00:15hrs: After a good solid 4 hours of heavenly bliss in the arms of Sweet Morpheus, I stirred with the need of a wee-wee, followed seconds later with an urge to utilise the Porcelain Throne.
Thus, the diurnal struggle began, to free my mastodonic, oversized, bouncing flabby-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, uncomfortable, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner. It was a good job that there was no urgency about the evacuations needed, cause it took me a while to get myself sorted out enough to actually get to the wet-room.
I got the central mass of flesh over the end of the chair, rear-end part-way over the cushion, and using the arms of the recliner as an aid, pushed my lumbering body up to get on my feet. Half-way up, and the right arm had a visit from Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failing, and the arm slipped off of the chair arm, knocked a bottle of spring water off of the ottoman, clouted the shoulder, and the body-mass clumped back onto the recliner! Argh!
Making things even more severe for Harolds Haemorrhoids, who took the brunt, as I landed, missing the precious pain-saving cushion ring, making the pain somewhat worse!
But it didn’t bother me, I’m used to such things happening, I merely smiled to myself, laughed, and… Oh, alright! I cringed, pulled faces, silently swore, and lay there (I considered crying) feeling the warm wet sensation coming from my beleaguered piles into the Protection Pants!
This caused a semi-panic mode, and I somehow or other got back up, carefully but as quickly as I dare, caught my balance, and ‘Oh, so painfully’ hobbled to the toilet. I wasn’t exactly sure what to do first, but the wee-wee won, as I sat down, I got the crossword book out. As the tinkling from the weak wee-weeing began, I had a look at the first crossword clue, that was as far as I got with it – the rear-end evacuation started and finished in about a minute!
I was flabbergasted! The DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) this morning between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was a draw. The scene afterwards, looked like could have been from the ‘Hostel’ movie!
Medicated and sanitised the low rear end, and then medicated with the Germoloid ointment. Opened another pack of too small Tena’s I got from Amazon after Sainsbury’s had substituted the wrong sized too-small PPs. That didn’t work, did it! I’m a lucky bugger!
I had a good cleaning up of the bowl and got the old bloodied PPs packed away for the contaminated box. Had a final wash and wiped the contact points, and off to get the Health Checks done. I felt like I’d been up for hours!
Started with the Boot’s sphygmomanometerisationing: The sys was up again, to 168 this time. The pulse was also higher than usual, at 93, this may have something to do with the evacuational problems I’d just suffered, I expect.
The Harpin Xian Di thermometer read as 36.3°c.
Then I got the medications taken for last night – Yes, I foolishly missed them again! Spurgledamnations! Must remember to take the morning ones later.
I got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Hours later, I’d got it finished and posted it off.
Sent the Email link off. Pinterested a couple of photographs, and launched into what turned out to be a two-hour session of Facebooking! Then went on the WordPress Reader.
Aha, time to do a search of the skies to see if I can see Venus and or the moon. Well, you can’t really see it, I didn’t, but one of them on closer examination of the picture, was there, just! Sqwiggle up close to the photo, screw your eyes up, go about three inches from the screen, and you might see it (Venus?) in the box I drew. I hope!
I made the first brew of the day around 06:30hrs, then took the morning medications, and I did some more updating.
I got the ablutions sorted out. Not a good session, but hardly worth mentioning really. (I lost the page of notes wot I wrote about this, and a day later, it’s all a blank memory-wise!) Chungleblast! However, photos found triggered the memory of the Sock-Glide Battle! I lost 3-0!
Each sock, in turn, gave me exactly the same problems. The uncut nails got trapped in the mesh of the diabetic socks, causing a few tears in the material!
Both big toes, I found out later, couldn’t see them at the time, had the nails so distorted, they bled!
I’ve got new bruises on the fingers.
Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy kicked off with the straining, pulling and pushing!
I also found out when putting on one of the new Amazon supplied PPs (Protection Pants), that this pack had considerably smaller sizes in it!
It wasn’t right. I decided to see if I could get an appointment with the Cost-a-Fortune woman who does feet one half-day a week at the Winwood Court. I’ll call in to ask Deana about it.
I got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung. Only did a woolly hat and the pair of yesterdays socks.
I decided in an instant, I would go to town today. (In the morning, I made a blog about this trip to town) chiro
As soon as the Porcelain Session was dealt with, which went tremendously well. Well, a lot of bleeding, but still. I go myself sorted-out ready, in a fashion, and set off on my escape.
Getting out of the door should have told me something, like perhaps, Stay in, this bodes not well! I gave my left for a right stinging crack on the trolley guide wheels. The toenails gave me agony!
I got down to the ground floor and through the attractive, highly decorative, homely lift lobby. Hehehe! Can’t be helped, the decorators are in.
I left through the fronts doors (which seemed a sensible option, Haha!, I am a fool!) I limped along to the recycle bin and put the jars and bottles in it. Then hirpled along to Winwood Court and spoke with Wardens Deana and Julie, asking about the Chiropodist situation. Told me to ask at the hairdressing salon. So, I did! I
I visited the Windwood Extra Care Court’s hairdressing salon. A lady came to me and asked what I was after, and I told her. I was wondering if I could get the foot-lady to cut my toenails? The lady kindly gave me a card when I said I might forget Hehe! Apparently, the Chiropodist only calls for one-afternoon a week, on a Friday. She starts at 13:00hrs. Which is understandable, because she charges too much and doesn’t get too many customers. But Covid-19 has been kind to her.
I thanked the woman, said cheerio to Deana and Julie was I passed their holding and interrogation cell and departed outside.
I took the opportunity to take some photographs of Winwood Court. First a view of Winchester Court from outside the Winwood Extra Care Court.
I then hand a limp around the back of Winchester Court, to take a photo showing part of the Woodthorpe Grange Park greenery.
It was quiet out there, apart from the blustery wind. And I had a mini-thought storm. I pondered on the first time I visited the flats, with a view to my moving in, and my first gut reactions. ‘No way, its desolate, depressing and so out of the way!’ I decided against moving. But when I heard later that there was a bus service, I revisited. Glad I did now! Funny how things change. So many things have happened since healthwise. Getting peripheral neuropathy, having the stroke, diabetes, and then Molluscum Contagiosum, and Atopic dermatitis… I’m so pleased to be here.
The upgrading that started in 2017 will shortly be finished, I hope. And the toes were not hurting so much now. This would soon change into a persistent pain syndrome, the more I walked! Ah, well, serves me right!
I turned to go back to the frontage of the complex. I knew without looking at my watch, that it wasn’t time for the bus yet, not enough tenants waiting at the bus stop.
I got to the shelter and waited, and the first bus, an L9 arrived. Thus started my trip to town and escape from the lockdown! All covered in the blog link above.
I got off of the number 40 bus that brought me home from the tiring, exhausting, Accifauxpa and embarrassment riddled little visit to the town of Nottingham. I got the three-wheeled walker guide, with the three shopping bags of stuff hanging onto it, off of the bus with no mishaps. Took this picture as I made my way to by beloved Woodthorpe Court at the end of Chestnut Walk, it seemed such a long way, so worn to was I. (Poor thing! Hahaha!)
I put the shopping away and got the much-needed nosh sorted. A feast of sorts this one, and contained, Crispy bacon, mini pork pie, ready-mase BLT sarnie, pickled cabbage and egg, beetroot, a Marmite cheese disc, and the last of the potato letters. I suppose it was I felt so drained and was feeling ravenous after the hobbling about, that I gave this an 8.5/10 for flavour! Even though I couldn’t eat it all up.
I got the pots in the bowl soaking, and was soon down in the recliner, in need of Sweet Morpheus more than usual. He obliged! ZZZ!
00:15hrs: I rose resiliently resisting Roger Reflux’s rumblings, and regained my balance, and rambled to the bucket for a wee-wee. Another weak, restricted affair.
I was in a decent frame of mind for once, and many of the ailments had not yet woken-up along with me. Roger Reflux had. (The others will catch-up soon I expect!)
Got the kettle on. Then got the Harpin Xian Di Thermometer, and took my temperature, as you do with thermometers, I’ve noticed this. The reading was a fine 36.7°c and in the green.
As I was putting down the machine after picturing it, as Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters lost touch with the brain, and I nearly dropped the thermometer. Luckily my working left hand caught the Xian Di, but I pressed against the thermometer button, and got another screen come up, telling me the temp was low, but showing green! Huh? I was a smidge puzzled, maybe I’d hit the button several times and scrolled through somehow? Beats me. Nicodemus was back behaving himself today. The SYS was a little high again, but the pulse was well down on yesterdays 99, at 77.
Off to the kitchen and got the kettle on, and made a Glengettie Gold brew this time.
Decided to get the medications taken, back in the computer room. I wasn’t too sure of the innards intentions, but some mild turbulence from the stomach meant I did not take the Docusate Sodium medicine, but I took a Dioctyl® 100mg Poo-Softener instead. I feared that the liquid might be too strong, and create an opening for Trotsky Terence to take over at the Porcelain Throne session. Did you see that? I was thinking in a semi-logical fashion then? I almost went into a Smug-Mode – Grade 3!
