05:00hrs: I woke, feeling drained before I’d even moved. Checked the time and went through a Thought-Storming session for ages. Jumping from one subject to another, fretting, fearing, blaming and self-condemning. There were decisions, plans, and ideas; the thoughts cleared, amazingly, and I dropped off back into sleep… This was the same as yesterday! Each and every one of the following wee-wees had after-leakage that, at times, was more than the original wee was! 06:05hrs: I stirred again, in need of a wee-wee. I hope I will not need to see Dr Nallamothu, Urinary Tract Infections, again. I recall how unlistening and snotty she was with me on my last visit. This is why I’m hanging on, hoping this infection will clear on its own. The NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) was filled within four trips, well, not filled, but it had too much in it to use it safely. I’m getting experienced in emptying and sanitising things nowadays. I wonder if the NHS just might have a job for a qualified Guzunder emptier at the hospital? Hehe!
This Canon photograph is of the morning’s great sky. They used to stay, ‘Red Sky in the morning, Shepherd’s Warning’. Of rain… but there is nothing on the weather forecast about rain. According to the local news, the reservoirs have been at the lowest since records began. This is not good! Which we could do well with having.
Time to let the sphygmomanometerisationing flow. So I did. The body temperature at 34.1°f was pleasing again. Much better than last month. The Blood Pressure readings, I thought, were excellent. But not the NHS recording site? The attachment today was as written beneath the picture on the left here. Which surprised me. The ‘it should be below 120/80 was a bit hopeful. I’ve never had a reading as low as SYS 120 in donkey’s years. This one was in the amber, as well?
Off to the Throne room, taking the crossword book with me, as I anticipated another session like yesterday morning, of solid resistance. But Constipation Konrad had lost control of the innards to Trotsky Terence now? How can things change in such a short time?
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and raided the packet of pod peas for a nibble.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed loudly from the doorbell. It was Samantha. Got the medications sorted, listened to my waffling, picked her thank-you treats and was off like a shot. Taking the waste bag with her to the rubbish chute on her way for me.
At long last, I made a start on updating the Friday blog. Not a lot to do on it, but finding so many mistakes and correcting them, took me at least two hours. Humph!
Both kicked off together as I moved on to get this template started. This put a temporary end to the keyboard activity.
I decided to get the ablutions done while incapacitated from typing. Miss was a mistake! Of course, I know this now! As I approached the door, just for devilment, I’m sure, but an involuntary kicked off, and I felt myself going backwards… But I knew the door behind me was pulled to; I always close it behind me, you see, then in the event of a fall or tumble, I can slide down the softer than the floor door! Clever stuff, eh?
But, unbeknownst to me, the door was wide open, and I ended up flat on my back, clouting the back of my head a decent wallop on the way down! So much for making plans! I got back into the main room on my hands and knees; that wasn’t easy with SSS shaking me about. I used the c1968 recliner to get myself back up on my feet. I was a little shook up but by no means incapacitated or proper poorly. Found a couple of minor scratches on my arm, the back and head aching, but not severely. SSS gave me rest; at last, Anne Gyna was still stabbing across my chest, which was the worst of the ailments and injuries. Hehehe! I think my feeling a fool was embarrassing too.
I sat for a while to recover, a bit of shock, knowing you would hit the door and don’t, but instead, the floor! Thinking it through, I reckon Esther had left the door open when showing the lady who’s covering for her holiday where things were. No blame whatsoever; it’s my fault for not noticing the door was open… Ah, I’ll settle for blaming Cataract Cathy, then! Hehe! Oh, Back-Pain-Brenda has started now! It could have been a lot worse; I think they would call this ‘Good-Luck?’
Sister Jane rang, and we had a good long natter and gossip.
She’s struggling with her Doctor as well, and her eyes have not been looked at again yet.
Gave me a concert of clattering, but it was a small one. It could have been the 1812 overture! Hahaha!
I will get my feet up to eat the meal and hopefully fall asleep. Well, I hope so, at least. Got the potatoes in the oven and chilli in the pan.
Not very good; I got the subjects cut off. Still shaking a bit from the tumble. I may take an extra Codeine to help counter Back-Pain-Brenda. Even so, I’ve got away lightly in that Accifauxpa!. I got an email from Sainsbury’s. So it looks like the code through the post was genuine… at least I hope it was.
Took the Codeine, so I take it while eating, which might be more effective. Sliced p[otatoes and veg-chilli out of a can this time. But still tasty; in fact, the chilli was a little hot for my tastes, but the more I ate of it, the less hot it seemed to get? Flavour rating: 6.5/10. Arrived, she was chirpier this evening. Hard to fear what she was saying cause she has a habit, like Esther, of talking to me and facing in the opposite direction. But Val does not do it from another room. Hehe! I got on the computer, and although hard work, mistakes, and correcting-ridden, I pressed on with this blog.
I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the sunset was worth photographing. I got the meal on my knee on the tray, thenput the TV on, not that there was anything worth watching. I’ve got about 150 channels on complimentary view and not a sausage worth viewing that I could find. Noticed the lighting had changed as it came through the thin moth-eaten curtains! And went back to the kitchen window to take another shot, the bottom one of the two. Bootiful!. I think there were only ten minutes between the snaps being taken. Then I got the blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Gone midnight now! No rest for the wicked! But I want to make a start on the following Snippets blog…
06:50hrs. What a sleep that was at last. Ready for this… Six-Hours! Grrreat!The ankle ulcer had come up overnight and was tingling & stinging a bit. The right foot and leg were more swollen and colourful as well. So, I took this snapshot. I just can’t understand why the Tate Gallery has not noticed the state of my legs and bought my photos. After six uninterrupted hours of gorgeous sleep, I was not surprised that the wee-wees started flowing and regularly. Each session was followed by after-micturitional leaking. Bit of a nuisance having to wait so long and make sure any extra squirts or leaks had all finished. Still, that’s a fact of life nowadays.
I went into sphygmomanometerisationing mode and got the Health Checks done.
The BP had gone up a smidgeon, but nothing too risky. God results still. Barely into the red zone, yet again. I don’t know why it has been so good this past month, but I adopted a well-deserved one. How long can this go on? It seems to have settled so well. Fingers crossed that it continues. I started to do the layout for this template and got a whiff of my B,O., so I decided that as soon the morning Carer has been, I’ll get the ablutioning done. Seconds later, ♫ Oh. Susana ♫ sounded from the door chime.
Came in and got my medications sorted out. Val’s weekly treat of Strawberries had arrived, and I issued them in thanks to Valerie, and off she went – forgetting for the first time ever to take the waste bags with her. I was rushing her a bit so I could get the ablutioning done, though, so, not her fault.
I went into the wet room to clean up my massively overweight bobby body and assorted knick-knacks. But found that the job of cleaning up the wet room floor I did yesterday, I think it was, was of inferior quality. The floor had bits on it, black, that stuck like glue to the surface. Where they came from puzzled me. (As a lot of things tend to do nowadays, Hehe!) I just about crippled myself getting down and up again so often, after each time, and found I’d missed some. to blame, mayhaps? By the time I got around to doing any ablutioning, I was well worn out and had some new aches. Hehe! As I started with the teeth cleaning, I had to double check that the scrubbing brush, bleach, mop, and bucket had not been left in my own way in the shower area. So glad I checked, for the bleach was under the shower, and going in there without any glasses on, I might have avoided an ! At long last, a weary and battered Inchy got on with the job in hand. Teggies have already been done, and I got on with the shaving. And only had two tiny nicks in the process. However, I did manage to break one of the new razors, and not a cheap Bic; Oh no! One of the four-bladed ones! How is it a mystery? I don’t think I could break one if I tried to. The showering went well, apart from clouting my shoulder against the towel rail and starting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off. The lower regions, front and rear, were then medicated. The ear holes were olive-oiled. The eye drops were dropped in; well, most of them ended up on the cheek and then ran down into the moustache, turning it into a temporary brown from grey. Little Inchies fungal lesion is the most painful ailment to treat (As usual). Deodorised, dressed, and off to make a brew of Glengettie tea. Noticed the beautiful puffer clouds in view in the sky again. I do love so to see these up there. I tried a bit of pareidoliaing and found two figures in this photograph on the left.
