22:20hrs: I stirred into imitation life instantly panicking! I was being bombarded with worries, concerns and fear all at the same time it seemed.
Mo’s funeral to attend, and I hope to enjoy saying my farewells to her, the biggest concern perhaps; for my travelling there in a taxi, means I cannot take the walker with me, and do not feel too confident in using the walking stick.
I’m also fearing the affected right leg having a Neuropathic Schuhplattler flailing-about dance.
The biggest worry is if I fall asleep at the Service! I have often so regularly nodded-off unintentionally: on buses, hospital and surgery waiting rooms, even stood up one time.
Then there’s the Bank Manager who needs to see me! How can I get to the branch as requested? Time is the killer. Tuesday I have the Medicine Team and blood nurse coming to see me.
I have no daily prescription medications left at all now. How can I get to the chemist to find out what’s going on?
Then there’s the bleeding between my legs. And a list as long as the Magna Carta I want to discuss with the Doctor…
I’m not in good shape mentally at all. I do want anything to disturb or bother my devotions and cheerios for Mo.
Eventually, giving up on finding out what I can do to ease the situation, and ended up deciding I need help. Huh! I’ve been through this before, there is none available. Perhaps the Samaritans can help? Humph!
I was so annoyed at myself for thinking like this. I tried to put things other than getting to Mo’s funeral, get that over and enjoyed, then try to get the other stuff sorted. I might try to ask my ILC Warden Deana if she can help by phoning the Bank, no, that will be too early – Crap! If she can call the chemist for me, and the doctors, I will try to get to see her this morning before the taxi arrives, but time will be tight… everything seems against me! I’m getting even more despondent than when I woke up!
I searched my muddled brain for a glimmer of hope somewhere and realised that if I can’t get the medications, then there’s no point in worrying about the bank. ‘Shudder, going bonkers here!’ HELP!
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, blessedly! I forced my way painfully out of the £300 second-hand recliner, Arthur Itis letting me know he was there, got on my feet, grabbed the stick and off to the wet room. Well, a surprisingly acceptable session. No bleeding from the rear end, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, and far less to be evacuated.
I got in the kitchen, but of course, there were no blisters of medications available for me to take. So I rooted through the medical drawer in search of any old tablets to take. I had plenty of Warfarin, some paracetamol and found some old Simvastin and Ramipril that I took, but they were both well out of date, but still, what choice did I have. I found two beta-blockers that were even more out of use-by-date and took one.
Not the best of situations. I’m worried about myself now, Hehehe! Is there any help to be had? HELP!
I took a photo from the kitchen window, almost mechanically. A view showing the lights going down Winchester Street.
I got updating yesterday’s blog. It took a while, cause bothe Saccades Sandra and the fingers and right-side neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain were playing up, and typing was an ever-correcting nightmare. But I got there in the end and posted off the diary.
After going on the WordPress Reader, putting some photos on Pinterest and going on the TFZer Facebook, I needed to return for the third visit to the Porcelain Throne! This time it was so different. A small deposit, much bleeding from Harold Haemorrhoid and Little Inchies Lesion. Not so good! Had a clean-up and medicalisationing session, and made another mug of tea.
Started this post going up to here. Then had to make some graphics up on CorelDraw for later use. I even got a template up ready for tomorrow.
I got the Bank, and Chemist number, just in case for Deana when I go down.
Then the stand-up ablutions tended to. Again there were a good few dropsies, cuts, bleeding and a couple of knocks when the peripheral neuralgia gave me an energetic involuntary performance of a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, flail-about dance! I’d say the Sock-Glide struggle was a draw. A couple of little nicks shaving. After the washing was all done, I set about applying Daktacort, Germoloid, Savlon, Corticosteroid, Varesil creams and Fenbid-Forte gel. Eye-wash, nasal-unblocker and Saccades Sandra spray. Good job I started the scrub-up earlier than usual!
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry. The new long-sleeved brown t-shit was washed for the first time – and it is now black! Still, it is thicker and warmer, although far shorter than the expensive one. Maybe if I’d ordered black shirts, they might have turned brown when I washed them? Hehehe! The delights of Amazon, eh!
I got the taxi monies in the pocket with my super G8 mobile. Treats put in the trolley and made my way down with the hopes of Deana being able to assist me with my problems of the bank, and the prescriptions. Or rather lack-of medications, by phone for me, so I do not mishear, anything said.
I took the black bags to the waste chute on the way down. In the lift, to the ground floor, thought the link passage swipe door and along to the end and the Independent Living Coordinators holding and interrogation office. Dropped off the box and knocked on the door, no answer. So, back up to get my coat on, but I forgot to put my hearing aids in. I decided to go back up again, to drop off the trolley and put in the aids, then. This I did, and down again.
There was no reply to my knocking, so I wandered around a bit in the foyer. Angela and Roy came along, and I nattered to them, and tried the door again, this time, it was answered. I told Pole-Dancer, Warden and ILC of my problems. She asked for more details and gave both the Bank and the Chemist a ring, but neither were answering, too early I suppose. With my going Mo’s funeral, ask if the chemist could leave any medications here in the office. That is if he came out while I was here. But no, the girls would be at other flats on stand-by duty to cover for holidays. Said she’d ring them later. So, I’m none the wiser if I will be getting the medications or I’ll just have to snuff-it, mainly due to having no Bisoprolol (Beta-blockers), Simvastatin or Codeine left. Is no one bothered? Silly question, of course, they aren’t! I’m such a fool!
I was on my way back upstairs, when Gaynor appeared, sorting out the taxi and passengers for the trip to Mo’s Do! She said there was no time to go back for the hearing aids as the mini-cab was due any minute. I must have misread the sign on the board, I thought it was for 09:25hrs. As I said, I’m such a fool! So I stayed down with the others.
We went outside to wait, but the taxi was late coming. We were all under the control of Gaynor ♥. He looked after us and got us safely to the parlour. I took a few pictures while we waited outside.
Coddled by Gaynor (I liked that!) we arrived at the funeral parlour and had timed it to perfection. Many other tenants were in attendance with Mo’s family members.
Once inside, the remembrance started. But I could not hear a single word, but this was good. For it let me cast my mind back to memories I was lucky enough to share with Mo at the flats, without hindrance. A personal thing. Her choice of music was perfect! ‘Elvis, The Wonder of You’. And Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Perfick!
As soon as the whole thing was over, it went so quickly, and I felt good. As we got in the taxi (I was nurtured and fitted in the seat belt by Gaynor), my mind started to fret over the medications again. The talk was light-hearted, with mentions of sadness for Mo’s departure, no not morbidly.
When we arrived back at Winwood Court, the two gals dropped me of (I was assisted out of the taxi by Gaynor!) and shot off to the Sherwood for the drinkies. I had to make my way to the ILCs office to try and find out what had taken place concerning the pharmacist. But no one was in, they had probably gone to the ST Anns block already. My stomach churned a bit with frustration and not knowing if the prescriptions will be coming today or not! Off course, Deana may have tried to ring me, but we all turned off our mobiles for Mo’s service of course. Then again, she (Deana) is a busy gal.
So, I walked back again to the Woodthorpe Court and up into the flat. No messages or notes in the door about anything. My heart sank a little. The inconscient fretting grew stronger, as less and less time would be available for any corrective attempts if the stuff isn’t going to arrive! More natural to just pass-away, in my sleep, I hope!
I got the mobile on charging-up. Then I could not find the longer one of the two wooden walking sticks? I recall using it when I took the first load of black bags to the chute. But surely I would not have walked back without it, I couldn’t have? Could I?
With me having adopted a Panic-Mood-Mode, even then, I have the two other sticks, no need to have fretted. But I found myself worrying, and got the other wooden stick and went to look in the rubbish-chute room, in case I had left it in there, which I knew I wouldn’t have, but still hobbled to check it out! Sanity Alert! (Klaxon sounding in my head)
I could not believe how calm and accepting I felt while I was out, and now I’ve turned back into a pessimist, misanthrope and depressed-worryguts again! I hate myself when this Quick-Change for the worse happens! Have to put up with though, until I hopefully hear something positive from the chemist and or Bank. If I don’t, well, it doesn’t stand thinking about. HELP!
I started up update this blog. The goodbye to Mo and kind help from Gaynor was a pleasure to recall and write about, but when I got back to the anxieties of the unknown factors from the chemist stuff, it was hard, frustrating, error-ridden and depressing.
I put the kettle on to make a brew. And split some hot water over me pouring out the tea. A sort of acceptance of failure, combined with guilt, meant I didn’t even swear or jump really. I may have said to myself; ‘What d’you expect, good luck, help? Idiot!’
I slowly, calmly got the Savlon cream from the wet-room and cold-watered the hand before applying the cream. Then, Shaking Shaun arrived, (As if to teach me a lesson), and I dropped the bloody tube, straight down the toilet, Splosh! It never touched the sides on its way down! I hope this querulous-neurosis, mental or psychological agitation, derangement or whatever, is only temporary! Humph!
I took three pictures of the brew while making the second cuppa, I’ve called the three of them, Nottinghamian’s Close-knit Community.
I called at Josie’s flat to give her the Limoncello I forgot to provide her with Sunday’s meal. But there was no answer, so I returned it to the fridge. Then made a brew again and got on with this post once more.
I’ll nip down to see if Deana is available again, and has any news from the chemists for me. Hello, it’s gone awfully dark outside suddenly. Ah, the rain is drizzling.
Ah-well, off I go. Deana not there. Not answering her mobile. I’ve no chance of getting anything sorted now. Grumble-Sodit-Blast! – Crabs and Grobblecraps!!!
Got the nosh ready. I should have enjoyed it, but with the worry over the medications, I didn’t. Rating 5/0.
Put thing to soak in the bowl. Moved the handwashing, the new ‘was-brown-now-black long-sleeved t-shirt was still wet. Put in on the airer.
I did my best to stay awake, watched telly, any programme that had subtitles, cause I didn’t want to miss hearing the intercom or door in case the medications arrived late. Huh, they didn’t come!
