03:10hrs: I woke with a melee of mixed memories from the dreams I’d been having, floating about in my head. But they soon dissipated off into the ether.
As I got my thoughts into some form of semi-imitation, logic-wiseness, and the mind became less saccadic, I spotted the notepad and pen on the floor in front of the £300, second-hand, immedicable, beyond repair, c1968 recliner. The long picker-upper was used to retrieve the articles.
I’d scribbled endless reminders over several pages of the writing pad (not that I can remember doing so). Hundreds of words, with about ten of them readable! Humph! By all accounts, I had dreams all through the night, but working out what they were about was impossible. Although I was not surprised to identify the words chasing and chased. So annoying. Because for me to have bothered writing about them, they could well of been interesting and worth recording? Fangleklops!
As I struggled out of the rickety recliner and caught my balance on the far too painful overgrown toenailed feet, a wee-wee was required. Got the stick, and a few hobbled paces to the EGPB (Emergency-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) It was well-filled, but can I remember using it at all? No! A definite change in style this morning, and colour as well. The FFFOCES (Fast-Furious-Forceful-Orange-Coloured-Ending-Abruptly) mode.
I took the bucket with me to the wet room, to clean and antisepticise it, and wash my hands. While doing so, the need for the Porcelain Throne duties arose.
This session, was without any doubt, the most painful Throne Session for weeks! Oh dearie me, yes! Constipation Konrad was in total control of all movements. Twice, things came to a very painful full-stop, and all I could do was wait in agony for movement to restart.
At what I believed was the last thunderous plop, the relief was almost exhausting! But this was not a eucatastrophe. For, Constipation Konrad, decided to activate again! Argh! Felt drugged and drunk after the activity finally stopped!
I got things cleansed, and spruced-up, and dropped the towel down by the WC. I bent down to pick it up. Which, in itself was a stupid thing to do, with the small picker-upperer hanging inches away on the seat-raiser, and not used! I fell forwards with a little encouragement from Dizzy Dennis and caught my tackle against the corner bar. Started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding! I had to go through the painful process of cleaning and medicating the lesion, and it was almost too much for me to cope with. AAArgh! Distinguableness!
And to think, a few minutes ago, I was moaning to myself because I couldn’t remember the dreams I’d had. I had to sit down for a minute or two. Changed the PP’s and medicated all delicate areas in need. The now getting thinner than ever, pins (legs) looked a lot better, at least. It’s a good job I accidentally bought the last pair of slippers a size too much. (Silver-Lining search result)
Not the best of starts to the day! This morning’s series of Whoopsiedangleplops, along with the hobble-incapacitating toenails and feet, and Dizzy Dennis not yet finished with me, I took my farraginous worries with me to the kitchen.
I got the kettle on and amassed the medicinal needs. The hemadynamometer readings were okay, I think, Sys 164, Dia 68, Pulse 77. The thermometer is still playing up and not showing any figures, just ‘Low.’ I got the medications taken, adding a Senna and took Macrogol drink (will I ever beat Constipation Konrad, Hehe!) Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed Saccades liquid in the eyes, and made a brew of Morrison Extra Strong Assam tea.
I almost felt ready to get my head down again! Hahaha!
I got the updating of the Thursday post done, in between several trips to the wet room for a Wee-wee. (Well, the exercise will do me good!) Incidentally, the wee-wees are starting of a sort of misty-grey, and turning into a bright orange now? Ah, the mysterious wonders of 72, Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, ailments, self-locking and now unopenable new balcony door lock, 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; ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’!
I went on the WordPress reader. Then I answered a comment. Next, I put some pics on Pinterest. Finally, on TFZ and Winwood Facebooking for ages, but I like it.
Then:
Thankfully it was short-lived and didn’t need any action for it to come back to life. Phew!
I made a start on this blog. Then got the ablutions tended to, in case the mobile shop comes. The session went very well. One tiny nick shaving, No toe-stubbing, No dizzies, No leg dancing, and nothing was knocked down or over! But after having at least fifteen dropsies, mind. Yer can’t win ’em all. Hehehe!
I nipped down to the ground floor lobby, to check on the time for the mobile shop to arrive on site. 11:00hrs (I thought)
Back up to the apartment, and updating this post. I was about to go down to wait for the shop, and Sister Jane rang. I said I’d ring her back.
I expected to see some residents waiting for the food van, but not a soul about? I took the opportunity, to have a walk up and down Chestnut Walk, taking some photographs of each of the Courts.
Woodthorpe & Winchester Courts with a piece of Winwood Court, and Woodthorpe again.
On my way back to the foyer, some of the Nottingham City Homes lads, who restarted work this week, along with some Water Control chaps were working away.
They sensibly had signs asking folks to keep to the Social Distancing guidelines. Gloves and masks worn.
As I was going back in to keep warm during my wait for the food van, I bet Betty, and she looked gobsmacked when I told her I was waiting for the shop. Telling me, with a sideways look that said (Quiet rightly), The old Fool! That it is not due until 12:00 hours! Red-faced, embarrassed and feeling a right Klutz! I checked on the notice board in the lift lobby, and sure enough, it was 12:00hrs!
How I misread it the first time, is hard to understand, even for me. I sank a little towards the darkness, and felt even more of a dimwit than usual! That takes some doing, yer know!
I rang Sister Jane back. Asking her to phone me on the landline, which is much clearer than the mobile. Not a lot, many times I have difficulty with the reception from West Bridgford. Especially being on their new Galaxy S20 Ultra 128BG 5G, £1,290 mobiles. Not that I am jealous of course. I’d only get confused with them. I’ve gone back to my old 1982 Nokia 100. And can get in a muddle with that. Hahaha!
Jane rang me back, it was hard to make out what she said at times, and she usually comes over the line clearer than anyone, apart from Obergruppenfüreress Warden Deana. We had a chinwagging session that I enjoyed. Even the telling offs. T’was good!
Still, she and Pete sounded in good form. I got carried away time-wise and had to cut things short, to get down again and not miss the mobile shop, it’s the first time I’ve used it. Sorry, Jane.
I put the oven on, to warm up for later.
I rushed about and got myself down in the lift with the old three-wheeler, and Steve the caretaker and some resident (I knew them but could not recall the names, as is usual for me) And greeted them, and a few people were scattered about at a safe distance waiting. They moved outside as 12:00hrs was approached. I still managed a bit of nattering again.
When the van came, at ten-past twelve, Roy, Betty and Lynne were waiting, and when the van opened up, they all kindly waved my forward to go first. Now, this might sound soppy, but I appreciated that a lot. The legs, feet and toes were all giving me some hassle, and Shaking Shaun was visiting now. Bless them!
I got to the window in the van with my four item shopping list. I bought 4 tomatoes, no tarts, so I got a pack of apple pies (Just as naughty as the tarts, Hehe!), a bottle of disinfectant, a can of deodorant. For £6 odd. Fair enough, it was brought to the flat doors almost. Thanked him, the kind residents behind me for allowing me to go first, and made my way back to the flat.
I very nearly an Accifauxpas, as I got the trolley part-stuck, as I was getting into the apartment, and the weed for a wee-wee was becoming urgent! Somehow or other, I got the porcelain in time.
This time, a totally different mode of wee-weeing performed. An SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy), almost cloudy grey? The pee-pees were puzzling me today! I’ve drunk far-less tea, and no orange juice at all yet, but still the passings come? Just a thought!
I updated this blog again and got some nosh cooking. I decided on bacon and sliced tomato bread thin sarnies! With some cheese discs.
Shagglemuffins! I’d not turned the power-socket on to the stove! Grrr, Nebekh! Got the oven warming up, again. And went on CorelDraw to make some graphics.
Bacon now baked, tomatoes sliced, cheese and two Marmite Riced cakes, and brown thins, a lemon mousse, medications and a mug of orange juice all got ready on the tray. Off to and on my knees and more-than-ample belly in the recliner. Flavour Rating; 8.5/10, it went down very well, my coenaculous, satisfied!
I always think of TFZer Lyzzi when I eat off of this plate. T’was she who sent it to me, bless her!
Got the pots washed, had a wee-wee, washed and medicated, and back down in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Noticed the veins in the right leg, and thought it was fattening up, or filling up with fluid a smidge. Also, a fresh pinkish whatever was coming up on the foot. Fingers crossed that it is not the start of another leg ulcer. No itching or pain from it at all.
Most amazingly, there were no Thought-Storms at all!
03:30hrs: I came back to imitation life, with my body sat on, as opposed to laying on the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured rickety recliner, that my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete broke when he was flat raiding and stealing my valuables while I was in the hospital. (I must remember to ask him for them back, but I might as well talk to the wall) My feet rested on the serving tray on the floor. Crumbs and bits of bread were stuck to my feet, trapped in the folds of my pharaonically-sized stomach folds, and I even fund some in my right ear-hole! What the deuce had I been doing overnight? What a moyshe kapoyer I am!
As some focus, brain usage and limited concentration came back on-line, memories were triggered. I recollected eating the meal and falling asleep with the tray on my knee last night with the prospect of the much-absent sleep dawning, I drifted off… But by gum, I needed it! I got five hours in. Mind you, how long I spent nocturnally wandering and rearranging things in the room, I don’t know.
I took a rather surprisingly ferocious wee-wee. Then off to the wet room with the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) to be emptied and cleaned and disinfected. I was caught-out again when I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, having been twice yesterday, and needing another. A painful session, and so bloody! So, more cleaning and sanitising were required.
