On his way home from the getting some cows heel and tripe for his Dad. As he was crossing the canal on the bridge on Wilford Street. A gang of teenage Herberts lifted him and unceremoniously threw him off the bridge into the canal! Being about six years of age, scared to death of water, and unable to swim (His fear was life-long, he still can’t). He struggled to grab hold of a barge rope hanging over the side of the boat but lost his grip, he got cold, and his fingers were not big enough to hold on… As he sank into the water, a pair of strong hands from a bloke in a rowing boat dragged him out and took him home. Where his father knocked the hell out of him for losing the tripe and cow heel, pointing out that the 2/6d (12.5p) cost would come out of his pocket money! Which baffled the lad a bit cause he never did get any pocket money from his Dad in his life?
SUNDAY 15th MAY 2022
05:15hrs, I begrudgingly woke and awaited the brain to join me. Which it did, with the message that I needed a wee-wee. I freed my cumbersomely large bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner. NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) took me a while due to the vast amount of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).
Dizzy Dennis kept going at me all morning long in short bursts. I got the waste bag sorted out and started prepping the veg to go in with Josies Chilli meal. Chopped leeks, carrots and peas.
Opened the can of Chilli and started adding the cooked vegetables. Put them in the saucepan and add squid vinegar (liquid salt), chilli powder, Worcester sauce, and malt vinegar. After testing the flavour, I can add gravy salts and tomato puree with basil.
Herbert is noisy again. Bloody Sundays and weekends, he’s always the same!
I visited the Porcelain Throne. A good job that the carer was so late because I must have been in the half-an-hour at least. Most of the time was spent cleaning and clearing up. Trotsky Terence was in charge again. You wouldn’t believe the amount of loo roll used! Tsk!
Got a good wash and showering done, I felt a bit better then. Coming out of the wet room, I got through the door, and by the fairer without a knock, shoulder slamming or toe stubbing.
A new carer came in without ringing the buzzer-chime, and of course, I didn’t hear her coming. Sarah, she’s not been before. Nice gal, but she didn’t take the waste bag with her, no problem. I can do that later with the next one to go. No problemo! Well, as long as Vascular Dementia Doreen lets me remember. Hehehe!
The photos went on through the card reader!!!! So I got the old ones on. Yesterday one here first. The state of the ankles as I came out from the shower yesterday. Not painful nor itchy, although they did later.
These on the right are what they looked like after this morning’s session at ablutioning. Not any different, really. Or are they, and Cataract Kathleen has missed something?
A morning photographicalisation from the kitchenette next. The bright sunshine on my face made it impossible to take a good one.
My evening, well, was the only meal of the day. Potato slices baked, tomatoes, crap tasting sugar snap peas. And gorgeous mushroom pate on a couple of baps. Taste Rating: 8.8/10!
These two were taken with a sort of foggy haze in the air. After seeing them, I thought they had a kind of gentle quality to them. That’s not what I mean, but as close to what I can explain. Peaceful, tranquil, they made me feel free from strife… of course, that didn’t last for long. But a good sensation while it lasted… I’m now awaiting the arrival of the next Whoopsiedangleplop. I pressed on with updating and posting the Saturday bog to WordPress. The Facebooking, WP Reader, and some WP comments are to read and reply to.
Herbert’s cacophony of banging, clanging and grinding noises continues.
A wee-wee, and back to the photos. I took this shot from the balcony. RVD (Red-Van-Man) is back, but the small red car has taken up his beloved parking spot on the yellow no-parking lines. Hahaha!
Time to start checking on and serving up Josie’s nosh now. On my way to the kitchen, ♫Oh, Susan♫ chimed out from the doorbell? Josie came to tell me that she was going out to a restaurant with her sister and didn’t need the meal! Well, blow me, fancy letting me know half an hour before I deliver the meal! But let’s face it, it’s much better than five minutes. Hehehe!
She said she could collect it tonight on her way home. So, I said I’ll put it in a big jar to let it cool, then you can place the container into your fridge; that’ll be two chillies to use later on. Josie added, “She’s (Her sister) has only just called me to let me know”.
Herbert just dropped something this time; it sounded heavy. I gave him a gentle tap on the piping with my walking stick. Not that it will do anything to help me get some peace. He is the most equanimous, unforthcoming, stand-offish person I’ve ever met. Superior Shithouse!
“Clunk, thud, ratattattatat!” That serves me right for getting annoyed. Then I kept getting scratching-like and knocking noises. I’m so sorry, Sir Herbert!
Two chilli meals in the container and some treats for Josie when she gets back from the meal with her Sister at the restaurant. I’ll get mine (meal) started now, then see if owt is on the TV cause the computer problems are driving me mad! (Of course, there are many other reasons, Haha!)
I put the potatoes and vegetarian burger in the oven, peas in the pan, chopped some mini tomatoes and got the TV on for half an hour while the burger and spuds baked. And put the TV on. To find the Ladies Cup Final was showing, and I got deeply into it, so interested that I forgot all about the cooking!
I fumbled out of the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968 recliner, got Walter the Wooden Walking Stick, and into the kitchenette. I nervously opened the oven door… The ‘bake for 30 minutes’ food had been in for nearly an hour!
The breadcrumbed veggie burger did not look appealing at all. It felt very hard. As expected, the potatoes were overdone; some of them, the smaller ones, were inedible and had to be thrown. Yet I ate all of it! Enjoyed it too! The burgers left in the fridge will get overcooked; it was firm and delicious! The spuds were tough to eat, and no doubt damaged a few of my remaining teeth, but it all tasted grand! Flavour Rating: 8/10! I hope Duodenal Donald and Harold’s Haemmorhoids can cope with it, and I get no toothache! Hahaha!
Cara Sara arrived, again not ringing the chime and giving me a shock when she entered the room. But a lovely surprise, she is tall, young, beautiful and charming. (Dang to old age! Har-har!)
Sweet Morpheus was again resistant to my requests for shut-eye! But, when he permitted me to nod off, I slept through without any jolting awakes for just under six hours! Great!
Friends Comments when I got shot (First-Time)
“Oh, yer?” An old schoolmate by the name of Elgin, “Could ‘ave been anyone!” fellow security officer Kathryn, “Tell me another!” My neighbour in Sherwood, Glyn, “Shit!” I forget his name, Welsh lad from Abergynolwyn, “Serves yer right!” The supervisor at control called Kelvin, “Why?” An old passion of mine, a big gal named Roslyn, “I wunt du yoor job!” Traffic Warden, called Edwin, “Tommy rot, yer tit!” Richard, but we called him Dick Turpin, “Will yer be off work?” Manager, we all called him Fagin! From the hospital, they sent me back to the site again… “Can yer drive yersen there, course you can!”… Fagin! “You can’t claim off of us!” Site manager, on arriving…
I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!
I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.
I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.
Turned on the computer…
Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…
I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.
This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!
From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.
The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.
Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!
When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…
2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.
