Sunset shots, no idea when from, sometime in the last three days I’ve been without the capability to upload.
Yesterday morning (Maybe?) Colin Cramps was paining me, All night long, eight hours, no sleep, scarily, But still, in wealth, health, finances and pecuniarily… I have no worries… I am totally hassle-free… I’m lying here, to a certain degree… I can’t walk properly… It’s harder than ever to see… Arthur Itis murdering the knee… Constantly I need a painful wee-wee, Lost the remote control for the TV! Using the Porcelain Throne leaves things increasingly phooey! And to varying degrees, it’s always bloody! So many medications, I’m becoming a druggie, Of pains, aches, worries, fears… I’m never free! Diabetes stops me from eating chocolate and toffee… Always some other medical examinee… Vascular dementia has taken my minds synchronicity, More operations are due, but that’s just a technicality, I’m coping well, really, but with a vulnerability… Too occasional depressions and pathetic self-pity, Yet, I’ve a gift of physical, not mental, survivability, Sometimes, I have an outlook of determination and doability… Often prevented from actioning by my docility… Yet, I press on, causing more damage, such is my senility… Why did the Lord give me life, but not the ability? Fair enough, he gave me more than a fair share of verbosity, And great bonus, in a massive bouncebackability, But far too much instability and aperiodicity? Not to mention my fretting, worrying and trepidity, Oh, I said them – that’ll be the memories absentia! Psychasthenia, I’ve avoided, I’m glad to say it’s not obligatory, Thank Gawd, for my beloved Lisa, Jenny and Jillie 🧡
Made up some Polish pork sarnies, so good they tasted! Planned it for them to be ready, To eat it watching the telly… Heartbeat was on… but I soon capitulated!
I’ll turn on the telly a fine-looking nosh, and I waited… Again, my plans had been incapacitated… The TV remote had absquatulated! Spend so much time searching, going wud! The meal went stone-cold; it could not be ameliorated! No TV, eyesight too bad to read; aggravated! Hearing no good to listen to the radio… The remote control was not appropriated! After a lengthy search, of finding it, there was no likelihood, I was self-annoyed; I could have spat blood! At least the sandwiches tasted really good! A Dark Depression accumulated… As the next Whoopsiedangleplop, I awaited…
The following day I woke, and photo’d the feet, The limbs looked okay, felt alreet, Colin Cramps was easier last night, his pains petite, Then, as I moved, the action was only slight… Arthur Itis attacked – in the right knee, with all his might! Hearing myself whimper made me uptight, I struggled to move and was not very sprite… Then, went to Phorpain it… What a sight!
My disjointed but prettily coloured patella.
The sort of knee one may find on a troglodyte? No sunshine for them either, very little light, But I was more concerned with the failing eyesight, I make myself a sarnie, using Vegemite… Just two little slices, more weight I will not incite,
It was cold, misty and windy tonight, Got the camera, the end car park to highlight… Will the computer let me import? Well, it might… Good heavens, it did! Much to my delight!
The red van on the no-parking zone is like a benchmark, It’s never been known to park up properly, I remark… The van reminds me vaguely of the Bismarck?
Sod it! The knee cap’s come out, off to the hospital!
He went into Photographicalistical mode straight away. Well…
And after the traditional painful, challenging wee-wee, He got his Canon camera and dropped it, accidentally, Well, he’s getting senile now and rather elderly… His thoughts and actions are slow, performed dottily, He hurt his back, bending to retrieve it; he needed another pee! Yet it still worked, so he took his first photo, jauntily…
He took it from the balcony,
The red van parked, again, illegally…
Yesterday, the lights shone brightly…
This photo came out fairish – a periodicity!
Clear morning, t’was no longer foggy…
The following two shots were taken in duplexity…
Top one to the north-east,
Second to the south-east,
Not so good these, my apology!.
He took an extra snap, using technology…
He’d zoomed in, to him that’s using gadgetry,
He went into a smug mode, as he did one correctly!
He even charged up the battery…
For him, that’s technological activity!
But the twerp couldn’t get the card to work The computer was confusing the burke! Card reader not recognised, he went berserk! From his efforts, he did not shirk… And by some miraculous quirk… He got it to work, the jerk!
After making a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, stubbing his toe, and dropping the milk bottle, he cleaned the mess up. Took his CBD.
The formula was frivolously formulated for phrasemaking while Inchcock was busy cutting himself shaving. He can’t recall what it was exactly but decided that as he continued with his ablutions and medicationalisationing, he might get inspiration or a vague idea for a new plot. But, by the time he stopped the chin bleeding and utilised the Porcelain Throne, the earlier plan of his blog’s theme had plodded off into the ether, lost forever…
Teeth cleaning, nasal decongesting, and into the shower. Inchie banged his shoulder against the power-box (Dizzy Dennis to blame). Swore violently. Took his shower, then set about doing his medicationalisationings.
These went reasonably well (Did I say that?) The most painful bit of agonistically applying the stinging Betamethasone cream really was nowhere near the pain it usually was? This was a good start.
Treating Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Ankle-Ulcer-Herbert. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Saccades Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Back-Pain-Brenda, Little Inchies, Fungal Lesion were all medicated. The none Carer and prescription items were applied to many parts of the body.
Saccades eye drops. He was gobsmacked at getting some of the liquid into the eye, for once. Of course, he managed to get some in his nose and mouth as per usual.
A second hobbling speedily attended visit to the Porcelain Throne was followed by taking two Dioctyl® capsules. To counter Trotsky Terence’s return! Messy, very much so! Took ages to clean things up afterwards.
Carer Richard arrived. Soon got the medications sorted, and he made sure I took them and didn’t drop any, bless him.
It was his last call, so he spent a little while having a chinwagging session with me. The lad’s gone through many similar procedures as I have, but poor Richard got them a lot earlier in his life. Which I appreciated.
He’s coped amazingly well with things. A caring bloke, too.
He seemed to be cheery,
And, off Richard did flee,
I had another pee…
Colour chart for the wee,
Was on number three,
Now six, it smelt musty!
Oh, back to the lavatory,
Oh, what a malady!
Well Into The Afternoon…
But no one had told Inchcock, the chatterbox…
Chattering to himself, sipping dandelion & burdock!
Thinking he may just wash his socks…
A message comes through on his voicebox…
Unsolicited mail, through his letterbox…
He forgets the socks: arrears in his Carer fees shocks!
Over £400 – Oh, Hollyhocks!