I decided to leave the cleaning up of the bread crumbs until later, when I could use the hoover, without disturbing any neighbours sleep. To the kitchen.
Notwithstanding Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I took the medications, pain gelled poor old Arthur Itis’s knees and Shaking Shoulder Shirley’s scapular. Olive-oiled, the ear holes, sprayed Saccades eyes. The over-the-counter Haemorrhoid cream was used. The nasal spray used, and the Vaseline was applied to my cracked lips. Then, with gritted teeth; I grabbed and squeezed a clump of my sizeable, flabby dominated stomach area, and stuck the Enoxaparin filled hypo. Pushing in the warm, tingling mixture of Enoxaparin – Formula (C26H40N2O36S5)n: Which is metabolised in the liver into low molecular weight species by either or both desulfation and depolymerisation. I wanted to sound clever here and copied this off of the leaflet that was in the box. Of course, I knew all of this before… Hahaha!
Then made a brew of my beloved Thompson Punjana tea. A warm glow came over me, as I remembered getting the new stock, along with some Glengettie in from Amazon yesterday and now have enough to last me for a good while. A gratifying, and almost exhilarating feeling!
I did try to use the Pill-Splitter again on the large 80 mg Atorvastatin boulder… I mean tablet. But just as when I have tried before, the ‘Splitter’ could not cut it, the blade got bent and distorted when I tried to use it. Most disappointing, I had to imbibe the crushed bits of tablet and powder left, by licking my licking and dabbing my finger to get it. Hahaha! So, I now have a tablet-crusher instead of splitter! Hey-ho!
I got on the computer and soon had the Thursday Inchcock Today updated and finished. Thanks, mainly to Nicodemus, Shirley and Shaun all being so remarkably calm?
I made up a template for this post. And went to make a brew and get some caramelised biscuits to nibble and dunk in the Glengettie tea filled mug. I took the pictures below from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, anti-photographer designed new windows that let the rain in.
This mist lingered on for a few more hours. Then as I got back with the brew, I thought I’d do a search for the Coronavirus updates on the web.
I got an odd feeling as I did so, Sister Janet was coughing? I don’t know where this came from, but it concerned me, and it is too early to call her yet. She is not an early bird. I’m getting the shpilkes about this!
I had a look up at the latest figures for the pandemic on Google. They are here on the right-hand side. They make bleak reading.
The fact that the USA has a population of 328.2 million, and the UK a total of 66.27 million, shows that we are being hit a lot worse?
I am well known for my mathematical incompetence, suffering from Athrithobia and numerophobia (although I am not affected by hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia), and am having difficulty in working this out. I’ll have a go at the calculator.
No, it’s just not there. The mind blanks arrive when I try to figure things out numerically. Humph! Back in my school days, I’d have got the cane, several clouts around the head, or both for not being able to get this worked out. I worked my way through the fear, and at one time, in Tesco in Duckworth Square in Derby, where I was cashing up 24 tills, and dealing with the Green Shield Stamps issue, without a problem. Then the stroke arrived, and since then, I have been struggling back with the phobia! Humph!
I waffled on there again, sorry!
I went on the WordPress reader. Then on CorelDraw, but got a lot of bother with the workings of the programme, and gave up. Did some TFZer Facebooking.
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the pressed door buzzers. Aha! It was an Amazon delivery. I now have stocks of the wonderful Gengettie and Thompsons Punjana tea, Marmite individual pots, pots of porridge, and the bitter-tasty San Benedetto Clementine juice, to last me hopefully all through the rest of the lockdown (I hope).
I’m getting short of places to store things again in the kitchen. The unused bedroom (Junkroom), is getting over-filled again. But I have teabags, some bleach, toilet rolls, bamboo socks, kitchen towels and preciously, a load of PPs (thanks to my mate Michael) in there now! Only the medications need serious attention now. Jenny helped me again with some antiseptic and corticosteroid cream.
I got on the computer again, CorelDraw is really causing me problems, never mind Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying-off, bother me as well! Grumph! Had to give up again.
The current situation with Amazon outstanding orders are, I think:
Friday: Nasal and eye spray.
Saturday: Another box of 24 Benedetto Clementine drinks might come as well. I looked up Benedetto, expecting it to be an area of Italy. It came out as Blessed, or Saint Benedict of Nursia (480–547), often called the founder of Western Christian monasticism. I don’t know why I bothered telling you that?
Thursday 16th -20th: Trousers. Both of the last two pairs bought from the market have holes in the pockets, the linings have split open or both! I don’t want to go out after such a long time and get accused of flashing. Hehehe!
I received a call from a pleasant-sounding lady from Direct something or other. NCC, as was the man who called yesterday. I was finding it difficult to hear all of the words spoken. And remembering everything is not easy. I thought I’m written something down about it, but cannot find any note? Reflux Roger, and Stuttering Stephanie, along with Deno deafness, all made things difficult for me.
But the lady was very kind and patient. And I’m sure I did much more of the talking than she did. It was so lovely to talk to someone who listened. I told her my life story almost, in between stuttering, gasping for breath and hiccuping. Hahaha! This was the highlight of the day for me. I gave her my blog name, and she said she’d have a look. No actionable help was needed at the moment with the shopping, I thanked her for calling.
Much more verbiage was bantered and shared, but with the state of my memory, it’s not easy to recall. The most annoying thing is there may have been something important to record. Making me more agravannoyed with myself for losing the note I wrote!
I got the meal sorted out. Nothing like I thought it was going to be earlier on. Algerian tomatoes (Crap!), McCains oven chips (Horrible!), Baxter’s beetroots (Bland!), a cheese lump (lousy, insipid), Buttered bread and smoked ham Dry, tasted aged, the butter was greasy?), A shame, I thought I just might be coming down with a cold, and that has affected my taste-buds? Even the apple was crumbly and floury! Saving grace? The apple pies and the can of the tangy, bitter-tasting clementine juice, I liked them! Flavour rating; 4/0. I didn’t eat anywhere near all of it.
I got washing-up done and fleetingly thought of the possibility of my doing the handwashing. (I didn’t!)
Got settled down in the £300, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, second-hand, not-working, Broken by my xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete. At the same time, he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and stealing all my valuables). With a bottle of spring water, some yoghourt covered cashew nuts, and the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) disinfected and nearby in readiness for later use.
It really was heaven, as the eyelids drooped, with the promise of the rare and resistant sleep, was on its way. But no! I’d forgotten to take the evening medications! Reluctantly, I clambered out of the chair, grabbed the four-pronged stick and hobbled to the medical drawers and got out the medicines. Took the tablets, then, medicines. (No Enoxaparin injections due again now until further notice). Got earholes olive-oiled. Sprayed Saccades-Sandra’s eyes. Nasal sprayed the nose and throat. Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees. Had a gargle of TCP for the sore throat.
Got the Clobetasone Butyrate cream, and went to the wet room to clean up Little Inchies fungal lesion and applied the cream (I usually do this in the WC room, cause my screams of agony cannot be heard and disturb my neighbours with the door shut). This is the second most painful of my medicalisationing sessions.
Occasionally, the Sock-Glide battles can be just as bad. I don’t know who designed these, but obviously, they did not give a thought to anyone with the shakes or dizzy ailments and might be averse to losing finger ends, blood blisters, stubbed toes, and to having lumps of flesh torn from their legs! It may have been Jack the Ripper, or Dr Harold Shipman?
I freshened up and returned to the uncomfortable old recliner, and settled again.
As per regular nightly, the Thought-Storms began, and during this session. I wondered if I left the tap on in the bathroom or even the sink? It was ghost-like, weary, frustrated Inchcock, who somehow or other, forced his elephantine stomached body up on its feet again and limped to check on the taps, lights, stove etc. top make sure all was safe. I don’t think this is an Obsessive-compulsive disorder OCD. It seems to be from my lack-of-confidence base? There must be a word for it. Anyway, all was okay. I got another bottle of spring water and returned to the, that by now, seems to be laughing at me, recliner. Hahaha!
The lighter nights, crap on the TV, and my unsettled state of mind were all preventing my nodding off! I lay for hours, I even considered counting sheep!
All the tossing about and moving trying to get in a comfortable position to encourage sweet Morpheus to take over my body and mind; must have cracked open Little Inchies fungal lesion! For I felt the warm wet trickle from the lower regions. Again, crying was an option, but anger was a stronger emotion! Why me?
Yet again, I got up, trying to keep calm and not have a tumble or bang into any furniture or door frames, off I poddled, chin-low, bottom lip wobbling and feeling sorry for myself! I got in the wet room and went through the usual dreaded medicationalisationing procedure. The pain didn’t seem so bad this time, that was because the leaf had not had time to harden, I assume. This actually took my Fed-Up-Defcon from2, down top Defcon3! Hehe!
Now, as I was going into the hall, I think I had a bit of good luck! (Yes, it can happen, it did in 1952 as I recall). I caught the right middle toe, stubbed against the bar of the clothes airer – and felt nothing! Obviously, this may be part of the reason that the cleaning and medication of the lesion, was far less painful, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were obviously not working! And this warned me to take extra care when touching anything solid or hard, and not rely on getting any sensation or feedback! Thus, I was going to make a brew of tea, but I stopped my plans. Who knows for sure, nobody, but it may have stopped me getting scolded!
