♥ The TFZer Garden of Love ♥
Care Home Sports – Hehehe!
Sunday 7th March 2021
Greek: Κυριακή 7 Μαρτίου 2021
00:00hrs: I stirred after sleeping for five-hours, but they were broken ones, disturbed by repeated wakings up, silly thoughts and nodding off again! Tsk! And a feeling of doom and gloom lingered in my tortured brain! Likely due to the series of dreams I’d been having!
I boldly heaved and puffed away, freeing my abdominous over-bellied aching body from the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, and rose up on my feet, to catch my balance. Argh! Both knees gave me pain; the right one, with Cathy Cartilage, was really keen and sharp! My hobbling was so slow and so carefully done after this. I realised and remembered then, the Morrison order delivered yesterday by the Amazon shopper! Me hobbling down to help him carry the stuff up to the flat. And the git just leaving all the bags in the front lobby of the building. The agony of all that walking and carrying brought thoughts of malice, hatred and revenge-seeking! Which soon dissipated, as I realised this is not my style! No matter how the chap treated me, hurt me, and caused me such discomfort, I must not lower myself to his and Amazon’s standards.
I was now feeling calmer in myself, although in pain still, thanks to the ignorant moron. (Whoops!) My mind was distracted (it does that a lot nowadays!), as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived… and a gaseous one too, judging by the escaping bubbles of air (I hope!) from the rear-end. So, I made my way to the wet room with all available haste!
I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate; no sooner had the PP’s come down, the action started! Trotsky Terence’s revenge! Short, smelly, sticky, gooey… but no bleeding from anywhere at least! And just two flushes needed to free the bowl of the evacuated product! Mind you, I was amused to see after the second pull, bubbles continued to come back up from underneath the water in the porcelain for a few minutes. I took this photo of them, but they do not show up much on it. I swear I could hear a sort of gurgling noise as they came to the surface?
The cleaning up needed and medicating took me along time. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were very sore. A dollop of Phorpain gel was rubbed into the knees. And I realised that I had been sleeping, wearing the bamboo diabetic socks on last night! A ‘No-No’ that is! I pulled them down to see if the muscles in the leg had gone soft, and they really had! Naughty, Inchcock, stupid, Inchcock! I’m not going to bother to take them off now, though; I’ll do it later when I handwash them with the shirt. I do feel a fool – I’ve never done that before? I must have an advice notice somewhere about what to do if you do sleep in the hosiery. I recall getting one from the neurologist at the Mary Potter clinic? I may have to get help in searching for it, Hehe!
I went through to put the kettle on and a wash-up… Unglefrogwogglings & Thunderbogworthyness Idiot! I’d left the hot water tap running again! Stone cold! I’ll miss doing this when I snuff it! Hehehe! But I was so angry with myself!
Instant Ode assembled: I made a brew to drink and stew, but what can I do? Doomed, I will be! Deaf, can’t hear running water and cannot wee-wee! In pain and pissed-off with me! I’m a social outcast, an old logicality-abortee! Not a good rhyme, but it flowed out easily enough at the time!
I nipped out on the balcony to take a shot of the view. But the Canon camera does no do night shots very well, as you can see with the results of my photographicalisationing!
I’m not sure what I changed on the camera or how I did it if I did. But the ratio came out different to the usual wide mode? As I checked on the selector on the camera, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had a go at me, and I turned the dial, so I could not identify which option I’d selected. Not that many of them mean anything to me.
I returned to make the brew of Glengettie tea, passed wind, considered if I needed to return to the Throne, decided not, and got the Health Checks done. At least these photos came out in the proper ratio-shape?
The body temperature was 36.4°c – 97.5°f, but I cannot access the Excel log record because Microsoft was updating again and wouldn’t give me access!
I think it was better than yesterday, anyway.
The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, worked for the first time today. Revealing a high SYS of 170, SIA at 80, and the Pulse down to 85.
I got on with updating the Saturday Diary, not that much needed doing. I soon had it all finished.
I went to the NHS BP site and input my figures. Oh, dearie me! Way-up in the red today!
Today my BP was well in the red!
Perhaps, I might be dead?
I wish someone had said! Hehehe!
Hopefully, a nurse should be calling on Monday to take my Warfarin blood test; I can point it out to her if she’s not too busy.
No chance of getting through to the Doctor… well, I might, but I only get recorded messages about Covid. Then, the ringing tone, followed by another recorded message telling me they are getting an extraordinarily high volume of calls, please ring back later!
I know, I’ll ask them to bury me with a printout of the HP figures, providing Microsoft will allow them access, then they can read them too late to save my life, the high numbers involved? Good idea? Oh, damn! I’m being cremated, ain’t I! Hahaha! It’s such a warm, comforting feeling, knowing one is so cared for in one’s dotage and psychoneurosis years, innit?
Then, I emailed the link for the diary off. Pinterested some photos and went on Facebooking catching-up. I started sneezing repeatedly, and a few shivers went through me. Hello, what’s going on here?
Then, I visited the WordPress Reader Section. This post was incredible; here is the link:
An excellent parody song on this one. And a link to an older one, too; cleverly performed! You should like both of these, for the tune and Spunk, the pussy cat antics with a mouse!
I went on the WP comments reading and answering.
Soon be time for the Ablutions to be done, I’ll have a mug of Glengettie tea and a nibble, methinks.’
Ablutions: A remarkably calm, almost injury-free session. Fewer dropsies than usual! Nasal, teeth cleaning, even the shaving was cut-free! The showering smooth and safe. The medicating went just as well. However, getting dressed proved painful! Only two accifauxpas (but they felt like dozens!) Hehe!