I got some potatoes out, sorted them and got the good ones in the saucepan on a low heat setting. Then realised I had the fresh chips in the fridge with a short use-by-date that needed consuming. Then the dithering started. Shall I have the potatoes and end up wasting the ready-made chips? I sort of left any decision in the air. I’m good at that, being indecisive, you know? I went to check on the other dates in the fridge but could only manage to decipher a couple of them. Carer Richard was in such a rush yesterday that he forgot to investigate for me. And of course, I forgot to ask him to. Hey-Ho! The lad was worn-out and tired, bless him. I hope he can get a good rest during his break. and does not get called in. He’s due a bit of good luck, and I hope Sweet Morpheus can supply it for the lad.
Later, I felt the stinging from the ankle ulcer and looked at the ankle and legs again. See what’s what with it. It (the ankle ulcer) now looked so much calmer. And yet it was stinging more than before when it was all swollen and glowing? Beats me. Then again, most things do nowadays. Back onto CorelDraw to make another Ode that had come into my distorted mind.
Here it is; sorry!
Waffling Ode Number 19⅑th
Cloud Photo of the Year!
Absolutely bootiful!
The Morrison order for Tuesday; that I started yesterday and gave up on when it needed verification and Code numbers from an outside source to log on was annoying. Well, believe it or not, I got a code to use this morning, by text, from the bank??? I used the number and finished the order that was still on site. Two things worry me…❶ I clicked buy now, and another email, confirmation from Morrison’s, told me I had ordered it for next Sunday, not Tuesday. ❷ Have I been hacked, scammed, fiddled, or not? Worried now!
Pressed on with this Ode, I knew I’d get around to it eventually, but not as late as this. Gone eleven o’clock!
03:00hrs: Decided to get something to eat; the blog will have to wait.
Ah, the mushroom pate is not as good as the Sainsbury one, but very lovely. Fresh ready-prepared oven chips, last of bullet-hard beetroot, and tomatoes. Wholemeal cobs, BBQ dip, and for afters: An orange jelly, with squirty low-fat imitation, pretend cream sprayed all over it. Flavour rating; 6.9/10, the chips (fries) let it down.
Got the pot’s washed, and I settled to watch an episode of Kitchen Nightmares. Fell asleep, and the landline burst forth, waking me crudely! I bungled my way out of the c1968 recliner to get to the phone before it stopped; “Hello?” – “Mr Chambers, Gerald?” “Yes, is that Hristina?” And it was my beautiful, beloved Haematology Nurse. I think she said she would be coming to take the blood sample on Monday. She had a clear voice on the phone and seemed impressed that I recognised her voice. A picture of her came into my mind… that’s why I’m not sure if it was Monday or Tuesday she would be calling. I tend to get excited when she calls me.
I resettled in the c1963 recliner, and I started to watch the TV, but I drifted off into a much-needed sleep… Not for long! ♫ Oh, Susana ♫… Joseph, the evening carer, woke me up. His shaky-right leg was going like the clappers tonight when he sat down. Got the medications sorted and gave him his choice of the thank-you treats. (Woo-Woo, I think?) Saw him off and locked the front door.
Got down in the recliner once again, determined to get some sleep… But No! As I was drifting off, I felt the dreaded wet warm sensation in the PPs (Protection Pants). I was certain that I’d had a leak. So, up yet again, and to the wet room to wash and get new PPs on. , It was worse, So cleaning up and medicationalisationing was needed.
I noticed the glow from the late sun setting and just had to take a photo of it. A misty, unclear, but mood-prompting shot, so I thought. The body was tired, the mind ready to be switched off, I got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, rusty, wobbly-recliner for the umpteenth time.
Up now this Friday, I must have dropped off to sleep, on the insistence of my body & brain, so many times.And every time, someone or thing woke me up. I think this must have confused my already unreliable brain. Cause when I got down in the recliner this time, in search of Sweet Morpheus, it refused to let me drift off! It was hours (and oh, so many wee-wees before I finally got off!
07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room. The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all. It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.
Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!
Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.
I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.
I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.
The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!
Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!
Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!
A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking! I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!
♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!
With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?
I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.
After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.
Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!
I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!
Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.
On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.
The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August. He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely. Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!
I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.
Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead. Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!
I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .
I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!
A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really relish watching them again.
I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.
06:15hrs: I woke; I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known what was coming to me… I was partly forced out of the recliner, but the need for the Throne to be used. It went tremendously well, as it happens, but as I stood up to get the ablutions done, I realised there was water near the shower drain. I checked the power-point, and it was off. The showerhead was dripping water too? Flummoxed, I turned on the power, I turned on the shower, a little water dripped, an alarm sounded, and a red light flashed, so I turned everything off. I’ll have to ring Deans at 09:00hrs and Meridian about the transport that didn’t come for the diabetes course on Friday.
Got the health checks done. SYS 142, DIA 56, Pulse 76, and the body temperature was 34°f. The wee-wees were far too frequent for my liking, but there you are; Ageing and ailments, you know! Put the figures into the NHS DVT check site and was pleased to see me barely in the red zone.
Richard arrived. With the kerfuffle of the shower Whoopsies, I’d forgotten to unlock the door. Tsk! The lad listened to my problems and filled in the booklet the Diabetes sent me with my details. He read something of the small printed advice note to me, but my hearing was not good, and he spoke a little quickly. Understandable, as he had another call to do, he did his best to set my mind at ease… but nothing less than getting the diabetes mess and shower repaired would ease my mind. On his way out, a lovely lad, Richard, took the waste bag to the chute.
I started this blog template, and soon it was gone 09:00hrs, and I could call Deana and Meridian for help. I rang Deana; first, the call was diverted. Then called Meridian, who was also redirected to their head office. I didn’t want them involved, so I rang off.
Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and tried to ring Natalie again. I did feel a fool – I’d intended to ring Natalie and was chattering away and realised I’d rang Deana! to blame. She resisted laughing and kindly said she would ‘pop in’ later to take a look at the shower. Has a lot to answer for, of course; in my younger days, she was referred to as ‘Going-Potty’, ‘Losing-it’, or Blind Bonkers. Hehehe!
The wee-wees were getting more often, and Little Inches Lesion is getting sore at all the handling he’s having – Please don’t start Bleeding, mate!” I think it could be worse, though. How? At least there is only a tiny bit of, very little .
Another bonus is that the fluid retention in the right leg and foot seems to be lessening this morning. Hobbling about is a lot easier than it was yesterday. Got a bit of colour in the plates as well? Good, or not? Hello, he’s off again. Thuds, clangs, boings, and the usual tap-tapping concerto from the noise maestro above.
I went into the wet room to see if the floods had decreased. They had, but not by much. The water does not appear clearly in the photographs I took on the left. I must remember to ask the expert in photography if my little Canon camera has any settings I can try when picturing a wet view to see the water more. I must remember. I took this one earlier when I tried putting the power on, then when the alarms and lights lit, I hastily shut it off. Better safe than sorry. The amount of water on the floor seemed the same as earlier. I’m not sure the drain works without the power on. Then again, there is so much in life that I’m not sure about nowadays. Mainly due to the stroke and .
