it was time to start using the medications from the sorted-out pill-boxes that had no lids one them and I’d put in the old pots. My mind became more concentrated. I took the morning medications and made up the night one in advance; crossing my fingers that I’d identified the differences twixt the Codeine, Furesmomide and Beta-blockers, that all look the same to me.

Although the Boot’s Chinese made Sphygmomanometer’s SYS reading way too high, it way much lower than these last three days. Which was a relief)

The Chinese made Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer was also down a smidge, and back into the Safe-Green’ zone at 36.7°c. So, two bits if good news in a row there?

The tea didn’t taste right to me, and at first, I thought maybe the milk was going off. I dished the cold mug and made another, but the milk seemed fine, and it had another three days of shelf life on it? I’d made a brew of 99 tea this time, it has a sort of dryness in the flavour to it, but this also tasted different from me?

Then it dawned on me, worryingly… My recent loss of taste, the shivering, the high BP, and yesterday’s coughing could indicate having the Covid thingy? And, I’ve been napping a lot more, and getting tired earlier in the day? No, better not fret, it’ll be a cold that’s all.

Taking the tea to the computer to get the updating done, proved to be a bot farcical. I’d done the right thing and used the more reliable left arm to carry the mug. I walked carefully through the doors, slowly as is usual, to avoid hitting into anything on my dodgy distance judgement right-hand side; really taking my time.

And Shaking-Shaun attacked! I stood a moment as the tea ran down my pyjama legs, and the bruise on my toe where the mug landed, began to sting a bit, I exhaled some air, stuck out my bottom lip, and felt a little like crying, at first! 

But no! Within seconds a Siver-Lining came to me! I was flabbergasted to find that the delicate China mug was not broken, not even cracked! This cheered me up for some reason, cheered me up, revitalised my spirits, and galvanised me into realising that I am a lot better off than so many others. Things seemed to get lighter in my mind! And a touch of guilt at getting down in the first place. Even when I hit my head against the bookcase when cleaning up the mess, struggled up with BPB stinging away, there was no suppressing my (no doubt temporary), uplift in my attitude. It brought me back to being me! (I just reread this paragraph, it seems a bit heavy? It was how I felt, though!

I got the sorting-out done and took one extra codeine tablet (BPB and the head clouting) As I got on the computer, the Hum was growing louder, and that noise, like a machine or motor starting up from somewhere higher in the building, sounded. But this did not bother me, I realised that I am lucky to be here, to hear it! (Some deep stuff flowing on the keyboard, here?)

Onto CorelDraw, I did a graphic or two for the future templates, of some Thoughts.

Then on to updating the Saturday post. Which, thanks to Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters being kind to me, did not take too long at all today. SSS was doing her best to cock things up, and she had moderate success. Can’t win em all!

After a quick look at the emails, I found the latest Covid figures, I sent the blog to WordPress, emailed the link, and Pinterested a couple of photos. Then, onto Facebooking. This took a long time, but the TFZer site is a pleasure.

The wee-wees were slowing down (frequency-wise) and had changed mode into a PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode, with each one showing CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble). Variety be the spice of life?

Went on the WordPress Reader, some fantastic nature photographs posted today. Then read the comments, and replied. Lots in today, so that cheered me up, too!

I collated the last few days of the Boot’s made in China Sphygmomanometer SYS results, photographs. 178, 184, 189, and this morning down to 169, which is of some comfort, although still too high. I have a nurse coming tomorrow to do the blood tests, I’ll see what Monday’s results are like, and show them to her and ask her advice on whether to fret or not. Hehehe!

Back onto CorelDraw to get some day-of graphics done.

Five hours later, Humph! It was time to get the ablutions done, so I will have time to get Josie’s meal done in time. Not that she’ll be ready, she’ll be on the phone to her sister. Hahaha!

Back in a while. TTFN…

I went to the kitchenette to clean the tea mug. A few bits of snow had fallen, but it seemed to be clearing already.

Ablutions Report: Well, when I got in the wet room, I saw the stains on the shower floor, and set about having another go at lessening them. I sprayed them with the cleaner and left them to soak while I did the teeth and shaving.

The teeth cleaning went well. The Nasal-cleaning, there was a speck or two of blood, but I suspect that this is from the burst blood-vessel in my left eye. The shaving created only two tiny nocks on the chin. All good really!

Then I got on my knees with the scouring pad, and I gave it some elbow trying to clean the marks on the floor. Not successful, but I think I made a slight impression, then again when I looked it was all steamy, Hahaha!

Getting back up again, I did manage to clout my right knee on the sock-glide, and poor Cartilage Cathy let me know she was not happy about this!