I took a photo of the morning view.
Then, I got on with the updating of the Monday blog. And it went so well! Many pluses noted. The ailments were all much more manageable than they usually are. Oh, Yes! Even when the workers kicked off drilling, it didn’t bother me – for I have never been less hassled by the ailments for many months. Although this was worrying in a way? I was determined to make the most of the respite, mind you, Anne Gyna was starting to kick-off, you can’t win ’em all, Hehehe! I really was in a semi-upbeat mood! I got the updating done and finished. Posted it off to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps. Went on the comments, then the WordPress reader. It was as if I was a different person! I could not resist making an ode, to display my contentment with the proceedings, and sod Anne Gyna, who was getting worse.
I then did some Facebooking, and for some reason, there were many more comments to reply to. Which I got stuck into, with particular relish. I spent hours on it, but was content and happy to do so! This really is a rare thing, me being like this, but still, I intend to make the most of it! Yee-Haa!
Messages came up from the ‘Cloud’, which baffled me a bit, I usually would have ignored them and hoped it wasn’t anything important. But not today, in my high spirits… A shame, though, cause I seem to have made a right mess of things. The MS Picture thingy keeps not working now. I’ve got everything changed to working in Inches as well. And the reader drive has stopped working altogether. Was I bothered? Nope! (Later on, it got to me, mind!)
Ah, the calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Just as the drilling and knocking from above started again. Off to the wet room, still almost unconcerned. This is concerning me a smidge! It’s unnatural for me not to be worried, frightened and or fearful!
It was another different mode of evacuation again. No question, a victory (although another painful for me, one), for Trotsky Terence over Constipation Konrad, a 2-1 win I’d say, in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) Messy in the extreme, with the added surprise, that after I started cleaning things. A second, nearly as big dollop messy followed through! By Jiminy, I was almost caught out, there! Cor-Blimey! The cleaning up took me ages, and with the extra hours spent on Facebooking, my semi-confident mood was getting less so all the time. Now, the tap-tapping, knocking and drilling was beginning to get to me!
I now had to force myself, to get some waste bags made up and put in the box on the walker-guide. Then some brekkers seemed a good idea, but I ended up with just two bags of Frazzles, three last lemon biscuits, and some nuts with a mug of Glegettie tea. But I still tried to stay chirpy, but it was harder to do so now, I’m afraid. Even if it dies altogether, it was great fun. No complaints!
I got a can of Chilli-Con-Carne and put it in the saucepan with a tin of peas, made and added some gravy, and mild chilli powder to it. I turned on the oven, warming to do the part-baked rolls later.
I washed the mug, and put some handwashing in the bowl, and it was time to get the ablutions tackled. At least I can have a full showering one this time.
Ablutionalisticalisationing Report:
I did the nasal clearing first, no problems.
The teeth cleaning was carefully done, but still, I caught the broken tooth a few times.
Shaving: Oh, dearie me! SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Shaking Shaun, both visited at the most inopportune times! Around ten dropsies, broke the best razor, three little nicks, a clouting on the head retrieving one of the dropped razors, and then I stubbed the toe against the trolley wheel picking up the dropped shaving foam as I moved it back to the shelf.
Thank heavens, the showering went a little better than the shaving did; Four dropsies, sponge, shower gel bottle x2, and the flannel.
Drying off, that went well, no dropsies or knocking owt over. Anf the stubbed toe looked much improved, despite the second stubbing. It had changed to the traditional blue colouring, I noticed, from the odd brown when it first happened yesterday, Hey-Ho!
Medicationalisationing: Naturally poor old Harold Haemorrhoid treating was painful. But, Cartilage Cathie’s patella, Arthur Itis’ knees, and the stubbed toe creamings went well. I cunningly used the picker upperer and tissues to get to do the toe (Crafty, eh!)
Freshening up: No problems! Other than The left leg, now looked like the veins were getting ready to burst forth again around the ankle. With the possibility of new papules forming on top of my foot. A funny colour too?
Getting Dressed: An absolutely horrendous battle with the bloody sock-glide! Which I lost and gave-up on, capitulated, acquiesced, gave-up, accepted defeat, surrendered! I then took over half-an-hour and a lot of pain, to get the new long diabetic socks on by hand! Argh! But I was tickled to death that I managed to get them on, all the same!
I was still in a better than average mood, though, maybe not for long. Hehe!
I went through to the kitchen and got the short bamboo socks, and a pair of jammy bottoms I left soaking, washed, all done wrung and hung.
This was when it dawned on me, I’d just washed the clean ones! And now, I only had the thins crap cotton ones left that were dry to wear tonight! Granglesbognessbuggerit!
I spend some hours on the updating of this blog, with the errors and mistakes creeping back into my work. Things were slowly returning to normal. Which was not nice, but still I appreciated the temporary period of respite, earlier in the day.
Then an even bigger cock-up! I’d burnt the chilli and peas at the bottom of the pan. Still, it might give it a little extra flavour! I wonder how many days the saucepan will need in soak afterwards?
I got the bread in the oven and set the timer. Which was of no use, because I forgot to take it with me to the computer, to finish off the but I was doing on this blog. Closed down Computer Cameron, and returned to salvage the Chilli.
The slightly overcooked bread and the burnt Chill-Con-Carne turned out to be one of the tastiest I’ve ever made! I gave this one a flavour rating of 8.5/10! The oven-baked baguette and rolls came out spot-on! The gravy added, and amount of mild chilli powder worked a treat too! At last, a successful, Chilli nosh fitting for my tastes was made! (Although trying to repeat it, will need finely-tuned burning, singing and overcooking that may be challenging to get right again. Haha!)
The pot washing took a lot of soaking, scraping and effort, but with the taste still lingering in my mouth and tastebuds being savoured, this was not a problem.
I settled, mentally worn out, in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, earlier than usual. And pondered over the mixed fortunes of the day… those I could remember.
No Thought Storms! I stayed awake for an entire episode of Law & Order (Cunningly taking the wee-wees during the commercial breaks, which the bladder permitted me to do?)
I took the belated evening medications, ensuring that I added the Dioctyl® capsule, and ignored the Docusate medicine.
I resettled in the recliner and readied myself to enjoy a Devils Kitchen episode. No, I take that back, it was a Ramsay one, Kitchen Nightmare, not that it mattered what it was called, for at the first batch of adverts, sweet Morpheous arrived, and I had peace and bliss for four solid, uninterrupted hours! Heavenly!
00:30hrs: I woke with a start again, and lay trying not to hear the ‘Hum’ outside, or to the new droning sound inside, we think is coming from the machinery on the rooftop in the plant-room. (That’s because it keeps stopping for five minutes or so, then kicks back in) A most annoying noise to wake up to today, two flaming humming-like susurrations, outside and inside at the same time! Globbleaurgh!
I bounded out of the luxury Snuggle-Up, £950, brand new, recliner, and nipped smartly to the £95 overnight-elderly-persons Marks & Spencer’s Chamber Pot, for a wee-wee…
Oh, alright, then… I struggled out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, cracked my right knee on the ottoman, felt back down in the chair and Harold’s Haemorrhoids – swore silently, gritted my teeth and got back up again. Hobbled to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), and had a wee-wee of the PSST (Persistent, Stinging, Sharp) mode.
Seeing the medications that arrived last night, I had a nosey at them.
Being in a more stable frame of mind and more awake than when they were delivered, I think what the young lady who delivered them said, she needed to collect the medications sent earlier without any seals on them. I will ring Obergruppenfurheress and catwalk model, Warden Deana later, to ask her to ring the chemist for me, so I know what to do. I can’t believe that they want the tablets that shot out all over two room back? Then again, Matron did tell me to return them to the pharmacist? I think!
Then I realised that instead of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules I’d asked for, they had delivered Docusate Sodium, in a medicine form. Excellent thinking that was from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, and my Doctor for prescribing medicine. That needs me, to pour out into short plastic three 5ml spoons of the medicine, three times a day! A shame they both forgot about my, Nicolas’s neurotransmitters dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, and Peripheral Pete’s right leg dances! This is not going to work, I’ll have more medicine on the floor, my clothes, and if the involuntary Schuplatter dancing starts while I’m trying to take the medication (six times a day) the bottle is going to get dropped and smashed for sure! I can avoid any problems for a while, cause I still have some of the capsules in the pot to use for a couple or three days – then things should get interesting? Dangerous, mind!
But credit where it is due. The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, are nothing if not consistent in their desire to kill me off, one way or another. At least their man who dispenses the prescriptions is. They delivered the things for me, so they aren’t all bad, bless em!
Fair enough, they didn’t put the seals on of the two trays… nobodies perfect. Nemo Mortaluim Omnibus Horis Sapit!
I took the medications, then got the Health checks done. I started with the blood pressure, the SYS had was not too bad a result.
The temperature was spot on!
I must remember to ring Deana and ask for assistance with the phoning, maybe after I get the ablutions all done.
The rain began to come down as the mist slowly cleared away.
