Tuesday 11th February 2020
Hausa: Yau Talata 11 ga Fabrairu 2020
00:05hrs: I woke, with a picture of phlebotomy Nurse Christina in my mind. She is due to call today, I think, I’ll have to check later. No demands for any bodily releases? I was moving freer this morning, I was out of the £300, second-hand, unpleasantly, grubby beige-coloured recliner, up on pegs, stick in hand, and moving to the kitchen, within three or four minutes. Smarmy-Swank-Mode engaged!
As I was putting the kettle on, a double release was needed, front and back. Off I trudged to the wet room. It really was not worth the effort! Despite all the usual signs from the innards, the attempted Throne Session was not forthcoming. And as for the wee-wee, it took me three or four minutes, and I can’t have passed more than a couple of sprinkled fluid ounces, and they were in different directions, most missed the porcelain all together. A peculiar start to the day, proper uncharacteristic! I investigated to see if Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding, no sign of any blood. Mmm, discountenanced about this scenario.
Back to the kitchen, made the tea, and took the ever-dwindling supply of medications. I must ask the Nurse to ring the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, for me. To find out if the prescriptions (that are late again this month) are coming. Or, do I have to go to Carrington to collect them. This thought made me check on what time Christina is coming. I went to check the diary. Oh, Grumpworthiness! She is not coming this week, it’s next Tuesday! Grrr!
I took this shaky shot out of the unwanted, light and view-blocking new kitchen window. I apologise for the terrible quality. Two excuses, I mean, reasons. First: I blame Nottingham City Homes for building the ledges that stick out so far, that anyone under eight-foot-tall. Cannot see out at anything below, especially short-arsed disabled, bald, not wealthy, partly deaf (well, mostly), bespectacled, octagenarian old men. Who live in flat 72 and happens to be keen on photography, and knowing if any emergency vehicles are on-site because he can’t hear the fire alarm. Second: I blame my ailments. Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Stroke-Stewart, the Nicodemus Neurotransmitters dying, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete! Lucky sod, I am!
January Prescriptions blister-pack label? Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA
But hey! If the chemist, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, can lie about delivering prescriptions after promising to do, also, fail to change the blister packs, and putting the wrong date on the stuff when it finally arrives. They can happily leave me without medication for five days as last month! The Doctor, nurses and medical team all fail to make any difference to the situation. What the heck! They’ll have dead between them, and probably be content about it. It will just mean one less old git to bother about. Only a genuine thought come worry!
Now, where was I before I went off on that paddy? Oh, yes! Gorrit now. I got with doing yesterdays blog update. It took many hours, due to having to sort the many photographs taken.
I had to go back to the wet room, another summoning to the Porcelain Throne had arrived from the innards. Heck, what a lengthy, painful one it was too! Solid as a rock, it took some moving after getting stuck half-way, just like it did on Monday and Tuesday. I might take a senna tablet later (I did). This time there was a fair bit of bleeding. The accompanying wee-wee was another not worth it type. A spread-out sprinkling drop or two. Things don’t feel right in this department at all.
The moo0nb was lingering on well this morning, I thought. So, I took some photographs from the heart-rendering hated kitchen window. Two of them have the low, late moon on view.
Back to the updating task, didn’t get it finished until gone 06:00hrs! Luv-a-duck! Went on the WordPress Reader section. Then it was time for the ablutions to be done. They went okayish. As per usual, a few dropsies. A couple of tiny nicks shaving. But no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion. I reckon I could hear the flaming ‘Hum’ while I was in the wet room!
This reminded me of talking to the other passengers on the L9 bus yesterday, and I mentioned the ‘Hum’, and a well-dressed chap looked awfully puzzled, and asked me what it was! I replied: “A bloody nuisance that drives me mad!” A couple of the ladies said they get it too! I suggested that the man look it up on Wikipedia, and it is worldwide! But no one can work out what it is or where it’s coming from! He was the only passenger to get off in Daybrook. I wonder if they are Hum-Free there? Hehe! I might try to move if so!
I came out of the wet room, all refreshed and feeling betterer in temperament than I did earlier. So, I got the handwashing done. Taking extra care not to drop the bowl, or spill too much water over me or the floor. Of course, some got lost. I moved yesterdays washing onto the cloth airers. The jammie bottoms I hung in the wet room and left the heater on, fingers crossed I don’t forget about them.
What am I saying, me? Forget something? Hahaha!.
Then I decided the water falling on the floor, and my walking through it, created a need for the kitchen floor to be swept and mopped up! Great balls of fire; suddenly this, decision-making, determination and will-power! It can’t last long, surely? Better make a start on the floor cleaning straight away, while I’m in this unexpected and illogical, organically-impossible, semi-contented ready for work condition!