That’s not what he said, but it also rhymes with Bullocks!
He plans to get it paid by the following equinox!
A change of nosh style, I’m watching the size of my hips!
Vegetarian sausages, peas, swede and lentil potatoes…
Chilli sauce, onion gravy, a banana, oranges…Oh, and chips!
I forgot to take from the fridge the tomatoes…
And now my rear quarters blows and blows!
The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme Series
The extra handicap of the reaction to the Booster Jab; made my doing anything, taking an inordinately much longer time than usual. Thus, it was nearly midnight last night by the time I’d got the blog finished and posted. Although aching and in pain, and really needed to get some sleep. The mind and body wanted to close down. But, Inchcock, an epicurean, foodie, glutton, gourmet, chow-hounder, and well-known foodaholic, put an end to any thoughts of joining in with any Sweet Morpheusness for a while.
I foolishly started to make a belated meal, and a mini-feast it was too! At last, come around about 01:00hrs, I got it served up.
Raw fresh peas from Nigeria. (Shame the ones from Peru are not available, they were sweeter than the Nigerian ones by a mile, but beggars can’t be choosers when things are out of season) Oven-baked potato slices, tomatoes, crispy smoked bacon was the main course. The bacon was eaten in slices of milk roll bread and was dunked in some absolutely great tasting Thai sweet chilli sauce. I was satisfied with the substituted bottle; as for where I got it from, well, I’ll get some more from Amazon.
Which reminds me, I’ve got some diabetic bamboo socks delivered today. Well, that’s what I say! Bearing in mind my cock-up stroke Whoopsiedangleplop with Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s order dates, I get them arriving yesterday; when my Google calendar clear says that the Sainsbury one is coming Monday and the Morrison one on Tuesday… I’m sinking into the morass mess of mental mayhem of memory mishaps. It has to be admitted. Vascular Dementia Doreen is to blame, methinks.
Of course, you have to bear in mind that it is me we are talking about! No chance! Anyway, I feasted well, did some belching, took an extra Codeine, and flaked out on the recliner searching for sleep…
Sleep as I recall it, when I got up for my fifth wee-wee, at 03:00hrs, seemed far away, a luxury denied me again! Thought Storms Stewart kicked of the instant the eyelids drooped and threatened to nod off. It’s incredible how many things you can fear, hate, smile and laugh about, returning memories to torment you on your failed options and actions. Self-disgust, the injustices of those in charge, shames… not to mention the ailments having a go at you. I had no idea what time I got off into the land of nod, but I kept waking up thinking, I’d better get up, the carer will be here soon – then nodded off again.
The Doctor’s response to this problem when I spoke with her (a few years ago now, of course) Was, “Yes, many older people get this… any other problems?” I decided not to bother her further.
As I woke for the umpteenth time and was going through the routine of planning to get up, then falling asleep again, the door chime rang out its loud, ♫ Oh, Susanna ♫ tune. Gawd, it was late! Carer Richard came in to find a foggy-brained Inchcock staggering up out of the recliner. Hahaha! Fair enough, he does usually find me fuddle-brained anyway.
Richard asked the required medical question, as they do on a Monday. And did a wristlet alarm check to ensure the signal was getting through to the Nottingham City Homes people.
It was his last call, and I enjoyed a little nattering and moaning session with the lad. I thanked and treated him, and off he went.
Then as I put the kettle on belatedly, I took some shots of the morning’s misty views from the kitchenette window.
The photographs didn’t help my spirits much, Didn’t cheer me up; I still felt I was a bit of a schmuck, An old man, (Gillie) again being lovestruck… If she was to adopt me, I’d be thunderstruck!
I wonder when the socks will arrive, they’re made of bamboo, Had to get some; it’s too cold not to wear them now, Boo-Hoo! I’ll check the Amazon tracker; that’s what I’ll do… Nine stops away, couldn’t ask for better, could you! The socks seem to be of reasonable value… One can’t say that very often of Amazon, can you?
In an effort to cheer missen up, I perused the box of gifts that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent to me from Fort Thomas in the USA. I know, I wasn’t going to open it until Christmas Day, but anyway…
The box within the box was so pretty, it had to have been decided on by a lady. I put it on the server trolley and investigated away! But I’ll not put them on display until Christmas day.
Just look at all the work Lisa must have put into making these for me!
She even named them for me in the card she sent with them! ♥
Crazy Furry Goat (Goliath), Long Eared Rabbit (Roger), Wacky Cat Kawaii. Pink Fuzzy Monster (Malcolm), Rudikth, the Red-Nosed Reindeer! The names in brackets are those I’m considering giving them when they get on display and become along with Koala and Teddy Bear, my morning chinwagging partners! ♥
I’ll have to make sure I give them names that I might remember. Otherwise, they will get confused about who I am talking to if I use the wrong word. Hehehe! They put in some ‘Moon Pie’ cakes as well. They are not available in the UK. And they look rather tasty! I shall not indulge until Christmas day!
When I showed them off to the carer who came to check on my medicines stock, she thought they were just like a Wagon Wheel. When I put a picture of an unopened lemon Wagon Wheels on my blog a while back, Billum said how they looked like Moon Pies. Thus they sent them to me to try. Bless their cotton socks! ♥
♥ Thanks again, HRH Lisa and Billum! ♥
The door chime rang forth again;
♫ I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee, I’m going to Louisiana, my true love for to see It rained all night the day I left; the weather it was dry The sun so hot I froze to death; Susanna, don’t you cry. Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me cos’ I come from Alabama With my banjo on my knee… ♫
The daycarer from the Meridian office was the day carer; she’s come to check that my medical stocks were sufficient for over the holidays. She thought the Moon Pies were like Wagon Wheels… Oh, I’ve already said this, I guess, sorry!
She thinks I’ll need some more Codeines getting in to last me. Which is not surprising, with all the extras I’ve been taking; What with the 15hr agony of the hospital trolley marathon, the bruised bum, then the absolute nightmare of the reaction to the booster-jab, I think I needed, they got me through anyway. I expect someone somewhere to believe I’ve become addicted, however, and another lecture from the Doctor, of course, over the phone.
Another Escapee Pea!
Making a fresh brew, I trod on something rock-hard on the kitchen floor, almost like an electric shock, it made, jump a smidge. It seems lately that these escapee garden peas are coming out of hiding regularly? Haha!
