♫Doo – do-do-do, doo doo doo doo…♫ TFZers Clint!
Monday 5th October 2020
Haitian Creole: Lendi 5 Oktòb 2020
: 01:40hrs: I didn’t need to wake-up, I’d not managed to get to sleep. I was so worried about Sister Jane and Pete, and not knowing. Duodenal Donald was ever-present in differing degrees of pain-giving. Tsk!
I passed wind and wanted a wee-wee. Escaped the £300, second-hand, not-operational recliner, and without even trying to check my balance.
I took a wee-wee, an LDSSM (Long-Dribbling-Spraying-Splashing-Marathon) one. Trotted off, taking the well-used EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) with me to be emptied cleaned and sanitised, to the wet room.
: Midway through disinfecting the bucket, and I need a second wee-wee! The AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) was more like a river, Tsk! (Later on, inspired by the wee-weeing flood, I changed the original thought-graphic above. and made this new one up. I thought it was funny enough and topical to the Inchies Tale of Woe? Hehehe!
Had a clean-up, and changed the PP’s. Then off to the kitchen. The lights seemed to be twinkling a lot more this morning, a little like Sister Jane’s when she laughs and smiles, which brought back the fretting and hopes that she is alright. She and Pete have gone through the medical grindstone lately. ♥
The Health-Checks were done. Duodenal Donald was hacking away at me again, most uncomfortable.
I reckon the worrying about our Jane and Pete is the reason behind the pain. They do not deserve such bad luck.
The SYS was still high, but down on yesterday.
The pulse was up a lot, though? I’ll check ion a while to see what it should be, on Google.
The stick-thermometer showed a decent 
rise of body temperature, at 35.3°c. When I got the check done on the pulse, this is a screen-shot of what it should be. But it only confused me more than before. Why two columns of figures? Anyroad, I reckon the pulse is a bit high. Hang on, though, Resting Heart Rate? Conrad Confusion, reigns?
I did some waste bag making and sorting out. Having to make tiny bags is a bind, but necessary all the same, otherwise, using bigger bags, means they cannot go down the narrow, tiny, wrought-iron waste-chute openings. Hence, I now have about nine bags to deposit down the shaft later on, far 
too early to use it now, it’d wake folks up on its way down.
This photo on the right is from last Monday. When Diarrhorea Donald, had taken over control of the innards, from Constipation Konrad was blocking movements, and I had to dose myself with capsules.
Well, two days later, and Constipation Konrad was back with a vengeance, and has been ever since. So today, it was Senna, and Macrogol needed to try and counter Konrad. And many gulps of the inutile, ineffective Peptac will be of little use, as it is typically, against the horrors of the Duodenal Donald attacks. The ulcers are getting to me today, they just plod on peppering me with stabbing pains that are worse than on previous occasions! Mind you, maybe Anne Gyna is a part of the problem as well? All I know is, something must be done if they don’t ease-off soon, it’s fogging the brain’s thoughts and intentions. I’ve got enough worries about with Jane and Pete.
During this short spell that I’ve been up and hobbling about, I’ve needed four wee-wees, and am now going for another! Crumbleckskins! At least I’m getting a variety of modes, that one was of the LPT (Long-Persistent-Type).
I got on the computer and found this mystery photo on the right, in the SD card.
It was apparently taken yesterday morning? Perhaps it could be a target for the Tate Gallery, do you think? Haha!
The updating of the Sunday post was a drawn-out affair. I carried on working on it, getting more and more frustrated with my lack of concentration. Notwithstanding the three varied wee-wees taken. Weeeee! Got the link emailed, and posted the diary off to WordPress. Did some Facebooking, then onto the WordPress Reader, some great stuff on today.
When I around to consulting the notepad to start today’s diary going, I came across what looked to me like; Por or Par, 86 or 81 (10.15), written, or rather scribbled. I wonder what the heck it means. It’s really irking me, it must mean something or I wouldn’t have written it, surely? Grumph!
I’m getting tired now, not surprisingly, with getting no sleep at all last night.
I tried to make a Morrison online order for later in the week, but no slots were available. So I had to use the Sainsburys service. This may cost me more, well, it will, and the risk of short-dated items is almost as bad as Morrisons are. Phlump! Still, I hope to get some canned Chill-Con-Carne from them, as advised by Tim Price in New Mexico, as an Anti-Constipation Colin! Hehe! (I’m not going to get too hopeful though, most stores seem to be running out of stuff lately. Panic buying, I suppose. I’ve an Iceland order coming in the morning. I hope they have the ready-made Gino D’Acampo Cannelloni Ragù meals in stock, I really enjoyed that!