Getting on a bit now; midday coming up. If Deana doesn’t arrive soon to phone for help with the shower, I may have to go without it until tomorrow. The shower is brilliant for cleaning the three daily areas that need doing before medicating. The Little Inches Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids.
I made another brew, Glengettie, this time. I espied these two dogs having a sniff around in the bottom field. Their tails did a lot of wagging, Hehe! I was well-pleased with this photo. I zoomed in from the 12th-floor kitchenette window.
Snapped this one of the horizons, seeing as far away as the M1 motorway, just out of view furthest away. Basford, Bulwell, City Hospital, Nottingham Prison, the Romanian slave building, and Sherwood. Within this view, there have been nine murders so far this year. There are flats available here if you’re interested, and over 60? Maybe not, though! The sky was almost cloudless but still beautiful. The clouds increased minutes later. I tried again to contact Meridian Care (Care? Hehe!) Natalie. I got through and told her that the lift for the Dementia Meeting didn’t arrive. Reply: “Yes, I’ve been swamped and couldn’t get through to them!” I inquired why I had not been informed. She did apologise, at least. But it’s putting me through a lot of anguish, not knowing! When I explained about my not getting help with phoning and reading, deafness, Dementia, and Cataract’s are making life complicated and busy for me. Natalie asked why the Carers were not helping during the extra hour on Fridays. I knew nothing about this. Again a lack of communication. I thought the charges had gone up steeply. Now I know why. If I want any phoning or reading done, I’m to leave it until Friday each week, with no one available on Saturdays and Sundays. And, the Carers can call at any time from 06:0hrs to 08:40hrs. So how can they phone anyone for me?
Good heavens, it’s bad enough being hard of hearing, having Cataracts, knackering my vision, panic attacks, and Doreen Dementia causing confusion and memory losses.
“How dare they say; “Don’t worry, we’re sorting it”. Naturally, I was so pleased and grateful to hear this. I did stop worrying! – then, not only do they not sort anything but put me in deeper poo with the Diabetic Session transport failure – And not advise me of their let-down? Now, I have got to beg Deana to help me out with the mess and the shower, and it’s gone 13:00hrs, and she has not got to me yet. So, I assume it will be too late to bring attention to the shower today and will have to wait another day at least… Or at best, get a late call which means my already deprived sleep will suffer even more by trying to stay awake; late! It’s not doing my health any good. I am not a happy chappy.
Deana departed, and she is a busy gal. Minutes later, I went to the Porcelain Throne and realised I had not mentioned the flood and shower not working to Deana! So I phoned her and told her. She said she’d call maintenance straight away. So if they do come today, it’s going to be late, and in case they do, I have to stay awake to hear the hardly audible intercom ring when they arrive. If they come tonight, or not, perhaps? I am not a happy chappy. Most likely, it will be in the morrow when they respond. What time is anyone’s guess? I shall remain showerless and stinky, then, I suppose. I am not a happy chappy.
Awaiting the arrival of Meridian’s Natalie, still. If she comes, as she told Deana, she would be doing. Will she be too busy, I think?
Well, I’m going to get some fodder sorted out. Not feeling too bright now, although after Deana’s attention, better than I did earlier. Just maybe some ♫ Food Glorious Food ♫ might help. Nothing fancy, tomatoes and veggie burger should do me. Back in a while… well… Three wholemeal baps, chips, tomatoes with some ketchup dip, and a lemon mousse dessert. I put the burgers in the oven, expecting them to be cooked by the time I’d spread the cobs, sliced the tomatoes, and got the plate ready on the tray. Then realised I’d turned the oven on, put the chips (fries) in, but forgot all about the vegan burgers! Idiot, fool, twit, dumbo!
So, ate most of it, scoring 7.2/10 for flavour. Put the food tray down and drifted off into a deep sleep. Until being woken up by ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door chime two hours later. It was Sasha or Sarah… maybe Samantha, but call her Sam. Yes… Sam, I think. Soon got me sorted, slipped her a choice of treats, and did not go with her to lock the door. Why? Well, Deana had not let me know if the maintenance was coming today or tomorrow, or even at all, to mend the shower. So, I have to stay up in case they do call later on tonight. Christ, he’s banging away upstairs again, at 22:25hrs, now! As inconsiderate scumballs go, he’s got to be one of the most effective! The Turd!
In other words: Bad Luck Spreading
NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE KNOW THAT: They do now!
Droopy, eye-lidded, tired, and struggling to see, I pressed on with this blog and got it posted off to WordPress. Fighting heroically to stay awake just in case anyone arrives to sort the shower tonight. They didn’t.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THOUGHTS ON THE LAST CRAP FOUR DAYS…
Could any Monday have gone any klutzier? Mind you, Fri, Sat & Sunday were no cushier, To get through these days of such mental torture… I needed a stout heart, resilience and some tincture! Let downs, failures, and cock-ups have been friskier!
I just want life to go easier and cushier, The ears and eyes are worse… as is Doreen Dementia, I don’t expect to get any healthier or fitter… But why am I in a state of constant dysphoria? I expect as I age to feel more poorlier… Why have I contracted Arithmaphobia and phagomania?
I fear I may have also got habromania… My brain and memory have both caught ecdemomania! A Covid outbreak in the flat’s got folks in a fluster, Anymore Whoopsiedangleplops, and I’ll go dafter, I hope my insanity is only a temporary squatter. On the bright side… there must summat for sure… Ah, yes! I’m bald, so, no need to pay for a coiffeur? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
Having woken up with the carer hovering over me, lovely gal, I could not get back to sleep afterwards. Clumpnangles! So I got the Thursday blog finished and posted off. Now it is about 01:45hrs, and I’ve got an Iceland order coming in the morning… Will I wake up to hear the intercom? No chance of hearing it if I’m asleep… Oh, dear… Ah well, better try to get the head down again! No, not yet… I’ll get the Blood Pressure done now; save time in the morning! Does that make sense? I booted up the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China. SIA 150, DIA 63 and the Pulse at an agreeable 80. Then the body temperature was taken with the contactless machine. Oh yes, another good figure recorded. I put the figures on the NHS DVT site. Botherations! or Cataract Cathy, maybe both of them, made me put in the wrong figure for the pulse, 60 instead of 80. And now it’s gone to the monitoring station. I’m gonna look fool again! Mind you that comes easy to me, being a fool. I’ll ring them later in the morning, maybe send an email pointing out my cock-up. Worded differently, though. Tsk!
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and I realised I had not unlocked the door, so made my way, rather easily actually, barely hobbling to the door and opening it… noticed that I had not got any trousers on! I hid behind the door and told Carer Valerie of my predicament. Grabbed a towel from the airer to cover my privates (although a postage stamp would have sufficed) and went into the junk room to get some trousers on. I think I heard Valerie saying, “That’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll wait here…” Fumbling to get the trews on as quickly as possible; resulted in a stubbed toe and bruised shoulder. Tsk! Valerie got the medications sorted out, and gave me a minute or two chinwagging, Bless her. She didn’t fancy a nibble or drink this morning. Thanked her and apologised for the lack of clothing, and started to explain about it and she was sympathetic I think, telling me again ‘Not to worry’♥
Back on the computer getting the blog start prepped for an hour or so, and out burst ♫ Oh, Susana ♫. It was the Iceland delivery. When I got the door open, the bags had been left handily for me to gag them in. Fair do’s to the lad, when he saw my stick and me limping, (stubbed toe the cause) he asked it I wanted him o put them through the door for me. But the lad had kept the good all neat, and I could see nothing crushed or any leaks, and he arrived on time and thought I’d best not delay him after he’s made the effort, so I replied, “No thanks, I can get them in one at a time, cheers!” I regretted saying that afterwards. Hehehe! I banged my shoulder again, starting off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley this time as I got the bags into the kitchenette and the beer into the junk room. With the massive increases in the cost of the G&T’s etc., I thought I’d tempt them with the Heineken lager instead. Iceland sent all the bread ordered today. Silly me was sure there were going to be unavailable, as there normally is… But no, not today. So I had a heck of a job, reshuffling the freezer contents to make room to get all the cobs and bread in it. At least I won’t run out of bread for a while. Haha! I’d only got two frozen items ordered. One pot of my favourite No-Moo ice cream and some No-Meat mushroom steaks to try. They were not cheap. I had to take them out of the box to get them into the fridge, and that the box they came in; could have been half the size it was, and there would still have been room in it for the miniature-sized diddly mushroom steaks. I just hope that they are tasty enough to be worth it! Getting the fresh stuff in the fridge was even more difficult to achieve. As you can see on the right here, there was not a lot of spare room left spare!