I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.
I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?
I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.
I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.
I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.
The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.
Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!
Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…
I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.
Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.
Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!
Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.
I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.
After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!
Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!
Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.
It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.
I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!
Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.
I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…
I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!
4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.
So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!
Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.
I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!
17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!
Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy! I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.
Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.
Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.
I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.
Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!
This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.
But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!
ODE TO THE DAY
My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!
I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!
The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!
Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!
My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!
I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!
Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!
Today, when good luck and success ran away, Making me want to cry, die, and even pray! It’s this horrendously-heinous Wednesday! Very little humour, fun or flimflammery!
Problems of intense magnitude and stupidity… Errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, and I got all forgettery… Accifauxpas, mind-blanks, bonkerness and pettifoggery, So much so my mind requires mental surgery!
I ended up nervous yet showing frustrated badassery! The brain crumbled, the body tumbled… Nothing this day was of the slightest bit ordinary, Then the innards painfully rumbled… My last bit of willpower crumbled!
Self-hatred, for myself, and a vile loathing… So many failures, one in my underclothing! But that, I’m too ashamed to be describing, It had some occasions that were nice, touching… But they were scarce, and so many were scathing!
Computers I should know would mock and beat me… I thought I’d get the problem sorted, very foolishly! I’d never have mended it if I tried until next January… As I should have known, I just made things worse, I sobbed, got depressed, and voiced many a curse…
I thought at one time, I was growing insanity… Why am plagued by this unknown, unlucky entity? It started at birth… and has grown nasty, by plenty! In my previous life, was I a murderer, a scoundrel? Maybe…
When I’m burnt to ashes by the Brothers Baguley… I want my mourners to know, there’s no need for sorrow, At the moment, I’d be content, no, glad to go… Life’s always been a battle against the flow… I may miss cheesy potatoes, and bread, buttered sourdough, Carers like Julia and Jilly both leave me with an afterglow. ♥
Not enough to make me stay here, though! Life to me has been like at the Alamo… Surrounded, outnumbered and nowhere to go, Failings, errors, fretting, my life’s been so! I’d hoped things would improve, but no, oh, no!
Reincarnation? That would be hard to swallow, I might return as a soaring eagle or a brave buffalo? Or most likely a stickleback, mousse or minnow! See, that’s depression; I’m feeling so low…
And what’s to come later… death, maybe, yes or no, I’ll continue as a failed saddo and fatso… I’ll snuff-it, not bothered how maybe tomorrow? I’ll die never having had a cup of cappuccino! It’s been forty-odd years since I’ve been on a beano! My friends and family will gather to say cheerio… But there’s only three of them, so I don’t know…
They’ll search for my money, and they’ll be very thorough, Cupboards, drawers, clothes and behind the big photo… I don’t blame ’em; that’s how it will go… I can’t take it with me… I don’t mean to crow…
That’s summat else, why did I live life in a constant imbroglio? Calling things electrical, mechanical, complicated, a gizmo? Cause the Vascular Dementia Doreen said so? I had problems; I became an alcoholic, not wino… Which at the time for me, was no problemo!
I danced like a three-legged drunken rhino… The gal who said that was named Clio, Ailments, being shot, being made redundant did follow… Didn’t matter too much; life was already shallow… But I’ve always been that way, uneducated and callow…
With quips and replies, I’ve been sharp, never slow, I once nearly bought a second-hand Volvo… What that’s got to go with this Ode, I don’t know? I’m trying to live an inoffensive life, but whereunto? I’ve lost the plot now. Shall I make a cuppa? Righteo!
It took me that long to formulate this Ode, so many errors, mistakes, and Mind-Blanks! The time is running out for me to get the Diary bit done. So, it will be in condensed form, sorry!
WEDNESDAY 23rd FEBRUARY 2022
A great sleep once I managed to get off. Which was at about 02:00hrs. But, I was well pleased with only jump-waking up three times. On the third, it was already 06:10hrs! So, over four hours, not bad, that. I think the Hemp seems to be working.
As I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner, two things dawned on me. This morning is the Ocado food delivery twixt 6-7:00hrs, and Cartilage Cathy was still as bad as yesterday. So, I took a Codeine and checked that I had not missed any calls on the intercom – I feared I would not have heard it if he had come early while I was sleeping. No missed calls on the list, so that cheered me a little.
I got the medical checks sorted straight away. The body temperature was still too low. But what should I do? It might be the machine? They tell me to ring 999 if it is below 45°c? But it’s not far off this time.
There was no hassle about the Blood Pressure, though, all looking pretty good, with SIA 152. DIA 74. and Pulse at 80. This seemed fair to me. Glad the BP machine was working after my dropping it yesterday.
Into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, and I trod on something small and challenging – I guessed right, it was an escaped garden pea gone rock hard. Hehe! Made me jump a bit! I also found a tablet?
The intercom rang at 06:30hrs, and the Ocado driver brought the bags up to the flat. Nice chap.
Got the bags into the kitchen; there seemed a lot of them today?
Sorted out what’s what and where they are to go. The frozen Heinz Beanz Burgers went in the freezer, along with the battered cod bites and fishcakes with mushy peas in them. Natoora black tomatoes, yellow tomatoes, steak pie into the fridge, with some difficulty… Cartilage Cathy was in a right rotten mood with me when I bent to get the bottom tray filled. Cor, blimey, was she! But the bending to pick up the peas and pill might have contributed to Cartilage Cathy’s annoyance. Hehe!
Then I moved on to the third or fourth bag. The black box held 12 mini-pots of M&S fruit and jelly. Which I read when ordering to be strawberry flavoured. They had actual fruit in the jelly, but one of them was the forbidden for me pineapples. On a closer look, they also had seeds in them, which will most likely cause me a toothache. They’ll have to go! I know how to live! I made a bottle of spring water up with some of the lemon and lime cordial for later.
I got some fresh garden peas and lemon and lime yoghourts too. Two favourites there!
Just after getting them stored away and returning to the computer, Everything went wrong computer-wise. The icons had shrunk, the screen had gone darker, and Norton came up[ with things that needed attention. Crapwranglers! It was all too much for me, and I ended up changing things, uncertain if I was doing right or wrong. After changing things, it was far worse. I could have cried!
I stopped making changes too late and could not work out how to correct things. I went for a break and made a brew of Glengettie, taking this photograph of the morning view, in which I caught some crows on their way to a tree-top murder in the park. Then around 08:15hrs, the landline rang out. It was the gorgeous Nurse Hristina to tell me she was coming in the morning to do a Warfarin blood test, and I’ll be back on the Enoxaparin injections.
Then it rang again, it was Nicola from Meridian, Carer Richard who was sue to do me and stay with a poorly patient. They have arranged for Carer Julie to come and do me, she’ll be here as soon as possible. Bless her! Thanked her for letting me know.
Doing the updating of the blog for yesterday and got deeper into a mess of confusion with the computer for an hour or so, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang out.