My super G5 modern mobile phone rang out, well, it might not be that new, Ahem!
It was Pete, my Brother-in-Law. I was overcome with joy when I asked about Jane, and Pete said she was at the side of him and was okay.
I shed a few silent tears of happiness.
He explained what had happened yesterday with Jane; They rang the NHS 111 number and told them of the Cluster-Headaches the gal was suffering with, and her losing the sight of her left eye (I think it was the left one). They were advised to go to the QMC hospital straight away, and this they did.
The Bratton’s duly arrived at about 15:00hrs – and got seen at 22:15hrs. Blimus!
A rarity said Pete: But they let him go into the treatment room with Jane, which I thought was brilliant. We chatted, and Jane came on the line, and we had a three-way natter of sorts, but much of what we said was not sinking in, My gratification, delight, ecstaticness and euphoria at hearing that Jane was okay, was blocking out some of what we discussed.
I know that Jane has to go back again today to the hospital. I reminded them of the link to the NHS Cluster-Headache pages on the web that I’d emailed them. I think Jane will get some encouragement when she reads the treatments listed that are available to treat the painful problem.
I recall Jane saying the nurse told her what she could expect on today’s visit, anarchy! She told them that Mondays are pandemonium at the QMC (Queens Medical Centre). I hope she can get seen sooner rather than later. ♥
After ringing off, I was over the moon, never been so contented for years. I was making notes on the pad to use here later, and the landline burst into life.
It was my heroin, Jenny ♥. Explaining that Asda delivery drivers do not come into the flats. So she has been going down to fetch the stuff for various elderly and disabled tenants and asked if I had wheeler, they could use. I got the spare three-wheeler out of the balcony and shuffled it somehow to the front door. Where Jenny appeared in a few minutes – but it was no use to her, the bag wasn’t big enough. The poor gal came all the way up to.
Herbert was model-making again. Tap-Tap-Clunk-Tap. Hehehe! But it didn’t bother me today, with my finding out that Jane was alright.
I had a look at the latest Nottingham and regional Coronavirus figures. A little concerning, I’m afraid.
The intercom rang, and flashed. It was the Amazon delivery of shoes arriving. I didn’t see the delivery person at all, but they left the box outside of the front door for me.
I got the box inside and on the flat airer.
Opened the container, and had a look at the footwear contained therein.
Crap, but I only expected them to be at the silly-cheap price they were asking for them. They were the same price as the Shoe Zone.
I then took my ninth wee-wee of the day. Hogglebogwash! They are now coming out as SWOP (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Painless) modes.
I got on with doing some more waste bags up. The cardboard from the Amazon deliveries was flattened and got in with the other waste. As you can see, there are rather a lot of them now. Hehehe! I’ll have to make an effort and get them to the waste room I suppose, it may take more than one journey, methinks.
Hello, the Dusty Springfield tune, ♫I only want to be with you♫ has burst forth from the front door. I bet it’s Josie returning the dinner things from yesterday. It was, bless her. She told me that she enjoyed the brown potatoes, which cheered me up a little further! I got the Nikon camera on the charge, and I have to say, struggled to get the bags to the waste room. A bit of a balancing act with the trolley full to overflowing.
I got the Tower of Pisa-like imitation ( Piazza del Duomo, 56126 Pisa PI, Italy) like three-wheeled trolley through the front door, and by then had three bags of refuse dislodged and down onto the floor. Tsk!
Retrieved them and restacked them on the trolley, and went the few feet to the lobby door and out into the lift area. More black and white bags escaped and had to be retrieved, not without a degree of, well, silently muttered naughty curse words had been used and got to the waste room door.
I got the trolley and contents into the chute area, and thought as I took this photograph, ‘This is going to be another on that the Tate Gallery miss, and lose out on’. Hehehe! On the very first bag to be deposited down the shaft, I caught the edge of the iron grating chute, and now have a reasonable sized new bruise to show off.
Backing the trolley out of the room after unloading the bags down the shaft, I accrued another injury on my left buttock, as I walked into the door frame with a jolt. That’d be because I’m a dolt!
With a newly acquired style of limp, thanks to my bum-banging-blimp, I made my way back to my apartmentette and got the dinner prepared and served up ready for consuming.
A ‘reet-treat’. Taste-Rating 7/10, got the pots and me cleaned up, and stripped and settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner. I wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm, snug as a bug, and so contented and smiling inwardly, at the good news about Sister Jane! Then…
Then as I went to turn on the TV, I realised I had not turned the set’s power on yet. Grumbleklunk!