The showering has not gone so well for ages. No Balance-Loss-Brian, Dizzy Dennis, SSS, or Accifauxpas attacks! A definite Smug-Mode engaged!

I was well-pleased with how good the plates and pins were looking.

As I got preparing Josie’s nosh, I seemed to turn into an industrious-mode? I planned everything to be ready at the same time, used the little timer, too! (dropped it twice, it’s a miracle it’s still working!) Made-up some waste-bags in between tweaking and checking the cooking.

Everything was done and served up. And delivered at the agreed time of 12-Noon! Spot-on the dot.

Josie answered the door and seemed pleased with what she saw on the tray. That’s good enough for me!

Back in the rubbish tip… I mean, flat, and got the washing up done. Those cheesy-mashed-potatoes don’t-half stick to everything. All washed and dried, well not one of the saucepans that I’d missed or forgot about. I found that later on with some peas I’d left in it. Tsk!

I took the bags to the rubbish chute, no signs of life to talk to. (Which is probably an advantage for any poor sod, when I start rattling away!)

Then nipped down in the lift to drop some bits off for Jenny, Doris and Frank. Back up to the 12th-floor and home to the flea-pit. Again, not a soul was seen, let alone one willing to let me natter with them. Hahaha!

When I got on the computer, the coughing started again, a bit of a sore throat now, as well. Booted up the computer, and as I did, the rumblings and agitational gurgling started from within. I anticipate rushing off to the Porcelain Throne shortly.

I was happy with the Graphic progress that I’d made—still, a lot more to get done yet, though. I’ll give it another bash before the ‘After-Twelve’ weariness arrives.

Managed to get two done before the eyes started drooping.

I must get some nosh sorted out… Oh dear, The innards are getting overly active with the grumblings? (But nothing happened) Again, hunger was not there. I recently opted to have some tasty Marmite sarnies, and Frazzles, the thought of the tasteless, or rather odd-tasting fodder. I dug out some sweet-tasting stuff sides, but it was a disaster. The Marmite Sarnies and Frazzles I could taste reasonably well. But the sweet stuff, after one bite of each, ended up in the bin.

The innards still seemed to be brewing-up inside, as I washed up and got my head down in the c1968 recliner, put the TV on, not that I saw any of it, for Sweet Morpheous blessed me, and I was off into a deep sleep, with the headphones and glasses still on, within minutes!

A couple of hours later, would you believe it? The unwanted door chimes rang out, repeatedly! It seemed whoever was there was in a rush and keen to get my attention, which they did!

Getting up half-asleep, the glasses and headphones pulled off of my head and fell down somewhere. I fumbled for the spectacles, and the chimes persistently continued.

Now I thought there might be a fire on the floor or something else dangerous, and balance all awry I got to the door ASAP. Guess who it was? Josie returning the cutlery plate and tray from her meal!

I was so, well, angry that she would do this again to me! This emotion dissipated almost immediately after thinking it. I felt guilty, she always does this! No matter that I beg her not to, and tell her the hassle it causes. I’ve said to her repeatedly; ‘Please do not call me after three o’clock, unless it’s an emergency’. But realised she does not mean to, her memory is worse than mine, bless her.

Frustrated, but no longer irritated, I bade her farewell, dropped the things in the kitchen, and mounted the recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. Who of course was pissed-off with me now, and refused to play ball for hours before I eventually drifted off. At least I got several hours of kip in, but it was fragmented. (Is that the right word?)

12 thoughts on “Incursiveless Inchies, Sunday 3rd January 2021 Dairy

  1. The sum of your SYSes over the past few days: 178 + 184 + 189 + 162 = 713. I looked it up and not a damn thing worth writing down for history’s sake happened in 713. I was thinking there might be some significant historical event associated with 713. But nada. However, when I looked up the significance of 713. It turns out to be and Angel number, with the following explanation:

    “What’s the Significance of Angel Number 713?

    When angel number 713 keeps coming your way, the Universe is passing a message of change. Be ready to undergo some transformation.

    The changes coming your way are not easy. They will not be a walkover. This does not mean, however, that you should be scared.

    Rather, angel number 713 is a sign that the divine realm is giving you a heads up.”

    So keep your head up and move as much as you can given the active ailments.

    It looks like you did a great job on Jose’s meal. You’s was rather monochromatic.

    • Angel number 723, Mmm? (My blood Angel is coming today) on her ID card, it ends in 713? (If Hristina comes)
      So, heads up from Angel 713, that gives me hope, Tim. Thanks.

      The loss of taste has done me for eating, until it improves. I’m not even had a mug of teas in the 5 hours I’ve been up… yet.
      Mind you, I’ve spent two of them battling with the toilet that dosen’t want to take my evacuated product, and it keeps reappearing? I’m all flushed out!

      Thnaks Tim, all the bestest.