I did manage to put a couple of the bottles in there in case the Carer of the day or evening fancies a cold lager.
I assembled all the rubbish and mess that I’d made during the food delivery and the sorting it out.
As I got out of the door into the three flats foyer, the noise from nowhere and everywhere was going off. It sounded the same as it the other day, and confusing it was! To me, it sounded like a machine running, like s giant sewing machine. To Josie, it sounded like a drilling noise. And if both Josie and I can hear it, it must be loud. Neighbour Malcolm gave a different thought; he said it was like rushing water. I got to the. I got into the lift lobby to go to the waste chute room at the far end, and I swear it was louder than ever. All a part and parcel of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me! I got back in the flat and had a wee-wee; I’ve not mentioned them yet, but they were regular if short ones.
I had a wash, and I checked out the ankle and legs. Apart from a little bloating on the right foot, they were so much better than yesterday. Which made a nice change.
On the computer, I made a start on the Local News Snippet blog, then started this one going. Again, the time has vanished; it’s 13:00hrs already? I thought I ought to get on the WordPress Reader to catch up on others’ blogs posted. So, I did!
He’s of again, bang, thud, clang. Tap-tapping. I wouldn’t be the same living here if wasn’t up there above me, with his mechanical operas keeping me company. Got the new spuds in the saucepan. Then quartered some large mushrooms, seasoned them and got them going in the crock pot. I seemed to be doing well and considered going into a Smug-Mode.
Buy, my EQ warned me against doing so, so I didn’t. Seconds later, I found out why…
Getting the tomatoes out of the fridge, and at just the wrong moment, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley ensured the tomatoes ended up on the floor. As I moved to try to catch some, I trod on one! so…
I only went down on one knee this time, but it was Cartilage Kathy’s right one, and ever since, she’s been showing her displeasure at my actions, in the form of stinging a fair bit when I move, stand up, or bend the knee. Hey-Ho! I rubbed in a load of Phorpain Gel.
Got down in the c1962 recliner, and I kept a keen eye on the timing for the fodder cooking. Most importantly… and the difficult bit in staying awake! But I managed it and was soon getting the nosh served up and cleaning the mess I’d made. It’s becoming a habit lately, making messes and having Accifauxpas when cooking?) The meal on the tray balanced dangerously on the folds on my stomach flab. Everything on display looked divinely appealing. Apart from the first time tried, No-Lamb lamb steaks had been tried before, and nothing let me down. The expensive No-Lamb Lamb steaks were okay. But not worth the money. They were not as good as the No-Meat Burgers I usually have. But Iceland doesn’t even have them on the list for sale now; I hope they get some more in soon. Humph! Anyway, I gave this pone a Taste-Rating of 9.2/10!
I put the tray on the carers table and promptly drifted off into a much-needed sleep… But not for long; half an hour later, the ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ tune awakened me with a shock! Joseph arrived. At least I had some trousers on. No top clothing, though; I think the grossness of my blubbery stomach shook him a bit. Hahaha! Poor lad. Got the meds sorted, and I offered Joseph a drink or nibble in thanks, and he refused them – that’s Valerie then Joe? Wished him a good evening as he departed with the waste bag for the bin. (I remembered to ask him to take the bag tonight) I locked the door and climbed back into the recliner to get back to sleep. A futile effort in my gaining any time with Sweet Morpheus. I lay there, well, getting up a few times for a wee-wee, for an hour or two, then got up and back on the computer to update this blog and then lay out the Snippets one. Did the Ode below and got it on. Then posted it off to WordPress.
I made so many mistakes in getting this ode from CorelDraw into this blog that I got the first verses out of sync. But it’s now 00:45hrs, and am so tired. Luckily this ode is so bad, that you may not notice. Hehehe!
06:00hrs: I roused from my slumber and felt full of life and ready to get upped and at ’em… Thankful to find I was still alive. Blessed the Lord, praised my good fortune, I thanked the Heavens for another day of joy and merriment. And admired the state of my muscular six-pack stomach… Of course, t’was all a figment of my half-asleep, depressed, tortured, nervously agitated, dominated, feeble, and confused mind.
Truth? I felt horrible! Physically, things were not too bad at all! But only mentally. Fair enough, I’d done something to the right hand’s middle finger, at the bottom of the nail. The tiniest bit of something sticking up, and each time I caught it on something, it stung like hell. Finger beginning to swell and redden? No idea what had caused it. The ulcer is forever glowing and growing one day, then sinking and hiding the next? But the Doctor said she’s not bothered about this, so it will be alright. She was concerned with the fluid retention and swelling and took the time to talk to me in great depth to explain the malady and how and what to do… She said (To Meridian’s Natalie on the phone): ‘Tell him to put his feet up.’ Nothing like a caring Doctor, I imagine. But how would I know? Commenced. The body temperature was once again almost perfect, close to the said optimum of 35°f, with 34.6°f. Perfick! Sphygmomanometerisationing session next. These returns were far better than yesterday’s were. SYS down to 134, DIA 63, and the Pulse down to 79 bpm. This looked good to me. I got the computer and put the figures into the NHS DVT site to see what they make of it. I got a details list; come back this time.The Blood Pressure was pleasing, especially with it going up yesterday. I’m out of the red zone again! Very satisfied with being n the pre-high area. I’ve not done that very often… well, in the last month, I have a few times.
Carer Richard arrived, looking a little more sprightly and not yawning. I was going to ask him if he’d got a decent sleep in at last, but he volunteered that he has four days off now and will see me next Monday. He needed a break. I bet someone doesn’t come in, and they call on Richard again. Poor lad! He checked the medical drawer to ensure sufficient medications were available until Monday. He noticed I winced when I was getting his treats out; when I caught whatever it was, thingamabob, whatnot, near the nail. Told me to level the bit sticking up and put a plaster on it. So, I did! Feeling an idiot for thinking of doing that myself! Haha! We had a natter after Richard had done the medicationings. Taking my waste bags with him on the way out to the rubbish chute for me.
I got the kettle on, and as I did, it was as if someone had turned the light off… The sky went ominously dark very quickly. I got the Canon camera and took this photo. I was expecting a downpour any moment, but no! Within a few minutes, the light had returned. Dr Who would have known what was going on? But not me. Hahaha! I noticed the usually plus green meadow at the bottom of the tree copse was looking a little weather-worn. But not around the edges, but only in the centre? A dog-walker was picking her little white dog’s poo and putting it into a bag for the poo box. This got me thinking of my younger days living in the Meadows. If memory serves me right, and my long-term memory usually does, the short-term usually affects me. I can recollect that there was an abundance of dog droppings on my paper rounds, and I reckon 74% of it was white or grey. Even some of the cats’ evacuations were! No one ever thought of collecting the turds back then, of course. They’d get dried and then used as kickabouts by the local kids. I’m assuming the whiteness was due to malnutrition of some sort? Looking back a the food given to some dogs makes me shudder. A lot of dogs ate with the family. Whatever they ate, the dogs did. Then along came the new Lassie and Chappie canned dog food. 3d a can! This equates to about… let’s see, there were 240ds to a pound, so if divide 240 by three, excuse me while I use the calculator… that would buy 80 cans for a quid! Those were the days! Today one tin of Chappie cost £1.30; what percentage rise in price is that?