As I got on the computer, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet-room, I trudged. The ailments were being kind with me up to now.
I thought I might have grown hair again on my head, it took so long to get any moment started! The crossword book was utilised. I even considered giving up and trying again later… Ah, painful, very painful, but the evacuation started… It took a few minutes of effort and a few. Oooh, argh’s, but at last, things picked up the pace! Well, it looks like an easy victory in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) for Constipation Konrad today, over Trotsky Terence. I made sure afterwards, that the Dyoctyl® poo-softener was in the afternoon tablet box ready, in fact, the session was so bad, I put two in there.
Cleaned up, and back to the computer, to make a graphic for later use, but I got diverted (I do that a lot yer knows) when I saw the email news come in, and I had a decker at it. I copied this graph of the Nottingham areas affected.
Then it was time for the Ablutioning Session to be done.
I rang Deana; first, she said she’ll be coming to see me later on, after 11:00hrs. She had a meeting to go to first. I thanked her and made a bee-line for the wet-room/
Getting ready to do the teggies, and I noticed that the growths, blotches and even the papules that were on the left arm yesterday, had all but gone now! Amazing!
The teeth cleaning had few electric-like stabs of pain, as I caught the cracked tooth that the dentist told me were nothing to worry, as she rushed me out of her surgery a couple of weeks ago. They hated me (My high EQ could tell), cause I couldn’t get up the two flights of stairs to my regular dentist to be treated, mind you, he ain’t all that keen on me, either. Tsk!) I digress again, sorry!
The shaving, especially considering that I hadn’t shaved yesterday, went blooming great. Only one little nick and three-dropsies! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
The showering had a couple of dodgy moments, but I’ve far worse, no I’m not complaining. They were, decent clout against the grab rail, and I hit the ankle ulcer area on the shower-chair leg.
The drying was had no, I say, No, knock-overs! (A smile developing!) As for the medicationalisationing, only poor Harolds Haemorrhoids ointmentating actually hurt. Although the ankle looked a bit battered? But I had given it a good knock when showering, so, fair do’s. It seemed to have changed colour, and the scratch marks too? No pain or soreness, mind you? All so confusing!
It worries me when things go well, it’s unnatural!
Back to the updating of this blog.
And both door chimes rang out. Oberstgruppenfuhreress and desk-top dancer, highly desirable Warden & ILC Deana appeared in the room.
She soon sorted things out for me. The Chemist said to hand the two trays back undamaged packs back to him on the next delivery. But of course, I’d started one, so only that can one can be returned. He’s not replied to my email anyway.
She patched up the fallen curtains for me in the main room and recommended the Apollo shop in Sherwood to get my curtains from. I need some for the kitchen and front room. I’ll give them a go.
Made my mind up, bacon and beans for my nosh. The milk roll bread with it methinks, but first, I must make up a template for tomorrow. Here I go… Hehehe!
Got the meal cooking things ready to start, and checked the leaflet from Nottingham City Homes. A little confusing.
I’ve got to phone them to book an upgrade in the kitchen and bathroom? I think.
The landline flashed, it was Hristina, the lovely vampire nurse, to tell me she will be calling on Monday twixt 8>10:00hrs, bless her cotton socks. I think they’ve made it earlier this week, with the INR level being so low?
Being so tired, I couldn’t appreciate the meal as I might have, but I still gave it a 7/10 for flavour and taste. The bacon was the Iceland brand ‘Seasonally Seasoned’ streaky bacon. It was almost paper-thin but tasty enough for once. The beans and vegetarian sausages were not bad. The Sainsburys pork & pickle pies were fine, not as tasty as the Iceland ones. The milk roll loaf bread and the lemon yoghourt were gorgeous! I dropped the things in the bowel to soak, had a weak wee-wee.
I was in the arms of sweet Morpheous within minutes of getting down in the recliner. The dreams began, I woke with a start, and well miffed, at not remembering much about the dreams, just a feeling that they were good? Clobblechops! I drifted back into the land of nod, determined to get back to whatever it was I was nocturnally enjoying previously – of course, I couldn’t and failed. I’m pretty good at failing, as well!
01:35hrs: I stirred into life after a rather unsatisfactory two-and-a-half hours sleep. And the first thing I became aware of was that the worldwide ‘Hum’ was a little quieter this morning.
The next thing gleaned was the need for a wee-wee. So the morning performance of getting my obesely, stupendously wobbly stomach burdened body, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, which went fair enough. Catching my balance was a piece of cake, too. Grabbing metal-mickey and over to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), another task that went well!
However, wee-weeing was a difficult task. After a long, long while, the flow started with the odd weakly-sprayed trickle and stayed that way until the bladder had had enough. Unbelievably, the Post Micturition Dribbling, carried on almost as long as the wee-weeing had? Ah, well, a change is as good as a rest! Well, maybe not in this case.
I now became aware of a new to me, noise! A droning hum, but not like the external one. I seemed to be coming from inside the building, close by, but above me. You can’t win here! Well, I can’t!
I went to get the medications taken. Not touching those in the not-sealed pots that I had gathered from the spraying all over the room when I opened then, as Matrom Jackie had told me not to do when she phoned me last night. I opened a pod-pack that had got the seals in place (Two trays had them, the other two had none). Bless Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, launderette, near the Lidl store.
When I did the sphygmomanometerisationing, I was certain that I’d got the wayward medications wrong! The Sys was the highest it’s ever been! A staggering 182! So, this is not good, but it’s a good job that the caring Matron Julie is coming to see me today, I’ll see what she says.
I tried to get my head around which of the medications I’d gotten wrong, easy-enough with the three same shaped and coloured one’s I take in the mornings. It’s not surprising that errors have been made, just look at the three aforementioned tablets! Plus there are still some missing from the spillage and scattering of the medications. I am not wee-weeing much today, and it’s reluctant, this indicates that maybe the Furesomide has been missed? The high blood pressure shows I may have missed a Beta blocker, (Bisoprolol)? Nope, I had to give up, it just got Conrad Confusion in a bigger mess than he was to start with!
I got the Harpin Xian Di Thermometer used. At least the temperature, was okey-dokey. The need of the Porcelain Throne arose, so off I trotted to the wet room.
Well, goods news from this session! Less painful, with minimal bleeding, and all over quickly! Not messy either! The cistern cleared everything in one flush, which considering the size of the torpedo, also amazed me! The first Smug-Mode of the day adopted!
I then took three photographs of the same area, the first one was in Auto Mode on the Nikon Coolpix B700 Bridge Camera. (A bit of bragging there, sorry, but it does sound as if I know what I’m doing. Hehehehe!
The second one down of the three was taken in the Aperture Priority setting.
The last one, I chose Night Landscape. The nearest of them to what the viewer showed, was the Auto Mode one.
No, hang on, I got that wrong, sorry, the middle one was in Night landscape mode… Oh, dear, my battle of resisting Conrad Confusion is being lost!
I got on with updating the Monday blog. With the unreadable scrawl on the notepad, through the late additions after I’d got my head-down, the photos and the attention pf Conrad Confusion, it took me far too long, but I managed to get it done without too many mistakes being made. Ahem!
I got the email link sent. Went on Facebooking catch-up. Visited the WordPress link, some great photos on there today.
Closed the computer to let it cool-off, and got the Ablutions tended to. I had to get the nearly, in case Matron Julie came early. (But she didn’t, she came very late! No point in moaning, she probably had to fit me in with the regular people she has to visit). Not that this will help in Sweet Morpheus seeking.
The stand-up ablutions went fairly well. About 15 dropsies in total. Only two shaving nicks.
A couple of knocking things of knocking-things over.
So not so bad really. The pins and plates didn’t look too bad at all. The ulcer was getting less flared, too.
Only Cartilage Cathy’s patellas looked, well, felt, worse than usual.
All done, medicated and deodorised my magnificent, manly, taut, desirable to women, masculine, body. (Alright, alright, we can all get carried away at times, yer know! Hahaha!)
I did the handwashing in the bowl. Got it done, wrung and hung, to dry, above the kitchen sink.
Carried on with updating this blog, and the time flew by, without any signs of Matron Julie arriving. MY EQ tells she is going to come late after my head-down time. I just seem to be incapable of having any luck lately. I half expect her not to come today, Oh, dear, never mind.
I got the dinner prepping done, to the accompaniment of Herberts, clunking and tap-tapping.
I put the left-over peas from yesterday, and cane of Chilli-Con-Carne in the larges saucepan. And made some gravy to go in the mix, too. Stirred it and tried a spoonful. After which, I bravely added some Chilli powder and Squid vinegar to it. Gave it another good stirring, tried a spoon of some more, it tasted okay to me.
But the gamble was in my having BBQ rice with it. I should wait until I get the Chilli mix boiling and add the rice to it then – but of course, I did all this without thinking about the nurse coming. So, I had to turn the heat off, or it will be ruined if Jackie comes too late in the day or even night. Now I was getting depressed, and I already getting tired through sleep deprivation and getting annoyed with myself. Pissed-off a bit, as well!