Julie got the medications sorted; she had been called in to cover. She was as sweet as ever and helped me with the computer. ♥
After Carer Julie had left, Norton flashed up again. I’d no idea what was what. Humph! Now I cannot access my dropbox or save anything to it!!! The pointer keeps changing size? Oh dearie me! I may have changed something when I had a Norton defrag? I just can’t remember what I changed…
I carried on with this blog. The top Ode taking me yonks to get done. I gave Cartilage Cathy another good rubbing with the Phorpain again. This is the second day of Cathy’s hassle. Never had two days’ worth before.
I stopped computing on the blog to take a look at the food situation and catch up on what, if anything else, is due. I think I’ve ordered a Sainsbury’s order for next Sunday, but Dementia Doreen is determined; I’ll not remember. I’ll check the calendar first. I must get the ablutions done soon.
Yes, JS on Sunday. I’ll do an Iceland one for midweek. All done!
Now back on with this blog.
The day stopped, as frustration grew, abysmally, But memories remained of this morning’s jollity. Although it was just for microscopical scintillae… I felt my depression wanting to go away… But would it? Well, maybe one day it may…
Yet I no longer felt the self-hatred, not acidulously, The evening Carer should soon be coming to see me… Will they be contented, happy? Or rather grumpy? Or a chinwagger? Who entertains me wryly? I hope no one considers a natter avoidably!
Hopefully, one that looks after me, assiduously, Who doesn’t mind a laugh and is not over assertively… Carers who really care, I greet applaudingly… And consider them to be admiringly adorably, Like Jillie and Julie, compassionate, addictively!
I’ve got the oven on to heat up, to do the chips later, fresh garden peas and a pastie methinks tonight. But I must try not to make too much this time. Ah, it’s 18:00 now; the approx. ETA is twixt 18:00>19:00hrs for the evening carers.
I made a brew and took some photographs of the evening sun setting. Computed a little, took the mug to be washed, and took three more pictures. The ones on the left earlier ones, the right the later ones, but only by about 15 minutes. Mother Nature – absolutely Bootiful!
1848hrs: Carer Kiya came into the room. Having failed again to use the door chime… three times now. I had to ask her again, explaining that I could have been using the grey bucket… It made little difference. But she’s a confident little thing and witty with it. She let us chat for a couple of minutes, chose her nibbles and drink, took the waste bags with her without me asking, of off she went, happily.
I managed to encourage the picture ap to recognise the photo of the end car park at last. I took it this morning around 08:00hrs or thereabouts. Only just got it on the computer. I’m having all sorts of problems with it now – a case of last legs, methinks? (Me too, Haha!)
No red van, man. Well, he might be in court; you never know. Har-har! Plenty of vehicles compared to normal in there this morning.
Got the chips in the oven, then changed my mind and pulled them straight out again. (I know, I know!) I realised just how late it was now, and I still had to finish this blog. Otherwise, they’d have been cooked to a frazzled by the time I got the blog completed, posted, the Facebooking catch-up done, and photo albums updated. Then I’ve the WordPress Reader reading and commentating to do. The read and answer to the blog comments… Good heavens, I’d better get on with it!…
In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!
There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley, His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality, Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry, I’d get back from the local hostelry, After drinking and revelry… Fall up or down the stairs accidentally, Badly affected, alcoholically.
Working and drinking made my entire constellation, For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition, Boozing gave me a social connection… I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation, My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!
Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue, To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do! The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you! I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo, Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!
Now, so many years later, life is barren… Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again, Now I am an aged, sickly doyen… Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven, Clean-shaven? Why was that written? I always wanted to be a Tibicen, A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant, I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,
Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit! Feeling a bit of a twit, Misspellings lost words, things miswriting… I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!
My confidence is getting titchier, My mood is definitely schmaltzier, My trips to the Throne frequenter My Gawd, that’s four times this morning… What is happening? Each visit gets messier! Stomach aching and is paunchier! The passing of wind is getting noisier, Evacuated product is meatier! Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier! It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!
It’s the memory that confuses me most, I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost, The brain nowadays is a far outpost… Gives me access once or twice daily, at most! But still, I remain chatty and verbose… Seeking peace and inner glasnost, And the ability to do my blogpost!
The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial, Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential, Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual, The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual! I usually get the shakes and a wobble… Some chinwag, they go to that trouble, This leaves me in a contentment bubble!
I like to think that I am still trainable, But memory loss is always unavoidable, Although, day to day it can be changeable, That’s when I can get feeling unamiable… And, I believe there is only me blameable, Guilt can make contentment unavailable, Thinking at times that I should be throttleable, Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable, And life is temporarily less circumscriptible, Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!
Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!
This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight? No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light, Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright! Did she say good morning? Well, she well might… But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.
“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out, Sticking her finger out towards the chair, I took the medications, with trepidation about… But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair… I thought she wanted to give me a clout! I chatted about it being so dark, She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks, Yet departed, happy as a lark?
Depression began to activate… I found it hard to concentrate, The Porcelain Throne was again much used, Messy, tacky, splashes and floused… The Throne today is much overused! At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate… Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate! No chance of a shave and shower now, mate! I was disoriented, irritable, not focused, In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused, I need to get myself refocused Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!
This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.
“A pessimist is a person who has had to listen to too many optimists.”
Friday 12th March 2021
ITALIANO: Venerdì 12 Marzo 2021
23:25hrs: Horrible ever waking sleep last night. I was in the recliner for about five hours, though, but most of it spent waking up, thoughtless and vague-minded, and waiting to nod-off again! Grubblebleackers!
I got freed from the recliner, caught my balance quickly (Cartilage Cathy was so kind to me this morning, Yee-Ya!) By gum, it was cold in the flat. I wobbled into the kitchen and got the kettle on. Washed last night’s dishes and things and made a brew of Glengettie tea.
Then did the Health Checks. Pleased to see the SYS at 147, DIA 67 and PULSE down nicely to 83bpm. I didn’t adopt any Smug-Mode yet, mind.
I got the contactless thermometer out and was also satisfied with the resulting figure that it produced. 36.6°c – 97.88°f.
I took last night’s missed dosages of medications. (Fool!)
Got the computer on, and much to my surprise, Microsoft allowed me access to Excel and the HC logs to update. (Weich they denied me for all day yesterday – well, each time I tried, it was updating!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a Thompsons Punjana and then checked out the wall heaters that were not producing any heat at all! It was bloody cold in the flat, I can tell yers! Methinks I have problems with them!
I started to update the Thursday Diary. Got it finished, despite SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley doing her best to have the right arm torn-off at the glenohumeral joint! Hehehe! Vicious she was, for about an hour solid. That’s never happened before. Not for that long a period. Still, she eased off later. Painfully and persistently, I completed the task, and I posted some snaps to Pinterest.