The quilt was taken off, I dismounted the warmth of the c1968 chair, and hobbled over to turn on the power socket. Accruing a stubbed toe en route on the Ottoman! Whincingtime!
Wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm again in the recliner…
Then I realised that the TV remote control had dropped between the chairs as I got up to put the plug into the TV! (I’d taken it out earlier, to use the socket, for the camera charger). Argh!
I tried to retrieve the remote with the long picker-upperer – but only succeeded in moving it out of sight, under the recliner!
I was just-short of suicidal feelings; only dejected depressed, despondent, and disconsolate, dispirited, downcast, dismayed, and down-in-the-dumps with my sudden return to a world of Whoopsiedangleploppery! Not really, but I was irritated a smidge! Hahaha!
The quilt was taken off, I dismounted the warmth of the rickety recliner again, and got down on all fours, got the torch (handily kept on the recliner at all times when not in use), located the remote, and with the long picker-upperer, managed to slide it out from the furniture, then toward myself, and at last, reclaimed it. I put it in the Ottoman with the torch, and then planned to get back on my feet… somehow!
I did eventually get back up, via the Ottoman.
Falling off of the Ottoman (more bruises on the thigh), and banging the left foot. Then tried clinging onto the recliner…
But the cushion slipped off as I grabbed the chair, and ended up back on the floor where I started. I moved the cushion out of the way and tried again…
Next try, I utilised the swivel chair and Recliner as leverage, and success! I was back upright…
I knocked off the bottle of Springwater when I turned to get the quilt back on the chair…
I distinctly remember as I sat down to try and settle again, knocking the spectacles off of the recliner, Argh! But they were the old pair that I keep nearby if needed during the night, and I just left them there, as I’d got varifocals on anyway, to watch the Frost TV programme that I wanted to see.
I got back resettled, yer again, in the c1968 recliner, and wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm, and…
Naturally, just as the heart started to calm down, I needed a wee-wee! Flagtoggles! Gragnangles! Granglesbognessbuggerit!
I got up, all the rigmarole, and farting about had to be gone through again. Got to the bucket and the darned mode of wee-wee was of the FFFONEC (Forceful-Furious-Fast-Orange-Never-Ending-Cloudy) variety. I had to endure one of the longest PMADs (Post-Micturition After Dribbles) ever! Humph!
Getting silly this is! I wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm again in the recliner (Deja vu?). Oy-oy-oy!
Got the TV turned on and had a swig of the spring water/orange cordial. Then, I turned the TV to channel ten and realised the two-hour episode of Frost, had only fifteen minutes left to run, so there was no point in watching really now! Tsk!
However, I can report that all these Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpas and botherations; that usually would have got me all hot-under-collar (Not easy when you’ve not got any clothes on, Hehehe!) Honestly, they merely irked me a tad – and I can thank Jane for that, learning of her being okay, and chinwagging with her and Pete for a few moments, got me through this injury-ridden load of frustrations, and I felt in good form, with a definite sensation on contentedness!
I switched the TV to Radio three, and found some jazz music to listen to, and settled down. The Thought-Storms, were for the first time ever, unprecedentedly, idiosyncratic, enriching and pleasingly palatable.
I nodded of and woke an hour or so later, to hear the end of Nina Simone’s 1958, ‘My Baby Just Cares for Me!’ through the headphones. (Very memory prompting!) The quilt had come off of my feet, and the left one was stinging a bit, and seemed, well it was, swollen? Presumably, this happened when the limb collided with the corner of the Ottoman. Ay-yay-yay!
Sweep Morpheous soon returned, as my mind happily mused over Sister Jane feeling better. I just had to put this picture of Jane (left) Me, and Christine Wright. We were young, frisky and having fun in our back yard. It was taken a few years ago… Hahaha!
Notice Inchcock had hair in those days? What we were doing with the hose pipe, well, maybe Janet will see this and remember, then she can tell me. Over to you, Jane and Chrissie!
I removed the headphones, passed wind, and drifted blissfully, smiling inside, off into the wonderful land of Nod!
01:50hrs: Woke, and I removed my elephantine body from the c1968 recliner, and toddled dodgily for a wee-wee. Crapola! The finger’s knuckle PIPs (Proximal interphalangeal joints), were agony, and I failed to get Little Inchy out in time! Then the inopinate MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) added to the embarrassment. Also, the style of wee-weeing was a bladder-shuddering PSL (Powerful-Spraying-Short-Lived) release, which meant I had to spend ages washing, cleaning and disinfecting. ‘What a start to the day’ I thought! And it wasn’t half cold in the flat this morning! Brunglebogs, Brrr! 