I had a look at the email Nottingham YourArea magazine. Amidst the knifings, burglaries, unlicensed and uninsured drivers, I found the latest Coronavirus figures chart.
On my usual, well, it used to be normal head-down time, the door chimes sounded, and Matron Julie entered the flat. A lovely feeling came over me!
She wanted to get the tablet cock-up details first, and I showed her the pill-pots and photographs I’d taken. She asked some questions, and I answered them all, in her usual professional manner. And she got on the phone to talk to the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, launderette, near the Lidl store. She moved away to talk to whoever answered the phone in private, not that I could hear her anyway.
She told me to put all the tablets retrieved from the sprinkling, on the floor in a bag, and hand them back to the chemist, who she’s asked to replace the two unsealed trays for me ♥ Kind of her.
She asked some general and ailments health questions. When she asked what my BP was and I told her that this morning it was 182/81-P76, her eyes (I couldn’t see her face due to the black mask, Hehehe!) looked at me dubiously, telling that is way too high! I showed her the photo. I retook the reading as told to, and it had gone down to 159/86-P79. Julie seemed okay with this reading.
We spoke about the problems, (I was getting a bit weary, and not everything of this chinwag sank in), and Julie departed, with my thanks.
I got the nosh rewarming, and served up. It looked good to me in the dish, and I settled to eat the meal while watching the TV. Oh, dearie me! It was horrible!
A Flavour Rating of 2/10, no, 1½/10! Eurgh! I’m never having rice with my chilli again! Spit!
A few spoonfuls after starting, I was getting up to throw away the meal. I packed it the disposal bags, but them in a carrier bag, and those into a black rubbish bag and sealed them up. So they would not cause a pong in the flats Or worse, they might have split open, effect and infect residents, and started a new Pandemic, the Woodthorpe-Court-Virus! Hehehe!
I had a bag of Frazzles (well three actually), and nibbled some nuts, turned the TV off, and lay there, waiting to be enfolded in the grasp of sweet Morpheus! Who, soon took over, drifting off into a deep but dream-filled slumber was attained! (vague memories of falling down holes in the ground?), but it was not to last for long, I sprang awake three hours later, the expergefactor, unknown! Blurblecrups!
TFZer Keith solves his accommodation problem. Hehe!
I hope the Harold Shipman-admiring apothecarist will be investigated when I snuff-it? Hehe! (Details below, dang, dang, dang… Dang!)
Sunday 6th December 2020
Dutch: Zondag 6 December 2020
01:15hrs: I stirred, shuffled, and a blasting emission from the read end that set Harolds Haemorrhoids stinging convinced me to escape out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. I caught my balance and limped to the wet room and the awaiting the Porcelain Throne.
But regrettably, things didn’t go well at all in there this morning! I was in plenty of time and seated my rhinoceros but wobbly -shaped body down, and in anticipation of a long session, like yesterday’s, I grabbed the crossword book, like yesterday. I wasn’t disappointed!
Trotsky Terence was again thrashed by Constipation Konrad in the PTDDS (Porcelain Throne Daily Domination Stakes). The pain grew worse as things kept starting and stopping mid-stream several times. When the evacuation finally and blissfully stopped, there lied a rock-solid light grey torpedo, steaming and proudly ticking-up out of the water, fin end up! Gawd, what a relief! How in hell, that monster was cleared with one flush, I’ll never know?
I washed and cleaned up, ointmentated the delicate regions, and as I was leaving, I spotted the mildew killer that I’d sprayed on the bad spots of the floor yesterday. It looked to me like by forgetting to go back and rinse it away, I may end up with the floor looking worse than if I’d not meddled with it in the first place. (My life has been a little like that, not to mention the errors, bad choices, and… I’d better stop, there are too many woebegone, voodooed, hapless, Jonah-like and ill-fated things to mention. Haha!)
I got the Health Checks done, Sys still high.
And the body temperature was once again very fair indeed!
I got the new packs of medications out of the prescription bag, putting them with the Enoxaparin and yellow-dirty bin on the fairer, and made a brew of Glengettie.
I took a moody shot of the view from the unwanted, disliked, impossible to get cleaned, kitchen windows. I tried to get the Christmas light in it, and the street lights that gave me the impression, that I’d soon see the Three-Wise-Men coming into view. Hahaha!
Unbelievable!
Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, were playing with me again. I cannot win with them! Fair enough, they were kind enough to deliver this month’s prescriptions and sent a beautiful young lady to deliver them… but they never fail to take the piss, short deliver, send the wrong amount of medications etc. but this time…
They sent to packs of pods, without any seals of them! When I opened the first one, without my realising, (they are always transparent)
The pills and capsule bounded, shot and flew out all over the place! Some ending up on the floor, I found others on the recliner, others on the floor! Two in the hallway, two in waste bin! I ended up painfully bending on my knees to gather up as many as I could, but there were and still are five absentees that escaped and hid somewhere they are not to be found!
Getting back up, I hit my shoulder on the doorframe as I pulled myself up, and now the previously today, well-tempered SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) is giving me some mild agony! Flibblegonknackles!
Glunglegnatsworth Then, I had the impossible task of sorting the tablets out to get back in the pods! I had to end up guessing which was which, and some of the escapees were never found. The photo here is one of each of the three medications, you can see how hard it is to identify them. Glunglegnatsworthy!
I ended up having to use the old pods from when I made my own up, but it wasn’t easy. I dropped a few tablets with the shaking right hand (Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters) and even more were lost, or rather couldn’t be found. So through no fault of my own, I’m going to be short of medications again! That is if I don’t kill myself first by taking the wrong medications?. Granglesknackersbuggerit!
I lost hours, thank you to, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.
I’ve no confidence in my having got any of the medication pots right. Gumph!
At long last, I get on the computer to update yesterday’s blog. A mixture of anger, hatred, frustration and fear slowed me up, oh, and Nicodemus didn’t help.
A second-summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. With a sort of panicky-dread, I got the wetroom and found that exactly (almost) the same type of evacuation was suffered, as the first one! But the whole thing was over so much quicker this time.
I was getting a smidge depressed now, I could still not believe what the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub and Lidls had done to me! Concentration and coping with SSS was getting me down.
I decided to get some belated breakfast. I pot noodle with added gravy, and the last three slices of bread thins. Nae matter, I’ve got some part-baked baguettes to use. I must get a food order done later on.
I’d try Morrisons, but am not prepared to take their substitutes, the smaller Protection Pants they subbed, could have been returned I suppose, but would the driver wait for me to try a pair on, the accept them back having opened the pack? I think not. I dare not risk getting AAA batteries in place of toothpaste again! It’ll have to be Sainsbury’s then. They are not any better substitutors, though. Instead of bread, they subbed pikelets last time! My own thoughts are winding me up now! Skullclogglebonks!
Time to get Josie’s meal cooked and served soon, I’d better get the ablutions sorted. The session went well. Too well, it was worrying, in fact. A grand total of only seven dropsies (Oh, Yes!), no, I say NO shaving cuts, no dizzies, no knocking anything over, toe-stubbing or walking into anything! Just when I was feeling down and sorry for myself (Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA), this happens, and I bounce down to depression Defcon Three! Hahaha! One thing though, as I anticipated, mt leaving the scourer on the floor overnight, has made it look worse than ever now. Tsk! Always summat int there?
I got the handwashing sone, rung and hung. Almost forgot about Josie’s nosh, guilt-mode adopted!
I pressed on keeping my eye on the clock. No much coking in this feast for the gal, fresh tomatoes, last of the pickled eggs, cooked beetroot, Mackerel in BBQ sauce, and my world-famous cheesy potatoes… well, Josie, Jane and Pete like them?
A few minutes before midday, at the time the Madam likes her Chef to deliver the Sunday meal, I arrived at Josie’s front door and rang the bells (well, I thought it was a good idea, yer, see). I handed Josie the tray of fodder, with the Rum & Coke drinky, and Limoncello dessert. We had a short natter, and I took this photographicalisation of Josie and her tray. The gal seemed happy enough with it, bless her.
I set to washing up the cooking pots and pans. During which, I knocked a measuring jug and funnel off of the draining board. I thought it rather funny, finding a missing potatoes letter from yesterdays Accifauxpas when I got down to retrieve the jug. The letter Y, why I asked myself. Hehehe!
Then, reaching down near the cooker for the funnel, I came across a diamond-hard pea! So long since I had any fresh garden peas? Giggle! Shows there is hope for maybe finding some of the missing tablets, yet?
Took the photo of the end car park at the side of the flats. Oddly, all the vehicles in view were either red or black. The Mafia, and the FBI, came to mind?
Note the new Balcony pods? Well, they are not new now, are they?
Back on the updating of this blog. Hours flashed by, as did the getting my head down, thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.
For some reason, possibly Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, I was not really hungry now. Humph! But this soon changed after Roger Reflux started working, and had rid itself of a symphony of wind. So, I got on with the Chilli Con Carne and meatball nosh.
I soon had it digested. Tasty enough too. A Flavour-Rating of 7.5/10.
