01:25hrs: I stirred into an ersatz form of semi-life, my not wanting to, with great reluctance… for not only did I need the Porcelain Throne, but I realised I’d only I been in the land of nod for about two hours!
How can I best describe my mood? Grumpy, irritable, disgruntled and somewhat discomposed!
As I untangled my still-tired, rather-prominent, gigantic, wobbly-bellied body from the chair, and rose up onto my poor uncut-toenailed and ulcered feet, to catch my balance; the need for the Throne, encouraged me to cut short the exercises. Hobbling to the wet room, I remembered I have the Iceland delivery coming, and the appointment with the Chiropodist today at 13:30hrs. (Which proved that the brain had kicked into gear earlier than it usually does, Hehe!)
I had livened up a smidge by the time I’d got settled on the Porcelain Throne. Just in time to be fully aware that the evacuation was going to be a struggle! Nothing was going to move of its own accord, as things usually do for me. After, and I’m not joking, about ten-minutes of crosswording, I decided I had no alternative, but to force things along…
From the first agony-ridden inner-push, it must have taken another ten-minutes before anything moved, well there was an initial movement of a very short few seconds duration. It was a matter of giving it some hammer, stopping to recover from the pain and effort, and repeating the process! When things finally restarted, I thought I might split myself in two, crikey was it giving me some stick, in slow motion!
Eventually, a thud and the pressure eased. Oh boy, that had to be one of the worst (most painful) this year! A few minutes, I just sat there, relieved that the removal had been achieved.
When I gingerly got up, the first thing, of course, was TPing. There was not much bleeding, which really surprised me. Harold’s poor old Haemorrhoids were battered and stinging like hell, though! I turned to flush the system, and I did so with no confidence that the dirty great dollop of the evacuated product had the slightest chance of being flushed away, it was gigantic!
To my amazement, everything cleared at the first single flushing? No doubt about it, Constipation Konrad was the easy winner of today’s DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle with Trotsky Terence, for domination.
I got cleaned up and treated Harolds piles to a wash and gently applied some Germoloid ointment. Ahh, that was good! Unfortunately, I dropped the tube and bent straight down to retrieve it, when I should have used the picker-upperer… The bruise on the shoulder triggered SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) off! Cragnanglingeckers!
Now more awake and alert, I returned to get some clothes on, and I spotted last nights medication pot was still full. So I got them taken straight away with some spring water.
Then had a good swig of the damned foul-tasting Docusate Sodium medicine, hoping to avoid going through an evacuation like that again! I remembered to take in the stated minimum of 2 pints (1 ltr) of liquid with it.
I made a brew of Glengettie Gold afterwards. And eat about doing the Health Checks. The Chinese made, Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave a reading in the green again, at 36.8° c. Which happened I noticed when putting in the photos later, was the same as last Friday’s was!
The Sphygmomanometer, Chinese made, and sold by Boot’s, was well up on last Friday, at SYS 178 (158), DIA 84 (76) and the pulse was down at 72 (88). If the SYS stays high over the weekend, I’ll mention it to Nurse Hristina on Monday. That’s a point, will she be calling, cause it is near Christmas, I’ll check the result log for last week.
Ah, yes! I will not miss my beloved, admired, desired, Hristine, the Phlebotomy nurse. Her sweet smile (underneath the mask nowadays, of course), and caring attitude. ♥
I got on the internet, and began to sort out the Thursday updating, and…
I made a brew of Glengettie, had a bag of Frazzles, and got the morning medications taken. Then got the ablutions sorted out early while Mr Fries’ Liberty Global Virgin Internet was dead.
Well, with it being a stand-up session, too ear;y tp use the noisy shower, things went fine! No change of socks until later. A few dropsies, a few nicks shaving. Of course, the medicationing didn’t go painlessly, poor p;d Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Tsk! Other than these, it was an almost normal stand-up wash. The internet came back on (Phew!)
I was just making a start on the blog, and the Iceland man cometh. Looks like I’ve overdone it here?
Hey-ho! I’ve dec,… Hello, a carbuncle or furuncle coming up on the bum I think?
I got the things unpacked and stored away, the fridge and freezer are well stocked once again.
No pain now for fooder, well, garden peas and vinegar maybe. I can see if the mobile shop has any in later on.
I got the minced beef in the crock-pot to cook slowly, then I can add it to the chilli for my dinner this evening, or afternoon, or whenever I get the time and inclination.
When I first put the nice red meat in the pot, it looked delicious.
While putting a few bits away, I nipped back to check on the so-called minced beef. What a colour it had turned to!?!?!
I left it cooking with crossed fingers – not that there were any crossed fingers in the pan like. Hahaha!
I actually got to type some words on the block at long last! Updated some photos, did some comment answering, and sent off the email link I’d forgot to do.
Rechecked on the mince. I had a taste and made some more gravy and added it. I’m now getting a red colour, but only in the juice. This is confusing. Not that I was bothered, it either comes out alright or not. Now I’m getting into the accepting mode again?
I made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and used the milk that had just been delivered. Do you see the size of the bottle? I felt sure I had only ordered a small one.
I uploaded some photos and made a start on this post again. Stopped, and went on Facebooking. Pinterested a snap or two, and back to doing this blog.
The wee-weeing situation was little, and often, there’s not enough bandwidth to keep mentioning them. Humph!
I checked on the Google Calendar to make sure of the foot appointment time.
Herbert joined in with the workers’ chorus for a while. Between them, they actually produced some passable music-like noise, highly commendable. With the drilling being the bass guitars, and Herberts whatever he was using, being the drummer, bass drummer and clanger. When Herbert stopped his tap-tapping, knocking and banging, the noise lost its musicality and became just a ring to put up with. Nice on Herbert!
I persisted with the blogging, took the morning medications. (Well remembered there Inchcock! Hehe!)
The lack of vinegar and tomatoes for Inchies Chilli-Con-Carni creation, dish, bugged me, and then I realised the mobile shop was coming today. I shut down the computer to let in cool, got the three-wheeler trolley walker, filled the box with the small waste bags, and took them to the waste chute.
Got the handwashing done, just two pairs of diabetic bamboo socks. I then got the feet washed, even though I did them earlier, it’s not fair on the toe-cutter; thus, I eliminated any pongs she may otherwise have had to put up with. (Oh, I am a good boy!)
I fought my way out with the trolley-guide, (I can’t understand how I struggled so much, presumably a few mini-dizzies?) I got the bags down the chute.
Then, had a proper performance in getting a lift down to the ground floor. When I did get in the cage, it stopped on the 9th, 7th, 6th and 4th floors, the people waiting at the first three waved me to carry on, not wishing to share the lift, which was fair enough. On the 4th, a chap got in and was telling me that he too had the same problem getting the elevator to stop at his floor, and it took him over twenty-minutes to get this one to stop for him. I felt an affinity with him, Haha!
Down and outside, only a couple of folks waiting for the mobile shop. Angela, who I have missed seeing and talking to, and Josie joined us later. While Angie was being served at the van, her walker guide blew away in the wind, across the road and hit a car parked on the opposite side of the road! I hobbled over with my trolley and retrieved it. I could not see any marks or scratches on the vehicle. Pete, the mobile shop owner, came and collected Angie’s trolley from me for her. Never a dull moment at Windwood Heights! Hehehe!
I got some small apple pies, a bottle of vinegar, he didn’t have any garden peas, and two tomatoes. Not cheap mind, but he has to make a profit. He was selling cars before, but the virus put an end to that. So he got the van and fitted it out, and visits two days, Tuesday and Fridays at the flats for us.
A bit of fame in this photo, for Angie’s husband, Roy. The photo appeared in, of all papers, the Daily Telegraph. That’s Roy at the mobile Shop being served!
Back up to the flat, checked the minced beef. Had a nibble, and it was alright. So I transferred the pot’s contents to the large saucepan on the hob and got the oven warming for later after the toenails had been done, and I can get the part-baked rolls in it.
Got some treats in the trolley, and set off to the Hairdressing Salon. It took me even longer to get a lift down this time! But worserer than that, it was belting down with rain! I was well soaked through, the trolley had rain ibn the bag as did the carriers… miserable feeling!
I sat on the settee in the lobby of Winwood Court, as I was a little early arriving. It took me a while to get down, the settee is far too low for us old folks. Got the crossword book out, but it had got sprinkled with the rainwater, not that it mattered much because I’d forgotten to take a pen with me. Humph!
A minute later, a young lady came out to me, asking if I needed the nail cutting, and she could do me now. The battle to get back up again out of the low settee, took me a while.
After getting all of my details as I sanitised my hands, I was led by Sarah, to a large black swivel chair, with a footstool with extra padding on it. Then warned that the chair was not stable and might move. We chatted all through the few minutes cutting of the nails. Which was super-nice!
They arranged for another visit and booked it for 12th February for another nail-cutting job. A card was given to me, but with me wearing different clothes, I feared I may forget about the cards and putting the date in my calendar.
I thanked the ladies, paid the £25, and as I was leaving the salon, I realised that this was the first time I’d been in any hairdressers for over fifty years! No need to, with no hair on the head, Hahaha!
I dropped the bag off and sat hoping for the rain to ease off, before the walk back to the flats. Deana appeared, and asked me why I was sat there, was I waiting to see her? Told her I was waiting for the rain to ease off, so I didn’t get soaked again. Julie kindly walked with me through the closed walk-through passage and opened the end door for me into Woodthorpe Court, bless her.
Not only did the walk back (green), compared to the walk there (yellow) take less time and distance, but it saved me from another soaking.
My only aim when I got in, was getting the Chilli-Con-Carne done and scoffing it! Put the rolls in the ready-heated oven, and warmed the saucepan. Ten minutes later, I was serving up the feast!
The meal tasted great! Somehow through my faffing about with the seasonings, it came out better than I ever hoped. I wallowed in eating it, masticating slowly to appreciate the flavour. 9/10 for this one!