I even got up and had another search around in case I did have another blister-pack week that had fallen behind the stack of drawers. But there was none there. Eventually, I fell asleep, the worries of the day had gone for a while anyway.
A few hours later, the door chimes woke me from my half-sleep, I struggled to my feet and wobbled to answer it. Thinking at last! The tablets had arrived… but no! It was Josie returning her plate tray etc. to me from her Sunday meal. I’d asked her not to in case of waking me, but obviously, the gal had forgotten about this. I’m not sure what we said, being half-awake, but feel we chattered.
Tray and things taken to the kitchen, and I returned to the recliner, I wanted, now I had been woken, to stay awake longer, just in case the medications did arrive. But couldn’t.
23:00hrs: I woke, with a frustrationalisticness, due to my not being able to recall the dream I’d been having, but had the idea that I wanted to, so I could mention it on this blog. Ah, well, no idea what it was about!
I lay for a short while, considering my few remaining options in life. My bucket list, and needs, hopes and inspirations. Plans for the future. Desires and needs! This took me about two minutes!
I began to reluctantly wrench out my dilapidated, somewhat flabby-bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis immediately complained in his usual fashion and stung me with some pain-giving twinges. I got up into a semi-perpendicular stance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
As soon as I pressed the power button, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, urgently! Again, it was a close call getting there in time, and what a session this was! Bloody, messy and most uncomfortable.For a description of the evacuated dollop, think a torpedo-shaped long bale of hay! Cricky, I’m glad now that I didn’t eat much of last night’s meal! I might still be sat on the Throne now if I had! Certain areas needed sanitising and medicating, with TLC! Had a wash and back to make the brew.
With the struggle in passing, I mixed a sachet of the Macrogol first.
Then made the brew and took the medications.
To the computer, and started things off with the updating of Saturday post.
As I began typing, a few things became apparent to me. Saccades Sandra was going to give me some hassle. Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me. And I had some new growths to join the old one, on the right hand! They came out almost orange in the photograph? Not a lot surprised me nowadays with the ever-changing ailments. But this did.
The updating took less time than usual, as I had condensed things, in an effort to spend less time on the computer, and get some cleaning up done and much needed rest. I got it finished and posted off. Then went to make another mug of tea. As well as the photo above, I took a couple of pictures of the view from the unwanted, light & view-blocking new windows.
The first one through the opened window, the second from inside. As the rain was soaking me through with the window open.
Back to the computer and…
Then…
The wee-wees had been persistent all morning, so I went for yet another. Most of them were in the LBRWS (Long-But-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) mode.
While waiting for Liberty-Global Virgin Media to return on-line, I went to tidy up the kitchen (Gawd, it needed it!) and make yet another drink.
I went to get out next weeks medicine tray and realised that there wasn’t one, I’d just used up my entire supply? I rather hope the new ones will be delivered today!
Life is something that tests one’s patience, especially people like medical patients! Haha!
Back to the computer, and Liberty-Global internet was back on, but fluctuating between slow and dead-slow, now!
I went on the WordPress Reader. Then posted some Pinterest photographs. And yet another urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived. This time it was an even-closer shave to making it to the seat in time! I took a very poor, although I didn’t realise it at the time, snap of the knees. With Arthur Itis giving me such bother, I expected they would be all bloated and warped, but no, they seemed okay to me? Hey-ho!
I made a start on this blog for a while (with many wee-wee and Saccades Sandra delays). Then decided to try to write an ode I’d been thinking of while doing this blog, but had forgotten what it was about! Humph!
I was suddenly hungering and hankering for something to eat for brekkers. I made a mug of Thompsons best tea and had a packet of salt & vinegar Chipsticks, the last jam tart and a bar of orange club biscuit! Followed with a few cashew nuts. But not a lot!
Then decided to get the ablutions done, as it was gone the witching-hour of 08:00hrs. I had a change of plans (I’m well-known for this, you know, Hehe!) and decided to take the black bags to the chute. Then down with the recyclable carrier and carrier of glass for the small bin. I chanced to take them down, using just the walking stick.
And I was doing well until I got into the three flats hallway and a visit from Dizzy Dennis was suffered. I didn’t go down or anything dangerous, but I did drop the bag of empty glass jars and bottles! None broke either, but the noise they made, has most likely made me as popular with the other tenants, as Nigel Farage would be at the Liberal Party Conference! Humph!
I pointlessly whispered an “I’m sorry!” And carried on into the lift and down and outside with the bags. It dawned on me; I had not taken the two black bags to the chute! It was raining and windy out there, so I got the job done as quickly as I could to avoid getting soaked and returned to Woodthorpe Court with the rubbish-bags. Remembering this time, to deposit the black bags in the waste chute, and avoid clouting my head on the lid this time. Which I did! Smug-Mode Adopted!
– Back to the flat, and tackled the ablutionalisational duties. A few dropsies and it went pretty well for me until it came to the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle. Two trapped fingers, on for each sock, both forced me into a quietly uttered few words of an intemperate nature. I also noted while in the shower, (apart from not, I say Not, dropping the soap or showerhead), that the tiles on the wall were getting a tad grimy looking.
The pins had changed a little. The ankle swelling had gone down a lot.
Signs of Venous Insufficiency, and spider, femoral veins were slowly coming back a little more prominently.
Thankfully, Arthur Itis was seemingly easing off somewhat too.
So I got out the Mildew and Mould sprays and created a cunning plan! Oh, yes! I would sit on the shower stool and reach down to the lower tiles, and stand on it, to reach the higher ones. Good eh? The very moment I hit the floor after falling out of the chair, I knew this was not going to work after all! I struggled back on my feet and applied some Phorpain Gel on the elbow and shin. Buenos Dias! Int’ life a gas? Hehehe! I withdrew from the Mildew-removal activities area, and guess what?
Porcelain Throne duties No.3 were needed! A good job I was so close to the WC bowl, as things moved along fast and almost caught me out again, a sort of self-starting and finish when the innards felt they were ready to, session! However, a third-variety of evacuation followed. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain, the enormity of the released product seemed less this time. It’s a busy day for a Sunday!
The rain seemed to have stopped, but the sun was in and out a bit regular, so I left the lights on. I nipped out quickly (quickly, hahaha!), to go on the rooftop of Winwood Court, to try and catch some photographs while the sun was shining.
Huh! another change of plans. I just remembered that I have no tablets left! So I rang the Pharmacy, without realising it was ‘Sunday’, what an idiot! I’ve got enough Warfarin and Simvastatin for today, but desperately short of Codeine. So, somehow tomorrow, I’ve got to call the chemist and find out what’s happening, and also see the Bank Manager. Hang on, there’s Mo’s funeral to go to on Monday! I’m getting all confused, sad, and going on a downer now!
Still, Josie’s nosh to be prepared yet. How can one go from so high to so low in an instant? I’d better make a start. I noticed while getting Josie’s nosh prepared, that the odd orangey-red marks on the right hand had disappeared or dissipated altogether? But the two older scars were still there? I baked on smoked haddock-cheese and potato rissole a little longer today. Put some of the Tuna with mayonnaise and sweetcorn on for another trial for her. Sliced tomato, mushrooms and garden peas. A can of Gin & Tonic, and a limoncello dessert top round it off. Makes it a bit of a change for her to try. I hope she likes the new stuff. I delivered it spot on the usual time, as anyone who is a personal chef should do. Hehe!
I got back inside, and Shaking Shaun had a go at me. Left me in a bit of a dodgy condition as I plated my own nosh, Dizzy Dennis joined in the ‘Let’s-get-at-Inchcock’ session.
To be frank, memories after this part of the day, do not exist. But I woke later in the evening, panicking.
22:30hrs: I woke up, already concentrating on what will most likely, be my longest-ever updating session. Yesterday’s events will take a lot of sorting out. I took a few photographs and xyrophobia-suffering, flat-burglar, brother-in-Law Pete, with his Galaxy S10+Fold, which increases the storage to 1TB. That operates as a normal smartphone until you open it, at which point it becomes a small tablet. A snip at £1514.4921, took the other photo’s at his mansion and sent them to me via email, to use.
With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph!
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications.
I took a very shaky photo through the kitchen door facing the unwanted, new, light and view-blocking window cannot get to clean, windows. The shakes and twitching nerve transmissions are now really getting to me, as they have made my holding the camera steady enough to t a take any worthy, semi-clear shots are so annoying.
In between having many mugs of tea, consultations with the notes I made, and Dizzy Dennis visits, it took me until gone 09:00hrs to get the post finished and posted off! Yes, a total of over ten hours! Such is my ridiculous circumspection and lack of control of mind and body! I fear I might have to finish doing the Inchcock Today’s, and I love doing them to try and cheer folks up.
I am in a right pickle now. Drained and shaky. But something has to be done, or help found. I might just do the odd ode now and then, instead. Saccades Sandra didn’t help things today, she had me with double-vision. Causing me to do more correctionalisationing that typing! I am sad, undecided person. Unwashed and feeling despondent and so tired-out. Depressed beyond my own belief!
Gawd, reading this makes me feel a right sad moaning Git! However, I tried to pull around and pressed on sending some pictures to Pinterest. Went on the WordPress Reader. Then spent far too long on my beloved TFZer Facebooking. Topped up some photo albums. My typing got even worse now!
I got some mushrooms and peas ready to warm up. I put the oven heating up too.
As I did so, the door-chimes rang out. It was the second long-sleeved brown t-shirt delivery. That the Tracker said would arrive between the 11th and 14th of the month. Somehow, I’m not surprised.
A good job I hadn’t what I had initially planned to, and gone to see the Bank Manager today. Not that I would have had the time.
Around 1400hrs, I gave up altogether, and closed it all down, and went to get something to eat, before I fell asleep. Saccades, getting worse.
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph!
Got down and ate the meal.. rating 7/10.