Then, sent the Diary off to WordPress, emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. I discovered it was another lovely, loveable TFZer ladies Birthday, so I made a graphic and sent it off to her. Note I’ve lost so much weight… Hehehe! ♥
Made some comments on WordPress. I visited the WP Reader section, then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I hobbled. (Not so bad actually, Cartilage Cathy is still pleased with me and being gentle too!)
What a mess! Loose, yet gooey with it, short-lived, not a lot of it evacuated, and yet the gluey semi-liquid dollop just would not go away! Several refills of the tank by hand from the sink where needed, and five or six flushes! A jolly good job I had toilet paper spares, well that’s what they were, now more will be required, judging by the whole roll needed to clean things up. Flibblegonkackles!
Apart from so many dropsies thanks to SSS, the stand-up session was only worthy of one mention with a difference. That was after nasal cleaning, teeth cleaning, shaving, bathing, and medicating…
Getting the socks on! It was even funny at the time! I forced the right leg up a little, wedged my bum on the door corner, got the sock part way on, and lost my grip (I do a lot of that!). The cotton sock shot off, hit the back of the closet box, and plonked down into the WC water! I tried to replicate what I would have been doing and made a photo of it afterwards. Another pair of socks were utilised. The legs seem to be retaining fluid again?
The Iceland Foods delivery is due twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs, but I’d got the ablutions sorted early enough to do the hand-washing in the kitchen sink sorted. All done, wrung, and hung above the sink on hangers. The Lily and Yang Yang scent in the Surf soap powder has a delightful smell.
I took a Canan camera photo of the morning view as I put the kettle on and made a mug of Glengettie brew.
I checked the heater in the kitchen, and it was warm now; I turned it up somewhat, as the weather forecast is so gloomy for the next 24-hours.
I took a shot of Chestnut Walk and the car park on it.
Time getting close now for the food to arrive. After it does and I get it stored away, I’ll see how supplies look and if another Sainsbury order might be a good idea, depends on what slots are available. Sometimes it’s a long wait to get one.
I did some updating on this post and then made another brew, Thompsons Punjana, this time. No time to drink it, the intercom rangeth and flashed, it was the Iceland Food delivery arriving, I pressed the entry button and awaited his arrival.
The Iceland man dropped the begs… begs? Yet another cock-up wiv me grammar, Tsk!), bags I meant, through the doorway for me. Slipped him a choice of cans of plonk, and off he trotted on his mission to feed the nation!
I took the carriers through to the kitchen and went on the internet to see if anything was short delivered or substituted.
Does yer know, there wasn’t a single substitution, and nothing short delivered… Even more surprising, there was nothing found to be short-dated either, as well, besides! Iceland outdid themselves with this delivery, a definite, very welcome first!
I was well pleased, but of course, I’d not checked for any damaged, crushed or leaking goods yet, so I resisted going into a Smug-Mode for the time being.
I set about putting the frozen stuff away first. As you can see in the photograph here on the right, it was all healthy living stuff. Well, I forgot to get the chips. Hahaha! Still a kid at heart, I am!
Next, I put away the fridge items, far better foodstuffs. Topside beef slices, pork & Pickle mini pork pies, sweet chilli chicken, chicken thighs, potato salad, egg-mayonnaise, and some strawberry and whipped cream desserts. Now I’ve put the spell checker on; the previous sentence had eight mistakes on it! Ahem! Got the other stuff in the bathroom and cupboards.
The YourArea magazine arrived, so I investigated. The lottery winner had been sentenced for his appallingly dangerous driving in which he killed a 75-year-old lady in the car he’d drifted across the road, and his BMW then crashed head-on into an oncoming Ford Fiesta.
I say sentenced; he got away with a 16-week suspended sentence and a one-year driving ban! For a £45 million lottery winner, that’s really going to bother him, innit! And the poor husband has lost his wife through Topham’s ignorance of the law and lack of concentration in driving, and I believe still in the hospital.
The now 31-year old Topham said in court:“I honestly don’t believe I thought about what I was about to do,” he said. “If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.”(Me, me, me!) Huh! Generalfeldmarschall Friedrich Paulus said that after Stalingrad, will have to find money from his £45m for taxies? Some sodding deterrent that was! Was the jury back-handed? Just asking! I bet he the had best expensive lawyers!
At least I found some goodish news on the Covid-19 figures locally.
I decided to get some late brekkers.
I called Warden Deana on the phone, got a recorded message.
Phone the Doctors Surgery, got a recorded message.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie, and I took a tumble as I bent down to check the heat not coming from the radiator. Clouted the head on the ledge on the way down, and SSS started to play up as I struggled back up onto my feet with the help of the stove.
Made the tea and had a sit-down. I’m not sure what happened then, but I assume I fell asleep cause it was hours later when I seemed to wake-up, head pounding. I took a Codeine 60g. I didn’t feel poorly, just confused.
Did some updating of this post, but concentration was not coming to me easily.
It’s still a bit of a blur. No notes on the pad had been added, so I assume I’d nodded off again cause I woke up in the recliner. Feeling peckish, I made a meal of sorts made up. Didn’t enjoy it much, but I’ve had worse, though. A taste rating of 6/10 was given.
I had a surreal few hours then.
In the morning, I found these photographs of the TV screen on the SD card?
Yes, it beats me why, as well!
After perusing the pictures, I assumed that I’d been watching, or falling asleep to and waking, Law & Order, Tales of the unexpected, many adverts and commercials, and possibly even a Nightmare Kitchen episode?
All I can remember for definite is that I was having difficulty in getting to sleep. I did keep nodding off, I think, but the nods only lasted a few seconds each time?
I noticed it was 19:00hrs on the clock, then went into a Thought Storming period.
A bad one, guilt, despair, mistakes, isolation, depression and fear all played a part. These went on for ages, with some emotional events from the past repeating!
I was fighting with my memory for some unknown reason, and I became self-loathing in the process.
I was pointless concerning myself with banal questions and seeking positive answers; Had I been to the Porcelain Throne today? What to do about the ear-ache? I must get a Sainsbury order done tomorrow, etc., on and on the silliness of life came at me, sadly, along with the regular guilt, shame and embarrassment. I really did feel so; what’s the word I’m looking for… lambasting and self-chastising. Oh, that’s two words!
I did eventually nod-off, and when I woke up, I wondered if my memory had been warped as I recalled how I’d felt, but the sense of doom and gloom was no longer lingering?
♥ By gum, some folks live well – Can I come, please? ♥
Someone should pay for this disaster,
Take the Blame! But no, they’ve got away with it!
Wednesday 10th March 2021
Welsh: Dydd Mercher 10fed Mawrth 2021
23:20hrs: I woke with a bit of start, and as I began to free my overly-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, a few thought came at the same time to me. First, Cartilage Cathy’s pain was as bad as yesterday, then the lack of noise from the ‘Hum’ permeated through to me. But I could hear the machinery noises from, presumably from the rooftop plant room!