As I was doing the pot cleaning, one of the infamous sudden bouts of WTC (weariness, tiredness and complete lack of concentration) dawned on me. That was then of my doing or even thinking about anything else, bar sleep!
Stripped and into the jammie bottoms. Plonked onto the recliner, turned the TV on, fell asleep within minutes (Mind you, I needed it aster last nights pathetic two-hour kip), this time it went betterer, I got three hours unbroken rest, before waking in urgent need of the Porcelain Throne.
00:15hrs: Yesterday’s short-lived, semi-confident, and spirit of a ‘Get-up-and-go’ nature, was replaced this morning, with a, well, how can I explain it? Erm… A sort of acquiescent, compliance, a type of passive acceptance of whatever would be thrown at me today? Certainly not any confidence, rather pliability… I’m sure I know the word I need, but it escapes me. Obviously, the concentration is not too good either.
With a mechanical-like, instinctual nature, I rose from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, caught my balance, had a wee-wee in the overnight bucket, went and washed the hands, and found myself in the kitchen, putting the kettle on, then back to the main room and started the Health Checks.
As I got the thermometer out first, I realised that the few things I had done so far, had all been carried out almost automatically, no thinking about what, how or why I was doing them. I pondered over why this should be. I could not muster the interest, and I soon carried on with the Health Checks.
The SYS was high again, I must tell the Doctor if this continues for a few more days.
I got on with creating the Wednesday Trip out to Nottingham, blog. That took me a good few hours, but I enjoyed making it, with my humorous brand of sarcasm to the fore in the comments. Hahaha! I got it finished and posted off to WordPress, Emailed the link, then started to update the Wednesday Inchcock Diary.
So far into it, and I realised the number of wee-wees I kept stopping to take? They continued for the rest of the day, too! Made a brew of Glengettie, then pressed on and got the Diary all completed. After several more hours, three more mugs of tea and countless wee-wees.
Sent the blog off, emailed the link. And I went on Facebooking catch-up. With all the photos to get into the albums, this also took hours to get done. But I just plodded on with it. I think I was beginning to enjoy it, and a smidge of contentment was creeping into my psyche.
Time to get the Ablutions done. Not so many dropsies today! The shave produced only two tiny nicks on the chin. The showering had a few dropsies and only one bang against the hand-rail. But the highly cushioned, expanse of blubber around the midriff cushioned it well, although a bruise is developing now.
The only real struggle and battle were with the Sock-Glide again. It wasn’t really worth the effort of using it, but it was too cold to go without any socks on, so, needs musted! Argleboggle!
I tried the old Morrisons PPs today. Gawd they are thin! Later I made a funny-touch-up on the photo of the legs, adding a superfluous fig leaf, as Tim Price suggested. Hehehe!
Thinking over the Morrison let-downs and lousy substitutes, made me think about fodder and what to have for dinner later. Far too early to, but, I opted, to have The baked bean and cheese, and a beef pasty, potatoes or chips, garden peas, and a few of the tomatoes I’ve got left. Of course, knowing me, I’ll change my mind.
Got the ablutions done with, dressed and medicated.
The new third-time worn, brown trousers that are grey, supplied by Amazon and the belt broke already! Oy, Oy, Oy! Surely there must be someone else who leads a calamitous, disaster-prone, unlucky, Whoopsiedangleplop- filled life like wot I do? Maybe not. Humph! It’d be nice to converse with a fellow sufferer.
Then I started the handwashing. Not that there was much to do, another woolly hat, and the socks from yesterday.
I made another brew of Glengettie, I seem to be letting the mugs get cold.
The drilling and tapping noises seem to be all around today. I can hear them like yesterday, in the wet room and kitchen. Now from directly above the computer room. I think maybe Herbert was back at making his train models. Of course, it doesn’t bother me at all. Not in the slightest.
Hello, the sun’s trying to come out. I’ll nip and take some photos of it.
I diverted when I got to the unwanted, thick-framed, impossible to get at to be washed, created by an age intolerant, misanthrope, architect, who designed them this way so he could laugh at us old folk as we fall off of step-ladders need to reach to clean the or see out and down to check if the fire brigade, had arrived yet. Hahaha! Anyroad, I spotted that someone was suffering from a White-Van-Fleet attack! Poor devils!
The sun was doing its best to burst forth. A few minutes later, it broke through, with only the odd break when the small clouds uncovered the planet.
I made an order from Iceland. They are delivering in the morning nice and early. I hope not to need another Sainsbury order. I’ll see what slots they have available for later.
Whoops, no slots available. That’s the end of that idea, then. Can’t be helped.
Still no call for the Porcelain Throne today, yet?
Worrying innit? I fear a concrete torpedo is being manufactured in the innards, and it will be reluctant to move on the next visit… Assuming there will be one eventually? Oh, woe is me!
I had a gander at the local YourArea email magazine I’ve signed up for, to see what the latest Coronavirus figures were for Nottingham. It was not encouraging, again after the Anti-Lockdown brigade, gang or bloblet of selfish personages had a march together with no masks on, and spreading the virus all over the place, we have an increase overall for the first increase in months, now, and we are being left in Tier Three restrictions!
Of to the Kitchenette to get the nosh arranged.
I took a shot of the sunshine having a last blast. The clouds were beautiful, close little puffers, and distant streaks.
I got the meal served up. It was not like I’d originally planned it to be. For various reasons, no tomatoes left, but I’ve got some coming from Iceland in the morning, providing they are not missing, or out of stock. I’ve run out as Garden peas as well, but I had some processed peas to use, (regrettably, they were horrible!) The planned parties of one cheese and onion, and a beef one, were delicious. The can of potatoes was passable, cause I added some soy sauce to flavour them up a twinge. Added some sauce to the processed peas as well, but that didn’t come out very well. Overall, a test rating of 7/10.
Got settled in the rickety recliner, in search of sleep. But no! Sweet Morpheus was denied me, by the Thought Storming that had a field day with me. What I didn’t worry about, feared, longed for, and was facilitating or regretting, went on for hours and hours.
00:30hrs: I woke with a start again, and lay trying not to hear the ‘Hum’ outside, or to the new droning sound inside, we think is coming from the machinery on the rooftop in the plant-room. (That’s because it keeps stopping for five minutes or so, then kicks back in) A most annoying noise to wake up to today, two flaming humming-like susurrations, outside and inside at the same time! Globbleaurgh!
I bounded out of the luxury Snuggle-Up, £950, brand new, recliner, and nipped smartly to the £95 overnight-elderly-persons Marks & Spencer’s Chamber Pot, for a wee-wee…
Oh, alright, then… I struggled out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, cracked my right knee on the ottoman, felt back down in the chair and Harold’s Haemorrhoids – swore silently, gritted my teeth and got back up again. Hobbled to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), and had a wee-wee of the PSST (Persistent, Stinging, Sharp) mode.
Seeing the medications that arrived last night, I had a nosey at them.
Being in a more stable frame of mind and more awake than when they were delivered, I think what the young lady who delivered them said, she needed to collect the medications sent earlier without any seals on them. I will ring Obergruppenfurheress and catwalk model, Warden Deana later, to ask her to ring the chemist for me, so I know what to do. I can’t believe that they want the tablets that shot out all over two room back? Then again, Matron did tell me to return them to the pharmacist? I think!
Then I realised that instead of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules I’d asked for, they had delivered Docusate Sodium, in a medicine form. Excellent thinking that was from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, and my Doctor for prescribing medicine. That needs me, to pour out into short plastic three 5ml spoons of the medicine, three times a day! A shame they both forgot about my, Nicolas’s neurotransmitters dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, and Peripheral Pete’s right leg dances! This is not going to work, I’ll have more medicine on the floor, my clothes, and if the involuntary Schuplatter dancing starts while I’m trying to take the medication (six times a day) the bottle is going to get dropped and smashed for sure! I can avoid any problems for a while, cause I still have some of the capsules in the pot to use for a couple or three days – then things should get interesting? Dangerous, mind!
But credit where it is due. The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, are nothing if not consistent in their desire to kill me off, one way or another. At least their man who dispenses the prescriptions is. They delivered the things for me, so they aren’t all bad, bless em!
Fair enough, they didn’t put the seals on of the two trays… nobodies perfect. Nemo Mortaluim Omnibus Horis Sapit!
I took the medications, then got the Health checks done. I started with the blood pressure, the SYS had was not too bad a result.
The temperature was spot on!
I must remember to ring Deana and ask for assistance with the phoning, maybe after I get the ablutions all done.
The rain began to come down as the mist slowly cleared away.
As I got on the computer, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet-room, I trudged. The ailments were being kind with me up to now.
I thought I might have grown hair again on my head, it took so long to get any moment started! The crossword book was utilised. I even considered giving up and trying again later… Ah, painful, very painful, but the evacuation started… It took a few minutes of effort and a few. Oooh, argh’s, but at last, things picked up the pace! Well, it looks like an easy victory in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) for Constipation Konrad today, over Trotsky Terence. I made sure afterwards, that the Dyoctyl® poo-softener was in the afternoon tablet box ready, in fact, the session was so bad, I put two in there.
Cleaned up, and back to the computer, to make a graphic for later use, but I got diverted (I do that a lot yer knows) when I saw the email news come in, and I had a decker at it. I copied this graph of the Nottingham areas affected.
Then it was time for the Ablutioning Session to be done.
I rang Deana; first, she said she’ll be coming to see me later on, after 11:00hrs. She had a meeting to go to first. I thanked her and made a bee-line for the wet-room/
Getting ready to do the teggies, and I noticed that the growths, blotches and even the papules that were on the left arm yesterday, had all but gone now! Amazing!
The teeth cleaning had few electric-like stabs of pain, as I caught the cracked tooth that the dentist told me were nothing to worry, as she rushed me out of her surgery a couple of weeks ago. They hated me (My high EQ could tell), cause I couldn’t get up the two flights of stairs to my regular dentist to be treated, mind you, he ain’t all that keen on me, either. Tsk!) I digress again, sorry!