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
Settled in the recliner and had a mind stew. I have to stop doing these dairy type things, they are just too much for me in my state.
Feeling low, unwell, undecided and decidedly down in the dumps.
23:25hrs: I woke up, with only one thing on my mind… I must get to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) as soon as possible! I became aware of some otalgia, as I gently rose and limped to the bucket. And as I was using it, the damned ‘Hum’ became a lot more noticeable. I had plenty of time to listen to it, mind. For the wee-wee was of the ELDWIEE (Extra-Long-Dribbling-Will-It-Ever-End) variety. It took so long, I nearly fell asleep again, stood-up weeing! Sheesh!
I then made sure the voucher and things that I could manage to get in the three-wheeler guide, were all present. Ready for my almost feard trip out, vicambulation around town, and second bus trip on to Sister Jane’s, HRH’s Mansion-Hall in West Bridgford.
Then off to the kitchen, where the ‘Hum’ was distinctly louder. I took the medications and made a brew. Then snapped this shot from the light & view-blocking, finger trapping new window. No moon was showing this morning, and worryingly it was drizzling and windy out there today. Mmm!
I then pressed on with updating the Wednesday diary. Eventually getting it finished and going for a new brew, and yet another wee-wee They’ve been persistent this morning) Which makes me even less confident of getting myself to Jane’s without something going wrong, or it is too much for me. The EQ was trying to tell me something.
I got the kettle on and made up a nibble tub for later in the weekend, and then made a mug of Glenghettie tea in one of the two larger China mugs.
As I moved the mug top the tray, there was tea coming out of the mug? Also, I spotted some near where I’d poured the boiling water in? I remembered dropping this mug yesterday and feeling a little smug about it not breaking. Moments later, I could see the tea coming out of the spider-crack on the side! Ah, well! I got the other mug and transferred the tea.
Back to the computer and put a few photographs on Pinterest, then onto the TFZer Facebooking. Finally, on WordPress, then to the Porcelain Throne.
Painful, think of large meatballs. Lots of bleeding. Say no more!
Turned everything off, and went to get the Unfortunately, a Stand-Up – too early to use the shower) ablutions tended to.
The session was one of more interesting (I could have used a more accurate word, but wanted to avoid using bad language. Tsk) nature. Mainly due to the dropsies, during the toe-stubbing, shaving cuts and potentially lethal Sock-Glide battle.
The dropsies included: The sink plug (now with the chain broken). The toothpaste and brush (3), mouthwash bottle, shaving foam can, razors (4), the body spray and flannel and towel (5). Followed by the Daktacort and Corticosteroid cream tubes and the PP’s.
The sock-glide altercation was the most disturbing. I knocked it off of the seat, and it landed on the freshly stubbed on the metal support bar toe! Which left me in pain for the rest of the day.
Looking on the bright-side, after getting the socks on, the legs seemed staggeringly reasonable! Despite Arthur Itis’s bad mood with me. After getting dressed and smelling all pongy with the ‘Millionaire’, Au de Toilette spray applied, I rushed and got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Checked the trolley bag and it was well filled with pressies and nibbles for the Royal Family (Jane and Pete) for delivery. I checked the flat, boy did I! I had a moment of… what’s the word, I know there is one, erm… Ah, gorrit. OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, and must have double even treble-checked some things like taps, along with the windows, lights, cooker, etc. along with others for safety, and not being left or off wrongly. So-much-so that I really had to rush about afterwards, to get to the bus stop in time. Arthur Itis was getting worse as the day went on, and the feet joined in, both with rhadamanthine severity.
I met Cyndy in the lift, she was going down early to do some laundering (Of clothes, not money, Hehe!) and we had a lovely little natter.
As I got out from the Woodthorpe Court foyer onto an unwelcome looking, dark, dank, wet, windy Chestnut Walk, I thought I’d take a couple of shots of the view towards Winchester Court flats in the murk.
As I had a look at the photographs on the viewer, I saw that it a low-battery-sign showing! Somehow, I had put the wrong battery on charge last night! I felt a right clot! Then I realised the time! And had to almost rush to get to the bus shelter!
I was sliding all over with the trolley-walker as I went down the hill to the stop, and Arthur Itis was most displeased with me rushing, and Shaking Shaun was not too pleased either. I’m such a shmegegge, schlub and Shlimazel! But it was a good job I had got a move on because the 40 bus arrived in about a minute (07:25hrs) of me getting there. Phew!
I got on the bus, paid my £2.30 fare, and settled in a side-saddle seat, that was not designed for anyone to stay seated on! But that was not the worst thing about his journey. For I knew from experience, I was going to suffer getting bashed about and trod-on by the passengers as the bus filled to over-capacity.
And this is what happened! I had the trolley squashed right in between my legs, trod on, knocked about, elbowed, glared at, shoved and kicked, by the incoming army of grumpy passengers. The usual selection of them, even the ones who were standing and jostling with other mad tempered turds, had their mobiles in use. A bloke who sat in a seat next to me and was leaning against me with his excessive midriff, I could see was playing Bingo on his phone? I was so pleased when we arrived at Upper Parliament Street at last. I got off last, as is usual for me, to avoid being trampled on in the mad rush of cheerless Nottinghamians to get off!
I called in my beloved Poundland shop and ended up buying: For Jane & Pete treats to go with what was already in the trolley for them, Glue clamps, Toffiffees, Cutting blades, Mediterranian salad, Pork Farms pie, and nuts. Along with for myself, More Dettol, Germolene, toothpaste (Well, its something for the dropsies to enjoy), shaving cream, and a Toffiffee.
I got to the self-serve tills, and the lady put the things through for me, bless her. I was soon out and back on Upper Parliament Street. I tried the camera, and it took this picture first press of the button! It looks like what it was, dark, damp and depressing. Haha!
I made my way to and down Clumber Street and arrived at the EE shop. But it was not open yet. So I hobbled, balancing the bag on the trolley with aplomb and style, I walked back up to the Victoria Centre (Mall), deciding to go to Tesco, to get some more treats for the Royal Family. And perhaps see if I can get a cheap camera that runs off of standard batteries. I made my way through the centre to Tesco and bought them some seaweed, puff pastry fingers and got myself some liquid soapflakes. Paid the lady, resorted the bags on the trolley, and walked back toward the top entrance.
Seeing an EE shop that was just opening up. So I went in to be treated like an idiot, sneered at and made most unwelcome. Four young members of staff were stood chatting and laughing with each other as I hobbled in. Obviously, I must have had an air of “You’ll not get any money from me” written all over my aged face? Because three of them all walked to the other end of the shop on my entering? The older one, presumably the manager, waited until I got to him, and finished whatever he was doing on his computer, then turned his head in my direction, and with an upward nod, said “Yea? Can I do owt for yer?” I explained about my problem with my sim-only contract phone battery dying, as to be expected after so many years, and needing a new easier to use, simpler phone to use. I was told they do not make phones any simpler than the one I had.
I edified him, about my physical problems and the buttons on the old phone I’d transferred the sim card into my 20-year old phone, were very small, hard to see and use. With an audible even to me, ‘Huh’! He went to fetch some phones that he said they noo longer stock for me to look at. While showing me them, he tried to interest me in going on the EE Internet. He explained that the one handset was no better than the one I was using and had the same size buttons, the other was a lot more expensive. I declined them both, saying I’ll manage with this one, thank you.
He was going into Defcon-three-mode. I bravely ask him if he could tell me what my current contract charges for actual calls. He got the details up on the computer. Mentioning to me as he did so, with great indifference, well he muttered it really: “I can change it to a no-limit calls contract, for the same cost… if you want me to?” “Great!” I said, showing my approval of his suggestion, as he went into Defcon-Two-Status. He did the job, and as he was computerisationing, I tried the phone, I wanted to ring Jane, but there were no numbers no the Contacts? They had not been transferred with the card. So, even after all the hassle, I could not ring her. His expert opinion when I mentioned this, of “Yer!” went unnoticed at the time, I was more worried about him falling to sleep! During the to-and-froing, I ask a whippersnapper assistant, is there any contracts that do not charge for the internet, that my mobile does not have? “Nae, it the thing nowadays, progress innit, ah fings are going!
I was not sorry at leaving the store and took a headache and modicum of frustration with me. By the time I reached the Jessop store, I’d received, well the phone had, eleven emails from EE. I’ll still not got around to reading them yet. I went into the department store, and was a little nervous, shoving the trolley-guide between all the expensive displays as I made my way to the lifts, and up to the third floor, to see if they had any of the old phones or cameras with ordinary batteries on sale.
No luck, but the gentleman assistant or manager was polite to me, explaining they are no longer made. But recommended I try the London Exchange Store in Hockley. I thanked him and departed back down and out into the central mall.
Next port of call was Thornton’s shop, in search of the chocolate wine bottles, to get one for HRH Sister Jane. But, they only had a few to choose from this year. I opted for a Chocolate two-seater sports car, thinking it might bring back memories of Pete’s TR7 he had. The girl wrote the names and Happy Birthday on it, in white icing. I also bought them a name tag, but I can’t for the life of me, remember why now? Paid the lady, and went back out onto Parliament Street.
I walked painfully now, to the bus stop for the West Bridgford 5 or 7 route. The number seven was due in two minutes; Good bit of luck here, I thought. The bus pulled up behind one at the station, the first one pulled off, and as a lady and I approached the doors of the 5 bus, the driver deliberately looked away, closed the doors and pulled off! I got so angry, and swore at the top of my voice as it drove off into the distance! A naughty ‘B’ word; and that is so out of character for me. No problem getting the next bus, but this did not go anywhere near HRH Jane’s road, and meant my poor old feet and knees would have a long trudge when I got off of the bus to reach it! Fuming I was! The crush on the 40 bus, and now this! Humph! Crabs and Grobblenerds!
The walk from Central Avenue, where I’d alighted from the bus, was taken nice and gently. Not that Arthur Itis or Foot-ache Francis appreciated it. Part-way there, and Saccades Sandra joined in the hassling. And, I was still peeved about the treatment from the buses, and EE shop. Tsk! Yet, the rain had stopped, and the wind died down a lot. By the time I arrived at the Mansion, I had lost my tempestuousness.
