♥ 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!
INCHCOCK TODAY
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!
INCHCOCK TODAY
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:
An excellent parody song on this one. And a link to an older one, too; cleverly performed! You should like both of these, for the tune and Spunk, the pussy cat antics with a mouse!
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.
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. A stressful evacuation… no, that’s not the word. Harrowing is a better one to use. Little specs of blood in the bowl, and the NHS Urologist’s colour code card, showed that I’d gone back to a ‘Very Dehydrated’ No.6 level. Humph!
Leaving the room, I came as close as I’ve ever been to walking into the door frame as I have ever been without clouting it, as Cathy Cartilage gave way. Things seem to be getting back to normal for me, then? Hehehe! I remembered to take the A.M. medications.
I remembered to put the Kodak camera on battery on charge. I was using the old Canon charger, thanks to Amazon sending an American two-pin charger that wouldn’t work anyway. Still, it started charging without any bother.
I returned to the wet room to tend to the ablutionalistical duties. They have not gone so well in months! Brilliant! Astoundamigating! Wunderbar! Up until the getting dressed, that is!
The nasal-clearing went well. The teeth cleaning fine! And even the shaving impressed me! Only two dropsies and no, I say, NO cuts or nicks!
The showering was again a good one! A few dropsies fair enough! No bangs or dizzy’s whatsoever!
The drying off was problem-free, too! See Inchcy there? The red-faced showerer! Hehe!
Now we come to the medicationalisationing. Not perfect, nor lethal. Hehehe! Harold’s Haemorrhoids ointment applicating was a smidge painful.
And the dang Daktacorting on Little Inchies fungal lesion brought forth a few curse words, twinges and Ooh, Ah’s and Argh’s!
The last operation, getting dressed, involved:
Me ripping the new PP’s as I pulled them up! Luckily I have a decent stock in hand now.
The other balsa… no, Bambppp long socks didn’t seem as long as the first pair did yesterday?
When getting the trousers on, Cartilage Cathy wobbled me, and down I went on my knees!
Still, I got back up, bruised, but easily enough!
All in all, a fair session!
I may sell the wonderful looking photo of my legs in the Bamboo hosiery to the Tate Gallery? Hehehe!
I got on with the handwashing. The long Bamboo socks, a pair of short ones, the crap cold Amazon so called ‘Lounge pants’, and the well-made in Myanmar (Burma) are far too small and thin, grey zip-up jacket with pockets.
The door chimes rang out, and I went to investigate. There was the young engineer, who I’d arranged to come today, to fireproof the old airing cupboard.
Of course, I’d forgotten all about him coming. It’s easy to blame senility – but I will do it anyway!
He didn’t mess about, and soon he had everything out of the cupboard and on the floor in the kitchen for me to fall over.
Nice natured lad, we had a chinwag at times and a laugh.
I nipped out with the waste bags to the waste-room chute, and I disposed of them down the tube.
Made my way back to the apartment and took part in a little natter with the lad doing the work.
Oh, dearie me! Another letter informing me of the costs of living increases! The rent, Service-Charges and Support-Charges! So, what’s that in this week gone? The bank reduced my interest rates! HMG increased my personal tax rate! I’m sure there have more than these demands. Time for the claw-back for the Convid-19 costs? I’d have thought with them giving me the Asta-Zeneca poison vaccine and making me so ill, they might have gone easier on me, you know? But, no! Inchcock to the slaughter!
While stewing away and feeling sorry for myself, the young man working in the kitchen. And I realised that I’d forgot to remember to take a photo of the removal of the Porta Kabins on Chestnut Walk. So, here’s the best I could manage, the top one form last week and the bottom one this morning at approx: 10:00hrs.
Fancy that, me not remembering something, it doesn’t happen a rule. Ahem! I’m kidding, of course, when it’s news, it is the odd time that I do dredge-up some loose connection with something, and what I was going to do, or wanted to do, comes flooding back to me!
Shortly, the young worker lad had got the cupboard fireproofing work finished. He’d put a shelf up for in, bless him.
I told him to help himself from the bag of treats, thanked him, and he said he would try to call back on Friday to give me a hand getting the stuff back into the cupboard. Especially as he had put a shelf in there for me to use, bless his cotton socks. Most appreciated. Of he trotted, and I had a look at the kitchen to see what needed sorting out – I had no intentions of doing anything, mind. For I had no templates left to use and need to get at least three done, or I’ll get so far behind, doing the blog will become too much for me. I just winced when I saw the state of the place! So I got back on the computer to update this blog as far as to here, and I had to begin making some CorelDraw graphics for the templates. Getting late now, if I don’t do it, with it being midday, the weariness is about to dawn. I’ve been up for twelve hours now. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to concentrate, so I got something made up to eat.
I used the last of cooked pork, chicken tikka on sticks, garden peas and tomatoes. I lathered plenty of butter on the Sourdough bread, added the last pot pf the horrible Iceland raspberry trifle, and got down to eat it. The flavour-rating given was only 5/10, but the sourdough bread was tasty enough.
Missed most of it! Grumph!
I washed the pots and got down again, wondering if Sweet Morpheus would be kinder to me tonight? It was all tiny-nod-offs and waking repetitions. Of the two half-hour episode of Tales of the Unexpected, I might have been awake for the ten-minutes worth. Then, of course, I thought this is it, sleep commeth now… Did it Thunderbogworthy!
Well, yes, it did in a way, but in spells of a few minutes, then I’d wake up, simmer and stew a while, drop of again for a few minutes… Not very good at all!
In the end, I gave up about 23:40hrs, got up for a wee-wee, and then started doing some much-needed graphics.
01:05hrs: As I stirred, and recognised the need to visit the Porcelain Throne with some haste, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked of with one of her more virulent attacks. Thus getting my generously-sized over-stomached torso from the second-hand, c1968, recliner without injury, was no easy task. However, I did adopt a Smug-Mode on getting up and catching my balance, then made for the wet room. After knocking the bottle of spring water off of the ottoman.