The shaving, especially considering that I hadn’t shaved yesterday, went blooming great. Only one little nick and three-dropsies! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
The showering had a couple of dodgy moments, but I’ve far worse, no I’m not complaining. They were, decent clout against the grab rail, and I hit the ankle ulcer area on the shower-chair leg.
The drying was had no, I say, No, knock-overs! (A smile developing!) As for the medicationalisationing, only poor Harolds Haemorrhoids ointmentating actually hurt. Although the ankle looked a bit battered? But I had given it a good knock when showering, so, fair do’s. It seemed to have changed colour, and the scratch marks too? No pain or soreness, mind you? All so confusing!
It worries me when things go well, it’s unnatural!
Back to the updating of this blog.
And both door chimes rang out. Oberstgruppenfuhreress and desk-top dancer, highly desirable Warden & ILC Deana appeared in the room.
She soon sorted things out for me. The Chemist said to hand the two trays back undamaged packs back to him on the next delivery. But of course, I’d started one, so only that can one can be returned. He’s not replied to my email anyway.
She patched up the fallen curtains for me in the main room and recommended the Apollo shop in Sherwood to get my curtains from. I need some for the kitchen and front room. I’ll give them a go.
Made my mind up, bacon and beans for my nosh. The milk roll bread with it methinks, but first, I must make up a template for tomorrow. Here I go… Hehehe!
Got the meal cooking things ready to start, and checked the leaflet from Nottingham City Homes. A little confusing.
I’ve got to phone them to book an upgrade in the kitchen and bathroom? I think.
The landline flashed, it was Hristina, the lovely vampire nurse, to tell me she will be calling on Monday twixt 8>10:00hrs, bless her cotton socks. I think they’ve made it earlier this week, with the INR level being so low?
Being so tired, I couldn’t appreciate the meal as I might have, but I still gave it a 7/10 for flavour and taste. The bacon was the Iceland brand ‘Seasonally Seasoned’ streaky bacon. It was almost paper-thin but tasty enough for once. The beans and vegetarian sausages were not bad. The Sainsburys pork & pickle pies were fine, not as tasty as the Iceland ones. The milk roll loaf bread and the lemon yoghourt were gorgeous! I dropped the things in the bowel to soak, had a weak wee-wee.
I was in the arms of sweet Morpheous within minutes of getting down in the recliner. The dreams began, I woke with a start, and well miffed, at not remembering much about the dreams, just a feeling that they were good? Clobblechops! I drifted back into the land of nod, determined to get back to whatever it was I was nocturnally enjoying previously – of course, I couldn’t and failed. I’m pretty good at failing, as well!
01:35hrs: I stirred into life after a rather unsatisfactory two-and-a-half hours sleep. And the first thing I became aware of was that the worldwide ‘Hum’ was a little quieter this morning.
The next thing gleaned was the need for a wee-wee. So the morning performance of getting my obesely, stupendously wobbly stomach burdened body, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, which went fair enough. Catching my balance was a piece of cake, too. Grabbing metal-mickey and over to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), another task that went well!
However, wee-weeing was a difficult task. After a long, long while, the flow started with the odd weakly-sprayed trickle and stayed that way until the bladder had had enough. Unbelievably, the Post Micturition Dribbling, carried on almost as long as the wee-weeing had? Ah, well, a change is as good as a rest! Well, maybe not in this case.
I now became aware of a new to me, noise! A droning hum, but not like the external one. I seemed to be coming from inside the building, close by, but above me. You can’t win here! Well, I can’t!
I went to get the medications taken. Not touching those in the not-sealed pots that I had gathered from the spraying all over the room when I opened then, as Matrom Jackie had told me not to do when she phoned me last night. I opened a pod-pack that had got the seals in place (Two trays had them, the other two had none). Bless Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, launderette, near the Lidl store.
When I did the sphygmomanometerisationing, I was certain that I’d got the wayward medications wrong! The Sys was the highest it’s ever been! A staggering 182! So, this is not good, but it’s a good job that the caring Matron Julie is coming to see me today, I’ll see what she says.
I tried to get my head around which of the medications I’d gotten wrong, easy-enough with the three same shaped and coloured one’s I take in the mornings. It’s not surprising that errors have been made, just look at the three aforementioned tablets! Plus there are still some missing from the spillage and scattering of the medications. I am not wee-weeing much today, and it’s reluctant, this indicates that maybe the Furesomide has been missed? The high blood pressure shows I may have missed a Beta blocker, (Bisoprolol)? Nope, I had to give up, it just got Conrad Confusion in a bigger mess than he was to start with!
I got the Harpin Xian Di Thermometer used. At least the temperature, was okey-dokey. The need of the Porcelain Throne arose, so off I trotted to the wet room.
Well, goods news from this session! Less painful, with minimal bleeding, and all over quickly! Not messy either! The cistern cleared everything in one flush, which considering the size of the torpedo, also amazed me! The first Smug-Mode of the day adopted!
I then took three photographs of the same area, the first one was in Auto Mode on the Nikon Coolpix B700 Bridge Camera. (A bit of bragging there, sorry, but it does sound as if I know what I’m doing. Hehehehe!
The second one down of the three was taken in the Aperture Priority setting.
The last one, I chose Night Landscape. The nearest of them to what the viewer showed, was the Auto Mode one.
No, hang on, I got that wrong, sorry, the middle one was in Night landscape mode… Oh, dear, my battle of resisting Conrad Confusion is being lost!
I got on with updating the Monday blog. With the unreadable scrawl on the notepad, through the late additions after I’d got my head-down, the photos and the attention pf Conrad Confusion, it took me far too long, but I managed to get it done without too many mistakes being made. Ahem!
I got the email link sent. Went on Facebooking catch-up. Visited the WordPress link, some great photos on there today.
Closed the computer to let it cool-off, and got the Ablutions tended to. I had to get the nearly, in case Matron Julie came early. (But she didn’t, she came very late! No point in moaning, she probably had to fit me in with the regular people she has to visit). Not that this will help in Sweet Morpheus seeking.
The stand-up ablutions went fairly well. About 15 dropsies in total. Only two shaving nicks.
A couple of knocking things of knocking-things over.
So not so bad really. The pins and plates didn’t look too bad at all. The ulcer was getting less flared, too.
Only Cartilage Cathy’s patellas looked, well, felt, worse than usual.
All done, medicated and deodorised my magnificent, manly, taut, desirable to women, masculine, body. (Alright, alright, we can all get carried away at times, yer know! Hahaha!)
I did the handwashing in the bowl. Got it done, wrung and hung, to dry, above the kitchen sink.
Carried on with updating this blog, and the time flew by, without any signs of Matron Julie arriving. MY EQ tells she is going to come late after my head-down time. I just seem to be incapable of having any luck lately. I half expect her not to come today, Oh, dear, never mind.
I got the dinner prepping done, to the accompaniment of Herberts, clunking and tap-tapping.
I put the left-over peas from yesterday, and cane of Chilli-Con-Carne in the larges saucepan. And made some gravy to go in the mix, too. Stirred it and tried a spoonful. After which, I bravely added some Chilli powder and Squid vinegar to it. Gave it another good stirring, tried a spoon of some more, it tasted okay to me.
But the gamble was in my having BBQ rice with it. I should wait until I get the Chilli mix boiling and add the rice to it then – but of course, I did all this without thinking about the nurse coming. So, I had to turn the heat off, or it will be ruined if Jackie comes too late in the day or even night. Now I was getting depressed, and I already getting tired through sleep deprivation and getting annoyed with myself. Pissed-off a bit, as well!
I had a look at the email Nottingham YourArea magazine. Amidst the knifings, burglaries, unlicensed and uninsured drivers, I found the latest Coronavirus figures chart.
On my usual, well, it used to be normal head-down time, the door chimes sounded, and Matron Julie entered the flat. A lovely feeling came over me!
She wanted to get the tablet cock-up details first, and I showed her the pill-pots and photographs I’d taken. She asked some questions, and I answered them all, in her usual professional manner. And she got on the phone to talk to the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, launderette, near the Lidl store. She moved away to talk to whoever answered the phone in private, not that I could hear her anyway.
She told me to put all the tablets retrieved from the sprinkling, on the floor in a bag, and hand them back to the chemist, who she’s asked to replace the two unsealed trays for me ♥ Kind of her.
She asked some general and ailments health questions. When she asked what my BP was and I told her that this morning it was 182/81-P76, her eyes (I couldn’t see her face due to the black mask, Hehehe!) looked at me dubiously, telling that is way too high! I showed her the photo. I retook the reading as told to, and it had gone down to 159/86-P79. Julie seemed okay with this reading.
We spoke about the problems, (I was getting a bit weary, and not everything of this chinwag sank in), and Julie departed, with my thanks.
I got the nosh rewarming, and served up. It looked good to me in the dish, and I settled to eat the meal while watching the TV. Oh, dearie me! It was horrible!
A Flavour Rating of 2/10, no, 1½/10! Eurgh! I’m never having rice with my chilli again! Spit!
A few spoonfuls after starting, I was getting up to throw away the meal. I packed it the disposal bags, but them in a carrier bag, and those into a black rubbish bag and sealed them up. So they would not cause a pong in the flats Or worse, they might have split open, effect and infect residents, and started a new Pandemic, the Woodthorpe-Court-Virus! Hehehe!
I had a bag of Frazzles (well three actually), and nibbled some nuts, turned the TV off, and lay there, waiting to be enfolded in the grasp of sweet Morpheus! Who, soon took over, drifting off into a deep but dream-filled slumber was attained! (vague memories of falling down holes in the ground?), but it was not to last for long, I sprang awake three hours later, the expergefactor, unknown! Blurblecrups!
