Wednesday 8th January 2020
بدھ 8 جنوری 2020: Urdu
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!
TTFNski.
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. 
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 had started to feel a bit weak or tired, just delicate, and the mind was becoming a little vague. This worried me.
the aroma lingering from the last visit. Hehe! 
Ablutions were done, and I got ready to go out. 
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. 
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 tried for the first time; Halloumi Fries. 
nd embarrassment! No involuntary external dancing at all today – and I hope that is the way it stays.
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!
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. 
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. 
ablets 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! 
Then I tended to the health checks. Sys 155, Dia 55, Pulse 95, and Temperature at 35°c. 
onising encouragement, the movement was completed! Oy Vey! 
er in sleep mode, and set about getting things ready. 
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! 
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 gingerly plodded down the hill and right to the end of Elmswood Gardens. This three-wheeler is not keen on going downhill. Haha! 
Very kind of her. I thanked her and made my way up Elmswood Gardens, towards Mansfield Road to catch the bus. 
done with the left hand, as the right one was doing its dancing again.
would still like a 
The metal spring release grip, on the 
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 felt a bit of life returning uninvited, and any more sleep was not an option at this time. 
ssion. The usual hard and bloody effort, and change in colouration to a sort of khaki?
02:45hrs. Woke after a 
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! 
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. 
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.
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! 
ill be calling again, on Friday at 09:30hrs.
glass that needs cleaning, but can’t be reached, and needs step ladder usage to take a shot of the road below, was stunning.
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!”
Very tired, I got down really early.
0
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!
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 took a snap of Chapel Bar as I passed it. There was a conspicuous absence of citizens about for a Friday.
I looked at the starters on show at Brown’s Restaurant. It was for starters:
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!
up the hill, carefully.
Through the City Centre along Long Row.
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.
I went on the TFZer Facebooking and photo album adding.
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! 
04:15hrs. Woke up, which I was well pleased with doing (Haha!), after getting to sleep late and suffering panic attacks as I realised I was laying where the Stroke took place and felt a little bilious. Of course, during the stroke, every orifice emptied out, I mean every one of them, and I threw-up first thing. Somehow it frit me, and I began to be scared of going to sleeping? Silly old thing. I felt right fermished!
The Carer man arrived, and he was a different one again. Which meant I had to try and remember how the Foot-Retainer straps have to be fitted. Farcical really. The three carers who I’ve had so far, have all got it on in a different way. 
much, I have no intention of going out today. 
Went to make a brew of tea and put the oven on to warm up ready for the baking of the giant potato. Seeing the Teddy Bear someone (Marie?) sent me, I’m naming him Cuddles! And the beautiful Koala Katie that was sent to me when I was ill earlier cheered me up exponentially. 
But this didn’t happen. I was so tired I just had some bread thins with the Polish Ham and some sliced lightly salted tomato slices. Then a pot of mandarins in juice. 
When I woke up, I didn’t know if Doris had been in to make her check on me. 
I decided to finish some more of this diary, then go on Facebook and the TFZer pages for a while.