: 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 collected the Nikon and took it with me to the kitchen, and noticed that the lens cap was not on it. (Nothing unusual in that, I often misplace it and have troubles finding it again!) But today’s search around proved a total failure and cost me so much time again. I looked around near where I expected to find it first, near the computer, but no.
Then I went into the wet-room, not there either. To the kitchen, and ferreted through the drawers, window ledge, and scouted around the cupboards and containers, all without any luck. I then basically, carried another search of the same areas. I was getting rather cold, but my desire to find the lens cap drove me on probing everywhere, against no success. I got down on all fours looking under the furniture, and by the time I’d struggled to get back on my plates, I decided to make a brew of tea, and try to think backwards of the last photo I’d taken. Aha, a semi-brainwave arrived; I’ll look on the SD card to see where I was when I took the last photograph! tried
Turned on the Nikon, and got the ‘No Card in this Camera’ message. Argh! But I wasn’t too bothered, the SD is bound to be in the card reader inside the computer… But no, it wasn’t! Now the worrying started. After yet another hunt around, I got out an old well-used card to use, stupidly thinking the last picture would show up, of course, it didn’t!
Now, seriously questioning my sanity, I returned the card to the drawer, and guess what I saw? Yes, the SD card I was searching for, sat there almost looking back at me, on top of the landline phone! I stopped for a moment to digest just how bonkers I was going. Then had another scavenge about, looking for the lens cap. No luck!
So, back to the kitchen, to get the Health Checks done, (All the time, I was checking here and there and keeping my eye out for the precious lens cap, as I did the checks). I was becoming fixated about it!
I got the sphygmomanometer and the thermometer out of the medical drawer and did the checks.
The SYS was still too high, but al least it had come down a midge.
The stick-thermometer showed a reading of only34.1° or 31.7°c. I think it might be the higher one, I couldn’t remember what it came out as. Not surprisingly, with the state of my mind after such a hectic bout of Whoopsiedangleplops to start the day. Gangleboggleisations!
I took the morning medications, made a brew, and the cold ran through mt body, making me shiver a bit. So I took the brew of Glengettie Gold with me, and I headed to get some clothes on and get a bit warmer.
: 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’m not sure how much more of this I can take. Even the innards started stabbing at me, then! Grindingagonydamit!
I got sat down in the swivel chair and drank the now tepid tea. Tried to relax a little, calm me down. The general shakes started then. Vision blurred, and a bit of a panic-fretting station was brewing. Enough!
After a little Thought-Storming, I felt much better. Not exactly panurgic, but ready to press on, and try again to get the trousers on, nervously. The jerking hadn’t fully stopped, but I coped better this time and kept upright. A smug-mode helped me regain some concentration…
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!
I was in a much calmer frame of mind now. And got on with updating the Friday blog, with a certain gusto, determination, and SSS knocking the hell out of me! Agonydangles! As I grafted away, the dreaded Hum started, it was so annoyingly loud! I got the updating finished, posted it off to WordPress, emailed the link. went on the Facebook updating, then the WordPress Reader.
I came across some old photos of Mansfield Road and saved them to file, for doctoring into a separate blog, cause they are great, memory, and thought – I’ll create a blog later with them, time permitting.
Throughout the morning, I’ve had to take several, well, many, wee-wees, the surprising thing is, they were all of the TWWAMD (Trickling-Weak-With-After-Micturition-Dribbling) mode! But a little patience (which I didn’t have earlier) I had no messes or leakages to sort out. Smug-Mode-Defcon-3 adopted. Hehehe!
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.
Within a minute or so, the whole evacuation was over and done with! Did it hurt? It always does, positive agony many times sometimes. However, today’s deposit left in the porcelain china bowl, was the least painful and the quickest for many a month! Is my bad-luck fading? Oh, I do hope so! Hahaha!
Hello, I think Herbert’s gone shopping, the noise has stopped.
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.
Herberts back, tap-tap, clunk, bang!
Phew! Got the Mansfield Road post done at last. Link: Sherwood Memories
I must get a graphic done for the diary headers, so back to CorelDraw to do another couple, at least. Well, I finished one.
Now, will the prescriptions be arriving? They are due today, but nothing yet. Got the nosh sorted and served up.
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!
Got the pots washed, and tried my best to stay awake in case the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, were going to deliver on time for once. The silly ideas I get! They didn’t arrive. And I drifted off to sleep.
20:05hrs, the time is the first thing I looked at when the noise woke me up. Herbert, I think doing his model train building, certainly coming from above, but it might be water pipes or anything. Still, its better than at midnight as yesterday.
No problem dropping off again for once, boy, was I tired!
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?
But luckily, I misjudged the distance on my right-hand side again and clouted my shoulder against the door frame. This brought me into a more awareness mode, and muttering a couple of curse words under my breath!
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 got the kettle on, and the machines out of the medical drawer, and fetched the Kodak, determined to get used to this camera’s workings, although my belief and confidence told me that I wouldn’t. (I didn’t either!) I took three shots of the morning view, all in different modes, Aperture Priority, Night Panorama and Auto. As you can see on the right here, this was not a success at all! So, back and swapped the Kodak for the Nikon.
Catastrophically, the Boot’s made in India sphygmomanometer’s SYS reading had shot back up again to 163 this time! Tsk!
The other two, DIA and the pulse seemed alright, or not so far wrong.
I was feeling a tad more chirpy and awake now. I hadn’t the foggiest idea why, mind.
The Boot’s made in China stick thermometer showed a reading of 34.3°c. Perhaps a tad low, but higher than it has been over the last week or so.
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!
I was summoned back to the Porcelain Throne, all the signs and messages told me it was going to be a big one, although the lower tummy-pangs felt different! I was not overly concerned when nothing moved. After all, these motions have been controlled by the innards for weeks now. I got out the crossword book and spent a while getting few answers in, in fact, I was doing so well, it was a long time, maybe twenty minutes, before I realised that no movements had flowed, got stuck, and started again, as they usually do? Then, wind like never before shot out, but no matter. I still gave it a few more minutes, but nothing happened. out. Yet, I felt like I had passed?
I washed and went to update the hospital’s evacuation log. And onto the computer to get yesterday’s dairy updated and done.
It took me 1½ hours to get the post finished. The problems with CorelDraw were still with me, and the paltry couple of photographs I needed cost me so much time! I fear the worst!But I managed to get it completed and posted it off to WordPress. Sent the Email link off, and went on the WordPress Reader section. Did some Facebooking catch-up, next.