Getting the socks on, I actually felt proud of not using Sock-Glide-Glenda. But wish that I had afterwards! Two tumbles, one for each sock! Stopping the bleeding from the hip where I hit on my way down took a while and much medicating. The left-leg fiasco had me going backwards and sliding slowly down the door! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not pleased in the least! Ah, well! Oh, the sleeping in the bamboo socks had left me with some new blotches. The old ankle-ulcer wound was itching like mad! So, I put 100% cotton socks on today. Cathy Cartilage looked a bit temperamental, too! No wonder she’s giving me such jip!
I made a start on prepping Josie’s meal. Tomatoes, cheesy mashed potatoes as she likes them with plenty of Leicester cheese, well-buttered. And some Scottish Kippers with butter. A blotch of her favourite cheese, unopened so she can eat it anytime. A limoncello and strawberry dessert, and delivered it to her door. I wobbled a bit with the tray as I sneezed and spilt some butter from the kippers onto the tray as the gal opened the door. She was not impressed with me. Also, when I got back, I’d forgotten to photograph the meal! Ah, well, you can’t win em all!
I got in and sorted the eight black and blue bin bags. Then, I got them on the box with the others on the walker-trolley and off to the waste room. It was a deathly-quiet Sunday routine. But to perk things up a little, I trapped a finger in the cast-iron chute lid. I swore mildly and then returned to the apartment.
I got the handwashing done, only two pairs of long bamboo socks, and hung them above the kitchen sink to drip dry.
I moved the leek and potatoes from the crock-pot into a saucepan on the hob. They smelt good! Then got a ring-pull can of Stewed Steak, but as usual, things don’t go right for me very often! The ring-pull came away from the can! On the label, do not open this can with a can opener, hand or automatic – Use the ring-pull for access! Well, that advice was crap, then! I tried it nervously on the auto-opener, of course, but it didn’t work; the ridge was far too high for the blade. Now, what do I do?
I tried again at an angle; and was not sure if I’d drop the can, machine or both, but it worked somehow. This was mainly due to the respite from SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters). I went into a bit of Smug-Mode! Then poured the contents into the saucepan and added Best Bisto Gravy granules and an Oxo cube to the mix. Gave it jolly good stirring, and after a while, I had a taste… Not bad at all!
I gave Sister Jane, well, husband Pete, a ring. I felt sure it was this week that he had to go back to the hospital for a conference meeting with the doctor. Thought I’d cheer him up a bit first. But no, I was wrong again. It was Sister Jane’s turn this week! So I had a chinwag with her, but it was a farcical effort; we both seem to have hearing problems now. Hehe! Wished her well for the Doctors visit and chatted about nothing that mattered. But I enjoyed it, all the same.
Then I tried to get a slot with Sainsbury’s for next Thursday or Friday. But they only some free on Wednesday 10th March. I got an early one, 7>8am. Made the order and decided to start sorting my own meal out.
All the time and effort was well worth it. Although I spent a long time cleaning the pans first, it was still hot enough when it came to eating them. All it was, was a well season pot of canned stewed steak, potatoes and leeks. A flavour-rating of 8.8/10!
I put the pots and tray in the sink to soak overnight and settled to watch something on the TV. Ah, I remember now, it was ‘Kitchen Nightmares’.
The sleep soon came, but it was a sad night again; I was forever seeming to wake up, with dim memories of a terrible dream, but could recall nothing, other than the sensation that I was young again during the nightmares. I think they may have been repeating ones? Maybe not, though.
5 thoughts on “Impugner-Inchy, Sunday 7th March 2021 Dairy – Argh! Sundays!”
It would take me at least 3 to 5 years to put a jigsaw puzzle together. I’m happy you liked my posts, thanks for re-posting them. Your temp is good but the BP is “inching” back up (pun intended). Legs look good and nice night shots. Finally a decent meal. Looks good.
Marci, Mon Ami, Tim.
I’ll see which nurse arrives today, and if she isn’t too scary, I’ll ask her to ring the Doctors for me… maybe…
Good that Monday is here. Sunday brings a bit of retch, the BP gets so red that yer think yer dead. We call the medical officials and get a lengthy of numbers to select that promise to update us on the latest Covid-19 curiosities. Wotta Covid-controlled planet we live on. My bodily systems seem to function well in my post vaccination period, at the end of the week I receive my first infusers of Humira, curious to find how well it can tackle the Crohn’s beasties.
I need to inform Lisa of the 8.8 of 10 nosh-rating for Sunday survival. Looks to be the very kind of meal ingredients that strike her fancy. We should inquire at our equivalent of Morrison’s or Sainsbury’s for specifics. They should provide a nosh rating on the label. Now, they can reference past Inchcock Today ratings and provide a helpful label for afficianados of IT. Have yer thought of teaming up with “Kitchen Nightmares” for menu recommendations? Sunday seems like a good day to discuss Kitchen Nightmares at Woodthorpe Manor.
I am pleased to report to yer that tomorrow is *not* Sunday.
Great news with the Humira, Sir. I do hope things work out well and you get some relieve at long last… such an advisoralisticaly talented personage as yourself deserves a bit of luck!
T’was indeed an improvent in noshing statistics, Billum. (Slurp!)
A Kitchen Nightmare partnership? Me thinks not, Sir. I love finding the obvious planned and scripted scenes to boost his own moral. Also, during the last one I watched, they were sat (four people) at a table discussing things, somehow one chap had a different coloured shirt on as the stood and shook hands at the end?
You advice and confirmation that it is not Sunday, is much appreciated, Mon Ami.
Please passeth on my bestest wishes to HRM, for a peaceful, easier flwing day.
And a Humira successful responce, for your good, worthy self.
I thank you!