But the dogs on our terrace did not take to Lassie or Chappie. Apart from Mr & Mrs Wright’s Rover. I knew that Mrs Dukes Sammy, Mr Marsinacks dog (I can’t remember his name), and the barber, Mr Barker’s three dogs, Lilli, Brutus and Chelsea, hated them. Not so bad for those three. The owner could afford fresh or canned meat for them. Other dogs continued to pass the white lumps, most of them going from bin to bin in search of fodder. Still, no one complained about the dog mess… I think we thought it would just evaporate. Ha, Ha!
I spent hours and hours doing this blog. No one called, no hassle… apart from the odd overture of noises from the antisocial, smarmy Herbert in the flat above But, not a lot today… up till now, anyway.
I’ve run out of bread; I do have some part-baked cobs to use, though. I made an order from Iceland for next week and ordered a few loaves; there should be room in the freezer for the bread by then.
Getting late already. I got the meal sorted. I worked things out oven-cooking-wise (Huh!); The veggie burgers needed 30 minutes cooking, the potato Rosti’s 20, so I planned to put the burgers in for 10-minutes, then add the rosti. And what a danged mess I made in doing so.
Muggins here did it the opposite way around! Realised five minutes later that and removed the rostis, burning my wrist as I took them out, and dropped one on the floor.
Reconstituted and shaped it, burning my finger, and got the burgers in and cooking.
Dropped the plate as I was putting the peas onto it.
Forgot to add the rostis after 10 minutes!
By then, I was pretty self-critical, and at that time. Herbert kicked off with a tap-tap-crunch routine.
I’m sure what I did then, I was pretty stressed and miffed. Somehow, I got the mess sorted in a fashion. And got sat in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, and ate the meal from a tray, balancing precariously on the folds of fat on the stomach. While eating it, I kept getting twinges of guilt for leaving the kitchen sink with food-burnt-on oven trays soaking. Still, despite it all, I ate all of the fodder and scored it an 8/10 for taste.
Put the plate to one side and drifted into a deep, almost heavenly dream-filled sleep. I’ve no idea what I was dreaming of, just knew it must have been something pleasant… For the Evening-Carer had arrived and stood over me, looming and speaking… I thought at first that this must be a part of the dream. My mind was all over the place. The gal had not rung the ♫Oh Susana♫ door chime and came in without me knowing. Good job that I wasn’t changing PPs or wee-weeing in the bucket! I was a little out-of-it, slow, mentally, having just been woken up, so things were foggy about the visit. Got the meds sorted, and I think we had a little natter about something. I walked to the door with her to lock it. Thanked her and offered a treat, unaccepted or wanted on this occasion. Wished the gal all the bestest, and I hastened back for a wee-wee. Not had one for a while.
No shaving cuts… because for some reason, I forgot to shave? The feet looked a little colourful, but I’d not long been out of the shower, so that would have some bearing on their condition, I reckon. Back on the computer, after failing to nod back to sleep. Another ruined night’s sleep. And I’m paying to be woken up to be given my medications! Hahaha!
I found a lost photo of the front car park from this morning. The vehicles are parked rather decoratively, don’t you think? A colourful selection on view. Guilt reminded me that the kitchen had not been cleaned yet. So I cleaned it, then got back to the comp[uter to update this blog to here.
Then I went into ponderisationalistical-mode on what today’s Ode should appertain to… Well, I sat here waiting for inspiration. Listening to the dreaded World-Wide-Hum getting louder and louder, or seemingly so! An hour later, I am still awaiting some afflatus or eureka-moment to inspire the Ode into logicality… no, no, that won’t work. Best do the normal then, type away and hope for the best, no doubt struggling for words, what they mean, how to spell them, miss-typing and spelling, confusion, inanity… the usual stuff then. Sorry about that.
Due to so much time lost faffing about at the Sherwood Dentist, shopping and finding empty shelves, missing the bus back up the hill, and so many wee-wees, I must be in line to be Champion Wee-Weewer; this diary will only be a sketchy one. It’s a good job I spent all night getting the graphics done!
In between the repetitive wee-weeing.Tsk!
0515hrs: I’ve been up all night! Got the ablutionisationing done. Came out to get the kettle on, bleary-eyed! The odd wee-wee was taken.
I got out the Chinese sphygmomanometer and got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing. Hahaha!
The Blood pressure was; SYS 146, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 71bpm. Obviously, the Pulse had dropped a little from the last two days. The body temperature was not bad at all, at 33.5°f.
I checked the time available, and I decided to visit the (NHS) National Health Services DVT patients check site. It came out as a smidgeon higher in the red than yesterday’s test did. Made this graphicalisation on CorelDraw, then began to ready things for the hobble top Sherwood, remembering to use the homemade checklist.
Done.
Richard arrived. We managed a decent natter, and he checked the medication drawer. Selected a cold plonk from the fridge, and he departed a tired lad, taking the waste bags with him to the shute for me. I got the list of things needed for the hobble into Sherwood for the Dentist visit. Then prepped things, making sure things were in the jacket pockets or the Walker-Trolley. Walked to Sherwood. As you can see, I forgot to put the woolly hat in the basket, Humph!
. So, I set off out and took the lift down to the ground floor. Taking this selfie as I did so. Of course, I wanted to go down via the 12-floors of the concrete fire escape route, just to keep myself in shape, with a body like what mine is; one likes to look after it. Plus, with me being a young, athletic fitness fanatic… alright then! Don’t laugh! Haha! You understand. I made my way along the inner link corridor and made a fool of myself… it’s easily done for me, looking a plonker. Even easier nowadays since Vascular Doreen Dementia took up residence in my brain. I started to ask Deana and Julie (Wardens) in their office if they could ask Meridian’s Natalie if she’s heard anything from the Diabetes people about where the courses are and the transport from Nottingham Community place. It all came out wrong, and the girls were more confused than before I’d started talking!
I hobbled down Winchester Street, turned left down Mansfield Road and visited the Oran Food Stores Cash-Point. My brain froze as I got my card out – oddly enough, I remembered the number but was flummoxed as to which way round to put the card in the machine! I felt a right-chump going in to ask the lady in the shop! The look on her face said something like, “He shouldn’t be out on his own!” But she gave me a twinkling of a smile (derision, or sympathy-based, I’m not sure!) as I thanked her and returned to get some money from the ATM. Back in the shop, but they didn’t 3 of the 4 things that I’d hoped to get. As I mentioned the other day, It’s crumbling, the UK!
I limped back up the Mansfield Road incline over Winchester Street at the traffic lights junction, and I called into the Wilko store. They didn’t have a single one of the items on their sad, all-but-bare shelves! Humph! e. I needed some Wilko Fresher granules and washing-up liquid, Zoflora lemon, and their own brand 15-litre blue waste bags. I carried on, feeling a smidgeon pee’d off at my lack of success. The wind was cool and getting up a little, a summer portend of rain to come?
I called into two charity shops to see if any bobble or flat caps were on sale. No!
This surgery always gives bother of some sort or another, a few of them this time. Getting up the three chunky, concrete steps with the walker was not going well! I was rescued and helped a chap just arriving. A lady phoned me yesterday and asked that I get to the surgery early. Well, I had done 20 minutes despite the fortress defences having to be fought through. The receptionist was hard to hear, and ten minutes or so late, I was commanded to take a seat; someone will fetch you! “Thank you!”