As I got up on my feet to catch my balance, Cartilage Cathy gave a nervous-making wobble and had me holding onto the chair, then a realisation dawned… “There were no gurgling and rumblings from the innards” Amazing! It seems that the Numark Instant Diarrhorea tablets from Amazon that I took last night had worked miracles… I had to curb my enthusiasm, though. With my luck, you never know what disaster, embarrassment, Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop lay ahead! However, I could not resist going into a Semi-Smug-Mode, all the same. I awaited the arrival of the Throne visit with a certain trepidation.
I got the computer on, checked the Pill-boxes from Amazon Tracker. Then realised I’d made a cock-up with it. (Yes, I know it must be difficult for you to understand a young man, of my alertness, education, attentiveness, sharp-wittedness, and diligent meticulousness can get things so wrong! Gesuntight! I’d ordered two and needed four to cover for the monthly prescriptions! What a plonka! So, I ordered two more. The first two are expected today, the next on Thursday. Had a wee-wee.
I make a brew of Thomsons Punjana tea. Neuropathy Pete was giving the right side of me a decent shaking every time I walked or stood up. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley joined in occasionally.
I got the Health Checks done then. The temperature was a little high again at 37.6°c – 99.7°f. However, I was well-pleased with the BP results this morning. SYS down to 148, DIA at only 74, and the PULSE a decent 83. Had a wee-wee.
I updated the BP log in Excel. Yes, Microsoft, let me gain access to the programme again today! They seem to be improving – no, I shouldn’t have said that, knowing how often the damned thing goes down! A bit of pushing my luck there. When will I ever learn? Hahaha! I took the morning medications.
I made a start on the much longer to do than yesterday updating for the Tuesday Diary. This was because of the Matron’s visit and late deliveries of the tablets. Which needed uploading and sorting before going in the post. I did get it finished in the end, and I Pinterested some snaps. Then had a look at the Emails as I sent the link off.
Sister Jane had sent a photograph of their last cat still with us, Alberto!
He had had his picture printed in the West Bridgford newspaper! Fame at last! It was apparently used as a header for an article about Fun Pet Facts!
I made sure I’d updated and posted the Tuesday blog. Emailed the link. Had a wee-wee.
Went on the WordPress Reader section. Not much on it today, but what there were, was excellent. I passed some comments on many of them.
I hobbled into the kitchen and got some leeks prepped; it took me a while. Really mud-covered inside the leaves today. Sliced them and put them in the crock-pot, seasoned with a couple of vegetarian Oxo cubes added as a flavouring. I’ll put the heat on later, but meantime, they can be marinating. Nothing, like a good marinationing! Hahaha! Had a wee-wee.
There were no signs of any need for the Porcelain Throne yet. I’m hoping things will not have gone back in favour of Constipation Konrad?
I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and then I got on with starting this blog going. It was a slow job, not through any ailments particularly, just a sudden loss of concentration for some unknown reason. After a few hours,
I checked on the email from Sainsbury’s to make sure about the ETA for the delivery. Well, they don’t like it when I opt for no substitutes, do they! The bread is going to be short dated now! They always win in the end. Swine! And they have cream doughnuts either!
I had a look at today Amazon tracker for the pill pods. Oh, dearie, me! This one is going to be arriving so late in the day again.
According to the tracker, it isn’t even out for delivery yet; that’ll ruin my sleeping pattern for sure! And then again tomorrow when the others arrive?
I feel down a bit now. Staying up late creases me up! But on the bright side… Nope, there isn’t a bright side or silver lining to this problem! Cragknackles! I’d better get the ablutions done quickly, ready for the food order! The session was a rushed one, as I kept dropping stuff too often, for Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing me up something awful. I didn’t bother fighting to get any socks and went barefoot; well, I had my slippers on.
I’d not long been out, sorting out the black bags and getting them into the box on the walker. But I dare not go out to take them to waste chute and risk missing any of the deliveries that are due today.
When the intercom sounded, and the Sainsbury deliveryman arrived. He put the items in the box and bag, waited for me to check the short date on the milk roll (sell by 11th March, Tsk), but it felt soft enough) I thanked the lad, and he refused a can of vodka in thanks and shot off!
Now, the next twenty-five minutes were spent unloading and taking pictures of all the delivered food. I thought of witty quips to put on each one; eight photographs were taken with the Kodak – Taking the ninth and last one, the Kodak bleeped! Puzzled, I investigated, but the screen had cleared by the time I got to view it? I put everything away and went on the balcony to get some good shots of the view. I took what I thought were some cracking ones… then the Kodak bleeped again…
It was telling me that the camera storage was full! I had failed to put the SD card in! And I have no idea how to get the camera to let me use the memory? I think I am losing it in realtime now!
I was fervidly angry, indeed infuriated with myself! I swore at myself openly, questioning my own parentage! What a moron! All that time and effort for nothing!
Angry and cursing, I went out onto the balcony to retake a couple of photos. I took two, then dived back inside and shut the window, as the rain saw me a sent down a torrent to try and drown me. I took two shots through the glass. And people wonder why I’m neurotic, distraught, twitchy, nervous, apprehensive, unconfident, and jittery? This is one example of why, a proven born loser-addicted, and well-acquainted with failure! Ha-ha! Now I was getting miffed, riled and hacked-off with things! Still, never-mind, eh!
Naughty, but nice!
Trying to work out how to get the camera and computer linked together was another total failure, but that’s alright – I’m used to it. : However, I did find out how to turn on the Micro-mode on the Kodak camera. Yahoo! I decided my first effort in Macro mode photography would be the packet of Fresh Cream French Horns! Unfortunately, it took me eight attempts to get this one taken; all the others were over-smudged?
The Smug-Mode was destroyed when I couldn’t remember how to turn off the Macro-Mode, and finding how I’d got it on in the first place was now beyond my capabilities! Sad, innit? I’ll have to try again later and use the Canon camera again. The Kodak Pixpro AX 651 is just too confusing for this old-fart to master using.
Working on the diary, and I heard the voice of Desk-Top Dancer, ILC, Warden Deana, as she came into the flat. Lovely to see her again. She’s come to do a wristlet alarm check. But we lost contact with Nottingham City Homes (Monitoring) Control room. She tried again, and someone spoke with Deana, I couldn’t decipher or hear properly what was said, but they were having problems, I think. Said she’d have to try again later. I told Deana I’d make an alarm call later on. We chatted for a few minutes, and I had a laugh. Mostly me, moaning about the Astra-Seneka after-effects and not being able to contact the Doctor about it. She had to shoot off on her rounds, which left me somewhat down in spirits. Poor old twit!
I must say, the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets seem to have done their job. I’m very impressed. No signs of any needs of the Porcelain Throne, all day long, yet! I just pray that things don’t turn into Constipation Konrad mode! Trotsky Terence is not showing any of his (usual for the last two weeks) bubbling, brewing and gurglings at all.