Aha, another call to the Throne! Off to the wet room. A mighty movement indeed! Did its usual stopping partway, and when it moved again, it shot out. So painful, and so long! A little bleeding. The product was nobbly with tiny white bits in it? Ah-well! I decided to get the ablutions done while I was in there.
All went wellish. No teeth troubles, only one shaving cut. A few dropsies, as is to be expected. The medicating wasn’t so easy. I caught Fred Furuncle, and a bit of bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold, and amongst the dropsies was the olive oil dropper again.
The plastic lid broke, and I had a slippery ground floor level mess to clean-up. I believe I may have muttered something like, ‘Well, well, still, it can’t be helped! Ahem!
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 got the bags through to the kitchenette read for unloading and had to shoot back to the wet room again.
I felt the dire need for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised again. I haven’t needed more than one for in a day for months, never mind I thought, and wobbled off and got myself seated on the raised metal and disabled assist plastic seat, and again I waited.
And I waited.
And I kept on waiting.
Then waited some more.
Eventually, the feeling, come sensation that I needed to go, gradually disappeared? Not even any wind this time? What’s going on? Tsk!
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?
Then… it happened again!
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!
I got back to the computer, and it was operating again, Phew! Then I had a look at the Your Nottingham email; newsletter. A bit about the danged Coronavirus caught my eye.
Coronavirus Latest via the Emailed Your Nottingham Site:
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 Nottingham city, bringing the total to 1,625. In wider Nottinghamshire, cases increased by 23, bringing the total to 3,921.
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?
Oh, Slobbersodditness! Liberty-Global Virgin Internet is down again, now! Humph!
I’ll get the waste bags sorted and taken away, then see what’s what with the internet and get some nosh made methinks.
Somehow or other, I got the pile of done-up waste and recycling bags on the three-wheeler guide trolley. En route to the chute room, I’d spent more time picking up bags that dropped off of the wheels, than actually walking there. Hehehe!
I deposited the small bags down the shaft, and accident-free as well!
I went to the elevator lobby with the recycling bags, and waited, and waited some more. Eventually, the cage arrived, and Eric from the top floor was in it.
As I entered with his permission, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) gave me a bashing, very embarrassing when I’m with someone. Tsk! But Eric didn’t mention anything, bless him. When we got down, he shot off, can’t blame him. Haha!
I got out to the bins, left the bag, returned inside the main lobby, all without seeing a single soul.
In the lift lobby, two chaps spoke to me, but I couldn’t tell what they were saying, with having to wear the fave-mask, I couldn’t put the hearing aids in. Glumbleclops!
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!
The white bread rolls tasted like cardboard. But everything else went down a treat, a decent taste-rating of 7/10 given.
Washed the pots and got down in the recliner. Put a Dr Who DVD on, but soon fell into the much-needed land-of-nod, which was beautiful! The landline burst forth and flashed. Out of the recliner, and struggled to the phone. It as Caroline from the Falls Team, to inform me that the walking frame will be collected on Friday25th September. She apologised for waking me, but it can’t be helped, bless her. ♥
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.
But… it didn’t last long, the door chimes rang out their Dusty Spring field’s tune, “I only want to be with you!”.
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? It was Josie, waking me up again, for the sixth week on the trot! To return Sundays plate and tray. Oh, dear!
I expected it really, she just can’t seem to remember about my getting my head down early. Hehe! She gave me a packet of Cheese Twists.
Sadly, with so many sleep interruptions, this time it was hard work getting back to kip again. Groggleknockers!
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.
I felt in much better health and perkier than last night now, and the removal of my obstinately, ever-growing more gigantic, flabbergastingly-flabby, flagitiously and over-fat bellied torso from the recliner, seemed so much easier for me, this morning.
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, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ Hahaha!
The stick-thermometer gave a reading of 34.8°c, which is okay for me. As I was putting the things back in the drawer, the ‘Hum’ outside turned louder, and positively to a droning like noise?
I got some potatoes in the crock-pot, and added water and Squid vinegar, and made a brew of Glengettie tea.
Then I had to have another wee-wee. This was of the SWCHH (Sprinkly-Weak-Half-Hearted) style.
I remembered then, the two wee-wees needed recording on the NHS record log.
The throat seemed extremely dry, I was coughing a little, and carminative blasts of wind were escaping from the rear end. Some of them were blasters and relongated rumblers. Mmm?
Got several small black waste bags made up, disinfected and sealed, ready to take to the chute, in a few hours, when it would not disturb my fellow tenants.
I made a start on updating the Saturday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) were not too bothersome at all.
Which is just as well, because Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis were already giving me more than enough discomfort. I took a few swigs of the ineffectual, wishy-washy, impotent Peptac antacid medicine, I’m sure it helped any, and an extra Codeine 60g to counter Arthur Itis’s knee and ankle pain.
During the hours of doing the update, I had two more wee-wee’s, both of the SWCHH (Sprinkly-Weak-Half-Hearted) mode. Then, I sent Email link, read and answered comments, visited the WordPress Reader section, and did some Facebooking catching-up.
Then another wee-wee! This one was a PSL (Powerful-Short-Lived) release. Now the innards are giving me some right jip! I’ve had some bother this week ain’t I?
Got a template made-up. Then moved onto CorelDraw to create some diary-top graphics, I’m right out of them now.
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!
The various departments medicationalisationing was a bit painful, but it was expected to be. Getting the fresh PP’s on afterwards, and did manage to swipe some items off of the floor cabinet. Oh, and I needed two of the reluctant wee-wees while in the wet room – that was convenient! Haha! I’d better top up the bowel ad bladder visits-list for the hospital.
The right foot’s new marks are not spreading or gaining any new bits, fading, and the ankle ulcer is all but gone now!