I checked again in the Mazon bamboo sock front situation. And guess what? As you see, this was the message I got from them. Delivered today; your package was left near the front door or porch. Well, it hadn’t been! I got myself into a mini-flap when I wondered if it had been delivered to Winchester Court in error?
So, I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Warden, Desktop Dancer, and who is also not interested in adopting me! Tsk! It’s just not fair! She said it might be downstairs in the lobby; I mentioned Winchester Court, she said the flat is empty. I had a vision of them leaving the stuff outside the door of an empty apartment – if so, it would not last long! Deana said she’d look for me and let me know. I thanked her and returned to the computer in another failed effort.
Hehe! Ferreting around for something to nibble, I came across the packet of new mini-cheddars I’d ordered, but I resisted the temptation. I’ll have them later when I’m more depressed or even hungrier.
The right arm looked betterish, and the pain has subsided a lot now.
Little Inchies fungal lesion had not bled all day. I liked that a lot! But I am in no way being fooled; it’ll come again!
The legs (the Knees) had improved beyond recognition this Monday. I had a job to recognise them as my own. Although, Arthur Itis was getting a little frisky with it when I was writing this.
Warden Deana Saves The Day
Deana rang the door chime and entered – with the parcels of socks in her hand, bless her! They had been left down in the front lobby by the Amazon delivery urchin. Along with several other packages for different people! I thanked her kindly.
Cleaning the teeth broke another tooth, The few teggies left are getting corrosive, But I wash brushing a little aggressive, Shaving, not a single cut or nick, Showered, I almost felt hygienic… On the radio, the London philharmonic, Stubbed my toe; that was chronic… But, I don’t want to nitpick, Even though I tripped over the walking stick!
Food Glorious Food
The dessert was a bit special. On the label, it read; Raspberry Gourmet Greek-style thick & creamy live yoghurt with fruit layer. Confusing innit? Tasted okay. Cooked seasoned sliced Polish pork knuckle with seasonings sarnies, Nigerian podded peas, and crispy chips (oven fries). Flavour rating; 8/10.
Late Phone Call
A call from the opticians came in. Which left me more confused than ever. According to the lady calling me, I did not have an appointment with them. But when I called in there last week on my way to the dentist, I called in to book an appointment, got home and put a date in the calendar, January 4th 2022. She said they had not made an appointment for me?
I’m getting mixed up here; back to the phone call: She asked if I could come in the morning (today at 09:00hrs for an eye test? Presumably, they had had a cancellation?).
Being the keen attentive, alert, sharp sort of person that I’m not, I made another Whoopsiedangleplop; I told her her ‘Yes’ I’d come. Then realised I had the Amazon order coming? Too late to get help ringing her back; the staff had all gone!
Evening Carer Valerie arrived, and I soon fell asleep after she’d gone.
Fed up! Woke up wide awake at midnight and got this blog finished and posted, a little late, but betterer late than never!
A few years ago, before the onset of the awful Coronavirus onslaught and his latest disabilities, Inchcock used to get out and about. To feed his beloved Mallard Ducks at Arno Hill Park Lake. Taking the safe to feed them pellets and seeds, the old fart was in his element. He was even attempting to learn the quacking language from the Mallards! It gave him someone to talk to, not any humans, naturally.
So looking forward to his day out, he rose early to ensure everything was done and readied on time for him to catch the bus. Took a while to find his keys and bus pass. It did not go well…
05:00hrs: He woke and was soon up and getting on, carefully carrying out his essential ablutionalisationings. Really, he should have got the message and not bothered to go out today. Things did not go too well!
One of his top front teeth cracked, cleaning them. The traditional cut shaving, well, three actually. Nasal cleaner bottle dropped and broken. Banged his head on the sink when he dropped a razor as he bent to pick it up. Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding in the shower.
A late dizzy spell, and he cracked his shoulder on the shower-power box. Things were not going well!
Medicationalisationing the fungal lesion on Little Inchie was particularly painful and brought a few naughty words from the old chap. When after thinking he’s won, the bleeding started again, he cursed with an unexpected venom! He forgot to turn of the heater in the wet room. Going back in to use the Porcelain Throne later, he realised when thereat hit him as he entered the room – stubbing his toe against the creases, feared sock-Glide-Glenda. Things were not going very well!.
However, being used to these many Whoopsiedangleplops and the more frequent Accifauxpas, he soon felt his old chirpy self again after stopping the bleeding and taking his medications. Then he hoovered the mess up. Not looking very good for today?
He put the computer on to check the times of the buses. But Virgin Media and Liberty-Global top dog Mike Fries had failed yet again.
As Inchcock got everything he hoped together and was moving into the hallway on his way to the door… the wheel fell off of his Walker-guide trolley!
Unfazed, Inchcock retrieved the fallen wheel, and as he picked it up, it somehow morphed into about ten or twelve pieces, then fell on the newly hoovered carpet! Now he was fazed!
He’d missed the bus, of course. Spent the hour swearing, cursing and picking up the bits from the wheel. But it takes a lot to completely destroy Inchcocks spirit. He decided to walk without the guide (having no choice if he was to visit and gossip with his mallards). He set off, full of renewed anticipation for an enjoyable trip on the L9 bus and getting some pleasure from mother nature and the mallard ducks.
A note on the bus stop pole pointed out that service will not be operating today due to roadworks. Back to normal tomorrow. Not a good start this!
Inchie dropped back down into a sort of semi-moroseness, tinged with a high degree of pissed-offeredness! The clot thought perhaps he could go to the Nottingham canal to feed the birds, like the previous week? Then it clicked in; the fool would still not have a bus to use to get there either! What an absolute moron! Things were getting to him, now – Not good!
A Dizzy Dennis visited while he was pondering what to do – followed by a worryingly strong ‘Mind-Fog’, and he sat down on the bus shelter and went into a few minutes of daydreaming mode.
Finally, making up his mind. He’ll climb up the steep gravel footpath into the Woodthorpe Grange Park and have a search to see if he can see any of the wild ducks and hens that frequent it. Mayhaps he thought, I can visit the garden centre as well. Cheered a smidge now, he set off up the hill and began to peruse the woods and paths. But no signs of any wold life, the wasn’t many humans either, but that didn’t bother him.
He legged it down the avenue to the Garden Centre and Tropical Plant House. It was closed! This was not a good day for the old codger, and an iota of self-pity was brewing!
He hobbled around painfully as Arthur Itis kicked off in both knees. Resolutely searching for the wildlife birds. Of course, he had no luck, well, no good luck! Now lousy luck… that was in good supply, and about to get crueller, too!
