Luckily, I’m well on my way… just a few more million to make! Hehehe!
FRIDAY 11th FEBRUARY 2020
04:14hrs, I gave up on getting any sleep, another night of waking-ups with a start. Hey-ho! Raising up my Titanic-like flabby body from the old c1966 recliner, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, but it was nowhere near as urgent as Thursday mornings. Off to the wet room.
The evacuation was messy again; I’ll take another Galpharm later on. I decided to get the Ablutionings done while I was in there. I was doing so well, no teeth pains or breakages, only one tiny nick shaving, and got on with the showering.
Nothing was going to get me down today! I was singing or humming to myself, I believe. Feeling pretty perky… Until I took a tumble, hitting my bone-dome against the control box on the way down. The WC was utilised to get me back up on my tootsies. However, as I dried myself off and did the medicationings, I was definitely singing some Adam Faith songs, as I recall.
Even dropping the olive oil bottle, which did not break and hit my foot, did not get me bothered! No inclination to go into a Smug-Mode, and still I was singing away. I was on ♫ The Time has Come ♫ as I tackled creaming Harold’s Haemorrhoids. There is no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion, so I just put some Germolene on things. Far less painful! The knees were of no bother much; Cartilage Cathy and Arthur Itis were both as good as gold.
I got some socks on today. I didn’t use the dreaded sock-glide, but I got them on manually. Even that went rather well! Then it was stinging a bit but hardly really painful.
I got the new jumper on… well, it was new a couple of years ago, I got fully dressed, and I was still in a reasonable frame of mind. Which was strange?
I was doing amazingly well today? Got the laundry bag out ready for collection. I even remembered the laundry needed to be assembled for the Carer to collect and that she was due shortly.
To the kitchen, I took an early morning snap of the view from the window. It came out alright too. All this good luck is very worrying, you know! It had to come to an end. Tsk! I gave myself a half-decent toe-stubbing on the server wheels.
I utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in China Blood Pressure Monitor this time. SYS 140, Dia 59, Pulse 82. Checked on Google, it said: Your blood pressure reading of 140/59 indicates Hypertension Stage 1. It is the lowest form of high blood pressure. Which suits me! Above 90 is considered high. So, the pulse is just fine! Smug-Mode-Adopted!
Checked the Temperature result on the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer; 32.9°c: Mr Google got me concerned by telling me, “Body temperature below 95°F (35°C) is considered abnormally low, and the condition is known as hypothermia. This happens when your body loses heat faster than it can produce heat. Hypothermia is a medical emergency, which, if left untreated, can lead to brain damage and cardiac failure. But, the body reading has been in the 34/5 range for months now? Hey-ho!
Got the computer on, and Windows updates came in. I clicked on Update-Now and went for a wee-wee. When I got back, I had a green screen, full of what was to me gobbledegook, gibberish and confusing code of some sort, mixed in with the English language, I think. Oh dearie me! I got the camera to take a photo of the waffle, and it disappeared?
I turned it off, and waited awhile, then restarted it. The exact original message about a Windows Update came back on? I clicked on update and reboot. Which it did. Confusionableits! My brain was williwaw ridden! Things seemed to be working, so I pressed on and started updating yesterday’s blog.
Carer Helen (I think) arrived very late. This is perfectly understandable, as she has the laundry to do, so left me till last, saving her walking around with a bag of dirty clothes. Fair enough! She was in a good mood, and we had a mini-natter and raised a few laughs and smiles.
I spent the next, wait for it… six and a half hours, of making a mistake after errors, trying to use the computer! What happened soon took away my temporary Smug-Mode, and brought on annoyance, self-pity and depression. That’s how it hit me! What happened? I’ll tell yer…
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, who has been really kind to me for several days compared to usual, his nerve-ends played up like never before. There were times when contact was lost and back again so fast, I think I could feel the nerves trying to contact the brain… on and off, off and on… No wonder I’m struggling so with typing. They alternated at sometimes in milliseconds. Shit, it’s doing it again now.
Over the hours, the many hours I’ve spent losing the battle, I’ve dropped a mug of tea, lost finger end contacts on the right-hand several times, no… many times. They returned to communicating with the brain when I having a wee-wee, suffice to say that when this happens, my fingers have the strength of Goliath, and anything I’m holding is done with a grip of iron, and I have to wait, only a few seconds, for the nerve ends to settle. Of course, gripping Little Inchie was terrible timing and painful for me. It brought tears to my own eyes! I am sure I swore loudly, the ‘B’-word, several times in the few seconds I waited to release Little Inchie.