I reckon all these ailments, add to the colourfulness of my life, you know. My prepubescent, childish giving them names, such as Duodenal Donald, Stuttering Stephany, Reflux Roger, Arthur Itis, Hernia Harry, Haemorrhoid Harold, Back-Pain-Brenda, Saccades-Sandra, Bladder-Cancer-Bob, Kidney Kevin, Peripheral-Neuropathic-Pete, Little-Inchies Fungal Lesion, PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribble and the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), Metal Mickey (Mechanical-Aorta-Valve-Tim), Thrombophlebitis-Thomas, Varicose-Veins-Victor, Dizzy Dennis, Axonotmesis Arnold, Lethologica-Linda, Myasthenia Gravis Mavis, Vasculitis Vanessa, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking-Shaun, and of course, Ankle-Ulcer-Andrew, Bladder-Cancer-Cyril, Chlorhexidine Christine, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Clopidogrel-Clive, Thrombophlebitis, Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing, Axonotmesis, myasthenia gravis, PIP (Proximal Interphalangeal Pain), Stubbed-Toe Stewart, LIFL (Little-Inches-Fungal-Lesion Ian’s-Idiopathic-Polyneuropathy, and Peripheral-Neuropathy-Nigel, Hyperglycaemia-Hyman, Diabetes-Mellitus-Miranda, Diabetic-Dianne, Fulton’s Furunculosis, Phimosis-Plato, Paraphimosis-Patrick, Thrombophlebitis-Fred, Psoriatic Arthritis Paul, Colin-Cramps, Varicose-Veins-Victor, etc., all help to keep me amused. But I’m blown if I can think up a name for new scabs on top of the right foot, might be best to wait until I get the results back from the biopsy next week. And I’ve got the bowel and bladder scans the next day. Then the cardiac reassessment. Oh, and the dentists soon. Still, it keeps me interested and busy. Hehehe!
Hello, I’ve got a nose-bleed now? I’ll go and have a decker, back in a bit…
I got to the wet room, ran the cold water tap, and had a look in the mirror, to see up the nose. (See that, I’ve no fear at all, looking at my face in a magnifying shaving mirror. Hahaha!) Feel a fool now, no idea what caused it, a deep red colour it was too – but after poking some paper towels up and cleaning the right cavity out, it’s not leaking at all now? I suppose it’s all part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court? Had another wee-wee while I was in there, a bit stronger this time, of the SPUTE variety. (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End). Rarely do I pass two of a kind after each other. Got the hands well scrubbed up and sanitised.
I got Josie’s lunch prepared and delivered it to her, dead on midday as usual. Ooh, I am good! Hahaha!
I hung out of the balcony window to the right, to take this snap of the kid’s playground in Woodthorpe Grange Park. Not many Nottinghamians about for a Sunday.
Back to the CorelDrawing.But a massive weariness came on me, and I was no use for doing anything that needed concentration.
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. I think the taste-buds have gone on strike, Hehe! Taste-Rating: 5/10.
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.
Indo-Aryan language is spoken in the Indian state of Odisha. It is the official language in Odisha (formerly known as Orissa) where native speakers make up 82% of the population, also spoken in parts of West Bengal, Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh, and Andhra Pradesh.
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 should be feeling great, after all, I’d had about five hours of sleep and a dream that I think was a nice one. For a minute or two, I was reconnoitring within the brain-box trying to find some understanding, then it dawned on me, ‘It didn’t matter one iota’. I sneezed heavily, and instantly felt the need for an urgent wee-wee! But the brain was still not too interested. But the bladder forced things along. I grumpily, labourously made my way to the wet room, having to increase my hobbling-pace as I felt the ominous PMD Pre-Micturition-Dribble) leaking.
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. In about half an hour or so, I’d gone from miserable to merrily soliloquising, and now, even a little light-hearted? (Worra change!)
I actually had some breakfast this morning! (Oh, Yes! – Smug-Mode-Engaged!) Fair enough, not the healthiest, but still. A pot noodle and a banana to follow!
Then I got the computer on. In between many PWWWs (Pathetically-Weak-Wee-Wees), and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failures, I finally got it finished, many hours later. With no mugs of tea, but many a wee-wee! Hehehe!
As I pondered on whether to make a brew or not, I did fancy a Glengettie, I felt like a tasty treat… Then it dawned on me, I have not taken any medications or done the Health Checks! (I thought I was doing well, Humph!)
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. No, I can’t read it either. Grumph!
Got the medical hemadynamometer, or is it called a sphygmomanometer, I ain’t sure, but anyroad, the results for the Sys was back up high again. Dia and Pulse look to be okayish to me?
Made the first brew of the day, belatedly, mind, and back to the computerisationing. I Pinterested a few snaps, went on the WordPress Reader section, Emailed the link, and answered all of the comments, well, the comment. Poor old devil!
Time to get the ablutions done now. A quick PWWW first.
Then, I launched a little too enthusiastically into doing the teeth. Toothache-Trevor got very annoyed with me and showed his displeasure in the usual way. Argh!
Also dropped the mouth ash bottle, but yet again, it didn’t break!
Nasal Hygiene Spray: Got the dropsies with it this, as it hit the floor, the sprayer at the end of the can, snapped off! I hope to be able to find it when I get around to cleaning the wet room sometime.Tsk!
Shaving: Ah, some good news here, only two razor dropsies, and one wee nick under the chin!
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!
Towelling off: With not having got the shower wet, it was easier to avoid knocking anything over on the floor cabinets!
The Sock-Glide was not fought, or fraught again this morning. No socks on got to wait in for the big-letter landline phone being delivered, by Amazon. Nothing to do with my being, nervous or scared of using it, naturally. Oh, no!
Medicationalisationing: I put some Savlon cream on the ankle ulcer. Germoloid (It’s good stuff, really calming!) on Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I think there is only on furuncle left that is big enough to give me any bother, creamed that as well. Phorpain gelled the knees, wrists and the wear & tear induced Osteoarthritis in the finger knuckles. I even managed to get some Phorpain on the back, cause Back-Pain-Brenda is starting to kick-off again.
Although I didn’t go over when getting the fresh PPs on, it was a close call. Dizzy Dennis to blame.
Of course, I was proud of my sheer guts, abilities, dexterity and bravery in avoiding going over! Mind you, I did hit my shoulder against the door frame, setting off SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley! By the time I got out, SSS and BBB were joined by Reflux Roger in making me a little uncomfortable. Criggleblogsworthisms!
Got dressed (No socks of course), and sorted some black waste bags and a big recycling sack to take down to the bins. Got them on the three-wheeled-walker, and added some treats for Jenny that I forgot to take yesterday.
I nipped back inside, to make a nervous check to ensure I had not left the heater on, lights, stove (apart from the slow cooker), or anything else missed.
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)
Departed and noticed that the tub flowers outside the door on Woodthorpe Court were getting a battering in the wind. No bodies were around as I got inside the lobby. I caught the elevator up to the 9th floor, and put the bag near Jenny’s door, rang her bell, and departed back to the lifts. Up to the 12th floor and back in my apartment. All without seeing a soul on the way back.
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.
Herbert was keeping company with the odd tap-tapping, while I updated this blog.