Of course, it did nothing to help me get to sleep! I carefully made my way back to the imagined grinning at me now, recliner. I put the TV on, and to my greatest pleasure, Red Dwarf was just starting! Then I found out another episode was following. No problem with staying awake tonight. Old seen-before ones, of course, but I so enjoyed watching them.
It must have been around 02:00hrs when I had to get up to use the wee-bucket. Accident-free, I got back in the chair and fell asleep! And had a dream-ridden kip for three-hours or so. Every little help’s! It was well-gone 0500hrs by then.
00:05hrs: I stirred into ersatz life with a Thought-Storm. But I think the frontal and parietal lobes were at odds with each other, and one of them refused to get involved? Hehe! For it was all over in a minute or so? Then the noise from outside caught my wandering attention. Not, for once, the ‘Hum’, but the wind and rain hitting the windows. (Mind you, the horrible hum returned as soon as the rain stopped later!) Storm Jorge, I presume? This tells me that the reason for the ‘Hum’, unknown to man and science, is related to the weather and or atmosphere? I considered emailing the Government to advise them of my thought? No, maybe not.
The old brain has kicked back into action again! I’d better take things slowly today. Not that there’s much choice, though. I’ve got tons to catch up with on the Computerisationing side. Mind you, Saturday’s are the best day for it, I don’t usually see anyone, so I decided to remove my heavily-ladened stomach and body from the rickety recliner and get on with things. A trace of willpower and determination crept in there – steady on, Inchy! Careful now!
I was caught out by my unsteadiness when I rose to grab the stick. But it didn’t last for long, thankfully. A took a couple of paces, and the innards started to rumble and grumble, so I diverted from the kitchen to the wet room.
It was a good job that I did! The evacuation once again started of its own accord! I must tell the Doctor about this on my next visit for the test results. However, the session was one of the easiest and least painful I’d had in weeks, no messiness either! I reckon today, that has already shown up some changes, differences and surprises, is going to be a day of them?
As I was making my first essential, crucial, vital, imperative brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, I noticed the lack of stinging from the right legs Sock-Glide injuries. So, I whipped down the jammie-bottoms and took a look, then this photo of them. It’s amazing how things seem to clear up so quickly on the right side of the body lately. Great stuff!
Got the medications out, took them with spring water and then mashed the tea.
It seemed to be going okay this morning. Which, of course, made me get my Worry-Bonnet on. It’s not Kosher for things to go well for me, almost paranormal! I tried to enjoy things while they lasted, but an irritating uncomfortableness and expectancy of failure, misunderstandings and/or cock-ups lingered! I can’t help it!
I had another determined deep time-consuming search for the collapsable walking stick, but no luck. I wonder if I gave it to someone? Did I break it? Anyroad, I decided to buy another one. Went on Amazon. I also ordered a long picker-upperer at the same time. Both to be delivered on Sunday. Hopefully, the same thing won’t happen to either again this time. I’ll try not to lose this collapsable walking-stick, keep it in the trolley-walker. And the picker-upper, I will try not to leave where the walking stick goes, then I won’t mistake it for a walking-stick, get a dizzy-on and break it falling over! (Life can be a challenge you know. [Cry of sarcastic, mirth!])
I eventually got around to computerisationing! It felt like I’d been up for hours already… hang-on, I had! Tsk! I started on the Friday blog updating. It took me a few hours with all the photos I’d made. But my persistency paid off, and it was finally finished and posted off!
I made another brew and got the mushroom in the crock-pot with some black-bean sauce, sea salt, and a drop of Balsamic vinegar as flavourings added.
Herbert above did a bit of banging about, but no complaints, it took my mind temporarily off of the renewed howling of the ‘Hum’! Grrr!
I then made up a pictorial post with chronically bad rhyming comments. This took hours as well. But, I do enjoy it as long as someone gets a laugh, even a smile out of them. Sent that off as well.
On to the WordPress Reader. Then a few comments. Next on TFZer Facebooking and putting on photographs. Getting late now, the fatigue is setting in.
I’ll get the nosh sorted out. The plan is, if all works out, Rice with BBQ seasoning, and mushrooms with garden peas. I’ll see if I have any meat to go with it.
Back in a bit… I hope…
No meat in stock, hang on, I’ve got some frozen sausages in the fridge, I’ll use them! Hangeth on again, I’ve not done a top graphic and template for tomorrow yet. Better get on CorelDrawing. Dearie dearie me, no rest!
Gorrit dun at last! On wiv the fodder preparation!
A messy job, with lots of pots and pan cleaning afterwards. But, worth it, despite how weary and done-in I felt. The rice I’d flavoured with Hoisin and BBQ seasoning, added garden peas, the mushrooms (cooked with black bean sauce), and some black beans. Sausages from the freezer, a pot of lemon fool, and wallah!
I really did enjoy it. Taste Rating: 7/10.
I went to finish off the soaking saucepans, cutlery and bits with the dish.
I suppose it was inevitable, what with having such an almost Whoopsiedangeplop-free day up to now. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, a bowl of dirty washing up water ended up, over me, the sink unit and the floor! It was a grind sorting things out and mopping, during which Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna burst into tormenting life! It was not a good situation at all. I’d got Toothache Tim as well coming on, and my mood sank into a depth of… well, dejection, a strong sense that I can do nothing right, and am worthless.
Then the Thought -Storming started: Disrespect of myself, the new ailments, an inability to see how I’m going to cope, no one to talk to, no time to get things done, past indiscretions and mistakes… Oh, yes, they were all flowing into the brain-box tonight!
After I’d completed the cleaning up, I was stood leaning against the four-pronger-stick, looking out at the unwelcoming skies and sinking even further into the quagmire of negativity. The brain, I think went into neutral, in rejection of my pathetically inept thoughts perhaps? I took this photograph without really realising why. Maybe the brain told me to, in an effort for me to see how weak and confused I had suddenly become?
The mind was floating from one subject to another, none of them encouraging. Then, like turning on the light-switch, the rumbling, grumbling and stinging came from the innards. Ah, the Porcelain Throne was needed! So, I swapped walking sticks and visited the wet room. Now, my changing to the wooden stick first, was surprising, in the state my brain was, I still remembered about the times I had tripped over the four-pronger in the past when visiting the Porcelain.
I got settled on the Throne, and for the first time in several days, the evacuation did ‘Not’ start on its own! I had regained control! This made me feel a little more confident, and I brightened up a tad. Painful, yes, but these movements always are for me, and with a bit of effort, I forced things along. I was feeling rather good now! Not up to Smugness-Mode yet, but an improvement on how I felt ten-minutes ago. Then I discovered a lot of bleeding going on from the rear-end. Any worries eased, when I realised it was via Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so no panic Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was not leaking! Cleaning things up, washed, medicated with the Germolene and Anusol creams, and changed PPs, getting the night attire on at the same time.
I exited the wet room, feeling terribly guilty at me getting myself in a pickle and depressed earlier on, in the first place.
I got settled in the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He searched for my valuables, which he found and stole.
Within seconds of turning on the TV to see what was on offer, and my woolgathering, dithering mind decided it could not recall if I had turned off the kitchen and wet room taps, cooker etc. and I just had to get up again to make sure things were okay. Which was a flipping good thing I did! I’d left the light on in the wet room, and the tap on in the kitchen! Phew!
I got back down in the grungy-beige-coloured, none-working recliner. Turned off the TV, feeling confident that feeling so weary now, I’d soon nod-off. But again, sleep was not coming quickly. But my usually aggravating peace of mind was more relaxed now, even with the frustration of not nodding off! Hehe!
01:15hrs: I woke with the mind doing ut own thing again, and I genuinely feared the worst. Yet, within a few minutes, I was battling out of the £300 second-hand recliner, had urged and forced my misshaped, wobbly mass of a body onto its feet, and did few moves, bends and wriggles to test out the ailments, and was in recent form, I thought, anyway.
Arthur Itis and Saccades-Sandra apart. All the other indispositions, discombobulations ailments and infirmities, were friendly and calm with me. Naturally, this did not last for too long. AS I moved towards the kitchen, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. (Back to normal, which is not a bad thing). So, I diverted, and within about ten paces, I was in the wet room. Bearing in mind yesterdays farcical Whoopsiedangleplop, I made sure that the stick was not left anywhere I trip over it, this time.
The evacuation almost had me cheering! It was that good! Not too big, not painful at all! And hardly any effort needed. No getting half-way and needing painful encouragement. And not messy! As I stood to do the necessary ‘paperwork’, I found there was no bleeding from the rear either!
Then I saw the drips of blood on the floor. I knew straight away, it had to be from Little Inchies fungal lesion, and it was. Heck of a state to medicate and clean.
To the kitchen and took some Moon photos.
I made some tea and took the medications. Then got the updating of the blog done. The saving was failing a few times, but this time, I thought it might be a WordPress problem? The updating took ages, mostly through having to keep stopping for Saccases-Sandra to clear. Many hours after starting, I got it finished. Phew!
08:00hrs, I went on the WordPress Reader. Then on the TFZer Facebooking. Time is my most significant bother nowadays. It takes so long to get anything done, my lack of mobility, the Neurotransmitters dying, the brain struggles to hold information, and physical activity takes so much time and is painful sometimes. The mind and body are reaching my capability and copeability level methinks.
After which, I spent many more hours on graphicationalising. Everything was taking so long to get done, with Sandra playing up, but at least the Fungal lesion didn’t open up again.