It was an even messier session this morning. But at least it felt like Trotsky Terence might be losing his totalitarian grip on the innards. I say this because there were no immediate escapages as I sat down, things took a while to progress, gurglingly building up, or down, to the rear escape hatch. I even had a go at the crossword puzzles! And, (Smug-Mode-Engaged), I got the last two clues on one of the puzzles! I think I’ll upgrade that to Smug-Mode-Grade-Two-level! However, the evacuated product was super-gluey and gooey!
Cleaning myself and the pottery, and refilling several times of the water tank to free things up, took a ridiculous amount of time!
I had a wash-up, and I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, in the slightly larger China mug that Jenny had donated to me. At long last, a mug of tea actually began to taste like it used to before the first suicidal-seeking, ill-making, side-effect-ridden, AstraZeneca vaccine was given me, nine-days ago! Finally! It was a nice, different feeling!
I ventured out into the balcony, sillily not being aware of how cold it was out there, I opened one window to take an ahead shot of the view. Then the end window to get a photograph to the left-hand side of Sherwood. Brrr!
I got the Health Checks tackled. Starting with the made in Hong Kong, reliable contactless thermometer. Which proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f. The temperature has not been this low since last Thursday. 👍
The SYS was up a couple of points, but it’s been a lot worse. And the PULSE was down to 87 from 94, so all in all, taking everything into account, overall, the Health Check’s results were doing betterer today! All part of the Inchcock feeling betterer mode, methinks.
I put some fresh potatoes left-over, into the crock-pot, and added an Oxo Vegetable seasoning cube, and got it on a low setting, so there would be no chance (He says!) of any overspilling and making another mess for me to clean-up. Then, I got the computer on to start the updating of yesterdays blog.
Apart from SSS, the other ailments were not too bad this morning. And, I was getting my taste-buds to work again! Not to mention having had no bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion for days now! I think a trace of contentment, even satisfaction was creeping into my life! A strange, unaccustomed, experience for me! Will I be able to cope with it, without losing my grip? I’d got the new thermal woolly hat on to keep warm! The toothache was bad at all! Life seems so unnatural, anomalous, frighteningly different today? Could this be a belated AstraZeneca vaccine effect? Most likely it’s joy at ridding myself of them?
The dang World-Wide-Hum was getting louder again. And Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me a little… with the odd bit of back-up and support from Anne Gyna… but these things are normal, and help me cope with any good luck or health that might possibly wangle their way into my life.
– Ah, this is more like my fortunes; The Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media just went down again! Thank you, Mike Fries. But you could and have done much better, as you have in the past – this outage only lasted a couple of minutes, and came back online of its own accord. I hope you are not poorly?
I pressed on and got the Monday blog all finished, and sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and read and replied to some email comments.
Made a brew of Glengettie Gold. Had a horrendously leaky wee-wee, and washed then cleaned and sanitised the grey bucket. Visited the WP Reader Section, some great posts on there today. Then went on Facebooking catch-up.
Next, I visited the AstraZeneca site.
Astra Zeneca Vaccine: Possible side effects:
I made the effects I’d had in red!
Like all medicines, this vaccine can cause side effects, although not everybody gets them. In clinical studies with the vaccine, most side effects were mild to moderate in nature and resolved within a few days with some still present a week after vaccination.
If side effects such as pain and/or fever are troublesome, medicines containing paracetamol can be taken. Side effects that occurred during clinical trials with COVID-19 Vaccine AstraZeneca were as follows:
Very Common (may affect more than 5 in 10 people): Tenderness, pain, warmth, itching, bruising where the injection is given generally feeling unwell feeling tired (fatigue) chills or feeling feverish headache feeling sick (nausea) joint pain or muscle ache
Common (may affect up to 2 in 10 people): swelling, redness or a lump at the injection site fever being sick (vomiting) diarrhoea flu-like symptoms, such as high temperature, sore throat, runny nose, cough and chills
Uncommon (may affect up to 1 in 100 people): feeling dizzy decreased appetite abdominal pain enlarged lymph nodes (Don’t what this is?) excessive sweating, itchy skin or rash.
I still fear what the second booster vaccine will bring for me!
Time to get the ablutions tackled, just in case the Iceland order arrives early! It has been known, you know. It was last October if I remember correctly.
As usual, I got side-tracked and ended up sorting the handwashing out first. Then, off to the wet-room.
I noticed some blotches as I was taking off the wristwear.
Teeth-cleaning was a little more painful this morning, the cracked molars are beginning to disintegrate now. Four dropsies.
The nasal clearing went well, no dropsies. But the highlight was the shaving session, Oh, Yes! Not a single cut or nick! Only, three dropsies! The stand-up wash had a few more dropsies, mind, but otherwise went smoothly! Smug-Mode-Grade-2-readopted!
Dressed and freshened up, I returned to the computer. While I was in the wet room an email from Iceland had arrived, regarding Changes to my Order!
Does this list on the right, make full sense to you? Or is it me, getting confused?
The intercom rang out, and I admitted the Iceland delivery gentleman. Same man as called last week, a decent sort of chap. As I went to open the door, there were three letters delivered. I don’t like getting letters, especially official-looking ones like these were! I’ll have decker at them later.
The young man placed the bags in the doorway for me. Including the box of Surf with tropical lily and ylang-ylang, 130 wash size. I think I made a blunder in ordering this size. Hehehe!
I moved the delivery into the kitchen and made a start in storing the stuff away. As you can see, I got rather a lot of stuff today.
I’d half-expected Iceland to be out of the Milk Roll bread, so I’d ordered some wholemeal cobs and bread thins as well. A packet of boil-in-the-bag kipper with butter, that I plan to make this evenings meal of. Some egg mayonnaise, miniature pork & pickle pies, stocked up with the OXO seasonings, beef and vegetable. A bag of Wilkinson’s twin razors, that I hope will not be as lethal as the Bic brand ones were. Some cheapo trifles. Frozen Strawberry & Vanilla cones, and /sour ice-lollies as a further treat! Two cans of Batchelor’s potatoes. Iceland chilli-chicken fillets, chicken with stuffing slices. Lemon whirls, washing-up liquid and two bottles of white bleach. Some cans as treats. Two bottles of spring water, and some cheapo kitchen rolls.
By gum, I live well!