Getting late now, the weariness is setting in. And the landline phone burst into life ringing and flashing, it made me jump a bit. Hehehe! I answered it, and it was a lady from some NHS medical department, but I didn’t catch the proper name of it.
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!
I updated this diary again for an hour or so, then thought about getting something prepped for eating.
The door-chimes rang out their Dusty Springfield’s tune of ♫ I only want to be with you ♫. I got some clothes on as quickly as I could and meandered swiftly to the front door. It was the Amazon delivery of the new big-button old second-hand landline phone. It had been left on the floor outside the door.
I bought it in and left it near the radiator. And returned to the front room to save the computer work, then get the meal sorted out.
The door-chimes rang out their Dusty Springfield’s tune of ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ again. Aha, thought I, the driver, might have forgotten something. Back to the door, and there on the floor, something I adore, a bag of yellow tomatoes and a note, from Jenny, bless her. These fruits will become part of tonight’s nosh now! Thanks, Jenny!
I started to get the fodder for the night sorted out, and guess what, The door-chimes rang out their Dusty Springfield’s tune of ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ for the third time!
Well, blow me down with a feather duster!
This time, I was at the door within a minute or so, only to find nothing? The motion-lights in the lobby had not even been activated? A Ghost perhaps?
(Aye, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, 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 annoy and scare the bejesus, out of the old Inchcock’).
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!
The yellow tomatoes were tasted grand, the potato farls fine, everything else passable—a flavour-rating of 7/10. (Must do a Sainsbury order for next week in the morning! – a self-reminder this is really)
The pots were washed, and I settled down to watch the A-team on the telly. Fell asleep and woke up to the ending credit rolls. Tsk!
Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley ensured that I could not get to sleep again, for ages. Humph!
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.
The stomach was slowly getting a little more bothersome. This was a new type of tummy pain for me. Not sharp, but more like a persistent ache? I fear that last night’s disaster of a meal, and my eating some of it, might be the cause. Acid coming up now Reflux Roger has kicked off, too? Hey-ho!
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. The tummy-ache was joined by some rumblings, then the urgent need of the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I fumbled and bumbled my way ASAP to the wet room, and down on the Throne, and not a second too soon either!
The steady movement started on its own accord, no input from me, that was too painful a task. Everything seemed to go into a time-warp, as I waited through the pain, got the crossword book out. The oh, so slow progression… at the tail end of things, I tried pushing the action along… Argh! That was not a good idea!
Some bleeding, but not messy or too pungent. I cleaned up and got some Germoloid applied, and boy this helped ease things in the rear quarters.
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.
The stomach just kept on the same as before, a dull, grinding ache, now with the odd sharp stabbings. This does not bode well!
With the innards in this volatile condition, I did not risk having a brew of tea; and took some water with me to the computer instead. This is serious, me? Not having tea! Hehehe!
I made up a template for today, then got on with updating yesterdays post. The innards gave me so much bother and discomfort, but SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters) were both so kind to me, and typing was a little easier than usual. So things went well progress-wise on the blogging for once.
I started this post’s setting-up. Then went on Facebook catching-up. (Now the stomach was giving me some sharp stabs of sheer pain!)
That didn’t last long, I had to fly off (well, hobbled rapidly) to the Porcelain Throne again. A good job I didn’t delay going, only just got there in time. Far less painful this time, quicker and no bleeding. Phew!
Back to Facebooking, TFZers and Winwood Heights. Then on the WordPress Reader. Pinterested some snaps. Then, it was time for the ablutions to be done! The Vampire angel of a nurse is due this morning, but later on. Then this evening I must stay awake for the Morrison delivery that will be due.
Off to get the ablutions tended to. Had time to get the usual 08:00hrs full session in this morning.
Ablutionalisticalisationing Report
The teeth cleaning got me off to a bad start; Gums bleeding, Toothache Terence, and one dropsy of the toothpaste, and two of the brush.
Shaving: Oh, what a lot of dropsies! Foam Spray, Razors (5).
Shaving Cuts and nick: Only one cut and a nick, one bled a bit profusely, but the Brut stopped it and stung. Hehe!
Shaving: Dropped the Brut after-shave bottle, but, other than losing some lotion, no problems, toe or foot landing on, and the bottle did not break!
Showering: An Ace-job, not showerhead dropping, no walking or banging into anything, no Dizzy Dennis or SSS visits either! Great!
Medicationalisationing: Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding at all! But by gum, they were stinging! But I’ve had worse, and the precious Germoloid cream did its job in calming them down. So, a thumbs up.
Even the furuncle was not painful much, I reckon it’s on the decline now.
Rheumatoid Arthur Itis’s knees were worse than yesterday, but again, they’ve been worse, so another thumbs up. No need for any extra Phorpain.
I did knock some stuff off of the floor cabinet top, but only the earholes olive oil dropper, Germolene tube and body spray.
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?
Mind you, the right SSS shoulder joint was aching a lot more than usual, but this is to be expected, with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley being hyper-active for the last two days, well, afternoons. So, no complaints. Definitely, a time to adopt a Smug-Mode!
I got the hand-washing seen to next. A total of one long-sleeved shirt, It’s hard work yer know! Hehehe! No socks, cause with me not going out, I’m not wearing any.
Absolutely nothing to do with the shameful, scandalous, rumour going about, that I’m scared to death of using the killer Sock-Glide, just because it takes bits out of my fingers, blisters or bruises them each time I use it, whatsoever! A man of my calibre and extraordinarily brave, heroic character has no such fears, oh, no! Ahem!
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.
The evacuation was over in around three minutes, again the innards controlled the movement, but the intestines seemed to be in a rush, and the speed with which it travelled, once it started, flabbergasted me! A little, no, fair bit messer, and pongier, but once more, there was no more bleeding from the rear-end quarters. A good session, the best for ages!
I washed and medicated things in need, and got the bags loaded on the walker.
Getting to the waste chute room was a bit of a struggle with the bags, but once I got there, the small ones were deposited down the chute without any bother or hassle.
Caught the elevator down to the ground floor, a chap wanted to get on, at the 9th floor, and I beckoned him in, explaining that two people are allowed in together now, as part of the relaxing of the Coronavirus routine, as long as both are comfortable with this happening, and I was okay. The gentleman thanked me when we got down, that was polite of him.
I poddled to the caretakers’ bin. I placed the bag near the big green recycling bin, and I returned to the lift. Caught one back up, and realised I’d been all that way, and only saw one person.
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.