Eventually, I got started on this post. The time flew by. I went to see Josie, to check with her that she would like the Tuna with Coronation mayonnaise. But she was not in. I did some more graphicalisationing.
I ought to get the ablutions done, it’ so late now, head-down time is due.
I’d been doing the bit of cooking needed in-between computer work while Sandra was in a bad mood with me. The day has magically almost gone?
I turned everything off and got the ablutions tended to. I called on Josie again first, while I’d got clothes on. No answer again.
The legs looked a bit different again, but not bad at all. I decided to stop and get the handwashing done first, then I can Josie again before getting the ablutions done. The washing completed, and off to the wet room. Called on Josie, no luck.
The ablutions produced many dropsies. No proper Whoopsies, though. Another call on Josie, no luck. I checked on the Special tomatoes. I shan’t be eating them today.
Then got another silly idea, I could order some saucepans from Amazon. So I did. Coming tomorrow. So, another day indoors.
Got the nosh prepared and served up. I got settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, got the TV on.
As I was taking the first fork of food, the phone flashed into life. Unbelievable, the times this happens!
It was the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital. A very kind lady, asking about my problems, questioning me on various things, in an effort to understand why Warfarin levels were so unsteady. It was lovely to have someone to talk to about medical issues. Especially being as pleasant and patient with me as this lady was. The conversation kept getting broken up by my having to ask her to repeat things I didn’t pick-up, again she was alright and unbothered by this. Bless Her! She will send me an Email with her address on, so I have it and can message her with the results of the Doctors meeting and any changes of importance. I felt honoured and well cared for.
Back to the stone-cold meal, not that there was much to harm. Only the mushrooms, garden peas and potatoes were heated anyway.
Although cold, I still enjoyed it. Smashing! A taste rating of 8/10. Perhaps the joy of speaking to someone who understood and sympathised had put me on a high? But sleep was again late in coming, although the Thought-Storms kept off.
23:30hrs: I have never woken-up so non-plussed, discountenanced, and feeling so wish-washy before in my life! (No… I tell a fib, when I came round after the heart operation it was worse!)
I rose from the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. Then posted off his pools coupon and won a fortune, that complimented his £2010 grand Lottery win. He retired at 40, the windfall of being left £84,000 by an unknown relative enabled this. He’s a lucky lad.
A few things registered when I was on my way for the first wee-wee. The bloody ‘Hum’ all around the place, was louder than ever! Arthur Itis, Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna were all in a fantastic mood with me this morning, almost pain-free? But the mind was still a touch out-of-order, refusing to grasp things or allow me to concentrate.
The wee-wee, was, as all that followed were, of the SHLSDTAT (Starting-Hosepipe-Like-Suddenly-Dying-To-A-Trickle) variety. To the kitchen to take the medications. Brewed a mug of tea, Glenghettie, and started to update the Friday blog. Within minutes, summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet room. Well, it seemed a good idea, that being where the toilet is, Hehehe!
This session was not one of the better ones for many reasons. I’ll tell you. The blood flowed far too much from Harolds Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, (Which incidentally, was not bleeding during the wee-wee?) The amount of evacuated product was so much, that the system failed to clear it. Admittedly, there was an awful lot of bloodied toilet paper as well. I ended up after a bit of failed prodding with the brush, having to refill the tank, twice, to clear things. Even now, I’m not sure it has all gone. The cleaning up, disinfecting, tidying things and refreshing the air, took ages. Still, it had to be done!
Back to the computerisationing. I had to make two templates from scratch, this took me well over an hour. Then there were the photographs to prepare to go in the blog. Add these to my lack of concentration, and it was gone 07:00hrs by the time I’d got it finished and posted off! Two good things, though; The peripheral neuropathy and autonomic nerves were not too much bother at all! Amazing!
I felt as if it was time to get my head down. Partly because of the confused state of mind, and the fact that I did actually feel drained. Why? I decided to give myself a break. Made a mug of tea, got some bikkies and drank and nibbled while doing nowt at all.
Well, that was a brilliant idea, Dizzy Dennis came onto me witin seconds. Thought I was going to tip out of the chair.
Back on the computer and things steadied? I went on the WordPress Reader.
And in the middle of enjoying the TFZer Facebooking, I took a turn for the worse. Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Anne Gyna, Duodenal Donald, and Saccades Sandra join in together to give me a scare.
That’s it for me, medications and a sit down see how I go.
I soon nodded-off, and woke up about five hours later, around midnight. An empty dinner plate at my side, the camera between my legs, and bits of quavers on my ample stomach? Amazingly I still felt tired, but so much better than earlier, Dennis lingered a smidge, but all the other attackers had fled my body. I felt so good physically!
I went for a wee-wee, and I needed the Throne when I got there. I think I might have visited the porcelain earlier, judging by the things, sprays, Germolene etc. scattered on the floor. The session was okay; if a little painful.
There were no recollections of anything really, between sitting myself down and waking up. Very unsettling. But entertaining in a way, for after taking the medications and making a brew, I got the computer going, and found the camera card in the reader? I investigated the SD card; and found a picture of a meal that I had no idea I’d planned, made or eaten? No dirty saucepans, plates anywhere. Even the tray was clean? The evening medications were on the tray in the photo, but it’s all a mystery to me. Hehehe!
23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…
23:57hrs: I woke up for real, and realised I’d been dreaming. I think I was enjoying having a fit body again, drinking the Guinness in the none-existent bath… but reality had to be faced. And oddly enough, the first thing I did, was to pass-wind, but only a sort ‘Phutt-Phutt’ job. Which did bring on the demand for the Porcelain Throne for real!
I had to cajole Arthur Itis into letting me get my legs off of the chair, he’s been so kind to me yesterday over the tumble. So he was due a little fun with me. Having achieved the first proper challenge, I faced the standing up and catching my balance routine. Not too bad, a bit of a wobble, but I got up, and then had to rush a bit, to get to the outbound salvation room in time. The evacuation went well, minimal bleeding. Arthur Itis was not willing to get up again off of the throne. I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. I olive-oiled the ear-holes, washed and off to the kitchen, with Arthur twinging away at me.
Made a brew and did the washing up from last night. And got the computer going. But…
I made a start by creating this post from scratch, I must get some more graphics done, today! After an hour or so, the craving for another mug of tea arrived. At the same time, as the flood of wee-wees began. Far too many to keep mentioning, most of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) variety. As I was bringing the tea to the computer, the stomach started gurgling, aching and hurting. I naturally assumed that Throne Session number two was required, but no, nothing but wind and a particularly foul odour escaped.
Back to the computer and then started updating the Tuesday blog. Due to the overpaid and rated Mr Fries inabilities and uncaring attitude towards his ever-paying-more, customers, this took me a long time to get done! Many wee-wees activated as I worked away.
I went to make another brew, this time Glenghettie Gold. Took the medications.
And tried my bestest to get a decent photographicalisation of the high in the sky moon. I was not over-successful as it happened. The reasons for this failure being, I think; 1) The moving clouds. 2) The neurotransmitter sensory nerves failing, causing trembling and shaking of the right hand and arm. 3) My not knowing what the heck I was doing. Haha! The first two were taken on Auto-Mode. The others in Nightime Panorama, no, Landscape!
I read and replied to some WordPress comment, and then post pictures to Pinterest. Then went on the WordPress Reader section, but before I could start, Porcelain Throne Session numb er Two arrived, so, off to the wet room.
This Throne session was not so good. Messy, slow, hard work, bleeding and exhausting! But, I recovered alright. After a clean-up and some more medicationalisationing, I returned to the WP Reader perusing.
Well, I have to go on CorelDraw for a mammoth graphic-creating session for the upcoming blogs. I’ll make another brew first.
Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.
I got the nosh on. I ended up going for the luxury (Expensive) can of roast gammon, to go in the stew I was making, well, a type of stew. Onions, peas, tomatoes, and potatoes were broiled together and nearly ready, so I put in the can of ham, and got it stirred in well. As I was doing this, Shaking Shaun came all over me, with what I was sure was a neuropathic drop-something and flail-about dance coming on the right leg! When, the door-bell chimed, Huh! Not the best of timing, I thought, with me still in my jammies, unshaven, and shaking-all-over so’s to put it.
I made sure the thin dressing gown was not revealing anything for someone to laugh at en route to the door, and everything changed the instant I saw my old mate Michael stood there, looking tired, but happy! (I was probably more delighted at seeing Mike)
I welcomed him, and the nattering started, which didn’t stop for over an hour he was here. I felt years younger. As the whole kit and caboodle of worries, concerns and fears dissipated into the ether.
I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.
Mick went in the front room, while I checked the food was alright, I didn’t want it burning or bubbling, it was all in the saucepan now, on low heat. With the big pile of washing up in the sink. Hehe!
Poor Micheal, told me of his ups and downs since seeing me last. He had his campervan holiday, which he enjoyed. When he got back, a week or so later, he collapsed, and his sister found him in his flat on the floor. Called for an ambulance, and was told it would be two hours before anyone could attend, there had been an accident on the motorway! Other friends arrived, and out of concern for Michael, rang again, and then they were told it would now be three hours before an ambulance would arrive! His family sorted out transport, and they took him to the hospital themselves. I shan’t go into detail of the terrible treatment he received there, it was convoluted and depressing. Just that he was told… no, I’d better not.
But being Mike, he still brought a smile to my face and soul with his zest for life and witticisms and stories of woe.