Then took the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, collated, dispensed, and inspired, “Risk-Yer-Life’, ‘Take Pot-Luck’, ‘Cross Yer Fingers’, medications.
Got down to get some kip, which arrived quickly, but did not last long. I woke up at midnight, sickenly with a jolt, that put a ban and the mockers, on getting back to sleep. Humph!
02:20hrs: I stirred, dreary-eyed, and found in the folds of my tummy fat layers, a page from the notepad, and as I looked down, a pencil dropped from behind my earhole. The reading glasses were hanging on the very end of my nose and fell off to join some (I found as I began to move), biscuit crumbs as well. Nocturnal Nibbling Guilt!
The scrawl on the paper was hard to decipher. Bits I could make out were, ‘dreams put in the blog’ and ‘wee-weeing…’ But unfortunately memories of having the dreams I’d apparently had were lost into the ether. They must have been interesting, or I would not have made the regrettably unreadable comments on the pad. Shame!
I went through the routine of getting up, catching the balance easily enough this morning. Noticing that the ankle ulcer was clearing up so quickly (Not complaining). The papule underneath the left foot was still tender, even though it had grown back on the bottom of the foot.
I tended to the Health Checks first.
The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer gave a good reading of 36.7°c, a very fair, in the green range result. Then, I got the sphygmomanometerisationing machine out to use, wondering if it will take a few tries to get it to work today, and worked on the third effort: The SYS was still a little too high, but it’s been worse many a time.
As I took the medications, I thought I heard a noise coming from the hallway, I went to investigate. There was a letter on the floor at the door, but that must have been there from yesterday. No one would be posting letters at 03:25hrs of a morning, so that wasn’t the noise I heard. No signs of anything fallen was identified, so I returned, and got the medications taken.
Then I opened the letter. It was an eight paged A4 notification, from HMG (Her Majesties Government), Department of Health & Social Care. It consisted of the following: Guidance for the festive period – Shielding – Access to health & care – Important Information about Covid-19 – Access to Additional Support – Vitamin D supplements – Socialising -Care & Support – Tier 1, 2, and three rules to follow – Going to the shops and Pharmacy regulations. Whether or not I will live long enough to read and digest it all, is questionable.
But, Hatt Mancock’s… sorry, Matt Hancock’s end quote of “We will Continue To Support You in your efforts to keep yourself & others safe!” gave me a warm-glow of bile, that did.
I assume he may be talking about my not getting my prescriptions without a battle on the phone each month with the Chemist I must not visit, to get them delivered? Or being unable to get my toe-nails cut? Or the cancelled Oncologist – Cardiothoracic – Endocrinologist – Pulmonologist – Neurologist – Urologist and Audiologist cancellations?
Or maybe as is likely, he’s more working towards the next general election than actually bothered about us all. He feels a bit of creeping and ersatz care pretending now, belatedly shown will ensure the votes? Who knows? You can’t blame him! Hahaha!
I remember the then New health secretary Matt Hancock receiving £32,000 in donations from the chairman of the think tank that wanted the NHS ‘abolished’! Matt Hancock received nine donations between £2,000 and £4,000 from the man who heads the board of the free-market group, the Institute of Economic Affairs.
I also remember him, defending his spending almost £50,000 on takeaways for his staff from just one London restaurant during the peak of the Covid crisis. The Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) spent a total of £47,528 on takeaways from Bong Bong’s Manila Kanteen earlier this year, a Freedom of Information (FOI) request has revealed. Just nine orders costing £43,348 were placed at the fashionable “Filipino-inspired” eatery during April, then another £4,179-worth of orders placed in March! Just thought I’d mention it!
I got the updating of the Friday post done quickly. Sent it to WordPress. Did some Facebooking catch-up, then on the WordPress Reader section. Finally, got around to site comments.
Made the first mug of Glengettie tea of the day, and had a bag of Frazzles with it, well, no time for brekkers, I have to get on with making the templates up.
I took regular breaks over the.. wait for it… seven-hours I spent, getting the templates finished! The first being for some brekkers, of sorts. I had a pot noodle, and some nuts to nibble.
Back on the template slog.
Turned everything off computer-wise, to let it cool down, and got the ablutions done.
The ankle was looking much better now, but had still got the odd itching, with it? Feeling as if worms or maggots were underneath the skin?
The session went safely enough, dropsies of course, and just the one nick shaving.
The medicating went so easy as well!
I got the clothes all washed and sanitised afterwards and hung them on the dreaded, not used now if I can avoid it, doing so by not wearing any socks, Sock-Glide.
I must make an order for delivery soon, I’m low on disinfectants.
I got the unopened old but ere new when I bought them, trousers on. They were classed as brown, but only just. Hehe!
They fitted perfectly. Well, what I mean is; The legs were far to narrow, my ever-growing, bulging, flabby-belly made it hard work to fasten the waistband clip, the pockets were too small, the cotton thread hung from the bottom of the legs, the belt buckle supplied with the trews broke. The bum fitted a little too snuggly. Other than that, they were fine. Oh, and the back pocket had a hole in it!
I hand-washed the old black trouser, all done, done, rung and hung above the sink to drip dry.
Back to the templating. I got the computer going again, and got a message telling me that the hard drive is running low in space. I’ve no idea where the message came from, Microsoft, Google or the computer. After a few moments of frowning and fretting – the message disappeared?
I took a breather, of sorts when it started to be a grind, rather than pleasure, in doing the CorelDrawing.
I made up the small waste bags, added them to the others in the box, and got them on the three-wheeler guide, and taken off to the waste-room and down the chute. As I got into the lift lobby, I used the Cannon (It’s far easier to use when on the move, cause it fits in the pocket, which the Nikon Bridge camera will not do, too big). The first one, the view as I entered the lobby straight ahead, the none along the length of the lift lobby, and one as I turned around and snapped the three flats lobby. Mine being the solitary single one on the right. It was eerily quiet out there! With no workers, no noise from Herbert, and even the blasted ‘Hum’ seemed quieter to me?
I got the bags down, in the process gaining a pretty deep blue bruise on the knuckles as I trapped the hand as the lid shot back closed.
Back to the apartment, and took these shots of the darkening day from the gallery.
Back to the templating again. I worked through uninterrupted for a few more hours. Got the templates finally finished and began thinking of what to have for my nosh. As I nosied around to see what was available, favouring doing the meatballs and potato shapes, to help clear the freezer, then I can free Jenny’s space up and fetch the meatballs she has kindly stored in her freezer for me.
Then it hit me, the usual late weariness, lack of concentration and feeling of being oh, so tired and worn out.
I decided against doing the meatballs, in case I fell asleep with them being in the oven for much longer. I got the potato shapes out of the freezer, and dropped the damned bag, catching it before it hit the floor, but a few of the shapes fell out. I noticed as I picked them up that the letters spelt ‘Thick’. (A link there somewhere?) – Ah, clairvoyant potatoes? Hahaha!
The sky was changing as I farted-about making a right mess in preparing the cooking. Nicolas’ Neurotransmitter had been so kind all day. Still, it now was causing some dangerous situation with the oven and saucepan, like. I took a photo and another close-up of the picturesque peeping pink evening view.
Getting the pasties and potatoes out of the fridge, I caught my right arm on the oven. Puggleclumpdimwit! Ah, well!
I got the fodder l plated, and was amazed at the fact that I’d just made this meal! I was so, out-of-it, and drained? I must have engaged auto-pilot—a taste-rating of 7/10.
Too was tried to bother doing the washing up, and I required Sweet Morpheus.
But the Thought-Storms destroyed my hopes. Spurgledamnations!
00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.
The astonishing thing was the frame of mind I was in. I felt almost contented and ready for anything that came along? Naturally, this is not going to last long, but still, a great, if a rare, situation, that I will do my best to enjoy!
No calls to the Porcelain Throne or Wee-wee bucket either! I rose, caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.
I checked the hanging above the sink hand-washing and moved the jammie bottoms onto the upright clothes dryer. All this time, I was… I don’t know how to describe it, erm, like I was not me, or someone had hacked into my brain? No wee, no pooing, no mug of tea, Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy has never been kinder to me than they were this morning? Caught my balance without the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!
With a determination I’ve not possessed for months, I grabbed a bottle of spring water, and made for the computer, to upload last nights photographs, and start the updating of the Wednesday IT diary.
I’m certainly not claiming that I was efficient, or methodical in my efforts, as I began to work on CorelDraw to get the photographs resized. But my regular hesitancy, indecision and dilly-dallying were far less than they would usually be. I wish I could work-out why?
The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years!
Then I realised that the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were only rarely dying on me, and when they did, it was only for a few seconds at a time. I was baffled at this. But well happy with the situation! And pressed on as quickly as I could to take advantage!
I got the pictures done and into the WordPress gallery ready to use. Then started to update the Wednesday blog… and had to stop, damned shame this, just when I was getting something done, to go to the Porcelain Throne utilisationing.