I sat down and had the battle to see the crossword clues as the lighting was terrible and the cataract. They had left a door open in the waiting room, which usually would not bother one… but I had a further 50 minutes before I was seen by a dentist… I’ll explain.
A lady came to me and asked if I could manage to get up the two flights of stairs to my dentist? As calmly as possible, I replied: “Each time I come, this happens, no I can’t get up the stairs, as I told staff last time, and the previous five times, and still you book me in with the top-floor wallah!” Lady (Doing her best), “It will be a while before we can re-sort a ground floor surgery for you” – Me: “Six months ago, I was told that I’d automatically be on the ground floor from now on, but no!” “We’ll sort it out…” “Oh, good, thanks!” Back to struggling with the cool breeze and the crossword book.
Forty minutes later, I was led, well, more marched, to the far front surgery. The whole examination couldn’t have lasted longer than five or six minutes! I again asked if it was possible to have all the teeth out? Reply? “I don’t think so! I mentioned the loose tooth at the front next to where its former neighbour fell out seven months ago. Reply? “Do you want me to pull it?” Me: “Well, now you, mention it…” Interrupted: “No, it should last until the next visit”.
Aghast at how I’d been treated, I asked her for a prescription for some more of the Duraphat toothpaste. She gave me a prescription that had to be stamped to legalise it at the reception when you pay. So I went to pay up. Now you can add another five minutes or more while the three receptionists were all on the phone, no clients anywhere? But I needed the Duraphat, so I stood there in silence. Eventually, one of the receptionists signalled with a backward flipped head-nod for me to pay my dues and stamped the prescription for me. I needed help again, this time in getting me and the trolley down the steps on the way out. It’s hard to believe all that just happened, but it did.
Up to the top of the hill, to the Lloyds Chemists, to get the Duraphat. I bought some Germolene, being as the chemist had some in stock! I bought the last two tubes. But nothing is too good for Little Inches Fungal Lesion! Hehehe! Paid up, out and back down to the bus stop. A long time since I used this, and I tried to read the timetable for the 40 bus – mission impossible! A lady arrived, who I thought I’d seen at the flats, and we got into a good nattering session. Great sense of humour; I must try to see her again! The bus arrived, and we were soon back up at the flats. The next ten minutes proved how much I’d been missing getting out. As I met Margaret, who I’ve not seen for months now. We had a gossip. Then another bus came in, and Chrissie got off, Margaret got on the bus, and we walked through the inner route through Winchester and Winwood Courts back to our Woodthorpe Court.
Two people chatted as they passed Chrissie and me by. Then Natalie from Meridian stopped to tell me she was sorting out a lift for the Diabetes course. No details yet. Then I met Cheeky Charley, the carer, and Chrissie and I got the lift up to our flats.
A bit embarrassing:, with the excitement of seeing people, I got confused as to which floor we were on and when the doors opened, I stood there waiting for Chrissie to get out of the cage… it was my floor – Oh, I did feel a fool! Bade farewell to Chrissie. ♥ And red-facedly, I made haste to my apartment. No sooner had I got the trolley into the flat than the need for a wee-wee had me scrambling into the wet room. The timing and mot getting caught out while I was in Sherwood, Truly Amazing! Of course, I was wise not to go into Smug-Status because the AMS must have lasted for a good five or six minutes! . I got the things put away. I’m looking forward to the vegan franks again; I’ve had some earlier in the year, and they were good. If I’ve got any chips in the freezer, I may have them with the sausages – eventually.
I got on with the blogging at long last. But not before I took these shots as the sky suddenly brightened up. There’s something about the beautiful to me, clouds.
Of course, I do enjoy my pareidolia. I saw a face mask and eyes in these photographs, traces of a face as well. Do you see them? On with the blogging. I really need some sleep, but the blog must go on! Hehehe!
♫Oh, Susana♫ came from the door chime, and I got up to answer it; it was dear Josie bringing back her weekend meal tray and pots. She volunteered how much she liked them this week. Which was nice to hear. The right foot was hurting somewhat when I took the things off of Josie, so I took a look at the plates and ankle. Sure enough, the right leg and foot looked like they were swelling up again? Ah, that might be due to the little hobble I took earlier? See how quick I was there? I can be like lightning at times! Hahaha! The Evening Carer could be here at any time from now. I’ll make a start on the day’s ode, I think. Hello, the rains starting! By the time I’d got the camera out to take a snap of it, it had stopped. Ah, well, every little bit helps!
I was just about to mention that the wee-weeing had stopped. But no, more annoying, after-dribbling wee-wees are back again. I’ve changed my mind and am going to get something to eat instead.
The doggie hot dog sausages I’d cooked had a tough plastic skin on them that I’d not noticed before. I had to skin them before eating. They looked terribly pale then, and the smooth texture, that was not appealing whatsoever to look at. But my gum, they tasted delicious! The sliced potatoes and tomatoes were disappointing. The part-baked bread was gorgeous! And the No-Bull vegan ice cream to follow, as you know by now, I loved! The overall Taste Rating was 8.2/10. I washed the pots and got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner. Put the TV on, and I promptly drifted off into the land of Nod. For half an hour or so…
I was rudely awakened by the tune of ♫ Oh, Susan ♫, and Carer Sarah (I might have the wrong name there, sorry if so) came in. Soon got the medications sorted for me. Selected a cold can of G&T for her choice of treats from the fridge, picked up the waste bag, and off she went. Thank you!
Could I get back to sleep again? Well, yes, I did this time! I think it was sheer exhaustion, the upsetting farce, and the hobble the dentist helped. I slept right through until about 01:00hrs, no jumping awakes, no wee-wees needed. Grrreat! In fact, as I made my way to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I sensed the need for the Porcelain Throne. . It turned out the Constipation Conrad had taken over the innards functions, and despite my best efforts to move things, nothing evacuated from the rear end. However, an FPBWW (Forceful-Painful-Blasting) marathon of a wee-wee flowed out as if from a hose pipe! I washed the dandies and things and returned to my chair, hoping to get some sleep again.
Amazingly, I soon got to kip and was dreaming of being on a big wheel, with an old girlfriend… and jumped awake so violently, with wind escaping flutteringly, from my rear end. Dang, Dang…Dang Dang! The race was on to get back to the Throne! Tearing free of the pyjama bottoms, I plonked my elephantine-bellied body down on the seat… the biggest, longest, and it is possible, making a raspberry-sounding-like release that shook the foundations of my insides! Then, this time, a wee-wee session arrived; in the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. Each I felt it was coming to an end, the trickle refreshed! Well, if nothing else, I was getting a variety of WC and Throne visits. Hehehe!
Some say crime is committed by the riffraff, the social residue, And we’re all aware this is in itself, true… Those who escape punishment are often the true blue… Bankers, the rich can get away with crimes, so often do! Anteriority and ruling classes are dishonest too…
But get prosecuted? There are so very few! Worldwide there is deception, greed, murders, a hullabaloo… For the Grenfell fire, justice is long overdue… A Tory Council killed so many people, seventy-two! Over Grenfell, the councillor’s actions are still under review! It makes my blood boil and stew…
Why no protests? Cause they were immigrants or a Jew? From Lithuania, India, China, Pakistan, or Timbuktu? Misleading claims, lies, and cover-ups, for us to misconstrue, The brave firefighters dejected, hitherto… Their ladders were too short, they suffered Deja Vu, The victims and relatives need justice, but from who? Let’s be honest; prosecutions are long overdue!
