Inspired by this morning’s moon
After a weird night of waking ups with a jump, jerk or both, I gave up. Went into the kitchen to see what cold drinks I had in there. And spotted the orange moon and took several shots of it. Only this one is decent.
Tended to the , and was pleasantly pleased with the lower SIA, SIA and Pulses.
The body temperature was yet again, once more, within a point of the NHS figure, at 34.4°f.
Down near Amber zone again. ♫ Up, down, flying around, looping the loop and defying the… ♫, or whatever it is. I left the writing off of the NHS graphic wot I had done, on purpose for a change, like. I forget why.
Eventually, I found the sunglasses, hidden in plain view, not with other spectacles, but in the three-wheeled trolley walker basket. I’d even put them in a clear semi-see-through class case, so I would find them easily enough when I got things ready to go to the Riverside Centre. Ahem!
Had a quick wash, shave and shower. Four little nicks in shaving, teeth bleeding, a visit from SSS (Shuddering- Shoulder-Shirley), , and A warning from EQ; “Don’t expect things to go right mush… the won’t!” Which really was no surprise to me, not after the last five days of mayhem!
I’m afraid the last eight lines written on the remember-pad mean nothing to me. Utter twaddle, I wish I could make out what they were meant to say cause it must have been something emotional; judging by the state of the handwriting, I was uptight. Another Mystery!
Got the things in the trolley checked. Hearing aid batteries, sunglasses and a bottle of water were in there. I started to check the flat… Talk about Taps, lights, heaters, oven, fridge & freezer doors, windows… some of these checked several times. Eventually, I forced myself to stop reviewing things, and I got down in the lift to the main foyer: to await the Link Transport.
This is when I realised I’d left the paperwork upstairs. Too late to go back up… Th minibus arrived moments later. As told me to, I got the bus pass shown to the driveress and learnt that I could not use it, and the trip will cost me £9 each way due to the distance we had to go. She helped me into the bus, got me seat-belted, and off on a mystery tour to Bulwell. I was not surprised it cost me so much, the route taken.
We arrived at the Riverside complex, and the lady came in with me to make sure I was in the right place. Bless her.
I met with the tutor, Nathanial, who gave me to another patient who got me up in the lift to the room on the first floor I needed.
As we entered the room, there were about Diabeteites sitting around, maybe twenty or more. The room was cavernous, and I could not hear a word spoken. The sun shone through into So, I couldn’t see much either. This was not going to be workable at all.
Then the hearing aid batteries both gave up the ghost at the same time. I felt a right fool. Sat there, not taking part in anything that was going on. Well, I couldn’t see much and could hear even less!
With the collection of hearing aids on the table and trying to fit the batteries, which was a farce! I dropped them and the hearing aids several times – rescued by the good-natured common folk around me, and one of the men took pity on me and got the new packet of hearing aids and fitted them for me. The batteries were dead as a dodo?
The same chap took a look, and we discovered that the batteries had a use-by date of 2018. My embarrassment knew no limits! Humiliated, frustrated, and suddenly so confused.
The chap helping me was an Angel in disguise. He said to give him the money, and he would nip to the chemist in the building and get some batteries for me. I thanked him, gave him a fiver, and sat in silence, pretending to understand what was going off!
The man returned, giving me the fiver back. He’d got some from the Health Unit for me, bless him. Then, he fitted the new ones for me when he saw me struggling to see to get them in.
I gave out an involuntary loud verbal burst; “Ah, voices! I hear voices!” Which got a laugh, even a clap from someone I think I heard!
But things didn’t work out well after all that help from my fellow sufferers. For this reason alone, I intend to try and work something out that can help me hear better, so I can continue with the sessions.
The difficulties after getting the aids working, I must thank the two gents who helped me out before I forget to.
As Nathanial moved around between the ‘L’ shaped desks talking to us all, as he spoke in the other direction, I could not hear a word he was saying, and the sunshine rays made sure I couldn’t even see the chap. So it was farcical trying to take part.