By the way, Michael, when you call again mate, remind me of the treats I forgot about in the junk room, please.
By his leaving, it was like a light going out, a power-cut. And I returned to cooking in a lower spirit.
I was stirring the mishmash in the saucepan and decided to put some chips in the oven. I had totally forgotten about the potatoes in the stew! I tried to have a read of the cooking instructions on the can of ham. Even with the magnifier glass, it was impossible to see the writing. So, I got the camera, in hopes that they might come out more legible in a picture. Which they did.
Oh, heck! It should have been done it in a microwave oven, and finished off under the grill! I do not have either available (No microwave oven, and the rack doesn’t work!) Humph! I was uncertain if I should eat it or not. But it had been in the saucepan for over an hour with the other stuff? I thought, blow it, if it tastes wrong I can always just throw it away.
Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.
The things that Michael had gone through kept coming into my muddled, mind as I dined. (Poetry slipped in there!) Then, while stuffing my face, I pondered over my visiting Sister Jane in the morning. Ideally, I should take a stick with me but cannot carry it with all the treats I’m taking… can’t cope with it either with the trolley-walker, oh, dearie me. I can catch the 07:25hr L9, and this should give me plenty of time to Tesco to get some nibbles and treats, that I already have for HRH Jane and Prince Pete, but cannot carry.
Suddenly (well it seemed quick to me), I’d finished eating nearly all of the fodder on offer (I’d left some fries). The gammon was fatty and not very tasty, though. Everything else was fine apart from the fries, which were also bland tasting. Flavour Rating: 5/10.
The cooking of the gammon wrongly seems to have caused me no bother, yet, anyway.
I felt extraordinarily tired-out and got the washing-up done, then settled down into the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, the one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, as he was flat sitting while I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The CCTV camera he can now monitor, to ensure the most destructive, annoying and grief-giving time in which to phone me up. Which are always either; As I get down to eat a meal, get seated on the Throne, I’m in the middle of cooking or just leaving the flat. Hehehe
At first, the mind was musing about Micheals problems, how cleverly the Government had cunningly forgotten all about Brexit, and how the hell am I going to get to HRH Sister Janes house in safety in the morning? But the mind eventually gave me a rest, cleared, and sleep came… Lovely!
4:05hrs. I woke, still feeling tired, but this was soon forgotten, when I realised the need for the Porcelain Throne was urgent, top-priority and as ineluctable, as it was! I got hold of the walking stick, and grudgingly freed my voluminous flobby-body from the clutches of the near-dilapidated, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, £300 second-hand, sometimes working, dangerous, but comfortable recliner. I was off to the wet room to satisfy my needs.
To my surprise, the brain had retained a modicum of cerebricity, for I remembered to take the stick with me, and to carefully avoid any toe-stubbing against the WC seat-riser’s metal legs!
The evacuation was a painful, unwilling effort again, and much blood flowed and needed cleaning up afterwards. Perhaps the INR level had gone up, at least I assumed it had, because Harold’s Haemorrhoids, were not the cause of the bleeding. After sorting out the cleansing of the room and myself, I took a wee-wee, and what a different type this time. A WYPSAOWW (Weak-Yet-Persistent-Spraying-All-Over-Wee-Wee). A new kind of variety this one! More cleaning up had to be done again! Tsk!
No sooner had got into the kitchen, and another wee-wee was needed.
I used the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket). This time around, the action was of an RDDWW (Reluctant-Drip-Drip-Wee-Wee). Well, it saves me getting bored!
A wash and I took a photo out through the thick-framed, light & view blocking, multi-glass paned that can’t be reached for cleaning, and the step ladders are needed to view down below, in the event of a fire alarm activation that I can’t hear new windows anyway.
T’was a red sky on the horizon this morning.
I got on with the Health Checks and took the medications. The ageing sphygmomanometer I bought from Boots, the one that said ‘Made in India’ on the box, and ‘Made in China’ on the actual machine, worked at the third attempt. The results looked fine to me. Sys 147, Dia 73, Pulse 79 and the Temperature was 35.1°c.
Well, well, another wee-wee! And a different mode too. This one was of the SSDWW (Short-Sensationless-Dribbling-Wee-Wee) variety. At least there was no pain with it. Haha!
Oh dear! Back to the Porcelain Throne. (I decided on no going out today, to avoid any getting caught -short!) The same again this time, hard, painful work to free the reluctant mass!
As I started the computer, the Peripheral Neuropathy stimulated dancing and jumping began in the hands and shoulder! The timing was terrible, just as I was about to start on creating page headers in CorelDraw. By the time that I’d got one graphic done, and updated the Monday post and sent it off – about six-hours had passed! And a varied mixture of about six wee-wees had been taken!
As I went to make a brew, carefully though, the hand and shoulder that gave me so much hassle in doing the blog up, were still prancing about to their heart’s content! Grumph! Sorry-for-myself=mode adopted!
I had started to feel a bit weak or tired, just delicate, and the mind was becoming a little vague. This worried me.
When I noticed the insect bites, blood papsules, blotches, whatever they were, had increased on the lower arm?
I felt the need for yet another Porcelain Throne Visit arising. So off to the wet room, what still had the aroma lingering from the last visit. Hehe!
The Porcelain Throne alarm was a false one this time?
I must admit, when I was washing the dandies and looked in the mirror, it was not precisely a very encouraging sight to see. I seem to have gone all pale and blotchy in the face, again. I was unsure of whether or not, to call, phone or see the Doctor, or dial 111? Hehehe!
I continued with beginning this post, up to now, then went onto CorelDraw to do some more templates. But it was hard, slow and frustrating work with the dancing digits. After an hour or two, and three wee-wees, I needed another. I visited the wet room this time, so I could take a look at how the pallid face was going on. But I didn’t feel too bad in myself.
Ablutions were done, and I got ready to go out.
I spotted a couple walking their dogs in the bottom field. They went up and into the tree Copse, and a twinge of jealously irked me!
I wondered; I don’t suppose I’ll ever manage to be fit enough to have another beloved hobble through this tree copse, again? Sulk-Mode Adopted!
I took a photo, well, the nubilous sky demanded it.
I found myself doing some nephelococcygia (The act of seeking and finding shapes in clouds) for ages. I kept thinking I could make out a face in them, then losing it again.
A final wee-wee before I left to get the L9 bus down the hill to Sherwood. It turned out to be of the WYSAOWW (Weak-Yet-Spraying-All-Over-Wee-Wee), which needed some cleaning up afterwards.
12:30hrs: Off to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden’s Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from, Rumourmongering Clinic, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus, Portakabin.
As I got out of the lift, Jenny’s Frank arrived. And taking his photo, a half-decent one became a problem. The hands and fingers started dancing, and Frank wouldn’t stay still at first. Hehe!
Struggled to get a decent piccy, and he turned his back on me!
As he returned from the corridor work, the fingers were bad...
He finally settled in a lobby chair, and I got him! Hahaha!
We had a chinwag, and I hobbled out to the shed. Only a few folks inside, but plenty out at the bus stop. Who, after natter, I joined for a gossip and earwigging session. Joycie arrived. She was meeting up with her Sisters for a drinking and laugh, in Nottingham. I intended to go down on the Arnold bound bus to get some fresh garden peas and bread.
But, I got on the wrong bus! Hard to believe even for me, the number of times I’m doing this lately! So, no Sherwood. I got off on Woodborough Road and limped along to the Aldi store.
I came out with Soughdough baguettes, lemon mini-muffins, peas, some lemon yoghourts, vinegar and something I tried for the first time; Halloumi Fries. I’ll try these tonight, fingers crossed on what they taste like.
Paid at the tills, no shaking fingers, arms, leg or shoulder there today, unlike last Sunday’s palava and embarrassment! No involuntary external dancing at all today – and I hope that is the way it stays.
I walked along Woodthorpe Road, towards and down Woodthorpe Rise, and the L9 bus stop.
While waiting for the bus, one of the dangerous Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists came by, and hit the trolley with her pedals as she passed me! Humph!
A lady I often talk with on the bus arrived, and we chatted. She got off two stops later, and I went down to the Winwood Heights Complex.
I walked to the flats with a lady tenant, and we had a laugh and natter as we did so.
In the flat, I was again in a weary state, so early as well? A wee-wee and I got the meal cooking. Taking care not to fall asleep while doing it. Ahem!
Well, what a feast I had! The Halloumi slices were wonderfully seasoned, the beef pasty great, along with the tomatoes, sliced potatoes, and garden peas. A lemon mini-muffin and jar of lemon yoghourts went down well, too. The overall flavour rating was 8.2/10.
A wee-wee, a wash and a change of togs to nightwear, which means I got some fresh PP’s on, and everything else off. Scary, I know, Sorry!
I found out I’d left the Brunswick smoked ham out of the fridge on Sunday, and had put it in the biscuit box, instead! Spit and bother, I hate myself at times!
The World Cup, Ladies Semi final, twixt England and the USA, began. After much-biased cursing, a penalty retracted by Var, Bookings, a penalty given wrongly by VAR, a late sending off by the Brazilian officials. (The Brazil that since 1970, where over 700,000 square kilometres (270,000 sq mi) of the Amazon rainforest have been destroyed. Just thought I’d mention it). No doubt about it though, the best team won – oh did I not mention it? America won 2-1.
