01:30hrs: I woke gently this morning for once. I lay in the same distorted, wonky position I woke-up in and pondered: will I be up to making the meal for Josie? ‘Yes, I feel better than last night!’ Aha, a positive answer to myself! That was a good start!
Then, of course, the negative prospective-aspects of what perhaps lies ahead came to mind. (It’s my lack of confidence, and track record of Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, that take over the mind, you know!) I mentally planned my tactics, of how best to tackle getting the elephantine body on its feet!
As I moved my mass of a blubbering, over-stomached body into a position ready for clambering out of the recliner, I became aware that I may just have been doing some nocturnal-nibbling? The nuts fell out of the folds of my dangling, over-proportioned midriff! Guilty-Mode-Adopted!
I was most delighted with my success in rising to my feet, with a certain positiveness and lack of accifauxpas or injury. An inner smile began, I should have been warned when this happens! I rose and supported a dollop of fat, that was my torso, as I caught my balance… at that moment, the need for a wee-wee arose, so without doing the one-minute balancing exercise as I usually do, I made for the nearby NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).
The swivel chairs metal legs were attacked my left foots big toe – Yes, a Toe-Stubbing! But not a common or garden one this time, oh, no! Because I can’t get my toe-nails cut, the toe actually stuck my the mail, in the chair leg corner where the metal joins with the plastic! I now have an artistically bent big toenail. It was a bit of a farce, but I got it freed, by then I’d got SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), CCP (Cartilage Cathy’s Patella), and BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) all kicking off, due to the bending I’d done! I’ll see if I can get a decent photo of the toe later when I do the ablutions!
Getting sorted and to the bucket so late, I was caught out by the PMD Pre Micturition Dribble, then the actual wee-wee was so long in ending, I had the AMD After Micturitional Dribble to contend with! I had to hobble to the wet room, wash, change into new PPs, and hope the deodorant I used worked! This was not a good start to the day!
I got the kettle on and did the Health Checks. The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer, gave a good body temperature out, a decent again, same for the third day on the trot, in the green, 36.7°c. Well, at least one things gone right up to now. Hahaha!
The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer then showed up with slightly better readings than yesterday. SYS at 159. SIA 81, and the pulse had gone down to 84. Blimey, two things have gone, alright! It’s worrying this is, you know. I’m bound to pay for it!
I got the computer on and cracked away at updating the Saturday blog. Which took far longer than it should have, due to the presence of Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS and now they have been joined by Colin Cramps. (A rarity during the morning, he usually and regularly has a bash at me in the evenings?) Things seemed to be getting back to the normal, now – Harrassfull and Annoyingly bothersome!
Not that it bothers me, of course. I’m used to such calamities, pain, failures, embarrassments and the like. I never sulk or feel sorry for myself. Oh, no!
03:45hrs: Finally, after around two-and-a-half hours, so many wee-wees I couldn’t guess at how many, corrections made on the blog, and now, Anne Gyna has joined in with the other ailments, the stomach rumbling and grumbling, that promises a battle against the pain and possibly a victory for Trotsky Terence today, when (if), I do get to the porcelain throne, I got the updating finished! Bit of a mouthful there, sorry!
I posted it off to WordPress. Pinterested a couple of photos, and sent off the Email link. Then caught up on Facebooking. Made a brew of Glengettie, and took the medications, and made up the evening dosages. And made a start on this blog.
The weak wee-weeing was worse than yesterday, and it was time to empty the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). Let’s take it as such, I’ll try not to mention them again.
After a few hours at it, I was beginning to feel cold, so I bravely tackled the… wait for it… the SOCK GLIDE, to get some diabetic-hosiery on to keep me warmer, using the green-beast for the first time in months!
So long had passed since my last being injured with the glide, that I had foolishly part-forgot about why I stopped using the near-human android-like damned thing. Not only is it dangerous, but to me, it’s a simulacrum, almost alive, and vindictive! The lurking adiaphorous nature of it! I swear I saw it smile when it trapped my finger this morning! Of course, this could be due to my losing control of myself, en route to my eventual complete insanity? Maybe also my powers of reasoning, comprehension, logicality and lucidness? Or summat else.
I thought that my tackling this previously blood-letting, bruise-giving, subungual hematoma causing, finger-trapping, vicious green-coloured sock glide, without a helmet, goggles or any leather gloves on, was a heroic thing to do. Mind you, I don’t have any helmet, goggles or leather gloves!
I bravely gritted my teeth and got the first sock on the gripper – as instructed, I then sat down on the bog, and pulled up the frame, causing pain once again. In fact, it caused BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) to kick-off! I got the job completed, the got the second sock, had to stand up again to get the wear in the gripper… it didn’t go too well!
Not too much blood loss, I expect the bruising will no doubt go down again soon. I got back down, and pulled the sock and frame up and on the leg, getting the gripper to release this time, did cause a bit more bleeding than the first time, from the same gash in my finger. I also dropped the damned glide, it didn’t hurt my already stubbed-this-morning toe that it landed on, too much.
Alright, it hurt like buggery! The finger is still stinging, and the poor stubbed and crushed toe, will never be the same again! Hargledunks!
Taking this photo with the socks on, makes the leg look almost normal, dunnit? Hehehe!
No papules, subungual hematoma, Clopidogrel Clive lumps, the deep vein thrombosis growths, and the ankle ulcer is hidden from view! Only the spider veins and Cartilage Cathy’s affected patella show signs of anything abnormal. Mind you, under the lovely warm sock, it’s a terrible sight! Hahaha!
But I fear not the thought of taking the socks off later, it’ll be a piece of cake for me. (Who am I kidding!) To be honest, after the sock-glide grapple, I felt exhausted. I got the finger ointmentated and took an extra Codeine. The toe can wait until I do the ablutions, there is no way I’m taking off the socks before then. There wouldn’t be a need if I could find what I’ve done with my slippers!
I stopped to make another brew and went on the WordPress Reader section. Some brekkers methinks, pot noodle will do, and another Glengettie brew.
Then, the ablutions had to be tackled. Much later than usual, so I could get caught up with the blogging, before getting Josies’ cheesy potato meal ready. Off to the wet room.
Gordon Bennett! What a good stand-up session that was!
The teeth cleaning was painless, only one dropsy! The shaving, went fair enough, a good few dropsies, but no bother now I keep the short picker-upperer in the wet room! The rear-end cleaning got a complaint from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) as I twisted to reach certain areas. Only the medicationalisationing was below par. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered worst. Cartilage Cathy’s patella was a close second, and throughout the morning, I’ve been having Colin Cramps visit the left-hand fingers and hand, just as yesterday, but a tad more severe. So I dolloped plenty of the Phorpain gel on things and rubbed it well in. It didn’t make a blind bit of difference, of course. Cribblebogangonies!
I was a tad concerned over no movement from the rear end yet, Porcelain-Throne-wise? Mmm!
Oh, I found this photo on the card later, it looks like the belt on the trews? I can’t remember taking it, or why if I did.
I got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung on the hangers to drip-dry above the sink. I made a bit of a mess that called for the floor and sink to be dried up as well. Hump and Thunderglobberisations!
I then turned my attention’s to tackling getting the Sunday cheesy-potato lunch made for neighbour Josie. And got it ready just in time to be delivered on time, at midday! (I felt a bit proud of ding that! Mind you, there was one heck of a mess to be cleaned up afterwards.
Go the facemask on, and delivered it to her door. I’d forgotten to take the camera with me again, and nipped back to fetch it.
When I got to the door, Josie had opened the door and let me take a picture of her holding the meal tray. She beat a hasty retreat because she was on the phone with her sister at the time. Which is a shame, because she’s not going to get her meal while it’s hot. But no complaints from me. The gal forgets things, like me making her a meal every Sunday and delivering it as near to 12 o’clock as I can. However, I am just as bad at forgetting things, so do not get all het-up about it. Hehehe! I hope she can finish her phone call, while it is still eatable, and doesn’t have to reheat it.
I got back and did the cleaning up from the cooking, and got myself back on the computer.
I found some updated details of the UK figures, on the BBC News site. A bit scary, to see that 21,502 new cases were recorded yesterday! Oh, dear!
I had a search for the Nottingham figures.
I saw this article about the ‘Freedom Rally’ in Nottingham. With so many people working hard to help victims, I find this amazing!
I got the nosh started, and served up.
Beef pasties, tomatoes, Marmite cheese, garden peas, red grapes, and potatoes. A lemon curd yoghourt to follow. I consumed it all slowly. I even had a bag of Frazzles and some nut afterwards!
I had hoped to watch the Peter Sellers ‘The Pink Panther Strikes Again’, and indeed did stay awake for about ten minutes or so, and nodded off at the first commercial break. I woke several times, but only for a minute or so, and drifted off again. I woke up with a start as the end credits were rolling, with the guts in turmoil!
I feared that with me not utilising the Porcelain Throne today, a storm was brewing, of mammoth-proportions from within. I lay waiting for signs of any movement indicative of needing the Throne, that may be in the offing. Despite all the churning and, macerating, noting moved. Which meant I lay there waiting for an eruption than never came. Tsk!
Ah well, no problem, eventually I nodded off once more.
TFZer Keith solves his accommodation problem. Hehe!
I hope the Harold Shipman-admiring apothecarist will be investigated when I snuff-it? Hehe! (Details below, dang, dang, dang… Dang!)
Sunday 6th December 2020
Dutch: Zondag 6 December 2020
01:15hrs: I stirred, shuffled, and a blasting emission from the read end that set Harolds Haemorrhoids stinging convinced me to escape out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. I caught my balance and limped to the wet room and the awaiting the Porcelain Throne.
But regrettably, things didn’t go well at all in there this morning! I was in plenty of time and seated my rhinoceros but wobbly -shaped body down, and in anticipation of a long session, like yesterday’s, I grabbed the crossword book, like yesterday. I wasn’t disappointed!
Trotsky Terence was again thrashed by Constipation Konrad in the PTDDS (Porcelain Throne Daily Domination Stakes). The pain grew worse as things kept starting and stopping mid-stream several times. When the evacuation finally and blissfully stopped, there lied a rock-solid light grey torpedo, steaming and proudly ticking-up out of the water, fin end up! Gawd, what a relief! How in hell, that monster was cleared with one flush, I’ll never know?
I washed and cleaned up, ointmentated the delicate regions, and as I was leaving, I spotted the mildew killer that I’d sprayed on the bad spots of the floor yesterday. It looked to me like by forgetting to go back and rinse it away, I may end up with the floor looking worse than if I’d not meddled with it in the first place. (My life has been a little like that, not to mention the errors, bad choices, and… I’d better stop, there are too many woebegone, voodooed, hapless, Jonah-like and ill-fated things to mention. Haha!)
I got the Health Checks done, Sys still high.
And the body temperature was once again very fair indeed!
