00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.
The astonishing thing was the frame of mind I was in. I felt almost contented and ready for anything that came along? Naturally, this is not going to last long, but still, a great, if a rare, situation, that I will do my best to enjoy!
No calls to the Porcelain Throne or Wee-wee bucket either! I rose, caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.
I checked the hanging above the sink hand-washing and moved the jammie bottoms onto the upright clothes dryer. All this time, I was… I don’t know how to describe it, erm, like I was not me, or someone had hacked into my brain? No wee, no pooing, no mug of tea, Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy has never been kinder to me than they were this morning? Caught my balance without the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!
With a determination I’ve not possessed for months, I grabbed a bottle of spring water, and made for the computer, to upload last nights photographs, and start the updating of the Wednesday IT diary.
I’m certainly not claiming that I was efficient, or methodical in my efforts, as I began to work on CorelDraw to get the photographs resized. But my regular hesitancy, indecision and dilly-dallying were far less than they would usually be. I wish I could work-out why?
The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years!
Then I realised that the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were only rarely dying on me, and when they did, it was only for a few seconds at a time. I was baffled at this. But well happy with the situation! And pressed on as quickly as I could to take advantage!
I got the pictures done and into the WordPress gallery ready to use. Then started to update the Wednesday blog… and had to stop, damned shame this, just when I was getting something done, to go to the Porcelain Throne utilisationing.
I got to the wet room in plenty of time, not that it mattered. For Constipation Konrad repeated his Wednesday victory over Trotsky Terence, but by a bigger margin! At least 6-0! As I sat there, toying with the crossword book, and daring not try to force things along, and waiting for the innards to evacuate at their own pace – I soon realised that this was not going to happen. I don’t know why I put ‘soon’ there? It must have been a good fifteen minutes, and three new answers found for the crossword puzzle before I had no option, other than to grin and bear the pain (it was worst in weeks). And I urged the action to start. A few silent Argh! Eeks! and a couple of minutes later, the evacuation started, agonisingly slow, full pressure had to be applied on my behalf. In the midst of the protracted torture, I swore to take two of the Dioctyl® poo-softeners as soon as I could after this agonising session had finished. Which turned out was not to be, for a good few more minutes yet!
Harolds Haemorrhoids were going through hell, I could feel the blood, with it being warmer, hitting the body parts as it flowed. The torpedo even needed a final extra urging to finish the motion… at last! Well, that put the final nail in my feeling optimisticness!
I changed into a disheartened, forlorn mode. The cleaning up was not too bad, with the evacuated product being rock-hard. Even the cistern somehow managed to clear it away first flush!
But it had left me feeling so sore! I washed the rear-end and put the bloodied paper towels and sealed in the bin. The medicating of poor old Harold’s department, even using the Germoloid Ointment, was the most excruciating I’ve known for years!
I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!
But, these things happen, so I wasn’t bothered, and I took it casually in my stride. No cursing, planning getting my revenge or anything like that. Oh, no! Gesundheit!
A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too!
But, my being a well-educated, dedicated, sharp-witted, positive, capable, and ultra-determined character, I pressed on and got the updating finished, not giving a care to the ailments, back-luck or having just dropped my mobile, and it isn’t working now. Sob, Grubbleackers and Grrr! (No confidence Scenario emerging)
I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos.
A lot of the Christmas lights had been turned off for the night. I can’t blame anyone, they may encourage the attentions of burglars, distraction con-men, and local yobbery, who have been more active in Sherwood lately. I got these figures from the local Email Mag: Monthly Crime figures for little Sherwood, June 193 – July 196 – August 199 – September 211- Not good!
The knocking and banging from the workers have started off, started work early today, bless ’em. I made a start on this post…
When I opened the Notebook app to get the information stored, it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!
I got the ablutions done! Which went better than I expected. It’s all up and downs today? The usual dropsies and a few shaving nicks. The showering went as good as it has in months, no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.
I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. I’m not sure I meant to take it, or why if I did. Hehehe! But you never know, with the state of my memory and incertitude? Is that the right word? I’ll check. Yes, that’s the one.
I had to laugh when I was using the long shoe-horn to get the slippers on. Somehow or other, I’d got the horn stuck in the outer part of the faux-leather of the footwear, and it stuck there, needing extracting. But it was so funny, I got the smaller Canon camera and managed to take a shot of it with the left hand, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.
Then I moved the jammie bottoms on the fairer ti aid in drying them enough to wear. Judging by how damp they still were, I anticipate them being dried somewhere around next April. Haha!
I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.
Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.
I had a panicky moment and a kerfuffle finding the key fob to take with me so I can get back into the flats. Then, as I thought all was ready to take the trolley down to the bins, (It’s collection day today), I couldn’t find my long-distance spectacles! After a hunt around, I found them in plain view on the TV stand. The worrying thing, is how I missed them so many times in my searching?
I departed the flat, hoping to meet someone en route to the waste bins for a natter. I met a worker in the 2th-floor lift lobby, said hello, but he couldn’t understand English, So I gave him a smile, which was a bit silly-billy of me, cause I had the mask on! Hahaha!
No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.
Then hobbled to the and through the main lobby and out in the wet rain, to the bins awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.
Where I met the caretakers and got involved in the nattering session with them… well, that’s not strictly true. I did the talking, that bored them into a rolling-eyes mode within 30 seconds. I’m good at doing that, and with effort either!
I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor.
Getting out of the cage, I had my first wobbly of the day, (I’d done well up to now though!) and caught my shoulder through my weak spatial awareness, on the side of the lift. Which set of BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Humph!
Naturally, this didn’t bother me in the least. (Much!)
The worker’s equipment was in the lift lobby. I got back into the flat, and I got the kettle on, post-haste! And made a brew of glorious Glengettie.
I worked on this post for about four hours, and the back and right shoulder from hitting the lift side, was pretty bothersome, and the computing had to be stopped. At that moment, the landline rang forth. It was a recorded message; “Your internet connection will be disconnected in 24hrs – We have detected a hacking on your computer. Contact BT on… That’s as far I let the machine ramble on! I rang off, it must be a con of some sort being played on me.
I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle of Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in.
I took the evening medications, making sure I took another Dioctyl® poop-softener, I don’t want to go through the same agony as this morning again.
The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.
Then got the nosh sorted and served up.
As tired as I was, the nosh, eaten slowly, well masticated and savoured, got a taste-rating of 8.8/10. I must write down the extras I put in this Chill-Con-Carne.
I got the pots washed, and settled down early for once, in search of sleep. Which arrived pretty quickly, and lasted unbroken for three hours, before I woke up with a start, in desperate need of a wee-wee!
Last night, try as I did, and I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I got up, finished and posted off the blog. Nodded-off again! Yee-Haa!
02:45hrs: I woke (three-often-interrupted-for-wee-wees hours) in need of a wee-wee, but not urgently. I sensed and felt around the ailments, wriggled a bit and tested the legs, arms, wrists, ankles and torso, to try and self-diagnose, the little blighter’s veracity this morning.
I soon discovered that DD (Duodenal Donald) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), (later on joined by Anne Gyna – badly), yesterdays agonies that were given to me, were both top-of-the-heap again, pain-wise.
But the search for a silver-lining revealed that Arthur Itis, Reflux Roger, Cartilidge Cathy, Shaking Shaun and Saccades-Sandra and others, were seemingly in am empathetic mood with me! Bless ’em! So, as I tackled the mountainous task of heaving my crassulent, flabby, boing-boinging-stomached body from the clutches of the c1968 recliner, I adopted a kind-off; Hey-Ho!, attitude?
Having gone through the After-Stroke teams recommended balance-catching routine, the hobble to the wet room, was a struggle, but not for the usual reasons. No straight loss of balance, no Dizzy Dennis, nor Arthur Itis problems! Just a difficulty with the misjudging of distances to my right-side. Had there been a CCTV in the flat, it would have reminded any viewer of Freddie Frinton and the Ministry of Funny walks! Hehehe! But, there was no going into anything or tumbles on the way to the wet room, and the need of the Porcelain Throne arose en route.
How can things with the innards change so often? I’d been sat down for a few seconds, and without any warning, the evacuation began. Ooh, argh! And all done! No mess, no bleeding at all! How so much came out in such a little time amazed me! A bit of discomfort, but no pain as such, either! A 1-1 draw, between Constipation Konrad and Diarorrea Duncan. And, one flush cleared the elephantine mass away, too!
Anne Gyna was now taking over as Primo-Pain-Profferer, as I got in the kitchenette to make a brew. Got the kettle on and took this half-decent, semi-zoomed photograph, of the morning view, from the hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking window.
Maed a mug of Glengettie tea, and into the main room to do the Health Checks and take the medications.
Anne Gyna was continuing to give me grief! I must ask the Doctor about this on Monday, or ring 111, but they only tell you to see your Doctor, which is not going to be easy.
Got the sphygmomanometerisationing was done. The SYS was well down on yesterdays reading, at only 142! The pulse up a tad at 90, but I don’t think that’s a problem… I’ll ask Dr Google. Yep, okay! ‘Between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm)’
During the time since the Porcelain Throne visit, I’ve wee-wee’d eight times? Ah, well! I took the medications, with an extra Dioctyl® capsule, and Codeine 600g, but it isn’t helping ease Anne Gyna in the slightest, fed-up with this. But I reckon it did ease BPB later.
I made a start on this blog, in between several more SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) wees.
Then went on CorelDraw, to do a few graphics for the diary-top.
Getting artwork from the web to amend, I found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottinghamshire.
Blimey, Anne Gyna is giving me some high-quality hurtful stabbings! I had a wee-wee, and ent to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. I made up some small waste bags while the kettle boiled, and put them in the box, and onto the three-wheeled walker, ready to go down with some others later on.
Back to CorelDrawing. I ended up sorting some files out that I’d got mixed up, but still haven’t got any graphics done – Humph!
The feet were humming a little, so I took a look at them. They were fluid-retentioning again, I think, and the nails getting longer than ever!
I got the ablutionalisationing done. Not too much bother, not the showering caused owt worth mentioning. Multi-dropsies and a crack on the back of the head, when I was getting back up after retrieving the shoer-gel bottle for the umpteenth time.
The dressing was a struggle, and the medicationalisationing went well enough.
Then I got the small waste bags added to and stacked them in the box on the trolley-walker guide.
As I was doing this, the landline flashed and rang. It was Brother in law, Pete. We had a good chinwag. I was updated, on how Pete’s radiation treatments for his cancer had gone.
Next week he goes back for a cat-scan again, to have a look at how things are reacting the treatment he’s had. Fingers crossed! I told him Tim and Billumski on WordPress sent there best wishes.
Cheered him up a bit, I think!