His Nokia 100 virtually antique mobile phone burst into life, and he dropped it as he fumbled to get at it before it stopped ringing. He didn’t! He fell as he bent to pick it up, fortunately landing in some unstinging nettle bushes, which also cushioned the belly flop fall, right on the epigastrium coeliac plexus (I looked that up to sound clever, Hehe!) which started off Reflux Roger along with Arthur Itis. He had to crawl on all-fours to get to a tree stump, to haul his overweight, blubbery, lardaceous, wobbly-bellied body, back up onto its feet. Cutting his shins as he progressed. It was now a worserer day than ever for the pitiful old goat!
Now, almost a physical and mental wreck, he decided to make for home. Thinking he’d take a shortcut via Winchester Street, as all the aged-whimp wanted, was to get back to the flat, take some painkillers, use the Porcelain Throne, clean up his injuries, and make a good strong brew of Glengettie tea, with dunked shortcake biscuits!
Hahaha! Of course, his plans were stymied; they always are!
The road was blocked off – he might have worked it out earlier when he read the cancelled bus notice, but there you are. To make things worse, it started to rain, and his brolly was still in his broken-wheeled walker-guide trolley back in the flat! Thick as a plank, Inchie!
He did resist crying, but only just. After taking a marathon walk around the park again, he arrived at the lobby doors, wet, in pain, miserable, bloodied, and totally discouraged with life! He’d fought his way through the woods, bushes, rain, the end car park and back to the flats. Showing worrying signs of losing it… Jabbering on to himself and having a distinct twitch in his right eye now… not to mention his trousers being so wet and heavy, his braces were not holding them up far enough.
Once Inchie got inside the dry and warm lobby, the lad immediately began to cheer up a little! History should have told him not to bother!
Residents had gathered in the lift lobby – in vain hopes of one of them working. This just shows not only the stupidity but the banality and hopelessness of Inchcock’s everyday existence! Of course, with the day has been going so wrong, he should have known better than to allow thoughts of semi-contentment and hopes to rise.
Yet astoundingly, the dripping wet, frustrated, injured Inchie wasted no time in legging it limpingly, painfully slowly, up the 24 flights of concert stairs, towards his flat. (Desperate measures call for desperate actions!) He was urgently in need of the Porcelain Throne!
At the flat door, he fumbled about, still dripping wet; he gained access and almost bounced off of the walls in his rush to the Porcelain Throne. Whipped off his wet trousers and protection pants and plonked himself down on the pan… the evacuation began immediately, and it was all over within about a minute. Inchy just sat there, breathing a sigh of relief. Which was tempered by the cleaning up and medicating that needed doing next.
The wet (possibly 85% rainwater – 14% wee-wee, and 1% blood?) PP’s first, they had to be rung out, packed up in plastic bags to later go to the waste chute.
Unbeknownst to Inchcock, Little Inchies fungal lesion had burst open in the tumble he presumes. So that was medicated straight away. The neighbours always know when the Betamethasone cream is applied to the fungal lesion, the loud Argh, and Bloody hells give it away. Inchies day is just not getting any better, is it?
New PPs on, Piles of clothes into the laundry box. Rubbish bags were taken away.
He found a letter that had been delivered when he returned from taking the waste bags to the chute. It was confirmation from the Council that I am not going to get any attendance allowance. This really rubbed it in for Inchie – Hence his day continued in its ‘Let’s Annoy Inchcock Mode!
Too weary for making and eating any food, Inchie got down in his £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.
He was still waiting for sleep or at least rest of some sort, about two hours later.
Some thunderclap music from the yobboes on Woodthorpe Park having a party started up. Heavy Metal brand, Inchie thinks.
So he got up and went on the computer to start tomorrows blog off…
Upon waking, Inchcock will often do a sensual check on any ailment attacks or changes. Sometimes, a discussion will occur twixt Inchcock and a specific ailment, typically one that has been giving him a little extra pain and, or hassle. When these occur, the silly old goat usually makes an Ode and graphic about his demented, dreamt up, nonsensical clap-trapping, as below from an old one.
For some unknown reason, the idiot asked me to show this graphic, as he puts it: ‘Wot I Made!’ cause he’s seems to think it is one of his rare, almost non-existent successes?
As his Alto-Ego, I will now let the uneducated, lonely old fool take over the writing of this rubbish. TTFN.
Once the physical activity starts in the morning, I often wait for the mental conditioning to begin; it usually catches up within a few minutes. It can take hours, but not often.
They were tackled then.
Sphygmomanometer showed Sys and Dia, readings high,
The Wee-Wee chart: I need to drink more! Gin & Dry?
Would it help if I go to a detoxify?
On this mind of mine, I cannot rely!
A quick look for any new damage, I don’t want to oversimplify,
Another bruise was found on the top of my left thigh…
An unknown round welt, right arm, that I can’t quantify,
The torso seems to have started to transmogrify?
Heart Op Scars raised, itching again, certainly uglify!
The broken Terence Tooth hit the pain-boards bullseye!
Shuddering, Shoulder Shirley’s eased off, but why?
Hit my head on the stove but didn’t get a black eye!.
The following tasks were ablutionary,
Not worn any socks since about July,
Cold, Brr! should I dare to use Sock-Glide Georgina?
I’ve no medical aids that are any meaner!
One Sock-Glide injury needed micro-surgery!
Hickeys, bruises, cuts, and a bleeding periphery,
Stubbed toes, damaged knees, I felt all fluttery…
Should I put my socks on? I recalled the imagery,
Of the last time, I fought Georgina, bitterly!
I chickened out of wearing socks; what a mockery!.
Anytime in the next three hours, cometh Meridian,
An incredible variety of Carers, one who is Balearian,
Unless I misheard her, and she is Algerian?
Not that it matters, none of them shows me derision,
An American gal, English, British, and an Assyrian,
All make a positive impression!
Porcelain Throne Sessions
Ah, every visit is a different evacuation, indeed.
Some days it can be half an hour, then I’ve only peed!
Rock-solid torpedoes, agony, things bleed! Next time, liquid, 30 seconds, messy but what speed!
Housework Tended To
Took the chance to clean the fridge up, ready for the delivery to arrive shortly – well, I hope so.
Iceland Delivery Arriveth!
Then, on with Prepping Josie’s Meal
Got it delivered almost on time for her.
I was so proud of how Josie liked the look and smell,
The beef arrived two hours later, took in the dish for the gal.