23:15hrs: I woke in a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. (Nothing unusual in that, although the early hour was a bind!) I was weary through lack of sleep, with drooping eyelids, and struggling to engage my thoughts. Hello, I’m sneezing away now!
Not that the lack of sleep bothers someone like me. A heroical, strong, young, fit, healthy, virile, confident, handsome, stouthearted, very-much loved and admired, intrepidly courageous, health enthusiast, fitness fanatic, well-educated, keen outdoor adventuring enthusiast… Well, I may have just over-hyperbolised things there, a smidge)
As the grey-cells regained a weak form of logicality; I dragged my bouncy-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. And I rose up on my painful overgrown toenailed feet. I caught my balance, as per the After-Stroke Teams instructions. But had to skip the last bit, as the need for the Throne was growing more urgent by the second.
This session gave me a pleasant surprise! I got down on the plastic lid, and straight away the evacuation flowed. It was a long one, but that didn’t matter – It was totally pain-free! No bleeding either! Messy, though, very! Then having to clean me and the WC furniture, which took me ages, took the edge off of the, well, almost pleasure of super-easy pooing! Not that I was excited, for every Throne visit lately is totally different, which the Gastrointestinal Doctor Gupta had told me may happen for a few months. I just hadn’t expected the differentiations to be so acute on each visit. After the passing, BPB was soon starting to ache much worse?
I sorted out the Health Checks. Heck of a shock when the sphygmomanometer gave out the SYS reading of 171. Blimusigational! Yesterdays was only 148? I wonder why this happened? Ah, well, must press on, so I got the new thermometer out.
A reasonable reading of 68.8°c. Well, at least that was fair enough.
I went to get the medications out – and shame and disgust at myself again! I’d not taken last nights doses, yet again!
So, I took them then. Now I must remember to take the morning ones in a few hours.
It’s all very most confusing life is, when you’re nearing the end of it, and the old previously so reliable memory becomes unpredictable and a hit-and-miss affair. Hogglebogwash!
I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and I got side-tracked. (Hard to believe, me getting divagated, but, there you are... Hehe!) I took off the grey zip-up jumper I had on and set to washing it. Why I did this is still unknown to me, it was at the time I did it!
When the handwashing was finally, done- wrung and hung above the sink, to drip away drying, I had to clean up the mess I’d made doing the hand laundering. The floor had to be dried of sudsy water, the dropped and knocked-over items retrieved from where they had landed, and or rolled to, and the sink and counters washed.
I got back to making a brew of tea again, got the kettle reboiling, and noticed the small but beautiful quarter-moon was out in the now morning sky. I got the Nikon camera and took this photograph in Night Landscape mode.
Got the computer booted up, and uploaded this morning’s pictures. (Still doing some sneezing here). Then started to update the Sunday diary.
But this did not last for long. BPB started to get crescively more painful. So I hobbled to the wet room, and applied as best I might, a dollop of Phorpain gel to the affected areas, and rubbed it in as well as I could. It made no difference, though. Klunglefrazzles!
I’m sorry I bothered now, cause coming out of the wet-room, I hit my right shoulder on the edge of the doorframe, and now SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) has joined DD and BPB harassing me! Criggleblogglesworthisms! How much more of this can one man take!
Of course, I’m not really bothered, whatsoever.
I got the blog updating finished. Posted it off. Pinterested a few snaps. Went on Facebooking, then sent the link off via Email. I went on CorelDraw again, to try and get some page top graphics done for the TFZer pictures.
After about two or three days, I’d got two graphics done… Well, it felt that long to me! Nicodemus has joined at ailment army now. However, a Silver-Lining search result: Duodenmal Donald departed the battlefield, for some R & R? Hahaha! The main offender now is Anne Gyna.
Then, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne for the second time. Messy in the extreme, a tad more painful, but over so quickly, and no bleeding. Far less volume this time I thought, not that I weighed it or anything. Cackle! Titter! Hehe! Cleared the evacuated product with one flush, as well! Yeehaa!
I decided to see what slots J Sainsbury had available. I wasn’t too keen on using them after the last cock-up with substitutes and damaged goods, but I dare not use Morrisons to get my Chilli-Con-Carne, after they substituted 2 cans of their cheap (69p) CCC, with their best ones, at £2.58! And the utterly crap MCains peppered chips as a substitute for the Morrisons Sweet Potato battered fritters. Apart from there were no sweet potatoes or batter, the sub was okay. Swine!
Swine again now! So, I made up an order with Sainsbury’s, for Sunday 29th November, twixt 0800>09:00hrs. I made a point of working out how to opt for ‘no substitutes’, but I got it wrong, and could not reaccess the list! As it happened, I’d missed off the BBQ super-noodles from the order, so I went in to edit it again, add the pots to it. And got the no substitutions and added the CCC, and bread to that list.
I also found that I have a refund coupon, well, two of them, so clicked on the activate buttons. Then found an option that if I spent £60, I could get £9 off of the order? So I clicked that, but I had to, unfortunately having to increase the ordered items to reach the total. As I updated, I got a long-winded message telling that because I had chosen so many items with the No-Substitute on them, if the total is not reached, I’d forfeit the £9 off-offer. See their substitution rulings! Cobblers!
I knew that Hristina was calling later today, so got the ablutions sorted out next.
And what a feast of flipping, fiascos, faux pas, foul-ups, fluffs, follies, fatuous-farcicalisations this session was!
I got in the wet-room and moving the shower chair, I let it slip from my grasp. Or rather Nicodemus did. (You can see the bruise in the photos later!
The gums bled when I was doing the teeth!
A few nicks when shaving (5).
A stubbed toe when moving the sock glide out of the way to prepare the shower.
I bent down to pick up the dropped shower gel bottle and hit my head on the grab bar!
This started BPB off again!
As I was drying off, I put on the new glasses, and the lens fell out of the frame! Grrr!
Moving the chair back under the shower, I gave myself another toe-stubbing (At least this one was not too bad).
The medicationing started poor little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
Finally, on leaving the room, I was intent on not hitting the door frame again this time, and I didn’t. But as I turned to collect the forgotten to take with me wristlet alarm, I knocked most of the stuff off of floor cabinet when I had a balance loss moment!
Not one of my bestest ablution sessions! I was so irate with myself.
With all the clearing up, extra medicalisationing, I think that this session took me about an hour and a half! I don’t think I’m one of the luckiest tenant’s in here, am I?
But then again, I already knew that.
At least apart from the bruised foot, bloodied lesion, shaving cuts, bashed head, stubbed toes, and Back-Pain-Benda back to her painful best, I feel I have nothing to complain about really. Much!
At least I had a visit for Hristina, my precious Vampire Nurse to come. (An inner smile glowed!)
After I’d calmed down, and was sorting out some waste bags, the front door chimes chimed out. It was Josie returning the dinner things. She mentioned how she’s enjoyed it so much. Which was good, and semi-cheered me up a soupçon.
I got back on the computer, and fear that I’d left something undone, not done, in the wet-room, forced me to get back there and have a check, that all was okay. I’d left the clothes I’d used in the ablutions and medical tendings, and washed on the support bracket.
The intercom flashed. It was Hristina, my beloved Vampire phlebotomy nurse who’d arrived. She rang the intercom at 11:45hrs.
By EQ recognised that she looked full of angst and tensed up, bless her. And no wonder, as she said while whipping out my blood: Only one lift working in the block, hard to find a parking space, extra clients added to her list, stressed the Angel.
Although she gave no obvious signs and tried to speak in her usual comforting way, the speed of her words revealed the pressure she was under. I don’t think she was with me for more than five minutes. Beautiful, enjoyable minutes, though. ♥
After she had gone, and I lowered my sprits and sulked a little, and did some updating on this diary.
I turned of the computer, feeling a tad down and weary now. I got the waste bags, a lot of them had built up. This is because we have to use tiny bags now since the upgrade, so as not to block the chute, as has often been the case in the past, and cost a fortune to sort out.
I got them on the box and not the three-wheeled walker, and with some difficulty, got the trolley out through the door. (For the first time in a few days, I twisted my back getting the guide over the raised doorstop, and BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) gave me an electric-like shock, and hurt on of a level 7/10 pain-wise, and has stayed with me all night and into the morning!)
Struggling even more to open the door to the lift lobby (BPB), as I got halfway through the door, there were working signs and equipment all over the place, and at the end of the lobby, three workers, who turned to look at me – offered me a look of contempt, a sneer, and a scowl. No way though – I’m sure I hadn’t been informed of these workings? But who knows, with my memory!
So, I was going nowhere. I made my way with difficulty back into the flat’s lobby and returned to flat. Storing the trolley back in its corner in the hallway, obviously with the full of waste bags box still on top of it. And BPB really giving me some stick now!
I took the evening medications, with an extra Codeine 60g, and as best I could, offered Back-Pain-Brenda some PHorgpain Gel where I could reach to. Hoping, foolishly perhaps, that it might calm her down a bit. I was now in a right picklement, BPB and Anne Gyna bother having sadistic fun with me. Argh!
I got the meal prepped. A different type tonight, the Beef Curry, had a ring-pull opener on it, so I tried it. Got some potato letters in the oven cooking. Then considered the seasoning, that might be required for the curry. First I got it in the saucepan and tried a spoonful as it slowly heated up. I could not detect any curry. I decided on some balsamic vinegar and made-up some gravy with vegetable stock and added it to the mix. Put some Soy sauce into the mix. Fingers crossed. Not that I was too bothered, with BPB and AG for both still nagging away at me.
Nosh was served up, and I wanted to show how I felt and decided I’d put my views in potato-letters on top of the fodder. Just my luck, all those letters I cooked, and no letter T! Hahaha! Not to be beaten, I nibbled an H and used that to give my message to the world via the internet and this photo. Daft, I know, but I was in so much pain and fed-up with it.
I got the saucepan and tray washed, and took the meal though to the recliner, and eventually got my poor old back settled in a position that was not too uncomfortable. Of course, by then the food was not very hot! Globdanglesods!