The HRH’s gave me a warm welcome. Which at the time, I ungraciously did not acknowledge, but I was by then in great pain with the knees and feet in particular. As I got the carrier out with their pressies in, I asked Pete not to allow me to go home without my carrier of food. Slight lack of confidence there!)
But they soon cheered me up. They had graciously put a rag over a wooden chair for me to sit on. But, with travelling back on two more buses to come yet, Arthur Itis and Haemorrhoid Harold would not appreciate me sitting down to stiffen up the knees, and compress Harold’s piles, then getting up again and going through the same on each bus!
The Highnesses seemed happy enough to allow my standing up during the visit. Well, it saved any germs or dirt getting on the chair from my trousers!
They had just finished a gigantic jigsaw puzzle! A right whopper it was! I took this picture of it, but the camera battery died again.
Pete took the other photographs below, on his Galaxy mobile. I believe it is a Galaxy S10+Fold which has increased storage to 1TB. That operates as a normal smartphone until you open it, at which point it becomes a small tablet. A snip at £1514.50, they both have one. But, you can’t blame them, what with them having the lottery win, pools win, and being left a fortune by Pete’s unknown relative, they might as well live it up. No wonder Pete retired at 49. No jealousy from me, though. Oh, no! Hehe!
Jane gave me a pain killer. Pete’s Galaxy takes brilliant photos. Which he kindly sent to me through Email so I could use them. He said he’ll let me know the cost later.
As you can see by the photos of the chocolate car, the lettering didn’t last long. Pete mentioned later, “Women Drivers, huh!” From the evidence and Petes email, I’ve analysed a few possible reasons for this:
Her or His Highness, couldn’t resist the vanilla flavoured writing?
Her or His Highness, were discussing money and one threw the car at the other?
Her or His Highness rubbed out the others name, as they were discussing Brexit, Fox hunting or Overseas Investment Opportunities?
Her or His Highness thought it was shaving foam?
Her or His Highness had lost a piece of the jigsaw?
Hehehehe! I’m losing it here!
I was soon offered a cup of tea, which I had to decline, (Which seemed to cheer them up?) with the wee-wee situation being as delicate as it is. Much chinwagging was enjoyed, and I got all excited, and contentment nearly came over me! Sadly, I had to leave earlier than I would have liked (Which also seemed to bring a smile to their faces?).
In all earnestness, I felt sad at having to go. They told me of the bus times and which one to catch to town and walked me to the door.
I walked along the road, wobbling a bit with the trolley-walker now it was so much lighter now, crossed over the road and it dawned… I had left my bag of fooder behind after all! On my travel back to the palace, the mobile rang, it was Jane telling me I’d not taken the bag! Hehehe! They brought out the well-rooted-through carrier to me as I approached the main driveway. Smiling broadly, as I said; Pete, I’m sorry I bothered asking you to remind me about taking the bag. A laugh all round, and that parting giggling left me feeling in better spirits, even with the daunting task of using two buses was ahead of me. No wonder the walker-guide was lighter! Haha!
As I was about twenty yards from getting to the bus stop, the number 5 shot by! Yet another bus-related faux pas! I still had to travel on two more yet! My EQ warned me it was not over, however. Accepting the validity of EQ’s, made me calmer in a way, for so it will, and I knew there was nothing I could to change things. So it was just a matter of acquiescently pressing on. A MAinline bus arrived, which I knew would get me Friar Lane, but would it be in time now I’d missed the number five bus, for me to catch the L9 in town? Whatever, I was in a decent mood, because there was nothing I could to change fate, and realised it.
The side-saddle seat on this bus, unfortunately, had as big-a-danger of my falling out of, as the 40 bus earlier did! By the time I’d battles gravity and the Stirling Moss driver to keep seated, Arthur Itis was really annoyed. Getting up and off the bus was a real agonising struggle, which annoyed the passengers waiting to get on. Oh, dearie me!
Then I had the task of getting to Queen Street in time, left me about eight minutes before the L9 was due to leave. Six months ago, this would have been, easy-peasy, but not today. Every step was hurtful, as I tried to get up enough speed to get there. Every uneven paving stone seemed to trap or tip the front wheel of the walker-guide. I was struggling for breath and in discomfort, as I limped up Queen Street as fast as I could to the bus stop at the top. It was three minutes past the hour as I drew level with the door of the bus, due out at five-past – and believe it or not, this driver closed the door and pulled away! I could have cried. There I was, breathing in gasps, feet hurting, Arthur Itis in top giving Inchcock pain-issuing form, yet with a twinge of contentment lingering within? I’m probably going bonkers here!
Now, the 40 bus was 25 minutes to wait for. I hobbled down Queen Street to the slab square. I took a snap of the Council House, showing the clock above Little John’s bell. Amazed that the battery let me make the picture, and it came out decent? I’m confused about this, I hope the camera is not going wrong.
I got back up and caught the 40 bus. These side-saddle seats had a bar to hang onto, and it was much needed and used too! Not too many people on the bus this time, and it was easier for me to cling to the seat, even with Nigel Mansell driving and heavy on the brakes. I got off on Winchester Street, a kind chap monitored me getting off, in case any help was needed.
The walk up to the flats had never been more uncomfortable. Just the feet and Arthur Itis’s knees were bothering me but on a grand scale! Hehe! The mysteries of the camera! The dead battery, according to the message on the screen, it still let me take two more photographs on Chestnut Walk? The colouring was nothing like what it was to the naked eye, though.
I got in and walked through to the Woodthorpe Courts flats, and up to the apartment, without seeing a soul.
First thing, I got the camera on charging. Then back to the door to pick up the Anticoagulation, Haemostasis Deep-Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic’s INR and dosage letter. The INR level is nearly spot on this time, the dosages the same, two-every day, so that should easy to remember. My next blood-letting session will be on Tuesday 21st, giving me a week longer. I even felt the pain from the feet and knees when I was stood still reading the details. So, I took the medications next with an extra Codeine 30g. Then got the Truffle fries in the oven cooking.
I suddenly felt a little out of sync. The walking and getting battered about by bus passengers and let down by bus drivers I should think. But concentration was hard to come by.
I got the very-old camera out and fitted two new batteries. It took the shot of the meal when I’d got it done, but only after changing the batteries after each failed attempt, and there many of them. I got Change the batteries, or This card is incorrect’ messages each time I tried to use it, so gave up.
The meal was enjoyable, despite my feeling so weary and confused. The ready-made BLT sarnies, some sliced tomato ones I made up, and the Truffle chips. A yoghourt for afters.
I painfully rose and put the pots in the washing up bowl, and sat down in the recliner.
Just as the doorbells chimed out. Another damned uncomfortable getting and trip to the door. It was the set of brown T-shirts being delivered. I dropped them as the chap handed them over to me. He picked them up, I thanked him, and then dropped the walking stick! Again, he rescued me. I proffered my thanks again, and off he went quickly. Haha!
I opened the pack and had a quick check of them. They seemed okay to me, and felt as warm if not thicker than the expensive one I bought that cost twice as much to buy!
I left them where they were on the airer, and got down in the recliner again, to help ease Arthur Itis and Footache Francis and get some rest.
But wasn’t to be. The brain registered that if I do not get up again, and make notes now about what happened on my day out, I’ll never remember in the morning. So, wearily I got up and made some notes to use in doing this diary update. I even used red and black ink for each happening to mention.
Sleep? Not much chance of that I thought, as Dizzy Dennis came on.
So, I put the TV on, and that did the trick in no time! Zzz!
00:05hrs: I stirred, back in the regular needing the Porcelain Throne mode. Without delay, I cumbersomely removed the misshaped body, with odd-sized legs now, from the £300, second-hand, c1968, scarily putrid beige-coloured recliner, and grappled my way to the wet-room.
The now messy offending carpet!
Unfortunately, en route, I tripped on the curled up bit of carpet edging, lost my balance, and ended up on the floor, via the electric fireplace and the clothes dryer – and squashing the wooden walking stick in my rib-cage! But nonetheless, the need for the Porcelain Throne prevented any self-pity or rolling around in agony. The fear of an accidental release was too intense for me to mope! I rose like a right-hero (well I thought so), with the assistance of the solid recliner arm, and continued on my way for the evacuation.
A just-in-time job again. However, it went well this time. No bleeding from Inchies Fungal Lesion, and very few spots from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Plus it happened so quickly, there was little pain as well!
Mind you, the tumble had left me with a few aches and pains. Arthur Itis was not happy, and Anne Gyna joined in. A tiny bruise on the hand, (which looked more wrinkled and warped than usual?) The wrist ached, and the rib-cage feeling tender, were the only things that really bothered me. (The headache started later) Hehe!
I noticed after cleaning up, that the difference in the size of the legs, was more marked as well. They appeared really odd to me. And much paler than of late, but less pot-marked. I assume the odd mark above the knee was from the earlier Whoopsiedangleplop.
I returned to the front room and sorted the mess I’d made out. But couldn’t get down to level up the carpet. Partly, I think through fear of not getting back up again. When I went over, I had the trepidation then, helping me to rise from the floor. Fear of getting caught short! Ah, well!
I went and took some pictures of the moon before it got away in the clouds. I did them in Auto mode, as Tim recommended.
I checked on the t-shirt delivery day and found that the ETA had been changed to Thursday. Christ! After all that planning and rearranging, so I could get to visit HRH Sister Jane as well! Well-pissed-off with this! After some investigative site manipulations, I changed the delivery to three days and got away with it, so I changed the calendar. I hope they do not change it again! Swine!
m To the kitchen, and made the first brew of the day, Thompsons Punjana. Lovely! Imbibed the medications, and had another rubbing in of the gel session on the knees, ribs and lower back. Then to the computer to get the updating done of yesterday’s blog. Phwert! It took me many hours to get done! So many photographs to sort out, the Ocado order coming, so having to get the ablutions done earlier than usual, and any concentration I had, was all over the place. All combined to make it gone 0900hrs before I got the post finished! Thank heavens the nerve-end were not playing up to much this morning!