I got the sphygmomanometer and the thermometer out of the medical drawer and did the checks. 
: Well, getting the trousers on was not easy either. Just as I was stood on the right leg, and lifted the left to get into the trews, Perfect timing Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances! I managed to use the wall, then the recliner as support to prevent me going over, but still don’t know how I managed to stay on my plates, as I wobbling-away. And the jerking remained for a longer time than it has ever before, and this started SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off as well! 
I pulled up the trews, and fastened them, and guess what I found in the left-hand pocket? Go on, have a guess! Only the Nikon lens cover! While feeling a right nincompoop, I was over-the-moon with this discovery! Yee-Ha! 
Now, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, no messing about from me, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. All the signs, twinges and indications were that this was going to be a painful, heavy, marathon, session! So, I settled and got the crossword book out.
Another TWWAMD wee-wee, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, and started to put together and doctor the Mansfield Road History photographs, ready to create the next blog with. 
I risked a Chilli-Con-Carne, with curried beans, tasted it in the saucepan, too hot for me, so I added a sachet of black bean sauce, it might calm it down a little. Did some Southern flavoured fries to go with it. Not bad at all, ate some bread thins to soak up the liquids. Taste-Rating: 7/10, a smidge hot to my liking, but I ate the lot of it! 
02:35hrs: After some confusing fretting and pondering over my rare unwillingness to wake-up, my uhtceare cleared as I reached an unwilling, point of threshold consciousness, with a lack of confidence. Reticence and indisposedness towards even getting up had to be fought against. Then the quotidian need of a wee-wee made my mind up for me.
I had no choice, but to (apathetically) battle my bulbous-body out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, and get to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). At this stage, I was not fully alert or aware. By the time I’d got the long shoe horn and got the slippers on, I’d hobbled by the bucket and was in the wet room before I realised it. 
A wee-wee of the RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) mode was taken. As I was hutching up the PP’s, a dose of AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling) flowed of its own accord. So, a washing up and change of PP’s was called for. I seemed to be doing everything in a foggy-haze? 
I gathered the bucket to the kitchenette to clean. I took the medications first this morning, including an extra Codeine 60g with the morning medications, to counter SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), who had been activated by my shoulder-charge against the wet room door. Hahaha! 
I was feeling a tad more chirpy and awake now. I hadn’t the foggiest idea why, mind.
I got some baby new potatoes in the crock-pot, flavoured with just some of the gorgeously tasty Squid vinegar, got the mushrooms draining, and made myself a brew of, perhaps my third-favourite tea, Glengettie Gold. Bootiful!
more minutes, but nothing happened. out. Yet, I felt like I had passed? 
The Morrison delivery arrived. The chap put the carrier bags in the hallway for me, I handed him a G&T by way of thanks, and off he trotted. 
I opened the first few carriers onto the server trolley. A grand selection of fodder laid there for my delectation. Baby new potatoes, Surami sticks, and Cox’s apples. A red onion, tomatoes, Two bottles of Squid vinegar/sauce. Oh, and a Breath-Easy spray (I shan’t be eating that one. Haha), and black grapes. 
Got them away, and opened some more carriers. Another server of extravagant delicacies for my palate. Fresh unhomogenised full milk (You can’t beat it with Thompsons Punjana, Glengettie, Strong Assam, or Gengettie Gold tea!), Marmite cheese discs, Milk Roll bread, sliced white rolls, lemon mousse, Irish Potatoe Farls, G&Ts, and iced suckers. 
I got the good in the fridge and freezer, and tinned peas in the cupboard. It all went smoothly, no dropsies, knock anything other or walking into owt! Even the right ankle and foot was looking better! Smug-Mode-Assumed! 
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, using the new unhomogenised whole milk, of course (Yummy!) And while the tea mashed, I took this photograph, a close-up, of the houses opposite the flats. They look pretty from up here, don’t you think?
I gave it while, in the hopes that it might come back on its own, and went out on the balcony, and took another zoomed-in shot, of the circus tent over in Woodthorpe Grange Park. I’ll put this in the Winwood Heights Facebook page later. 
Jenny called me on the landline, bless her cotton socks. She had some more yellow tomatoes for me and some home-grown onions. She even delivered them to outside the door for me. Thanks, Jenny, you’re an Angel! ♥ I’m looking forward the using some of these on the meal tonight!
There have been more Coronavirus cases over the past 24 hours with 40 new confirmed positive results across Nottinghamshire, according to the latest Government data. A total of 17 new cases were reported in 
I’m having difficulty in understanding all this palava. To me, this is serious, but people on the news, and some here in the flats, say it’s all a con? Surely nearly 100 new cases can’t be a con? Or can it? 