I wasn’t going to go through the agony of getting up to reheat it, so I tucked into the bowl of beef curry. Notwithstanding, nevertheless, and however, the taste was not too bad at all. Had the meal been warmer, it may have got a better Flavour Rating than the 6.5/10 I gave it. The other can of beef curry in the cupboard will be used later, and not rust away or be given away.
It took a long time eating though. The moment I moved to get up and do the washing of the plate bowl and cutlery, BPB started again. Oy, Oy, Oy! Did I feel it, too!
Eventually, I got washed, stripped down, and back in the c1968 recliner again. Gawd know how long it took me to find a position that BPB would tolerate a little better – I expected the worst… needing a wee-wee, sneezing, or wanting the Porcelain Throne and having to move again. But nae bother!
Not that man like me was concerned over a little pain and agony, of course. Ahem! The prayer and confession I offered up, brought no reply or relief.
Surprisingly, I nodded off quickly. Waking up just before midnight, still in pain. I removed the remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, and crumbs from my folds in my belly fat…
00:40hrs: It all happened in a sort of slow-motion, to start with. I semi-woke up and lay there pondering the upcoming opportunities this dedicated ‘Toilet Day’, of 12th November, had to offer.
What Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Disasters, Failures, Stalemates, Mental-implosions, Frustrations, Defeats, Katzenjammers, Nonachievements, Babalaases, Pitfalls, Disappointments, Mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me; that might present themselves this Thursday.
Oddly enough, as I was thinking of this ‘Dedicated Toilet Day’, as I was removing my potbellied, portly, wobbling, paunched-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, a borborygmic mini-explosion from the innards, signalled the expergefactorial need for the Porcelain Throne. I thought it would be a good idea, if I didn’t delay, and got to the Porcelain Throne with all haste! So, I did!
Not only did I get to the wet room without any bother, (Well, there was a short loss of balance, but that was my own fault for not catching it as I grabbed Metal Micky), and that only lasted a few seconds without any detrimental damage or injury.
What followed was most encouraging. This session was the even less painful, no enteralgia, no bleeding!
And comfortably evacuated; This is first-time that this has happened in many a month! Yee-Haa! But I knew this could not last for long. But I enjoyed it while it lasted.
Mind you, the poo colour was a sort of green. Still, it made a change: super-easy passage, and a pretty new colour for me to photograph for the gastroenterologist’s Neurogenic bladder and bowel management record.
I was tickled-pink, started singing to myself! (The Young Ones – Cliff Richard) As I was getting up to sort the cleaning up, I spotted the gunk-cleaner on the shower floor, that I’d left to soak in last night – and had forgotten all about doing! Oh, dear!
I went out to the hallway and turned on the shower-power at the box. Back in and as carefully as I could, got the shower on and I sprayed the cleaner away…
But it looked far worse than it did before my orgulous bright-spark of an idea was used.
Humph and Knackwrangles!
And then, of course, to completely demolish the memory of the successful Throne session and semi-contentment of the marvellous evacuation; The moment I moved the showerhead into the right hand so I could turn off the water, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed, and the showerhead flailed all over the place. This resulted in my attempt to retrieve the moving water-jetting, hose-pipe like head, I had a tumble to the floor and got an early morning closed up shower, and soaked the jammy bottoms and me, and I got a few knocks new and bangs, in the process! Tsk!
The struggle to get back up, the cleaning and sorting out, were done in a silent, stewing mood, ruminating and chewing the cud; determined not to get in a sulky frame of mind at the return of my devil’s own luck, and eventually affirmed it as just a tribulation. I was pleased with myself then, at how I’d talked myself into just accepting things, knowing these incidents will only get worse as the neurotransmitters slowly die anyway. Confusingly, sometimes it’s like this, others, I get all het-up, cursing my fate, and start Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna off, but not on this occasion? I sort of habituated, adapted to the situation. I’ve no idea why this is so, but I’m pretty content and stilled about things now.
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and realised than yet again, I’d not taken the evening medications! What an Ahntoisht, Shilmazel! So I took the evenings doses, and hope that I remember in size hours or so, to take the morning ones. Putz!
I carried out the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing first. But I didn’t fret over this reading, no doubt the falling over altercation had effected the reading, I’m sure.
The new thermometer did not work first try. Do I turned it off and back on again, and got this disappointingly low reading, again though, this is probably due to the fracas in the wet-room?
I got on the computer and started to update the Wednesday blog. Which was done in a reasonable time for once, the ailments seem to be feeling sorry for my tumble, and are being kind to me perhaps? (I might be losing it again here!)
I poddled to the wet-room, for another wee-wee, and when I got back, I noticed the veins in the left arm were almost luminescent? And, odd;y they looked a little greener than usual? When I took this photo, I used the flash, and it came out looking more strange than it really looked, but I WordPressed it anyway, cause it looked so odd. A camera glitch? Anyway, it made me think of Soylent Green. Hahaha!
Of course, it might just be one of the resident Woodthorpe Court mysterious Eidolons, Goblins, or Aliens, that are checking out my innards. The Chilli-Meatballs last night might have confused them? Chortle! Cackle! Guffaw!
I got the updating finished and sent off. Then emailed the link.
Pinterested some snaps, the got the ablutions sorted out. Well, I started to anyway. But I remembered the morning dosages needed to be taken, so returned and tool them, then back to the wet-room.
I noticed as I stripped off (a horrible, harrowing thought for you, I’m sorry. Hehe!), that I must have picked up in the tumble. Pretty scratch, though! Hahaha!
The teeth cleaning went fine.
The shaving surprisingly, only brought about two tiny weeny nicks, not worthy of mention really, but it’s too late now, I have written it. Simper!
I found one of the miniature wounds from the Accifauxpas on the right-hand knuckle. I seem to have picked up some nicks and bruises, ain’t I? However, the showering, which was something I was a smidge concerned about with the balance not yet back to normal, went great! No Dizzy Dennis’s, there was not a single clout or banging into anything, I was well pleased again.
The medicating was as smooth as could be expected! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inchies fungal lesion! The dressing was only bothered temporarily by a dodgy-wobble getting the trousers on, but I remained on my feet, Oh. Yes! This is a better day, up to now! Perhaps, my prayer and a few words to Mr G the other day had got through? Or, not! Snortle!
I was in good form after the ablutions, and set about moving the hand-washed togs about, to nearer the heater, now they had stopped dripping.
That reminds me of when I was a whipper-snapper! Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine; after I’d set and laid the fire, and done my paper rounds, I had to go to Sanderson’s Tripe & Cow Heel shop, on Arkwright Street, and wait (sometimes for hours), to claim the ham bone, once enough had been sliced and sold, 3d (Threepence it was) And heaven help me if I couldn’t get it! Dad would not be happy with me at all!
This look like the original shop, I could find a photo of when they were open. Gawd the place smelt gorgeous! Once a fortnight I had to some tripe as well. Every week, the jellied pork dripping they sold, 9p a pound (weight) was bought as well. Oh, the memories are flooding back now! Of course, when Dad was working on a Saturday, meant I had a few hours of waiting for him to arrive home. Which, in the rare event that one of the three items was unavailable; meant I had to wait for the clips around the earhole longer.
Happy days, rough, hard work. Mater kept disappearing to avoid the police, so muggins had set the fire every morning! Do the paper rounds so kindly got for me by Dad, the cooking and cleaning too. But I did feel needed, wanted, and the odd belting!
But I was content, I knew no other life! There were plenty of lads worse off than I was… I’m waffling again, Sorry about that. It’s a bad habit of mine, wandering off, on some unrelated topic. Still, I do enjoy getting these memory-prompting meanderings.
I got the black bags gathered and onto the three-wheeler-guide trolley, and had a job to do it, but got it out of the door, along, the lift lobby, and into the waste room, and deposited all the small bags down the chute.
It was deathly quiet, and no signs of any tellurians. Even the ‘Hum’ was quieter today.
Even Herbert has only been heard on two occasions up until now. I’m beginning to worry about this. He’s not one for persiflage, more your sort of taciturn, reserved, reticent, antisocial type.
The walk back to the flat along the newly, highly-attractive, ornamentally decorated and floored lift lobby.
It felt so. Haha!
Getting into the three flat’s lobby was easy enough this time, and at that moment, I was feeling better than I have for a few days, getting tired, but that’s to be expected.
But, when it came to getting into the front door, that’s the maroon one, that the workers laying the floor for us all, decorated with some gunk for me, and left it there, and I have no intention of cleaning up – Swine!, I felt the weariness take a strong grip on me, and the missing so far today, Dizzy Dennis kicked into gear.
But I was not mentally tired, only bodily. Does that make sense? I went out on the balcony to take a couple of photos of the busy scene down below on Chestnut Walk.
Blimey, we had a traffic jam! Hahaha!
I spotted some crows in the distance and snapped them, but it was not a good shot. Shame. I wanted to post them to the TFZ site, Lona might have appreciated them.
Doing some updating on this blog, and I thought I heard a clunk, it may be the belated INR WArfarin results and new dosages. It was, and the dosages had changed. Meaning, because no one from the Clinic, Anticoagulation or Deep Vein Thrombosis had informed me from the Monday test, I have been taking too few Warfarins tablets since then. This Coronvirus is most likely killing a few people without the virus!
The landline chirped and flashed. It was some woman on a recorded message again, telling e they had taken £75 something from my account for ‘Prime’, if I want to cancel this press One, so I did. Waffling on a woman with either a Chinese or Indian/Pakistani accent – I couldn’t tell if it was recorded or real voice, she was going that fat, and without a cat in ells chance of understanding anything she was saying. I rang off.
Dizzy was joined by Anne Gyna, and I gave up on the computer and got the nosh prepped.
I had a good sniff at the out of date potato cakes, and luckily, they passed the sniffing nasal-assessment, so went in the oven, and were added to the tray.