But getting room made in the freezer was as hard as ever, but I got them all in. Squashed a few cones doing it mind, Hehe!
Then, getting everything in the fridge was tackled. Not an easy job, so many dropsies and damaged good in the process.
I seem to have a lot of butter in stock. I’d also ordered some ‘I can’t believe its not butter?’ Obviously for a specific reason, but I’m blown if I can remember why! Tsk!
I may have to eat the kippers later on though; because a lot of the cooked meats have short ‘Use-By-Dates’ on them.
After I shut the door, the fridge started making rather-loud running noises?
I got the household items stored away… under the sink is looking cramped for space as well now.
And the Porcelain Throne is getting less visible too, surrounded by multiple various types of cleaning products. Ah, well!
I’ll not starve! I might eat too much, on the other hand. Haha!
All put away, I set about investigating the three letters! It seems I will be paying more tax after 5th April? Claw back-time after Covid?
The bank – We are reducing the interest rate on your savings account! Claw back-time after Covid? Not that this bothers at all, I’ve only got, as you can see, just over £1 in the account! La,la,la, la, la, la!
The final letter was from the Haemostasis DVT Thrombosis Service Anticoagulation, Warfarin Clinic.
A load of waffle really. Saying how they are doing their best, and giving numbers to ring if we need help.
Ah, well! I’ll check on the potatoes progress. All ready for serving up. But the early weariness arrived at the same time, a shame that!
I served my nosh up, on Josie’s p[late and tray. Pork misshapes, tomatoes, red onions, crispy bacon, egg mayonnaise, and the last of the small potatoes, which were the highlight of the plate. Flavour-Rating: 705/10!
I went into a vagueness-mode when I got settled to eat this nosh. I remembered the two, half-hour Tales of the unexpected were coming on channel 11 on the TV. I even stayed awake long enough to catch the start of the first episode.
After waking up half-an-hour later as the second one was showing, the need for the Porcelain Throne prevented my viewing it. Tsk! Off to the wet room, I trudged…
Crackling-Crackers! Did I crack the shoulder on the wet room door on the way in… Yes! It hurt a smidge. Hehe! The evacuation was far less messy, but the brown and red colouring was the same. I think the Diarrhoea capsules might be winning the battle at last. I’ll see how it goes in the morning, before taking another one yet.
Back to the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, just in time to miss the Tales of the unexpected episode altogether. Gragnangles!
Yet again sleep was slow in arriving, the constant waking-ups didn’t help.
00:45hrs: Woke requiring a wee-wee. Which has been something of a rarity this week. So, I delayed not and hauled my overly-stomached torso from the warmth and discomfort of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and hobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).
What a struggle that was! A weak, trickling affair that caught me out with both PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble). A check on the NHS Urologist chart proved that the wee was in the number 6 status! Very Dehydrated? I thought I’d been keeping up with the spring-water guzzling too? I’d better make sure today that I take a lot of it in.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie to get me started drinking. Made a decent looking mugful and added the milk… but the milk had curdled a smidge. That was the Sainsbury’s Jersey full cream one too! Hey, ho! I opened a bottle of Cravendale full-milk and made another brew. I took the missed evening medications. Tsk!
As I was stirring it up well, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Oh, dearie me! All the signs were that it was going be another Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation. And it was, but with a difference!
I hastened to the wet room and settled quickly on the seat (Not wanting the embarrassment like yesterday of any early escapages). To my astonishment, there was no movement at all; well, the gurgling was there in the innards. I got the crossword book out and began to use it… but only for a few seconds. The action started, as anticipated; it was a victory again for Trotsky Terence. Stinky-phoo, mostly liquids followed by a generous dollop of the gooey, sticky mass of faecal matter. I’ve never had such a chaotic, squishy evacuation as this one was!
Thank heavens I’d got the fresh TP rolls out ready after the nearly as onerous evacuation yesterday. Cleaning up took me a least ten-minutes, if not more. Then, the problem of getting the product to go away! I lost count of the times I had to refill the water tank. And I destroyed the wooden stick with so much prodding and poking of the congealed mass to encourage its eventual removal from the bowl! I felt exhausted after I’d finished!
I decided to take the morning medications with another Acute Diahorrea Relief Capsule. I hope this one might work.
The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed to work the first time again. But it did show that the SYS had tumbled from yesterdays high of 180 down to 149. The DIA was 80. and the PULSE a little high as 94bpm.
The made in Hong Kong Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave me a surprise. The body temperature had shot back up again? 37.5°c – 99.5°f, a bit over the top that was? Of course, I can’t get to talk to the Doctor about these readings, neither on the email or landline phone!
Lots of ambers and reds on the Excel record sheet now!
As I was starting the Sunday’s updating (I hate Sunday’s 👎), it dawned on me that I could hear the World Wide Hum! I could listen to the noise from above of the motor running? Jenny can hear that down on the 9th floor as well.
I got the updating finished and posted the diary to WordPress. Emailed the link. Pinterested a snap or two, then I went on Facebook catching-up. After which, I read and replied to some comments on WP. Next, I visited the WordPress Reader section.
Getting tired now. I went to make a brew, and I found that the morning had turned foggy, to put it mildly. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold.
Nearly time to get the ablutions sorted out. I was getting the watch and bands off of my wrists. I noticed the Warfarin alert band had been strangulating the arm. So that was what the itching was earlier, Hahaha!
I’d wondered, like.
I foolishly opted to divert and get some handwashing done before going to the ablutionary duties. I think it safe to say I got carried away somewhat with it this morning. I started off, doing the grey that should have been brown, Indian made, thin, cold, too long flimsy lounge pants, and a made in Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket.
Got then done, wrung, rinsed and hung. The gear should be dry enough to wear by around mid-November or so. But I’d not finished yet, oh, no, when I go off on a tangential wandering, I do tend to get a smidge hypnotised with things.
Out came the mucked-up blue Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket. And to long-sleeved t-shirts to get the Inchcock handwashing treatment as well. I must admit, this operation caused me more pain then the Porcelain Throne and wee-weeing put together earlier in the now freezing day. Colin Cramps kicked off, and I just knew that shaving was going to give me more agony later on. (Unfortunately, this was so!) EQ knew!