I’ll get the waste bags sorted and taken away, then see what’s what with the internet and get some nosh made methinks. 
I got back to the flat and did some meal prepping. Some of the Morrisons mini toms and Jenny’s yellow ones were sliced, and sea salted. One of the onions was trimmed and cut, I had a nibble while doing this, by gum, they had an excellent tasty tang to them! 
I got it at all served up, on the tray, and settled to feast away, Hey-hey! 
Scribbled the date on the pad, and got down in the recliner. Thankfully, it didn’t take me too long to get back to Sweet Morpheous. 
As I fought me way out of the chair, they rang again. Getting my balance and some clothes on, once again the bells chirped their tune, on my way to the door, they rang for the fourth time… is this an emergency I thought? 
00:30hrs: I woke up, wanting a wee-wee, as has been the case for the last four or five mornings. But no sleep interrupting needs, which I’m thankful for. 
Unfortunately, it was another one of the vicious HLSBS (Hosepipe-Like-Short-Blasting-Splashback) types, that required a good deal of cleaning up, a wash and change of PP’s. The urinary incontinence MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) followed. And off to the kitchenette, I wobbled
I got the kettle filled and turned on and attempted to get a decent photograph of the morning view. I used the Nikon camera and put it in Night-Landscape mode. Held the camera against the thick window frame, and tried to hold it with the left hand and use the right one to press the shoot button. No good! 
The BP Sys sphygmomanometerisationing showed that it had tumbled down to only 135! I can’t work out why it keeps going up and up, then drops back up again? The cause may be, I suppose, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Woodthorpe Court 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, a
nd scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ Hahaha! 
I got some potatoes in the crock-pot, and added water and Squid vinegar, and made a brew of Glengettie tea. 
I remembered then, the two wee-wees needed recording on the NHS record log. 
The innards are still churning a mite. SSS has calmed down. But now it’s the new spectacles that are bothering me, they keep slipping off of my nose! Tsk! 
The ablutions next, and a damned fine job of doing them too! Naturally, there were a few dropsies here and there, but no toe stubbings, no knocks or walking into anything, no dizzies, and the showerhead stayed where it was, or I meant it to go! 
Haha! I’d better top up the bowel ad bladder visits-list for the hospital. 
I got Josie’s lunch prepared and delivered it to her, dead on midday as usual. Ooh, I am good! Hahaha!
So, off went the computer, and I poddled about getting my meal sorted and served. There didn’t seem anything wrong with it, I’m sure I should have enjoyed it more. 
Washed the pots, then myself, took the medications and got down in search of sleep. But it wasn’t about to come soon. The Thought-Storms were persistent. 
04:10hrs: Well, what a waking up it was this merry morning! I was in a depressive state of clinomania, on a right-downer. Sensing that this phenomenon was due to a dream I’d been having, but not certain. The Thought-Storms began, and this only confused me more than ever. By the time I’d jumped to another worry, I’d forgotten the previous fear or concern that I had been battling with… a soupçon of sadness, too – but what at? Blurblecrubs!
I got there before the main show, and after the pathetic tinkling wee-wee, I washed and had to divert from putting on the new PP’s, and get sat down for a Porcelain Throne session. But things were as solid as a rock, the movement nudged and stuck, but the pain continued, yet again. Lucky Sod Me!
I was sat sitting there on the Throne for about fifteen minutes. Just too painful for me to try and rush things along, so I got the crossword book out. Do you know, I got more answers in that sat-there time than I have for weeks! Amidst the agony of each innards-controlled edging things along, I found myself singing ♫ ‘Bring me sunshine, in your smile, Bring me laughter, all the while, In this world where we live, There should be more happiness, So much joy you can give, To each brand new bright tomorrow ♫ (Can’t remember any other words, Hehe!) 
The last long agonising evacuation was even more painful, but that did not stop me singing to myself, and even trying to whistle while I washed, medicated the rear end, and got new PPs on. 
I limped rather steadily to the kitchenette, and put the kettle on and then got the stick thermometer to take my temperature with. Using the Kodak camera. I did the usual and took a photo of the reading. 
Stand-Up Wash: Pretty good, and I think that the old ankle ulcer, is getting paler again, but still spreading out as if it wants Lebensraum! Haha” Not pleased with this new camera! Of course, it will most likely be something I’m doing wrong, Humph! 
Reflux Roger in making me a little uncomfortable. Criggleblogsworthisms!