Do you think I might have overdone that a bit? It’s how I feel about her, though. Had I been forty-five years or so younger, my loins would have been girded! However, things being how they are, the simple pleasure of having a natter with her, and absorbing the lustre and sparkle from her twinkling eyes, even just for a few minutes, while she drains my blood, do me so much good, and for a while, nothing else concerns me! I suppose I’m in love, too late, but still! I’ll have to put up with just being infatuated. Hehehe!
As soon as she’d departed, off to serve her next patient, the blues start to return, gradually, but still.
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.
Did some updating on this blog, and decided to risk a tasty mug of tea, and then get some graphics made up for the diary tops, on CorelDraw, as I am now out of them, and will soon need more.
As I should have expected, no sooner had I got on CorelPaint programme, and SSS started shuddering and shaking the shoulders! Humph! This made the task hard-work, frustrating and handicapped!
Hours later, I’d got just three done. But Herbert kept me company with this tap, knock drag concerto.
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! At least it kept me awake doing this food prepping.
Aha, just took this picture of the nosh, and the intercom flashed. T’was the Morrison delivery, if there are no substitutes or errors I’ve made on it, it will be the first time in months. Tsk!
The young man conveniently left the bags in the doorway for me. Tsk! I slipped him a can of G&T and thanked him, he thanked me, and off he shot. Leaving me with the task of moving the bags into the kitchen. During which, for some odd reason, the right foot started to hurt. I’ll check it out, later.
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. ♥
The first two carriers had an eclectic range of products to mix together. Cakes, bleach, biscuits, lactose-free milk (A substitute), G&T for Josie, Germolene, Potato farls for me, and two bottles of toilet cleaner! I’m no glad there were no leakages during transportation!
In the next bag, a rare mixture again, bananas, fresh pod peas, tarts, and two bottles of washing-up liquid.
Again, I was glad that the washing up liquids didn’t leak!
The fresh-food carriers had some delightful looking items in them. Three bags of potatoes (Three bags? I ask you, am I losing it altogether?), More tomatoes. (I ask you, am I losing it altogether?), Surami sticks, bacon, lemon mousse, raspberry ripple mini frozen mousse (These are nice!), imitation Surami prawn-tails, and a block of Morrison’s Best, Brittany butter, it really is gorgeous tasting. So no worries about running short of food any time soon!
The right foot was getting more painful as I hobbled around, I must have a check on it later, to find out what it is that’s causing this sudden discomfort. It feels bad underfoot and in the ankle area? Hey-ho!
I got settled to eat the meal, and the landline burst forth flashing and ringing. As I heaved my mountainous, blubbery frame from the chair to get to answer the call, I distributed some of the fodder on the carpet. But I got to the telephone in time. It was the kind Caroline from the falls team ♥, to update me on things with the walking-frame. I put the computer back on to record the details, I knew if I didn’t do it at the time, there was a chance of my forgetting. (Well, almost guaranteed, haha!)
The frame is being delivered to the flat on Sunday 13th. I am not to touch it; but store it away, until Wednesday 16th, when Caroline will come and show me the ropes, so as to say. I scribbled some notes as well, to remind me in the morning.
Cleaned up the mess I made dropping the fodder dish. Then I returned to the recliner and ate what was left of the simpleton’s meal. Got the utensils and things washed, and made for the recliner, in search of much overdue and needed sleep.
Ten-minutes later, I’d drifted off into the land of Sweet Morpheus. The landline flashed and sounded again, and a weary, out-of-it Inchcock battled up out of the heavenly sleep and c1968 recliner, and he got to answer the phone in time too.
It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the results and new Warfarin dosages from the Anticoagulation, Haemostasis, Deep Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic tests on my blood. New INR Level 4.2, Doses: Tue 2½, Wed 2, Thr 2½, Fri 2½, Sat 2, Sun 2½, Mon 2½, Tues2. Next test Wednesday 16th September. With my missing an evening dose, and the INR level rising, I expected the new amounts to lessen, but they went up? Or maybe, I’m too tired and confused to get things right at the moment. There’s no doubt about it, my moments of acrasia are getting more frequent. Sad, innit?
Head down again, but of course, sleep would not return. Every night this seems to happen. At least Josie didn’t wake me up as well. Josie and I are opposites in the hours we keep, she wakes me up regularly in the evenings. And if I forget as well, and try to contact her in a morning before about 10:00hrs, she has the heaven-sent ability to ignore the door chimes, and still get back to sleep, again. Jealous? Me? Yes! Hahaha!
Eventually, I did nod-off; when I don’t know. Then… Argh! I escaped the chair, and in a sort of not-with-it, zombi-fashion, I got to the phone… This caller had a voice and accent I found so hard to understand. It turned out he wanted me to open the door, for him to deliver my Chukki-chicken and taramasalata or something like that. I asked him where he was, ‘Outside your door!’, Where, I inquired, ‘Devon Avenue’ he replied… His tone changed now, he was getting ratty with me now. Eventually, his accent and excitement meant I could not make out what he was saying at all. I told him in a clear, louder voice, he had called the wrong number and rang-off. Praying he would not call back!
I waited a couple of minutes in case he did. He didn’t, thankfully.
This really had shot any chances of getting any much-needed Sweet Morpheous in. I am a lucky so-and-so. Granglesknackerbuggerit!
(South Africa, Botswana, Zambia, and Mozambique, & Zimbabwe)
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?
I wandered limpingly to the kitchen. As I was about to take this morning view, from the letting rain in, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new windows, which came out decent enough considering the gloomy weather, I involuntarily started to breaking almost musical, lengthy winds from the rear end! I even broke into a smile wit the length of time they kept coming! Hehehe! But no call to the Porcelain Throne, there were none of the 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!
Using the stick thermometer, the temperature sowed up as 34.°7c. Which is a 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.
But before I began, the weather turned a little dark again, I pictured it with the Nikon and then dug into the updating.
Huh! The moment I started, guess what happened? SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked-off with some venom! This caused, curwhibbles, misspellings, Nicodemus’s occasional letdowns, constant correction making, frustrations, and a peed-offedness like never before! Gangleboggleisations! I gave up, well, had a break, and 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! I eventually got the clothes, done, wrung and hung above the sink. No socks to do, cause I chickened of wearing any yesterday.
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.
But it doesn’t matter, cause I’d already got some bits for Jenny, and added the pies and a facemask, and took them down to Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and left the carrier on her doorstep. Back up, and got some more updating on this blog done. Nicodemus and SSS had both calmed down, so progress was reasonable now.