Back to the rubbish sorting. Out and along by the lift lobby to the waste room chute.
Bit of a farce getting into the room. A bigger struggle to get the bags into the tiny opening. Trapped the finger (the same one as yesterday) in the heavy metal lid. A further kerfuffle getting the trolley out of the chute-room, trapped my ankle against the door and wheels of the guide. Well, it stops me getting bored, dunnit! Hahaha!
I took this photograph from the window near the waste-room door. Some Crows were flying about, but by the time I’d got the camera out they were long gone.
I even managed another moment to have a hullabaloo going back to the flat. A cracking well aimed for maximum pain, toe-stubbing, against the trolley!
I think I said ‘Well, fancy that!’ at the time.
I returned back to the flat and got on with doing Josie’s nosh.
I felt a little unexpectedly irritable with myself while doing the food prepping, but buggered if I know why? Got the meal delivered dead-on time again, midday! This is not the real meal delivered today, I forgot to p[picture it, and used an old one – Cheat!
Things went pear-shaped then! I had to go for another Porcelain Throne visit. So much blood came out, everything else of the visit was unimportant and forgettable. So I forgot it! I spent a good while cleaning up and medication, during which I found that both Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding! This actually eased the mind, at least I know why all that flood of blood escaped. Not feeling so good, now.
It made the PPs look pretty in red and white, though. Hahaha!
All calmed down now, I had a very late brekkers of the left-over cheesy potatoes with chives, sea salt, Leicester cheese and butter, from Josie’s nosh. Jolly good they tasted too!
BPB and DD were both still in attendance, and I was trying to do some graphicalisationing, but it was a hard slog with the concentration all shot.
And early head down was demanded. So I got on with making the main meal.
I added some tomatoes and peas to the Chilli-Con-Carne in the saucepan and made sure I checked it every few minutes, in between doing a Thoughts graphic for later use.
Put some part-baked rolls into the oven, and turned off Computer Katie.
Made up the evening pots of medications and put it on the ottoman, to take while eating. (Unfortunately, I failed to do so, but corrected this later when I woke up).
As you can see, I didn’t manage to eat all of the Chilli-Con-Carne meal, all as part of my self, and Doctor-imposed new diet. (Ahem!)
As I got down to watch something on TV, erm… whatever it was, Anne Gyna suddenly stopped her day-long marathon of giving me grief, it was like an Angel turning off a tap! Although Duodenal Donald and Back-Pain-Brenda were continuing with their assault, the relief at Anne Gyna retreating from the battle was almost frabjous, and appreciated!
Ah, yes, gorrit! It was an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that I wanted to watch, with Gordon… Hang on, that’s wrong… Erm, ah, Kitchen Nightmare. The brain’s going on one of its ‘Work-to-Rule’ episodes, again.
I watched the first part, and when the adverts came on, I thought I’ll nip through and get the pots in the sink to soak, which I did. It took me that long to get up, simply put the cutlery, dish and tray in the sink, and get back, and the next part of the programme had started. And we all know how long the Freeview commercial breaks can last! Hehehe!
At the second commercial break, I remember seeing the evening medications still in the plastic pot on the ottoman – and vaguely thinking, I’ll take them now… and I fell asleep!
23:50hrs: I stirred into this cruel, hyperbolic-ridden, masquerade called life, with all-consuming guilt you wouldn’t believe! I don’t!
The thought-storming was simply unstoppable, with the torrents of fears, worries, concerns, seemingly fighting each other to get their messages of gloom, to me! I questioned my own sanity at times. Where have all these apprehensions come from, and why?
I tried to elutriate them from my mind, but they turned into a self-blame and shame mode. Even the need of a wee-wee was of minor concern, countering this guilt-ridden state of mind was more important to me at this time.
As the wee-weeing urge, became stronger, I somehow temporarily partly-absterged them from my mind, and struggled, with a foggy-headedness, to force my Arthur Itis-suffering legs and bouncy-flabby-stomached torso out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and found that Metal-Micky (Four-pronged walking stick) was not in reach, at his usual place at the side of the Ottoman?
I was deceived for a few moments, but I had to hobble, stickless to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) To pass water, and I found Mickey in the corner near the bucket – the well-used, and half-full, the bucket!
Can anyone please tell me: How the heck, can I wake up in the night, unmangle my body from the recliner, get up and catch my balance, go to the bucket, have a wee-wee so many times, and back down again, and have no memory of doing so? Just thought I’d ask!
After using it, I managed to get the bucket to the wet room and cleaned up, disinfected, and back to the front room for future needs and demands. Then made my way to the kitchenette to get the kettle on, and had to hasten back to the wet-room!
The need for Porcelain Throne being the cause of this. And what a change this time!
Having got my body down on the seat and assumed the recommended optimum position by the gastroenterologist Doctor, (try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehe!) Back straight, feet raised on a box… Nothing happened, the motion started for a few seconds, then it was out with the crossword book time. I happened to look at the clock when I turned after getting the puzzle book – it was five minutes before the motion started again. But by gum, it hurt, but was light lightning, which caused more pain from poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Massive, nae monstrously-massive, one-torpedo size again (perhaps the size of the submarine? Haha!), a sort of wet clunk was heard as I eventually freed it from the innards and back passage, followed by a sort of gurgling noise?
The relief was lovely, though! But the cistern couldn’t cope with the submarine, and needed two refillings of the tank from the tap, to encourage it to disappear from view! Then the cleaning up that was another long job. The bodily refreshing and ‘Care’ haemorrhoid ointment applying, was something that set a new standard in the level of agony, today! Cor, blimey, I was in a right uncomfortable state. Tsk!
A final wash and sanitising of the contact points and back to the kitchen.
Where yet another new standard was achieved. Oh, yes! But not in pain. Thanks to an ill-timed dual-attack by SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and BB (Backpain-Brenda). On the right, you’ll see the results of my determined efforts to get some decent photographs were taken, of the view outside. The first one SSS made me catch the flash on switch early as I was about to open the window… But at least it had a reflection that shows the state of me poor old Cartilage Cathy ridden fingers. The second below must be one of my worst ever shots, Humph!
I took the body temperature as I waited for the kettle to boil. Well, well, another first for this Sunday! The temperature of 36.4°c was the same as yesterdays! All these years of having to record them for the surgery, this has never happened before.
The results for the SYS from the Boot’s sphygmomanometer of 166, would usually have been of concern to me, but compared to Saturday’s, it was betterer, well much lower anyway.
I finally got started with updating yesterdays blog. It cost me three hours, plus another one when I added a template for today’s to go on. But at least the ailments were being fairer to me at the moment. Apart from poor suffering, ripped open by an exiting, solid, giant-sized torpedo, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, they were very tender, any movement at all now, well how can put it? Argh!
I did another vain search for the Nikon camera lens, and the rain poured down, but it didn’t stop the louder than ever annoying ‘Hum”s droning noise! Grrr!
I thought it was a good idea to transfer the Kodak lens to the Nikon camera. Cunning eh?
Then I dropped the milk and made such a mess. I was on the point of crying. (I think a few tears may have leaked out) This did Duodenal Donald no good at all, seconds later Anne Gyna showed her disapproval!
Then as I was getting back up from cleaning the crap up, I hit my chin on the edge of the sink, and SSS gave me a shaking!
Depression Returns – Well, at least fed-upness!
Now I had enough – I openly spoke with our maker! (Honestly!) It went something like:
First, you let me get born with the tiniest, dinkiest manhood twinkle in the world, babies have more than I do now! Granted me double-pneumonia at three years of age. Made me as thick as pig-shit, so schooling was a nightmare of being bullied.
And why did you make me play in the school team when the flu bug (1959 I think), had lost them many footballing lads off school – I was the shortest pupil at that school, and they put me in goal! Come on!(We lost against Corpus Christie, 13-0)! I remember it well; they beat me up on the bus going back!
I worked hard and long hours, and you had me made redundant three times! You stopped me getting a tobacco and drinks licence for the shop, then allowed me to get robbed by my accountant, go bankrupt, end up doing security work, in which I was not just the only member of staff to get shot on duty – but, TWICE!
Then you made me go bald, sent me a duodenal ulcer, angina, deafness, saccades, lost half of my thumb, stopped the reflux valve from working, a hernia (fair enough they did find cancer while mending that -you didn’t see that one coming did yer!)
Then a dodgy ticker, new mechanical Aorta valve, three break-ins at the house and I had two muggings in Carrington, then the stroke (Thanks for that!)
Peripheral Neuropathy diagnosed! Then diabetes, return of lung struggles, then the bladder cancer. And the ankle and foot ulcers, they are just great fun. I’ve got a new one coming this morning. Thank you. I could go on mate, but I haven’t got the time. Humph!
Oh, go on then! Cheers for putting in such misery, frustration and risk of death, by making me use the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, but genuine thanks for having Jenny ♥ nearby.
Gawd I hope there isn’t a God now, or I’ll be for it!
Then, I prepped some potatoes and got them in the slow-cooker, to have with the Chilli-Con-Carne. I went to open the can with a view of adding some passata to marinate in the mixture.
Arrrrgh! The flaming new electric can opener is not working now! It gave out a whine, shuddered and died.
What next!
I woke up full of guilt and not knowing why!
Lost the camera lens cover!
Took two of the worst ever photographs in my life!
Suffered agony on the Porcelain Throne!
Fought to get the WC to work!
Smashed the milk bottle!
Nearly knocked me out hitting the draining board!
The Amazon can opener has packed up!
Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna are giving me a pasting!
And I think I’m losing, what bit of a molecule of grip I have left on life, now!
If there a word stronger than depression that I can use?
I had an uncertain moment, and for some reason had to go and check that I had not left the tap running in the wet room, which proved a painful experience. I hit my right knee against the shower chair, and thus, Neuropathy Pete, launched into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went. Getting back up to my feet (eventually), to find I’d clouted the left wrist against the chair on the way down. Hey-Ho!
I carried on blogging away; the wee-wees are not so regular today. Mind you, with the amount I must have past last night; it’s not surprising.
I’ve still got to get some graphics made up, but Josie’s dinner has to be prepped and made first. Back in a bit, I hope. I did some comment reading in between.
Then back to the cheffing duties. All went reasonably well, apart from cutting a tiny nick into my finger, adding the butter to her potatoes. Serves me right for using a knife to cut it with!
The cheesy potatoes I tried adding a little milk to them (Hence the lost bottle!), and plenty of butter, sea salt and Leicester Cheese. Sliced the last tomato, an egg, a fishcake with smoked haddock inside, a fillet of smoked salmon, a few Surami sticks, garden peas, and some pickled beetroot slices. A can of spiced rum and cola, and a couple of the Skinny strawberry chocolate nougat bars. I managed to deliver it once again, dead on midday. Josie said she liked the strawberry skinny’s and asked what was in the can and breadcrumbs. So I told her. Hehehe!