All looked good, and I made my way to the door again. I found another hand-delivered letter reminding us all on the 12th, and 13th floors, that the screeding (Screeding a floor is a simple act of applying a well-blended mixture of Ordinary Portland Cement with graded aggregates and water to a floor base, in order to form a sturdy sub-floor that is capable of taking on the final floor finish or act as a final wearing surface) was being done on Tuesday next, the 15th September. 
I got to the waste chute room and deposited the small black bags down the shaft, problem-free. (Smug-Mode-Adopted) Got the lift down to the ground floor, and had the pleasure of having a little mini-chinwag with Frank and Doris. 
Then out and put the big bag near the bin. By gum, it was windy out there, not cold with it, mind you. I limped with the trolley-guide along Chestnut Walk to the Winnwood Court main entrance and made my way inside. Said my hellos to Wardens Julie and the new gal. (I think Deana is on 
holiday)
As I opened the door to manipulate the trolley guide in, and yet another Hand-posted letter had been delivered. This one was about giving each tenant a chance to vote for one of three flooring options that we fancy A B or C. Box to post back, in the ground floor lobby.
odd tap-tapping, while I updated this blog. 
I had been referred to them by Caroline of the falls team. After a lot of her trying to find me a place that is open at the moment, the Sherwood one is still closed, and her efforts found me an appointment for me to have a bladder and bowel scan done. The only place available was St Anne’s Health Centre, and she got me an appointment for 10:15hrs, on October 15th. (I think). She will send me a letter, with a lengthy questionnaire (she warned me) in it, for me to fill in, and a leaflet about the procedures I’m to go through. Gulp! 
Back sorting out the meal again. For once, I remembered to take the before-eating medications, leaving the after-meals ones for later. I’ve not done this for ages, I must make more effort on this in future!
01:55hrs: I woke with stomach-ache and started sneezing. Then the need of a wee-wee arose, so I struggled up and out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured recliner, and utilised the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). For another RSS (Reluctant-Slow-Sprinkly) release. 
To the kitchen, cleaned the bucket, and I took a snap of the morning’s view from the thick-framed, light and view-blocking window. 
Back to the kitchenette, and got the gear out of the medical drawer, and started the Health Checks with the stick thermometer. Blimus, the temperature has shot up this morning, to 36.7°c, the highest it’s been for many months. 
The sphygmomanometerisationing results were much betterer, though. The SYS had tumbled down to 139, an unexpected improvement there then. Took the meds.
A decent session overall, with no walking into or banging against any door frames, cupboards or even the sock-glide. While I was coming out. Toe-Stubbings avoided! The ankle ulcer was clearing up, but spreading out a smidge? 
I got the hand-washing seen to next. 
I sorted out the small black waste bags, and big white recycling one and was about to get them onto the three-wheeled walker, and a third mad rush to the Porcelain Throne was needed.
I washed and medicated things in need, and got the bags loaded on the walker. 
I risked making a mug of Glengettie, as the tummy was more settled now. Then decided to have Glengettie Gold instead, as it is a milder flavour, just in case the innards kicked-off again. But they didn’t get any worse as and after I drank it. 
Working on this computer for a while, and I heard a voice ring out from the hallway. I recognise it straight away, it was the beautiful, highly desirous, charming, kind, sweet, caring, empathetic, loin-moving, beneficent, appealing, heartwarming Nurse, Hristina, came to do my blood test. 
Limped onto the balcony, and saw the puffer clouds, I think that’s what they are called, with the terraces of the flats silhouetted, and returned to get the Nikon to take a shot of the beautiful view. 
The Morrison delivery is due shortly. I got the meal ready and served, to eat cold after the shopping has arrived. A simple snack, for a simpleton to savour, Hehehe! 
I got the bags into the kitchenette, but I did walk into the door frame taking the last bag through the hallway. The right shoulder, as is normal, bore the brunt, and it made me grunt! Hehe! I sorted the bags out one by one. I put the treats for Jenny away. ♥
In the next bag, a rare mixture again, bananas, fresh pod peas, tarts, and two bottles of washing-up liquid. 
The fresh-food carriers had some delightful looking items in them. T
I waited a couple of minutes in case he did. He didn’t, thankfully. 
04:00hrs: I woke up, to the well-established, wee-wee wanting, and wrestled my whale-like body from the not working, uncomfortable, second-hand, £300, c1968, rickety, rusting, sickenly beige-coloured, recliner. I caught my balance and made for the wet room. For some reason, I’d not got the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) in situ? 