The tutor was staying behind to give the two of us who missed the first lesson an update on the first. I can’t even see to read the booklets either.
Depression fell. And I said as kindly as I could, “I’m sorry, this is not working. I’ll have to go; thanks for trying”
As I embarrassingly left the room, the flooring in the lift lobby nearly made me feel giddy. Why? I could hardly see the patterning on it… something seemed not right. Which was probably due to my eyes?
I can’t recall taking this photo at all. Can’t imagine any reason for my doing so?
I felt awful for leaving. But the whole episode had got me feeling so nervous and low in spirits. Confidence is at an all-time low. I self-pitied as I walked out of the building and into the 94°f heat. “Will anything ever work out right for me again?” Living with Cataract Cathy, Peripheral Neuropathy, and Deaf Dennis is bad and hard socially. But Dementia Doreen was to blame for 75% of all the cock-ups and embarrassments I’ve suffered so far today. (But there were so many more to come that I didn’t know about yet… but always half-expect nowadays, every day! I wish some Doctor would read this and offer me some form of help or hope!
I’m becoming an inept gibbering wreck here.
I suffered a mind-blank period once outside the building; when I realised that through my leaving early, I’d have a while to wait for the lift.
The next thing I recall is being in the Bulwell Pound shop, about 50 yards or so from the Riverside Centre. I became aware of this lapse, yet not too concerned at the time. I had in my thee0wheeler trolley basket some bird seed cakes. Obviously, I’d seen the birds on the banks of the river Lean across the road and thought I’d feed them and have a natter. So, I bought the sees and fed the birds. I had to rush a bit to get back to the centre in time for my lift!
As I entered the hallway to the other end, she was coming down the stairs, and I knew it was her when got near enough. The gal didn’t look bothered about me not being there when she arrived, so I wasn’t sure if I’d upset her or not. She got me fitted in the minibus again, and we set off. She told me that Hucknall Road had been blocked off, so we needed to find another way back.
In my mind, I thought, ‘good’, we can take a shorter route back, hopefully costing less. Hehe!
I suggested taking Highbury Vale, and we did. At a pedestrian crossing, we pulled up to have a birds-eye view of a bit of road rage. I didn’t see the incident that cause it. A bloke on an E-scooter, apparently with a girlfriend of wife on it with him, approached the car driver and kicked and thumped his vehicle. The Chap got out of his car, and fisticuff positions were adopted! The driver eventually got back in his car. The scooter man got his female in front of him on the E-scooter, then changed his mind and ran back to the car, thumping the windows again. The driver waved him away and drove off. E-scooter man should not have anyone else on the scooter with him anyway… should he? And it was a privately owned one that technically is not allowed on the public roads?
We got home, even with the altercation to gals us, a lot quicker than taking the £9 route we took to get to Bulwell.
The lady dropped me off in front of the entrance of the flats. Bless her. As she was helping me off of the bus, the mobile phone made a noise, I didn’t hear it but the driver did. She read it, a message “Feet Today!” I thanked the ‘Link’ driveress.
And inside up to the apartment in great haste! The text was from the Chiropodist in the hair salon. I’d either not put the appointment in my calendar or done it for the wrong day. Dementia Doreen strikes again! Got some note reminders on the notepad for use on here, stripped off of the sweaty clothing, got fresh ones on, and the slippers. And down to have feet tended to. Which drew blood this time.
The foot gal was not pleased with me being late, I think. The toenail cutting was painful enough and rushed, obviously. I apologised for being late and tried to explain why. I don’t think she was impressed at all. So I gave them both their choice of drinks from the trolley basket. Hehe! Paid the bill, and I departed. Thought I’d drop some plonk off for the Wardens, but the office was closed, so I didn’t.
Back up to the flat. Got the slippers off, and the feet looked rather suave, no... that’s not the right word, calm, that’ll do.
Apart from the cut toe, of course. A case of Chiropodists’ revenge?