The Chilli-Con-Carne, with the added tomatoes, mild chilli seasoning, Squid vinegar, garden peas and gravy, tasted jolly good!
There was so much of it though, you can see here that I couldn’t eat it all. Titter! Seriously, it was a worthy 9.3/10 for a Flavour rating!
I was doing the washing up when Dizzy Dennis and BLB (Balance-Loss-Brian) allied to attack me. From here onwards, memory, of the night was enveloped it a vague mistiness.
When I woke up later – there was no scribbling on the notepad. I had a criminally, painful backache, and the shoulder was so painful. Signs of an Accifauxpa? But no memory. I’d not taken the evening medications, and was wearing the reading glasses?
Another mystery of life in Woodthorpe Court. Hey-Ho!
01:00hrs: What an awakening that was! I’d just woke, and found myself hanging half-in, half-out of the c1968, rickety recliner, and considering various questions as I posed them to myself? Whether to bother with life or not, if I do, what’s waiting for me? Depression? Accifaupas? Whoopsiedangleplops? I didn’t get any further, cause… There was such a loud sort of clunk come thud, it seemed like an eagle, pterodactyl, or something had flown into the flat wall?
I forced my enormously overweight body from the seat, caught my balance, grabbed metal mickey, and made my way into the balcony to have a look around to identify whatever had clouted the wall. I had to divert to make use of the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) Surprisingly, of the SFS (Steady-Flowing-Stream) variety.
I got into the balcony, but despite all of my honed Sherlock Holmesian skills, could see nothing that might have caused the thud? This will have to remain another mystery of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me! Hehehe!
I got the health checks sorted out. The temperature using the new thermometer, but on Body setting, as opposed to Surface, was much nearer the mark.
The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer still gave a high SYS reading of 168, but it was down from yesterday’s. I think I have Jenny to thank for that, in sorting and actioning a taxi to fetch the Dioctyl® capsules for me from the chemist. Also sorting out the Furesomide tablets, that I discovered are taken for multiple ailments. The water release I knew of. But didn’t think they were for High Blood Pressure too! Deep vein thrombosis. pulmonary oedema, or fluid buildup inside your lungs. (I’ve got em all – I am greedy!) You live and learn! ♥ I’m back on them again now. I took a colourful shot of the morning view.
I got the medications taken, and worked out a plan of how I can avoid missing off taking the Furosemide, and Warfarin. I’m going to keep them along with the Enoxaparin hypodermics and Macrogol. On a tray on the clothes airer! Then when I get up, I’ll see them when I go for the morning wee-wee. At least I hope I will! Cunning, eh?
I made a brew and then had a reread of the NHS Government’s six-page of A4 instructions, again. I’m afraid the concentration was not back to normal yet, after yesterdays nauseating, vexing mental-struggles over the problems getting the medications. (Thankfully, Jenny got it sorted for me)
After many hours of faffing about, going from one thing to another on the computer, and forgetting where I was, and even why I was doing something, I got the template finished for today’s blog, and the photos uploaded.
Then I got started with finishing the Part-one Wednesday post. Next started the second-part of the Wednesday blog. That took me many hours, and much anguish, as well. Still, gorrit down eventually.
The time had flown, and with the Iceland delivery due to arrive twixt 08:00 > 09:00hrs, I had to get the ablutions done in time. So, off to the wet room and a stand-up ablutioning session. Too early to use the shower yet.
Ablutioning Report: Crap! Dropsies! A tumble. Throne needed, not as bad as yesterday, but not much in it. It was bleeding far less. I’m not feeling so good at the moment.
The Iceland delivery man arrived. He threw the bags part of the way into the hallway for me.
I got them moved into the kitchen, a couple of bags at a time. I was beginning to struggle a bit again, Dizzy Dennis and a few Balance-Loss-Barry’s. Not good, but I half expected it after yesterdays rum do.
I had to nip to the wet room, and I did an excellent job of hitting my right knee on the edge of the door going in. Which made a nice change for me, cause it’s usually leaving the wet room when I clout myself. Haha!
It seemed for all those bags; this was only a small order? Hey-Ho!
I got the things put away. Then took some thank you treats, down to Jenny, Doris and Frank, for her caring help yesterday. ♥ I’ll get told-off later I’ve no doubt. Hahaha!
I returned to the apartment and made up a Morrison order for next week, while I can get a slot. All done and confirmed for Tuesday twixt 13:00 > 14:00 hrs. I added it to the Gooogle calendar.
Carried on with updating this blog, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were bothersome. So much so, that I gave up, and sorted some meal prepping.
A can of Morrison Savers Chilli-con-Carne, and added some gravy and a tin of chopped tomatoes to it, then some of the Squid sauce/vinegar, and a drop of light soy sauce. Gave it an eager stirring.
The landline burst forth, it was Jenny, on a mission to tell me off for giving her the treats. At least they were used, Doris mostly, she loves her plonk, as is very welcome to enjoy it. Jen and I had a natter, but I was missing some bits of it afterwards. I fear that the fuzziness is returning.
My best job I think would be to get the nosh, and settle to eat, then some rest and hopefully kip. I’d set the timer to remind me to put the part-baked rolls in the fridge… fridge? I mean oven and got it warming up.
I reckon there’s summat else wrong, unknown to me. I’m buggered again, all in? Ah, well, I just hoped that whatever clears soon. It might just be old age, though… I’m not too keen on that stopping. Har-har-har!
Hello, I heard a clunk followed by a knock (on the door if I’m not mistaken). It was another letter, come from Nottingham City Homes. It explained the difficulties they were having, and measures taken during this new lockdown. More bumpf to get confused with, but it was a to the point message and appreciated from this old geezer.
Guilt twinged a little when I noticed the small rubbish bags I’d made up yesterday, and left in the kitchen.
I got the part-baked rolls in the oven, set the timer, stirred the Chilli-Con-Carne, and hastened to pile the waste bags into the box, got it on the three-wheeled trolley guide walker.
I got the trolley out through the door (collecting another bruise on the right arm in doing so), and off to the waste-chute, deposited them down the chute, and returned to the flat, in record time. Collecting a bruise on the right elbow as I struggled back into the apartment. Still, it helped focus the mind a bit. Hehehe!
I’d not put the oven on high enough heat. So turned off the timer, and took this photo from the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window and then got the Chill into the serving bowl, and the saucepan rinsed and into the sink to soak.
Added the cobs from the oven. The burn I got on the right knuckle, was of no concern, for once Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the right time, I felt no pain at all!
I’d love to write a story about Peripheral Neuropathy and its sometimes amazing quirks.
Settled down to eat the meal, noticing that my adding the canned chopped tomatoes instead of beans, gave it a different flavour, but just as palatable. It was nice. I gave this one a Taste-Rating of 7.5/10. I have to say, the Morrisons tinned new potatoes, were a great disappointment. I’ll go back to the cheaper variety on my next order, or use fresh ones.
I took the evening medications, applied the Phorpain gel, and had a wee-wee, checking the chart.
Pleased to see that I’m on level 4.
Lighter than of late,
Such is my fate,
It’s looking good, mate!
But, wait…
I waffle again, I am in a state!
I’ll have a Marmite sarnie, to compensate,
For my loss of sanity… Oh, I’ve just dropped my plate!
01:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I wrenched my wonderfully-fit, firm, fat-free, furuncleless, amazingly muscled, massively-genitally-gifted body from the brand new, recliner, and singing-out-loud, ♫ Oh what a beautiful morning ♫, Gordon MacRae, style, as I skipped jollily to the wet room, without walking into anything, a dizzy spell, or any leg dancing! Ahem!
I thought I’d start today’s I.T. with a whopping great long series of terminological inexactitudes, cause I was in a decent frame of mind for a change. Knowing that after all the hassle, help from Matron Jackie, and panicking yesterday, I knew I’d got some Bisopropol (Beta-Blocker) tablets to take this morning. So I felt the urge to share my temporary satisfaction/sanity mode, with you, to raise a laugh. Hahaha!
I exited the wet-room, uninjured, and poddled to the kitchenette. Got the kettle filled, and started the Health Checks. First the temperature, and look at it! Much higher, and I think within range too! Swank-Mode-Adopted!
The old Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer gave forth more heartening figures. The SYS was down to 163. I increased my Smug-Mode to DefCon-3! Hahaha!
Then went to make a brew. Unaccountably, I decided to have a mug of the healthier, well, better for bladder and diabetes, so they tell me. Decaffeinated Morrison’s tea. But it was a disaster. Weak, insipid rubbish! I might as well have had just a drink of warm, water, it was terrible!
I went back to the kitchen and made a brew of the Yorkshire brand Decaffeinated slop; I mean tea. (Although maybe not!) It looked a lot stronger and tastier…
Nae, that’s a fib, that tea was horrible too! But was only just, barely passable… Eurgh! Still, I drank some of it, to take the medications with. The new trial Cephalexin, anti-bacterial infection capsule, instead of the Amoxicillin was taken for the first time with the regular medications. Phorpain gel applied to the knees, to counter Arthur Itis and PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), Sounds all knowledgable, don’t it, Hahaha! I’ll have a go at the other areas when I get the ablutions done.
I had two tries at getting a decent shot of the view, as the fog came down outside. The first one was in the ‘Night Landscape’ setting: the second in Aperture Priority. Neither looked anything like what my eyes were seeing. Tsk!
It was a long slog, but getting the updating done, with the occasional veering off-track and doing some graphics on CorelDraw for templates, took me many an hour.
I had a break and made a proper good mug of proper Glengettie tea. Aye, by Jiminnee, that was more like it! Then got the Saturday, (no you fool!) Friday post sent off. Emailed the link off, and Pinterested some snaps. Went on Facebooking, then the WordPress Reader. The fog is deepening a tad.