I got in the wet room and did the de-nasalising first, which went smoothly for once. The teeth cleaning left me with a little discomfort for some reason? I used the twin-bladed Bic razors for the first time. Which, with afterthoughts, may not have been such a good idea after all.
With the feet being hidden by the socks yesterday, I was surprised at my plates’ state. Both old ulcer scars seemed to be trying to make a comeback. And the tibial and spider veins were getting more prominent for the first time in months. Mind you, they were still more artistic than the idiot Andres’s pile of bricks at the Tate gallery looked!
The showering was an easy, almost accident-free session, to start with, anyway. There were no Dizzy Dennis visits and no banging or knocking into anything either, and Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me any right leg dances! Plenty of harmless dropsies suffered throughout the shaving and showering. I think I ought to have been given a medal, or a mention in despatches, for my heroism in using the… wait for it – Sock Glide! Smug-Mode-Adopted! Especially with my putting on the new extra-long f diabetic socks for the first time! I put these on partly due to the Weather forecast on Radio Nottingham for tonight -3°c, 26.6°f. The too-small Morrisons PPs were worn as well. They are not very good protection but do keep one warm, at least. As with the long mesh bamboo hosiery. Not cheap, but just worth the investment. I also noted the signs of water retention in this photo wot I took after the session.
I’m afraid I flaked-out after that. There was no sleep, just a horrible awakeness and frustration at not nodding off, despite the weariness I felt.
The door chimes rang, Josie was returning the things from her Sunday lunch. She liked the cheesy potatoes.
I settled again and just sort of hovered between wakefulness and sleep-mode – not actually attaining any nod offs, though. Eventually, hunger arrived, and I got a nosh prepared. A disappointing result, the peas and leeks were okay, mind. Taste-Rating: 2½/10!
The day-dreamings went on and on, but would sleep arrived? No! Sweet Morpheus denied me even a little shut-eye. After a horrible night, sort of dreaming but being awake, the need for the Porcelain Throne needs, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) stirred me into action. Of a sort!
01:40hrs: I stirred into imitation life, realised that I was not coughing or bringing up anywhere near so much phlegm. And it felt good, indeed, at last, the symptoms from the lethal to me Convid-19 AstraZeneca vaccine was weakening, after a full week! I spent a few moments fearing the second one coming up…
The innards bubbled, I adopted the Porcelain Throne – Defcon Two-Mode. And I fumbled my way out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, caught my balance of sorts and hastened to the wet room.
No sooner was I seated, and with Trotsky Terence in complete control, the vagariously doloriferous evacuation began. The discomfort and pain were soon over, but it was an Oh, so messy affair! The regular black and dark red mini-torpedoes funked like never before! 50% liquid! Bits of blood could be seen as I rose to assess the results of the dump.
The entire toilet roll plus was needed to clear things at the rear end! Gallons of water was used from the sink to remove the gooey pipework, funking, multi-coloured evacuated product! Many flushes later, things seemed to have been cleared.
The reliable, made in Hong Kong, the contactless thermometer showed a lower reading this morning, of 37.0°c-98.6°f. But this was still a smidge high, methinks?
The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed on the first two tries to come up with a reading.
On the third attempt, it worked, but the SYS was high at 180, DIA at 75, and the PULSE was 89bpm.
I updated the Excel file with the new figures.
Then took the missed evening medications and making up the moring one to leave in view so that I didn’t forget that one later, as well. Humph!
I made a start on updating the Saturday Diary. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and PP, Peripheral Pete, were giving me their ackamarackus tricks, which slowed me down with my progress.
As I was going to make a brew of Glengettie, the rumbling innards kicked-off again – which worked out well as it happens. I was only feet away from the wet room door at the time and was soon in and sat on the raised plastic seat…
Oh, dearie me! This session was worse than the first one and more Accifauxpa-ridden, too!
The content was just the same style, but there seemed a lot more of it!
Not so much blood escaped.
I had to restock with toilet rolls and kitchen towels. Ultra-messy, and so much of it, gooey, gelatinous, gunky and semi-liquid at the same time!
Foul-smelling, evil-mephitic and noxious!
The clearing of the evacuated product took far longer this time. Several refillings of the tank, and many flushes, eventually did the trick!
Then, when I thought everything had been cleaned and freshened, I spotted a clump that had, I assumed, ejected itself as I position myself on the seat.
Embarrassment, shame, disgust and the futility of my hopes all lingered for a moment or two, teasing, humiliating me. I got things cleaned up.
Then I returned to the kitchen.
I took this photographicalisation through the kitchen window, it didn’t come out well, did it? Humph!
I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a couple of yesterday’s pictures, then went on Facebook catch-up.
I made another brew. Then read and replied to some comments. Had a read of the Health Unlocked Peripheral Neuropathy site letters. And made a start on this post.
Well, time to get the ablutions sorted out, then. Off to the wet room, I trotted.
Well, just look at those legs, will you? Spider and iliac veins hardly noticeable! Clopidogrel almost gone! And the weals, lumps, myasthenia gravis, with no signs of any Idiopathic Polyneuropathy. Admittedly the socks cover the ankle ulcer, but it was very faint.
I wonder if the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying a picture of my amazingly improving legs and knees? My pins photo would cost a lot less to the idiots who run the Tate Gallery, and if I may say so, are more artistic than Mr Andre’s ‘Pile of Bricks!’
Arthur Payne, Gallery Assistant, quoted in the Evening Standard, n.f.d. 1976: “These bricks have really brought the public in. They can’t make head or tail of them. Nothing has attracted as much attention as they have!”
Inchcock response: “It’s a shame something that is nothing to do with art should be bought by the desperate for fame, fools at the Tate Gallery!”
Of course, it doesn’t bother me! Oh, no!
Ablutions all done, I set to getting the walker-guide box filled with waste-bags and got them ready to rake to the waste chute.
I found another letter had arrived.
Worryingly it was from British Gas, an assured sign of price rises or confusing changes of tariffs! Sure enough, on opening the lying, two-faced, cheating, conning, unreliable, ignorant, mercantile, profit-seeking, undependable, unpredictable, untrustworthy, capricious, expensive, over-charging, anti-customer orientated, costly, compassionless, and pachydermatous British Gas envelope; I found an increase in payments! But it didn’t bother me!