I got the new packs of medications out of the prescription bag, putting them with the Enoxaparin and yellow-dirty bin on the fairer, and made a brew of Glengettie.
I took a moody shot of the view from the unwanted, disliked, impossible to get cleaned, kitchen windows. I tried to get the Christmas light in it, and the street lights that gave me the impression, that I’d soon see the Three-Wise-Men coming into view. Hahaha!
Unbelievable!
Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, were playing with me again. I cannot win with them! Fair enough, they were kind enough to deliver this month’s prescriptions and sent a beautiful young lady to deliver them… but they never fail to take the piss, short deliver, send the wrong amount of medications etc. but this time…
They sent to packs of pods, without any seals of them! When I opened the first one, without my realising, (they are always transparent)
The pills and capsule bounded, shot and flew out all over the place! Some ending up on the floor, I found others on the recliner, others on the floor! Two in the hallway, two in waste bin! I ended up painfully bending on my knees to gather up as many as I could, but there were and still are five absentees that escaped and hid somewhere they are not to be found!
Getting back up, I hit my shoulder on the doorframe as I pulled myself up, and now the previously today, well-tempered SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) is giving me some mild agony! Flibblegonknackles!
Glunglegnatsworth Then, I had the impossible task of sorting the tablets out to get back in the pods! I had to end up guessing which was which, and some of the escapees were never found. The photo here is one of each of the three medications, you can see how hard it is to identify them. Glunglegnatsworthy!
I ended up having to use the old pods from when I made my own up, but it wasn’t easy. I dropped a few tablets with the shaking right hand (Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters) and even more were lost, or rather couldn’t be found. So through no fault of my own, I’m going to be short of medications again! That is if I don’t kill myself first by taking the wrong medications?. Granglesknackersbuggerit!
I lost hours, thank you to, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.
I’ve no confidence in my having got any of the medication pots right. Gumph!
At long last, I get on the computer to update yesterday’s blog. A mixture of anger, hatred, frustration and fear slowed me up, oh, and Nicodemus didn’t help.
A second-summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. With a sort of panicky-dread, I got the wetroom and found that exactly (almost) the same type of evacuation was suffered, as the first one! But the whole thing was over so much quicker this time.
I was getting a smidge depressed now, I could still not believe what the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub and Lidls had done to me! Concentration and coping with SSS was getting me down.
I decided to get some belated breakfast. I pot noodle with added gravy, and the last three slices of bread thins. Nae matter, I’ve got some part-baked baguettes to use. I must get a food order done later on.
I’d try Morrisons, but am not prepared to take their substitutes, the smaller Protection Pants they subbed, could have been returned I suppose, but would the driver wait for me to try a pair on, the accept them back having opened the pack? I think not. I dare not risk getting AAA batteries in place of toothpaste again! It’ll have to be Sainsbury’s then. They are not any better substitutors, though. Instead of bread, they subbed pikelets last time! My own thoughts are winding me up now! Skullclogglebonks!
Time to get Josie’s meal cooked and served soon, I’d better get the ablutions sorted. The session went well. Too well, it was worrying, in fact. A grand total of only seven dropsies (Oh, Yes!), no, I say NO shaving cuts, no dizzies, no knocking anything over, toe-stubbing or walking into anything! Just when I was feeling down and sorry for myself (Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA), this happens, and I bounce down to depression Defcon Three! Hahaha! One thing though, as I anticipated, mt leaving the scourer on the floor overnight, has made it look worse than ever now. Tsk! Always summat int there?
I got the handwashing sone, rung and hung. Almost forgot about Josie’s nosh, guilt-mode adopted!
I pressed on keeping my eye on the clock. No much coking in this feast for the gal, fresh tomatoes, last of the pickled eggs, cooked beetroot, Mackerel in BBQ sauce, and my world-famous cheesy potatoes… well, Josie, Jane and Pete like them?
A few minutes before midday, at the time the Madam likes her Chef to deliver the Sunday meal, I arrived at Josie’s front door and rang the bells (well, I thought it was a good idea, yer, see). I handed Josie the tray of fodder, with the Rum & Coke drinky, and Limoncello dessert. We had a short natter, and I took this photographicalisation of Josie and her tray. The gal seemed happy enough with it, bless her.
I set to washing up the cooking pots and pans. During which, I knocked a measuring jug and funnel off of the draining board. I thought it rather funny, finding a missing potatoes letter from yesterdays Accifauxpas when I got down to retrieve the jug. The letter Y, why I asked myself. Hehehe!
Then, reaching down near the cooker for the funnel, I came across a diamond-hard pea! So long since I had any fresh garden peas? Giggle! Shows there is hope for maybe finding some of the missing tablets, yet?
Took the photo of the end car park at the side of the flats. Oddly, all the vehicles in view were either red or black. The Mafia, and the FBI, came to mind?
Note the new Balcony pods? Well, they are not new now, are they?
Back on the updating of this blog. Hours flashed by, as did the getting my head down, thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453.
For some reason, possibly Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, I was not really hungry now. Humph! But this soon changed after Roger Reflux started working, and had rid itself of a symphony of wind. So, I got on with the Chilli Con Carne and meatball nosh.
I soon had it digested. Tasty enough too. A Flavour-Rating of 7.5/10.
Then took the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, collated, dispensed, and inspired, “Risk-Yer-Life’, ‘Take Pot-Luck’, ‘Cross Yer Fingers’, medications.
Got down to get some kip, which arrived quickly, but did not last long. I woke up at midnight, sickenly with a jolt, that put a ban and the mockers, on getting back to sleep. Humph!
I’m sending wishes through the ether, that this will happen! ♥
Sunday 29th November 2020
Sunday 29th November 2020
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01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a narcoleptic? Why I ask? I’m still waiting for an answer. Hehehe!
The mind seemed to be more responsive as well, the thoughts seemed more apparent when I talked to myself. A degree of uncustomary determination lingered as well; The Sainsbury order is due early today, Josie’s meal needs preparing and delivering, and I recalled that I’d put the new tube of Germoloid in the wet room.
I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.
So, I removed my overly-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, dirty, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and up onto the feet to catch my balance. And this, usually a struggle at times, even causing Accifauxpas, was done with fantastic ease! Grabbed Metal-Micky, and was so glad I did, cause, en route to the kitchen, I had a bit of a wobbly, had I not got the stick, I could easily have gone over. I put the kettle on.
Musing over what a mixed start to the day it’d been so far, and I’d only been up for a few minutes? It was foggy outside, and it looked so cold with it, I decided against taking any open window photographs. Made the brew, and back to the ottoman get the Health Checks done, all in auto-mode.
The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. The thermometer showed a lower temperature too, at 36.1°c.
My aboulomania flourished, as I thought about what to do about the missed medications. I took the evening ones as I did yesterday, and must remember to take the morning ones later on.
Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine?
Instead of getting on with the computerisationing as I always do after the balance, and health checks and medication taking: Amazingly, I got the dark blue zip-up jerkin hand-washed? All done, wrung and hung on the coathanger to dry, but why?
Got the computer on, and instead of cracking on with the IT diary updating, I went on Facebook updating?
Finally, I went onto the updating of the Diary. A long job, but as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades-Sandra were all in a good mood with me, I got it completed reasonably quickly. (This was worrying – something going right!)
Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, off to the wet room. The daily battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad was a massive defeat for Konrad, 4-0. Talk about yucky, a monstrous, messy, mass, manoeuvred into the bowl. A lot of effort needed to clean things furniture-wise and bodily followed—a good wash around, and back to the Computer.
Posted the diary off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and Pinterested a few snaps from the post. Then made a start on this template.
Around 06:00hrs, I heard a shuddering clunk, it sounded like it was from close-by. I had a poddle around in my bestest Sherlock Holmesian style, but could not find what it was that caused it? I hope no one has had a fall above me.
I started this writing for a while but had to stop. The ablutions needed doing, so I would be all prepared in time, in the case of the Sainsbury order arriving on the button at eight o’clock.
Back in a bit… I hope!
I’m back! I got sidetracked again going to get the ablutions done. I went hand-washing mad again. (No, I don’t know why either, it must be the bang on the head? Hehehe!)
I have to say, although it was a stand-up wash and shave, it went tremendously well. No teeth problems, only one cut shaving, only two items knocked off of the cabinet and no more than ten dropsies in total. More good fortune! (Even more worrying, especially with the Sainsbury order coming, overcharging and bad subs will almost certainly come with the food? – My EQ has just warned me!)
As I was getting staggering around getting dressed, and putting on a slipper, a sharp pain was felt underfoot! The sort you get when you stand on something sharp, or a shard of glass. It was hard-work, painful, plaguy and galling, taking a photo of the wound. The Robert Morley like stomach tended to get in the way, Haha! I think it was a new papule coming up. Gawd it didn’t half sting when I put the foot down.
Sorry about the photo coming out in mono. Yet another mysterious wonder of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their Satanic mission, to hinder, scare, blight, embarrass, manacle, and throw a spanner in Inchcocks works, plans, hopes, and confidence! Which they succeeded in, but they usually do!
I took some photographs from the unliked kitchenette window. The fog (when writing this six hours or so later) only got thicker as the day went on. Oh, dear!
Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe!
Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on.
Incidentally, the wee-wees were few and far between today. I just thought I’d mention it like.
Moments later, the intercom rang out and lit up. T’was the Sainsbury order arriving. The driver’s first words were; “Sainsbury order, are you coming down to pick the stuff up?” I gave an “Oh… well, I’ll have to, I suppose!” I farted about getting a mask on, and the intercom went again. The driver asked if we had a lift. I said yes, and he said he’d bring the stuff up then. Thank heavens for that!
He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.
Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been substituted with smaller-size ones!
Plus, they were different from each other? I’d ordered two large size packets, but these were both medium-sized ones.
Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not!
Then there was the lamentable, regrettable, disappointing, ill-advised, and stupid replacement for the delicious Potato cakes, Pikelets! Humph!
JS Pikelets, the only similarity being that they both have six items in the packet! I’d have thought the clue, ‘Potato’ might have prevented such an idiotic, inane, imbecilic, exasperating substitution, but no! (I think J Sainsbury and Morrisons are competing to get the annual, SSOTY (Stupidest-Substitution-of-the Year award). From my experience, it is a draw at the moment. They could have subbed with Irish Potato Farls, surely?
Thank heavens I ticked the ‘No Substitution’ option for the toothpaste, else I may have had a jar of pickled walnuts delivered, as well!
The Milk Roll loaf had one days life on it! Oh, and plain digestive biscuits came covered in chocolate. But I’m not complaining about that, there is a chance or even likelihood, that I ordered the wrong one, so fair do’s on that score.
Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles!
I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.
The only thing that pleased me was that they had sent the cheapo (60p) Chilli-Con-Carne, (Morrisons had substituted their (59p) one, with £2.58 substitutes!)
So, now I have a good stock of CCC in the kitchen, not the cupboard, that is already full. Hehehe!