Water chestnuts, potatoes, tomatoes, beef chunks as well,
Leeks and onions, chilli, three beans, the lovely smell!
Seasoned with liquid smoke, paprika, beef flavour gel,
Said she loved the cream Pretzel,
Even called me an old Angel!
I mentioned the extra lidded pot for the Damsel,
To have later, quantity double,
Too long at her door, I did not dwell,
I sensed she was hungry… Oh, yes, I can tell!
End Car Park
End car park area busy today.
I shall have to go now. Most likely the evening Carer will crave my body, mind and bank account… Ahem!
023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).
I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.
I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.
The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.
Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.
Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.
I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.
It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!
I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.
Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!
The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!
The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.
I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!
I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.
Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!
Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.
I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.
I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…
Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.
The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.
No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!
As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…
So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!
No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.
I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.
I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!
I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!
Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!
I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.
The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!
I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?
All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.
How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?
Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?
The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.
When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!
I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.
As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.
The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!
I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.
Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.
I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!
Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.
I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.
While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!
So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!
I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!
I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!
As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥
I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!
Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.
Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.
Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!
23:05hrs: I woke-up, requiring a wee-wee. Thus, I fought my sadly overly-stomached, jelly-like bellied body out of the recliner, wobbled onto my painful feet (*with the painful over-long, toe-nails), and caught my balance and grabbed Metal Mickey.
I limped to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), expected a liquid surge to blast out, but only got a WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) outpouring.
Went to empty and sanitise the bucket and needed another wee-wee while washing my hands from the first one! A WDFL mode (Weak-Sprinkling-Fountain-Like) evacuation! Rewashed the hands, and changed PP’s, then off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I took this picture of the cloudy night sky from the window.
I noticed how I had still got the watch on and also how red the skin was looking?
Made the brew, had another wee-wee (Tsk!) and got the Health Checks sorted out. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd), had the SYS 148, DIA 77, and the Pulse a little higher at 93bpm.
The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer gave a 37.2°c – 98.96°f, which was not too bad at all!
I went on the NHS site and but the program’s BP results and got this resulting graphic. Which I copied and pasted. The BP was rated as a little better than yesterdays.
But not to get too excited, it’s still in the High Blood Pressure level. Tsk!
Microsoft Excel allowed me access, and I updated the Health log. The pulse showed up as in the amber, but that’s better than the red ones earlier in the week.
I had to have yet another wee-wee! But this time, I checked the colour against the NHS Healthy Wee card.
I’d come right down from Level Six yesterday, Very Dehydrated; To level four – just dehydrated! So that was hopeful!
I made another brew of Glengettie tea, and I took yet another weak wee-wee, then got the photographs uploaded and tweaked for yesterdays and this diary.
I concentrated on updating the Sunday post. It took me a few hours, but I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link and Pinterested some snaps.
I went on Facebook catching up (three wee-wees!) A big job this morning; I’d missed some things off yesterday, Humph! Then the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room, I limped, with the toes really playing up and stinging now?
The Throne session was not a good one at all!
Luckily, I didn’t delay getting to the Throne, and as I sat myself down, the flow began!
Then it stopped sharply. I got the pen and crossword book.
A minute later, it started again.
I could tell by the feel of things that it was a Trotsky Terence dominated affair!
I rose to look at the damage and was shocked by the amount of almost liquid evacuated red and black coloured stuff in the bowl!
This, of course, did not clear on the first flush. Not even the second and third either.’
Many manual tank refills by jug from the sink were needed, at least four, I reckon! I’m getting fed-up with having to do this!
As I was putting the lid back on and replacing the removed items, a sudden pain underfoot arrived?
I’d trodden on the pen! Smashed it, naturally!
Hurt the foot, goes without saying really, sorry.
I replaced the none-working radio and clock, toilet rolls, and kitchen towels. I’m getting fed-up with having to do this hemerine every morning! Still, I mustn’t complain, things could be worse, and they have been regularly! Humph!
Had a final wash, checked the taps (faucets) were not running, and back to the computer.
I went to take the morning medications, swallowing a Numark Anti-Diahorrea tablet with the others, and pressed-on with perusing and commenting on the new posts folks had posted. Next, I read and replied to some WP comments that had come in.
Then I needed another wee-wee! I mean, why? I’m only passing dribbles, but very often. With bother of intermittent PMDing (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling)! Oh, my, the whipper-snappers don’t know what’s coming to them in later life, poor things! Well, poor me, too! Hahaha!
After a few more spelling and grammar errors, it was time for the ablutions to be tackled. As seems usual lately, I got side-tracked and wandered of to wash the thick quilted jacket. I left it soaking in fabric softener and got to the wet-room for a jolly good. Much needed, cleaning up session.
Which went amazingly well! It was as if SSS and Nicodemus had turned themselves off, out of pity, to dissimulate their real intentions or to have me over on the floor later, I’m not sure, yet. Hahaha!
Sure, there were a good few dropsies, but nothing harmful, dangerous, overly painful, or even irking! It was as if an angel had got my back! It went so smoothly, I started to feel worried at the sheer unnaturalness of it. The drying-off was easy-peasy, no falls, no bangs! Even the medicationalisation was done without hassle or Accifauxpas! But, I chickened-out at putting any socks on, no point in pushing my luck too far; I felt sure I could hear a disappointed sigh from Sock-Glide-Glenda?.
I poked the new mark on the right foot, no pain at all, no itching either. I put some cream on it, but it turned a mustard colour, and it was a clear gel? But again, painless! Things can’t go on like this!
I got the handwashing rinsed and fabric-softened, wrung, hung and all done, hung them on coat hangers above the sink. The thick quilt shirt come jacket is going to take some drying. It should be ready to wear by the end of November, I think. Hehe!
My next task was getting the waste bags sorted out and made-up, and getting them in the box on the walker-guide trolley. Not an easy task! Bt the time I’d sorting myself out, there were two more bags to be added!
Trying to escape with the walker from the flat, I had a bit of bother. The box fell off, but I was in good spirits, if nervous, with the good luck… well, absence of bad-luck I’d had this morning. I soon got them back in the box and on the trolley walker.
I poddled along the length of the lift lobby and got into the room with, again, relative ease. Got all the bags down the chute, without any trapped fingers, dizzy’s, falls, trips, bangs, or knocks either!