And the pathetic wee-wees kept disturbing me and my thought patterns. Gawd, I can’t remember ever needing so many, and they were all of the SHDTBS (Starting-Heavy-Duty-Torrential-But-Short) mode. Which on their own were tiring me out! Humph!
I had to stop doing the post, so I could get the ablutions done before the Ocado delivery came. The dropsies were not no worse than normal, only two little cuts shaving.
But the difference in the size of legs (I’ve got two you know? Haha!), was getting ridiculous now! Blimus!
I took another shot of them in case the first one had got warped somehow or other. The mark on the knee was a bit tender when I pressed it. So I suspect it is just a welt or bruise coming up.
I went to the kitchen again and made a mug of Glegettie Gold tea. Superb!
The intercom flashed. It was the Ocado delivery arriving. I dug out the carrier bags from the last delivery and took them to the door. The young put the bags inside the front door for me and said something I didn’t catch, he was off.
I said a thank you, but I don’t think he heard me properly.
I unloaded the carriers and put the stuff on the counter and serving tray, so I could check them against the email of what was delivered.
Well, doing this was a waste of time for sure!
When I got to the computer, no confirmation email had been sent to me! Oh! That wasn’t nice at all of Ocado!
How am I supposed to know if any substitution were made? Or if any product was on offer or not and I had been charged correctly?
Ah, well, I only use them when I need what I cannot get anywhere else anyway. Such as Glengettie and Glengettie Gold, as well as Thompsons Punjana tea bags.
So, back to the kitchen to put the things away. I found some things I cannot remember ordering? Like the Venison burgers? Something I had never had before or wanted to try really? But, knowing me when I get Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun moments, anything could have happened.
The King roasted cheese cashews nuts, must have been expensive? I’ll look up the price of them up on the web. Crickey, I paid £3.30 for 120g of them! How much does that make them for a pound? Never mind, I can’t work that out! But did the Sensory nerve-damaged fingers order them? I don’t think the brain did! Hahaha! No, I meant Soddit! Still, how much was Venison Burgers? Ah, they were half-price at £1.65, I could well have meant to get them then. I downloaded the well-hidden receipt, and found that the Chilli bean, Irish Butter and the smoked ham were all substitutions! Never again, will I trust Ocado; they can go on the list of (worst first) Tesco, Iceland, Ocado, Amazon and Morrisons as the most-rotten apples in the orchard of retailing!
I finally got the Monday blog finished and sent off. Phew!
9:10hrs, I had about the twentieth Wee-wee of the day, and the intercom burst forth again. It was the delectable, desirous, Nurse Christina arriving to take my blood. She also, helped me, by moving the carpet and getting rid of the bulge I fell over, for me. And also, rang the chiropodist and made an appointment for me. Bless her cotton socks and twinkling eyes! She had to rush off, which was sad, and yet understandable. Her assistance was invaluable. Thank you, Christina. ♥
I took a shot of the rainy view outside, from the open kitchen window as I made another brew, in between two successive wee-wees!
This can’t go on like this surely?
I got with beginning this blog off.
At about 13:50hrs, I got the stomach-cramps. Why I don’t know. But I was soon beyond working on the computer, as Saccades Sandra started playing me up, and the knees (Not Arthur Itis), the injuries from the fall, and tiredness dawned.
I felt like a gibbering wreck. Not too good at all, but I had to stay awake for the Amazon delivery, Oh, dearie me!
I did check the eta of the delivery for the t-shirt.
It was about 1400hrs now, and I couldn’t really start the meal cooking, and dare not put the TV on for fear of not hearing the intercom. So I turned off the computer, my concentration shot to pieces anyway. Then started some handwashing, and hoped it would arrive soon.
I went to check the bags ready to take to the waste chute later had not leaked and found the parcel with the t-shirt in it, had been squashed through the letterbox! I had only looked at the tracker minutes ago, so I got the computer back on and looked again, and it said delivered. ‘Posted Through letterbox’!
I opened the package. A most disappointing purchase, dead thin material, no wonder it said quick-drying on it. Tsk! Never mind.
Computer off again, a wee-wee, a wash, and I got around to checking out the venison burgers.
The oven was heated. The mushrooms in the crock-pot and peas and potatoes in the saucepan were turned down to low. I sprayed some oil on the oven dish tray and got the burgers warming up.
Another wee-wee, this time of the annoying SSP (Short-Sprinkly-Painful) type. I had wash next.
After keeping a careful eye on the foods, they came together cooked, and I got the feast onto the plate. Sliced tomato, new potatoes, garden peas, and mushrooms. The two wholemeal baps were a perfect size for me to eat the venison as beefburgers. I liberally dowsed the meal with caramelised onion chutney.
Everything went down well. These venison-burgers at half-price were worth it, but I wouldn’t pay full price for them. Even so, I ate it all up! Hehehe!
A flavour rating of 7/10 given.
I put the pots in the bowl to soak, then moved the handwashing on the airers.
I got down in the £300 second-hand c1968 recliner and had the worst ‘brain-thought-storm’ I’ve had for a long time. A rush, a mangled, disorientating mishmash, a gallimaufry of galling fears, worries, which left me with apprehensiveness and disquietude. And oddly, feeling worn-out and cherophobic?
Which may have unintentionally helped me, to get to sleep?
23:10hrs: I stirred in need of a wee-wee. The overweight heavily-stomached and aching all over for some reason body was reluctant to be prised away from the £300 second-hand rusty recliner. The toe still throbbed from last night’s double-stubbing!
I got to the wet room without too much hassle, all the same. I’d gone to the WC as opposed to using the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-wee-Bucket) because I was sure the need for a Porcelain Throne evacuation was imminent. For several mornings now, the urgent need had arisen with minutes of my escaping the clutches of the recliner, and each time I had been lucky to get to the wet room on time. (I felt rather smart and smug about this planning!) However, after the LRWS (Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) wee-wee was finished, the hands washed, Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding treated, and I’d got to the kitchen, and still no signs of my needing a heavy-duty session had arrived. Tsk!
But I had to return to the wet room in need of another wee-wee! This one of the ELPSOAO (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-All-Over) Mode.
The knees and legs looked a tad more colourful than of late. With the Clopidgrel lumps returning. But the blood papules and all veins were looking calm. I did have a new small purplish-blue blotch on the inner of the right leg that might turn into something that the Tate Gallery might be interested in as it develops? Haha!
Washed and creamed, medicated things, and back to make a brew and take the medications.
I got the computer on and checked the Google Diary for the next few day’s duties and appointment.
I must out today to get some bits of nosh in. No time over the next three days, I’ll be stuck indoors again. Well, two indoors, the third hopefully visiting Sister Jane at her Mansion. But don’t think I’m afraid of going there and getting told-off, tutted-at, and receiving down-the-nose looks with a curled lip, that could melt and disintegrate Tungsten, and my pockets picked by xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete. Well, nervous, perhaps!
As I was changing to WordPress to start the updating of the Sunday post:
I felt like crying, but instead, I inwardly vituperated to Mr Fries and cursed my accursed bad luck in moving from BT to Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet. Although looking back now, BT was about as bad as this shower is at providing a decent service! Mind you, Fries’ lot charge more!
I went to make another brew of tea and cleaned the pots I’m missed from doing last night. When I returned to the computer, at least it had a connection – albeit was still slow. My dislike for Mr Fries and Liberty-Global went down to Defcon 3.
I plodded relentlessly on with the updating. Other than a good few wee-wees, which were a variety of modes, length, pain, and splashbackabilities. Got the post finished eventually. When the top-priority demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived.
Off to the wet room, I made it in time enough, although it was still closer than I would have liked, for comfort. The passing went well, no bleeding and little mess and pain. The only thing worth mentioning was after the event, and a tad perplexing! The water in the WC, was bubbling, almost like in a geyser? One flush cleared the contents, and I could not help but stick my finger in the water, to assure myself it wasn’t actually hot! The bubbles continued for about another minute, then died down. I was in a state of puzzlement, mystification, and bewildered at what could have caused this violent bubbling in the first place? Another enigma of my beloved Nottingham City Homes, Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, producing illusion, delusion, & hallucinational activities! Hehehe! Mmm?
I struggled with the slow internet service, with the odd intermittent few seconds going downtime, and went on the WordPress Reader. Then the TFZer Facebooking.
By the time I had around top starting this page off, spend about an hour on it, with the regular wee-wees (I hope they ease-off before I go out later), is needed, I got around to thoughts of food, and what to have for brekkers. I decided on a mug of tea and some cornflakes, providing they had not gone all soggy (I’ve had them in for a while now!). I went to check them out.
Brekkers was corn flakes with a jam tart and mint bikkies with a mug of the very bestest brew, Glenghettie Gold. And it was so good!
Washing the dishes, and the summoning to the WC arrived, and I did the Ablutionalisatiioning at the same time.
Many dropsies were done. The toothbrush and paste were very active in their flying and slipping out of the hand today.
After the shave and shower, the sock glide battle victory went to the green plastic-covered metal frame, in particular to the finger-trapping holding gripper, known to me as Agripper the Hun! And at times like these, a few other choicest descriptive and curse-like words. (I shiver at the very thought of it!)
I got dressed and prepared the black and recycling bags to take down with me.
I got the shoes on and went to start the flat checks, taps, lights, etc. before leaving. As I went into the kitchen, I tripped on the raised door-stopper, and tumbled knees first onto the floor! After a few moments of annoying verbal responses, I struggled to bet back up, painfully onto my pins.
It turned out that the reason for the Whoppsie was that the velcro on the shoes, had stopped sticking altogether? I tried my best to get them to work without any success. So, into the bin, they were dispatched. After I applied dollops of Phorpain Gel, well rubbed in, I tried the other pair of shoes, but the velcro on them was not exactly reliable? What’s going on?