I got to the wet room in plenty of time, not that it mattered. For Constipation Konrad repeated his Wednesday victory over Trotsky Terence, but by a bigger margin! At least 6-0! As I sat there, toying with the crossword book, and daring not try to force things along, and waiting for the innards to evacuate at their own pace – I soon realised that this was not going to happen. I don’t know why I put ‘soon’ there? It must have been a good fifteen minutes, and three new answers found for the crossword puzzle before I had no option, other than to grin and bear the pain (it was worst in weeks). And I urged the action to start. A few silent Argh! Eeks! and a couple of minutes later, the evacuation started, agonisingly slow, full pressure had to be applied on my behalf. In the midst of the protracted torture, I swore to take two of the Dioctyl® poo-softeners as soon as I could after this agonising session had finished. Which turned out was not to be, for a good few more minutes yet!
Harolds Haemorrhoids were going through hell, I could feel the blood, with it being warmer, hitting the body parts as it flowed. The torpedo even needed a final extra urging to finish the motion… at last! Well, that put the final nail in my feeling optimisticness!
I changed into a disheartened, forlorn mode. The cleaning up was not too bad, with the evacuated product being rock-hard. Even the cistern somehow managed to clear it away first flush!
But it had left me feeling so sore! I washed the rear-end and put the bloodied paper towels and sealed in the bin. The medicating of poor old Harold’s department, even using the Germoloid Ointment, was the most excruciating I’ve known for years!
I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!
But, these things happen, so I wasn’t bothered, and I took it casually in my stride. No cursing, planning getting my revenge or anything like that. Oh, no! Gesundheit!
A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too!
But, my being a well-educated, dedicated, sharp-witted, positive, capable, and ultra-determined character, I pressed on and got the updating finished, not giving a care to the ailments, back-luck or having just dropped my mobile, and it isn’t working now. Sob, Grubbleackers and Grrr! (No confidence Scenario emerging)
I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos.
A lot of the Christmas lights had been turned off for the night. I can’t blame anyone, they may encourage the attentions of burglars, distraction con-men, and local yobbery, who have been more active in Sherwood lately. I got these figures from the local Email Mag: Monthly Crime figures for little Sherwood, June 193 – July 196 – August 199 – September 211- Not good!
The knocking and banging from the workers have started off, started work early today, bless ’em. I made a start on this post…
When I opened the Notebook app to get the information stored, it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!
I got the ablutions done! Which went better than I expected. It’s all up and downs today? The usual dropsies and a few shaving nicks. The showering went as good as it has in months, no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.
I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. I’m not sure I meant to take it, or why if I did. Hehehe! But you never know, with the state of my memory and incertitude? Is that the right word? I’ll check. Yes, that’s the one.
I had to laugh when I was using the long shoe-horn to get the slippers on. Somehow or other, I’d got the horn stuck in the outer part of the faux-leather of the footwear, and it stuck there, needing extracting. But it was so funny, I got the smaller Canon camera and managed to take a shot of it with the left hand, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.
Then I moved the jammie bottoms on the fairer ti aid in drying them enough to wear. Judging by how damp they still were, I anticipate them being dried somewhere around next April. Haha!
I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.
Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.
I had a panicky moment and a kerfuffle finding the key fob to take with me so I can get back into the flats. Then, as I thought all was ready to take the trolley down to the bins, (It’s collection day today), I couldn’t find my long-distance spectacles! After a hunt around, I found them in plain view on the TV stand. The worrying thing, is how I missed them so many times in my searching?
I departed the flat, hoping to meet someone en route to the waste bins for a natter. I met a worker in the 2th-floor lift lobby, said hello, but he couldn’t understand English, So I gave him a smile, which was a bit silly-billy of me, cause I had the mask on! Hahaha!
No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.
Then hobbled to the and through the main lobby and out in the wet rain, to the bins awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.
Where I met the caretakers and got involved in the nattering session with them… well, that’s not strictly true. I did the talking, that bored them into a rolling-eyes mode within 30 seconds. I’m good at doing that, and with effort either!
I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor.
Getting out of the cage, I had my first wobbly of the day, (I’d done well up to now though!) and caught my shoulder through my weak spatial awareness, on the side of the lift. Which set of BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Humph!
Naturally, this didn’t bother me in the least. (Much!)
The worker’s equipment was in the lift lobby. I got back into the flat, and I got the kettle on, post-haste! And made a brew of glorious Glengettie.
I worked on this post for about four hours, and the back and right shoulder from hitting the lift side, was pretty bothersome, and the computing had to be stopped. At that moment, the landline rang forth. It was a recorded message; “Your internet connection will be disconnected in 24hrs – We have detected a hacking on your computer. Contact BT on… That’s as far I let the machine ramble on! I rang off, it must be a con of some sort being played on me.
I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle of Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in.
I took the evening medications, making sure I took another Dioctyl® poop-softener, I don’t want to go through the same agony as this morning again.
The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.
Then got the nosh sorted and served up.
As tired as I was, the nosh, eaten slowly, well masticated and savoured, got a taste-rating of 8.8/10. I must write down the extras I put in this Chill-Con-Carne.
I got the pots washed, and settled down early for once, in search of sleep. Which arrived pretty quickly, and lasted unbroken for three hours, before I woke up with a start, in desperate need of a wee-wee!
I’m sending wishes through the ether, that this will happen! ♥
Sunday 29th November 2020
Sunday 29th November 2020
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01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a narcoleptic? Why I ask? I’m still waiting for an answer. Hehehe!
The mind seemed to be more responsive as well, the thoughts seemed more apparent when I talked to myself. A degree of uncustomary determination lingered as well; The Sainsbury order is due early today, Josie’s meal needs preparing and delivering, and I recalled that I’d put the new tube of Germoloid in the wet room.
I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.
So, I removed my overly-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, dirty, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and up onto the feet to catch my balance. And this, usually a struggle at times, even causing Accifauxpas, was done with fantastic ease! Grabbed Metal-Micky, and was so glad I did, cause, en route to the kitchen, I had a bit of a wobbly, had I not got the stick, I could easily have gone over. I put the kettle on.
Musing over what a mixed start to the day it’d been so far, and I’d only been up for a few minutes? It was foggy outside, and it looked so cold with it, I decided against taking any open window photographs. Made the brew, and back to the ottoman get the Health Checks done, all in auto-mode.
The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. The thermometer showed a lower temperature too, at 36.1°c.
My aboulomania flourished, as I thought about what to do about the missed medications. I took the evening ones as I did yesterday, and must remember to take the morning ones later on.
Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine?
Instead of getting on with the computerisationing as I always do after the balance, and health checks and medication taking: Amazingly, I got the dark blue zip-up jerkin hand-washed? All done, wrung and hung on the coathanger to dry, but why?
Got the computer on, and instead of cracking on with the IT diary updating, I went on Facebook updating?
Finally, I went onto the updating of the Diary. A long job, but as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades-Sandra were all in a good mood with me, I got it completed reasonably quickly. (This was worrying – something going right!)
Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, off to the wet room. The daily battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad was a massive defeat for Konrad, 4-0. Talk about yucky, a monstrous, messy, mass, manoeuvred into the bowl. A lot of effort needed to clean things furniture-wise and bodily followed—a good wash around, and back to the Computer.
Posted the diary off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and Pinterested a few snaps from the post. Then made a start on this template.
Around 06:00hrs, I heard a shuddering clunk, it sounded like it was from close-by. I had a poddle around in my bestest Sherlock Holmesian style, but could not find what it was that caused it? I hope no one has had a fall above me.
I started this writing for a while but had to stop. The ablutions needed doing, so I would be all prepared in time, in the case of the Sainsbury order arriving on the button at eight o’clock.
Back in a bit… I hope!
I’m back! I got sidetracked again going to get the ablutions done. I went hand-washing mad again. (No, I don’t know why either, it must be the bang on the head? Hehehe!)
I have to say, although it was a stand-up wash and shave, it went tremendously well. No teeth problems, only one cut shaving, only two items knocked off of the cabinet and no more than ten dropsies in total. More good fortune! (Even more worrying, especially with the Sainsbury order coming, overcharging and bad subs will almost certainly come with the food? – My EQ has just warned me!)
As I was getting staggering around getting dressed, and putting on a slipper, a sharp pain was felt underfoot! The sort you get when you stand on something sharp, or a shard of glass. It was hard-work, painful, plaguy and galling, taking a photo of the wound. The Robert Morley like stomach tended to get in the way, Haha! I think it was a new papule coming up. Gawd it didn’t half sting when I put the foot down.
Sorry about the photo coming out in mono. Yet another mysterious wonder of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their Satanic mission, to hinder, scare, blight, embarrass, manacle, and throw a spanner in Inchcocks works, plans, hopes, and confidence! Which they succeeded in, but they usually do!
I took some photographs from the unliked kitchenette window. The fog (when writing this six hours or so later) only got thicker as the day went on. Oh, dear!
Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe!
Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on.
Incidentally, the wee-wees were few and far between today. I just thought I’d mention it like.