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NEWS SNIPPETS
You can see why they needed so many weapons about… All of their drugs, it’s worth the law to flout? Bet they drink champagne, and the police on stout, With so many weapons, they could give Putin a hand-out? Every gang member, each one a lout! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Well, these angelic little Angels would tempt most waverers on the bringing back hanging to reconsider! Don’t they look nervous? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
He was feeling a little depressed. This can happen to anyone… Defending himself, is he an arrogant paragon arrogant? Obviously, money-mad, being a plastic surgeon, Why not an EENT man, cancer, or psychosurgeon? Mayhaps he drinks champagne by the flagon? Has an evening meal of caviar and sturgeon? His hopes of being found innocent? A smidgeon! If so, he can run away and start surgery in the Yukon! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I hope this murdering scumball is not getting paid for his appearance on Gogglebox? I’d bet that he is! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
An Uber spokesperson said: “The safety of riders and drivers is a top priority for Uber, and this is a concerning report. We will investigate this incident.” Must be more to this, worra you think? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Result in the minus for the first time in a while! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchcock continues to fail to win in the free Play-To-Win competition! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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These are the latest available records of Nottingham Violent Crime Statistics. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ODE of UNRELATED THOUGHTS
Peripheral Neuropathy has made me ambisinister.
We’ve got Rishi or Lizzie for Prime Minister…
Either one could prove to be sinister,
I was never much of a student or educator…
But I self-taught myself later…
Which was a disaster…
He hated me… the headmaster,
On the balcony last night, I thought I saw Jupiter,
Taking 10-minutes of wee-weeing; makes me loopier…
Do you think my Arithmophobia…
Would it stop me from getting a job as a croupier?
I think my memory is getting more forgettier! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:00hrs: Woke with the brain ticking over. (I’m not saying it was functioning, more like a chugging noise the engine makes when it won’t start)
Made brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and went on WordPress, comments, then the WP Reader. Turned off the computer, and I started clearing things to get ready for the ambulance lift. Emptied, washed and disinfected the rather well-used NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).
SYS 148, DIA 72, Pulse 82. Not too good, but it’s been worse, I suppose. I had a bit of good luck here. I dropped the flipping Sphygmomanometer as I was taking out the tubing… and it fell in the waste bucket that had last night s PPs a,d used tissues from the bleed in it; thus, there was no damage; to it, and it still worked perfectly well!
Richard arrived, not at the promised 06:00hrs, but at 0:730hrs. Not that it mattered, cause the lift had not arrived yet. Richard seemed oblivious to his failings, bless him. As I said, it mattered not after all. Another bit of luck there, the lift being later: Great! Again! Richard sorted the medications, gave him some extra nibbles and plonk cause I thought he was going to come early, and told him of the Diabetes mix-up. Hehehe!
A little loser this time… yet more luck? I resisted going into Smug-Mode for the third time. Did the ablutions while I was in the wet room ablutions. I still found myself going into yet another, all the same… Why? I’ll tell yers; Not a single cut or bleed doing the teeth and shaving! No toe stubbing, Dizzy Dennis’s, involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dancing either. Not to mention no falls, banging of any limbs, or walking into anything!
I settled in the swivel chair with the magnifying glass and the crossword book. I’d positioned myself in the hallway from the front room door, as I did last Friday, and awaited the arrival of the lift there. So I could hear it, in case the intercom buzzers. I can’t hear it from the front room.
As I sat there waiting, I felt and saw the ankles and legs beginning to visibly swell up, and the ankle ulcers glow and sting when the trousers, or anything, touched or brushed against them.
The telephone rang, which I thought I’d miss, as I was sat, my back facing the room, and had to manoeuvre my way to get into the landline in time, but I managed it. The lift driver said they would be here in 15 minutes. (Which would be 09:00hrs, and I would be late for the appointment, Ah, well!) I went down and sat in the flats lobby with the crossword book but couldn’t see to do any, and the reading glasses were back up in the flat.
They arrived, and I got into the ambulance. We picked another patient up en route, and he went in with me to the reception. I was told to sit there, with a stern pointing finger, until I was called for. So, I did!
A lady beckoned me (this happened before in August 1962, Margaret her name, I think… I digress, sorry!). A gentleman came along and summoned me to another waiting area, where I was told to wait to be called. So, I did. More questions and eye tests, a little different this time, back to the holed discs and tested both eyes. Ten minutes later, she said, I will now go to see the ophthalmologist in charge for a final test and decision on whether it can be done or not due to the misshapen cornea I have.
Out and through to another waiting area. Minutes later, a chap summoned me into a room, where the lady in charge was sitting, and it was obvious she was in charge! No messing or humour was apparent, needed or accepted from her. She spent some time on the chin machine again and asked more questions. Then, I was commanded to go to the young man’s device for some clour flashing exercises. It was not easy for me having to sit still, with Shoulder Shuddering Shirley giving some, and he had to keep holding the eyelids open from the other side of the machine. Cause for some reason, I could not open my eyes wide enough? Minutes later, more Good News & Luck – The lady told me she was putting my name down on the list to have the surgery!!! I dare not ask how long it might be.
Hehe! Back to the initial reception to ask for transport home. I took a circuitous route to get to it cause I got a little lost en route. I sat down around 1030hrs, thinking how well it went this morning. I was still there at 14:00hrs but thinking a little differently. Eventually, an ersatz ambulance came up and asked my name. And out we plodded into his vehicle. I was pleased to be going home, for some reason.
He took my trolley, removed the wire basket and put it in the cabin. Came back and asked if I was a diabetic when he noticed the legs were looking a little inflamed and rough, to say the least. ‘Yes!’ “Where’s your biscuits?” ‘The ambulance driver just took them and crushed them in the trolley walk. He’s just collapsed, mate!’ Today, there was a shortage of humour, laughter and smiling! We then moved to the back of the site to a different section altogether, and we picked up two blokes in wheelchairs. (Getting later all the time!) We dropped the man at the back off in Carrington, not far from where the house was; the only good thing about this was it brought on a bit of pleasure and appreciation of living where I do now! At least the chap next to me was talkable to; we had a natter en route. I was dropped off next. Gave the other bloke and the driver a choice of plonk from the trolley. That cheered them up a smidge.
In and up to the flat, I knocked my elbow on the door frame as I hurriedly got indoors to have a wee-wee. Stubbed my toe and, in my haste to get Little Inchie out, started the fungal lesion bleeding! I thought things were going a bit too well for me!Jon and a half cleaning up and medicating things in need (the lesion).
I came out after washing and medicationing, sorted the mess in the hallway, and found a leaflet in the letterbox from Nottingham City Homes. They are organising a Special Event for all Winwood Heights Residents in Winwood Court communal lounge. Thursday, July 28th 2022, Twixt 11:00>14:00hrs. Attending will be the Nottingham Fire & Rescue Service, Community Policing, Nottingham Voluntary Services, the NHS, and more! NCH (Nottingham City Homes) representatives. Building safety, Tenancy & Estate Management, Caretaking and Tenant Involvement Teams. Also, a TRA (Tenants & Residents Association) General Meeting on Monday, 25th July 2nd. A few gentle reminders: Please do not leave food out for the birds, as it is attracting some less welcome visitors. Rats and other vermin. Also, over the past few months, a few people, mainly youngsters, entered the flats and caused a nuisance. So be vigilant. Only let people in who you know and make sure that entrance doors are always closed after you have used them – and never leave ajar any fire exits.
Going to get some fodder, chips and Veggie-Chilli! Had the last of the pod peas with it – sad, heartbreaking, I may have a sob later. The Flavour rating given was a worthy 8.9/10! Apart from the bread being a smidge stale.
Carer arrived, and she soon got me sorted out. Thanked her with some strawberries from the fridge and her choice of a can of plonk. She took the waste bags out to the chute with her.