The pathetic wee-wee of sorts was back to an RSHH (Reluctant-Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) effort, with an extraordinarily long AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling) that took far too long, to my thinking. No early call to the Porcelain Throne, though just like yesterday?
usual tummy pains that I get just before any evacuation. So I felt confident enough to carry on with the Health Checks, but not overly so. With virtual crossed-fingers! 
fair one, methinks? Not so the Health Checks on the BP sphygmomanometer, see the SYS? Crikey, that’s high! I wondered maybe the excitement of yesterdays escape from the lock-down to town had some effect on it? I was undoubtedly in a more comfortable frame of mind this morning. Mmm?
I washed and got some potatoes in the crock-pot, with a drop of the Squid brand fine fish sauce vinegar added. No need for salt, because the sauce has Anchovies in it. Bootiful! 
I went to get the ablutions done. A standing up at the sink session today, the Iceland order was coming soon. Still, it went fairly well for once! A few dropsies, one tiny-weeny nick shaving, nowt knocked over, and even the medicationing went well! Superb!
I had another look out of the window, and down to Chestnut Walk. Aha, a red car parking naughtily! Or maybe not, he or she might just be turning around. Did you see that? I’m not jumping to conclusions! Temporary- Smug-Mode-Adopted! 
I made brew of Glengettie, and took it with me to the computer, to make a start on this blog. 
decided to get the washing done. A long job and SSS made me spill a fair drop of water as I wrang out the clothes after washing. Granglespithowlations! 
Not that this has anything at all whatsoever to do with my fear of using the harrowing, Accifauxpa guaranteed, blood-producing, metal, sock-glide of course! Ahem! 
The Iceland chap arrived with the food order. Friendly bloke he was, dropped the stuff through the door for me. Thanked him and slipped him a can of G & T, and got the things through to the kitchenette. They had substituted mini apple pies with apple and blackberry ones. (Not for me, I don’t like blackberries). And had not got any muffins in stock. 
Got the nosh prepared and served up. Horrible is the best word to describe this culinary catastrophe! 
I left most of it, apart from the spuds, that is. A wise move, I think. 
To the main room, and took another picture with the Nikon, through the balcony windows. 
00:15hrs: I woke with some lingering memories of dreams I’d been having, and fumbled to get the notepad and pen, to write down what I could recall of them. But by the time I’d dropped the pad, and got myself sorted out ready to scribble, the memory box had lost everything about the dream! 
I poddled to the kitchenette, and the view through the hanging washing covered, new light & view-blocking windows, revealed the moon in miniature again. So I got the Kodak PixPro AZ 651 bridge-camera, (sounds all posh dunnit?) and took a shot in the Aperture-Priority mode. Not too bad! 
At the most inopportune moment, just as I was pouring the tea, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) gave me a good shaking, and I dropped knocked the mug over! Boiling water and hot tea went all over the counter, down the cupboard doors onto the floor. I thought how lucky I had been in not getting injured or scolded, and in the midst of cleaning up the mess, a sneaky Smug-Mode began coming on, but not for long!
Aha! The call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and off to the wet room. 
I went on the balcony to take some shots of the morning as it brightened up somewhat. 
treatment. I’ll ring him in the morning to see how it went. 
The mood in town was one of depression, that’s the only word to use. I have never seen Nottinghamians so dispirited in my life! 
I got off of the bus, called in Poundland, and came out after spending just £12.50, and limped to Milton Street, going in the Bargain Shop. I only spent £5.77 in there, so many things not available, but I did get the black washing liquid, still on a bargain price with a few other items, that were not essential. 
A photographing hobble around down the depressing Clinton Street, right along Long Row, and up Queen Street to the bus stop home. 
I got off of the bus without any bother. Alright! I caught my right knee on the trolley as it did its own thing lowering it to the pavement. It set Arthur Itis off for the rest of the day. Humph! Not that it mattered much, I was not going anywhere or doing anything productive much in the state I was in, Shackumed! 
I say do nothing, I did make a large meal, and ate nearly all of it. 
03:30hrs: I came to my limited warped senses, with only one aim, that was to get to the Porcelain Throne, pronto! I extracted my wobbly, overly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety 
The painful motion began of its own accord, the grindingly slow, pleonastic event went on and on… Argh! After what felt like an hour or so, (but was only a few minutes), the final push I had to make to encourage things along, was agony, but necessary. A few seconds to recover, and I stood up gingerly and found that much blood had flowed, in amongst the pebble-like evacuated product. And paradoxically, during the mass evacuation, I took no less than three wee-wees! But worse of all, some of the pebbles were on the floor around where I stood! So all my best efforts to avoid this happening came to nothing!