Today, the other semi-final between the Netherlands and Sweden will take place. Then on Sunday, the final. I will transfer my support to the American’s now. Netherland (Amsterdam counts about 250 coffee-Drug-shops and most of them are located in the Red Light District. From psychedelic to hipster-ish but also from very local ones to more touristic places, each of Amsterdam coffeeshops has its own atmosphere. You will surely find one that suits you perfectly. They are not only to smoke weed. They are real social places where you can easily meet people and spend some good times with friends. Watching TV, playing chess or card games and much more can be done here. And always in a very relaxing way) will play Sweden (They have an outright, zero-tolerance policy ban on the possession, sale, transport, and cultivation of cannabis, including for medical use). Given that Britain had been unable to prevent the successful invasion by Nazi Germany of both France and Norway, the Swedish government was not convinced that the British could protect them and opted to continue exports. The iron ore provided much needed gold bullion, food and coal from Germany.
So, there you are, Druggies v Abstainers in the semi-final of the world cup. I’ve no idea what this means, and little interest in the match, either. But whichever team wins, I just want them to lose against America. Bias? Me? Yes!
Yet another little sleep night. Again I tried all the tips from the stroke ward hospital. Put a hat on to hide the light. Think of happier times, (well I spent hours trying to find one! Hehe!). Breathing deeply. Avoided nicotine. Do exercises, I did! Turn the heating off, it was already off! Very late on, when I eventually nodded off.
Hence, I didn’t get up until around 03:30hrs, and could not get back to kip again… Schmuck! Life, is becoming of a little less value, nowadays. Haha!
04:00hrs. I woke and got out of the £300 second-hand, gungy-beige, tatty, c1968, sometimes operating, rickety recliner. Stood up and walked without any stick, to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket), had an RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee), then thought I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, which I did need. But no sooner had I settled on the Throne, I realised that this was to be failed session! I got the clue from the solid-mass within, just not moving, and the pain from the effort to encourage it too! Haha! I gave up, got the feeling that much blood would be lost it I tried any harder, and a lot of time would be spent just sitting and waiting.
So, I decided to take some Senna tablets with the new medications later, that Deepak had delivered, all potted-up for me last night. Conveniently at a time that was an hour beyond the getting-my-head-down-time!
I had another RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee). Not the easiest of wee-wees!
Then got the hand-washing done. Just a t-shirt and a pair of bamboo socks. I got them washed, rinsed, and drying on the hanger and airer.
I spotted the ever-growing white patch on the front f the shirt near the bottom. Another Woodthorpe Court Flat 72 mystery!
Come think of it, I suppose it is where I spilt some bleach on it?
The water was slowly draining away again. Not as bad as the wet room sink, though. That is really slow, despite my buying and using the drain unblocker every day for weeks!
Then I tended to the health checks. Sys 155, Dia 55, Pulse 95, and Temperature at 35°c.
I used the first of the newly delivered compartmentalised medications. I must remember in future to add Senna and Warfarin at night.
Then another visit, with some trepidation, to the Porcelain Throne. This time the evacuation started. Got stuck half-way, and after some agonising encouragement, the movement was completed! Oy Vey!
I could see the lights around the Sherwood Health Centre, where I was due to go for the Podiatrist visit later on. I took a snap of it from the unwanted, light & view-blocking, too many panes of glass to clean, can’t see below due to the wide outer ledge, kitchen window.
I got the computer on and did a graphic for the page top and Thought of the day, on CorelDraw.
Then started to update the Thursday Diary. I was well-pleased with fingers, hand, arm, and shoulder’s lack of dancing about. But aware this could and probably would change later. (Unfortunately, I was right!) A lot to get through, but I’d mate some notes last night as a reminder, and they were invaluable to me.
Time to tackle the ablutions. So put the computer in sleep mode, and set about getting things ready.
No sooner had I done the teggies and put the shaving cream on the face; the damned hand, fingers, shoulder and arm started doing their involuntary Hokey-Cokey come corroboree dancing routine! At one stage, I had to stop and just wait for things to settle down. Luckily a few minutes later, it was just the fingers that were jumping about. I dropped the razors twice, facecloth once and the soap three times. I even let the flipping drain unblocker bottle slip when I had to use it again! Most agrannoying, Phwert!
The toenails were looking almost, erm, what’s the word I was going to use? Ah, well, another attributive and predicative adjective lost in the ether. I think!
After some hurry-scurrying about, readying things for the trip to the Health Centre and trying to make sure that things were not forgotten to take etc. I departed. Knocking on Josie’s door as I left, no answer. Took two bags to the waste chute, and out on the mini-walk to the podiatrist.
The three-wheel-trolley guide was taken with me. On the walk up the gravel hill into Woodthorpe Grange Park, I sadly realised that I could not have a walk through the tree copse. However, I stopped and carefully took a few short paces under the overhanging trees at the side of the walkway. An almost petrichor aroma lingered, and I enjoyed the few minutes under the trees.
Up onto the footpath in the Grange, I saw that a fair of some sort was getting readied on the bottom football field. I hope that the fights and vandalism of Woodthorpe Court that took place last year, are not repeated again. The Security men and police must think the same thing. As far as I know, no one was arrested or charged. The young yobboes were under age apparently they tell me.
I took this photo and then turned left down the short pathway, that comes out onto the Rise.
I gingerly plodded down the hill and right to the end of Elmswood Gardens. This three-wheeler is not keen on going downhill. Haha!
Shame about the steps on the corner. I could not manoeuvre my way up them, so I went up and right into the Health Centre.
The young lady in the reception was charming and had a sense of humour. I showed her my paperwork and asked her where the podiatry dept was. She pointed out a sign for the podiatry sign that was behind me. I said; “Ah, that’s a good clue!” She smiled, and I went and took a seat in the waiting area. A chap came and sat opposite me. I gave him an acknowledging smile, said, “Good morning!” to him. In return, I got an up and down look and a sneer. But he may have been hard of hearing, so no offence was taken.
A rather pleasing to the eye, lady fetched me into her treatment room. She went through my history and asked a few questions of me. She was soon getting me on the coach and testing the toes reactions. The result was not good, but she then got the nails clipped for me, while, I am glad to say, having a natter. She told me the toe-cutting lady can be booked every eight or ten weeks. Then saw me out and I went to the reception and asked if it was possible for her to book me an appointment for eight weeks time. She tried for me, but they can only do six weeks in advance. So suggested I call in when passing, and make an appointment then, in a couple of weeks. She said she would phone for me then. Very kind of her. I thanked her and made my way up Elmswood Gardens, towards Mansfield Road to catch the bus.
On the way, I stopped to take a photograph of a white flower and some buds. I’ve no idea what it was, but it looked so beautiful! I had to be patient and wait for the wind to stop long enough for me to take the shot.
Which hand to be done with the left hand, as the right one was doing its dancing again.
As I started to grab the trolley to walk on, I spotted this whatever it is, that had firmly attached itself to a succulent leaf. Again, I had to be calm and wait for the wind to cease for a little.
As I started off again, I realised I was getting some gobsmacked looks from two blokes behind me. One said (I think), “Was it worth it?” I’m not sure what he meant? But he didn’t look in a very good mood?
I made my way to the bus stop on Mansfield Road and found a fellow tenant and wonderfully pleasant, Doris sat in the shelter. We had a super-duper gossip, and we nearly missed the bus! The driver recognised us and stopped! Haha! That could have been a right disaster!
I walked down Chestnut Way with Doris, we were still nattering. When we got to the foyer doors, she pointed out some newly laid grass, that had been destroyed by a lorry backing up onto it, she said.
We got into the lift, and on the fifth floor, I nearly forgot to hand Doris her bag I was carrying for her from the bus. And she missed her level! I did feel the right Klutz! But she was alright with me. Shame-Mode-Adopted! She had come up with me, and go down again to her floor! Tsk!
I called to see Josie on the way in the apartment, and she answered. And was looking far better than the other day. Yee-Haa! I checked if she would still like a meal tomorrow, and she said yes. I asked what time she fancied it. She was going out later, so asked for 12:00hrs. No problem I said, and after a little chat, I got in the flat.
I had a wee. Then took a photo of the damaged turf from the unwanted new balcony, out and down and to the right. The new car park was in full use.
The metal spring release grip, on the degree-needing, to operate, new unwanted balcony end window, that requires pushing and pulling at the same time, defeated me! I could not manage to get it open! But at least I avoided any injuries this time.
To get the picture of the lawn below, I had to open one of the finger-trapping other windows, and hang out and to the right; during which the walking-stick slid from where it was rested in the corner, and came down smack-on the poor old much stubbed right toe! I said to myself under my breath, “Well, fancy that!”
I began computerisationalisticalisationing again for a couple of hours. Took the medications, got the nosh served up and eaten, (A flavour rating of 6/10) and readied myself to watch the France v USA soccer match.
I fell asleep. Waking up for the end of the match! Huh! But at least America won, now England they face England, on Tuesday 2nd July. I will have to try not to support the USA team, this time. The fact that they won, I believe was down to me reporting of the situation with the crooked avaricious FIFA shower of pocket-lining leaders, who cheated big-time to let France win the World Cup against Croatia, and got away with it, that I wrote yesterday! Hahaha!
I felt a bit of life returning uninvited, and any more sleep was not an option at this time.
So I got the hand-washing done, rinsed, rang-out and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, really. Hehehe!
Amazingly, I found I needed another visit to the Porcelain Throne. Two a day now for a Thursday and today I reckon. This is rare for me. As was this session. The usual hard and bloody effort, and change in colouration to a sort of khaki?