After the pains eased, I moved on and got the bags on the trolley.
As I was putting on the new coat, I spotted that the tear on the left-hand side of the tweed had got a lot worse! Oh, dear, getting wee’d-off now! I had to dig out the old but used only once flak-jacket type coat.I’d stopped wearing it after one try because it was too tight for me with the weight I put on after the stroke. Amazingly, it fitted? Ah, well!
I departed the flat and took the black bags to the waste-chute. Then down in the lift and took the recycling bag to Stew’s room.
As I went into the welcoming warmth of the link Corridor to Winwood Court, I spotted that the Fire and access door out to the alfresco benches was still ajar! It’s been a security risk like this for many weeks now, but nobody in authority seems to be interested or bothered about it?
I’ll mention it again to the ILC if I see one on the way out. I still have a yearning to get out there one day, on a bench, with my crossword book, pen, and a flask of tea and a bar of chocolate, perhaps. In the warm sunshine? What did I say? Sunshine? What’s that then? Hehehe!
I proceeded in an Easterly direction (hehe!) along the link corridor, towards the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinator’s), Wardens. Interrogation Office, hopefully, to remind them off the open external door, again. I could hear much laughter coming from the lady’s hairdresser salon that cheered me up a bit. I like it when folks are happy, a rarity nowadays. No luck in finding any ICL, so I went into the Winwood Court Social Area, and had a go at the crossword book puzzles.
As I plodded on to the Winchester Court lobby, I was most pleased with the lack of hassle from Arthur Itis, considering the tumble I took earlier.
I found a few tenants sat in there awaiting the bus. Doris, Cyndy, Margaret, May, and name unknown others were there. I handed around the nibbles and accepted the snide remarks, insults, put-downs, and the superior sarcasm from Frank in good spirit and kept walking around in case the knees froze up. As soon as I got outside to go to the bus stop, I realised that the cold, bitter, Winwood Heights wind was still with us. Brrr! I took a few photos while laughing with the ever-growing clan at the shelter.
Margaret and Cyndy at the Winchester Court entrance
Doris and Frank posed well for me! Thank you!
May (I think) and son in the shelter from the wind in the caretakers alcove.
Winwood Court - Winchester Court to the right
When we got on the bus, I settled in the corner side-saddle seat. Cyndy, Doris and Frank and a couple of other tenants sat nearby. We chatted en route, but a lot of what was said, I had to guess by the sayer’s facial expression. For the hearing aids seemed to be losing power occasionally? I got off last on Upper Parliament Street, the others scattered. The wind seemed less vicious in the City Centre.
I hobbled into the Victoria Shopping Centre (Mall), and straight to the Next shop, and got a voucher.
Then out back onto Parliament Street, and stood for a while, watching the Nottinghamian’s cross against the Don’t Walk sign. One pedestrian actually shouted and gestured at a driver as he turned from Milton Street!
I crossed over later and stopped to take this snap of the crowds in Clumber Street. The Nottinghamians appeared in a slightly better, less down-in-the-mouth mood today, and Pavement Cyclists were noticeable by their absence?
Also, Arthur Itis was still kind to me? Considering the force in which Arthur’s knees hit the kitchen floor, this is strange. Very Oddlimost! Ah, maybe the Phorpain gel for once, and the extra codeine might have helped?
I limped along, at a fair rate of knots, the three-wheel-guide was empty so easier to control. And I got to the Poundland World on Wheeler Gate and spent a fair bit of dosh. I ended up buying; Dettol disinfectant, a Pork Farms pork pie, a can of beef in gravy, sliced wholemeal rolls, steak slices, cooked chicken slices, almonds, cashews, Orange flavoured digestive bikkies and a lemon breeze spray disinfectant. The lady put them through for me within a couple of minutes, less her.
I got the things in the bags evenly weighted, and off through the square towards the bus stop.
The slab square was still being cleaned up after the Winter Wonderland. What a messy, untidy flop that was!
At the bottom of Queen and King Streets on my way up to the bus shelter, I spotted this chap in his mini-street cleaner, taking a rest and break. It looked like a new vehicle. I wonder if they sell them one at a time? I could use the recharging facility on Chestnut Walk? Just a thought. Hahaha!
I got up to the L9 bus stop. Not many folks around today? And none got on en route back to Winwood Heights. I fought against falling asleep all the way. But the driver helped me, by his imitating Nigel Manson with his driving. Thus, I had to stay awake to concentrate on not being tipped out of the seat on each corner!
Back on Chestnut Walk at the flats, I got off last as is usual. (This avoids me getting trampled on as I get off of the bus, Haha!) I stopped for a while to chinwag with Penny, and hand-over her belated New Year treat, only a little bottle of wine, but she liked it.
I walked back through Winchester into Winwood Court. I was going to try to tell Warden and Laptop dancer Deana, about the door still being insecure, open in fact, on the link passage. But they were very busy with people in the office, so I plodded on. I had a look at the door as I went by it, it was still open.
In the lift and up, out and into the flat. Where for some unknown, possibly weird, reason I decided that I’d get the handwashing done. So, it was done, rung and hung.
By the time I’d finish it, I was feeling well-drained and the usual afternoon confusion-of-the-brain was returning. Tsk! I moved the evenings clothing to the airers.
This started me thinking, my wee-weeing is a bit erratic innit? One day none stop, the next little at all?
I found a packet of the mushroom pate in the fridge and thought it would go nice in the wholemeal rolls.
Then I investigated in the freezer and found the chips I’d forgotten about having. They were called Truffle Fries and looked almost pale-green in colour when I opened the packet. It had bits of what looked like black pepper spread over them. And had a smell that I’ve never sniffed before to them. I was in two-minds (As usual, though!) about whether I should try them or not? I had a look at the ingredients list on the bag: Potatoes, sunflower oil, Black Truffle & Sea Salt, Dried parsley etc. I don’t even know what a truffle really is? I decided to try them out.
I and got them in the oven cooking, and set to making the roll sarnies. This is when I realised I’d forgot to get some tomatoes! Humph! So I put lashings of caramelised onion chutney, in the rolls with the mushroom pate!
Oh, boy, how I managed to keep my hands off of them I don’t know. The aroma of the pate was tempting me to eat them straight away. But, being a good boy, I resisted. Hah-ha!
The truffle fries didn’t look cooked after the 25 minutes recommended time in the oven, so I gave them long and kept having a look at them.
When it came to plating them, they smelt so different to anything I’ve cooked before and were still a tinge green looking. But, by golly, they tasted so good! Now, I have to remember where I got them from. Humph! They almost tasted like meat?
I found out the chips were bought from Iceland. So I must do an order for next week with some of the Truffle fries on in the morning!
I got the pots washed, took the evening medications and applied some gel on the knees.
Then, I just think I might have fallen asleep as I was actually getting into the recliner, cause I can’t remember anything after that?
Life gets very complicated with ageing. I know! Humph!
23:10hrs: I woke up with a jump, to find myself half-in, half-out of the £300, second-hand c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured rickety recliner. I had a bit of a job getting myself back safely into the dusty dust-covered chair. Confusion reigned in my bonce for a few seconds. I noticed signs of nocturnal-nibbling having taken place. Bits and pieces of nuts spread about generously?
Then, the brain kicked into gear, and the memory-box revealed a possible reason for my spreadeagled waking position; A dream I’d been having! It appears that I was on a flat-top roof somewhere, with a dirty great long pole with a paintbrush attached to the end of it, and a tin of red paint, and was decorating the sky! Mmm?
I wearily exited the recliner, grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, and hauled my heavily-stomached, flabby torso to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. When the morning summoning from the innards for the use of the Porcelain Throne arrived. And yet again, it was a sudden and urgent demand.
Before I got down properly on the raised plastic seat, things began moving! I felt this and got down the last few inches quickly to try to avoid any faux-pas… Unfortunately, an appendage got trapped against the plastic! Argh! My concentration drifted from the evacuation to the tiny-tender area affected, as the motion flowed unstoppably, under its own control.
When it finally decided to stop coming, I rose to inspect Little Inchy. Of course, the squash had started fungal lesion bleeding! So the first thing was some cleansing, then medicationalisationing with the Cortisone, then Savlon creams. (I barely flinched! Well, I might have a little bit!)
Then the Porcelain Throne bowl was looked at, the flushing had not moved much of the massive, messy, gooey evacuated product. Another twist of the handle, and still it was only partly gone. I moved the clock, radio and Men’s Eau-de-toilette bottle from the system top to remove the lid, and filled it by jugs of water from the sink until the tank was filled. Tried the flush, and all gone at last!
I foolishy allowed myself to get into a Smug-Mode, thinking how well I’d coped with the injury and sorting out the WC system. Putting the things back on top of the tank, and the autonomic nerves let me down again, and I dropped the clock from my grasp. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you, where it ended up landing? Great Jehosaphat! Please, not another Whoopsiedangleplop day like yesterday? I beg!
I wobbled back into the kitchen to make the brew again and took last nights medications that I had omitted to take. Tsk! Took the tea with me and got the computer going. Pressed on with updating the Saturday blog. Which surprisingly only took me about two hours to get done. The finger-ends were amazingly less bothersome, Shaking Shaun was noticeable by his absence of interest in punishing me, and Duodenal Donald didn’t give a single stab (yet) while I was doing the diary update! Something was going well? I tentatively, apprehensively allowed myself a few moments of Smugness.
Around 01:40hrs, I’d finished and posted off the blog. I put some pictures on Pinterest. Then went on the WordPress reader. Next, to my beloved TFZer Facebooking.
Off to make a brew. I took two shots of the moon. I used Auto mode for these.