Moments later, the intercom rang out and lit up. T’was the Sainsbury order arriving. The driver’s first words were; “Sainsbury order, are you coming down to pick the stuff up?” I gave an “Oh… well, I’ll have to, I suppose!” I farted about getting a mask on, and the intercom went again. The driver asked if we had a lift. I said yes, and he said he’d bring the stuff up then. Thank heavens for that!
He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.
Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been substituted with smaller-size ones!
Plus, they were different from each other? I’d ordered two large size packets, but these were both medium-sized ones.
Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not!
Then there was the lamentable, regrettable, disappointing, ill-advised, and stupid replacement for the delicious Potato cakes, Pikelets! Humph!
JS Pikelets, the only similarity being that they both have six items in the packet! I’d have thought the clue, ‘Potato’ might have prevented such an idiotic, inane, imbecilic, exasperating substitution, but no! (I think J Sainsbury and Morrisons are competing to get the annual, SSOTY (Stupidest-Substitution-of-the Year award). From my experience, it is a draw at the moment. They could have subbed with Irish Potato Farls, surely?
Thank heavens I ticked the ‘No Substitution’ option for the toothpaste, else I may have had a jar of pickled walnuts delivered, as well!
The Milk Roll loaf had one days life on it! Oh, and plain digestive biscuits came covered in chocolate. But I’m not complaining about that, there is a chance or even likelihood, that I ordered the wrong one, so fair do’s on that score.
Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles!
I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.
The only thing that pleased me was that they had sent the cheapo (60p) Chilli-Con-Carne, (Morrisons had substituted their (59p) one, with £2.58 substitutes!)
So, now I have a good stock of CCC in the kitchen, not the cupboard, that is already full. Hehehe!
Also, the can of Fray Bento’s meatballs in Chilli sauce, that can now be added to a tin that Hubbard’s (Sainsbury own label) Chilli Con Carne, making an easy peasy meal one day soon?
I’ll not starve for a bit, anyway. I may have a heart attack or another stroke, but still, it’s summat to look forward to – the Chilli, not the snuffing it! Glad I cleared that up!
I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.
Then sorted the unwanted good from J Sainsbury’s crap substitutes and my possible (I think it was!) error on the chocolate biscuits I shouldn’t eat. Ahem! To take them down to Jenny’s, with some treats for Nora and Frank of the alcoholic variety. Hehe!
Of I poddled down in the lift to deliver the unwanted crap substitutes from J Sainsbury’s to Jenny’s. Who can use them as part of her charity, or whatever? They always get used to help others, with Jenny in control. Bless her!
I made a call before leaving, to Jen, to moan, lament, and bicker about the substitutions again. Hehe! And let her know I was on my way. Down and delivered them, back up and put the stuff in the waste chute on my floor.
I had a look on the Wilko site, as Jenny suggested to see if they had any PPs on sale. It was a £50 limit to get free delivery, or a minimum £10 charge. They only had a couple of men’s pants, and they were not cheap.
So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size.
I then tended to prepare Josie’s meal sorted out. It was hard work doing it up today, not sure why. The cheesy potatoes were a little loose, I’d but in too much butter. But I think she likes them like that.
I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well.
Please, I came back to the flat, did the washing up from the first nosh, and started updating the blog. Gawd this took me hours and hours! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had kicked off, creating error after mistake after cock-up! It was a frustrating time, and in the end, I had to give up.
I got my nosh going. I’m sure I’d ordered some battered fish on Iceland’s order, so to make room for them in the freezer, I had some, with the potato letters and peas.
I was suddenly all in again. No concentration left, and the right side of me was jumping and jerking, shoulder (SSS), and leg, which was threatening to do a Neuropathy Pete involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. But it didn’t, just stayed with its mini-palpitations throbbing away to its heart’s content.
I’ll have to finish this in the morning.
Good morning!
I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. I was wearied, worn-out and worryingly hebetudinous. But, hunger helped me continue. The meal was worth 6.5/10, no doubt a reduced rating, due to my being so done-in.
I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I?
It didn’t matter, cause I fell asleep again!
When I stirred once more, minutes later, I must have been dreaming about this quandary over the tub of dessert, because I found myself reaching for the yoghourt ith the long picker-upperer, and throwing it in the waste bin. How I managed this physically was something of a miracle. Did I actually do it, or imagined doing it? Will I wake up in the morning and tread on it? On and on the Thought-Storms raged!
Looking back, I wasn’t even sure that I wasn’t dreaming all of this?
I nodded off again, waking up again, wanting a wee-wee. As I had got up and was catching my balance, the agony from the mystery growth under the foot, made me jump a bit, no a lot! Got the wee-wee taken, staggered untidily to wash my hands, back to the c1968 recliner, got down painfully on the ringed cushion, (I’d missed the centre and started Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging). I added recent events to the notepad. (Not that I could read the scrawl easily in the morning)
Oh, dearie me, I’d left the light on! Crying was an option, but self-loathing was stronger, and I silently cursed myself, got up to turn off the light, and suffered when the new papule, or whatever it is under the foot gave me more discomfort.
I think I had another discussion with the boss, Mr G. Mostly inquiring as to why he bothered to let me be born, maltreated me. Gave me so many defeats in life. And was now giving me agony, frustrations and confidence-destroying failures? I got no answers!
Failing to get back to sleep, I realised as I lay there discussing things with the Thought-Storm, I probably deserve the luck I’m getting, fir things I have done in early life. I tried to recontact Mr G and apologised for bothering him.
04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.
05:00hrs: Woke, and nodded off again. Loathing the thought of having to move, I needed an expergefactor; yet was venerated, well-pleased when it didn’t come.
05:20hrs: Woke, and was even more determined not to rise and partake in life again. A smidge of guilt as I was writing down the time on the Inchcock Today notepad, realising I’d been sleeping for at least eight, much-needed hours. More than I have slept for in twenty-eight years! Great!
05:40hrs: Back into semi-life mode. No calls for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne, so I nodded off again.
0645hrs: This was the end of my first sleeping-in, overlaying session, whatever you want to call it; I could feel the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) was gathering in readiness for an escape bid. So, after fumbling about in an odd sort of panicky fashion to get free of the recliner, and catching my balance, I hastened as fast as my stomached-dominated body would let me, to the wet room.
I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… However, it was not needed. For the battle for supremacy between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was 1-1 draw.
A very messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean!
Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!
The rear end needed a lot of cleaning and freshening, mind! Which took me a while. Not that mattered this morning. Having done the templates yesterday and with my feeling so out of sorts with the timing, I’m not used to getting up as late as this, and the body-clock got genuinely confused.
It was already gone 07:00hrs, and all I’d done was the Porcelain Throne session! I felt out-of-sorts with it all!The body must have told me I needed the extra kip, (which I did, I worked it out and think I was up for twenty-five hours yesterday, most of it struggling to get the templates done). So, Sweet Morpheus supplied it for me.
As I was getting the things ready for the Health Checks, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) started to give me harassment. And she has stayed all day, vindictively stabbing away at me! Spurgledamnations! But, now I think about it, it was most likely due to the long hours in the recliner that had caused Brenda to kick-off?
I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down. Brunglebogs!
The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4°c.
I got the kettle on, and the medications prepped, and I had a look, out of the new, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen window, and it felt odd?
This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke from last nights photos and had another look at the news to see if I could find out what had caused the fire. Nope!
I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on.
I got the computer on and started to update the Friday blog.
It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe!
It was extremely late by the time I’d got it finished. Tsk! Sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the links, Pinterested some snaps, and did the Facebooking catching up. I went to check on the comments, there was the usual mass of them from my fans, and I answered both of them.
Went to make a brew, and found I had not put the passata away after opening it and adding some to he Chill-Con-Carne las night! I had to dish it. Humph!
Not that it bothered me in the slightest.
I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.
I made an Iceland order up for next week. Got a slot for Tuesday 1st December, 08:00 > 10:00hrs.
Beginning to feel all airy-fairy in mind, stopped all activities to concentrate on getting the meal prepared, without making any mistakes, Whoopsiedangleplops ar Accifauxpas.
I couldn’t believe, after the longest sleep I’ve had, (last night), for years, that I felt so drained and tired already?
I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted).
Ate most of it, Taste: 6/10. I stayed awake long enough to eat the yoghourt, too!
Got the TV on, and fell asleep within minutes.
And stayed like this, in the land of nod, for five-hours! I’ve gone from can’t get any sleep to, can’t stay awake within 24 hours?
23:45hrs: I woke up just before midnight, still in pain from BPB & AG (Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna). And Harold’s Haemorrhoids soon joined in trenchantly, the moment I moved my stomach-dominated body.
I first felt, then spotted and removed the TV remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, pencil, and crumbs from the oleaginous folds of my belly fat. Well, it made a change, Hehe!
By the time I’d fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and gingerly standing up, Haemorrhoid Harold had taken over the position as LPAG (Lead-Pain-Ailment-Giver), the Germoloid ointment will be needed soon! Tsk!
A wee-wee was taken in the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).
This was of the (Unwilling-Weak-Sprinkly) variety, but the colour was, according to the Urologists Colour-Check-Card, within the ‘Healthy’, ‘Good’ number two-level, for the first time in months. Excellent!