I was beginning to wane a little now and realised that getting any graphics made up was a no go. With Donald and Anne Gyna still bashing away at me, I was suddenly not up to much.
But I was determined to have a search for the Nikon camera lens again, which I tried to do methodically. On what must have been the third scouring of the kitchen, I realised I’d got the potatoes on the crockpot nearly done now. So, thought I’d have a tin of the ring-pull chilli and the potatoes for nosh later.
This was when to my own disbelief, I spotted the Nokia lens cap on top of the large slow cooker! Possible laughing at me! Hehe!
I decided that I’d swap them back, Kodak and Nikon with their own caps. This cheered me up a tad… but no, does anything ever go right with me?
The Kodak cap which was on the Nikon was now missing! Am I going mad, here! It cost me another hour of delving into any possible place that it could have fallen, checked all the jammie bottom pockets, jumper and coat ones too. Drawers, shelving as well! I even searched between the two chairs in case it had dropped down. This bending and getting back up again only made Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald angrier with me.
While I was giving up, I went to return the torch to the drawer… and thought I’d have a looking with it, between the computer desk (Hopewells G-Plan design, 1962, bought from the charity shop when I moved into the flat), and blow me down with a feather duster – there was the Kodak lens cap! I returned it to the Kodak camera.
There was no celebration about this, and I found myself back at this mornings state of mind, and the thought storms began again. To try and shake them off, I abandoned the computing and got some nosh sorted out after all. Which worked! Yee-Haa!
I found a can of CCC (Chilli-Con-Carne) that had a ring-pull opener, and some gravy and the boiled potatoes from the crock-pot. The last few Foul Beans from the fridge were put in the mix, and all armed upon the hob. Some milk roll bread, and a lemon yoghourt as well.
Absolutely divine! Flavour-Rating 8/10! As you can see here, I didn’t leave a lot! Mmm!
The washing up of all the pots and cutlery etc. from both Josie and my meals took what felt like an eternity!
I stripped off, flopped down in the recliner under the quilt, and settled to awaited the Nightmare Kitchen programme to start. I blissfully fell asleep, woke up in need of a wee-wee, forced my lumberous body from the recliner, had a wee-wee of the WTPP (Weak-Trickling-Pale-Painfree) mode… and realised I had not taken the evening medications yet. So I took ’em!
About three minutes into the programme, Sweet Morpheus returned. Nice!
02:15hrs: Woke and remembered the computer not working and letting me add any photographs.
And my depression returned, immediately. Down in the dumps before I’d even thought about getting up out of the recliner! Sickeningly sorry for myself! Not interested in getting up at all, then I recalled that it’s the dentist visit early today. And that got me even more discouraged! Things ain’t going very well at the moment!
Then the double need of a wee-wee and the porcelain Throne arrived together. A funny, rare feeling that! So, off to the wet room. For one of the messiest-ever evacuations. It seems that Trotsky Terence is fighting back! Tsk!
I had a lengthy cleaning up spell, ashed and went to the kitchenette to do the Health Checks and make a brew. The BP was SYS 75, Dia62, and Pulse 85. The thermometer reading was 34.4°c. The shame of not being able to photograph them, no point if the bloody computer is not going to recognise the drives. I sank even lower into the darkness of depression.
On the computer to make a template, and even that wasn’t easy. Various ailment attacked and completed the job lengthy, hard work, and got on my goat!
Then a Porcelain Throne No.2 was needed. Not as bad as the first one, but still messy.
Back to the computer and eventually got the updating done, emailed the link, Facebook and WordPress Reader section visited. This task took me a few hours to achieve.
Then, the Porcelain Throne No.3 was needed. Back to chronic Trotsky Terence’s control; a mess and cleaning up gain. What’s happening?
Did a start to this blog, but time beat me, I was too slow to achieve much, thanks to SSS and Nicolas, mainly. Now, I had to get the ablutions done, or I may be late for the dentist, and I know that the shaving must not be rushed, my EQ has just warned me? Hehe! Back in a bit, I hope…
(Continued from arriving home after the Dentist’s visit and some shopping, and a miracle, the photos are now being read and accepted again?!?!)
Ablutiuonalisationing: I did take my time in shaving, and no cuts at all. A few dropsies overall, about ten, but no injuries whatsoever! But no showering cause it was too early, a stand-up bath of sorts. A Swank and Smug Mode Adopted! Fair enough, there was just the one walking into the door frame on leaving, but of no consequence, a feather-duster blow.
I got some bags made up and taken to the waste-chute. And before leaving to go to the dentist, I started Computer Katie and tried to load the photos again, Well I was flabbergasted, my flab has never been so ghasted! They were accepted! So, not feeling confident about this, I uploaded yesterday’s pictures to CorelDraw straight away.
Which meant I needed to hurry a little now, before setting out on my trip to Mansfield Road, Sherwood taking the gravel hill up into Woodthorpe Grange. The layered evening sky shots, one to the left, straight ahead and to my right.
The others were of the Chilli-Con-Carni evening meal I had, then the and well enjoyed evening meal. I added some passata, mil chilli seasoning, bags of potatoes and some Balsamic vinegar to the mix.
If I recall correctly, it was an 8.5/10 for flavour rating! Hence the well scraped with the bread thins dish. A lemon mousse dessert, and I even left a slice of the bread uneaten. But then again, I’d put a load of spuds in with it. Hehehe! Slurp!
Yee-Ha! But I’ll wait until I try putting the ones on taken today before I get too excited! I took the little Canon camera with me, and as I went out of the lobby door, I spotted my first photographable thing, a large moth I think, on the glass of the filthy lobby windows.
I got a message on the camera ‘This card needs formatting and clearing before using’. Oh, ‘ecky thump! So I went back into the flat and swapped it for an old SD card, and tried that, I’m glad to say, it was accepted. Phew!
I thought I was doing well, I got down in the lift to the lobby, and out across Chestnut Walk and started up the gravel path, into Woodthorpe Grange Park. I got about half-way up, and the breathing was difficult, and I took my first breather. Had to have another break as well before I got up to the top.
But things improved once I was on level ground. In fact, it sloped a bit, and my scrawny, Clopidogrel pot-marked, short little legs got a belt on then, and no breathing problems.
The weather was not bad at all, and I soon found myself at the bottom and turning left along Mansfield Road.
Where I saw this Pavement Cyclist coming towards me, and he just rode on the road against traffic, and right in front of a white van coming out of Trevose Gardens, then back on the pavement and I had manoeuvre out of his way! As he shot by me close, he shouted ‘Couldn’t’… Ah, I see now, it was most likely a naughty word that sounded similar!
The poor mite was likely scared to death to go on the road, but the fungal-face, frigging, flipping, fuck-tard, facinorous, factious, foul-mouthed, fellow can’t help himself, I wished I could have helped him – to fall into the road and get ran-over! But I jest, of course. I think. Scumball! Gragglespitgurgler!
Up the hill, and down to the Co-op Store, where my weakness for food shopping was controlled to a degree! But when they have Sourdough batches on sale, and Frazzles in stock, one is going to be tempted! Hehehe!
Back up the hill, timing it well, (it was just good luck that I wasn’t late) to get there on time. The first challenge for me was bringing up the three steps with the walker-guide and shopping bag, walking stick and umbrella, not to mention the stuff bought at the Co-op shop. Hehehe! I made a hash of it, and some staff came to have a look what the noise and kerfuffle, was all about.
It was fun trying to talk with the receptionist, though. I’m not sure who heard less of what the other was saying! Anyway, they told me to sit down, and came over to me with questions, etc., the major embarrassment was my not knowing my landline number. Went through medical changes from the last visit – she was sorry she asked me, I think, I did go on a bit telling her of the Peripheral Neuropathy, the Stroke, the Diabetes and Saccades Sandra.
I got the crossword book out, and the other receptionist came over, asking if I could manage the stairs up the two floors to the surgery. I said its a struggle, but I made it last time. The other lady joined us, and she told me she’d arranged for me to go into the ground floor room to be done. But it will not be my usual dentist. I hid the beaming smile under my facemask, I’ve never liked him anyway, he’s curt and uninterested, plus he enjoys testing the teeth with venom and gusto, and only stops after I have cringed or said ‘Ow!’ This news cheered me up a tad!
A minute or so later, a young lady (I still notice these things you know! Haha!), arrived and escorted me to a surgery; where the female dentist set about asking the right questions, (whether she was absorbing the answers, I don’t know) but she was a lot gentler with her prodding. I pointed out the tooth that was giving me a little pain, and that there was a hole in the tooth. This didn’t seem to bother her, and she took some X-rays and declared my teggies as being okay. She gave me paperwork to hand to the receptionist when I pay her. I thanked her and wobbled to the reception desk.No receipt for the money spent, mind?
Now hear this – for it is the truth: The receptionist said she had arranged for a ground floor surgery to be used on my next visit, took the money and gave me an appointment on a Thursday, for 13th May 2021 @ 09:00hrs. Then, the other receptionist came out and helped me down the lethal steps, bless her, and a chap passing by came and steadied me when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances as I was going down the steps. All very embarrassing, yet heartwarming at the same time. ♥
I made my way to the Ozan Continental Food store. Where I lost it completely with all that food around me, and got carried away without a care in the world about whether I needed the stuff or just fancied it! I came across the Krakus canned Boczek and bought a tin, the none of Golonkowa, erm, then a Lopatka and Moussaka… a can of Monalisa Foul Mecames, a can of sausage and beans and Roasted fresh Meat Loaf. I must curtail my fondness of food foraging!
The meatloaf Ingredients: Pork 40%, Chicken meal 20%, drinking water with root vegetables, carrots, parsnips, & peas, breadcrumbs, onion, garlic, nitrate salt, marjoram, and burnt sugar. Well, I’ll give it a go with some of the Sourdough bread later I got, later…
♫ Oh, the good life, full of food seems to be the ideal,
Mmm, The good life lets you eat Marmite and cow-heel,
You won’t fall in love for you can’t take the chance
Overeat and destroy romance, and lose your balance… ♫
A little bit of silliness there, sorry, no charge! Hehehe!
I strode up Mansfield Road and right onto, Winchester Street to await a bus up the hill back home. Thinking, well dreaming, of little other than the meatloaf I’d bought, and the butter to go on the sourdough bread batch, and tomatoes…
The pipping of the car horns brought me out of my foodstuffs-reverie. A dirty astonishing massive lorry was trying to turn around on Winchester Street to make a delivery perhaps, or had he seen how steep the road was and had a lot of weight one? I know about having a lot of weight on, you know!