I checked on the Amazon Tracker and was pleased to see the van was only three stops away from the flats. So, I took the waste bags to the chute and a bag of recyclables down to Roberts’ (Caretaker) bin. In time to catch the van arriving and saving him/her the bother of coming up to the flat.
I was going to take the camera with me to take some outside shots but managed to forget to take it with me, the same as I forgot the keys with the fob on to get back inside the flats and take the mobile phone with me. Well, I might as well just forget everything, that’d be good, cause I wouldn’t know if I had or not? Hehe!
I had a minute or so natter with Robert. And got back inside when he went into the lobby.
Minutes later, the driver arrived, she had eight small parcels in her arms, and I asked if any was for number 72. She handed me the package, and I hobbled, hassled by Cathy’s Cartilage back up to the flat.
I opened the box, and the pill-pods looked suitable if a little on the small side. Now I have to go through all this again tomorrow when the next two arrive. Then I can be ready to use these next month when the prescriptions arrive and make things a little more orderly in the medication stakes.
I got the nosh sorted out, making sure that the strawberry jam & fresh cream French Horns were not missed off of the tray. Hehe! Of course, I only eat them because of medical conditions. Or should that be mental conditions? Ahem!
The short-dated milk roll bread from Sainsbury’s wasn’t eaten; it was too dry for my tastes. Serves me right for accepting it! But all else was! The tomatoes were a bit bland. The Chilli-chicken was okay. The peas and leeks went down well! The Iceland canned potatoes were a good advert for cardboard-flavoured foods! Taste-Rating: 6/10.
The metabolism was satisfied with this meal, though. I got the things washed-up and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, to watch some TV, somewhat later than usual with having to stay up for the delivery. But Sweet Morpheus was welcoming for once. I drifted off for five uninterrupted, dream-free hours of bliss! Bodacious!
♫ Who do you think you are kidding, Mrs Euro, if you…♫ Hehehe!
Tuesday 9th March 2021
Swahili: Jumanne 9 Machi 2021
I woke tired from the guilty nightmares I’d been having… but not for long; the gurgling movement from the innards and tiny but lethal escapages of gas from the rear-end put an end to any self-pitying.
I was forced to clamber out of the uncomfortable £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. Get my onerously over-stomached torso on its legs, catch my balance, and hasten to the wet room!
It as a closer call than yesterday in getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! The movement began, totally out of my control, stinky, sticky and gooey – a sure sign the Trotsky Terence was still in charge. (I’m expecting some medications to arrive today via Amazon, on the tracker, they haven’t been dispatched yet, oh, I hope they hurry, Hahaha!) You watch; by the time I get them delivered, Constipation Konrad will have regained control. Hehehe!
The session was not a long one this time, but it took a heck of a time to clean up afterwards, me and the porcelain. At least it only took three flushes to clear things away.
I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie tea that now, ten-days after having the AstraZeneca vaccination, I am beginning to taste again!
And got on the computer, and tried the Excel crap, and found it was working. So, I updated the Health Checks listings while I could, but stopped… ‘You are a fool! I said to myself, best to get the Health Checks done for today first. Humph! So, I did. And what a shock some of the readings were! The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured in Guangdong, China, gave SYS 161, DIA 80, Pulse 90bpm.
But more scarifying was the body temperature result. 38.0°c – 100.4°f! Not good, undoubtedly? ♫ Fever, you give me fever…♫ Haha!
The tea went cold, so I went to make another one, but it didn’t happen.
I got sidetracked, yet again, and sorted the hand-washing out.
Placing the dryer clothes on hangers above the kitchen window and the still damp ones on the server-trolley in front of the wall heater. I put the imitation yarmulke cap on the stand-up clothes airer to dry quicker.
Took the morning medications. Then back to the computer and got on with updating the Monday I.T. Diary. I got it finished and Pinterested some photo’s, then I sent the Email link out.
I went on Facebooking next. Had a good long, enjoyable session. Then went to the WordPress Reader section to view the new posts and make some comments. I moved onto the WP Comment reading and responding.
Then I had a look at the local E-magazine for something of interest.
Nottingham City Council has voted to bring in total a council tax increase of 4.99% from April. The increase, made up of a 1.99% rise in direct council tax and 3% in the adult social care precept, has been voted through at a full council meeting as part of a cost-saving budget that will see some £15.6 million of savings next year. The council has highlighted an additional £36 million in cost pressures to be borne over the next financial year, following a drastic reduction in the amount of money allocated to it in central government revenue support grants (RSGs). A shame, all part of the Covid Claw-back! Utility price rises, buses taken off that served the flats, Bank decreasing interest rates. It doesn’t stop there; Rents have gone up, water rates, Council tax, and more! Sob!
Residents are being warned about phone call scams, including people pretending to be police officers after two elderly victims lost more than £15,000. Nottinghamshire Police say the scammers are using sophisticated “spoofed” telephone numbers, which appear to be the police, helping to gain contact with their victims. As part of the scams, a Hucknall man in his 80s handed more than £11,300 to the fraudsters, while another report from Newark saw an elderly lady lose £4,500 – both to a man pretending to be a Cambridgeshire Police officer.
Latest Covid-19 numbers declared for the last seven days. Looking much better now, but complacency can be a danger to us all, still!
Notts EuroMillions winner Matthew Topham; took his eyes off the road to grab a teddy bear before causing a fatal crash, Killing a pensioner.
Topham, who was driving a BMW X6, admitted causing the pensioner Jane Regler’s death by careless driving but denied two other offences. The trial continues and is expected to conclude on Wednesday. Still, he needs not to worry about being raped if he goes to jail (but I doubt that he will; affording good lawyers). He’ll just pay the gangs for protection in there.
Nearly six million people could end up on a “hidden waiting list” for NHS treatment and services in the wake of the pandemic, it has been revealed. The NHS Confederation says significant numbers of people have not come forward or been referred for treatment due to Covid-19. The body, which represents organisations that commission, and provides NHS services, is warning “urgent action” is needed. Well, as if I didn’t know! I wish they’d tell the uncontactable Doctor at the Sherringham Park Medical Practice! Still, if I feel brave enough, I can ring 111 and ask for advice… maybe, possibly… perhaps?
A lot of wee-weeing up until about 05:00hrs, now they seem to be trickling off? Haha! I made a brew, and I nibbled some mini Swiss rolls.
Then, with Excel working and giving me access to the HC listing (I know, I was amazed too!), I got it updated and took a snip of today’s High Blood Pressure, revealed on the NHS site, where you can put in your SYS and DIA, and get an assessment of the results. I’m still in High BP. Which surprised me in a way cause I’m not feeling stretched or whatever the word is… tense, perhaps?
Time to get the ablutions tended to. Off to the wet room.