When I got back, I’d had a letter put through the door, so I investigated. It was Nottingham City Homes, Regarding the bad parking at the flats. Pointing out that the bus had to be cancelled last week, due to cars parking on the yellow lines around the turning island, and the bus had to be cancelled for the rest of the day.
One passage read: If you see an NCH vehicle parked on a double-yellow line, please make a note of the vehicle registration, and pass it on to your Independent Living Coordinator, so we can follow this up.
And: We will shortly be installing new bollards around the roundabout to prevent cars parking. They asked residents not to park in restricted areas.
‘Our aim is to keep these areas free from vehicles, to allow bus and emergency services access’.
We all know that there are problems for nurses and residents to park, but the Nottingham City Homes are aware of this, and they are planning to make more spaces available soon. So it’s nice to know they are active in sorting the problems out. Merit point to the NCH!
Jenny rang later, baryphonics from Stuttering Stephany, made me feel a right fool. Talk about having difficulty speaking, finding and spitting out the words didn’t come easily. Humph! I was so well pleased she appreciated the nibbles. Even happier when we got a little chinwag and laugh together in. She was patient with Stuttering Stephanie as well. Bless her! ♥
I got the oven warming, checked the potatoes in the slow-cooker, and got a tin of baked beans in the saucepan, back to the computer.
A landline call came in, it was my beloved Vampire nurse Hristina. ♫ She’ll be coming round the mountain… ♫ losing it here, sorry! Be calling in the morning to take the blood for the INR Warfarin test. ♥
Got the nosh prepared and served up. Horrible is the best word to describe this culinary catastrophe!
The potatoes were alright, that’s about it really. Eurgh! 3/10 for flavour & taste!
I left most of it, apart from the spuds, that is. A wise move, I think.
Took the things through to the kitchenette to soak in the washing up bowl, checked on the jacket still hanging to dry, and moved it on the coathanger to the window, when I took this decentish photo, the evening view looked impressive.
To the main room, and took another picture with the Nikon, through the balcony windows. Pretty natty cloud display!
So, there was no Porcelain Throne visit today. Hmm?
Evening medications were taken, and I got down in the c1968 recliner in search of Sweet Morpheus. Which was nothing short of brilliantly successful! I was in the land-of-nod within an hour. Sleeping and dreaming (I was back to 1950, and a youngster again in this nightmare)… which was rudely disturbed by repeated chiming on the front doors bells!
I had to struggle out of the recliner, fumble about getting some clothes on, hobbling and stubbing my damned toe en route to the door. To discover that it was Josie who’d woke me for the third time in seven days, bringing me a cake, bless her intentions. ♥ I thanked her, couldn’t hear anything she said, no hearing aids in.
I wish the gal would and could remember about my going to sleep early, but there you are, not her fault, we’re both the same memory-wise it seems. Hahaha!
But that was the end of any sleep; when I got back down again, I just could not nod back to sleep! Humph!
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! So annoying innit? Tsk!
While I lay there, silently swearing at myself, the urgent need of a wee-wee presented itself. All thoughts of the failed recollections of the dream were abandoned, and I heaved my grossly overly-stomached body from the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner, wobbled a bit, and got to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and suffered a rather painful PSC (Powerful-Sprinkly-Colourless) wee-wee. As I got the bucket cleaned and disinfected, I half expected the usual ‘within-minutes-of-waking’ summoning to the Porcelain Throne, but no, which surprised me.
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!
I got the Health Checks done then, starting with the BP sphygmomanometerisationing. Oh, dearie me! The SYS was still high, too high. Next, I used the stick thermometer to get the body temperature. Down a bit, at 32.4°c.
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!
As I was struggling to get up from the floor, I slipped on a patch of wet I’d missed, and clouted the top of my head and nose against the corner of the cupboard! It could have been worse, I anticipated a dirty great lump on the bonce, but there wasn’t.
The Falls Team Member is calling to see me today. No idea what time, though. So, I got on with the updating of yesterday’s diary, so I could have time to get the ablutions done before he, she or they arrive.
SSS did not help any, but I stuck at it and got it done in a few hours. Pinterested some snaps from the blog. Went on the WordPress Reader, then Facebooking. Emailed the link, and replied to a couple of comments. Did some graphicationalisationing.
Aha! The call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and off to the wet room.
The recent ten or so sessions have all been a struggle and time-consuming affairs. So I got the crossword book to hand – but by Jiminee, the movement almost shot out in one long, painful blast! Messy, pongy, and bloody.
Got a good clean up, and returned to the computer to press-on with the starting and updating of this blog. Off to do the ablutions.
Wee-wee: of the CLD (Cloudy-Long-Dribbling [but not painful]) mode taken.
The teeth cleaning: It went very well, I took it nice and steady, almost gently! Only one dropsy, the brush. No bleeding! Oh, no, the mouth wash bottle went as well, just the once.
Shaving: Dropped the shaving foam twice.
Shaving: Dropped the razors (5). As far as I can tell, only one tiny-weeny cut!
Body washing: Soap dropsies, Eight of them!
Body Washing: Flannel dropped three times!
Body Washing: Knocked the soap dish off of the sink as I removed the plug to soak the flannels after washing. No damage or bother, it is an old yoghourt pot I use! (Common as muck, me!)
Towelling off: No knocking over, off or into anything! Yee-ha!
Medicationalisationing: Dropped the Viscotears® liquid gel spray, I now have no Viscotears® liquid gel spray left, it broke! Cleaned things up and continued medicating other areas.
Medicationalisationing: Olive oiled the ear-holes.
Medicationalisationing: As carefully as is possible, I applied the Germolene to the largest carbuncle. Cleverly (I thought), avoiding Harold’s Haemmorhoids
Medicationalisationing: Then the Germoloid cream applied
Medicationalisationing:
Medicationalisationing:
Medicationalisationing:
I went on the balcony to take some shots of the morning as it brightened up somewhat.
More work on this diary, and the intercom lit-up and the Falls Team lady, Caroline arrived.
The nurse went through my details and was very sociable with it.
During the time Caroline was here, Sister Jane rang several times, thinking that we would have been finished the consultation, and in the end, told me to ring her back when I was free. Hehehe!
The very patient Caroline, ended up arranging for a walking frame (Never thought this would happen to me!) that is narrower than usual to try out in the flat. And hopefully, get me back on a physio-course. I definitely felt so much better after the visit. Thanks, Caroline.