Then, I bravely went down in the lift, on my way to visit the ICL, wardens interrogation room to advise them of the arrival of the Easter Eggs coming tomorrow. Well, that’s if Iceland and Sainsbury’s don’t substitute anything like pickled walnuts or toothpaste for them! Hahaha! But my main aim was to get some photographs of the Winwood Heights complex and get a natter in with somebody.
Which, after getting no answer to my phone call and no one in the office, I did on my walk back to the block of flats. The glass must be busy.
The top photo I took as I hobbled to the office, the regular bus out trippers were there on there way to the bus stop. Christine and Roy, and Angela were there, but I got no response to my greetings. Chance are they didn’t hear me, and I didn’t them. Hehehe! Old age, eh?
On the way back to Woodthorpe, I took a Winchester Court shot on the other side of the Walk, then Winwood Court, then my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park area. I’ll try ringing Deana, or whoever is in, later; I need to find out when the subsequent prescriptions are due and if I have an appointment for when the foot lady starts working again, tomorrow or not. The toenails are getting a bit painful now.
I got in the flat, having actually talked with no one, failed again!), and made an Iceland order up.
I found an easy method on the web of making pickled vinegar. Then, I added some bits to Sainsbury’s order. I put on some distilled pickling, wine and balsamic vinegar. I hope I can use dried dill in it, but I’ll give it a go. I’ve never had pickled vinegar and look forward to trying to make some. I’ll have all needed, I think, to give it a go. The vinegar, salt, sugar, black pepper, and a screw lid jar, but no fresh dill, just dried. Slicing the cucumber might be a bit risky, cut-finger-wise, though. Haha! I’ll ask the ailments to be incredibly kind to me when I make it.
Then I pondered over what I was going to have for today’s meal. After a bit of oohing and aahing, I decided to use up the last of the garden peas in a Chilli con carnie, and add passata with basil, to it. I took a packet of whole bread thins from the freezer to defrost on the window’s shelve.
Went on Gmail to see if owt had come in, and Jenny had sent one. Bless her, I replied, thanking her. Then I had a look for any WordPress comments, and I responded to it. Much time was spent trying to master the Kodak camera, far too long, without any progress being made. But, in the morning, I plan to use Kodak again – I’m determined to mast it! But don’t really expect to!
Then I went into mind-changing, Dithering mode again! I redecided over the meal. The peas, tomatoes and cooked meat, potato salad, roast onions, Marmite cheese, caramelised red onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins, chestnuts, and a custard & jelly dessert instead.
And by golly, it went down well! It took me some getting through, but I gave it a deserved flavour rating of 7/10. Ate it all bar the last slice of wholemeal bread thins!
Miraculously, the wee-wee I had after washing the pots was the last one of the day!
I reckon I settled down and had an uninterrupted straight five hours of heavenly bliss with Sweet Morpheus. Waking up, desperate for a wee-wee…
23:40hrs: I stirred, after a decent five-hours of undisturbed sleep, in need of an urgent wee-wee. I disentangled my elephantine over-wobbly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and stood up to catch my balance…
Neuropathy Pete’s adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a concise but brutal flailing performance. Luckily before I’d hobbled away from the recliner, which I sat down on again post-haste. No harm was done; I was back up and wee-weeing in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) within two minutes. The evacuation was of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style.
I got the Health Checks done, starting with the BP Sphygmomanometer, And another decent-looking set of results this morning. SYS 144, DIA 72, and the PULSE down to only 82!
The contactless thermometer was in the green, and it read 36.8°c – 98.24°f, much better than late!
I went to open Microsoft Excel to update the recordings, but once again, it was updating ‘Office’ and would not allow me access to the programme. Cracklepackers!
I had a devil of a job in updating the Wednesday Diary. So many late photos yesterday to old and sort before even starting on updating the wordage! SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up and making progression even slower than ever. A little annoying! However, I eventually got it finished and treble checked, find endless errors to put right. Tsk! I’ve probably missed some of them; sorry about that if I have. I had a weak wee-wee.
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and then posted-off the blog. Pinterested a couple of snaps. Spent a few minutes getting this block started and went on Facebooking catch-up.
Perused the Facebook reader. Then read and replied to some WordPress comments. And got rid of another weak wee-wee. And for the first time in 30hrs+, the need for the Porcelain Throne showed up. Off to the wet room. I’ll see how things pan-out, then I can decide whether to take another of the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets or not.
It felt strange in my not hurrying to the toilet for once. I thought things would be tighter, and they were, but still gooey. Not bleeding, and only a small evacuation, which was black in colour? As usual, my habit of dithering over choice and decision making was rampant, and I could not tell if I needed another Numark tablet or not!
On the way back to the computer, Cathy Cartilage joined in the pain giving ailment list. Gawd, she was giving it to me!
I did some WP Comments answering. And went on to the WordPress Reader section.
The howling wind seemed to be getting louder now. Still, it masks the ‘World Wide Hum’ a bit. I’ve never known it so bad since I moved here? I bet it wakes some poor soul up!
I got dirted again when I put the kettle on and did some handwashing. Some cotton long and short socks and the made in Myanmar (Burmese), too small to fit me, grey zip-up jacket. Done, wrung, and hung to dry above the kitchen sink.
Another summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I ambled along to the wet room. (Well, the toilet was in there, so it seemed a logical move) Hahaha! Again, as the first visit not long ago, the evacuation was only a small, once, but far messier than the last one was!
At least this helped me make my mind up to make a brew of Glengettie and take the morning medications with an added Numark anti-diarrhorea tablet.
I had a look at the leg ulcer. I’d gained some blotch marks around the ankle, and the old wound looked like it might be flaring up again? Mmm?
I got back and made a brew and took the medications. As I was taking them, it sounded like the ‘Hum’ and the howling winds were in competition to be the loudest. It was not helping my concentration at all.
As I got stripped, I could see that the ankle looked much betterer than earlier? Then realised I was using the Kodak camera; that’s why things looked brighter. I put the Kodak camera away and used the Canon for a while after this.
The session went very well, indeed! The dropsies added up to about eighteen/twenty, I reckon. But no tumbles, no dizzies or bleeding either! Shaving produced not a single nick! No falling or injuries during and dressing! The medicationing was fine! Mind you, because of this good luck, I didn’t put any socks on. (I had too later; when it got so much colder!)
All done, I got the missed socks from yesterday, hand-washed, and hung.
I moved the earlier hand-washed grey jumper onto the serving tray and placed it near the kitchen wall heater. I must keep checking it for safety. As it is not really dry enough yet.