The bus driveress, handed me a leaflet to read, about a service where we can travel for half-fare and get picked up from the flats, well that’s worth looking into.
We were soon back at Winwood Heights, and someone unknown helped me off at the bus stop. Thank you, muchly ♥.
I hobbled along and called in at the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), holding cell, interrogation room and office, to have a word with Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden Deana. No one in. I’ll ring, later on, and I must ask her to ring the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, to make sure they are not going to let me down with the medications again.
I poddled along to Woodthorpe Court and into the lift cage, hello, some wet on the floor I found. No idea what it was, so I avoided treading in it.
Up to the 12th floor, and out and into the apartment. I had a wee-wee first, (How surprising, Hehe!)
Then I got the purchases stored away, after checking them out.
On closer inspection, I was greatly disappointed to see that the roasted meatloaf I’d purchased, had a use-by date of only three days! Never mind, I intended to eat it tonight, so no problem. It’s just that I now fancied some Chilli-Con-Carne instead. Humph!
I telephoned Dean later, and she will come to see me later on this afternoon, she has an important meeting on first.
I made a brew and got on with updating this blog. Thankfully, the computer is currently accepting and recognising the SD card reader.
I spotted the note wot I wrote to remind me about the dentist. A good job I remembered innit?
I had a look at the ‘YourArea’ email magazine thingy, for any up to date Coronavirus figures. This is all I found, but the Red Alert has been removed from the site.
This is for Nottinghamshire.
Well, no Deana yet, and it’s now gone my meal start time, and I’ll need to get some kip in soon. I’ll bet the meeting Deana’s at is one of those on-and-on sessions. I want to wash and strip off ready, but it would be too much of a shock for the gal if she came then. Hahaha!
But, I need to know about the medications soon, especially with the new ones supposedly going on the monthly list. I’m surprised that Chemist owner Deepak hasn’t answered my email, it was him that told me to send one when I was three days away from running out? Well, now in the morning, I’ll only have sufficed medications in stock, for tomorrow alone. Oh, dear!
I want to get the nosh prepared, but, oh, well. Sleep escapes me again. My fault for going to kip so early, mind you, but not today!
Got the meal prepared. I opened the meatloaf, and got it slices, and tried a nibble, in case I was not too fond of it. The vegetables were chunky, the garlic and chilli in the meat were strongish (for my tastes), but I quite liked it all the same.
Got the Sourdough bread sliced (No cut fingers, although a few dropsies doing it). Put the beans with the mild chilly seasoning and tomatoes from the saucepan into the dish—a flavour rating of 7/10. But the meatloaf was tasty enough.
I got the TV on to accompany me while I ate the fodder, and as I noted a Kitchen Nightmare was coming up soon, so as I finished the food, I went and got the washing up done.
The view from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen windows was impressive. I took a couple of photos, and one down onto Chestnut Walk.
The iconic IRCMS (International Red Car Monitoring Services) (Ohio Branch), top head supremo, Billumski Zeighyler, will note there are three red vehicles on this Chestnut Walk view tonight. One moving a bit rapidly? Yes!
Doing the pot washing resulted in a few, I’m afraid to say.
I know have one less, nae, in fact, no drinking glasses left now – doomed to be smashed on the floor, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure!
Carefully I collected the glass, taking particular care not get any cuts.
But I did clout my shoulder against the sink getting back up again from the floor. Huh!
Emptying the bowl, SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley started, and the floor had to be mopped dry, and body towelled. Oy, Oy, Oy!
The only painful part, was when I banged the Cartilage Cathy little finger on the tap (faucet). That stung a bit!
I eventually got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, senescent, hoary, worn-out, rickety recliner, and turned on the TV.
My £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, mobile rang forth and flashed. (This may not describe exactly, the model of my mobile, but near enough, Hahaha!)
A distant sounding voice, that seemed possibly Polish or Latvian, (No lousy language heard) began to mouth-off, moaning about a taxi or something. By the time I got into the one-way conversation and told the man, I was not a taxi company; he rang off immediately. Ah, well! I hope the gentleman got his cab after all.
Resettled in the recliner once again, I took the medications, and the Gordon Ramsay programme came on. I’d seen it before, so turned off the set. This was when the Thought-Storms exploded, with concerns and worries. Will the cpmputer still recongnise the Card reader? – Why did the dentist tell me the tooth was alright; when it obviously isn’t? – Will I remember to try and catch Deana again to ask her to ring the chemist for me about the prescriptions? – Why on earth did I buy the meatloaf? How do I find someone to cut my ever longer and getting warped toe-nails? – I must get to call in the opticians to get my glasses adjusted – Why did I go a complete day without a leg-dance of any note? (not complaining though) – There is someting else I had to remember for Friday, I know there is, but what?
But SSS shook me out of the mindset I was in, and in doing so, I knocked the TV remote and tablet tray that was resting in the folds of my flabby-stomach belly down between the recliner and chair – And they can stay there!
TFZer Keith: ♫ ‘Home, home on the range…’ ♫ Hehehe!
Sunday 25th October 2020
HMONG: Hnub Sunday 25 Lub Kaum Hli 2020
03:15hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, with the Thought-Storms that had made such a mess of my getting to sleep, still active, nae, rampant in the grey cells! Fungleboggles!
The new pain in the stomach area where I injected last night was stabbing away at me, although it could have been Anne Gyna, it’s hard to tell at times. I wasn’t Duodenal Donald, I’m sure.
I was busy trying to ignore the fears, hatreds and overwrought distracted thoughts milling about in my bonce, and help soon arrived in the form of a sudden and critical demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.
I could sense the urgency, and feared that an embarrassing escapage was likely! Responding, by going into a semi-panic-stricken mode, a caution to the wind attitude was adopted, and I flailed about, knocking things off of the ottoman as I hauled my fat-fleshy, flaccid, flexuous, floppy, stomached heavy body onto my feet, got some balance, and was off to the wet room.
Hastening into the Throne-Room, the shoulder came into contact with the door frame, giving out a sicking crunching noise, and a jolt of pain! But this was not important at the time, getting the jammy-bottoms, and my bum on the toilet in time was more urgent (at least it took my mind off of the new stomach stings, Haha!).
This session was a real different one this morning, good and bad changes! Things flowed, to the accompaniment of the longest wee-wee I’ve ever had! The putrid aroma filled my lungs; the evacuation was over in a minute or so. Gawd, it was messy! It was a good job I have plenty of toilet paper in stock! The wee-weeing continued? Hard to tell really, but I do believe the wee-wee colour was lighter, at last! The gungy mass of stool filled the bowl so much, the wee didn’t have anywhere to go, and floated atop! Still, it took my mind off off the crunched shoulder and stomach pains for a while!
The tank had to be flushed twice to clear things, refilled by hand from the jug and sink. Then I had a soapy washing up, bleaching and sanitisationing session. Time for a feel of the shoulder, which the Accifauxpas did not set SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off?
No idea what it was on the arm, but I went to put some Savlon on it, and the lighter brown marks from this mornings clout into the doorframe, (I thought), nearly all disappeared, sort-of washed off? Just the bluey-red bruises underneath left now. Logicality, common sense was questioned, and a certainty that the end is nigh for my limited remaining scraps of judgement and level-headedness! This ought to put on telly; there’s bound to be someone who can save my sanity and tell me what happened?
I now had mixed feelings. Glad that Constipation Konrad had been beaten at last – but this has taken some time and effort: Nine days of the four-a-day Dioctyl® stool softeners. The week of MacroBid® UTI antibiotics and several meals of Chilli-Con-Carne. Hahaha!
I was not looking forward to doing the injecting of the Enoxaparin, so got it dealt with first! The new hypodermic needles, which I suspected would have longer needles, didn’t! That was a nice discovery, a glimmer of luck at last?
All went smoothly, and the old Medical Sharps bin, was too full to use, so I started the new one-off. This made me think about getting rid of them. I looked it up of the NHS site. This is what I found.
All confused now! I’ve re-capped the mall! I’d better get them all out and sort them, before getting rid of them to the Pharmacy. I’m certain that the Nottingham City Council do not collect them, or there would be a special, dedicated box for them at these old folks flats?
Nope! I can’t open the box’s to get them out. Another plan goes to pot! And the shoulder is starting to smart now! Grumptiville!
Ah, well, I got the Health Checks done, the old sphygmomanometer is still working. But the SYS is still too high. I wonder why? (I sigh!)
The no-contact thermometer was used, and, I got the camera all ready, to snap it before it self-turned off.
Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on the boil, and took this blind-snap of Chestnut Walk in the dark, below the thick-framed, new windows, that is impossible for disabled folk to get to for cleaning, thick-framed and obviously designed by someone who suffers from a hatred for the elderly and gerontophobia.
Made the brew of the tasty Glengettie tea, took the medications and got on the computer. I last nights photographs to CorelDraw. I faffed about a bit, going from one thing to another again, but eventually got the Saturday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Then Pinterested some snaps. Did some Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader. I found an email from Jenny, offering me some more yellow tomatoes, bless her cotton socks, she’s going to bring them down for me later today, bless her cotton socks. ♥
Time to get the ablutions sorted out, I took the mug to the kitchen and took a photo of the beautiful morning view, to compare with the earlier one.
Then, it dawned on me after I’d stripped to get the ablutions done. I’d not changed the timing on my time-pieces. So I did! I changed the clock in the kitchen, the wet room travel clock, the wall clock that fell of the wall and the casing broke, that is now balanced, resting on the fireplace top, but had a feeling I’d missed something, ah-well, not to fret.
So off I trotted (Trotted? Hahaha!) to the wet room, and had a marvellous session, mostly. There was nae bother from Toothache Thomas, and just three dropsies. The shaving had only two minor nicks, but several dropsies. The showering was the only blight of the session. I clouted the same wounded shoulder again, as I was coming up from retrieving the shower gel bottle (Six dropsies altogether in there). The showerhead escaped my clutches and landed on my overgrown painful already left big toe… Then bounced back up right into the cartilage-troubled right knees patella!
If I recall correctly, I silently mouthed something like “Tsk, never mind, can’t be helped!” (Yer!)
The doing of the medicationalisationing had only two incidents worth mentioning, I knocked several of the medications off of the floor cabinet, and clouted my head against the metal frame of the seat-raiser as I stretched with the picker-upperer, to retrieve the Germoloid and Savlon tubes. Gragnangles!
Got dressed and had a search around for the hat I went into the wet room wearing, I’m sure I did, but it’s never been seen since. More of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ They are working hard this morning!
I got the jammy-bottoms washed, all done, wrung and hung to dry, above the sink. Which proved later to be an idiotic thing to do, as I would need to use the sink while preparing Josie’s dinner! Crumpalisations!