I spat a little, cursed, sent a death wish through the ether, to Centrica boss-man, (who own British Gas,) Ian Conn, and the four bosses who raked in £2m bonuses as the customers were hit; with price-hikes! But it didn’t bother me! The profit-oriented gits are not going to get to me! Although, if I hear of any of them being cast-down and snuffing it excruciatingly painfully from Covid-19, it may cheer me up a little and bring a warm smile to my face.
I got out and into the lift lobby, with the rather well-filled box of waste-bags on the Trolley-guide and down to the tiny rubbish-chute at the far end.
I got in alright and even put the bags into the chute without any knocks or injuries down the tube. Getting back out was not so easily managed. There is not enough room to turn the walker-Guide around in the waste-room, so a spot of reversing is needed. I caught the trousers in the wheels coming out. Later I found a tear in the cloth and a spec of bleeding. It made me think of British Gas! I felt sick!
Out along the lift lobby in the opposite direction. The only art-deco end wall, I’ve not seen this on any other floor, seemed more attractive to me again. (Especially so with the bile being encouraged by British Gas!) I wonder if any other floors have this art-deco paint job on their wall?
I got back to the apartment, and I set about getting Josie’s nosh cooked and prepped. I was extra careful in the presentation of the extra cheesy, buttered and sea salted potatoes. They tasted good when I tried some; I hope Josie enjoys them. The strain-free tuna, mini-tomatoes, Surami sticks, roast onions, and today for a change, fresh garden peas and leeks added. A disc of the cheese she likes was left unopen, in case she fancied it later on. A can of Sainsbury’s Rum and coke added. I delivered it just before midday. I could her Josie talking to her sister on the phone as I rang the bells. Handed her the tray and explained about the peas and leeks and new drink. Again she asked why I buy the drink when I don’t drink it; also, I told her, ‘So you can drink it!’ today. She can’t understand it.
I washed the cooking utensils from her meal making, and I had a look to see if I could get in a slot with Iceland. I got one alright for next Tuesday. I hope they have the bread available this week.
I made just one more graphic on CorelDraw and made up my meal of the day. Potatoes with the rest of the garden peas and leeks, a few crispy onions, tomatoes and some horrible tasting cooked turkey pieces. But I did eat it all. The early weariness dawned.
I got the pots washed again and became rather insipid, and the tiredness came on rather quickly for some reason. I think I put the TV on and turned it off after a few minutes to search for Sweet Morpheus. But sadly, success was denied to me!
It was many hours before I nodded off. Yet I felt so weary and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t already snoring away? I do remember the door chimes going – that would have been Josie returning the food tray, I assume. But I just could not get up. The gal knows that if I am in, the door is never locked; she can open the door and place the tray and cutlery though the door. But the poor thing has a memory about as good as mine is, Hahaha!
Frustration was growing the longer I went without nodding off. It was as if something was determined that I would not get to sleep?
I lay there, started to plan the World Economic recovery from Covid, worked out that aliens would be seen openly next August 28th, and realised I had not had a wee for many, many hours.
Finally, I must have nodded-off, cause I woke up, in need of a wee-wee…
02:15hrs: I woke after another long but bad nights kip, coughing, shivering and sneezing again. (For clarity, please add frustrated, fed-up and feeling relatively weak all round!)As I was freeing my scarily over-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, the Porcelain Throne’s first summoning arrived. Off I hastened to the wet room, for the most God-awful, repugnant, obnoxious evacuation it was!
Trotsky Terence was in full charge! Not a lot came, but it was sticky, gooey, smelly and messy in the extreme! Repugnant! Repeated flushes were needed, nearly a full roll of TP used. So much precious time lost cleaning things up, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids needed treatment afterwards.
I returned and turned on the computer… this is the screen message that I got up! Which panicked me! My heart sank, misery lingered, depression dawned, and I was near to tears! The brain rattled aimlessly. Fear grabbed a hold on me, along with sadness!
All I could do was to turn off and start again. I had no idea what the message meant. Which I did! Thankfully, the computer started properly this time. Phew! Does anyone know what the problem was, please?
I got the Health Checks done. The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, had a lower SYS at 149, DIA 76, and PULSE of 87bpm.
My Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, read at a lower than yesterday; 36.8°c – 98.2°f. Which seemed okay to me.
I took the morning medications. And had to return to the Porcelain Throne again! For a session that was almost an exact repeat of the first visit, sticky, gooey, smelly and messy in the extreme! Also, it took ages to clean and medicate afterwards.
I thought it might help if I could manage a mug of Glengettie Gold. So I made one and returned to computing. Got the Wednesday blog updated and posted off to WordPress.
Emailed the link, during which I got the hot and cold shivers again, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept dying off, causing me more lost time and frustrations. I went on Facebooking catch-up, which Nicodemus ensured was a nightmare struggle, Humph!
I visited the WordPress Reader. Then read and replied to the comments that had come in. The sneezing and coughing called on me regularly.
Oh, dearie me! Off to the Porcelain Throne again! The only difference to the earlier two visits; was the feverish shivering, hot one minute, then almost freezing. This distemperature was not a good sign! I considered taking some cough medicine and a cold capsule. But, I decided against this, with my being on so many other medications. And the effects of the crap, cruel, vicious AstroSeneca side-effects still lingering from last Saturday. Although slowly getting more manageable. The fever is worrying, though. The Throne evacuation was of the same model as the two earlier and took an awful lot of cleaning up again. I’m fed-up with this!
I was shivering and shaking a fair bit now. I tried to take some shots of the dehumidifier and thermostat to glean some information. But the shaking meant this is the only one that was seeable, just! It told me the humidity was in the green, and the temperature was a smidge high. So why do I keep shivering? Beats me!
Huh! Sneezing and coughing again, now. Still, the chest isn’t as phlegmy as yesterday. Things are slowly improving, methinks… mind you, I still ain’t looking forward to the second crippling, AstroSeneca side-effect-ridden vaccination!