I was feeling like something to pick-me-up nibble-wise. So got one of the Asda cheap iced lollies from the freezer. The stick in the lolly having been frozen out of position, although not earth-shattering, still made me smile.
I suffered a bad mind-wandering-pestering session as I tried to get back to sleep. I calculated that dozens of fears, worries, concerns and things to over, fleeted through the grey-cells. I even got agitated over how to do Josie’s Cheesy potatoes in the morning? Not that it bothered me much, just confused me as to why?
02:45hrs. Woke after a cramp-filled night. Got out of the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner; not without pain. The legs and feet were still suffering from the marathon hobble and physio exercises. A wee-wee of the regular lately, SSPWW (Short-Sprinkly-Painful-Wee-wee) variety, using the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee bucket). It’s getting a little worrying, this lack of liquid-movement. I must ask the nurse today, if it is safe to take a Furesomide, with the legs not being too water-filled.
I made my way to take the medications and brew up a mug of tea. I made up three waste bags to take to the chute when I can get time, and no visitors are expected so I can get out.
Got the computer going, but… The magnificent Global Liberty Virgin internet kept going down, and it was so frustrating. Grr!
Finished updating the Tuesday blog, and got it sent off. During which I had three SSPWWs. A call to the Porcelain Throne was answered. Ye-ha! Evacuation at last! Painful, but I was so happy!
Made a start on this blog. Got the top two graphics made up, and the template, and kicked off, getting as far as here. The time now, for the ablutions, A shower, and shave, etc. I know I shouldn’t use the shower this early, but I really need to freshen up. Phew! Hehe!
Back in a bit.
06:43hrs. I’m back. All clean and refreshed, clothes on, Ankle-Support at the ready. Made a brew, and again on the computer (still making more regrets than beefburgers eaten by Elvis!). Two more pathetic SSPWWs taken during the ablutionisationing.
Worked on another draft template as I waited for the Carer. Who Shadas (The Care Supervisor) told me, could now arrive twixt 07:00hrs and 09:00 hrs. The carer (Umar) came at 06:55hrs, I was most pleased with that. He soon had the Ankle-Support on for me.
INR Nurse arrived early to do the Warfarin INR blood taking for me. Then a nurse arrived, who had been booked in for 10:00hrs arrived early. Talking mostly about moods,
Smashing, if I rush (go slightly quicker… perhaps), I can get the 09:30hrs bus. Hey-Ho!
The new hearing aid being useless, I put in the SpecSaver crap ones.
I got to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk. A hearing aid literally popped out of the right lughole and bounced several yards into the gutter. I retrieved it and put it in, but it was like the other one; of no use. No interest was shown in any gossiping with me at first, (Or maybe I could not hear what folks were saying?). Some residents came around later. Mary, Christine, and Stew shared a laugh on the bus to Arnold with me. Although it was a smidge on the farcical side as conversations go. All three of us either had no hearings in or those in were damaged. Good job the lip-reading skills are not entirely useless. Haha!
Woodthorpe Court (Winwood Court behind trees)
Winchester Court
I took some snaps (above) while waiting at the bus stop.
I got off in Arnold, determined to try and get an extension cable for the broken one at home for the headphones. Of course, my having a talk to Mary, threw me off kilter, and I never got any cable. What a schlemiel!
Went in the Asda store, and wandered about, coming out with: a tin of chopped tomatoes with herbs, a milk roll loaf, rice cakes, mature cheddar cheers, cooked beef slices, and a tin of garden peas. The atmosphere in the store was terrible. I sensed a gloominess, satiated with a defeated discontentedness. Not from all the customers and staff, but a large proportion. When I did hear someone laughing, it made me want to investigate.
The closed down retail businesses I saw when I got out, added to the pessimism that abounded.
Paid at the self-serve till, and came out to nip over to the Fulton Foods store, to see if they any bargains, but they did not. But, I met Mary who was getting some flour, so we stayed together, had a look about and went to the bus stop on Front Street. Stew joined us later, and a conversation of great jocoseness was shared. I’m sure all of us were guessing what the other one was saying. Haha!
Mary watched the three-wheel-trolley-guide for me, while I took some photographs on Front Sreet.
Mary, keeping conk on my trolley for me
Caroline from the top residential home got on the bus en route. I had a natter to her when we got back to the flats. Then went with Mary and Stew back to Woodthorpe Court.
Got in the flat and realised there had not been ant wee-wees required. But once indoors, that did start again – persistently. But they were of the SSPWW variety. Scarcely a few fluid ounces each time. Humh!
Got the fodder put away, and got the mushrooms sliced and in the crock-pot on the high setting.
I decided as I noticed a machine was free, to take the laundry down and get it going. Which I did. Got the clothes in an started, then returned upstairs, well, the lift to the flat. Where, I spent a while on the Porcelain Throne – with abject failure. Things felt hard.
By the time I got cleaned up and out of the wet room, it was time to go down to move the clobber to the dryer. Which I did. I was a little dubious about the rattling noise as the drum went round, and the filter was filthy, so I cleaned it first. I’ll mention this to Julie when I see her next. Up to the apartment, and got the computer on to update this blog. Until it was time to go down again, to collect the washing.
It’s surprising how big the amount of washing seems when it is dirty. The cleaned washing took up only a half of the red bag, after being folded. I cleaned the drum and filter.
Got back up in the flat. I’d used the three-wheel trolley to put the bag on, instead of using a stick. The good thing about this was I did not leave the stick downstairs. Hehehe!
I got the togs put away, and got the oven on to do the chips in later.
I was soon back on the updating of this post.
Another summoning to the Porcelain Throne proved another failure! Hey-Ho!
I made a brew and took the evening medications a little early, including an extra Senna. I hope they soon start working! Forgot this time, not to take them with a hot drink. Schmuck!
The landline phone light flashed. It was Nurse Sue from the Stroke Team. She had called earlier, but I was out! I realised what might have happened, or to be more precise, I recognised how I had made a Whoopsiedangleplop – even if I didn’t understand how. Having had three helpers this morning, and three appointments being on the calendar, I thought I would be free to get out to the shops. I thought the second lady was Sue, coming early. Does that make sense? I may have got confused with the INR nurse. Oh, I did feel bad about it. I verbally lambasted myself! The gal will be calling again, on Friday at 09:30hrs.
The tea had gone cold now, so after another SSPWW (Let’s save time, and just assume the wee-wees came averaged two an hour for the rest of the day). Hahaha!
The view from the unwanted, light & view blocking new kitchen windows that have extra glass that needs cleaning, but can’t be reached, and needs step ladder usage to take a shot of the road below, was stunning.
There were precious few folks about anywhere nearby this late afternoon.
I was in the usual, feeling shattered mode again. Always the same in the afternoon for me.
Hello, another call to the Porcelain Throne. Back in a bit!
Ah-Ha! Movement! I sensed wrongly that things had been firm, but they were messy. So, at last, the Senna-Strikes! Hehe!
I made a start on the nosh, and got some chips in the oven cooking. The meal was smelling and looking fair enough, but the appetite let me down again. I didn’t eat a lot of it. The words from Care team leader Shadas, and Sister Jane ring in my ears, “You must lose Weight!”
Got the shakes as I was doing the pots, but avoided an accifauxpas okay.
Very tired, I got down really early.
I noticed the left leg was more bloated, and the right one was almost skinny? Might the Anoxonotmesis have some bearing?
The cramps came on again later, but not as bad as the last two nights; then again, I have not done so much walking.
Fell to sleep, but kept waking up for the most misleading and pathetic wee-wees ever! A few drops weakly dribbled out each time, then nothing. Until I would wake again later, and repeat the process. Most aggravating.
Eventually, they stopped bothering me, and a good four hours kip followed before I woke again, and it started all over again! Tsk!
04:25hrs. Woke in dire need of the eighth wee-wee of the night! Possibly the cause of the tummy ache that had developed overnight. Months of minimal movement, now the EGPWWB, again! The PHBLWWs (Painfull-Hosepipe-Blasting like Wee-wees) have suddenly returned. Naturally, the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee bucket) has been re-utilised and restored to a location close to the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. I found a couple of new expletives to silently use as well. Hehe!
I wondered to the WC, taking the EGPWWB for sanitisation with me, for yet another wee-wee of the same style as earlier. I had a wash and put on the expensive long Diabetic socks using the Sock-Glide. I’m so glad there are no CCTV cameras in the wet room, or some shots may qualify for a comedy award, or at least go viral on Facebook! Haha!
Fifteen minutes after starting the socking-glide-routine, I’d got them on. A record that was! I had to sit down for a few moments to recover from the effort that I had used up. Sad! And the socks seemed to be getting much thinner after only using them twice before. Oh dear! Still, they are comfortable, even if they make the Bank Manager Unfriendly. Hehe!
Cleaned up and tidied the place, and off to the kitchen, got the kettle on, and had to utilise the EGPWWB, again! (A good job it was close to hand, too). Haha!
The hands seemed excessively shaky this morning, but the leg was not too bad, shuddering-wise. The first time they have been acting differently of their own accord. This might be a sign of things improving; What am I saying and thinking, things improving? For me? What a plonka!