I’ve been trying for a further few hours, but the thinking and writing are hard work, although the nerve breaks seem to be getting less frequent. Then again, there is no consistency to the problem. Let’s face it, I had a good four-hours straight, with the nerve-ends working… or at least I didn’t get any bother from them anyway, earlier in the morning.
No wonder I was so resilient and chirpy, looking back at things.
Tsk! I found the brain was resistant to work for me as well. I’ve just found these photos I can’t remember taking; never mind putting them on file? Well, not the cloud one.
I think I took the end car park early on, cause it’s so dark. I vaguely recall doing it the more I look at it. The one above from the kitchen window… the memory is blank.
Not only these, but I also found this, a macro snap, the first I’ve ever tried. I wonder if I lost some of it when the windows update cocked things up? I was sure I’d put it in the blog earlier, really early in the day?
The Carer is due in about an hour; I’ve not had anything to eat and am feeling, well, not poorly, but uncomfortable, nervous. I’m going to get some food done.
I struggled a bit with getting the food prepared. It took me a good while to get the nosh cooked and served up. At least Peripheral Neuropathy nerve-ends began to settle a little. Getting back, I hope to the random scene of touch loss, which is easier to live with.
Over the half-hour or so, I took these sunset pictures, rapidly getting darker with each shot I took.
Getting the meal served onto the tray, it dawned on me; I’ve not taken a wee-wee for about an hour now! Amazing!
The cheese, leek & potatoes Pukka pie was delicious. Another mixture of three types of tomatoes: yellow, straight red, and brown. All tasty in their own way. Chips, I used some oddments left in bags in the freezer, canned garden peas. A pot of orange jelly and some spray cream were taken for dessert. A Taste Rating of 7/10.
After eating and washing up the pots, it was time for my TV viewing; My favourite, Heartbeat, had come on Channel Ten. Naturally, I fell asleep at the first set of commercials.
The door chime ringing out ♫”Oh, Susana”♫ woke me up, and Carer Helen came in. The gal seemed a little vacant as we pretended to chinwag. No interest really, bless her. She’s returned the washed and folded laundry and had more for other people outside the door I discovered, so she was in busy mode, bless her. Said thank you, treated, and my farewells. Put the laundry in the other room, too tired to bother putting things away yet.
I gave up on watching Heartbeat, now there is a first! I was just too tired and took advantage, and fell asleep, in hopes of staying that way for a change.
But, no! Minutes after nodding off into blissful sleep, I needed a wee-wee. I utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and got back down in the c1966, none-working, rickety recline
I’d just nodded off again… and the landline burst into flashing! I fought my way out of the uncomfortable, grungy beige recliner, grabbed Metal Micky and got to the landline; “Hello?” No reply, but I think I could hear talking in the background… “Hello, can I help you?” No response, so I tried a third time… “Hello?” At which the receiver was noisily replaced at the other end of the line? Humph!
Sweet Morpheus had not heard my prayer, obviously. Back to the chair yet again… but could I get to sleep now? No! The Thought-Storms began, and they blasted away and lasted for a long time. As I’d found a cure for the virus, brought world peace, and reinstated the death penalty for murderers… I nodded off again.
It lasted for half an hour or so, and the ♫”Oh, Susana’♫ tune chirped up. By the time I’d got out of the recliner, stubbed my toe and got to the door, not surprisingly, there was no one there! I couldn’t see any message or notes put through the door… and almost sobbed on the way back to the recliner…
Nodded off soon enough, but woke up with a start – panicking that I’d left a tap running somewhere. (No logic to this, Vascular Dementia Doreen inspired, I think?) Checked the kitchen and wet room, both without any running taps (faucets), and back, wearily, to the recliner.
Unbelievable! I then needed to use the Porcelain Throne! Not only that, but it was another messy, gooey affair that cost me ages in cleaning up myself and the wet room furniture!
Finally, I drifted off once more. In the next five hours, I only woke up four times, which is doing better than of late.
On the next awakening, I was instantly gripped in a panic; “Had I left the oven on?” No choice for it, I had to drag my weary, flabby-bellied body in a clamber out of the recliner, and go to the kitchenette to check the oven! All was safe!
I returned, feeling anhedonia and self-annoyance, and decided not to bother getting back into the recliner. Got the kettle on the boil, and settled on the computer to update this blog… then, the belated wee-wees started…Granglesbognessbuggerit!
Inchcocks True Tales Of Woe