Another great session today! Even better, because I got the short cotton socks on afterwards, without using Sock-Glide-Glenda! Hehehe! My decision-making capabilities have all but gone, you know. Do I risk falling on the floor by not using Glenda? Or, do I risk getting crippled bloodied finger ends and stubbed toes? Anyway, as I said, I used the risky back in the corner of the room, agonising from Cathy Cartilage’s point of view, have each leg and lean back into the corner, and hope to keep my balance between putting the socks on? – Dithering, timidity, shilly-shallying, humming and hawing, and equivocating are taking over a big part of my psyche lately. I’m doing it again now!
Only about eight dropsies in total. Now falls, walking into anything, dizzies or knocking into or anything over at all! The legs looked a lot better after I’d got the socks on. Haha!
Only painful in the extreme Cathy Cartilage was any real bother. The medicationalisationing was handled easy enough without any real incidents. And Harold’s Haemorrhoids were calmer, and no bleeding! Grrreat!
I got the handwashing done, deodorised, wrung and hung above the sink!
I rang ILC, Night-club desktop dancer Warden Deana a ring. It went to the answer-phone. Maybe she is still on holiday.
Back on to the computer I went. I checked the Gooogle Calendar. To see if I’d got the ordered stuff, especially the anti-Trotsky Terence medications, from Amazon dates mixed up again, and some might be arriving today. Of course, there was no need to do this, with me being a man with an excellent memory like what I have. Ahem!
Aha, fantastic, the Smecta anti-diahorrea solutions arrived!
But the instructions were beyond even the powers of my reading glasses and magnifying glass!
The first thing was to make up a mug and get it taken! Feeling more confident now, and anticipate when the tablets arrive, and I got one of them down me, Trotsky Terence may abate a bit!
As I was taking it, I heard a clunk from the hallway… the Post Office had delivered the Numark medications! Great timing. So got them collected and took two straight away! Now I have even more hopes for some relief from the gooey, sticky, yet watery, stinking diarrhoea! I’ll find out in the morning… Dang, dang, dang… Dang!
Then, the door chimes rang forth with Dusty Springfield’s tune. It was the Community Nurse, Matron Jackie.
I responded to all her questions, perhaps overly so, on the Astra-Zeneca after-effects and how poorly I felt. I mentioned the trouble in getting in touch with the doctor’s surgery for help and guidance. Little response, I think she knew of the surgery’s problems; well, all surgeries are having at this time.
She was not happy with the mess the medications were in. I did explain about the chemists going back to boxed and not potted prescriptions, but it sounded like an excuse, even to me as I spoke. I decided that in the morning, I’ll see what pill-boxes were available on Amazon, get some to start again with from scratch next month, and throw away the current mishmash of boxes.
She said she was reading up and learning about Peripheral Neuropathy and asked some questions. The right PN affected knee was jumping at the time.
Then she took my BP and temperature. Looked at the record log and suspected the thermometer might be not working correctly. She had a look in my ear-holes and reminded me to put just olive oil in daily (which I do, it’s about the only thing I do keep up with!)
I felt adequately spoilt with the attention showed me by Matron Jackie ♥. She wondered why I had not called her when the vaccine problems started. I meekly told the truth; I’d not thought of it. But anything else happens, and I will ring her number in the future!
She departed, and I wallowed in the memory of seeing and getting her help.
My attention turned to the Nosh. Pork Knuckle, garden peas, a few sugar snap peas, tomatoes, potato fries, a Marmite chunk. With some milk roll bread – sounds good to me! So, I made it up, plated it, and on the tray. I made some mini-Dagwood sarnies with the milk roll bread as I tucked into it. Fantastic meal! (Of course, I was in a super-good mood, having just been spoilt by the nurse’s visit) Flavour rating: 8.5/10!
Did the pots, and got a wash. Took the evening medications with a Numark anti-Trotsky Terence tablet. Then settled to watch the Tales of the Unexpected on the box. I did get through the first half-hour episode, albeit with a few momentary nodding-off spells. As the ending music came on and woke me, I had to give up, as the weariness dawned. I turned off the goggle-box, and fell asleep peaceably, into a dream and nightmare free sleep of five-hours! Super!
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:
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.
01:25hrs: I woke and lay there, desperate to claw back some of the memories of the many dreams I’d been having. But, it was not to be. I know that some were had a joyful nature to them, and I had the abilities (in the dreams) that have been long lost to me! Klappboggleworth! I could not remember any details… well, other than I was in raptures and Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding. So there had been some inordinately rare movement in that department!
The Daktacort ointment will have to be applied to stop the bleeding, so I have no choice other than to extricate my generously-over-ample stomach and body from the c1968 recliner, catch my balance of trot (limp) to the wet room to do so. I arrived, and I found I needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne first.
Oh, dearie me; Trotsky Terence was back in full-control again! A 3-0 win over Constipation Konrad. I’d just picked up the crossword book as well, in anticipation of the delayed kick-off that I’ve had for the last three visits to the Throne. The semi-liquid evacuation started at a fair pace. But things got stuck-up and very gooey, messy then. I waited, hoping that the mess would flow again, and even got three answers to clues! Sure enough, the movement began also, but it was so squooshy, stinky, and a right flaming mess to clean up – with Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding and dripping down the legs, and the PP’s down, naturally, this made it a mammoth job to clean up! Still, it didn’t bother me much; I just pressed on and cleaned it all up?
Fantastically, the bog’s first flush cleared the sticky mess and all of the toilet paper in one go? Not been known for months that!
Then, of course, the onerous job of medicating and cleaning things up in the front lower area had to be done. I started the last Dakacort tube and went through the as expected, painful job of applying the ointment. Ooh, argh, Eeek! But it stopped the bleeding in a short time (phew!) I washed around and changed the PPs, had a belated wee-wee, and went to get the Health Checks done.
I made a brew on the way, took the missed evening medications (Ahem!), and tended the Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer readings were SYS 166, DIA 76 and PULSE 92. All a smidge high, I thought.
The body temperature on the new contactless Chinese thermometer came out as 36.8°c – 98.24°f. For some reason, beyond my capabilities to work out, the Canon camera photo came out all red? But the screen was in light-green? Hey-ho!
I went to open Excel to compare and record the readings on the graph, but guess what? I couldn’t access Word or Excel… Again!
Why do they charge me for extras I can’t remember asking for on MS Office, and then they deny me access. This is the third time they have updated, and I couldn’t use either for a day and a half! Well, I’m disgusted with them! Do the profitable morons think we are all idiots? Ah, well, in my case, perhaps! What do I do if, this time, it doesn’t come back on? I must think of another way of storing my medical recordings. It was so easy to start with to send them to the clinic, as well. Damned Microsoft Gits!
I got the Friday Diary finished. Emailed the link and Facebooked.
The ablutioning time arrived, earlier than usual. I usually do them at 08:00hrs, which should not disturb the neighbours’ sleeping (lucky monkeys!) With the Morrison delivery being due, twixt 07:00hrs and 08:00hrs, I had to start the session by 06:00hrs.
So, off to the stand-up ablutionalising session, I hobbled. As I took off the long bamboo diabetic socks, I decided and got them soaking in the kitchen sink to wash afterwards. I just can’t make my mind up or stop fretting and thinking, can I?