Also, the can of Fray Bento’s meatballs in Chilli sauce, that can now be added to a tin that Hubbard’s (Sainsbury own label) Chilli Con Carne, making an easy peasy meal one day soon?
I’ll not starve for a bit, anyway. I may have a heart attack or another stroke, but still, it’s summat to look forward to – the Chilli, not the snuffing it! Glad I cleared that up!
I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.
Then sorted the unwanted good from J Sainsbury’s crap substitutes and my possible (I think it was!) error on the chocolate biscuits I shouldn’t eat. Ahem! To take them down to Jenny’s, with some treats for Nora and Frank of the alcoholic variety. Hehe!
Of I poddled down in the lift to deliver the unwanted crap substitutes from J Sainsbury’s to Jenny’s. Who can use them as part of her charity, or whatever? They always get used to help others, with Jenny in control. Bless her!
I made a call before leaving, to Jen, to moan, lament, and bicker about the substitutions again. Hehe! And let her know I was on my way. Down and delivered them, back up and put the stuff in the waste chute on my floor.
I had a look on the Wilko site, as Jenny suggested to see if they had any PPs on sale. It was a £50 limit to get free delivery, or a minimum £10 charge. They only had a couple of men’s pants, and they were not cheap.
So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size.
I then tended to prepare Josie’s meal sorted out. It was hard work doing it up today, not sure why. The cheesy potatoes were a little loose, I’d but in too much butter. But I think she likes them like that.
I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well.
Please, I came back to the flat, did the washing up from the first nosh, and started updating the blog. Gawd this took me hours and hours! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had kicked off, creating error after mistake after cock-up! It was a frustrating time, and in the end, I had to give up.
I got my nosh going. I’m sure I’d ordered some battered fish on Iceland’s order, so to make room for them in the freezer, I had some, with the potato letters and peas.
I was suddenly all in again. No concentration left, and the right side of me was jumping and jerking, shoulder (SSS), and leg, which was threatening to do a Neuropathy Pete involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. But it didn’t, just stayed with its mini-palpitations throbbing away to its heart’s content.
I’ll have to finish this in the morning.
Good morning!
I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. I was wearied, worn-out and worryingly hebetudinous. But, hunger helped me continue. The meal was worth 6.5/10, no doubt a reduced rating, due to my being so done-in.
I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I?
It didn’t matter, cause I fell asleep again!
When I stirred once more, minutes later, I must have been dreaming about this quandary over the tub of dessert, because I found myself reaching for the yoghourt ith the long picker-upperer, and throwing it in the waste bin. How I managed this physically was something of a miracle. Did I actually do it, or imagined doing it? Will I wake up in the morning and tread on it? On and on the Thought-Storms raged!
Looking back, I wasn’t even sure that I wasn’t dreaming all of this?
I nodded off again, waking up again, wanting a wee-wee. As I had got up and was catching my balance, the agony from the mystery growth under the foot, made me jump a bit, no a lot! Got the wee-wee taken, staggered untidily to wash my hands, back to the c1968 recliner, got down painfully on the ringed cushion, (I’d missed the centre and started Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging). I added recent events to the notepad. (Not that I could read the scrawl easily in the morning)
Oh, dearie me, I’d left the light on! Crying was an option, but self-loathing was stronger, and I silently cursed myself, got up to turn off the light, and suffered when the new papule, or whatever it is under the foot gave me more discomfort.
I think I had another discussion with the boss, Mr G. Mostly inquiring as to why he bothered to let me be born, maltreated me. Gave me so many defeats in life. And was now giving me agony, frustrations and confidence-destroying failures? I got no answers!
Failing to get back to sleep, I realised as I lay there discussing things with the Thought-Storm, I probably deserve the luck I’m getting, fir things I have done in early life. I tried to recontact Mr G and apologised for bothering him.
23:45hrs: I woke up suddenly, to suffer the headache-giving wild Thought-Storms bounding about ricochetting off of each other, and making little sense, as they fought each other to be the one to send me daft, demented or doolally! I had a minute or two of semi-panic.
Now, this is hard for me to explain with any clarity, but, I’ll try: I was (I think) dreaming it – and seemed to wake up a second time, and the flaming Thought-Storms were still there! They then died away within seconds, and Anne Gyna took over as the worrying-stakes lead-tormenter. Gawd almighty, she was giving me some stick!
No wee-wee or Porcelain-Throne visits were needed, so I knew something in the brain, body or both was amiss!
I battled bravely and got my Brobdingnagian-blubbery-bellied body up onto its feet. Taking extra care to avoid another Accifauxpa like yesterday (Harolds Haemorrhoids are still suffering from it!). I took my time and did the balance-regaining exercises, following the instructions (painfully) from the After-Stroke Team to the letter! And made my way into the kitchenette, to get the important thing done – make a brew of Glengettie tea. Snortle!
The wee-weeing started, let’s take it as if they were approximately three-an-hour, that’ll save me time and typing. Thank you.
I got the kettle on, made the brew, and got the Health checks done. The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer didn’t work first time again, did on the second attempt. Giving a slightly lower SYS of 161, and a higher DIA of 80. The pulse was spot on the button, at 70 BPM.
The new contactless thermometer gave a satisfactory 35.°c reading. In the green again. Yee-Haa!
When it came to taking the medications – Boing! I found I’d missed taking last night’s pot, again! So took the evening ones and added a Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule. I will take the morning ones, later on, around 5-6 o’clock, but must remember to take out the Dioctyl®!
Started the updating of the Thursday IT diary. And it took me hours and hours. Not because of Nicodemus, BPB, SSS or Neuropathy Pete dancing, indeed only BPB was any bother at all, and she was a lot less harrowing than yesterday! (Inward-Smile emerging). Anne Gyna was still in destruct-mode, but this did not affect my typing at all, my concentration, yes! The photographs I’d taken yesterday, on my ill-judged trip to town were the greatest time-taker-upper job.
I pressed on merrily and got the updating finished. It cost me until 05:00hrs, but I was reasonably pleased with the results. Got the blog posted off to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps and emailed the link. Then the overdue summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, I wobbled off to the wet room.
I get confused at how the evacuations change in style every day lately. This morning’s effort had Constipation Konrad as the clear 2-0 winner over Trotsky Terence. Which meant the pain when passing had to be endured again. That, I wasn’t too pleased about.
So I took an extra Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule afterwards, as I made a new mug, this time of Thompsons Punjana tea, and got back to the computing. I did the Facebook updating first, then answered some WordPress comments, well, The comment. Hehe!
I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great stuff on there today. Then I started on today’s post. I was getting into it and realised I’d not drank the Punjana! So went to make a brew of Glengettie to replace the gone cold tea. (I do a lot of that!)
05:20hrs now, I took the belated morning medications, but forgot to take the poo-softener out of the pot first! Now I could be in more bother! The next visit to the Throne could well be one of the messier variety! Message to Self: Concentrate when taking your tablets. Idiot!
I received the local Email letter, and a few items were of disappointing news:
65 Covid Deaths reported in Nottinghamshire in seven days!
Nottingham has been plunged into Tier 3
Time for some brekkers methinks. I got some potatoes in the crock-pot.
The top came off pf the Soy sauce bottle, and instead of a couple of shakes of sauce going in, it was half the bottle! Hehehe!
I made the breakfast-noodles, adding some gravy seasoning to it. I shan’t be adding gravy seasoning to any more of them; it was not very nice.
Then, I turned my keen, educated, efficient, diligent, alert, receptive, bright, and concentratedly-reliable attentions, to getting the Ablutions done.
The session went reasonably well; apart from the teeth bleeding, three cuts shaving, a mega-drop of the showerhead that hit me on the knee with a fair wallop, a bang against the left grab-rail – quickly followed by a knock against the right grab-rail. The cap came off of the lemon shower gel, and (albeit not too bad a one), a toe-stubbing on the sock-glide. I knocked over the Germolene, Olive oil dropper and the Daktacort. (the Daktacort is still missing), and approximately twelve dropsies, it went well.
I finished the medications, got dressed, and sorted out some waste bags to go to the chute room. Added the bottles for the glass bin to the box, on the trolley and off out, to the chute first, then down and Stewart took the bottles from me. I limped along to see omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Pole Dancer, and Warden Deana, to ask for help with sorting the prescriptions out for next month.
She was in when I arrived, but busy, of course. I explained about someone from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, told the Doctors receptionist they would not delivery the prescriptions anymore. I needed clarification on this, before next Friday when they are due. Whichever, yay or nae to delivering, I need to know the date I can arrange to pick them up, then a volunteer needs to be searched for, this is why I am asking a week in advance, last month there was no answer to Deana’s calls at all. But, they are Volunteers! Deana will call them next week, Monday or Tuesday for me. I thanked her and returned to the Woodthorpe lobby.
Back up to the flat and set to work on updating this blog.
The landline chimed out and burst-forth with flashing. It was Sister Jane, I got an update with their medicalisational activities. They are as busy as I am nowadays.
Pete has to have another Cat Scan, then meet with his Doctor this Monday, then on
Jane & Pete
the following Monday, a Pet Scan, and meet his Doctor. Then, has to have his bone-morrow tested again! Porr cocker! The lad is not used to all this medicationalisationing stuff. But he’s catching up, and I think coping well with it.
Jane says she is catching up with me in the Whoopsiedangleplop stakes Haha! She’s put two does of drops in her eye this morning! (Copy-Cat! Hahaha!) She thinks there is some shadow recognition, no proper vision yet. Well done, Pete and Jane!
Well, I must get some graphics done in advance, and I hope I can stay awake long enough to get some templates made up for future use for the diaries.
As I struggled to glean enough concentration from working on CorelDraw and WordPress to make the headers, Herbert kicked off ith his noise again. I was tired again and irritable with myself. Constantly making mistakes and having to correct them, making the time tool grow by hours! It was well passed my head-down time, but a new determination and commitment to get them done was with me.
Herbert continued with his clattering, I wonder what he is making, I’ve never heard these type of reverberating noises before. Still, him being a deipnosophist, garrulous, or a lover of persiflage. More a sort of taciturn chap. So, I’ll never know. Hehe!
I’ve never had a train set, you know. Just thought I’d mention it!
Suddenly it was getting dark. I made a brew and took this picture.
Although I was struggling with my concentration on CorelDrawing and the template making, I was enjoying doing it, especially after Herbert had quietened down bless him.
I took a break, made a brew, had a wee-wee, and got the Cilli-Con-Carne with added passata and gravy in the saucepan, and got two brown baguettes out to oven bake later to have with the meal.
Little did I know that it would be several more hours before this occurred! On and on with the template-making, I plodded, but in a semi-contented fashion, I admit. Saccades Sandra was making vision difficult.
But then Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, reconnected, and for hours! I made the most of it, and continued graphicalisationing with gusto!