I then set about getting a wash to freshen me up and dressed to go out, and then rang Jane back. My xyrophobia, trypanophobia, Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, and belonephobia, suffering, over amour propred, sickenly good-looking Brother-in-law Pete, was at the City Hospital hospital today, for more flipping chemoradiotherapy treatment. I’ll ring him in the morning to see how it went.
I set out to the bus stop, on my escape from isolation, with the aim of getting some disinfectant from Poundland, and black washing liquid was the Bargain shop.
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!
It brought me down with them. The gloom was almost overbearing.
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 caught a 40 bus, having to sit on the side-saddle seat, to have room for the trolley. A lady with a disabled scooter got on, and I was moved to an ordinary seat. But with no room for the three-wheeler walker guide! I had to grab onto it and move it each time someone got on or off the bus. Hard work. Hahaha! I was shattered by the time I got back to the flats. Hey-ho!
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. A tasty feast really! A deserving flavour rating of 8/10.
I took the evening medications while dining. Put the plate and things in the sink to soak overnight, and washed/medicated certain bodily areas in need of doing.
I think this was the quickest I dropped off onto the land of Nod, for months!
In the morning, I made up a hopefully witty photo-ode of my trip out to Nottingham, before updating this blog. This is the link to it if you’ve not read it yet, I fank you!
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 recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey. Then I proceeded to do a slow-motion imitation of a John Cleese walk, desperate to hold back any anticipated escapages en route to the wet-room! I thought I’d succeeded!
I whipped down the PPs and got settled down sharpishly on the raised seat, There followed one of the most horrendous evacuations I’ve ever had. Sadly!
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!
A good clean up, medicationing, and antisepticalisationing took place. During which, I caught Metal Mickey with my foot, and he came down straight onto my left foot toes! I was worried about the noise the calamity had made, hope it didn’t bother anyone!
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!
I hobbled to the kitchenette, and needed another wee-wee! I can’t keep mention this, but it kept on all morning, every wee was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) type, and, 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!
I took a snap of the morning view, then got the kettle on the boil, and retrieved the BP sphygmomanometer from the third-down medical drawer.
The Sys is still a bit high, and the pulse rate was up – this is possibly due to the nightmare evacuation farce on the Throne, and all the upset of the proceedings, methinks?
Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and took the medications. Then off to Computer Cameron, and made up a template. Then updated the Friday Inchcock, which, after the horrendous start to the day, went almost smoothly. Oh, Yes! The ailments were all, apart from Toothache Terence and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, being kind to me! A long job, but I completed it in record time. Smug-Mode-Utilised!
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.
After an hour or two, and many wee-wees, I went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjabi. I got some new potatoes in the crockpot, to marinate, with sea salt, and some fish vinegar for a while, I’ll put the hear on later.
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.
I visited Facebook and read and posted some stuff. Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Time’s flown, I’d better get the ablutions done. Back in a bit…
I’m back! Not as easy a session as yesterday, but that was a miraculously damage-fee special one-off session. Back to a closer to the norm performance today. Hehehe!
ABLUTIONALISATIONING SESSION REPORT
––etc. And then ––! Tsk!
On arriving in the wet room, the need for another Porcelain Session came. And a painful one it was! But far easier than the first one all the same.
Oh, dearie me! The cistern was not coping with removing the waste product! I had the lid off and kept flushing and refilling via a jug from the sink. I poked in the inlet pipe, and found it part-blocked with the toilet block seals? I gave up after that, I’ll have another go later on. Gragnangles!
Too early to use the shower, too noisy. So I cleaned and medicated my lower regions, but gave up trying to stop Harold’s Haemorrhoids from bleeding, I’ll try after having the stand-up wash. When I can concentrate easier. Flagtoggles!
Pickleglobknobs! The teeth cleaning was a nightmare, well, morningmare, bleeding gums, agony from the toothache, and four dropsies of the paste and brush!
The one job, shaving, did frit me a tad. Yet it went so well, only twp dropsies of the razors, and one of the foam spray. And, only one tiny cut above ear-hole. It always amazes me, why does my hair grow around and in the earholes, but nowhere else? Just a thought. Confusionableitis!
Cleaning around the rear end caused a few stings from the furuncles and piles. Ohh-oh-ho!
The dreaded medicationalising, was as to be expected, hurtful! Hahaha!
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!
Note the screws up Haemorrhoidcream tub? When picking things up, I dropped that one three times! On the third effort, it bounced off of the raised seat, on to the wall, and rebounded landing behind the pipework! Grigglebogsblowit! Took me a lot of effort to reach it with the short picker-upperer (Donated to me by Jenny, Bless her ♥), and I had to knock the cartilage damaged finger getting it!
Then I had a bash at freeing the waste product. More flushes, and prodding in the hole. It’s still not all gone, but I’d had lost heart and felt atrabilious. I left it, to try yet again later on.
The feet and legs, as with the rest of the body, was really anæmic looking. Ghostly, infirm, peaky! A few new blotches. Silver-Lining-Search-Result: However, the ankle ulcer continues to slowly fade away.
I got some trousers and my slippers on, and off to the kitchen. The morning was breaking, at last.
I got the kettle on for a mug of Thompsons Punjana.
Set the heat on the crockpot, and put some mushrooms in the saucepan, with some sea salt and balsamic vinegar.
Ah, Herbert’s at his model making again, I reckon. No drilling and hammering this time, just the odd tap-knock and clunk. No problem at the moment.
I had a look at the many emails awaiting my attention. Busy looking time coming up for next week.
The wee-weeing is still coming at a steady rate of knots, about eleven or more so far, I reckon.
I had a perusal of the Nottingham Local E-magazine. To find some of the latest Coronavirus figures available. It took a while, but I managed to get these articles found, that does not look too good.
The cunning way in which they have changed the central figure from total to just new cases make it look far less to worry about.
Yesterday’s figure: Four new infections were recorded in Nottingham – bringing its total up to 1,337. Across the wider county, there have now been 3,366 positive tests confirmed since the start of the pandemic. This is an increase of 10 since yesterday, with Broxtowe recording the highest number of new cases (three) in the last 24 hours. However, there were no new cases reported in either Mansfield or Ashfield, while Bassetlaw, Gedling, and Rushcliffe all recorded two new cases.
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. Another goodish effort and I gave it 7/10 for a Flavour-Rating.
Consumed it with relish, and got the pots washed. The fatigue and weariness dawned on me as I sat down, but would Sweet Morpheus arrive? No!