Back to the wet room. The nasal clearing went well enough, no bleeding or choking! Then I got the teeth cleaned, a lot less painful this morning, oh, three dropsies!
The shaving started, and a mystery found here; as I was bending down to pick up one of many dropped razor, some blood dripped down onto my nose? I investigated and saw a little cut on the top of my bald head? How? No razor goes up there, no need? Anyroad, it was only a tiny nick… possibly done by one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court; the phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, demons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, aliens, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, gremlins, and ghostly goo-like Ectoplasms! Hehehe!
But I did better shaving the face and neck, not a single nick at all!
I had to wash the new tackle department, of course, if I triggered the fungal lesion off again. All went well, then the getting on of the new bamboo hosiery, and not using Sock-Glide-Glenda, either! Which proved a painful experience and a mistake, perhaps? Tsk! Rolling up the first sock, I cunningly placed my bum in the corner of the room to try and avoid going over. Noteworthy, the hose went on at the second attempt, and I could have sung-out with joy! (I think I did, actually?)
Then with the second sock, things did not go so well… As I was full of confidence now, I rolled up the hose but could not get the Cathy Cartilage and Peripheral Pete affected right leg up high enough, and foolishly, stood with the leg part-way up to the other knee, and over I went! Clattering down the wall and hitting Harold’s Haemorrhoids on the floor cabinet on my way to the floor!
However, I did get them on eventually! Hahaha!
The silver-linings were that the piles did not start bleeding, nor the fungal lesion. So, although I was annoyed at myself. I realised it was my own stupidity that caused the calamity, so no moaning from me about it! (Well… a smidgen, perhaps?)
Got the Germoloid on the haemorrhoids, some more cream, well, ointment, on the fungal lesion, and olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed some manly deodorant all over me (Old Spice, I think?), started coughing, and tidied the room up. Off to make a brew of Glengettie.
Washed the socks and got them hung above the sink to drip dry. I’ll move them nearer the heater when it’s safe to do so, and no chances of any dripping. (Pork or beef! Hahaha!)
Back on the computer, but the delivery was due, so I thought I’d go and help the man carry the stuff up to the flat. What a mistake to maker!
I went down to the front lobby with the box on the trolley-guide; at least I should help a little in getting the bags back up to the flat. The man was not a very lovely person and seemed to take an instant dislike to me before I said anything to him, apart from, Good morning! He was keen to see my I.D., and I told him it was up in the flat? He checked my date of birth. Questioning each detail. I put two of the lighter bags in the box on the trolley and began to take it inside… as I turned, the man was driving off!
So, there I was, stuck downstairs, and somehow had to get seven bags of food up to the flat! I really did knacker myself.
I had to carry some bags individually into the lift foyer.
Go back and collect the others, take them through.
Return back and get the trolley with the two light bags on it, and get them to the lift foyer
Then, when the lift arrived, I had to manage it so that the door didn’t shut on me, get the six loose bags into the cage, then the trolley and box!
As I got to the twelfth floor, a chap was not pleased that he couldn’t get in the elevator. I have been sneered at a few times, but this man was an Ace at it! I felt awful!
Got the bags, trolley and box out onto the lobby floor… To make things worse, the lift door shut on the man… I could fell the virtual arrows coming my way!
Next, I had to move the bags and trolley to the loft lobby door, get the loose bags through, then the trolley and me inside. Carry them down to the front door; I was struggling by now and feeling a little strained and drained!
At got the bags and trolley inside and had to stop. I just stood there fighting for me to breathe for a couple of minutes.
Then I took the bags through to the kitchen, put them on the floor, and needed another minute or two to properly collect myself.
Collated the bags and got them sorted out… slowly, very slowly!
They had sent that horrible seedy bread, not the white sourdough I was looking forward to having tonight. Crap!
The ice-cream had partly melted!
The tomatoes were squashed!
The swiss roll mini-cakes were mangled entirely!
The fridge looked a little bare, to say all the stuff I’d just put in it?
I think I must have been having a funny-moment, that wasn’t funny!
One of the tubs of Custard & jelly was broken, plastic split!
But was I bothered? Did I mind? Yes, I bleeding did! I felt right, cheated and mistreated!
Luckily it didn’t bother me too much (Lying Swine!)
Back on the computer, still short of breath and coughing something rotten again! The worst thing about the whole farcical delivery was that it had destroyed the unaccountable lightheartedness that I’d been enjoyed for a day and a half! Now, Depression Dennis was taking a hold on me.
I sourly updated this diary with the above details, then the sneezing started? What’s going on here?
I tried to remember the things I had not done earlier and conducted my scribbled notes. I tried the crap, overcharging, shitty, unreliable Microsoft Office programs again.
What a pratt, I actually thought it would open and work! Not the way my luck has changed in the last two hours or so! So, no updating the medical figures, then! I’m getting low now!
Ah, I remember, it’s TFZer Shirley’s birthday. I’ll make a graphic and put it on Facebook.
I feel a little better now for remembering. ♥
I risked making myself feel more depressed by looking at the local Emagazine for anything worth promoting. Apart from local yobbo drug gangs letting off fireworks each time they get a new supply to let their pissant users know, the possibility of Nottinghamshire Covid-19 Vaccination centres might have to close, due to supply issues, there was not a lot worth reading about. Mind you, the Covid-19 new cases were well down over the last seven days. So, not all doom and gloom… even if I am currently in a ‘Doom & Gloom’ attack.
I decided to try the crap malted seasoned bread. It might be okay. I made up a cold meal, imitation Dagwood sarnies, pork & stuffing meat, and tomatoes. Chip sticks, roast onions and some sugar snap peas and got settled early to dine. Tray on my knee, feet up om the swivel chair, and tucked into the nosh!
The malted grain-seeded bread was worse than I’d hoped it would be, tastewise. But with plenty of pork, stuffing and butter on it, it worked out to be enough to mask the bread a bit. I gave it a Taste-Rating of 6/10.
Washed the pots, and settled down to watch some TV, Auf Wiedersehen Pet and Rosemary & Thyme, 2 episodes of each following each other. Of course, I missed most them, thanks to the kind for once Sweet Morpheous allowing me to nod off into a dream interrupted but much-needed sleep! Ah, nice!
TFZer Tutoring a young, handsome lad – Makes yer sick! Hahaha!
Saturday 20th February 2010
Croatian: Subota 20 Veljače 2010
21:30hrs: I burst awake, confused, needing a wee-wee, and coughing. With new bother at all, I was up, caught my balance, had a weak, unwilling wee-wee, and heard the noise from above again, like a humming motor. The World Wide ‘Hum’ was heard as well.
A bit of shivering, and I put on a thick jumper. Remembering the Community Nurse was due this coming morning.
I got the things washed up from last night’s Chilli-Con-Carne feast. I’m sure I could still taste it, Gorgeous!