Reluctantly I made an order for Sainsbury delivery. Unfortunate that, because after the last order, with its stupid substitutes, overcharging, and damaged good, I thought I’d never use them again. But I cannot get any pickled eggs (Apart from Amazon, but they charge even more than Sainsbury’s, over a quid more than JS do, for jars of just five eggs. Mind you, if I buy a jar of approx., guessing by the photo, they are sold by weight (2.25kg), about 25 eggs, was only £25!!! No point though, it would not fit in the fridge. The first date available for me was Saturday next, 14th November, at 13>1400hrs. Not worried about it though, I’ve got a Morrison one coming for next Tuesday, I’ll not starve (He says hopefully, Hehehe!)
Aha, the fog is turning into a mist now.
I continued working on the blogging of today’s diary. Managed to get one graphic done in advance, on CorelDraw. Pathetic, but better than none!
The mist is lingering somewhat this morning. And I am wee-weeing well, but only little teeny-weening jobs. Haha!
Feeling shackered now, time for me to get the nosh prepared. Got the Princes canned Chilli-Con-Carne on the go, sliced some tomatoes to go in. I bravely added some gravy to the mix, with Chilli seasoning in it. Only a little mind.
As I was turning of Computer Cameron, I came across the latest Coronvirus figures for Nottingham.
They are not publishing them so clearly or often nowadays – this is an opportunity for the Conspiracy Theorists to use, surely?
I’d taken the bread thins out of the freezer earlier, and they were ready to be used with rather hotter than a planned bowl of Chilli dinner. A pot of lemon mousse and aa Cox’s Pippin apple added to the tray, and I got settled o watch a ‘New Tricks’ DVD while eating the fodder on my knee. Luxury!
On the first forkful of Chilli, I ate – I thought; “Hello, you’ve made this too hot mate!”. But oddly as I carried on, it seemed to be highly acceptable, and I ended up loving it. I ate all of the bread thins as well, a lot of extra gravy to mop-up, Hahaha!
A decent flavour-rating of 7/10 was granted (The bread thins had thawed out with hard edges, Tsk!) Ah, well! Just a shame that this Princes Chilli-Con-Carne from Iceland costs twice the price of Sainsbury’s Hubbard’s or Morrison’s own label!
: Did the pots, and I made a check on my stocks of canned CCC (Chilli-Con-Carne). I could only find three cans! This will have to be investigated in the morning. Panic-Mode-Adopted!
00:20hrs: I woke, wanting the standard, as is to be expected nowadays, wee-wee. Extracting my scarily-flobby, Brobdingnagian-sized, stomached-body from the warmth of the second-hand, pre-owned, £300, c1968, recliner, was a little more difficult this morning. I had a visit from Arthur Itis and PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain) at the same time. Which caused some difficulty in gaining my balance, not to mention the agony… oh, I did mention it! Hehehe!
Once I started hobbling to the wet room, things eased off a smidge, although I did clout my elbow against the door, it was only a trivial, half-hearted affair. Nae bothers, no bruises, no bleeding at all. Nothing, to a brave-hero type, and stalwart like wot I am. Ahem!
When I’d finished the surprisingly-spirited wee-wee, I washed and returned to the recliner, to check for any signs of nocturnal nibblings that needed cleaning up, and or pens, pencils, spoons, spectacles, hearing aids, batteries or tablets that had been dropped. (It does happen regularly!)
As I walked to look between the chairs for escaped objects… ARGH!
I trod (bare-footed of course, it had to be, didn’t it) on what belt like t tin-tack or ball-bearing! By Gawd, it made me smart, wince and mutter an oath silently! See the p[itcure of the offending item on the right? I’ll tell you the story: Weeks ago, no, months ago now, I managed to sit watching the TV, and to pod some fresh peas into the saucepan. (I did report this on the Inchcock Today). The amazing thing about this day was that I only dropped one pea! But I could not find it and gave up the search. Now, here it appears again, rock-solid, and on the carpet in front of the recliner? I mused over how this could be, and came to a conclusion, it was fell either in the stomach fold or the belly button, and I’d been carrying it around with me until this morning when I got up, and it fell out… No, no, that’s too far fetched! Or, it had fallen on the quilt and hybernated there… No, not that either, cause I washed the quilt a fortnight ago?
It will have to go down, and be blames on the ghosts, spirits, spectres, wraiths, apparitions. Phantasms, departed-souls, eidola, bogies, hallucinations, materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations, vampires, zombies, hobgoblins, succubi, grotesqueries, urchins, scapegraces, or alien lambs of the devil, that seem determined to enforce and watching me get confused, worried and crumbling into a mental wreck? But, maybe not.
At long last, I got on with the Health Checks. The no contact thermometer showed 32.7°c, the ear-hole on, 34.1°c.
I keep doing this using them both; I think in vain and silly hope the contact-free Amazon bought one might suddenly come good and work right? Why? I am a fool!
I go the Boot’s sphygmomanometer into use, next. The SYS had gone back up a little.
A sudden and needy call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. No hesitation was shown, I hobbled to the wet room and got down on the Throne, remembering the knee-raiser to use. What a cracking session! Quick, only discomfort, no real pain at all! Not a sign of any bleeding, and to top up the miracle, no mess!
These Dioctyl stool softeners take a while to work, built they are effective, now!
It was a slow, frustrating job; various ailments seemed to be taking in turn to give me some bother. But hey, that’s much better than them ganging up at the same time. Hours later, I got the updating finished, and the Tuesday post sent off. Emailed the link. Pinterested some photos. Updated the Facebooking and visited the Winwood Heights pages.
The landline flashed, it was Matron Jackie. She was with the Doctor, and asked how I was, and about the dizzies and walking into things. After a discussion, she asked if she could get the Doctor to arrange some specialist examinations. Bless Her! I agreed, of course.
I rang off and then, I thought I’d ring Deana, about ringing the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, to see if they are going to let me down again and leave me without any medications. But, the landline was dead! Recorded messages kept coming and repeating from Alarm Alert box “Your telephone is disconnected”… Oh, dearie me!
I got some black bags made up and took them to the waste chute. THen went down in te elevator to go and see Deana.
The top picture of the lobby entrance on my way out; looked like this one, later I lightened a copy so the unfinished electrics and holes in the wall and ceilings could be seen betterer. Hehe!
I hobbled up to Winwood Court and the Wardens holding-cell. She knew about the Virgin (It had to be them!) lines being down, and Virgin had told her everyone had had a letter telling them it was going down today. I hadn’t and many other tenants as well. We had a natter, and I forgot all about asking her to ring the chemist for me. Tsk!
I got back and carried out the ablutions. It went well today!
I got back and concentrated on my blogging, but it wasn’t easy. Hours later, the weariness came over me. I must remember the Dentist in the morning. I’ll leave a note for myself; I’ll do it now! Done!
I took a photo of the park play area behind the flats I was using the Kodak. It wasn’t a very good one.
Then made another effort of the end car park. That wasn’t so good either, Tsk!
Dang Kodak camera!
I had a quick look at the Your Area email magazine.
Found some bits relating to the Coronavirus figures, not that I understood them all. Getting awfully tired and beginning to lose my concentration, now!
I got up to check on the chilli-con-carne, it was alright, just needed a stirring, and went to wash my hands, and the dammed Dizzy Dennis had me over! Fell against a plastic bin, thus saving ant serious injury that was lucky, but I’ll need a new waste bin now.
But it doesn’t bother me in the least. Pickleglobknobs! Boulderclumps! Brunglebogs!, Fungleboggles! Gruffungrobblings! Skullclogglebonks! Kluggledanks! Klunglefrazzles! Grangleclogs Expuslivications! Puggleclumpdimwit! Flagtoggles! Gragnangles! Grogglebonksworth, Granglesbognessbuggerit! Criggleblogglesworthisms! Grumblemoanski! Knackwrangles! and Schluberdubersnarl! Turned off the computer, and got the nosh sorted.
Ate nosh, and nodded off.
All the photographs I took after this, I attempted to put on the computer in the morning. But, I failed miserably… these are the picklement snips from Windows. I just cannot get any photographs on at all.
I’m pretty low and depessed now!
– –
Now I’m miffed, lost, puzzled, angry, feeling sorry for myself, frustrated and have had enough!
In need of help with this, but lock-down prevents anyone calling to assist me! Humph!
00:05hrs: I stirred in need of a wee-wee. (And gratefulness at not being woken up for any wees, was present, and sincere).
The morning battle to extract my plump, burdensome, bellied body from the c1968, non-working recliner, went as well as it has for weeks now! A temporary Smug-Mode was adopted.
The wee-wee was a little more urgent than of late, so I utilised the awaiting nearby EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). This was the start of another wee-weeing day, of great repetitions and variety of modes. I’ll try not to mention them again, but they were persistent!
I took the bucket to the wet room for cleaning and sanitising, and needed another wee whilst doing this; I used the WC. I washed the hands and antisepticated the touch areas, and off to the kitchenette to get the kettle on. When it dawned on me, the state I was in last night; and yet now, here I was this morning, walking about with a reasonably clear head, not banging into things, and my balance had returned? The strangeness of senility is subjugated, when something confuses one further… I’m not sure what I meant to say there, but it came out wrong, I’m sure it did!
I turned on the kettle and tackled the Health Checks first. The old still working Boot’s BP hemadynamometer gave me a pleasant surprise, the SYS was down again, to 151. I was getting a feeling that things might not go so bad today – why? I’ve no idea!
I used both of the thermometers, as I have been doing for a few days now, to see how far out of sync the new one is, and Cor, Blimey! Luv a duck! I got the same reading on each one! Konrad Confusion was getting tested a bit, here!
I remembered the Iceland delivery is due this morning also my B.O. reminded me that I didn’t have a shower or shave yesterday, with not feeling too good. So, I planned to get as much computer work done as I could, but stop at 06:30hrs, so I could get a good stand-up wash (To early a time to use the noisy shower and disturb my neighbours), do the teggies and have a good shave. This needed doing badly and had to be achieved before the chance of anyu delivery arriving, thus allowing myself an hour-and-a-half to get the ablutions done. It may sound like a long time, but I can never be certain which of the ailments may affect things, so better safe than sorry. I’m waffling again… sorry about that.