I had another break, and went to check on the cooking, turned the heat down, had a wee-wee, washed, and when I returned to the kitchen, I took a photo of the beautiful night sky. Took the first shot, and viewing it, though, hell there’s a fire on the horizon in Nottingham?
I took two more zoomed-in pictures. It seemed to me that they were coming from near the Victoria flats? I got the news on the computer, but there was no mention of any fire in Nottingham?
I, at long last, got them all completed (The templates). A mixture of pride and weariness was being enjoyed… When I smelt the burning! Argh!
Oh, dearie me! The baguettes are going to need soaking in gravy to eat them without breaking any more teeth! Guffaff!
So, I turned off the computer and served up the meal. But there was no way I could eat much of it, I was just too drained mentally.
Most of it was thrown out, bread and yoghourt as well. A lot of cleaning up was tended to as well. I took a shot of the late evening view, imbibed the medications, had a wee-wee, washed, and checked the kitchen for anything left dangerously.
I think I may have scorched the skin a bit when I got the baguettes out of the oven, only to throw them away. Humph!
Stripped off, got the jammie bottoms on, and down into the c1968 recliner.
Getting to sleep was no problem tonight. Mind you, it was five hours later than my usual kipping time. I just knew it was going to be a marathon, and getting up would be an unwilling struggle.
01:25hrs: As I stirred into imitation life, I spotted the untaken evening medications pot. I wondered why I’ve suddenly started to miss taking them so often, lately?
My mind was working away, alright. No thought-storming, just a gentle, unfathomable dribble of inanities, and confusion of half-worked out worries and problems – that dissipated as quickly as they arrived? Being replaced in perpetuity, with the need for a wee-wee.
I encouraged the even greater-sized, fat-covered stomach to join the rest of the body in getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. Some gnawing pains and a eurgh or two, a couple of boing-boings as the body-mass settled, and I was up catching my balance – but not well enough!
My balance did not equilibrise, and I tumbled back down into the recliner with a sickening thud! I hope that the neighbours didn’t hear it!
Which promptly set off BPB (Back-Pain Brenda), PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), and Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding. Not to mention that I clouted my right elbow on the arm of the chair! I had to get back up to check the injuries over and clean up the fungal lesion.
Usually, I’d do this in the wet room, but had a tube of the Daktacort on the ottoman with the Health Check stuff. So I got on with most awkward and painful needs first—cleaning and stopping Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, and applying the cortisone ointment.
Which, of course, was of no bother to a brave, heroic, healthy, young man like me. (Snortle!) Argh!
I used the also handily placed Phorpain gel, on the knees, and where I could reach around the folds of gross flab around the midriff, to BPB’s dwellings. A reasonably well-sized bruise was developing on the elbow.
Well, I’ve been awake for how long now? Ages! And I am still within four feet of the rickety-recliner, and still desperate for a wee-wee! Positively, not one of the best starts to a day I’ve not.
I considered having a few more words via prayer, with the Boss. But, being as my last week’s ecclesiastical discussion didn’t help any, I went for a wee-wee instead! A need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time.
This session was the easiest, and least painful one I’ve had in months! Messy? Oh, yes! Due to Trotsky Terence winning the fight with Constipation Konrad, hands-down this morning! But, hey, the lack of pain and concrete torpedo removing, this was nae problem for me. I’m using up the bleach, and the once large kitchen towel stocks at a pace, mind. Hahaha! I’ve plenty of toilet paper rolls in yet, though.
I took two photographs of the morning view when I made a brew of Glengettie tea.
The moon seemed a little fuller this morning. I tried a wide shot, and it came out half-fairish with the lights.
Then I got the Health Checks done. The new thermometer colour had gone back to green, as a result, was down to an acceptable figure, I assume, 37°c.
Then the sphygmomanometerisationing. It didn’t work the first time, but okay on the next one. The SYS was still a tad high, the same as yesterday, I think.
I made a start on updating the Thursday blog and stuck with it. Dedicated, persistent, tenacious and indefatigability, like never before! But it still took me hours to get it done. Thanks to Nicodus’s Neurotransmitter relentlessly going off and coming back on-line with the brain. I admit to feeling a little smidgeon of pride when I eventually got it finished and posted-off to WordPress.
I even remembered to take the late morning medications! Swank-Mode-Grade 2 adopted!
Sent the email link off. Then did some Facebooking catching up.
I had a pot noodle for brekkers, but the photograph I took of it has done a bunk from the SD card – again! I did some comment replying on WordPress and had a look at the gallery of new stuff. Some cracking photos on there today!
I took another window view picture, zoomed in this time, on the Sherwood Health Centre area.
Then I tended to the ablutions next.
A right mixed bag of incidents, good and bad today.
The dropsies we variable and Nicodemus kept making and losing contact with the neurotransmitters. Fair enough, that’s to be expected. Most items were dropped, some several times, like the toothbrush, razors, soap and shower gel bottle.
The tiniest of cuts shaving on the lip had to be ‘after-shaved’ to stop it bleeding. Ooh! However. Showering, not a single dizzy hit me!
I couldn’t see it, but I got a reasonable picture of it all the same. That I assume to be from the plopping back down on the haemorrhoids and hitting the elbow on the recliner arm earlier?
I dropped the towel and grabbed the shower chair to lean on to lower my rotund but horrendously wobbly-fleshed body down to retrieve it… I may have got another bruise as I hit my shoulder on the metal seat support. Ah, well!
The feet and pins looked really good and almost normal. Finished drying off, got the deodorants on, and did the medicating. I was surprised at how little piles had bled, considering the strength of the wallop I gave them going back down in the seat. Mixed results then?
I did some updating of this blog.
Then took a snap of the weather outside through the balcony windows glass. Frosty on the ground, a few droplets of rain, not much wind, and the cold sun trying to come out.
This decided me, I am going out later. Only on the bus to town, and calling in the Poundland shop, to try and get some cheap disinfectant, toothpaste, pork pie, and if they have any, cheap canned garden peas. Then I can not bother to use Morrisons again!
I turned the computer turned off, dug around to find the bus pass, keys, etc. Then, I went through the ‘Bag-of-nerves’ routine of double-checking things before leaving and set off.
Lift down to the ground floor. The upgraders were busy working on the lift and main lobby areas.
I was careful going through not to hit or fall over anything. And got the trolley through to the front doors, and exited safely out into the cold sunshine.
I hobbled along and called in Winwood Court to ask Deana if she could help with next weeks Carrington Pharmacy prescription collecting. No one in the holding cells, so I exited and went out to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk.
A few folks out there. Caught the L9 to town. This was the worst-ever bus ride to town. I’d forgotten all about the problem I had last time I went on a bus, it was that long ago, and immediately wished I’d not gone out. The battle of having to hold onto the trolley as I sat there was hard work at every hill and corner the bus took.
The driver, as he dropped of the few passengers he had, told me not to get off here, and he moved up to get close to the kerb for me to alight. That was nice of him, and I got off unhurt! Hehe!
I walked wearily down Queen Street, and Dizzy Dennis and BPB both kicked off. I decided then, I’d get to the Slab Square and walk to the Poundland Shop, try to get the fodder, and go straight back to the bus stop. I wasn’t feeling too good.
The shop did not have any of the things I wanted, apart from the milk pots and disinfectant. But of course, as is my want & bad habit, I went into a ‘buy-it-anyway’ mode. I ended up amassing Whirls, the milk pots, Dettol disinfectant, toothpaste (Yes eve more, but they were £1, Morrisons are £1.50), Toffeefees, Oxo cubes, and chip-shop gravy granules in the basket.
I must have looked worse than how I felt, cause a young lady at the self-serve tills, took one look at me and said she’d put them through for me, asking if I was alright, as I looked very ashen. Another lady inquired if I’d like her to call for an ambulance? The assistant lady put my things through for me, showing concern for my health still. I gave a can of the Gin & tonic from the trolley thanking her.
A bit unnerving that was! Fair does, I was feeling a tad rough, but I must have looked at death’s door. Still, if that’s what it takes to get some attention from females. Hahaha!
I got outside, rearranged the trolley and bag for easier handling, and made my way through Slab Square to the bus stop.
The git of a Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I felt a draught, he came that close to me! Straight over South Parade without stopping, into the square. He was delivering food to somebody. I hope they enjoy it.
Naturally, this did not bother me at all. Oy. Oy, Oy!
As I got to the top of Queen Street, as the bus was just coming in, a couple of ladies waiting, inquired if I was poorly! This was getting worrying now! Hehe!
Another horrendously painful trip home, worse now I had the extra weight in the trolley to keep a hold of.
Getting off of the bus at the flats, was dodgy, it was a good distance from the bus to the pavement to cover. The waiting inmates at the stop, each offered an odd stare to me, but said nothing? I checked my flies, they were secure!
I hobbled to the wardens holding cell to ask about help for the prescriptions, but no one in again. Can’t be helped, I’ve almost a week to try and sort it yet. If the memory doesn’t let me down, Har-Har!
I got back to the apartment and battled to get the trolley through the door, and new fatigue came over me. I was done in!
I unloaded the purchases, Dizzy Dennis and Conrad Confusion took control. I proceeded to get the Chilli-Coon-Carne with baked beans, and gravy added, burning the saucepan in the process. I scraped the saucepan and left it in soak.
The meal was devoured with delight, even though I think I fell asleep eating it at one point? Conrad Confusion was taking a firmer grip on me.
Perhaps it was because I felt so weary, but the meal was only given a 7/10 (on notepad). I cant, read the rest of the scribble, so don’t know why.
Cleaned up the saucepan and pots, I must have, they were all washed and dried when I woke up later on.
I took the evening medications early and was soon in the land of nod.
Waking up still a tad confused just before midnight. Not in a confident frame of mind, and Conrad Confusion present again. And the Thought-Storms active. Flibblegonkackles!
23:35hrs: I stirred back into mock-life, frit myself as I passed an involuntary eruption of flatulence and in a hurried kerfuffle, I got my mahoosive, wobbly-bellied body out of the recliner, and straight towards the wet room, in an urgent need of the Porcelain Throne. (Not catching by balance first or taking Metal Mickey with me – but I got away with it, Phew!)
I got in the wet-room post-haste, without any falls, bags or dizzies. Whipped off the PP’s and once again the movement stopped of its own accord, seemed to get stuck, and I reached for the crossword book. But a minute or so later, it started again, eagerly! The complete evacuation was over in about a minute!
But the Dioctyl® capsules seem to be working more effectively against Constipation Konrad this time. I’d say it was a 2-0 win against Trotsky-Terence this morning. A messy affair mind, I had to clean up, and the product produced needed a refill or two from the sink, to clear things away. Hey-Ho! The most important thing at the time, was it was far-less painful, and only a few specs of Harold Haemorrhoid’s blood.