Then, I checked the emails. I’d had one reply to my request for permission to visit her come in, from Sister Jane. She granted her permission. I plan to attend their mansion next Wednesday, hopefully, no medical appointments will come in for that day. But, I’m a little nervous about going, cause I cannot carry a stick with me, and she will not like me going in her spotlessly-hygienic palace with the three-wheeled trolley? Could get me in trouble this. Perhaps I can have a search for the old collapsable stick I had somewhere. Or did I give it away? Did I bring it from the old house with me? Confused Inchcock, now changing the subject! Hehe!
Oh, botherations and fiddlestick! I just noticed that Wednesday the Medicine team will be calling with the new medications alarm to be fitted, on Wednesday! Humph! I emailed her Majesty back to explain, and ash for Thursday to be alright. I may get hung drawn and quartered after having my testicles removed! Oh, dearie me!
I made a start on this post, as the wee-wees grew more frequent than ever. All of them were the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) variety.
I decided it was time for phagomania which had taken over my thoughts, to be appeased. So I hobbled to the kitchen to see what was to be had for brekkers. I made some wholemeal bread-thin sarnies with some turkey thingies on sticks.
Then I remembered I getting low on the Thompsons and Glengettie Gold tea bags, so I made an order for Ocado. I put all the changes on the Google Calendar. Then off to make another mug of tea and have yet another wee-wee.
Taking these pictures. The sky and down towards Chestnut Walk below. Noticing a free car parking space! Amazing!
Then I got back on the computer (not literally, you understand?), and checked to see if any comments had come in on the Saturday post. Two to reply to, which cheered me up a tad.
I tried to get some graphics done on CorelDraw, but the concentration was not good, yet earlier in the morning it was fairly good?
I managed to do a couple and had to stop, to get Josie’s meal prepared. If not too tired afterwards, I shall return later. (I was too tired after-all)
I got the meal done for Josie first. Tuna with mayonnaise added, sliced tomato, mushrooms, garden peas, roast onions, and her favourite, the soft mashed, extra-cheesy potatoes. An apple, a Limoncello dessert and a can of pink gin & tonic, for afters as an extra treat for my next-door neighbour Josie. As she mentioned last week about me giving her too much on the plate, I made the meal a little smaller for her this time.
For the first time ever, I was a little late in getting it delivered at the target time of twelve o’clock. With me feeling a little out-of-it suddenly, by the visit of Konrad Confusion, and not concentrating properly at all, I purposely took my time while cooking, to avoid any Faux pas or accidental-happening. Which meant it was 12:10hrs when I arrived at her door with the meal on the trolley-server for her. Josie is as forgetful as I am, and inadvertently lets it slip from her memory every Sunday, bless her. She was on the phone to her sister, and I waited until she answered the door. By then, all I had built up to say to her had gone. So I waffled something or other, and as I was saying I hope you enjoy it; Josie asked what the ball shaped thing on her plate was. (Ah, one of the things I’d forgotten to mention to her) I explained it was smoked Haddock and cheese in a breadcrumbed potato casing. I feared she might not like this, but and crossed my fingers as we parted, that she would.
I was feeling confused still when I got back into the apartment. Got some cheesy mash made for my nosh, and put that in the oven to crisp up a bit. Then washed the pots from the first meal-making session.
Then I got the Inchcock’s ingestible ingredients served upon the plate. Crispy cheesy potatoes, beetroot, mushrooms, peas, tomatoes and some delectable tasting Mushroom pate; which I put inside wholemeal bread thins to eat, with the pate, sliced tomatoes and caramelised onion in them, to give it an almost perfect twang!
Got the pans etc wash-up quickly, and settled in the £300, second-hand c1968, not working, rickety recliner, and feasted on the food! It was delightful, despite my not feeling-up-to-scratch. (I’ll have to remember to look up[ where that saying came from) A Flavour-Rating of 8/10 for this meal.
I looked at the TV Freeview schedule, to find if there was anything worth watching. There must be at least, well, over 200 Freeview channels on my old set. And there was nothing, apart from the Liverpool v Everton match, that I was interested in viewing. Plenty of repeats, some from the 1940s, others that had been shown three or four times already this week, that I’d seen. But no Red Dwarf, A-Team, or good films at all. The only stuff that I might have been tempted by was on too late for me to stay awake till.
I set the alarm to wake me in case I fell asleep, so’s not to miss the football match. (In case I fell asleep? Hahaha!) I put a Black Books DVD on and fell asleep within minutes.
I didn’t hear the alarm, but I did wake up in need of a wee-wee, about ten minutes into the football game. I did stay partly awake for the game, which Liverpool won, despite their young inexperienced team on the day.
I nodded off, and something woke me up, in my confused state, it took me a while to realise it was the door chimes. I got to the door eventually…
Having given myself a Double-Toe-Stubbing en route to the door! First, in my half-awake state, on the door-stop bar, and then on the flipping wheel of the Walker-Guide trolley in the hallway! My language was a touch on the naughty side, but luckily only muttered to myself. It was Josie, returning the cutlery, plate and serving tray. I thanked her and inquired if she liked the smoked haddock and cheese thingamabob, to my pleasant surprise, she said she did. I returned to the recliner, taking care not to have any toe-stubs en route.
Luckily again, I’d missed no goals in the match, and was able to watch the game until the end. Which is where I must have nodded-off, cause I can’t remember owt else.
02:45hrs: I stirred into an imitation-synthetic-pretend life, and wondered for a moment what the smell was I sensed. I realised it was the Eau-de-toilette spray that the nozzle had come free on, and I generously got over myself and the carpet a couple of days earlier. Why I should suddenly sniff it now, I don’t know?
As I was encouraging Arthur Itis to let me stand up, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I had to put up with Arthur’s agony to get top the wet room in time. (They’re getting more urgent every day, these evacuations?) But I made it in time. Then as things started automatically again, I thought they may never end! Just where it’s all coming from, beats me! Massive and messy, too!
I put the kettle on and decided to try and get a few shots of the moon while it was out of the clouds. As you can see below, I had to rush them a little. On the third effort, Shaking Shaun gave me a rattling just as I was clicking the camera. I couldn’t have produced this piece of abstract-artwork if I had tried to? Hehe!
Moon shot number one...
Took the medications, made the tea. As I was looking for the ear-dropper, I found notes for an ode I’d made long, long ago. I decided to get the updating done for the Friday diary, and then make-up and renew this unused poem.
Doing the diary, took me ages, as the autonomic nerves in the hand and fingers were playing up something awful. But did get on with amending and updating the Rhyme post. I made a header in CorelDraw: Befuddling Thoughts.
Pretty pleased with myself, I went into Smug-Mode, as the mobile tone chirped put, it was a Text Message. It came from Iceland, at first I thought they were going to cancel my order again. I went on the Email to have a look. Sent a message to Sister Jane while I was on there. Then found an Iceland message, which read (See right) re; Iceland’s famously inept and unsuitable substitutes. But, I shall make do with the no Pork Shoulder steaks, and accept the horrible oversweet, sickly Toffee yoghourt substitutes and hand the nm into the Winwood Court Social room kitchen, later on, at least the can be made use of. I hope someone here enjoys them.
I went to make another mug of tea. And took these shots of the morning partly red skyline. Red sky in the morning, ‘Shepherds warning’?
I got handwashing soaking in the sink. Then trundled of hobblingly to the wet-room to get the ablutions done. Not one of my more successful sessions. Number one, it was too early to use the shower, and I do enjoy showering so much. So a stand-up wash was needed. Not the most refreshing of things.
Taking off my jammy bottoms, was a little akin to a Bull-in-China-shop! Humph! I knocked the following, although it might have been more, but, I can recall that two cans of body spray, the kitchen towel, my scissors, the Germoloid and the Clobetasone cream, and the crossword book and pen, all tumbled off onto the floor. The pen went down the back of the cabinet, so will probably be found after I have snuffed it. I managed to retrieve the other stuff, much to the annoyance of Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis! Tsk!
I did the teeth, only dropping the brush and toothpaste once each. Then the nasal spray. Moved on to shaving, and the foam can went twice, and the razors repeatedly, so much so, that I decided to do flannel wash first, hoping the Peripheral Neuropathy would have calmed down a bit, and the nerve-end would be working a bit better by then. The flannel went a couple of times out of my grip, as did the carbolic soap.
When I got back to shaving, I have to say I felt a bit a Smug and Clever Mode come over me. For the dropsies had reduced tremendously as the nerve-ends were getting the message to the brain at last! I moved up to a Sycophantic-Smarmy-Mode! But this didn’t stop me getting a few tiny cuts. Then, the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle! Arthur Itis is particularly ‘Anti-Sock-Glide’ today! But at least I avoided any toe-stubbings and finger trappings! Yeehaa!
I dressed and went to get the handwashing finished. I got it done and wrung, but a problem when I started to get it hung! The flaming hangar that I use for the jammie-bottoms, shattered into pieces!
Of course, the wet freshly washed jammie trews fell on the floor I hoovered and mopped yesterday, and tipped the waste bin up over its way down! So had to be cleaned again! And believe me, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were not happy about this in the slightest! (I wasn’t exactly over the moon with it, myself!) There are times when life doesn’t seem to be going right – this, was one of them! Crabs and Grobblecraps! In fact, Double Crabs and Grobblecraps! I’m all Gumpy and irritable, now!
Shortly afterwards, the Iceland man cameth. I mentioned the substitutes and he told me, nothing to do with me, you should have an email, sort it with them, not me! I signed for the goods and he shot off like Mr Bolt, only quicker! Haha! It was plain to me, that Iceland was forever letting folk down, and some customers were blaming the delivery men?
I got the coat on, and took the black bags to the waste chute, on my way down to take the substituted toffee yoghourts to the Winwood kitchen. Once on the ground floor, I thought I’d take the canon camera out ready take few snaps en route to the kitchen through to Winwood Court. Sod-it! I’d left it up in the flat on charge! And, the fire door out to the alfresco benches in the corridor was wide open again! Great security for the old folks that! I’ve reported it three times this week!