I went to get the Ablutions done; boy, did I clout my right shoulder on the wet room doorframe? Yes! I did. Argh!
But, this ablution session was the best for weeks! Oh, Yes! The nasal clearing went smoothly and effectively! No-dropsies! The teeth cleaning smoothly, only the one dropsy! The shaving had only two diddy-nicks and the same amount of dropsies! OK, this innit?
The showering had no dizzies, bangs or knocks pm the grab bars or dispenser… not one! Mind you, the dropsies counted about six. But no injuries in retrieving the dropped items!
The medicationing was fine, and just the one loss of balance getting the PP’s on. I gave my right knee fairly good clout against the floor cabinet, but I’ve had much worse. No moans from me!
I got the waste and recycling bags made up and went to get them on the box on the walker-guide trolley.
AS I spotted a letter in the box, another one followed ontop the floor, and as I was retrieving them, a leaflet came through as well. Hello, I thought I must investigate and sort these out. The first one was from the Pension Service Justin Tomlinson, ruler, advising a little increase in my pension. Nice that!
The leaflet told me of the upcoming Census.
The last one was from Nottingham City Homes Safety Officer Glen Sutton. It advised me that on Monday 1st & Tuesday 2nd March, our contractors will be removing the green portacabins from Chestnut Walk. To be able to move them, we will need to close the car park next to Woodthorpe Court to the public for a period of time each day, so they can be safely lifted and removed.
Each lift should take no longer than one hour to complete, and we will be putting barriers in place to keep everyone safe. Etc. etc. I assume these are the cabins mentioned in the advisory letter.
I took a photo of the end of Chestnut Walk at the same time. Just for Billumski, the Associate Professor of the RCMA Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio.
It looks like all the old garages twixt the trees have now been demolished at the end. Still fenced off, though. I’m not sure if new garages are going to be built later or not.
I returned from my mystery tour, used the trolley to get the rubbish bags to the waste-room. Again, all was silent on the way to the chute—no finger or knuckle trapping today. Although getting the recycling down the tube, I had to split it into another bag to get it to go down.
I returned along with the trolley on the elevator lobby with the emptied box. I have to say the Art-deco end wall does look good to me.
I made a brew and started making some graphics to use in future templates on Corel Draw. But the early weariness was dawning again. I made up the remainder of the chilli-Con-Carne from last night and merrily took photographs of it without a card in the camera, not realising at the time. Humph!
I ate it all, although it was only a small dishful.
After that, the hot and cold shivers started. I managed to stay awake until the ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ episode started… but I was in a deep sleep within minutes, disturbed only by a cough or sneeze, or cold shudder – but repeatedly.
Another lousy night’s rest. Not doing very well, am I? Tsk!
Yoruba (Nigeria, Benin, and Togo): Ọjọ Tuesday 23rd Kínní 2021
01:20hrs: After managing to get my body to move for the first time in hours (mind you, I had to, to use the Porcelain Throne), I clambered my way painfully to the Throne Room.
I was well unwell, and the symptoms of the Covid-19 vaccinations remained as strong as ever on me? The rasping cough, sneezing bouts, muddled and befuddled brain, and the evacuations were still of the mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! A little bleeding and a lot of pain involved. Am I just unlucky or what? Silly question!
As I sat there, full of despair, I recalled bits of a repeating dream I’d had. But by the time I’d got the pen and pad I keep in there, most memories had disappeared into the ether. I remember I kept going into a store that sold model railways, and things began to shrink until I could no longer see or recognise what I was looking at? The chesty coughing with accompanying sneezing started again.
I recalled the nurse yesterday advising me to send an email with the details of how I’m not coping very well with the Covid jab reactions. It all feels so long ago now, during all I’d done was sit down and mope, fall asleep, dream, wake and mope, fall asleep… Life is not good! Clarity of thought no longer exists! Oh, I did try to eat something, but it was not very successful.
I took the morning medications, and sneezing and coughing once again, I made up the email to send to the surgery. I searched Mr Google, asking what news they had of reactions to the Covid vaccine details:
A load of cobblers that. If anything that others in the flats, and what the nurse told me about her patients (Including her Mother) are have been through! Which is similar to how I am at the moment.
I made up the email and sent it off. I don’t expect a reply. I just thought the surgery might be making real details of the various side-effects?
I began to update the Monday Diary. Got it finished in an amazingly swift time, due to the brilliant Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) both behaving so well towards me! Grrreat! I posted off the Diary, emailed the link, Pinterested a photo, and went on Facebooking catch-up.
At this point, it dawned on me that I’d only been to the Throne once up to now? An improvement, that is? Fingers crossed! But let’s not get too excited, though, Inchy!
I went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I had a look at the comments. A fair few in today, my concentration had moments of clarity with them in answering. Another possible good sign that the Covid Vaccine may be relenting a smidge?
I took a chance and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.
Another plus, the tea, as with everything I eat or drink, tasted all wrong to its characteristic flavour. But it was a little less acidy this time!
Then did the first (pre-dump) one of the Health Checks. The reliable old Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, shown another decent set of results. SYS at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse at 84bpm. Good enough for me!
The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer showed a healthy-looking in the green, 36.4°c-97.5°f.
Ah, back to the Porcelain Throne! A copy cat evacuation as the last one. Mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! But, no bleeding this time! I got washed and cleaned up; it needed a few flushes to clear things away.
I walked into the door frame, leaving the wet room, again banging where the vaccine had gone into the arm, and for the second time, there was very little pain? Peculiar, to say the least?
I got the kettle on to refresh the mug of Glengettie that had gone a little chilly and decided out of the blue to venture out into the balcony, determined to try and get a couple of decent photographs taken in the early morning dimness.
To say I was using the Canon, I was pretty pleased with them for once. This Canon does not do darkness very well at all usually. I had a lot of failures before I managed to get these two. Refreshed the mug and did another Post-Dump Health Checks.
The Sphygmomanometer gave another set of decent figures. SYS 151, DIA 69 and PULSE at only 79bpm! The Chinese made contactless thermometer, proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f, a little higher than an hour ago?
I made up two templates. Sorted them, in order with the others, and got the ablutions done. No doubt I’m beginning to feel in better shape this morning, now.