Panicky waking moments to the day, but the pleasure of the release from pain made up for it, and I was almost chuffed for once. But resisted going into a Smug-Mode yet, knowing my luck this cannot last for long. Hehehe!
After taking the photo of the tank being refilled (Not a bad job that, with the right hand as well) Go on then, into Smug-Mode. I notice that for some unknown reason, the right arm was much redder, than the rest of my body? I took this snap of it, I don’t know why.
Then, I had a wash and antisepticised the touch-areas, and off to the front room to get the Health Checks done. The Boot’s old type BP sphygmomanometer read 61 for the SYS, which was fair enough, I thought, certainly lower than the previous few days. Smug-Mode retained!
The body temperature was also okay.
I did not take the morning medications, because I found the pot with the evening tablets still in it. (Oh, things might be returning to usual here!) I’ll take the morning ones later on when the Warfarin has had time to weaken as they are digested. I can’t remember why, but some iota of memory told me to.
I went to check that I’d not left the tap running again, (I do that sometimes yer know, Humph!) and took this slightly moody but half-decentish shot of the morning view of the sky and sleeping population’s dwellings, houses, flats, apartments, alleyways. There are even two manufacturing businesses out there still trading!
Not all of them will be kipping, the NHS staff will be risking their lives coping with the Coronavirus pandemic, delivery persons out and about. Burglars, muggers and drug-dealers, naturally! Not forgetting the uniformed Nottingham City Policemen, I should think that half of the force would be out there somewhere. But I couldn’t spot either of them. Hahahaha!
I got on with the need to get some templates made up, I was well behind with everything with all yesterday evenings interruptions. It took me about four hours to get them all finished, and I was beginning to feel a bit drained.
I think the Furesomides were working well too, I needed to have repeated wee-wees throughout the session. Altogether, they would not have filled the kettle, they were dribbling weak efforts. So, I made the first mug of Glengettie of the day and returned to the computer.
I made up a few graphics to go on the templates, and finished yesterdays blog, got it posted off, Pinterested a few snaps, and caught up with Facebooking. Went on the WordPress Reader, then I answered some comments from my cyber-friends.
I made a late breakfast, very nice too! But couldn’t eat it all.
Checked on the Google Calendar, that Morrison’s are delivering today, twixt 13:00 > 14:00 hrs. When they have arrived, if I am still got some mental and physical energy left, I must make one up for next week, if I can get a delivery slot, that is.
I stopped to get the Ablutions done. A stand-up job with it being too early to use the noisy shower. It well as smoothly as it has done for weeks. But, Gawd knows how, but I forgot to have a shave? I’ll tend to it later, Tsk!
The body was extremely ashen again, but the feet were still much less affected by the saying off, it seems, ulcers and papules?
Hello, off to the Porcelain Throne again. A repeat performance of the last one, but no bleeding this time. Good, innit?
I made another brew of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time, and tool the belated morning medications.
Around 0740hrs, a call came in on the landline—a recorded message, from a fast-talking, none-stopping female. I could make very little out of what she was saying, but I did pick-up; the word Prime, and £79 something from your account? Help!
I attempted to make an order for Iceland for next week. But had to settle for one for next Friday 20th, between 08:00 >10:00. No Chilli Con Carne, but I tried some meatballs in BBQ gravy instead.
Then, I had a look at what Morrison slots were available. Bit of luck, I got one for next Tuesday! 0900>1000hrs!
All sorted out, pleased now that no more hassle, mind you, today’s Morrison one hasn’t arrived yet, better say nowt!
I got the waste-bags made up, and got them In a box on the three-wheeler. A bit of a struggle to get it out of the door, but I coped – the scrape on the back of the hand against the door frame is nothing to a man like me. Ahem!
I went back to check on the spuds in the slow cooker, also to check I’d not left anything on that shouldn’t be, like heat or the taps) Not confident? Me? Hah! You’re right!
I got to and in the waste-room, put all the bags down the chute, came out, backwards, and to the lift. As I was awaiting the arrival of the cage, it dawned on me, I’d not banged or walked into anything, and the ailments were no bother, Zilch hassle! Very worrying!
I got down to Jenny’s floor, and there were no shoes outside the flat. So, no point in pressing the bell, so I put the carrier on the floor and back to the elevator, which soon arrived, and down to the ground floor with the recycle box atop the three-wheeler trolley walker.
This top photograph shows the view of the lift lobby as I got out of the cage!
I poddled along to the end on the corridor, see here in all it’s majesticness and splendour. It’s been so long since I’ve escaped the 12th-floor.
I turned right into the main lobby, and out to temporary freedom, to get the cardboard and plastic in the green bin.
I turned around and had a lookup to the left along Chestnutnut Walk, then ahead of the car park and the gravel hill path up into Woodthorpe Grange Park.
I took a picture each turn I made, left, across and to the right, they are all on that order on the right here.
Nice to get out and do some photography after such a long time.
But I could not take too long, as the Sainsbury order delivery time hour is three hours away, and I have to get back up in case they phone up, or the intercom goes off.
The three frames all have something other in common, other than they are all of Chestnut Walk – they are all barren of any tellurians as far as I could see, a lonely, sad sight this site! Hehehe!
I swiped myself into the lobby doors, with there odd bits of stuck on notices about the works and Coronavirus, and sticking half-way open door. Struggled a bit top get the front wheel of the trolley-walker-guide over the raised grippers on the floor.
I got in and had a perusal of the notice come blackboard that was not black. A whiteboard I think, with the rub-outability function for marker pens, to see what I’d been missing.
It was advising the tenants on the lower floors the lockdown will turn into a lock-in on odd days, while they lay the new lift lobby flooring on their levels.
I bet someone will come out and tread in the setting cement again. Haha!
I meandered through and into the ground floor lift lobby. I did see the odd harassed looking worker rushing about while I waited, but no tenants anywhere whatsoever.
It’s a good social life here, you know!
I was taking this photographicalisation of the electronic notice board, and the lift cage arrived – no one in it to chat or say good morning to.
I was soon back up in the cell… I mean, flat.
I put the guide away in the corner and had a little natter with Scruffy and Katie.
My pets, don’t you know! Donated to me Scruffy from Canada and Koala Kate from Australia TFZers after I’d had the stroke. Bless them! ♥ Makes me so cared for that did, all those miles away, not surprising I love em!
Jenny rang to tell me off for leaving the treats for her, Doris, Frank or their charities as she wanted to, at her flat door. We hat a natter which was super, but I was wary of not hearing the intercom in case the Morrison delivery arrived. But it worked out well, just as she rang off, the intercom came to life!
I met the man at the door, and he proceeded to put the goods into the box, and bag for me. Slipped him a can of Vodka and lime, and dragged the folder into the kitchen to sort them out. Well, what crap substitutions again!
It looks like they have made money out of me according to how it reads above? Swine! Gits! Basta… Never mind! I got some terrible substitutes. Gin & lemon – I got Gin & tonic, Red Potatoe battered cakes, I get the McCains salt and pepper chips again, which are crap-tasteless! Shaving foam, Chilli con Carne subs.
But the daftest thing was my own fault. I really thought I had ordered a pack of six salt & black pepper rolls, Hehehe! Each roll was like a small loaf! I thought Jenny would be able to use them for someone, so I rang her and took them down to her flat.
Then got the stuff put away.
Peed off now at me, that is the third time I’m tried to order the
Battered sweet red potatoes from Morrisons this year, and every time they have subbed the totally not red potatoes, not battered either, shit McCains salt and black pepper pathetic crap… crap… crap!
Still, it doesn’t bother me too much. Huh!
I finished hoarding the unwanted goods, swearing and name-calling verbally at Morrisons, last week it was Sainsbury’s. Globranglings!
I had no choice other than to throw the shit-chips away or eat them, so I abandoned my plans for a CCC (Chilli-Con-Carne) and got the sickening tasting, soggy, bland, crap, rubbish unwanted McCains chips, substituted for Sweet Potato cakes in batter, in the oven.
While they were cooking, I took these three zoomed-in pictures from the unwanted, unlike, light and view-blocking new kitchen.
The top one should have shown you a Christmas tree-lights. But, in my usual Cock-it-up fashion, it came out all horrible and unclear. (I’m good at taking photographs like this. Hehe!)
I burnt a finger-knuckle getting the Morrison’s sickeningly imitation, pretend, substitute for Sweet potatoes in the batter. And got the sordid, bland, gunk of kak, chips, I wouldn’t have anything else with them, knowing they would only taint anything else on the plate with their disgusting sweet sickly flavour.
I got some of the Milk Roll loaf bread, (Oh, a thank you to Morrisons for having some Milk Roll in stock, and not substituting with nail polish, or firelighters, nice one, cheers!) and I put a drop of BBQ sauce in the dish, to try and mask the taste of the chips a bit. But that was a Morrison own-label brand sauce, that made things worse!
The garbage-chips looked as bad as they tasted. Very grim! No flavour rating is given unless something like ‘Flavour Rating: Minus 10’ would be grammatically correct? I only ate a few of them, gooey chips, flavourless apart from the black pepper, the sauce was probably made from bleach and drain cleaner, and I went into a nasty, wanting revenge mood!
When I’d got the cleaning up and the ablutions all done, (although no shave again?) I got down to watch the TV, but I knew I would not need this medium tonight for flaking-out into the arms of Sweet Morpheus, I was drained, the eyelids were drooping. I needed something to satisfy my unhealthy morbidity, frustrations with nothing going right, and temporarily bring some good thoughts into my grey-cell box.
I did imagine I was a Mafia-boss and was making plans of attacking Morrisons and Sainsburys, to get revenge for the way they have treated me this past two weeks. But guilt, and certainty that I was losing-it, stopped my progress, and Morpheus arrived to enfold me in sweet peace.
I woke an hour or so later, and was sure I heard music? But I didn’t even bother to do my usual hunt around when I’m woken by these unknown clatters or bangs, for fear of something had fallen, or leaked, or whatever, to cause the sound. I was not interested.
But, could I get back to sleep? No! Soddit! Grumbleackers!
22:50hrs: I broke back into the real world, accompanied by DD (Duodenal Donald) and AG (Anne Gyner), both giving me as much hassle as they have ever done. (Bless ’em!) Swiftly being joined by the gut-aches, rumbling, grumbling and, I expect, preparing the path, brewing up for a Porcelain visit.
At least I was feeling a little more with-it, mentally, than yesterday. I knew that my beloved, beautiful, blood-vampire nurse, Hristina was due to call on me. She is always very busy nowadays, but her visiting, even if only for a few minutes, is better than any medicine.
As I extracted my ponderously-gross, wobbly-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey, and moved my plum-shaped torso towards the amazingly little-used EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), the left wrist started to itch. As is usual, I gave it a good scratching. Hello, more blotches and papules coming up?