I got to the kitchen room, and about nine people were sat having breakfast. I didn’t recognise any of the clan, but I threw them a merry-as-I-could-manage. “Good Morning each!” All I got back was looks that said. “Who’s he then?’ I handed the yoghourts in at the kitchen window and returned, depressed and miserable back to Woodthorpe Court.
As I went through from the warmth of Windwood Court into the bitterly cold Woodthorpe, a ladies voice called asking if I was alright, it was Chrissie (I think), with some bad news. Mo in the hospital had passed away. This put me in a right bad frame of mind, and I nearly had a cry for Mo, she was a right character, we all liked her so. Here’s the last photo I took of Mo. I’ll see if anyone is going to the funeral, I’d like to go. RIP Mo, loved you, gal! ♥
I got in the flat and did shed a few tears. Mo was not the sentimental sort, so I’ll try to remember her as she was on the day I took this photo, bless her.
I decided to get the things ready for the meal later. The first thing was to get the mushrooms in the slow cooker. I added some sea salt and a splash of the Sukang Puti vinegar. This Malaysian made brewed vinegar is so tangy. Mmm! I opened a can of potatoes and garden peas and put it in a saucepan ready.
This is where things went out-of-kilt for me again. What a pickle I got myself into! My depression as boosted straight away. Had I not had enough things go wrong already today?
I reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to get the plastic jar of demerara sugar to add some to the peas and spuds! Well, the myasthenia gravis and Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, perfectly to cause the maximum damage! The tub fell out of the insensitive hand, via the cabinet below and kettle, into the jug of water, and the container split open – the sugar poured out all over the place and water slashed on everything! Including the kettle workings.
I got the mess in the sink as fast as I could, but it was a pointless effort on my part!
Cleaning and sorting cost me an hours time, at least. But, for some unfathomable reason, I kept at it, and even failed to commit suicide! Haha!
I was down in the dumps, though. I half-heartedly updated this blog. Later, I tried to lighten it a bit.
I got the oven warming and when it heated enough, I put some smoked haddock and a battered whiting fillet in and watched over it cooking. I dare not keep an eye one it, after today’s series of mishaps. I carefully got the plate filled with feast-like foods, and when I got around to taking a photographicalisation of it, Shaking Shaun shunted into this Saturday’s shenanigans.
Not Dizzy Dennis, just Shaun. But that was enough, the mood he was in. By the time I got taken the tray of fodder into the front room, I found I had left a trail of garden peas, and the odd potato and slice of beetroot scattered behind me, on the floor! I put down the tray and got the picker-upperer to retrieve the dropsied food. (More cleaning and sorting to do! Depression can become habit-forming, yer know! Haha! Humph! By the time I got settled to consume the food, it was well not-warm! And yet, I ate it all, (not the retrieved bits, Hehe!) and found it tasty enough. Flavour rating worth 6.5/10.
I was too knackered to bother doing the pots, and just put them in the sink to soak. Returned to the £300 second-hand c1968 rickety recliner to rest, but sleep was not an option, the mind-blasting started. I did not want to go over losing Mo and other calamities of the day in my head again.
So, I put on the Steven Seagal – Mike Tyson ‘Tribal Warfare’ DVD. It was that bad, it actually helped me escape the brain’s mind-blasting. Yet Shaking Shaun was still with me after I cut short the film, and had to rise for a wee-wee, a near disaster was averted by me going to the wet room, for Shaun was shaking just about everything, including Little Inchy.
Thank heavens for having the wet room, and the shower to clean up the sprayed all over the place evacuation, and the clean pair of trews to exchange with the old, er… now-wetter ones! Which I put in disinfectant and liquid soapflakes to soak in the bucket overnight.
Back to the recliner, a shattered, depressed, welmish, tired and monumentally pissed-off old Nottinghamian, in search of peace of mind, a reduction in Whoopsiedangleplopalisation, and some sleep. Please!
23:00hrs: I woke, almost disappointed in not wanting to use the Porcelain Throne, but a demand for a wee-wee arrived, that forced me to reluctantly for once, remove my bulbous, wobbly-short plump-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were both giving me a break. I hobbled to the wet room, and found myself quietly singing on the way?
The release was of a totally new mode, to me. It started so promisingly as well! An FDBFF (Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style. (Which all the others, so-many, that followed were of the same fashion- I shan’t bother recording them, there were countless, and irritated Little Inchies fungal lesion as well! It’ll save on ink and time. Haha!)
I poddled to the kitchen and made a brew. Took the medications. Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, and Clopidogrel ketoconazole applied where needed.
Then, I olive-oiled the ear-holes. The right one was bleeding for some unknown reason, just a smidge. Probably I scratched at it in my nocturnal dreaming. For while I was tackling the Sock-Glide, a bit of the dream came back to mind. Something was trying to crawl into my ear canal, but it was too large to get in. I was on a wet grass riverbank, with Canada Geese all around me, and it was belting down with rain, and that’s about all I recall about it? This bit of musing, most likely helped me in a way, cause suddenly I’d got both socks on, without any bits of my fingers missing, blood welts, dropsies or stubbed toes! Oh, Yes!
I set about de-coking the hearing-aids and replacing the batteries. Which involved creating yet another Whoopsiedangleplop, but of sheer quality – in a weird way. I dropped (as was to be expected, really) one of the hearing-aid batteries, which disappeared altogether. Got another one out, and lost that one too! But, I spotted it rolling out into the hallway. There is a raised door stop that it bounced over, it hit the door frame and rebounded back into the kitchen, ran around the stack of drawers, hit the sink cabinet and went back and settled under the drawers!
I fetched the better picker-upper, got down on the knees (at this point Arthur Itis rebelled at such idiocy, and started to give me, and still is, some gip!) I managed to get the picker-upperer under the cabinet. However, I could not see beneath it. Blindly pulled it back out sideways. Out came, along with some dust and debris, one well out-of-date Duracell AAA battery, and… wait for it… ‘Two hearing aid batteries!’ Hahaha! I would have laughed then, but I still had the problem of getting back on my feet to tackle.
Fortunately, the sink is just the right height and width for me to grab onto. With a monumental effort and Arthur Itis’s agony in both knees, I painfully persisted, and progressed my person up, and into a perpendicular position! Yeehaa!
Mind you, I needed a few minutes to get over it! I took an extra Codeine 30g pain-killer.
I spotted the, to me, fantastic view out of the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window. So I took a picture with the Nikon camera, in Nightime Panorama mode, and have put it here in a larger view, cause I liked it for once. Especially as I took pains to get it right, well, in a way… I cracked my knee on the heater as I leant out of the window to take the shot. Arthur Itis is even more pissed-off with me now! Humph!
Got the aids cleaned and going well again, and returned, slowly and carefully, to the computer to make a much-belated start to the updating process. Just bending the knee to sit down was unpleasant, to say the least!
The updating in itself was alright, but new folders were needed to be made for these 2020 shots, in Pinterest and Facebook afterwards. This took me so many more hours into the day. And having to get up so often for a wee-wee, was making me irritable. Well, the pain in the knees did each time. Grumph!
I made a brew and moved the handwashing onto the airer.
At least Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were in a decent mood with me this morning. Not that Arthur Itis is too bad now… no that’s a fib. He’s cruel and bitter with me! Hehehe!
Summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards, and off I trotted to the wet room. The amount evacuated was again ginormous, yet the system coped with it, well almost. There were some unrecognised bits still floating in the water after flushing. What it was, I know not, but it was a little concerning all the same.
I was about to put the camera away after taking the shot of the WC above. But, could I find the lens cover to put back on it? No! Well, not for ages anyway. I searched back in the computer room, no luck there. Had a look in the kitchen, nope! Back in the wet room, couldn’t find it, so I took the snaps of the pins (legs). Then as I was leaving the room. there they were, in plain view all the time on top of a loo roll! My sanity is coming into question, this is the third time its happened this new year, already! The pins had gone even more anaemic! The veins looked like they were about to erupt again. I took a snap of the kitchen window view as the blue hue took over the skies.
I went on the WordPress reader. Then went on my beloved TFZer Facebooking site. Taking a lot of time to get the photographs on, with these also needing new albums creating.
I moved the handwashing around on the airer. By gum, I’m a good lad!
Tired as I was, the templates still need making up. So, I made a start on them in CorelDraw. I got two finished, and got some beef, black beans, tomatoes, and gungo beans in the saucepan, and added some balsamic vinegar, salt, tomato puree, basil and beef seasoning. It doesn’t much, but when it was stirred well, it tasted pretty good. So I must get the other graphics done, and remember to keep going to stir the pan.
Which I did, and eventually got the other two days graphicalisations done.
Totally shattered now. Turned off the computer and had a look at what was on offer on the TV. Channel 63 looks interesting if I can get in on my set.
Got the nosh prepped. Beef in the pan with caramelised gravy, rosemary and basil, tomatoes and puree, balsamic vinegar, black beans, carrots, onions, gungo beans and all on the simmer for yonks.
Timer set, to remind me to put the baguette in the oven in time for everything to be ready at the same time.
Got it served up in the dish. I thought I’d better get the saucepan cleaned first, as it was in a right sticky, messy state. So, I did.
Then got it served on the tray, took it and sat in the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and ate it while watching the TV version of Quatermass 2 on a DVD. All six episodes, and without nodding off, well, maybe the odd one. A lemon mousse for afters. I was most delighted with the flavour and gave it a rating of 8/10.
When the DVD had ended, I got the pots washed, thought about doing the handwashing, but chickened out, took the medications, and returned to the grungily-beige-coloured recliner.
The mind-blasting started. All past and present failures, mistakes, wrong choices made, fears, hatreds and jealousies mingled together, tormenting my already weak mind and apatheticness to sink even further. It felt like it lasted for hours and hours, with no pardons, forgiveness, corrective thoughts or ideas, and self-denigration flourished.
I assume I got to sleep eventually because I woke up later. Hehe!
Folks born in January:They age backwards and are the liveliest people to be around as they get older and older. So many of them live to be 100!
Happy Birthdays for Sister Jane and xyrophobia-suffering hubby Pete.