Then I made up some black waste bags and a recycling one and got them in the walker-guide box.
I trundled off into the foyer and out to the lift lobby and down to the chute room. The first bag I got out of the box looked a little too large, I squashed best I could, and it went down with no trouble at all, as did the other bags. I’m was in danger of a Smug-Mode coming on here. Hehehe!
Back to the flat and checked the Amazon tracker. The pill pots weren’t even out for delivery yet; no, it looks like it might be another late stay-awake night for me.
I took a picture just as the sun disappeared and the rain stopped.
I had a nosey at the YourArea Emagazine. At least the Covid-19 new cases are well down on last week!
Stores closing in Nottingham, fast-food stores opening in Nottingham. All confusing?
Well, what a shock on the local weather forecast?
The lackadaisicalness and weariness came over me, and I became pretty useless brain-wise. I put on the Amazon tracker and just sort of sat there waiting for it to get closer and arrive. Doing very little, apart from doing some self-analysing and fault finding for about an hour or so. Then the door chimes rang out! The Amazon pill-pods were there on the floor outside the door.
I collected them and did a visual inspection. At least when the next month’s prescriptions arrive, I can sort them out using these new pods, hopefully easier than last month with all the mixed empty mishmash of pods to get confused with. Well, that’s the plan anyway.
Totally drained now, mentally for some unknown reason. I got the nosh prepared. I ate it all. (By gum, I’m eating well recently, too well?)
I foolishly thought I’d stay up to watch the two episodes of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ on channel 11. Not a chance! I was in the land of nod before the programme even started! Waking up to the tune of the end credits playing. I considered getting up to wash the pots and dishes, but I was soon back with Sweet Morpheus.
But it was a fitful sleep this time. For the next five hours, I seemed to blink awake and drift back into slumber so often? There were no thought storms involved, though—just a vague sort of ‘Oh sod it!’ response each time I fluttered begrudgingly awake and drifted back into a tristful sleep of sorts.
00:30hrs: I woke to require a wee-wee and fought to dislodge my bouncy, prodigiously over-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.
Caught my balance (eventually) and meandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). I suffered from a lot of PMD (Pre Micturition Dribbling) before I got there. Embarrassment-Mode-Engaged! As I decided to go to the wet room for a clean-up, gaseous wind escaped from the rear end, and the haste to the Porcelain Throne took on a new urgency!
I got there barely in time. Trotsky Terence was in charge again, even more so. The evacuation started of its own accord, Wet, but gungy and gooey again! What a mess to clean up, the bowl, me, from the escaping wee-wee, swapped PPs… and had a wash. Then needed to refill the water tank a few times by hand from the sink to clear the evacuated product! This was too much like hard-work to wake up to, Tsk!
I got the Health Checks done. The Boot’s Chinese Sphygmomanometer gave forth worrying results again. SYS 162, DIA down to 76, and the pulse was up to 91bpm!
I’ll check on the NHS site in a bit, but it didn’t look right to me.
Hong Kong made contactless thermometer shoed 371°c – 98.78°f. It’s not too high, methinks, or is it?
I went on the NHS BP site to find out if I was in the red or amber. I soon found it was well in the red High Blood Pressure area on the graph.
But it was actually a bit down on yesterday morning’s reading? (I think).
Mind you, yesterday being a Sunday, I’m not really surprised. Even the thoughts of Sundays send my BP, pulse and depression rising! Hehehe!
I tried to go on to Microsoft Excel, but again it wouldn’t let me. Gave some garbage about being updated again? Most annoying considering I’m paying for some extras on it… mind you, I can’t remember what they are supposed to be! I’m doing a lot that nowadays… not remembering!
I had to put the Canon camera on charge and nipped onto the balcony to take the view and Chestnut Walk photographs, using the Kodak.
Then, the Porcelain Throne visit no. 2 arrived! A repeat performance as the first visit, but, thankfully, without the PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble). I don’t want to fill this diary with wee-weeing, but they got more frequent throughout the day and were all a smidgeon painful. Humph! Maybe I took two Furesomides, one being instead of the Beta-blocker?
I completed the Sunday Diary updating and emailed the link. Pinterested a couple of photos. Made a brew of Glengettie and back on the computer. Made a start on this diary, then went on Facebooking for a while. Next, I visited the WP Reader Section. Then read and respond to some comments. Only two today – am I losing my appeal? Hahaha!
I made and sent off an order for Iceland for delivery next Friday, 12th, twixt 06:00 > 08:00. Started sneezing again, and the shivers have come back?
I’ll make another brew and got some biscuits to nibble. Then off to get the ablutions done – I got side-tracked yet again, and I got the handwashing in the sink to soak in the Surf with tropical Lily and Yang Yang, soap powder, for after the showering.
Off to the wet room. Ablutioning: It’s never gone better than this morning! A total of about six dropsies, Grrreat! Only two tiny nicks shaving, and it seemed like a flash, and I was all done and towelling off. And; the medicating was problemless!
Which, of course, brought me to a decision making time… I was going to wear a pair of shorter cotton socks today – which I was tempted to put on with Sock-Glide-Glenda!
Changed my mind and adopted the ‘in the corner’ position with the door behind me. I flipping changed my mind again, as I recalled yesterday’s tumble doing it this way, albeit with the extra-long socks. Then bravely, nae… heroically, I decided to use Glenda, fearless I was! (But, I soon turned into a whimpering wreck!)
I got both socks on without getting any bleeding, trapped fingers or stubbed toes, or welts accrued. Just as I was considering upgrading my Smug-Mode… I dropped the Sock-Glide-Glenda as I putting her back on the shower chair! A corner landed on my right ankle, and it bounced up again; it clouted and set off poor Cathy’s Cartilage and slid down ti hit my left big toe a wallop!
Of course, I merely laughed it off and had a joke with Glenda as I threw her in the corner of the wet room (luckily resisting the urge to kick the damned frame!) Fighting off crying, gritting my teeth and feeling a right fool! Things were going so well, as well! Thunderclapilisations!
I got the Phorpain Gel out again and gave Cathy’s knee a good rubbing in of it. But, I had only myself to blame. But I didn’t. Hehehe!
I got the handwashing done, a bit more of it today. I used the powder Surf; it does smell nice! Standing there in washer-woman style at the sink for a while, upsetting Cartilage Cathy, as was expected. I must try to remember to keep ringing the clothes out!
I made-up an Iceland order. For Friday 12th, between 0600 > 08:00hrs.