As I was about to pick up the bucket – the innards rumblings increased, and I took immediate action, and I made for the wet room. Getting to the Porcelain Throne, almost tearing the jammie-bottoms, and actually tearing the PPs, as I desperately got down just in time, and the evacuation started! It hurt, but it always does nowadays, but far less than yesterday. But messy it certainly was! Back to the khaki-coloured torpedo style, leaving bits floating that looked like overcooked brown kale. Minimal bleeding, though – but maximum cleaning up needed. However, I was glad I’d got that over with, I can tell yer!
All sorted, washed and medicated, and back to the front room, and I got on with the Health Checks. At this stage, I wondered what was going to go wrong this morning, after the last few days record of Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops!
But, my determination to stop being a victim stopped me! The BP result for the SYS was 167, which was in line with the previous two ones. I put the figures into Google to see how they faired. I got this: “Normal pressure is 120/80 or lower. Your blood pressure is considered to be high (stage 1) if it reads 140/90. Stage 2 high blood pressure is 160/100 or higher. If you get a blood pressure reading of 180/110 or higher more than once, seek medical treatment right away.” I see!
I then took the body temperature on the new thermometer. The 36.6° c result is fair enough, I reckon.
I took the morning medications, remembering to take the Furosemide tablet and the Dioctyl® Capsule with the regular ones.
No tea this morning yet – It’s True! I had the spring water to take the tablets and took the odd guzzle from spring water, and cordial I made up.
The innards seemed to be settling, but Anne Gyna was rampantly stinging away, still.
I got Computer Katie on, and uploaded the photos and stored them in the appropriate files, and WordPress.
Then made a start on this blog as far as here, next I updated yesterdays post and got it sent off. I emailed the link. Pinterested some snaps. Caught up with the Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader section.
Then I got some breakfast. The last of the Batchelor’s noodles, but well altered and seasoned. Made and added some gravy, balsamic vinegar, and the last of the few Foul Beans. And my first jolly-strong brew of Glengettie tea, and carried out the morning dining, (not even 06:00hrs yet).
While I was making a start on creating some graphics, well, one of them anyway. I realised that it was time now to get the Ablutions sorted out, for Hristina, my sweet Vampire nurse is coming. I wanted to make sure that in case she comes earlier than expected, like last week, she can avoid the horrendousness of seeing my rhinoceros-like body when I went out of the shower, again!
A smidge too early for me to have a shower with the noise it makes (07:20hrs) I don’t want to disturb anyone if I can help it. So, I had a stand-up jobbie, but I do miss having a shower, even though the risk of falls, dizzies or knocks are always present and likely to occur, in differing degrees every time I use the shower, nowadays.
It’s just my heroic outlook, bravery, bubbling personality, and a chance to view my muscled but lithe, masculine young body, you now… Oh, alright, forget it! Hahaha!
Stand-Up Ablutionalisationing Activities Report
The teeth cleaning was one of the betterer events of the session. Just a few dropsies.
The shaving only produced three nicks, but eight dropsies! No injuries were worthy of note.
I did get somewhat over-enthusiastic in cleaning the rear end – much bleeding and stinging from Harolds Haemorrhoids! A struggle to stop the blood flow, but I got it stemmed, nit without some discomfort and mess, in the end.
I can’t believe how stupid I am, yer know! I only went at cleaned Little Inchies fungal lesion, with the same idiotic ardour, and this time the blood flowed for a worryingly long-time, well, bled.
More of the Hydrocortisone (Steroid) Daktacort ointment was needed than ever before, to stop the tiniest of cracks (lesions) from bleeding!
However, on the brighter side, apart from looking like a carcass, the legs and feet were losing the new growths? The blister thing that came up very quickly yesterday had gone right down again? And the ulcer was even fainter?
Reading this about the ablutions as I checked, it and made countless corrections (of course!), it sounded worse than it was. Other than Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, maybe Harolds’s Haemorrhoids, it didn’t go too badly at all.
I got out of the wet room, leaving another clump of shoulder skin on the edge of the door-frame as I misjudged the width again, and said: “Oh, dear, ay-well it can’t be helped”. Well, maybe not those exact words… Humph!
I got some small waste bags made up, and as there was a chance that heart-fluttering Vampire Nurse Hristina might arrive soon, I put them in the box on the trolley to take to the chute later.
Then got on CorelDraw, determined to get some graphics done. Nicodemus, SSS and Shaking Shaun were all in a good mood with me! And by the time my sweet Angel arrived, I’d made two-day graphicalisations and a TFZer page header one!
Smug-Mode Adopted!
I heard and recognised the voice calling, it was Hristina, my pulchritudinous, precious, bewitching, blood-taking, loin-girding, ‘Cheer-Me-Upperer’, and phlebotomists vampire nurse ♥. Someone had let her in the foyer door, and here she was. Happiness may only come for a few minutes each week, but this was those few minutes! And I wallowed in them! But it felt like seconds later, she was off to serve someone else… My momentary burst of happy contentment degenerated, deteriorated, dwindled and a mild depression relaced them! Dangnableisations!
I opted to try and cheer myself back up; and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and took some photographicalisation from the light & view-blocking kitchen window, that was obviously designed by a gerontophobia, or maybe person living with gerascophobia. I took a shot of below on Chestnut Drive; the car park looks well-full this lunchtime.
I turned my photographicalisationing attentions to the dank, yet still beautiful skies.
To the left, straight ahead and to the right. The layered cloud appearance was there still, but not so obvious with no sunshine to burst through.
I noticed, although somewhat late in the month, I admit, that my Nokia Ultra-mobile, with 512MB, £1,399 for 128GB storage, with its gargantuan, 6.9inch display screen, and the hole-punch camera, and ‘Space Zoom 100x ’mobile phone had not had the time changed yet. So I altered it. Ahem! But I took this photo and tried to get my head in the reflection for a laugh. Gawd, look at the pale death-like skin!
The bells rang out Dusty’s hit tune.
I got up and staggered to the door, to find that the Amazon automatic can-opener was on the floor outside the door. Aha, I thought, I can have tinned food without any problem now! Little did I know what farcicalisations lay ahead for me!
I got the parcel into the front room, and I was interested in trying to see how the thing worked, and if I could operate it with my disabilities.
These were claimed to be: Can Openers Electric, Hand Free Electric Can Opener, Restaurant Kitchen Can Opener, Ergonomic Design, Free of Manual Labour, for Senior Arthritis Home Gadget!
We’ll have a look and see then.
At least the instructions were readable. (Lies, but decipherable). I’d got the batteries in the machine, within an hour. I read and reread the instructions several times.
But would it work? No! No signs of life or activity.
Finding someone to help will be difficult, and I’m getting tired now after being up for over thirteen hours, so I’ll surrender, and give it a go again in the morning. I imagine it will be who’s all confused and is to blame. Hogwashville again?
I ferreted about and got a ring-pull opener can of Chilli-Con-Carni. No ring-pulls on the red beans, so I tried the new opener again, no luck.
Tried the old-new electric one, no luck either, dead as a do-do!
Desperate times call for desperate measures. So, I tried the new one again, but nothing happened, I think that the batteries should be good, I only bought them last month?
I was really in a frantic state now, so I hunted around and found the old tin hand-opener. It was a real struggle, it only part opened the can. So an old knife was utilised, to free the red kidney beans from captivity, but it cost me two little cuts on the jagged edges of the can. They were that tiny, I was surprised they bled at all.
Still, I pressed on and got them in the saucepan with some boiled potatoes and the chilli. Then I added some Squid and balsamic vinegar, and made some gravy (Well Oxo), and gave it all a good stir and agitationalisationing. Hehe!
The landline burst into ringing and flashed. It was Sister Jane, that was nice! News that Pete was at the City Hospital having is radiation assessment, and they told him he was making OK – Music to the ears! We started to have a chinwag, but Jane had an incoming call from Pete came in and had to ring off. Or as HRM would say, Orf! Hahaha!
I got back to CorelDraw, still, I haven’t got the graphics done, it’s been a little busy today.
As I was listening to the comforting sound of someone banging about, the door chimes rang out.
It was an Amazon delivery. I knew what it was, the Pimms and lemonade drinkies, I intend to slip to Jenny, Doris and Frank. Also to callers, delivery people, medical staff etc. as a thank you treat, towards Christmas.
The first photo I took of it, I missed most of the box, the balance went, but I was so conveniently placed at the time, it was easy to steer my falling body into the swivel chair, bit of luck there!
All okay in a couple of minutes. And I took a photo of the Pimm’s canned treats. I must look up what Pimms are, they have a 5.09% content, whatever that means,
I nipped through to the kitchen to check on the Chilli-con-Carne, but now I have to get the Pimms sorted, so I turned off the heat, just my luck!
However, the food looked good!
Oh, flipping heck, the door-chimes rang again! It was Josie this time, bringing her Sunday dinner things back. She said she enjoyed the potatoes, very nice and cheesy! I told her that’s good. I like to hear I can get something right. Hehe!
Put the things away and got back to CorelDraw, not that my concentration was any good. So tied and unfocussed again.
As promised, by the gastroenterologist, proctologist, the supply of the inside the underpants pads had been delivered.
All three of them! In a Tena sample bag. Considering that I use, on average, nine PPs a week, these are not going to last long are they. But at least they are trying to help me.
I was beyond doing any graphics and decided to get the meal reheated, and get some rest and possibly even sleep.
Hahaha! As if! It was another (albeit unexpected) belated Amazon delivery.
I got the box inside; the delivery driver had long gone by the time I got to the door, I’m getting, like I do every day now, weary, slow-moving and slow-witted, and can only think of food and Sweet Morpheus.
I’d forgotten all about the shoes I’d returned. These are the replacements and look like the right size this time, but we’ll find out later, I’m too tired to muck about with them now, the meal and recliner await my attentions.
That is if the phone and door chimes let me!
Off to get the fodder sorted out, back in the morning, or evening.
I had a bit of fun setting out the CCC meal, using the potato letters. Hahaha!
A flavour-rating of 7.8/10 given.
No sooner had I done the washing and got down in the c1968 recliner, and got the TV on to watch a Kitchen Nightmare, the minute-long nodding-offs began. I found getting off amd staying asleep difficult, but manages it… Zzzz!
00:45hrs: I awoke to the welcoming stings of the new rear-end furuncle, which was closely matched by Harold’s Haemorrhoids smarting away. “I thought, well, another good day on the way!” Hehehe!
The regulation need for a wee-wee arrived, and I removed the mountainously-bellied body, with the thin dangly legs and arms, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, rusty, not working, obnoxiously beige-coloured recliner, caught my balance (very smoothly this morning!) So, I left Metal-Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) behind, and cautiously poddled to the wet room.
Again, not a productive visit at all, barely a few seconds of a weak unwilling, dribble. Tsk! Then the nose started to bleed?
Still, it gave me a chance to clean and medicate the poor old furuncle and the piles, and have a look at the bruising from the door shoulder-charging and sliding down of bruise. No pain, even when I pressed the Phorpain gel in it, and it was clearing up so fast. Great!