I tended to the Health Checks. The body temperature was the same as yesterday, at 36.8°c. The battery indicator seems to have gone up a tad today?
And, what a change in the results of the Boots BP sphygmomanometer for the SYS result!
Down to 145, from yesterdays 171? I wonder why? I’m not complaining at all, but it would be nice to know the reason.
.I remembered not being able to get out last afternoon, with the waste bags to go to the rubbish chute. Some workers were doing something and had blocked the exit. Good job there wasn’t a fire. But then again, perhaps I had been informed and had forgotten about it. I wouldn’t be amazed if this was true.
I had a nip out of the door and flats door into the lift lobby, to have a nosey. I took these photographs with the Canon camera.
I could see some plastering had been done on the near end wall. I hope the mess left on the new flooring will clean up alright when they get around to it. It appears to be just some smeared plaster, so it should buff up alright without any damage to the new floor tiles. Obviously, they will be working again today to finish the painting off.
I hope to be able to get out to the chute sometime. But as the permitted time to use the chute starts at 08:00hrs, and the workers begin at the same time, it may mean me keeping the smelly bags of waste in the hallway for another day or so before I can access the chute room. Hey-ho!
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, a little later than usual. Off to the wet room, down on the seat, and waited for the action to start, which it didn’t! I had a go on the crosswording, read the ankle strap instruction and was about to give up when things started actioning from the rear end! I girded my loins, gritted my teeth, and winced in expectation of the upcoming pain…
The torpedo left the tube, with… wait for it… NO PAIN AT ALL! No bleeding either! Once it began slithering, it was all over and done within a minute! I hoax you not!
Fair enough, it was a tad messy, and that needed attention to detail, and time to clean up.
However, it was a delayed action jobbie, but it was as near a normal evacuation as I’ve ever had! Gawd, bless the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules! Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit! Well pleased!
I had a concentrated blast on updating the Monday IT blog. Accepting no interruptions for tea brewing, and fortunately, the wee-weeing seemed to have dried up? I should drink more.
Anne Gyna and Back-pain-Brenda both got less severe, but Duopdenal Donald started off. Can’t win ’em all!
It took three hours, but I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a few shots, Emailed the link, and then I did some Facebooking catch-up.
Doing this, I got messages first from Norton. I needed attention: back-up, Vin and Security issues. I clicked on the amend buttons, and things seem alright now, I’ve got the green light on again? Then dropbox alerted me. I followed their instructions.
Closed the window (It said I can) while it worked, and had a peek at the feet, cause the ankle ulcer was tingling a bit. I’m not surprised, it looked to me as if it was moving up the leg, and had s new growth coming up on it?
Did another graphics, and checked on the closed window thingy for Dropbox. And it was still working away?
Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up on that.
Oh, blimey, it’s getting late! Better get a quickie ablutions session done! Even though I rushed at it (No shower), there was only eight dropsies and two tiny shaving cuts. No dizzies, but I did bash my shoulder on the door frame coming out afterwards. Another pretty good event!
I came to the front room (I haven’t got a back one, Hehe!), and thought I’d have a few nuts to nibble. Could I find them? No! Well, not least not for ages spent searching and looking in the most stupid places for the pot. I found cunningly hiding in plain view, in front of the TV. Harrumph!
I hope to catch the bus to Sherwood after the Morrison delivery has arrived and been sorted. But my EQ is telling things will not go well? Then I had a look on the web, an email had come in from Morrisons.
They’ve done it again. There were many missing and substituted items again. With my arithmophobia and dyscalculia, I can’t tell if I’ve been overcharged or not. But the total has been lowered, then again, I bought a lot of stuff on offer? Every order they do this to me. I’m cheesed of with them.
I went out on the balcony and took a photo of the sky towards the West, showing balconies of some the flats. Seconds later, the red bits in the clouds were masked, and it went dark, I felt certain that it was going to rain, but it hasn’t yet. I just thought you’d like to know, like.
I did a few more small trash bags up, and put them with the others in the big box, waiting to go to the rubbish chute. Then I was about to nip out to the lift lobby but stopped myself when I realised that the Morrison delivery driver may press the intercom at any time. Not that they have ever come on time, not for the last three deliveries anyway. With my luck, if I had gone out, they would have come at that time. Of course, they didn’t arrive again until after the given hour with the slot. So, I still don’t know if the workers have blocked the exit or not yet. This might prove a problem when the goods do arrive. Assuming they will get here eventually.
I see that ‘Grammarly’ have started doing automatic Spelling and Grammar checks now. I like it!
10:15hrs: The Morrison order has not arrived. It states clearly on the email, 09:00 > 10:00 hrs! Last delivery I had from them, I rang the company, and a recorded message told me… “You can rest assured that if we are delayed for any reason, you will be informed and told a new ETA” Rollocs! That one arrived 2½hrs late, and I didn’t hear anything from Morrisons!
Now, here I am stupid enough to give them another order! What an Eizel, Luftmensh, I am!
Found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottingham.
There I was, waiting patiently, and keeping up a semi-spirited outlook on things, despite Morrisons best efforts to get me all hot and bothered with their stupid substitutions on the way. And my £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang. Chortle! Giggle!
It was the omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Warden, and Pole Dancer, Deana. Inquiring if I had a Morrison order coming today, (The heart sank). Apparently, my super-big order, the one with the unwanted substitutions I wanted to return; Had been delivered to Winchester Court, not Woodthorpe! Flibblegonkackles Glibblebonks! Globdanglesods! Spurgledamnations! and Hogglebogwash!
Perhaps the signs are not large enough at five-storeys high and ten-foot wide? I’ll ask Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/ Catwalk Model, Angela Gould if we change the signs with added flashing lights in heliotrope and silver, and an arrow with Morrison in it, on the rooftops of each Court? Fernacklcumps!
Deana said she would bring the shopping to me. Bless Her ♥ Deana and Sturmscharführeress Catwalk Model, Warden Julie soon arrived at the flat with the belated, much-travelled Morrison order for me. Bless their cotton socks! ♥.They even brought them inside for me. I thanked them graciously, and off back to work they poddled.
The unwanted and overpaid for substituted foodstuffs, I thought Jenny’s friends who she helps could use. So I put the other stuff away, and made a carrier with the strawberry trifles, Curry flavoured pot noodles, a can of Posh Perry for Nora some other bits in it, and called to explain why I was coming down to ring on her bell. We had a good chinwag, which is always nice.
I got the box full of bags taken with me and visited the waste-chute on the way. Then down in an elevator to Jenny’s level, and put the bag outside her door, rang her bell, and had a problem turning the trolley around, and bashed my ankle-ulcer on the wheel arch, that steadied me up a bit! Jenny appeared at the door, had a look at the goods and declared they could all be made us of for someone worse off than us. That’s Jenny! ♥
Getting a lift back u[p was a smidge farcical. I ended up going down, ended up on the ground floor. But the bonus was meeting a tenants daughter and Francis and having a little natter. (Silver Lining!)
I eventually got back up to the flat and was feeling a little drained. And got on with prepping a meal. I used a can of Chilli-Con-Carne and added some gravy, Balsamic vinegar, mild chilli seasoning. Chopped some tomatoes, (A little cut) to it as well. I tried a taste, I feared it may be a tad too hot for my liking, should have left off adding the chilli powder, methinks.
On a low heat, and updated this blog, in between going to stir the fodder in the saucepan.
I put the waste from the cooking, into a little bag, and started to fill the box again.
Well tired now, I’d been up for about 13 hours or so. I concentrated on getting the meal right from then on. Turned off the computer, I can catch up on things later or in the morning. At least Anne Gyna was easing off nicely. (Thanks, Anne!) Not BPB, though, I think I may have to see the quack about her. But she started after the tumble on the wet-room, so might ease off later on. (And pigs might fly!)
I had a little review of today, Whoopsiedangleplop-wise for a moment or two… Up until the Morrison disaster, things were going well, apart from BPB giving me permanent, persistent pain, of course.
I got the Irish soda bread out. A messy crumbly feast to eat. Hahaha! Not a delicate or dainty taste, of a mealy texture, but tasty, and highly suitable for soaking up the Chilli gravy. A first-class, nonpareil, supreme loaf and depositor of crumbs on the recliner, carpet, and in my stomach folds!
I ate half of the small sliced loaf of bread with the chilli-con-carne. It was at my limit for hotness, but this didn’t stop me enjoying it, and granting a flavour-rating of 8.5/10!
Undoubtedly, one of the best Chillies I’ve had so far. As you can see by how the tray looked as I took it away to soak overnight in suds and bleach in the sink.
I got stripped (the thought makes me cringe) and settled in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep. I’d hoped putting on the TV would have a somniferous effect, but no! The thought-storms in my hypnagogia began, and the debitage of my life, the failures, the mistakes, guilt and fears, cascaded around in my head.
The Egads, there was a mangled, menagerie of mentalese memories in there. That I could well have done without remembering!