Then prepped some leeks to go into the crock-pot for later. I may have been a little risky, with Trotsky Terence being so rampant, but I decided to have a can of Chilli-Con-Carne this afternoon, and I aim to add some peas and the leeks. They smelt excellent cooking. I added an Oxo cube and some Bisto Best beef granules.
Then with Iceland not selling the anti-Diahorrea medication yesterday, I had a look at what was available on Amazon. A box of 30 sachets of ‘Specta’ acute & chronic, Instant Relief powders was ordered.
Then I checked on the Amazon site to see what time they may arrive, and I found they were due tomorrow, not today. Tsk! Humph! I got myself in a pickle there! Rather confused?
Maybe I shouldn’t risk the Chilli-Con-Carne, then? Mmm!
Then it dawned on, the Vampire nurse is a little later than usual arriving? Mind, you, some don’t come until it’s my head down-time.
I do feel a right schnook! I had a look at the DVT Warfarin card for the last visit. The next vampire nurse blood test is not until the 22nd of March! Blimey, that’ll be a gap of five or six weeks without a Warfarin blood test!
And I was relying on talking to the nurse about my problems. It’s been so long since I got through on the phone or by email to the Doctors surgery; the 2nd- vaccination is due. I know not when – Vaccination- centres are closing due to supply problems… And I do need some anti-diahorrea medications, but I am not allowed out from lockdown until at the earliest, the 31st March… I’m all fed-up again, now!
The message came up to say the Amazon Alchohol-free-wine was one stop away! So, I took the two bags of waste, got them on the trolley, took one bag to the waste-chute, and the other down to the caretakers’ bin. Got down in the lobby and realised I’d not took the camera with me. So, back up to collect it, and down again. Cartilage Kathy and Arthur Itis both displeased with me, and hobbling was getting more difficult. The aches from Sock-Glide-Glenda didn’t help, either. I noticed the workmen had started doing some electrical wiring.
No sooner had I got into the front lobby than the Amazon driveress came it. All four bottles were in a box with cardboard dividers. That box just fitted in the waste box on top of the trolley. Hello, a bit of good luck there… it’s worrying, you know!
Up in the elevator and back to the flat, Josie came out to hand me the tray and utensils from the meal yesterday. But I was struggling to get the trolley-guide into the hallway. She asked what I was doing, and I told her. Trying to get the box of bottles out of the waste box, so I can keep them in it for when Sister Jane can get to collect them, but they were now tightly ensconced. Hehe! So she took the dividers out of the delivered box and started to tear them up! I managed to stop her – it’s great when two deaf people try to communicate, innit!
I thanked her, I think, and got the box in the hallway. I took one out for Jenny, Doris and Frank, and can put the alcoholic ones I bought last November for Jane & Pete in with them later. I nipped the wine and mixers down to Jenny’s; it was lovely to see her again after so long, from a distance, of course. I got back up to prep the meal.
I strained the leeks and put them with a can of American Chili-Con-Carne, in the saucepan. Added a little more grave seasoning, and some passata with basil, to the mix.
Then updated this blog to here and now must go check on the fodder. Ah, already, so I added some potatoes, stirred it and got the crock-pot washed. Very late for me now, poor old sausage. Hahaha! A Taste-Rating of 7.5/10 given.
I hoped to watch ‘Tales of the unexpected’ for an hour, and I was awake when it started. But only managed a minute or two, and Sweet Morpheus took me into a sleep that lasted for about a good five-hours, of guilty nightmares, and I woke with a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne!
00:05hrs: I semi-woke up, returning to mock-life, and amidst all the confusion milling about in my brain, I found so many things to fret over, worry about, and ignore; for a few pointless, unfathomable, befuddling, minutes. Slowly I worked out what day it was and became aware of the warm wet sensation from within the PP’s. I hoped it was PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble) or CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) instead of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. (Which it was! Phew!)
I tackled the Herculean quotidian job of hauling my overly-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety-recliner, and rose to catch my balance. (There wasn’t a lot of equilibrium available, but I managed, with a high degree of effort, to achieve this).
I took the missed evening medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS was down a smidge at 149, DIA at 72, and the PULSE at 88bpm. Which overall, it was a better set of figures this morning.
The made in Hong Kong, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer temperature reading is well in the danger area red, at 37.9°c – which Mr Google told me was 100.22°f. High, but not critical. Phew!
The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived via the innards, and off I trotted, well, limped, to the wet-room. For the first time in a while, Cartilage Cathy was giving me some aggravation, stingingly so, which did not help my balance at all. In fact, when I plumped down hastily on the raised WC seat, I caught and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again!
However, the expected runny, watery evacuation didn’t happen. Instead, it seemed that Constipation Konrad was in charge over Trotsky Terence, this time, very fuliginous, to go from one extreme to another like this. The crossword puzzle was utilised as I sat there, knowing things were brewing ready to escape, yet spent a good five-minutes puzzling before the action started. Not that I solved any clues at all.Tsk!
Far less messy, but more effort needed to encourage the motion along. No bleeding from the rear end! Easier to clean things up. Although the refilling of the water tank and several flushes were needed.
Then after washing the affected areas, the dodgy bit had to be done! Stopping the fungal lesion bleeding. Nover an easy job, but with not having to use it for so long, the Dakacort cortisone cream application proved more messy and painful this time. Not 100% successful either. But, pain-wise, Cathy Cartilage’s knee was a lot worse to medicate. If I don’t rub in the gel enough, the pain relief is not up to the job. So, I had no choice other than to keep applying it and massaging the knee with a degree of pressure that didn’t go down well with Cathy at all! I’ll take an extra Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications, maybe some Paracetamol as well. Walking and keeping my balance is not easy when this happens, but I mustn’t moan. Plenty of folks a lot worse off than I am.
I got the computer going and concentrated on updating the Tuesday Diary. Cartilage Cathy was no bother as long as I was sat on the swivel chair – but when I had to get up for wee-wees or make a brew, Wow! I think this will affect my balance when I have to go out with the rubbish later.
I eventually, quite quickly actually, got the updating sorted out. Thanks mainly to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters being in a good mood with me, Yee-Ha! Most appreciated! Hope he keeps it up!
Sent off the blog. Emailed the link, went on WordPress comments, then on the WP Reader Section. Finally, I got to updating the Facebook pages.
I made a start on this page, and I had to go to the wet room for a painful wee-wee. Although, a reluctant one.