As I set about doing the Health Checks, I had to stop myself from using the Enoxparin hypo, that is no longer needed, now the INR level had gone up to 2.0, although the target is 3.2. I have a feeling the injections will be required again after next Monday’s blood results come in. The contactless thermometer read a healthy 3.38°c.
The BP machine results showed the SYS at 164, a smidge high, methinks, but it has often been a lot higher over the last few weeks or so. I took the morning medications with spring water.
I noticed the moon was showing through the clouds. (I can be quick like that, sometimes, I spotted the moon was out on Tuesday 28th, 1956, you know. Hehehe!) I took a few photographs to try and get a decent one; these were the only two that were so-so!
Then, got the computer on. Uploaded pictures from the camera onto CorelDraw to resize and sort them, and get them onto the WordPress gallery.
As I stood up to go for another wee-wee, Peripheral Pete’s right leg offered forth the usual warning signs of an involuntary dancing session was about to start, so I took and kept Metal Mickey with me from then on. To the wet room and just as yesterday, the second visit was a marathon?
I made the first mug of the day, of Thompsons Punjana tea, I had thought of having a drink of the decaffeinated rubbish tasteless, weak tea, but the thought of it almost made me puke. Then, I made a start on this blog up to here and then began to update yesterday’s post.
T’was a long slog, not that any of the ailments bothered or hindered me much, I was having difficulty in concentrating. Mind you, getting up for a few wee-wees, set Furuncle Fred of, of course, painful!
Getting the Dioctyl™ capsules to take, I spotted the rain was drizzling down, a little mist seemed to be spreading all around the flats, and I had an unintended little Phlutt! It escaped from the rear-quarters; two things worthy of mentioning about this enforced activity; One, the horrible stink, followed seconds later by a fair-share of agony from Furuncle-Fred! Life can hold surprises of the most unexpected types!
I pressed on and got the updating finished, and the blog posted to WordPress. Had some brekkers, well, a packet of Quavers, and two mini-jam rolls. And felt that either Furuncle-Fred or Harolds Haemorrhoids were bleeding, that wet warm feeling, you know. Well, maybe you didn’t, but you do now. Hahaha!
I decided to get the ablutions done, and then I can investigate the medical problems properly afterwards. Off to the wet room, and what a long session, it turned out to be!
ABLUTIONALISATIONING INCIDENT REPORT
Before I even got the teeth cleaning started, I had to dive for the Porcelain Throne. Which was brilliant, cause I was only two paces (or five of my limps), to reach in, and did so in time!
A right time-consuming job to clean up afterwards; Messy, a lot of it, khaki in colour, and it left a hell of a stink behind it!
Got things sorted, but it needed two fillings of the tank before the items were flushed-away on the third try. Tsk!
Got teggies done without a single bit of bother, and just two dropsies! Oh, yes!
Now hear this! Now hear this! The shaving went with only the one dropsy – and no, I say No, nicks or cuts at all! I couldn’t believe it, and I was there! A Super-Duper-Smug-Mode engaged!
The medicationalisationing wasn’t so lucky, or pain-free, though. I checked out, as best I could, the rear end bleeding problems. It was I think, just Harold Haemorrhoids that were bleeding, but the boil was the more tender problem. Getting the two creams needed on without mixing
I took two snaps of the Enoxaparin injection blotches. Left and right side of the bulbous, flabby, massive, wobbly belly. A terrible sight!
It was raining heavier now; the Sainsbury driver is going to get wet. He arrived moments later. As Victor Meldrew used to say… “I Can’t Believe it!”
As the chap put the things into the box for me; he flattened my cream cakes, the not properly frozen cornets ran all over the other stuff, a bottle of toilet cleaner leaked and wen onto the yoghourts… I got the things through to the kitchen to salvage and sort out!
I found the tomatoes had been squashed, I threw away the toilet cleaner and yoghourts, some bleach had gone on the cans of chilli as well, but that didn’t matter, apart from my having to spend so long sorting them out! Grrr! I was growing angrier and angrier! Especially as I’d given the driver a can of plonk and thanked him nicely!
Then I found the substitutes: Marmite Cheese Bites – None – Subbed: Cheese minis light?
Carnation extra thick cream – Subbed Carnation evaporated milk!
Caramelised onion & Balsamic vegetable and nibbles, five x20g – Subbed 1x100g onion and vinegar rice chips.
Pedal bin liners 30ltr – Subbed Recycled 40ltr Pedal bin liners.
I truly hope this bit of Whooppsiedangleplopping from Sainsbury’s, will put-off, deter any idiot who is thinking of using Sainsbury’s ‘Sod the customer!’ service in the future.
To add insult to it injury: They say, “IF your substitute is more expensive, AND is covered by out Substitution Promise, we’ll give you a voucher for the difference to use on your next online grocery order!Well, that’s as plain as mud for me! With such disastrous substitutions and all the damaged, and soaking wet goods delivered, they have the gall to think and suppose that I will be using them again to get a few pennies back? Ha!
There, I feel a little less irked now I’ve gotten rid of that verbiage drivel! Swine! I felt treated like shit, didn’t think I had the hatred left in me? Likely the Enoxaparin encouraged my venom for Sainsbury’s?
I checked on the now gathered together in the saucepan Chill-Con-Carne, with added tomatoes, Thanks Jenny!, onions, a little extra gravy, and a cup of tomato & basil stock. I’m getting into this experimenting nowadays with the ‘Chilli’ meals’.
I now have a decent stock of the canned chillies, which are not as interesting as the homemade ones, but save tons of time, and are okay with some added prefered flavourings. I may try some leeks to add when I can get some.
Note the can on top of the pile of different brands? That is chilli with wedges. I found it at the back of the cupboard, and the use-by-date is only a few days from terminating. Hehe! So, it looks like that’ll have to be used next.
The Hubbards ((Unfortunately a Sainsbury generic label) are the mildest, perhaps my favourite. The Morrisons Saver ones are a little stronger, and more in the tin, too. The Princes, I have not tested yet. No doubt about it, the expensive one with the potato wedges is far the strongest flavour. There can’t be too much chilli in the can, with chips in there too?
I’ll make another brew; the last one was what I had delivered from Sainsbury’s, Yorkshire Decaffeinated. They delivered that undamaged and dry (See it can be done!) It was horrible but not as bad as the own-label one I bought earlier!
So, credit where it’s due!
Got five waste bags to the bin. Then called Jenny to advise her I was coming down with some ‘bits’ for her, to make use of, from the appallingly shoddy, damaged Sainsbury order (I hope I can get over this annoying sense that I’ve been mistreated by Sainsbury’s). I know Jenny will make proper use of them. She helps others out a lot and knows the deserving cases. I slipped some plonk in with the other things, as a treat for Jen, Doris and Frank. I got down alright in the lift, dropped the carrier outside the apartment door, and back to the elevator to get back up…
It was very surreal (I think that’s the word), trying to get the lift, several times it passed me on its way down, then came up to the 13th floor, and had folks in it when it got to me, no room, let it go. It came up again to the 13th floor, then the 15th, and down to me at the 9th, as the doors opened, I was glad they did, because I was starting to worry about the pan of chilli I’d left on low on the stove.
The cage came down, and I pressed the 12th-floor button – but it went down to the 4th floor, picked a lady up, who went down with me to the ground floor. The 12th storey light was still lit, and eventually, I got up to my floor and into the flat.
Checked the chilli, congealed now at the bottom of the pan, as I anticipated, so I gave it a good stirring with the wooden spoon, to break it up a bit, then made up and added some more gravy to it, agitated it well, and passed wind.
Then the chimes of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the doorbells. Josie returned her Sunday lunch things. She told me she had enjoyed the nosh, and loved the extra-cheesy, buttered mashed potatoes on her plate last Sunday, which pleased me, hearing that. It makes the time and effort all so worthwhile.
I got the meal in the dish on the tray and added the resurrected, reformed, cream cakes, so kindly crushed for me by Sainsbury’s… I really must try to get this maltreatment of Sainsbury’s out of my mind!
I consumed it with relish. It was not all that tasty with my having to add some gravy to it when it coagulated while I was playing in the lifts trying to get back to the flat, Hehehe! But it enjoyable enough, a flavour rating of 7/10, all the same.
I got the saucepan and dishes soaking in the sink, and I may have to try dynamite and the angle-grinder to free up the inner-coated saucepan, later. Hehe!
I took the medications, got washed, medicationalised various parts of the body in need of the same, the jammie-bottoms on, and climbed into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Within minutes I’d nodded-off, into a deep sleep and was dreaming of something or other…
And the landline burst forth and flashed! Boy, did I not want to answer it! Why does this happen so often? Have the famous Woodthorpe Court, ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, and Karakia-cursing entities, no compassion at all! Argh! It was the Doctors surgery receptionist, checking that I’d received the updated dosages for the Warfarin. “Yes, thank you”, I replied. Rang-off, and tried to get back to sleep – a futile idea!
01:35hrs: I was oh, so reluctant and against rising out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, unstable, pukingly-beige-coloured, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. A stubborn dysania had me in its grip! A depressionalisticness hovered over me, and I couldn’t work out why? My EQ was telling me ‘You’ll just have to cope with it this morning, mate!’ My Thought-Storms were like bricolage, unstable, uncontrollable, not practical, bizarre!
As I was on the verge of accepting this insanity, the water-works began a little PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), which the PP’s contained efficiently.
I was forced to alter my priorities, and hasten out of the chair, catch my balance, failed at this, and plopped back down in the recliner. Doing Harold’s Haemorrhoids no good at all!
This caused a little extra escapage from Little Inchy!
I determinedly rose again, and caught my balance, this time, grabbed Metal Micky, and stepped to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Where the wee-wee, weakly sprayed all over the place, and it was the least I’d ever passed in my life, before it closed shut sharply, no after dribble? I’ve put more milk in a mug of teas, than what came out of my bladder! Must be the MacroBid® medication?
Off to the wet room to clean and freshen up, sanitised and disinfected the bucket, changed the PPs, sparingly used the Germoloid, and off to the kitchenette. The brain remained in a fog of sorts.
Another by-pass and change of plans, I had to go back to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne.
Aha! I think things in the Poo-Softening arena, are beginning to work at last! The Smug-Mode-Adoption was resisted – things go wrong too often for me lately!
The entire movement was quicker and smoother than in a long time. There was a bit of bleeding, but that I think, was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so is to be expected. The cistern had to be refilled from the sink and used twice to get the evacuated product to disappear from view.
I got the inspiration from somewhere, to make a strong-minded effort to try and get some photographs of the morning view, that would be better than my recent efforts and tries!
I used the Kodak, and toyed around with different option, hoping for at least some degree of improvement.
Another failure! Gangleboggleisations!