  2. Perhaps you could compare your blood-pressure machine with a trusted one. It would be just like a Gremlin to add additional numbers to a BP reading of 154, gremlins…Grrrr
    Good of your foot to break (brake?) the fall of the teacup, rather than to have it break into chards at the floor. Just a thot. Hahaha
    Fragmented kips — a curious thing there. I think of sleeping as akin to defragmenting a computer’s memory, perhaps it is where thought-storms engage in battle?
    Wishing you longer kips, Sir!

    • That’s an idea, Billum. When I eventually get permission to go out, and this should be soon, for the Virus jab, I’ll take the BP just before I leave, the nask the murse if she would do it on her machine. Damed good idea, Sir. Of course, I’ll not forget to do this when the time arrives (Ahem!)

      Now there was miracle of sorts with mug, mate. The last one of the same tyoe that I broke, shattered to smithereens, and was dropped from four feet lowerer?

      Your assessment of the Thought-Storms, could well be spot-on, too! Is nopt the brain a computer? Well voiced… well, written, Sir!

      Your wishes helped by the by, bless you, I got five hours in last night… Ta-Daa!

      Go forth in peace, contentment and betterer health, if you don’t, I shall complain to someone!
      All the best!

      • Hoping that the BP reader unmasks the gremlin in the works, timing that with a virus decovidal is also good. If I think of another benefit to add, we’ll have a hat-trick 🙂
        I *thought* that was the same kind of teacup that landed on a desk corner or such,
        “Favorite cups make the cuppa proper”
        — for some reason, my mind cranks out ad copy, possibly something I picked up during the nine years I worked at Procter and Gamble. P&G World Headquarters is about 7 miles away from here. 🙂
        Thought storms are what Lisa and I call them now too. An apt way to describe them, innit?
        *Always* glad to help with sleep hours. Lisa, ever and anon the night owl, is sleeping as I write. 5:20 here 10:20 there. I think she was up about 28 straight hours. But so it goes.
        Vaccine distribution is off to a snail’s crawl over here. But the rabbit is sleeping, so the snail might…no that was a tortoise. Garbleberries!

      • A hat-trick indeed, of worhtiness ridden good thoughts, of hopes, is justtheticket, Billumski. He’s the RCRC controller you know… oh, oh course you do, you’re him. Haha!

        P & G, that took me back Billumski, to TEsco about 1968ish, I was under-manager of the Tesco store in Nottingham, only one shop then, they have over 66 now in Notts! Every month the PG and Lever reps woul arrive, desperate to earn the bonus bu keeping the sales increasing. The back-handers I got from them, probably added up to more worth than my wages! A true battle. that continues today. SAh, memory promted again by you, Sir!

        Where was I? Oh, yes… gorrit now. Thought Storms, glad to have you sharing the name, Lisa and Bullum. I’m very similar to our Lisa’s (hope you don’t mind sharing). As you know, I usualy awake around midnight or so.
        Bujt getting and trying to stay awake is difficult in the first place, phone, intercom, someone at the door… Can’t blame them, it’s me who is the odd one out here with my sleep pattern… wasn’t he a General?

        Love your views, its a from of coping you do well, Sir.

        Manyh of out residents have had their jab, I still await the Doctors surgery to contact me. I’m not overly anticipatory – is that a word? The spell-checker thinks not, Swine! Haha! Barblegerries!

        I can report that eight red cars were on site yesterday. Is this allowed?

        TTFN, may rest dawn upon you.

  3. Yes indeed, P&G — Procter and God, as we used to call it from within the behemoth. They were only interested in maintaining or acquiring operations that could generate at least $1 billion in sales. Becoming “redundant” is also something I’ve experienced quite a few spectacular times — another thing we have in common, mate! Reinvented myself a number of times in the process, but I like knowing that no one has followed the same curious weaving paths, that we are all and each unique that way. Lisa has probably told you about the synchronicities where our paths merged in remarkable ways. By a great stroke of fortune, Lisa and I are quite different sorts but the yin and the yang need opposite types to harmonize well. And now we are blessed at meeting a fellow soul and kindred bloke in the realm of Nottingham.!
    A squeak on the floor is enough to yank Lisa out of full REM state. But a squeak can bring her out of an enormous series of recurring Thought Storms.

    • You put that well, Billum.
      With Shaftesburian undertones, indeed.
      Our commonimities do grow, Sir. (And why not!)
      Mayhaps the squeaky floor, doeseth some good and bad at the same time.
      Great news coming in the Wenesday blog – Borhter in law Pete’s cancer, is officially in remission!
      Grrreat! He sent me a photo of his hair growing, and I will make a (funny) graphic of it to show on Thursday,s IT.

Leave a Reply