The new pains in the left of the chest returned. I was surprised I noticed really, cause there are that many ailments having a go at me at the same time. The bruised arm, Duodenal Donald, the PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), The toenail on the left foot, and just started, Reflux Roger. Silver-Lining-Result-Search-Result: At least the others are being kind to me. Humph!
I got the fodder made up, it was not easy, because (Big mouth here) SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was kicking off, I was getting soaked each time I used the sink, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were letting me down. I was making more mess than ever before, and getting more het-up each time.
Still, Got it finished, it was just the thought of having to tackle all that was cleaning up afterwards that took the edge off what should have been my proud moment.
Pickled egg, silverskin onions, tomatoes, gherkins, sweet young carrots, anchovies, Tuna steak mixed with some balsamic vinegar and mayonnaise. And, of course, my world-famous, cheesy-mashed-spuds. I went the whole-hog today with them. New Zealand butter, sea salt, Squid vinegar, and parsley and black pepper, with just a drop of olive oil. I hope Josie likes them.
I got them delivered to her door, she asked what this and that was, and retired to feast on it (I hope). I got back in the kitchen and wondered who’d dropped the bomb, of course, the mess had been made by an army of contributors. Me, SSS, Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun and Saccades Sandra, to mention a few. Hehehe! But they didn’t help in cleaning up the picklement the kitchen was in, did they? Oh, no, that was left down to me. Swine!
As I had just got down on my knees to clean around the sink, where the dripping pyjamas had spilt over, and the door chimes rang out. At first, I thought it might be Josie with a problem or question, but no! I opened the door to see a wonderful sight! Jenny had been come up and delivered her treat for me, right outside the door; the yellow tomatoes. Double bless her! ♥ I don’t know how she got them so late in the year, but so appreciate her gesture. I got them in the fridge, ready to have later.
As I finished the cleaning up, Duodenal Donald doubled his determined damned pain giving efforts, and Dizzy Dennis returned. Tsk!
I got back on Computer Cameron to u[date this blog a little further. Then had a look for any new comments on WordPress. Two had come in, replied to them both.
Then went on the Sainsbury site, to increase my order for next Tuesday, of Chilli-con-carne. All done!
I visited the ‘Your Area’ latest newsletter.
Nosh prepping next, so weary suddenly. But it went well, but once again the various ailments meant me making a mess as I went along. Tsk!
Got the evening medications ready as I went along, and the plate of food served up. Not one of my tastiest efforts, but the Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes were great. I think maybe the Enoxaparin is playing tricks with my taste buds? Flavour rating: 6/10.
Got the pots in the sink to leave soaking. It’s the mess that the cheesy potatoes make yer know! I pretended to do some clearing up in the bomb-site (kitchen), but not a lot, in fact very little… well, hardly any!
The evening sky was worth a photo-taking, so I did.
None of the amazingly vivid colours of last night, but a blend of peaceful shades. And peaceful sounds good, and needed, to me!
00:00hrs: I awoke, with a medley of muffled and confusing thoughts hammering around the brain box. No wee-wee or Porcelain Throne needs to distract me this morning, meant a few minutes and headache gained by the time I pulled my concentration away from the malaise, of the muddled-melange of omnium-gatherum thoughts, fears, ambitions, and intentions, which did not stand a cat-in-hells chance of success, I’d nodded off again!
00:30hrs: The second-stirring: Suddenly wide awake, no Thought Storms either! I heaved, huffed and puffed, released my colossally-stomached with scrawny limbs attached, body and the bald-head, (No mean-feat at my weight, I can tell yer!), from the c1968 recliner. To find that Duodenal Donald was in a bad mood again, and giving me some stick. (It’s about time he gave me a break!) Still, there was no wee-wee wanted? Caught my balance easily enough this time, no falling back down on the recliner and bursting Harold’s Haemorrhoids… A tentative Smug-Mode was adopted! And I limped off to the kitchenette with Metal-Mickey. To get the Health Checks done.
I’ve got the hang of the new BP sphygmomanometer, but I must remember it takes three times as long to come to a result, as the old one did. If I remember, I’ll try the old one again in the morning, to see if it’s not the ‘New’ Duracell batteries that are the problem). The SYS was high again, Tsk!
The No-Touch thermometer worked alright, but it turns itself off too quickly. I’ll try to make sure the camera is nearby in future; it read at first as 32.4°c – I retook it, and got 33.9°c? Another thing to remember, I must look it up on Mr Google, to find out how far away from the head to take the temperature from. I’m doing it about four inches? I hope any advice I get is in proper inches and not metric.
Took the medications and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Note in the picture, the Morrison skewer? These have a thick end and are easier for when I want a really strong cuppa, I can squash the bag against the cup. Difficult, nae, impossible when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters are playing up.
I got a few potatoes in the crock-pot, plenty of Squid and distilled vinegar to flavour them. I added a bit of black pepper to them later on. I’ll turn them on later. (Famous last words?)
I may not be a Chef de cuisine, but for a 44-year-old, failure, I keep trying. I’m getting betterer… Alright, alright, so I got the age a few months out! Hahaha!
I got onto the computer and answered some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. Then got on with updating the Monday blog, which seemed to take longer than ever. Mind you, a lot of photograph uploads, and doctoring was needed to the bad ones, so it looks like I took them right, the first time.
Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters were making it hard work, and Duodenal Donald was not helping my concentration at all. (Sodding useless Peptac!)
Aha, a sudden but non-urgent call to the Porcelain Throne arrived! So I saved all the work, turned of Computer Cameron, and decided to get the Ablutions done after the Throne Session. (Did yer see that? A cantlet of organisational-ability crept in, there! Oh, yes!)
Another stand-up job, too early to use the shower, with the Iceland delivery being expected early today.
However, looking through rose-coloured glasses, and being sanguine, the ablution session went not too bad at all… well, it could have been worse, maybe not one of my best ones, perhaps…
Alright, it was pandemonium Accifauxpa-wise! More dropsies than ever before. (Thank you, Nicodemus!) During the series of droppages, I broke the best razor, a bottle of aftershave slipped, and the spray-top cover burst open (Mind you, I smell nice now, Haha!) and I cannot get the cap off now! Cut my finger retrieving a plastic double-bladed replacement razor. Cracked my head against the sink when I dropped and bent down to get the body spray.
The Silver-Lining Search results: No toe-stubbing, no knocking anything off of anywhere, and only one incident of walking into the door frame, and that was a minor incident. And this cheered me up, the new haemorrhoid cream worked a treat! But then again, there was no bleeding when I used it. So it’ll need testing-out when applied as the blood is flowing. It could have been worse, really methinks!
As I came out of the wet-room, a series on unexpected, involuntary passings of wind shook me a bit, and the tummy began to ache instantly and has stayed that way for hours. I’m going downhill again. Tsk!
I did some more updating, and Duodenal Donald seemed to ease off considerably, but the innards were still aching badly. (Who can’t win? Humph!) I stopped computerisationing again, and put the kettle on, and popped out on the balcony to take a couple of photographicalisations.
The first one, to my right, was of the grave-hill path up into the park, from Chestnut Walk. Many months since I’ve been up[ there, and I remember struggling to get up it as well, Hey-Ho! Then, to my left and a slightly zoomed-in shot of Winchester Street. The building bottom left, shows the top-floor lights on, this is the National Laundry premises. Beneath them, are various rented garages, with a couple of Arthur Daley, “No problem you can have the MOT now…” type characters. Hehehe!
I got a message from Iceland informing me that I should be getting the delivery twixt 08:20 and 09:00hrs. Fair enough! I checked the email they mentioned. They have no frozen baked potatoes, so a refund had been arranged.
Shortly, the Intercom sounded, luckily Herbert was taking a break from his clattering and banging, so I heard it alright. I saw it was the Iceland deliveryman, pressed him in, and got a can of G&T for him. He came up and put the carriers inside the door for me in the hall, that was kind of him.
Slipped him the thank you can of plonk, and took the carrier bags through to the kitchen to sort out. As you can see, there was not a lot of stuff ordered today. Most of it was made up of plank for Christmas pressies, so I do not need to get any later. I’m all ready now, in case I’m kept in when the bowel op is done. See that as well? Forward-planning? Me? Oh, Yes!
This is all I had that was not for Christmas pressies. But I’m going to make up a Morrison order for next week. Here I go…
I got the Morrison order done, got confirmation, then realised I’d made it for this Thursday, not next Thursday. Doah!
But felt suddenly so bad, Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis, and I’m swaying with hardly any control. I left it, got something to eat cooking. I rang Jenny to see if she had any details of the window cleaner arriving. All messy, truth we do not know if he is coming or not.
In the morning, the rest of today’s events are just a blur. No idea what I had to eat, no photo on the card, nothing recalled until I was stripped and in the c1968 recliner, and spent hours trying to get to sleep, it was as if I was drunk or something. It took me hours to nod off, then I sprang awake an hour later, at 23:00hrs, in need of a wee-wee… Tsk!
02:40hrs: I stirred back into mu usual confused semi alive state, and was immediately aware that something was wrong, not right or unusual. But what?
The World-Wide Hum was blasting away, as usual, I was still uncertain what it was, for a few moments, and then minutes. Aha! Gorrit! No demands were being made of me, to use the Porcelain Throne, or for a wee-wee! Now I was more puzzled than before I’d worked out what it was that was annoying me. I had a terribly dry and sore throat, tight chest, and breathing was a bit of an effort, with sharp intakes of breath all the time. It sounds like a chill or cold to me.
The moment I began to encourage my colossal belly with a body attached to it out of the c1968 recliner, a call for a wee-wee was received from the bladder. What a sad picklement I got into.
Getting to Little Inchy in time, was hard work, a button torn off of the jammies, and the PPs were ripped… and what for? The equivalent of a couple of tablespoonsful of the deepest orange wee-wee I’ve ever seen before! Silver-Lining-Search-Result: At least there was no pain with this release or partial release, I should say. Humph!
I took the bucket for sanitising, had a good wash, but didn’t change the torn PPs, cause I’m going to have to change them when I get the ablutions done later. Off to the kitchenette, with a stirring, a scintilla of near excitement, at the thought of using the new tin BP sphygmomanometer instrument for measuring my arterial blood pressure, at least with this being the same operational procedure as the old one, I was pretty confident in using it.
But, I got sidetracked after putting on the kettle and having a look at the morning view. Out of the light & view-blocking, impossible to reach for cleaning, new window, and got the urge to try once again (current record 210 photos, Two decent ones taken), to attempt to get some good pictures!