I was most disappointed with the pictures that I’d taken. These three on the right, believe it or not, were the best of them! And why did the last one come out in a different shape? They were so poor. I’d lost my interest altogether now!Humph!
I got the BP sphygmomanometer from the drawer, only to find that the last reading showed up when I turned it on? With nit much to fiddle with, I determined that it was either knackered, or needed new batteries, so I replaced the old ones with Duracell newbies. I tried to use it again, the same thing, just the old figures appeared, no blank start-up screen. I wanted to cry, but didn’t bother! I’ll see what Amazon have on offer later. A bit annoying, cause now I cannot keep my recording record up to date for the nurse to collect each month.
Ah-well, I’ll get the Thermometer going. But No! That was not working either! I thought it would be fun to create the little expression that I sometimes use, in fact, it was Tim Price from New Mexico who gave me the idea: The mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’. But this morning, I’m beginning to believe it could be true!
I toyed with the ear-thermometer, but it didn’t have it. So, I got the stick-thermometer out and used that. It worked, and I took this photograph of the result.
Then, as I was about to put it back in medical drawer number three, where it is usually stored: Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary, instant, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I found myself doing some ballerina type dancing, as I fought not to go over, and lunged at the stove to steady my balance. At that second, I felt almost proud of myself for going over. The head swanked a bit sideways, and I think a smirk came across my face, as I realised this was only a short leg-dance, of a few seconds duration, and I had prevailed!
As soon as I’d caught my balance and turned back towards the stack of drawers… I felt it as I trod on the stick thermometer! Still not fully back to normal, I got the short picker-upperer to retrieve the obviously now bent, thermometer. I tried to straighten it up to try it out, to see if it was still working. Dead, deceased – not a cat-in-hells chance! Now I was on a downer of great proportions!
To add to this sudden nasty depression, I’ve got to get a new sphygmomanometer and thermometer! Frangleklops, Thunderglobberisations and Knackercraps! I was feeling morose, splenetic and crotchety! Worse than this, my EQ informed me that I had more let-down coming! I found I was monologuing with myself, Duodenal Donald started having a go at me, and hearing aid fell out?
But cunningly, it did not break, and it’s part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, and scare the hell out of Inchcock, thus assuring him a life of misery, worry and fear!’
Of course, it could be the Lord, making my life this unbearable unlucky hell, so that when the time comes for me to kick-the-bucket, I won’t mind so much? The day must be close then. That’s kind of him.
I took the much-belated medications and got on the computer to see what Amazon has on offer thermometers and hemadynamometers-wise at a bearable price. First thing I found was an email, telling that the order, which was to have been arriving Wednesday, then Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday, is going to be late. Hahahaha!
I found some fancy medical gear and ordered it.
Of course, the ‘Arriving Tomorrow’ can be taken with a-pinch-of-salt.
I had a ‘Your Area’ email, with the latest Coronavirus locally.
I got the Friday post finished off and posted to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps. Replied to some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. And as I went on CorelDraw, three things dawned on me: 1) I had not been for a wee-wee for hours! 2) Herbert was not making much noise, and 3) I’d had much hassle, I’d not got the ablutions done yet! And it was gone midday!
I hobbled off to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I tried the Kodak for the last time, to take a photo of the clouds on view. It came to pout all wrong again, compared to how it looked to the eyes, but then again, it could be the eyes, not the lens at fault?
I tried the BP sphygmomanometer again, not that I expected anything to work – and sod-me, it did! And I’ve just ordered a new one! But, knowing my luck, I shall still get the Amazon one, you never know what the aliens and ghosts are up to and planning in these flats!
Made the brew, and did a template for tomorrow in advance. And about twelve emails all came in at once! One was about the late, late order from Amazon. So, five days late, a proper date received… We’ll see!
I’ll check it out now. Whoops, this is not the original order I thought, but the thermometer order. Int life, confusing?
Shattered mentally now, I’ll get the nosh sorted. I think I’d spent the last of my mental energy preparing this dish. My taste-buds seem to have dwindled, but it still got a Taste-Rating of 7/10.
I got the things from the meal to soak in the kitchen bowl. And went in search of sleep.
Two hours later; mostly of suffering irreverent Thought-Storms, I still awaited Sweet Morpheous.
01:15hrs: I stirred, thinking of what needed to be tackled today. The need for a visit to the Porcelain Throne made my mind up for me. And almost nimbly, (well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration) I clambered out of the ageing ancient recliner, (we are well-matched) up onto my unbalanced legs, and had to sit in the swivel chair for a few seconds when Dizzy Dennis attacked. Luckily the need for the Throne was not too urgent. Phew!
Wowzah, it’s blooming cold this morning! Brrr! But not once I was inside the wetroom – I’d left the convector heater on in there again! This is going to cheer up the bank manager!
Now here this! Or, ‘Now hear this’, if you want it spelt right. Tsk! This session on the Throne was the easiest for many weeks! Yes, the Docusate sodium capsules, are working a treat! I shall not miss taking them, oh, no! I’d estimate that the pain was 40% less, far easier, and I had a modicum of control over the movement! Mega-Smug-Mode-Adopted!
Got a wash, fresh PPs on, and a dab of Germolid cream was applied. Off to the kitchenette, I wobbled. I took a photo of the morning view with the Canon camera, but I still don’t seem to able to get any decent shots lately, with any of the cameras? Fair enough, I know there are times when I’m shaking badly with the right hand and arm, maybe it is such small movements this morning, and I don’t realise it? But it’s so annoying! Ah, well, plenty of folks worse off than me.
Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and got the tablets ready for imbibing, then did the job of sphygmomanometering to get the BP readings. The Sys, and Dia though a bit high, were lower than yesterdays levels. Oh, and the pulse had come down, well.
The body temperature was well done, no idea why. Down to 32.7, or 32.1°c.
I’d got out a Macrogol sachet to make up, but when I read that one of the ingredients in the stool-softener capsules, is actually Macrogol? Now I’m a little confused. Do I take the Macrogol or not? I left it, to be on the safe side, I don’t want Trotsky Terence to come back.
I gt on the computer, well-determined, obsessed with getting some graphics and a template or two done today. But, as usual, I got sidetracked. I did the comment replying first, then along came Porcelain Throne demand, mark2!
Plenty of sneezing this morning.
To the Throne, but things didn’t start on there own this time. I got out the crossword book, tried a little pressure, and wallah! Things moved, and with such speed, I didn’t even get to read one clue in the crossword book, and it was all-over! Great! Marvellous! Wonderful!
I even found myself cleaning the porcelain when there was no need to! Old habits of the last three weeks or so of Constipation Conrad’s causing so much bleeding every visit to the Porcelain Throne was possibly the reason. Hahaha!
I made a fresh mug of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea, and got back on the computer, updating the Saturday post, and scribbling note of what happened today as I went along. Eventually, many hours later, I got it finished. All between many wee-wees!
Then I made up two templates, which took a long time, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept going offline, and so many corrections to be made. Cost me nigh-on three hours. Blurblecrups!
I went on the WordPress Reader section, then Facebook updating.
Then, the crap sad, overcharging sickening Liberty-Global, Virgin Media Internet went down!
I went to plan the meal for later. It will, I thought, be a Cannelloni Ragú. With tons of cheese on top, and some of Jenny’s yellow tomatoes as well. Ah, I’m out of bread again, with Iceland not sending any, so I had a dig in the freezer to get the packet of bread thins out to defrost. I could not believe it! What a Schmuck!
After taking everything to search for bread in the freezer, none there!
And then remembered I have to go to the chemist to pick up the antibiotic prescription.
And, I’ve not started on this blog yet.
It doesn’t matter about having any bread I can get some when the mobile shop arrives.
No, I can’t it’s Sunday today!
I must call Jane to see how they both are.
Did I take any Warfarin last night?
Will I get any graphics done before I fall asleep?
Yes, it was a Thought-Storm! Then the brain went on strike. It’s the only way to stop them sometimes, but reconnecting with reality and continuity afterwards, is no mean feat!
And it’s still damned cold! I’ll put the new warmer slippers on, that’s a good idea. Did I say a good idea?
Well, that wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I lost my balance getting the right slipper on the foot, then Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had a go at me, and my grasp on the swivel chairs arm and I gave my right ankle a decent bang against the Ottoman on my way down to the carpet! Right near the ankle ulcer.
Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. I merely laughed off the pain, jumped back up off of the floor, and went to check if the internet had come back on. Oy, Oy, Oy!
Alright then, I landed on my knees, which set off Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, that’s when I hit the ankle! I struggled to get back up, I considered calling Jenny and Frank, or pressing the wrist alarm, but was determined to get back up on my own. With the help of clinging on the recliner, the cushion came away, and I ended up on my bum again on the floor against the chair. With Harold’s Haemorrhoids in a right state, now. A second attempt, using the old fat chair, was successful, albeit a painful exercise. Now I’d had enough.
I got down in the computer chair and took the photo above of the leg, and the rain came heavier than ever. So I snapped that through the balcony windows as well.
I had to go to the wet room to clean up the blood; poor Harold had lost, washed up again, and applied generous proportions of the Germoloid ointment.
I was no longer interested if the internet was working or not, I turned off the machine and went to get something to eat, with an effort to get some sleep earmarked for afterwards, I can do the finishing of, hopeful in the morning or late tonight perhaps. I’ll how the sleep goes, but first, the meal must get prepared.
I rang Jane as I was getting the meal sorted and into the oven. I put a thick layer of strong cheese on top of the Cannelloni Ragú, along with many slices of Jenny-supplied home-grown yellow tomatoes. Got it in the oven.
Bad connection, lost her twice and had to ring back. Poor Jane has still lost the sight in her left eye. This week, they both have hospital visits. Pete for his cancer treatments, Jane for here vision and Cluster Headaches. We are a right-set between us. But they seem to be coping well with their problems, I do so hope things can get easier for them. We managed a bit of memory delving and a smile twixt ourselves.
I had to depart the long and enjoyable call, to get the fodder out of the oven.
It looked okay to me. I confirmed this when I ate it with a baked bean pastie. A worthy taste rating of 7.8/10 given.
I did no washing up, I was feeling low after the internet went down, but would have been worse if not for talking with Jane and Pete.
I got a Jonathan Creek DVD on, headphones on, and kept nodding, waking and rewinding for ages, then decided to give up. As I took off the headset, the door chimes rang out.
Being half asleep and in a confused state, my mind told me it was Josie returning the meal plate and things. (Not realising unitl I saw who it was, that it was Saturday and I’d not made her meal yet, Tsk!)
It was the Sainsbury order that I’d forgotten all about. What a dimwit!
The delivery lady was very patient with me. She put the goods in the box for me, bless her.
I got the stuff into the kitchen, and I was pleased to see that the chilli-con-carni and costly rediculusy overpriced, but tasty pickled eggs had arrived with the other things. No potato farls or bread, though. I left every thing laying about anywhere and got back in the c1968 recliner.
