I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.