I enjoyed the ablutionalisationing today. The brain seemed to be working a little better as well. The teeth cleaning and nasal blow-out went well, only two dropsies!
The batteries died in the dab radio. I wasn’t surprised; the six AA batteries never last longer than 3 hours in total. The biggest con! I left it turned off.
The shaving, well, I must have looked a little battered and bloodied afterwards, but the three nicks were only superficial ones. Four dropsies. I meant to get a photo of the chin; it looked impressive, but I was keen to get under the shower and freshen up using the lemon shower gel, and plenty of it was used! One clout against the grab rail when I dropped the gel and bent down to retrieve it. Total dropsies in the shower, just two!
As I dried off, I saw how the legs were almost perfect! I can’t understand why this improvement in their conditions has occurred. The old ulcer wound still lingers and occasionally itches. It seems the Clopidogrel arks and lumps that they told me would be with me forever have all cleared up? The biggest surprise is the Thrombophlebitis DVT are also absent?
Harold’s Haemorrhoids needed some tender treatment. I had no doubt cheered myself up somehow. I got the medications done and got dressed.
Then I got a few waste bags collated, and into the trolley box, and off to the waste chute and down the tube with them. I had just one box of recyclables and took that down in the lift to the green bin outside.
I had my first human contact for many days, other than medical personnel, and had a natter with Robert, the caretaker. I decided to have a hobble up Chestnut Walk to Winwood Court and call in see how the ILC’s were doing. I needed a bit of exercise.
I met with Penny, who was going to the bus stop en route. We had a laugh together. The Wardens were busy, said hello and wandered back to the flats. I was so annoyed with myself for forgetting to take the camera with me, Grrr!
I missed taking a shot of a murder of crows! I got back in the apartment and decided to take a couple of photos from the balcony in the daylight.
As bright as the sky was, the ground looked in shadows?
Then, made some spring water bottles up and added a splash of orange cordial and Jif lemon to them for drinking later on. I still think it’s a good idea to drink more yet.
I went on Amazon to see if I could get a Morrison order in. Bit of luck there, I got one in for today (11:20hrs) twixt 2:00 PM > 4:00PM.
Nice!
Unfortunately, I also got an email from the Email. About the failure to deliver the message I’d sent to the Doctors surgery about the Covid Vaccination problems! Humph! I’m all confused again!
How disappointing.
So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.
So, there is no way to talk to the Doctor and or inform her of the AstraZeneca side effects suffered, as the Nurse recommended me to. Just my luck to get the vaccine that is the worst one, the cheapest, and the one with the most side-effects! Remember folks, if you can, try to avoid this wicked, sick-making, Astra-Seneca crap, please do!
I searched the Government sight for assistance and found this significant bit of advice!
Hahahaha! Ask your doctor for advice? Great balls of uselessness! Not a cat in hells chance! I’ve been trying all day… Get in touch with your doctor? I’ve more chance of solving the World-Wide Hum while I’m on the Porcelain Throne there, thanks to the Astra-Seneca vaccine for the fifth time today!
So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.
But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India.
Then I got a letter from the Government: Extending my lockdown to the 31st of March 2021. Oh, lucky me!
The New York Times said: After Admitting Mistakes, AstraZeneca Faces Difficult Questions About Its Vaccine. Some trial participants only got a partial dose of AstraZeneca’s vaccine. Experts said the company’s spotty disclosures have eroded confidence.
The announcement weeks ago that a cheap, easy-to-make coronavirus vaccine appeared to be up to 90% effective was greeted with jubilation. “Get yourself a Vaccarino,” a British tabloid celebrated, noting that the vaccine, developed by AstraZeneca and the University of Oxford, costs less than a cup of coffee.
But since unveiling the preliminary results, AstraZeneca has acknowledged a critical mistake in the vaccine dosage received by some study participants, adding questions about whether the vaccine’s apparently spectacular efficacy will hold up under additional testing.
The UK is believed to have spent between £24 and £28 per dose on the Moderna jab, the Daily Mail reports. According to the BBC, while the Pfizer/BioNTech jab has a price tag of around £15, Oxford/AstraZeneca vaccine cost the government around £3 per thrust. So, I’ve also been vaccinated by the cheapest one available? It’s marvellous being so cared-about, innit?
But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India. I couldn’t give a fig now. Why bother?
I can’t get in touch with my doctor by email or phone. Professionals are telling me I must report the side effects to my Doctor… Glogknobbles! Mission Impossible! I’m fed-up!
I had a look to see if any comments had come in. Nope, not a one! Tsk!
The Morrison delivery tracker came available, and the shopper had one delivery; the next was mine. The chap arrived, but what he was saying on the intercom was impossible for me to understand. I opened the door, but he would not come in? I had to go down to meet him. That didn’t do me much good. Back up in the lift with him, reluctantly, he wanted to leave the bags in the elevator, and he took my age etc., in the cage.
At last, he recognised I was struggling and brought them to the door for me, and off he trotted. Which was nice of the lad.
I was ell weary now. But, I was determined to get a meal of some sort.
I opted for Barbeque flavoured mackerel, surimi sticks, tomatoes, garden peas, wholemeal bread thins, and some misshaped cream eclairs for afters. The after-effects from the AstraZeneca vaccine meant things didn’t taste as normal by a long way yet, but a 6.5/10 for taste was given.
It went down alright; the sauce was a little hot, but that was okay, it helped to get some flavour through to the taste buds.
My hatred for being given this AstraZeneca vaccine, and the thought of having the second needle-full, depresses and scares me. As does my inability to report the effects to the Doctor.
Forever waking up, at times with memories of a dream or nightmare, and repeating the process for hours and hours… it was a horrible experience. The worse bit now is I cannot recall the happenings with any clarity at all. The old standard on a boat or barge was in there somewhere, but nowt concrete memory-wise.
02:40hrs: I lay there, having woken up for the twentieth time, and the innards indicated it would be a good idea to pay the Porcelain Throne a visit. So, I did!