Put the TV on, in the hopes, this might help. But, no! The danged Thought-Storms began! Confusion, aporias, and incongruities flourished! They produced a sort of habrobaniacal state of mind! Claptickleisations!
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.
My being a nebbech, worry-wart, fatalist, and pessimist (as is sure to be expected for an ill-fated, unlucky nincompoop like me), I cautiously refused to listen to the urge from within, to adopt a smug-mode. I knew better, and my EQ was at that very time, warning me of frustrations to come again today! Which was a little disheartening after the last four days of anguish, failure and nowt much, going right! Grobbleknangles!
But I could be wrong, cause the Health checks went alright and the sphygmomanometerisationing BP results, were not so bad.
Perhaps a smidge high on the SYS. The working-again Thermometer read 83.5°f, 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!
I got on the computer, and for some unascertained reason, I found this clip I’d taken later when I got around to putting the photos in the diary? Why? No idea, now!
Then as I got on the computer, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Anne Gyna and Nocodemus’s Neurotransmitters all attacked me at the same time! Yee God’s I was in a state! Confused, bewildered and not able to concentrate at all. I took some painkillers, cause Anne Gyna was really having a crack at me! The clanging from above didn’t help.
The wind was getting up high again, the trees were taking a bashing out there. I’ll see if I can take some photo’s later on, of the area around the flats. Hello, it’s getting brighter now, but the winds are still howling!
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!
Yet again, I’ve no idea how, or what I did. But when the hands fly, the main concentration is on not knocking anything over and staying in the chair! I spent hours trying to get to find out how to get them back, but nope!
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.
Oh, boy, what a picklement I’ve got myself 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.
This is how the balcony looked when I first moved in, airy, easy, simple, bootiful! I do miss the old one so much!
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.
Albutioning Session Report
The anticipation call to the Porcelain Throne did not arrive.
Cleaning the teeth, I dropped the battery toothbrush, somehow it still worked after being retrieved.
The shaving was again bloody. Hehehe! Three tiny nicks, both earholes and under the chin.
Ah, the showering, that did not go so well. Dropped the showerhead, flannel (3), carbolic soap (2), and the hand-rail was clobbered with my right elbow.
Drying off, had a nasty Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis session. I sat on the shower chair for a while, during which Saccades Sandra had a bash at me. Soon came round, and started the medicalisationing.
Dropsies: The Germoliod and Daktacort cream tubes (3), I went up a class with next Whoopsie, and dropped the Germolene pink tube without realising it, trod on it looking for my spectacles. Well, at least the floor will be ready-medicated if it gets a cut! Haha! Cleaned up.
Getting the PP’s on, I lost my balance. (No ailments to blame as far as I could tell, I just went over, backwards). A spot of luck with this though, I was so close to the door, it broke my fall, I slid down and clumped on my backside with a thud! I’ll likely have a bruise on the coccyx.
Had to redo the Haemhorroid Harolds, they were bleeding a bit, and needless to say, stinging. I do hope that the noise of my tumble didn’t annoy Herbert up above. It took a while to stop the flow of the red stuff, but I managed. Cleaned it up again, and got some more Germoloid on them. Costing me a fortune this is!
I had to work on the blog, and try not to get annoyed at the missing details. I remembered later, I need to do an order for next week, should it be with Morrisons or Sainsbury’s? A quick check on the Surimi stocks in the fridge, and recalling the crush oven dishes last time, and I decided it would be Sainsbury’s, cause Morrisons do not sell the better ones. I got it done in a reasonable time, 20 minutes or so, got a slot for Tuesday 25th August, but a little later in the day at 15:00 > 16:00hrs. I put this on the Google Calendar.
As I stood up to make a mug of tea, my forecast for getting a bruise on my coccyx proved right. It was like a dull ache as soon I tried to stand up. It made using Metal Micky a bit painful. The elbow was aching a bit too. Such a choice of pains, aches and stings, I’m blessed really!
I made the brew and got settled at the computer again. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed again, and I ended up losing some writing I’d done, and had scrolled right down at the bottom of the WordPress editing page… which was good!
I found the tags and categories I’d lost! What a Shlemiel I am! I sent an email to Tim Price telling him and apologising for bothering him, again. The chap’s saved my bacon no-end of times with WordPress problems.
The wind was getting more and more bothersome now. I bet it gets some of the tenants a bit worried, as well as me. Haha! I had to get up for another wee-wee, and the pain in the rear-end seemed a little less bothersome and sore?
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!
But, with me being the brave, heroic, gallant, daring, intrepid, fearless, lionhearted, indomitable, stalwart, masculine, young man that I am, I persevered with taking the Inchcock Today photographicalisationing. Ahem!
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.
I took a photo of the end car park, for the Billumski Red Car Regulator, in Ohio, I’ll check that later if I remember. Hehe!
I got back to the computer, forgetting all about making a brew. And looked up the weather on the BBC site.
It also gave a forecast for Nottingham for a few days. Better prepare for probable, prolonged precipitation, perhaps. Puddles and all that? Hehehe!
Ah, well, good news finding the new location of the tags and categories, this has definitely given me a boost, dragged me from the dumps! I dare not, I think I’ve mentioned this already, try to move them back to where I’d like then again, I may lose them altogether.
Oh, yes, this bit of luck has perked me up, supercalifragilisticexpialidociously. But still cannot block out the weariness and fatigue that approached. I’ll get the nosh sorted out, just in case I nod-off unexpectedly. Haha!
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!
I put the pots to soak in the bowl. I was soon in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringeworthily-beige-coloured recliner. And, to my great satisfaction, I’d drifted off to sleep without the need of the boring TV to assist me, into the bliss of sleep!
Five minutes or so later, the landline flashed, it was Nurse Hristina, telling me she would be here on Monday, to take my blood, twixt 10:00 > 14:00hrs. The line was crackly, I was half-asleep, but I wrote the times down to add to the calendar in the morning.
I crawled back into the none-working recliner.
I had trouble getting back to sleep, though. No thought-storming, more a vacant space in my mind? Tried putting on the TV, but that didn’t work, turned it off, and thought I’d have a go at the crossword book. A mistake that was, I know now!
I’d got put of the rickety-recliner, got the stick, and made my way to the crossword book… The toe-stubbing I gave myself en route, almost made me cry out on agony! One of my more proficient efforts! Argh! The thoughts of the crosswording dissipated. I grabbed a codeine tablet I’d missed taking earlier from the Ottoman, and lay there for hours, waiting for the pain to subside so I could get back to Sweet Morpheusing!