Of course, I wasn’t bothered at all. I took it nonchalantly and in my stride. Pain means nothing to me, Ahem! However, the embarrassment flowed thickly! 
peculiarly, with no pre or after Micturition dribbling. Not a good start to the day, but my EQ insisted things will improve, that’ll do me if he’s right! 
sphygmomanometer from the third-down medical drawer. 
As I got up to go for yet another SSP wee-wee. Coming back, I spotted the card posted Thursday, had dropped between the chairs. I got the long picker-upperer and retrieved, and opened it. It was from Warden Deana, bless her. 
I got the blog sent off to WordPress, Pinterested some photos from it, and made a start on this post. 
Took the tea, and returned to Computer Cameron, but not for long, Toothache Terence was starting his searing with pain again, so back to the kitchen for an extra Codeine. 
When it came to putting on the fresh PP’s, I lost my balance a smidge, I didn’t go over though. Instead, I put my hand out on the floor cabinet to stop myself toppling. Thus clearing just about everything you can see in this photograph! Grobbleknangles!
off to the kitchen. The morning was breaking, at last. 
Set the heat on the crockpot, and put some mushrooms in the saucepan, with some sea salt and balsamic vinegar. 
The wee-weeing is still coming at a steady rate of knots, about eleven or more so far, I reckon. 
get these articles found, that does not look too good.
I had a look at the leeks, mushrooms, and new potatoes cooking progress. Coming along nicely. Then I went on to create a funny ode on WordPress. Well, that was the plan… but the Prescriptions arrived, Deepak himself delivered them, bless his cotton socks. I thanked him and gave him a bag of goodies for the staff.
I turned off the computer and placed the medicinal items in the kitchen, and got on with making the meal
03:00hrs: Woke, wrestled out of the c1968 recliner, and I limped with Metal-Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) to the wet room for a wee-wee. Which was of the WTOP (Weak-Trickling-Orange-Painful) variety. Still, these ‘Guess What It Will be Like’, ever-varying wee-wees give me something to look forward to in a morning. Hehehe!
The ankle ulcer was looking to me as if the vesication was on the verge of clearing up! All the matter had cleared, leaving just a few, on the surface itchy spots showing. Artistically designed mind. It can’t be a bad sign, this.
As I made my way into the kitchen, it dawned on me how easily I’d been getting around, and, not walked into or bumped into any doors or whatever! (A genuine first time in months event!) I’d even taken the wee-wee, without any signs of wobbling, balance-loss, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or Dizzy Dennis bothering me. 
which seemed good enough to me. And, taking the medications, I didn’t drop a single tablet or capsule, and failed to spill or drop the Peptac bottle! Oh, yes! Still, I resisted going into a Smug-Mode!
at me! The clanging from above didn’t help. 
There I was, thinking how well I was doing under the circumstances… and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had my hand all over the place – and I ended up with the Catagories and Tags, disappeared from the editor, on WordPress! Oy, oy, oy! Sick to the teeth with ailments causing problems for me, every single day!
I used the setting button at the top of the editor, removed the selected he ticks, but failure, being my password and nickname, nothing happened. I did an email to Mr Price, asking for advice on the subject. 
f into again! I’m more behind now than usual and feeling rather low in spirits, morose, depressed, and more tenebrific with things. Gragnackles! Grrr! I took a picture through the rain-letting in, balcony, the one with the finger trapping metal release clips, and that 
need pushing and pulling at the same time to open or close the side windows. And the thick frames that rattle and spoil the view.
But of course, I’m not bothered in the slightest! Off to the wet room, I poddled, taking my frustrations with me. A tap-tapping from Herbert above accompanied me. 
The shaving was again bloody. Hehehe! Three tiny nicks, both earholes and under the chin. 
I put the kettle on to make a brew to replace the one that had gone cold. And opened the window to take some shots of the scenery, and nearly got myself blown backwards into the kitchen! Good Heavens! I’ve not got a shirt on either! Hahaha!
I had to laugh. I spotted some clothes on a washing line straight ahead of me. And zoomed in to get a shot of the shirts, I think they were, blowing every which way in the high winds, thinking it would be a great shot. Both of the shirts were whisked away by the gale, high in the sky, and had gone out of 
view within seconds! If I’d had a movie camera, it would have been impressive. 
This is the result of my first ‘Eat-Less’ effort meal. Cunningly put on a big tray and spread out, so it looked more significant, no peas, no potatoes, no chips or fries, low-calorie dessert, thin milk roll bread, thinly… I say thinly spread with butter, fish meal! It went down well, a score for the flavour of 7/10!