I made the brew, took the medications, and got the computer going to download any photos first. I found two pictures that I could not recall taking last night. This one of the evening meal, shame I can’t recall much making it or even less of eating it.
And the second one is even more of a mystery to me. When I took it, I’ve no idea, but it was on the SD card following the dish of fodder. It looks like it’s belting down with rain outside, and the light was not on in the kitchen. Note that this information and Sherlock Holmesianess helped me to work out why or when I took the picture.
Then I spent many hours making up a template, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) was in good form, making progress very difficult, and she was with me for ages! Humph! Eventually, she calmed down and was only giving the odd little few second shudders, and I made good progress then, finished the template and got the updating done for yesterdays blog. Pinterested, some pictures, emailed the link and went on the WordPress Reader section.
I stopped to make a brew I noticed how the carpet was wearing out, from the computer desk to the wet room. I hope the lady urologist rings soon on her promised check-up on me, then I can tell her of the FWW (Frequent Wee-Weeing) problem.
I took these pictures in different camera settings from the thick-framed, unwanted, rain-letting-in, light & view-blocking, impossible to get at for cleaning (for me), kitchen window. Obviously, it had been devised to cause the most stress and discomfort to elderly disabled people. So, a few discrete back-handers may have been needed, to get them fitted into blocks of flats for old, and disabled folk to live with.
The designer, who is plainly a sufferer of gerascophobia, gerontophobia, classism, and perhaps ableism and ageism too, ought to have their own Coronavirus ward, so we can visit them, and offer forth advice and arsenic cocktails.
Still, these deadly-designed windows don’t bother me at all. Oh, no!
I had a ponder on what to have to eat for dinner today. The two crock-pots laid there, awaiting some attention? Ah, I’ll see what I’ve ordered from Iceland then make my mind up I think.
I came across this picture on Facebook; I thought it was worth a smile, so put it in.
Brekkers time. A buttered baguette and bag of Frazzles sound tempting, I’ll get the oven heating up.
Made one graphic on CorelDraw, then I got the breakfast served up. I remembered the Dentist to visit in the morning. I baked a brown baguette, and I gobbled some Frazzles, as well, had a drink of spring water with it. Enjoyable little nibble that was!
I washed the things and had washed a zip-up jacket. With my not having a shower and wearing this most of the day, it had to be done, and I added some disinfectant to the sink while I got the Ablutions tended to, to give it a real freshening-up!
Ablutionalisationing Session Report! A mixed bag of incidents today, good & bad!
– –
Yet again, as I got in the wet room, an urgent need to utilise the Porcelain Throne arrived. And a great evacuation it was in three ways; First, the size of it (Colossal!) Secondly, barley any discomfort or pain, and it was over quickly!
But messier than it’s been for many a month, much time cleaning up needed.
The teeth-cleaning went well, with only one toothpaste dropsies!
The nasal clearing was rather unfortunate. As I put the plastic-hose up my nose, SSS decided that would be a good time to give me a good shuddering and shaking bout – It took a while to stop the bleeding, Globnobhackers!
A mixed bag in the shaving department; Only one tiny cut!
But so many dropsies it got ridiculous!
The plates and pins were looking far too pale and bloodless for my liking!
However, the Chill-Con-Carne burn had all but faded away.
And the ankle ulcer too!
The Arthur Itis and Crtilidge Kathy Knees had transformed themselves once again, shape and lump-wise.
No bath towelling, so no knocking anything off of the cabinets!
No toe-Stubbing either! Oh, Yes!
The medicationing proffered a few moments of stings and pains and a couple of ‘Argh’s! And ‘Flipping-Heck’s’ (This is not the exact wordage used! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Arthur Itis’ knees Cartalidges damage being the worst offenders.
Although I did walk into the door frame leaving the room, this was a minor event, a triviality, that didn’t even draw any blood, or as far as I can tell, didn’t even leave me with a bruise!A piece of cake, of an imitation Accifauxpas! I laugh in its face! (I might be losing it again here?)
I got dressed, and hand washed the zip-up jumper, I used the fabric softener and some Lavender-orange Dettol disinfectant in the final hand rinse.
It smelt nice as I got the wash done, wrung and hung it over the sink to dry.
I was about to make a brew, of Thompsons Punjana this time, and the sky was filled, well there were dozens of crows flying by, they kept flying around in wide-arcs, and more birds joined them at the top of the trees near the park. I got the camera out and did my best to get some distant photographs of the creatures; it reminded me of Alfred Hitchcock’s, ‘The Birds’ film. The Murder of crows soon departed a few minutes later and flew en-masse up the hill behind the flats.
Then the rain came rather heavily, and I went to the balcony to take some shots of it through the windows. Ah, the new windows again! These are the ones that had fallen out or off when one or more of us oldies tried to open them. Have caused bruises, bleeding and scared many of us. But I think they were designed by the same gerontophobic or with hatred or fear of the elderly due to memento mori, personages. These obviously have gone a stage further than the kitchen window designers, who are happy to injure and scare us, this group of architects are trying to kill us. But you don’t like to complain, does yer. The rent is very fair here.
Minutes later the rain stopped altogether and the sun. I got the paperwork out to start sorting through, and, ‘Aha’, the intercom lit-up and ringeth!
T’was the Iceland delivery Gentleman. He was soon up at the flat door. And putting the carriers in the doorway inside for me. I thanked him and slipped him a can of G &T.
I couldn’t close the door, so moved the carriers around the corner, then closed the door. I thought I’d better move the bags into the kitchen straight away, in case of any fire alarm activations. I carried the carriers carefully into the kitchenette and set about sorting them out. No list of items was left again to check them off against.
I got the fodder stored away and discovered what it was I was going to have for today’s nosh.
A cheapo (£I) ready-meal I’d ordered. Cheesy beans, p[otatoes and sausage, cook in the oven ones. I’m going to bury the food in the tray with Leicester grated cheese and overcook it later. I may regret this, Hehe!
I remembered that I have to email the pharmacy today, to advise them that I only have three days of medications left. So, as soon as I got the fodder was sorted, I did this email. But not with any degree of confidence at all. With the number of times that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453. Just up the road from the Lidl store. They have left me without medications this year; it must be four times at least. I did this screen-shot to save, in case of any denials about getting the email. My faith in them has not recovered yet!
Here’s hoping they get here in time.
Then I had a check on the Google Calendar for any orders I may have put in with Morrisons.
Nope, nowt there, I’ll do one for next week, better check again to see what I’ve got on medically speaking.
Not an easy task getting an order in for Morrisons today.
I got this message as soon as I tried to access the site.
But, after last weeks disgusting service from Sainsbury’s, crap substitutes, and the damaged cakes and bread etc., I’m not too keen on using them again, my confidence in them is at an all-time low! Grubbledammum!
So, I did get on the Morrison site, add a delivery slot for the 10th November, 13:00 > 14:00hrs was obtained. They had no Frazzles, no Surami sticks and no Marmite cheese! Still, I got Salt & Vinegar crisps, Marmite Crisps, and Squid Vinegar along with much more stuff, like Milk Roll and Bread thins. Of course, that is if they arrive?
I got the oven heating up for the potato, cheese and sausage meal, to be cooked—some Leicester grated cheese in stock to cover it with. Oh, and I’ve ordered some Chilli-Con-Carni cans, as well as some cheap cans of red beans that can be used to top up the chilli. I’m getting into this chilli lark now.
Got the meal in the oven, and had a go at making one more graphic for the TFZers. Then replied to some comments that had come it.
Got the meal out of the oven, the cheese on top was burnt, just enough, to suit me, lovely!
I served it up pm a tray, added the potatoes, tomatoes and a few of the caramelised honeyed shallots. Boy was I enjoying it.
Then, part of the way through eating it, the umpteenth call for a wee-wee arrived, and turned it out when I got there; the Porcelain Throne was also needed. Leaving the meal, was inexorable, cruel, but now I had to cope with the evacuation as well. Grobbleknangles!
On the bright side, though, things went well, it was just the time to clean up afterwards that irked me. The thought of my wonderful meal getting ever colder. Grrr!
However, as you can see, when I got back, I devoured the remainder of the nosh. And, it got a 9/10 taste-rating, despite it being not so warm. Hahaha!
I got the pots, and stuff washed, moved the drying jacket, and got down with a can of Shandy, a bag of Frazzles and some nuts to nibble, as I tried to get to sleep. It said on the can that the shandy was 0.4% volume, so I felt a tad guilty, after so many alcoholicless years of my withdrawal struggle, I could taste the beer, even at this low percentage. I think I’ll be alright, though. Hehe! No chance of getting addicted again, I hope!
The swift envelopment of Sweet Morpheous was unexpected and so very welcome. The landline burst forth flashing away, as I struggled out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, rickey, none-working recliner, I thought it might be the Warfarin Clinic with the results and new dosages for me. I was happily wrong! Happy because it was Jenny ringing me, I always enjoy that, even when she tells me off about something. Hahaha! We had a natter and laugh, not that everything lodged into my grey-cell-box, and we said our farewells.
Getting back down in the recliner, I needed another wee-wee! Tsk! Again! I pray that I’m not going to start getting woke up in the night for the evacuations? Oh, dear! And Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding a bit, so off to the wet room for some painful treatment, and a good wash up.
I got back into the land of nod, with ease, and the dreams flowed, not that I can remember much of them, but I sense they were good ones, happy ones?
I slept through (I think) for a straight (Wee-wee-less) five hours until around midnightish! The dreaming didn’t stop, but I feel they were good ones, I’d love to remember more detail. Anyways, I woke up feeling in a decent mood… Oh, what were they about! Humph!