Well, not as bad as usual, indeed not good though! I nosied down to Chestnut Walk and took a snap in Aperture Priority setting. When I viewed the screen, it did look like a space ship of some sort was landing near the flats (Top left). I was tickled pink with it, and later made a more significant copy, and used it for the second picture down the blog today. I think the dark unidentifiable trees had covered part of some houses, leaving the impression of an alien craft. Or is it just me?
Finally, I got around to doing the BP Checks, then took the medications with a guzzle or two of the bottled spring water. The SYS is even higher today. But, it was lower than the first one I took earlier – it was 171 on that one; but by the time I’d got the camera ready, the machine turned itself off. Which is a good function, saves on battery life. I must remember to get the Nikon or Canon ready beforehand in future.
I then got the new head-thermometer out. I’m not so certain about using this at all. The print on the instructions is ridiculously small. I’ve no idea what needs doing with the SET plus/Minus buttons, but being as it seems to be working, I was a smidge nervous of cocking things up by toying with the settings. Lack of confidence? Me? Yes!
It came out at 34.4°c, and that must be okay, cause the screen was coloured green? I felt a soupçon on satisfaction in getting it right, the first time. But I’d like to have known how I did it. Hehehe!
Made a delightful brew of Glengettie tea, and I gulped down a few mouthfuls of the inadequate, wishy-washy, ineffective Peptac crap antacid medicine that the Doctor thinks, and told me years ago, ‘It’ll work a treat for your duodenal ulcer!’ I’m still waiting for it to do anything, something, to ease the pain! Tsk!
As I was settling at the computer, I realised there was no tingling coming from the ankle ulcer, so I investigated, with the Nikon!
Frottleclamorious! It is looking like it’s definitely on the wain. Never looked so uninflamed ever! But, will it come back again? Offering me more pain! Driving me insane? Will I be back on the vervain? She may never come back to drive me insane! Or are my hopes all in vain? I got carried away there with the rhyming, sorry.
I remembered the Morrison order is coming twixt 06:00>07:00hrs, so pressed on getting the updating of the Sunday blog done, but no time to double-check it, post it or anything. The ablutions, a stand-up job with it being so early, had to be done, so I turned everything off to give the computer a little time to cool down, and off to the wet room, I trudged.
A second wee-wee was needed as I got in the room, another waste-of-time-trickle-only affair, but this time a smidgeon of pain with it, not that it lasted long.
Things went unbelievably smoothly, Toothache Thomas okay, no cuts shaving, oh yes there was, I nicked my right ear-hole. All was going so well; until the ablutions and medicationalisationing were complete, and it came to replacing the PPs and getting dressed… Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched without any hints or warnings, into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I crumbled to the floor, via the sock-glide on the chair! I believe I may have muttered something along the lines of; ‘Well fancy that!’ And struggling to get back up, as I hit my right elbow on the edge of the floor cabinet, ‘Blow me down!’
I returned to post off the Sunday post. Spent hours sorting out the graphics, literally, I got in a right mess as the internet kept going slower and slower.
The Morrison delivery arrived, and I slipped the chap a can of G&T for his bother and in thanks.
I’d got the last of the Christmas giveaway plonk in, and some batteries. The regular stuff, such as washing up liquid, bleach, bleach, Surf, instant potatoes, toilet cleaner, Irish potato farls, tomatoes, a bag of potatoes, bread thins, lemon mousse, mini raspberry and vanilla rolls, haemorrhoid cream, and even a packet of wooden skewers. Iceland no longer stock them, Tsk!
Got the goods stored away, and decided that today’s meal would be Chilli-Con-Carni. (hope this doesn’t make the poo too soft and runny!)
I got the fodder into the saucepan, with a tin of Heinz sweet curried baked beans, and a selection of Jenny-supplied yellow and red tomatoes chopped into the mix. And some Squid vinegar, and left to marinate before heating up later on.
Four potatoes will be added later from the crock-pot, being done a low-setting.
I’ll do some Irish potato farls in the oven later on, and have them as a substitute for having bread. Stomach too large and flabby!
It was an odd feeling, not having to wee-wee so often all day.
I did some graphicalising on CorelDraw, which took an aeon to get sorted and finished.
Then closed down Computer Katie, and got on with making up the recycling and rubbish bags. And stacked them on the three-wheeler-walker. Put the glass recycling bag on the trolley handles. I put the small waste bags in the delivery box, with the recycling one on top. Quite an industrial mode was adopted? Haha!
I put the little Canon camera, and keys & door fob to get back in the flats, in my pocket. Got my mask on, too. (See? I don’t always forget to take them!)
To the waste-room and downed the small bags in the chute, without any injuries or hassle at all! Smug-Mode-Temporarily-Assumed!
Caught the lift down to the ground floor, and out into the sunshine on Chestnut Walk. Put the glass in the bin, left the bag of recycling materials by the big bin, it was full. Sherlock Holmesian Mode Engaged; The workmen had I imagine, been using it, judging by the concrete and sandbags in there. At least they looked like them to me.
A steady wobble along the road to Winwood Court and the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation Office. Had a natter and a laugh with Riechsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana.
As I departed and was hobbling back to Woodthorpe Court, I espied Penny and Christine ahead on me, just off of the bus. They were having a chinwag on the pavement. Aha, a chance for another beloved nattering session, perhaps!
I waved and moved towards them, but they scarpered rather swiftly away from me. No way could I catch them up, although I tried, but, I soon started struggling for breath, and gave-up. Then, of course, I realised, I’d got the black mask on, that may have put them off. Hahaha!
All clear of life and residents when I got in the lobby, I took this photo as I got into the lift. The box on top of the trolley is the PP carton I use to transport things down to the chute or bins. Also, now that Sainsbury’s have stopped using carrier bags for their deliveries, I use it to put the groceries in.
I got in the flat, taking a wee-wee, and Josie rangeth the doorbell’s Dusty Springfield tune, ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ . She was returning the Sunday lunch things for me. Josie gave me another packet of cheese-curls. Thanked her, and returned to finish off my wee-wee. Not that it was worth doing, a sprinkle, cough, and it was all finished. And deep orange again, Tsk!
As I started to prepare the meal, I had some NHS stuff posted through the door. Advice on how to poo! On hoe to wee! And directions for what not to eat and drink Which included the demand for me not to drink ordinary tea, only decaffeinated! Well, now I need a stool, to use, to pass my stools! Har-har-har!
By the time I’d read half of it, my head was spinning!
I took the evening medications, remembering the Dioctyl®, and the last of the Macrobid antibiotic capsules, (Also known as, brand names Nitrofurantoin, Aratoin, Macrodantin and Furadantin – nowt like getting confused is there). After ten days of taking this, my urine is still clour matched as No.6 – Very Dehydrated? That did a lot of good!
Mind you, Dioctyl®(Docusate Sodium) poo-softener isn’t exactly doing much good either! Admitted, it’s a smidge easier than it was to pass, though. But still so painful and as much bleeding as before going on them. I’m not the luckiest of people! Haha!
Finally, I got the fodder served up. Tim Price thinks this Chilli-Con-Carne will do me better, passing-wise. Hahaha! Some part-baked rolls found and still in date, were added. And it was so tasty. The Flavour-Rating given was 805/10! I nearly ate all of the stuff on the stray! Yummy in the extreme!
I took the tray with the well-scrapped dish and got them soaking in the sink.
I had a wash, a few gulps of the defeasible, ineffective, impotent, anandrious Peptac antacid medicine, as Duodenal Donald was kicking off again, and treated Harold’s Haemorrhoids to a treat of Germoloids, before settling down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, haemorrhoid-attacking, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, in search of some sleep.
No chance of my nodding off, Duodenal Donald made sure of that! So, I got a New Tricks DVD to watch. And was soon off in the land of nod… Bliss!
The door chimes burst forth! Just what I wanted this was! I fumbled my way free of the recliner. Getting some clothes and slippers on…
I stubbed my right foot big toe! Grobbleknackerbangles! Then walked into the doorframe going out of the room to the hallway. (I was getting angrier and more uptight as the seconds passed!)
No one was there! Spurgledamnations!
Either they had lost patience waiting for me to get to the door?
Or it was one of the famous Woodthorpe Court aliens: ghosts, wraiths, spirits, spectres, apparitions, phantasms, eidola, or poltergeist?
Or, in my slumber, I’d imagined, or dreamed of the door-buzzers going off?
Even less chance than ever of getting back to sleep now, Donald was still stinging and stabbing at me. Hogglebogwash!
I went to get a drink of warm milk, thinking it might help me find Sweet Morpheus. But no! I hadn’t got any. I’d plenty of individual serving sachets of milk, mind. So, I opted to make a mug of Gelngettie Gold tea instead, with an extra sachet of milk in it.
I had a look at the big toe to see if it had bruised or gone black, but it was fine, stinging only the slightest bit.
The best thing I spotted was that the leg-ulcer was fading fast! Yahoo!
: 03:00hrs: Due to the wonderfully pathetic service from Liberty-Global, Virgin Media internet connection, constantly going down today, this will be a short, messy, and quick diary of the day’s disasters. And with CorelDraw playing up something rotten, I’m stumped for time to get things done. I’m very sorry about this. Not as in-depth and revealing as usual. Still, being the twerp I am, I ended up staying up late to get caught up with it.
If you know of any reasonably priced, reliable assassins, perhaps you’d like to arrange for Mr Fries, the Liberty-Global boss. To have a visit? New York-based global investment equity firm KKR announced Wednesday that it acquired Corel, taking ownership from Vector Capital. I can’t find the animal in charge there, but I hope he or she is in pain and catches the Virus.
Of course, I’m only joking.
Rose, and had to use the Porcelain Throne. Argh! Constipation Konrad still in charge. Agony! But the leg ulcer was looking so much calmer, now.
Got the Health Checks done. The BP results were scary. Took the medications.
The stick thermometer was also playing up and not giving a reading, other than low.
Onto the computer, will a determination to get a crack-on… Hahahaha! With Libert-Global and CorelDraw’s combined inabilities and constant cock-ups, there was no chance!
The internet was going down so very often! Frustration turned to anger later. Humph! It did sp, so often, I shall not mention it again, well, we’ll see!
Facebooking was a grind, not pleasure. Pinteresting was farcical! I was getting into some fine messes on the computer!
I kept knocking off, doing other jobs, I took a snap of Chestnut Walk.
Then stupidly thinking things would come back on proper. What a clot I am! Got the ablutions done, took my time and it was a fair session, no injuries, although the dropsies were more than plentiful.
I tried ringing Warden Deana, to ask her to ring the Doctors for me, to order some Macrogol on the next prescriptions for me. But there was no reply. Either busy, or on holiday, or moved somewhere else?