I got the floor done, and put some kitchen towelling down so, I didn’t spread muck while I went back in to make
a brew. Why I even remembered to pick up the paper when the tiles had dried. Oh, Yes! Smug-Mode-Assumed!
I thought I felt something in the lower regions that felt warm and wet! Oh, dear!
Off to the wet room again. When I got in, the heat hit me, and the thought of ‘What the ‘eck are you doing, Inchcock? This flaming convector heater in the wet room is costing a fortune, and here you are drying your thin dressing gown with it! So, I moved it onto the flat airer, and put the t-shirt in the airing cupboard! A rare moment of logicalness there!
Back to the wet room, to check for any bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion. All was clear, I also inspected Harold’s Haemorrhoids. No leaking there either. The warm wet feeling baffled me? While there, I had a decker at the pins (legs). Amazing! They were still pale, a few more lumps courtesy of Clopidogrel, but the surprising thing was, the blood papules had all but gone, and they only appeared yesterday! I think?
Had a Dizzy, tumbled, cracked head, not good. Must get rest, made Dagwood type sarnies, sat down and ate them. Must feel alright for visiting the Doctor in the morning. That doesn’t ring right, does it? Well, it might!
Put the things in the bowl to soak, and took a snap of the impressive clouds.
I got down again in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
Zzzz!
Took the medications, getting desperately low on them now. Due to the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA failing to deliver any prescriptions. Again! 
I got the kettle on and took a photo of the outside view. 
I paid up and somehow got the two big bags, onto handlebars, of the basket and bag filled three-wheeler, and outside so I could do some rearranging to make it easier for me to hobble with the now very heavy and unruly three-wheeler guide. Still, I’ve avoided having a food delivery this week! Never again! Morrisons food delivering again next week!
The wind was terrible again when I alighted the L9. Brrr! Blowing up something, rain most likely, although snow has been forecast? 
Court? 
As I plodded through the Winwood Social Area, there were no tellurians in sight anywhere. So I took a snap of one if the Winwood Court Dulux Dogs. Hehehe! 
The nosh was sorted out, and a grand tasty treat it was! 
When I opened the kitchen window to take the shots from there, the blasted window was caught by the powerful winds… onto the back of my head! Inchyangulations! Now, my mood, so fluctuational during this Monday, changed once again. The good old Pissed-offedness returned! To make it worse, I could not get back to sleep!
01:10hrs: I can’t claim to have woken up this morning cause all I did was repeatedly have a couple of minutes nod-off, woke, mused, and did it again, and again, and aga…, well, you get the picture. Another almost sleepless night! Thus, I am not up to much this morning. Not that I am on many mornings. Haha! 
As I grabbed the stick and gingerly made my way to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), I knocked some stuff off of the Ottoman. The wee-wee was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) standard. But a warm feeling of appreciation for and off Jenny’s perfect saving gift of the picker-upperer blossomed, and after the leak, retrieving the fallen things was easy-peasy! 
Come think of it, I’ll just check to see how many blisters of tablets are left to use. Back in a bit. 
Then as I was coming back to reality, that’s not the word, but still, the howling winds of the start of storm Ciara reached us, there was an unbelievably loud gale, I thought I’d take a photo, not that you can picture wind, but still, I snapped a shot in Night Landscape mode. It was as if the funny turn had not happened, I felt placidly chirpy in myself! I did struggle when I opened the window, though, took all my limited strength to stop the thing rattling against the inner recess wall.
I made up and took the five black bags to the rubbish chute. 
back after I’ve delivered Josie’s nosh. I made battered cod, mushrooms, garden peas, tomatoes, Marmite and a Babybell mini cheese, the Coronation Mayonaisse Tuna, and some cheesy-buttery potato mash, I know she likes that the way I do it. Cause she told me so. Haha! 
I got the beef cooking in the proper pan this time. Fed-up? Me? I was so tired now, I thought I may have difficulty in keeping awake to eat the ‘feast on a tray!
But hey, how could I take umbrage at this, when I’m not exactly a good rememberer myself, and get just as confused as Josie does? No problem! I was a little irked at being woken up again, mind, but it can’t be helped with us old folk and our mutual forgetfulness, and obliviousness moments. 
This was one of the more painful varieties of evacuation. Auto-starting and the movement flowed, well crept so slowly and hurtfully, but there was no forcing or stopping it! One had to just sit there writhing in agony until it was over! And believe me, it felt like hours before it did so! Probably just a couple of minutes, though. I go into detail, as a warning to younger folk, get your Pancreas (the whole system really) checked at the first signs of struggling or blood! I didn’t, so more fool me, too late now! But not for you whippersnappers out there! Please! 
Very messy, I needed a lot of cleaning and medication afterwards, but this is all to be expected nowadays. Off to the kitchen, to get the kettle on, important things first. Haha! 