Tried to sort out the medication box status, but got all confused, it looks like I am going to run out of some medications before the next prescriptions are due? A disoriented Inchcock gave up, having come across a mind-freeze subject, I think. I must ask for help on this. Hopefully Caroline or Shona might be able to sort things for me. My brain seemed incapable of grasping my medical stuff for some reason. Took the medications and was soon making my way to the EGPWWB, again! I washed out the bucket and antisepticalised it yet again.
Got the nearly cold mug of tea drank up, and had a look out of the unwanted or liked new, light & view-blocking kitchen window. By gun it cold when I opened up to take a photograph!
The view was rather attractive though, and an idea for a poem came to mine – unfortunately, the need for another EGPWWB came as well. By the time I got back to the kitchen, the memories of my idea for a poem had all gone off into the ether. Grumph!
I got things ready for the Carer’s visit to fit the Ankle-Support for me. Then onto the computer. Answered a comment on WordPress, and made a start on this blog.
Making another mug of tea, and the ankle went over. A few well-chosen words of discontent and self-recrimination were silently uttered! Only myself to blame though. I knew I had not got the support on and had not taken the stick with me, hence the ‘self-recrimination’ part of things. What a nudnik I am!
I checked the Google Calendar to make sure I had put in the Nottingham City Hospital Appointment for June, and I had. Smug-Mode temporarily adopted! There seemed to be a lot of medical appointments for next week.
The Shaking Shaun affected hands and fingers, ensured I was spending more time correcting my typing, than writing it in the first place! Tsk! Ah, well!
I found that the email telling me my electricity usage for the quarter including the two months I was in the hospital or the home, had gone up by 38% on the previous one? Hmm?
06:40hrs. The late sleep-in, due to the late night, had left me a tad puzzled timewise. I had to rush a bit to get things readied for the Carer visit.
Oh, dear, a WC visit for yet another PHBLWW! I’d hoped to get to Sherwood for some food today… dare I risk it? Dare I not? Hahaha!
07:10hrs. The Carer arrived and soon had the Ankle-Support fitted. All done.
I was a little uncertain of going out what with the wee-weeing situation. But it is urgent I get to the Audio Clinic to get help with the stuck tubes and waxed up holes.
Sorted and washed the three bins, new black bags in and took the waste to the chute. Cleaned the top of the WC support. Feeling a tad weary now!
Made a small mug of tea. I mused and decided I have to risk going out to and up Standard Hill and the Audio Centre. I put the Record Book in the jacket pocket.
Oh, dear, a WC visit for yet another PHBLWW. A minute later once again off for a wee-wee. This one was of the SWDWW (Short-weak-dribbling-wee-wee) variety. All change!
Off out, with trolley-walker and little faith of avoiding any accidents with the wee-wees. But I was wrong, and just managed to avoid any! Cheery Mode Adopted!
Angela and Roy were in the lift when it came down to me. I fear they did not look too enthusiastic this morning, but they cheered up later, thankfully. A lovely friendly couple.
Outside they sped off ahead of me to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden’s Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from, Rumourmongering Clinic, and somewhere to rest while waiting for the bus, Portakabin, where I caught up with them and some other residents before going out to catch the City bound L9 bus. Had a quick word with Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and Catwalk Model Julie, who is on her own looking after both Courts. She was a little cheerier this morning, bless her.
A big crowd for the buses, but most of the gang got on the Sherwood bus, only a few on the City bound one.
I noticed how pale and anaemic my hands looked as they held on to the trolley. I looked in the reflection in the window, and the face looked etiolated and ghostly as well. Ah, well, what will be, will be!
I dropped off on Queen Street and made my way laboriously and sedulously to and up Standard Hill to the Ropewalk and the Audio Clinic.
Along Upper Parliament Street, taking care with the three-wheel trolley walker. I could not help but notice the rather sad, perhaps dejected look on many of me fellow Nottinghamians faces. Despite the weather beginning to warm up a bit.
I took a snap of Chapel Bar as I passed it. There was a conspicuous absence of citizens about for a Friday.
I risked life an limb to cross over the Pelican lights to get on Park Row to limp up Standard Hill to get to the Audio Clinic.
I made my way carefully, with great weariness up Park Row and Standard Hill.
I looked at the starters on show at Brown’s Restaurant. It was for starters:
Somerset Camembert toast, with Gooseberry compote for only £10.50. Duck liver parfait, red onion marmalade brioche for only £6.75. Pan-seared scallops – rhubarb, smoked pancetta and pea shoots. (I bet Sister Jane would love them, she’s into scallops, bless her).
A little further up the incline, and I had a rest, to et the left foot ease off a bit. The pain was not very pleasant. Due to the chiropodist not calling for so long. Although the gal, Suzie did call the day after I had the Stroke. Huh!
The handlebar on the left was annoying me with its waggling loose. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does for some reason. It’s a funny old world innit?
Not many folks about, but a chap came to me while I was resting, and told me I was looking deathly pale and was I alright, did I need an ambulance. I thanked the man, saying things were okay thank you. He looked a little disbelieving, told me to take care and wandered off, looking back at me a few times? Not doing a lot for my confidence, this. Hehehe!
I continued up the hill, carefully.
Arriving at the people-less scene at the clinic, and went in, getting out my Appointment/record book. I approached a lady on the reception desk, who looked right wee’d off with life. By the time I had told her of my woe and problems, she became a lot friendlier and cheered up. She handed me some Hearing Aid Batteries I asked her for. Then I explained the problem with the actual aid, and my not being able to get the tubes off, to clear off the wax. Thus they are not much use to me, telling her I did not know if the Stroke had left my fingers too weak to remove the tubing. She made me an appointment for next Monday with an audiologist, for 0845hrs. Usually, I would be pleased with it being so early in the day and would walk from home to the session. This time decided I will catch a number 40 bus on Winchester Street. I must find out what the cost will be, and make sure I have the right cash with me and sort out the times. (Well that’s the plan, anyway, Hehe!) The lady filled in the appointment sheet for me, and I was off outside.
I walked back to the bus stop a different way. Taking things even steadier now, as I was going downhill. And this trolley-walker does not like going downhill at all.
There were a couple of hairy moments en route to the City Centre, Chapel Bar and level ground, but no Accifauxpas. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I called in a small Tesco and got tomatoes, a pint of milk and a box of two fresh cream eclairs. I intend to hand Doris one of them as a thank you for caring about me.
Through the City Centre along Long Row.
There was a Big Issue gal outside Debenhams store; and not many folk about. So I slipped her a couple of quid.
I went up Queen Street to the top and the L9 bus stop. I timed it well for once, and the bus arrived five minutes later. I got on the bus without any hassle and got myself seated.
No other residents of Winwood got on at all, odd that. As the bus pulled off, I noticed the old Tall & Small clothing shop that had closed down, had opened up as The Culfather, A traditional Turkish Barbeque food outlet.
Just what we need, another takeaway in Nottingham! Considering that eleven have gone bankrupt in the City Centre already this year!
I got off at Winwood Heights, and exchange hello’s with a few people who were getting on the bus. But there was not enough time for any chinwags, as a wee-wee was needed.
I made my way as fast as I could, without risking injury to the apartment. I rang Doris’s doorbells as I unlocked my door, and handed her one of the cakes, splitting them up. Doris seemed to like it and accepted it. Pleased-Mode-Adopted.
Inside and hastened to the WC… and what a change in the wee-wee! It was an LHNCWW (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Sensation-Wee-wee), that seemed to tire me out, somehow? Ah, well, a change is as good as a rest!
Had a wash-up. Then, I got the computer on and added the Monday appointment to the Google Calendar.
Took the evening medications, and made a brew of tea.
Then got a landline phone call. “This message has been forwarded from BT… I rang off at this point. This is now several of these messages that have come through. Pete said some came in while I was in the hospital. I’ve hed three since being home. They tell me that my BT internet connection will be terminated within 24 hours if I do not ring a number within 6 hours… A con or fiddle of some sort, I assume! As I am not on BT? But it still bothers me! Has anyone else had these calls, please?
Very, very thin Bamboo socks
I started to update this blog, and the door-chime rang out its “I only want to be with you” tune from Dusty Springfield.
It was the postman, with a parcel. (Diabetic extra-wide socks that were due to be delivered next Tuesday), and the INR-Warfarin Anticoagulation and the current Deep Vein Thrombosis results and dosages for the week. The nurse, the beautiful nurse, is due again next week to take some more blood.
Warfarin results & dosage
As least the INR level is good this time, only .6 above the target figure.
The dosages all being the same makes things easier to remember this week.
Then Jane rang on the landline. (An unexpectedly busy afternoon/evening, Hehe!)
We had a long nattering session which I enjoyed. She had to go to get the nosh prepared for herself and hubby Peter.
I went on the TFZer Facebooking and photo album adding.
I stood watching the rain, though the unwanted new multi-panes of glass needing cleaning, light & view blocking windows. The mind wandered, but it wasn’t missed. Hehehe!
Tended to the simple but tasty meal preparation. Baked beans flavoured with tomato puree, mustard, curry powder, demerara sugar and white distilled vinegar. They had been marinating most of the day, lovely flavour this time. Cooked and added some smoked streaky bacon, and did some part-baked cobs in the oven, to soak up the treat. Sliced an apple too. I’m afraid once again, the appetite was not up to the job. I left about half of it. Tsk!
Late for me, I settled to get some sleep. It took a while to nod off, and then the legs and feet kicked off, waking me. Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps had a go at me.
It felt as if some worms were wriggling about under the skin in the lower legs, and a little pain with it?