Washed the pots; I had a wee-wee. Darned lengthy follow-ups!) Got my head down. And had a decent kip for once. Grrreat!
I had a terrible job getting to sleep. It was a bad night; constantly waking up with a twitch or jerk. So, I overslept by hours! No time to get the ablutions done, as the morning Carer could arrive at any time. I’m afraid my mind was all over the place, absent, and befuddled, sufficient for me to lose what day it was. I started so many things going, none of which gained any fruition, never mind getting completed. Yet I continued to potter about in the wet room, spare room, kitchen and front room, not getting anything done but starting so many tasks and forgetting about them… I knew this, but I could do nothing about it to rectify my stupidity… Ah, that could be my motto!
I’ve just read on my memory pad, ‘rubber balls’, I think. Not the foggiest why I wrote it! ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the doorbell, and the morning Carer came in, it was Richard. Which surprised me cause he doesn’t usually come on a Thursday (At this time, I’d not been informed it was Wednesday and not Thursday, all a part of my visit from Confusion Conrad, Tsk!) Poor Richard was still coughing away; been this for a few days now; the lad has. I mentioned that I hoped it was not Covid, and this seemed to upset Richard (not a lot!). He replied in a resolute unquestionable tone; it was not Covid. So I left the subject. He couldn’t stay too long; he’d got other calls to do. But we still managed a little to and fro nattering. Handed him some nibbles, flavoured water and plonk. Went to the door with him (I am a talker!), on his way out – at which he put on a heavy-duty Covid mask. It looked the business too. I think he said he was coming to do me on the morrow morning… but how I was with chronology and dates… I might well be wrong. Hahaha!
I got the computer started. Will I ever get a blog written today? Made a start on getting the photos online and sorted. Then, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out again. It was the J Sainsbury’s delivery coming. It took me ages to sort them out, not that were any particular difficulties or problems; it was my brain! I got the fodder sorted… with the podding of the peas as well; it took me over an hour-plus! Humph! And I have some to do for tomorrow yet. How I’m going to find time to do this blog, I don’t know… Tsk! As expected, I got sidetracked by the beautiful view from the balcony.
That was it… of out into the broad-walk balcony, Canon camera in hand, and had a battle getting the windows open at both ends, so I could take different views of the emerging sun from the rear of the tower blocks. Interesting that out there, this view is Her Majesties Prison, Nottingham. The City Hospital, twelve murder locations (2021), and fourteen at least drug-growing homes. They were raided last year by the Nottingham Constabulary. The previous year. Jillie’s house and businesses galore. Apart from the TSB Bank, Faucet & Albatross Wines, three restaurants, three take always, a flower shop and a carpet shop. Also, a sub-Police Station, Second-hand furniture store, greengrocers and butchers; have all been closed down. Oh, and Jillie tells me that two new unwanted or needed take-aways have opened in the same shops that the earlier entrepreneurs went bankrupt. A new Charity shop is opening that’ll make eight in the half-mile length of Mansfield Road in Sherwood. Oh, and the new J Sainsbury local store that was being built where the Council closed the library, spent two years fitting out… have pulled out of the deal! I’m waffling, sorry.
I phoned Julie the Warden and told her about some strawberries and flower treats available; she said she’d pop up later. Still working on her own, I think, bless her.
At long last, I made a start on the blog. After a few hours, mostly sorting out the photographs to use, I realised I had not done any washing of my finely hones, muscular body yet. Humph! I got the pod peas prepared for tomorrow… I was still in denial mode about it being Thursday.
I did another whole bag of the delightful and much-loved garden peas. Got then them into the saucepan, as from the door blasted ♫Oh, Susan♫. It was Warden Julie. Handed her the strawberries, roses and some drinkies. When I asked her if she could drop the other strawberries off for Francis: Oh, dearie me… She told me that Fran had taken a bad fall yesterday and was in the hospital, but she’d keep them in her fridge if Fran returned. I thanked her and went into worry mode when Julie had gone. Poor Francis! I hope it’s not severe. I’ll find out if she is in the City or QMC; if she’s in the QMC, I can visit her after having my cataracts done! At first, this thought cheered me a smidgeon. Then reality dawned; wot a clot! How can I go to see Fran when I won’t be able to see anything? Also, they have kindly arranged a lift both ways, so that puts the mocker on me seeing how she is going, too!
I’ll have to get a rush on; it’s almost midnight, so I need to rush from here on.
I hastened into the wet room, mind all aflutter, thinking of having some bread and butter? Chinwagging to myself, a constant mutter? Concentration going, but the ankle ulcer looked a treat; so much calmer and no pain whatever! Cut myself twice shaving, but they were very minor. The session went very quickly, although I took the time to have two toe-stubbings. Got the belated Blood Pressure done. Fair results all around! The body temperature was also a good reading! No complaints whatsoever today. Apart from the brain’s stubborn, at a loss status. I got back on the computer to work on this blog, only to find I couldn’t find the new set of subtitles I’d done yesterday on CorelDraw? So another plan and route to go, gone! In the extreme, more time is lost.
Hours later, the Amazon delivery arrived, forgot all about it? Me? Yes! I’ll sort the photos of it later, sometime.
No, I’ll do it now.
Carer Valerie arrived; I showed her the new years supply of hemp capsules; I couldn’t read what was in them. Val had a look and told me Hemp and Omega 3, 6 & 9?
No, I’m not going to have time to finish this and post it! I’ll post the stand copied from Blogger. Then in the morning, I can get the Ode created.
Have to get something to eat soon.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out again; it was Josie, Bless her, bringing me the bananas to make up for the terrible, split-open mushy ones that Iceland delivered. How kind! I thanked her, took them into the kitchen and tried one straight away…
Oh, dear! These bananas, too, were bruised but not as bad as the others from Iceland were; they’d been split in transit. I opened another one to try again to satisfy my craving for an edible fruit… Look at the bottom photo, please. This one had brown-black pieces of… well, I’ve no idea what they were. I think they were given birth from the inside cause the inner part of the peel had traces of the same colour? Does anyone know why the bananas are affected in this way? Obviously, with the Iceland ones, it was just lousy packing and handling. But Josie bought these at the shop. Could it be the not weather? Or will it be put down as usual to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits? Or the Fata-Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?
I took a snap of the evening sky as I was prepping the late nosh. The first one had a different hue for a change, just after the sun had gone below the earth’s horizon.
Ten minutes later, I took the second picture. The rippled clouds were now showing. I seem to recall my neighbour Jack, who’d just arrived from Kingston with his family, telling me something about rippled clouds and what they portend. Tsk! But I need not have written that cause I’ve forgotten while typing it what it was they indicated…
I carried on cooking, and as I set out the food tray, the need for a wee-wee arose. I didn’t make it in time! Shucks! I had to strip and change into the night attire and put the trousers in the bucket to soak in disinfectant and liquid soap. I forgot to add this sort of occurrence in the Ode, so any whippersnappers can be reminded of what’s to come. And when it wants to. Hahaha!.
As I took this rather tasty-looking feast into the main (other) room, I gave myself a relatively superior toe-stubbing. I just smiled, laughed it off, didn’t swear or curse, and merrily continued to get settled.
Whippersnapper Advice in Ode
Medicines, tablets, injection and tincture…
Morning routine, you get the picture?
Bladder & bowels, things get murkier…
Definitely, much more messier!
Bleeding; things get nastier,
I don’t mean to be a minger…
Or even a panic-monger,
Whippersnappers must know of the danger,
Awaiting them, after they are a teenager,
Life will slow down; it gets drearier,
The disbeliever and the God-fearer,
We’ll all have to disappear…
Which can bring on fear…
But fret not, my dear…
Death can’t be as bad as living here!
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