Jenny rang. She is having the same struggle with Lacksadisical Liberty-Global. She suggested I send an email asking for prescriptions, which made me wonder why I wasn’t doing this. Hehe! I did enjoy the little natter and laugh. ♥Later I recalled getting the letter telling me they cannot take prescription requests via email, anymore. Tsk!
Sister Jane rang me to tell me she had not received the email link. I wasn’t surprised I’d forgotten to send it, with all the mayhem this morning. I apologised and said I’d do it as soon as, or if, I can get the Template made up. We had a longish chinwag, and that broke the depression, cheered me up. ♥
Then off to the Porcelain Throne again – another bad one, no improvement, despite the Macrogol and Dyoctyl, I’m on. But, no bleeding this time from Harold’s Haemorrhoids! And the legs were all calm. Bloodless looking mind you.
Uncomfortable in the extreme, I got some bags of rubbish made up and taken to the waste chute. Not the easiest of tasks this morning. I loaded the three-wheeler walker guide with the various sized bags and hobbled with them (Not dropping any en route, Smug-Mode-Engaged!) to the chute room.
Made a brew, and took the Docusate sodium and an extra Maccrogol sachet. I’ve not got a lot of confidence in them, but fair do’s, give them another day or so, and they might start working. Or not! Well, they didn’t, making me very late in getting my head down, to catch up. Brunglebogs!
I had a go ar making the graphics again. I spent more time correcting things than creating owt! Grrr!
And of course, the internet kept packing up in the middle of doing things!
THe wee-weeing was frequenter than ever, but only dribbles most of the time. I checked the colour against the chart, and it was still on No.6, very dehydrated.
On the other side of the NHS card, was a reminder to drink 2½ to 3½ litres of liquids a day, while I’m on the Dioctyl capsules for the week.
But, I have no decaffeinated tea in stock.
So I was taking spring water in between the Thompsons Punaja, Glengettie, Assam and Glengettie Gold, brews.
Then, I remembered that I forgot to send the blog links off, so got it tended to.
The ‘Hum’ was accompanied wit he few taps, knocks and clunks, from Herbert in the flat above. I wonder what model he’s making today? I rarely see anyone nowadays with this lockdown for a chinwag. Mind you, he’s a bit of a reticent, taciturn sort of superior acting bloke, so I’m not missing anything there, then.
Off I poddled to the wet room for what must be the twentieth wee-wee of the day, possibly more actually.
The leg ulcer seemed to be getting a smidge more inflamed? And the Clopdogrel lumps and papules looked like returning.
Time to take the evening medications now. Then get some fodder prepared.
As I got in the kitchen, I found that I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running, and now had no hot water. Ah, well, at least I haven’t done this for at least three days. Humph!
I had a go again at getting the lid off of the balsamic vinegar and honeyed shallots. To my amazement, I got it off! Well pleased with this! I split the contents, half and half, with the original jar to be taken down for Jenny and Frank, the other half, having put some of the onions on my plate for later, went in an old lidded plastic container and into the fridge. I rang Jenny to tell her I’d be calling, but the gal was busy on the line. Got the Jenny-jar in a bag, ready to go down.
Got the potato cakes in the oven, took this photo of the afternoon view, then gave Jenny another call on the phone. The gal was still busy, so I got the stick, and a jar of pickled shallots and went down to put them outside her door, rang the bell and then had fun getting the list back up. Hehe!
Got back at last, and worked on getting the dinner made up. Not much cooking involved at all. But I managed to burn the potato cakes a bit too much, even for me. Hoggleglumps! The new shallot onions and the Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes were the highlight of the meal. The Lidl potato thins, reminded me of chewing newspaper when I was a kid, and short of food – but the newspaper had more taste. Hehehe!
Put the pots in the bowl to soak, and I got down in the c1968 non-working recliner that my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred Brother-in-Law Pete broke, when he was clearing the flat of my monies and valuables after I had the stroke… Where was I? Oh, yes, head down with the only intention being to get some sleep. But no! Although I was spared any Thought-Storming tonight, Duodenal Donald made an excellent substitute ‘Keep-Awakener’.
I didn’t bother getting up, to take any of the nugatory Peptac medicine, and tried to carry one, ith little chance of, but getting to sleep!
But Duodenal Donald was on top form tonight, and out of desperation, I got up and gave myself a pretty reasonably nasty toe-stubbing en route to the kitchen, to have a large guzzle or two of the weak ineffective, inadequate, not up-to-the-job Peptac medicine. There were no spare Omeprazole capsules, now they come in the dosage-pods, but things were so painful and uncomfortable with Duodenal Donald, I took one of tomorrow mornings ones, which I may well regret in the morning, methinks! I swallowed the capsule and took the pathetic Peptac bottle to the recliner with me, and it was well used, but to no effect. Humph!
01:30hrs: I woke to find myself wriggling about, and in need of both a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Getting there in time was going to be a challenge! I extracted my oleaginous, ponderosity, of an over-flabby-stomached body, wrenched it from the c1968 recliner, and with a high degree of gaucheness, stumbled and blustered my way, knocking my right shoulder on the door frame en route to the WC room.
No hesitating this morning, I plonked the body-mass down on the Throne… the tinkling wee-wee burst forth and was one of the longest I’ve had in years. The wee-wee, with both PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble), was eventually finished.
But no movement from the rear-end, I’m afraid. Which was a great disappointment, I thought things were steadily improving in this department with the Dioctyl stool-softeners I’ve been taking since Friday, but no! Back to Constipation Konrad’s control again. Rock-Hard, and back to the agonalistcalisationing also! Argh! And waiting for the movement to start, well at least it let me have time to have a go at the crosswords.
I had a think-back, ‘Did I take last night’s capsules?’ I wasn’t 100% sure but thought I had. I’m dithering again! An incompetent memory can be an annoying bind at times! Pickleglobknobs!
Washed and disinfected, and got to the kitchenette. And decided before any kettle putting on, Health Checks or medicationalisationing, I’d have another go at taking a decent picture, of the morning view. Si, I did. Not too bad, I suppose.
The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer results showed that the SYS had shot back up again. Humph! I can’t understand this; maybe the different medications are affecting these figures? Hey-Ho! At least the DIA and Pulse levels were okay.
I got the stick thermometer, remembering it played up yesterday morning, I took care as I monitored the level underneath the armpit this time. The outcome was a reading of either 33.1° or 33.7°c. Too low by far, but it’s been lower this last week.
I tried a blind shot, down from the kitchen window onto Chestnut Walk, not too bad.
I took the medications, and got on the computer, and did a Thought Graphic and PAge top one first, then made up the template. As I was doing this…
Mr Fries pathetic, useless, ever-increasing the prices Liberty-Global internet, went down several times throughout the day, but only for short periods, varying twixt a few seconds and two minutes or so. Bramflacklemshittums! to the philargyristic, sod-the-service-indoctrinated Liberty-Global! Grrr!
I came across a chart and details of the World-Wide ‘Hum’ sufferers. Got this graph, just for a little extra interest, I don’t like to bore my readers, you, either of them. Hehehe! Did you notice that Nottingham has got more than anywhere else? Humph!
I got started on updating the diary for Sunday, not a lot left to do, so it didn’t take very long this time. Mostly, thanks to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Saccades Sandra, and even SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), all being so kind to me. Temporary-Smug-Mode Engaged!
I sent off the blog, emailed the link and did some Facebooking catch-up.
Then made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and took the next Dioctyl capsule, then I made up a sachet of Macrogol with spring water, and gulped it down. I don’t want to risk another rock-hard session on the Throne. I can feel that Harold’s Haemorrhoids are still bleeding as I’m typing this, thank heavens I invested in the PPs! I then replied to some comments and went on the WordPress reader. Off to the wetroom, to clean and medicate things in need, and change into some new PPs.
I’m so glad I ordered the Hubbard’s Chilli-Con-Carne, now I’ve tried it, albeit a little contaminated with the garden peas and potatoes. Fantastic taste, not too strong for me, I’d hoped it would help in passing on the Throne, but it didn’t do any good today. Then again, as I mentioned the meal was weakened by my adding the peas, so next time, I’ll have it neat, so’s to speak. Fish and Surami sticks, potatoes, tomatoes and a pickled egg for tonight for me… well, that’s the plan.
I’m concerned about fetching the Antibiotics from the chemist with how I’m feeling, the dizzies and a touch of a cold methinks, but it has to be done, I suppose. Time to get the ablutions done now, so off to the wet room (Well it makes sense, that’s where the shower is, Hahaha!)
Well, well, well, and my, oh my, oh my; that was without question, one of the best ablution session ever! (Since coming home from the stroke unit!) A toothache-free cleaning the teggies! Wait for this one… No cuts or nicks shaving! Not one! (Head sways cockily, and Smug-Mode-Grade-One-adopted!) Fair enough, the regular dropsies were a few more than usual, though, that’s due to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters.
The showering produced only one clout against the grab bar. The drying off, nothing was scattered or knocked off of anything! The other pleasant surprise, was the ankle ulcer looked like it was easing off a tad! This is all foreign to me, good luck. It worries me!
Here are a few photographs of the Escape to the Pharmacist, I’m going to make a stand-alone photographicalisational post about it, if I can get it done tonight, I’ll post it early.
When I collected the MacroBid® 100mg from the chemists, I called in the Lidl store to get some bread thins, to go in the freezer, so I don’t run out as easily this month; when Sainsbury’s and Iceland fail to deliver any. Naturally, I bought no-end of stuff. Shower gels (2), bin liners (2), Seafood sticks, Disposable razors, Mini Weiners, San Marzano tomatoes, and Brown and white bread thins (3). I also got a Sourdough Boule, that was for Jenny, by way of a thank you for her caring.
I paid and departed to the bus stop, and promptly got on the wrong bus! Got off, and caught the right bus. Then realised it was not the wrong bus and would have taken me to Sherwood as well, anyway.
I descended in Sherwood, just in time to miss the 40 bus back up to the flats! Gringleglops! So had a long wait in the bus shelter to contend with.
Arriving back at the flats, I nearly fell off of the bus, it was a close call, but no harm done apart from embarrassment of course. Well, I hit my elbow, Tsk! Hobbled along to Woodthorpe Court, and took this picture of the block front, had a dizzy turn with looking upwards. There’s no winning is there!
On the walk come wobble to the chemist earlier, you’ll see in the ‘Inchcock’s Escape No6, to the Pharmacy’ blog, I had to go on the roadway to get by vehicles, with the trolley, several times. And was not pleased to see this van parked on the pavement, leaving me with the thick wet grass, or the road to use to get by to the foyer. The lads apologised for the blockage, and that was alright, but parking is as you read, a problem at Winwood Heights for everyone. The team had a lot of furniture to load up, and the men had no choice of where to park up.