I took this photo of the view from the kitchenette in the searing heat. Although, according to the computer, it was down to 81°f now.
Got onto the computer to make a start on this blog. Got the photos on first to use later in the gallery. The day had taken a lot out of me, and my eyes were drooping.
So I closed the computer down. The plan was to get something to eat, then after the Evening Carer has been, to get my head down and hopefully wake up and have time to start finishing this blog.
A meal with a difference tonight. The use-by today vegetable risotto, and the use-by yesterday fresh chips. Nothing else.
And it went down a treat! The taste rating given was 8,8/10!
The lad seemed a smidgeon more with it tonight. I asked him if he knew how to adjust the colouring background on the mobile, but nope. We did have a mini-natter, however.
Then I got my head down. Amazingly, I was soon off in the land of Nod. But will I wake up in time to get this blog done?
11 thoughts on “Friday 12th August 2022: Diary & Odeing”
That was quite an adventure. Hearing aid batteries are impossible when you can see and have nimble fingers. Almost got your toe cut off. She’ll teach you to be late. Decent looking meal.
Not one of my successful days, was it, Tim? Then again, I had one at 09:30hrs (approx.) on August 27th 1960… no, 1962, that I remember well. I lost my whatsit to Christine, a year older than I, neighbours daughter. I’d no idea what we were doing, I just enjoyed it, it remoimnged then og the various never seen before or after so-called Aunties who abused me, so wonderfully! Hehehe! ♫Those were the days, my friend…♫
A vivid description of the hopeless, hapless crew at the diabetes learn-a-thon. Everyone there would far rather be anywhere else. I like the fellow who selflessly made a run for the hearing-aid batteries, whether they worked or not, his spirit was genuine. A camaraderie of sorts?
“attempted toe castrationing” — what an image that evokes, the bleeding bandage tells all. A very good idea to provide a warning for readers. Haha!!
The e-scooter charade was well related, I can see the bloke “kicking and thumping” that vehicle and the two of them raising their fisticuffs in response. Another great description that brought on a satisfying larf. I fanketh yer, Sir.
“Feet today” — no fête du jour. Methinks.
Afternoon, Billum. (well, here anyway, Hehehe!) A sort, that chap was, I hope I recognise hin at the next meeting, othank him properly.
I’m afraid not Sir, no partying here… apart from the near-parting of the toe from the foot. Hahaha!
A laugh-shared is ten-time better than one not shared… I think…
Afternoon, exactly what we are experiencing at the Manor as it were — a favorite time for Night Owl Petal to sleep on a cloudy Sun-day.
I hope you recognize that kind chap, too.
“near parting of the toe from the foot” is most certainly what happened.
From a 1950’s song:
“How was I to know there was a party going on.”
Splishing and a splashing…Haha!!
Shared laughs: the gold standard. 🙂
Ah, the Night Oweless. SM in attendance? Good!
The Doctor ignores me. The Dentist not interested. The chiropodist who wants to becom a surgeon and does her training on me, (Hehe), The Optician who’s only interest os £$. Thank heavens for the DVT and Haematology Nurses Sandie and Hristina. ♥
That song, did it have Splishing & a splahing al night in it, Billum. I seem to recall that bit. Upbeat tune, can find it’s name on Google.
Dhared laughs… am essentail part of coping methinks.
May I forward the serrtest thoughts and bestest wishes to the Manor Clan. I fank you!
You’ve put together an excellent cast of characters for a Theater of the Absurd play: Waiting for Go Dot?
Splish Splash was by Bobby Darin, 1958.
On YouTube (if the link works):
I sall haveth a lool laterer, if YouTube comes back on. Got a message telling me the ‘Computer could not reach summat at this time’ or other? I will not be beat!
Cheers. I liked some of his songs.
Bobby Darin was all over the radio in that era, a big heartthrob as I recall. Well, it’s been a few years since the 1950’s. We were only turning three in 1950: an important factoid?
♫ Every night I sit here by my window, looking a the lonely avenue… ♫