Gathering the equilibrium and ability to do so safely was a little harrowing. The catching of my balance didn’t work as well as usual, and I had to really take care not to go over en route to the wet room and when I opened the door…
I’d left the light on and the wall-heater on full blast! I turned it off and continued getting my rear-end down on the raised plastic seat – and only just in time, too! A puke-making aroma came with the evacuation. Again a red and black mixture of mini meatballs, seemingly linked together? Painful, stinky, and messy! One of the most unpleasant evacuations I’ve ever had. The tremendous heat in there didn’t help any.
I was muddle-headed when I came out, and entering the cold flat, made me shiver. Brrr! I got the Thermal Hat on posthaste. And did the Health Checks. Al looked fair to me.
I made a start of the updating of the Sunday blog. I pressed on and got it finished. Posted it off, emailed the link, and had a go at the WordPress Reader section. Coughing and sneezing throughout!
I went to make a brew of Glengettie, and doing this, I had a sneezing bout again. I felt a little escape from the rear-end and rushed back to the Porcelain Throne! The evacuation was almost entirely liquid, this time an olive coloured small dollop. It left me feeling weak for some reason? The feeling that I would be back shortly was with me. Humph!
I did the Post-Dump Health Checks. The coughing and sneezing are getting annoying now! Phlegm from the chest was flowing a little freer.
Made a start on this post and then went of Facebooking catch-up. Not for long… I had to rush back to the Throne again! This one was worse in one way; it was 90% water and yellow water at that. It took me ages to clean the place up after the evacuation, and I was beginning to feel a bit bilious now? I keep shivering, coughing, sneezing and nervous of puking up; this is not going to be a good day; I don’t need the EQ to tell me this. A smidge of self-pity sneaking in, here?
Back to the Facebooking. The stomach giving off little rumbles, and on tenter-hooks that I will soon be off in a hurry again to the Throne.
I am not doing too well today. I wonder what time the Warfarin vampire will come? I’d better try to get the ablutions done early, in case she does arrive at a reasonable time.
The tummy seems to be settling a bit at last. I’ll risk a cuppa and some biscuits, methinks.
I had a few involuntary Thought Storms, which did me no good at all. The shivering moments continue!
I took off the quilt I was wearing around my stomach, and I set to giving it a good washing. It took a good while, but eventually, I got it hung above the sink, smelling much fresher than it did before.
Next, I got the ablutions tackled, the body shivering while I did the teeth and shaving. The tummy beginning to rumble again!
I didn’t feel as bad as I thought I would during the ablutionalisationing.
No calls for the Throne. The legs looked in fine form, the blotches and lumps seem to have gone on holiday?
The showering was something else altogether, only three dropsies, no bangs or knocks, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit me at all! In fact, the total dropsies added up to perhaps six at most!
I got dressed, hoping I smell a bit better than I did when I woke up, and I updated this blog. Expecting the Warfarin Vampire nurse will arrive early rather than late.
I risked making another mug of Glengettie Gold! Got the kettle on and wrung out the quilt hanging, and the intercom burst forth. It was the Warfarin nurse, one of my favourites. Cuddly and pleasant.
We spoke of the reactions I was having to the Covid Vaccine.
I mentioned my sleeping for fifteen hours, and she said her mother did the same, but for twenty-four hours! Blimey!
The dizzies and stomach rumblings. Almost every one of Angel’s patients having the vaccination suffered the same.
Told her of the repeated watery Throne visits and what they were like. Angel said several of her patients had the same thing for up to four or five days! Oh, dearie me!
Said I was losing track of the days. Several of Angel’s other patients had the same thing…
In fact, she had the same reactions herself! And knew how worried I must be. Bless her!
She recommended that I do as little as possible and just rest. That sounded good advice to me!
She told me to try and eat something today, but not to force it,
if I get any reactions from the innards.
She took the blood painlessly. Helped me back into the zip-up jacket and had to go to her next patient. I convinced her to try a packet of the Lemon Wafers as a thank you.
I got back to making the tea after the angel had gone. I pondered what she told me about eating and made up a saucepan of Chillie-Con-Carni, adding some garden peas, rost paprika, Oxo, and gravy salts. Gave it a good mix-up and will leave it to marinate, stirring again now and then, to try eating further along the day.
I am feeling drained again already today. I’m going to take a rest, I think.
This was the worst period since the vaccination. All I could do for many hours was just sit there, unmoving apart from a few painful Throne trips, resulting in stomach ache each time as the terrible black stinking wet bits flowed. Many times I considered pressing the alarm button. I felt that bad. I dreamt, woke, did nothing but feel sorry for myself; I did find this photo on the camera the next day. Obviously taken from where I was lounging for so many uncomfortable, head-spinning hours in the recliner.
I was getting more and more fed-up and out of control mind-wise. I think I was blurring thoughts from the nightmares and reality, and this went on for hours.
On one of the many visits to the Throne, I recalled what the nurse said and could smell the Chilli-Con-Carni mix coming from the kitchen. I struggled with it, but I got some served up,
I was determined to eat something, as the nurse said. I slowly got through most of it, went to through the rest away, and promptly spewed-up what I’d eaten.
I think it was the last visit to the Throne, and I just settled again. Sweaty, unhealthy, depressed, and sorry for myself. The Vaccine has made me properly poorly, and many others, according to the nurse. The effects of it go on and on relentlessly. I get worse and worse, coughing and sneezing again now; the phlegm from the chest feels almost solid at times, destroying any chance of sleep every bout.
Eventually, another visit to the throne was needed. This was so terrible, the pearl-like strings of contents were bloody and black, but at least they flowed free enough this time. Sheer depression and self-loathing reigned.
As I sat there in pain and a fed-up state like never before, bits of a repeated dream, I’d been having came to mind. By the time I got to write a bit down, most thoughts had gone off to the ether. I know for sure that I was in a model train shop, and everything started to so so small I could not see or buy what I wanted? Why this, above all the other crap I’d dreamt of, some of them while awake,
I’m not sure why this should be so special, I don’t know, I just felt it was?
I dare not risk a cup of tea yet, with the innards so delicate.
I am my lowest ebb for years. The thought of the second-follow-up vaccination coming, and going through all these mind-boggling, body and mind-tormenting times again, scares me to death!