I got inside, and called at Jenny’s, to drop off the sourdough boule. Jenny appeared as I was closing the flat lobby door, but I couldn’t hear what the gal said, so told her I’d seen them taking the loaf out of the oven, and knowing she loved sourdough, couldn’t resist getting it for her. I’m not sure if she heard me or not. Old age, eh? Hahaha!
Getting the elevator up, took me a while. When I got in the flat, I was greeted by some almost musical loud ♫Clunks, thuds, and much tap-tapping♫ for a while from dead-above. Fancy that!
I got the purchases stored away, and then it dawned on me… I’ve got an Iceland order coming in the morning! Just what’s the matter with my terrible memory lately, confuses me. Probably a side-effect of ageing, or I’m going bonkers?
This thought carried over, to when I got the new capsules out, and I had a read of the instructions. Well, that should be easy enough to remember. They are Nitrofurantoin (the active substance in MacroBID) is an antibiotic. It is used to prevent and treat infections of the bladder, kidney and other parts of the urinary tract.
With the docusate sodium (Stool-Softener), is four a day on the prescription form. These are to be taken with ‘lots’ of water. The Macrobid is to be taken only with, or immediately after eating food. All very confusionalistic to me. (Then again, this comes easily to me nowadays!) Humph!
I took a docusate sodium capsule and got the dosages made up for tonight all, ready, in case I should fall asleep. With having some medications in the pill-pods and some loose, and the medicine (Peptac, so nowt to worry about there, cause it’s so weak and ineffective!) It’s to be expected that Duodenal Donald is always feasting on giving me pain, with this nugatory, Peptac being the only thing to counter him! Mind you, come to think of it, I reckon one of the other tablets is supposed to work on him, erm… Ramipril? No, that’s for the blood pressure. (I’m looking these up as I go along, Tsk!) Codeine Phosphate, no, just a pain killer. Bisoprolol that might be it… Oh, no, that’s a beta-blocker. Atorvastatin, nope that’s used to lower cholesterol. It’s got to be this one then, Lansoprazole: Ah; This is it, it’s for Reflux Roger and Gastroesophageal-reflux-disease (GORD). Lansoprazole is also taken to prevent and treat stomach ulcers. It makes me feel and sound so smart when I use Google, Hahaha!
And, I have to remember the Phorpain gel (Arthur Itis, and Colin Cramps) three-times a day, the Corticosteroid for the ankle ulcer and Clotrimazole, for Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. And the ever-changing dosages of Warfarin, it’s no wonder I get confused. Oh, and the Emollient cream, all over after showering. And of course, the precious Germoloid cream and ointment for Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I can get Anusol cream from the doctor on prescription, but it is not very useful, compared to the Germoloid.
It gets even worse, when every month, the podded medications from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who’s Pharmacist does the packaging leaving static electricity in them every time, and many tablets jump into other pods. Which is problematical, when in them are Codeine 60g and the Beta Blockers that are the same size, and I have no idea which is which. Or, as happened last Friday, you gently puncture the pod cover, and the tablets shoot out all over the place, many never to be seen again!
By gum, life is interesting when yer gerrin’ on a bit! It would help if the memory weren’t deteriorating so fast, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters weren’t dying off! Hey-ho! A little moan now and then does help, I think.
Where was I? Oh, yes! I got the SD card in and uploaded the photograph to CorelDraw, then resized them, and doctored the Macrobid one, with a couple of the capsules, I was quite pleased with that one. I got on with updating this blog.
The doorbells chimed out Dusty Springfield’s tune; ♫I only want to be with you!♫. It was Josie returning yesterday’s diner plate, tray and things. We had a chinwag and a bit of a laugh for once. I enjoyed that!
Then I turned my hand to creating the blog of the trip out, I intend to call it; ‘Inchcock’s Escape No6, to the Pharmacy’. Oh, I may have mentioned that a few times already, sorry. I’ll be back when it’s all done, TTFNski.
Got it done and posted off. Put some snaps on Pinterest, and emailed the link. Then went on Facebooking. I carried out a search for the latest Nottingham Coronavirus details; it was not good!
I came across this horrific item, below! Where did those Nottingham Police Officers come from? I’ve only seen one of them in town on my last six visits!
Is it any wonder, with so few police officers on the streets of Nottingham? And to think, I have passed this very spot, on all of my Escapes to Town, many times. With everyone being around the same time of this stabbing. I’ve even taken photographs of the exact entrance! I am less inclined to go to town anymore.
Extremely late now, hours past my usual head-down time, and I’ve got to prepare the meal yet, Tsk! But, for some reason, they were well in date, the Surami sticks had to be thrown away, they tasted so, off! I ate the rest of the plate of fodder though; it was alright without the fish thingamabobs. Still got a 7/10 taste rating. The tomatoes and potato cakes were most enjoyable. I’m hoping the taste buds are not losing it, that’s a possible sign of Coronvirus I think.
Put the pots in soak, and I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner.
Then I had to suffer a Thought-Storm that lasted for yonks, made no sense to me, and wore me out mentally. Tsk! Nonesensical hogwash, gibberish, balderdash, drivel and bilge filled my head. I was havig my own verbal psychological pandemic.
I had to get up to have a wee-wee, and when I got doen again, could I remember anything specific from the tormenting hogwash of fears, thoughts and concerns that had been niggling away at me, minutes earlier? No!
02:40hrs: It’s almost like clockwork recently, the waking in need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne immediately on stirring back into imitation ersatz life!
I sort of found myself clambering out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, dusty, rusty, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, and on my way to the wet-room with Metal-Micky (the four-pronged walking stick), without realising I was doing it. Haha!
The movement was almost identical to the last few visits. I little nudge out, and a long, long wait for things to start again. I got the crossword book and had a go at it. The ‘second-wave’ came sooner than expected, it was the usual massive torpedo-like single dollop, but was much messier! It took ages to clean things up, and flushes were needed to get the ‘product’ down. The pain was not so bad, though!
All the while I was sat, I sensed the feeling that there were maggots or worms underneath the ankle ulcer area, and it then started to sting a smidge?
When I applied some Germolene to the area, the cream seemed to melt and disappear. Some tiny new blotches were appearing here and there on the right foot as well. I thought to be more worried about the cadaverously welmish, ghostly, pale-looking, bloodlessness, really. I’m assuming, that I am still alive, cause I just hit my elbow on the door frame, leaving the wet room. Ouch… Hehehe!)
I wobbled my way to the kitchenette and did the Health Checks. I was taken aback a bit by the BP sphygmomanometer readings, by gum, yes! SYS at 178, DIA was 93! That’s not good methinks?
The stick thermometer read a decent 34.9°c. I got the kettle on and took the medications from the medical draw no,3 (Hehe!) and made up a sachet of Macrogol, and added a Senna to the morning dosages, but I was not sure if I should take these or not, as the messiness of the Throne visit, had me in two minds?
Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and put the potatoes in the crock-pot, too early to put them on yet. Decided to take the Senna and Macrogol anyway.
I’m hoping that Matron Julie will be calling me on the phone today, I’ll mention this when and if she does ring.
I was a bit more concerned than usual, so did a search on Google, putting in; Sys178 Dia 83, and these graphs came up. Apparently, it’s 2nd-stage Hypertension. Mmm? I delved into the site. Got these snippets:
What is Hypertension Stage 2 Blood Pressure: Hypertension stage 2 is a chronic condition that is diagnosed upon readings that put a person’s systolic pressure at more than 160, with a diastolic pressure of higher than 100. Unlike earlier forms of hypertension, this cannot be treated solely with a change in diet, though that will help. Those suffering from this condition will often be required to take several different medications to keep this condition under control through the lowering of blood pressure. One important thing to keep in mind is that there can be absolutely zero symptoms for Hypertension Stage 2, which is why it’s essential to get your blood pressure checked on a regular basis.
Risks of Hypertension Stage 2 Blood Pressure: There is a myriad of risks associated with the onset of Hypertension Stage 2. For one, hypertension is a huge risk factor for peripheral arterial disease, chronic kidney disease, aneurysms within the arteries, strokes and basic heart disease. Those with this condition will also find that it can even lower life expectancy. There are also two different diseases that a person with Hypertension Stage 2 is at risk of developing if left untreated, including coronary artery disease and what is known as hypertensive heart disease.
Well, that cheered me up no end!
I got the updating done, twixt Nicodemuses’ Neurotransmitter’s failings, Duodenal Donald stagging away, and many wee-wee’s. Got it posted to WordPress, Emailed the link and Pinterested some pictures… and it was back hastily to the Porcelain Throne. It was a similar version as the first, same size and messiness, quicker, and far less painful. I allowed myself a little ‘Smug-Mode moment’! Cleaned up, changed the PPs, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.
Back to the computering, finished the Facebooking update, answered comments and got on with creating the templates. Two-and-a-half later, I’d got two of them done. And concentrated on creating this post.
I stopped to have some brekkers. A pot noodle, a raspberry ripple mousse and a mug of Glengettie tea.
The ablutions next, slightly later than usual. Nicodemus and Donald had delayed me muchly with their interference on my computerisationings. Tsk!
The right foot seems to have transmogrified again. Where the original ulcer was, has calmed down, well, in appearance, but the tingling under the skin remains. I’ve developed some odd shapes on top of the foot, and it’s getting a little blown again? Hey-ho!
The clean and srub-up were one of the best I’ve had for months! Naturally, there were more dropsies than ever, but that’s to be expected when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters play up. Toothache Terence was not bad at all, shaving, as I mentioned tons of dropsies, but only one tiny nick! Not knocking anything over, and on leaving, I manipulated my way through the doorway, without any clunks or bangs at all! Smug-Mode, now upgraded to Super-Smug-Mode. (With a possibility, of my bursting into song at any time!)
I decided to go on CorelDraw to try my best to get some graphics made, but there was one Crap-Worthy thing that stopped my progressing… HieghtShorks!
Suddenly I’m just not well, no idea what’s causing the vagueness, completely worn-out feeling. Now, Duodenal Donald and SSS are having a go at me? Waiting for the Amazon and delivery, if it arrives in time, I’m going to get my head down! Huh! Reflux Roger has joined in, too!
I weakened when I saw the Drivers mini-silverskin onions, in balsamic vinegar & honey! By golly, they look and sound good! I’m out of bread with Iceland and Morrisons not having any, but this is a good thing methinks, with the dieting failures. Hahaha!
I must remember when I get the chance, to ring Jenny yo see if she would like some of these onions, I’ve a spare jar and lid washed ready, so I can put them in for her to try.
I’m not up to much, and I’m nervous of falling to sleep while waiting for the onions.
I’m not up to any meal making, but I had some cheese biscuits and a pot of lemon yoghourt.
The Amazon chappie cameth, and I got the jar stashed away.