I stopped to have some brekkers. I considered delving into the giant pot of luxury Sicilian Lemon layered yoghourt. (Rich British Cream and a zesty Sicilian lemon compote!) but I resisted this time. Although
I opted for some Crunchy Nut flakes instead. I enjoyed them immensely, with no guilt showing up whatsoever! Washed the dish and cutlery, and was feeling tired now. But all my concentration would be needed now!
01:50hrs: I stumbled into a sort of imitation life, and waited a few seconds for the brain to catch me up. When it did, the short pleasant moments of vagueness and freedom from fears ended. As the cerebrum galvanised into life, the regular first instructions on waking arrived; “You need the Porcelain Throne, now!” 
The evacuations started then stopped part-way again. I waited for nature and my innards to move things along, cause last time I energetically encouraged activity, the bleeding was terrible. To avoid a repeat, I waited patiently, and in pain, nevertheless, I still fell asleep on the Throne! Harumph! It’s not the first time I’m done it, but I haven’t for a long time now. I even had a dream, that seemed to me so vivid, I got the impression when I woke up, that I’d been dreaming for ages. But the clock told me, I’d only been in the arms of Morpheus for two minutes or so? In the dream, I was in a Courtroom, built from parts of bodies and innards as if I was in a chest or something. I was discussing and arguing with ribs, lungs etc. about why they weren’t sorting out a pact with the Neurotransmitters to get them to work again? 
To find that Jenny stood there with a new picker-upper in hand for me to have! (She had read the blog and the picker-upper fiasco, and there she was helping me out again, Bless her cotton socks!) ♥. We chatted a little, and Jenny gave me good advice on certain things, and off she went. I can’t even remember if I thanked her properly, for the Godsent help, for at the end of the day, this tool became so priceless and pain-saving. (Explained later on). I thought I’d get one of the long reach ones today, from the Disability shop in Arnold, that collapse (they break in half when you fall on them, hehe!) and can be taken with me in the trolley guide when I go shopping. This one was perfect for picking up, as I found out when I tried it on a tablet! Smashing, thanks, Jenny, you truly are a comforting, faith-returning Angel! ♥
Back to the wet room, and finished off, got dressed, and ready with a deal of alacrity, to be in time to catch the bus. I took the bags to the waste chute on the way out. 
The sun was bright, but it was bitterly cold, I was glad when the bus arrived. As I got settled in the side-saddle seat, I noticed how white and pale the hands looked? Either the carbolic soap had increased in strength, or I’d died and nobody told me! Hahaha! 
I looked up and noticed how deep in thought, and Russian-Romanian looking, Mary was. I sneaked this surprisingly decent snap of her. 
Off to the Futltons Food shop. Found another type of Tuna for Josie, and got a bottle of sterilised milk. 
Out in the heatless sunshine onto Front Street and to the bus stop. No signs of Mary? As I stood there waiting, Mary arrived, telling me she was going to Asda 
So, I waited and caught the bus and as it went on its circuitous route, the brain seemed to go into one of its vacuous-moments. I may well have fallen asleep, though. Either way, I was shaken out of it, by the driver papping his horn. 
Back at the flats, I had a job getting up on my feet to get of the bus. (Arthur Itis’s knees) The driver was patient with me. 
but gelid sun seemed to be getting brighter now. I arrived at the Woodthorpe Court entrance and took this shot. I thought at this time, of the fire last night, and the good fortune that it was at nighttime. For sure, the emergency services 
would have difficulty in finding anywhere to park, not that it would have been easy in the day either really. 
I made up some wholemeal rolls, buttered, added cooked slices, and thickly cut black Ibera tomatoes, salted them. Then I added the truffle-chips to the tray. A pot of lemon yoghourt for afters, and got settled in the £300, second-hand recliner to digest the fodder. 
So, no nosh tonight then! I did have some biscuits to nibble, mindful that Duodenal Donald might kick-off as well if I didn’t eat something. I don’t think I could have coped if he’d joined in with the others at the same time. Then I realised I had not taken the medications, so I did! 
Which gave me time to have a mind-wander. But it wasn’t a pleasant experience, all my faults, worries and problems stormed into the brain, rattled about almost mocking me, and then as the evacuation got a bit more movement and agony replaced the pain, the thoughts left me, thank heavens. Hell of struggle, but I rid myself of the products, a little bleeding, but not messy. 
To the computer, and set to updating the Wednesday post. Nicodemus Neurotransmitters were not playing up much at all. That was a pleasant divergence from the norm, which I took advantage of, and had got the whole thing finished of (not many photos) in record time before they kicked off again. Also, I struggled to read my own writing. Fleeting Satisfied Mode! 
The Stand-up Ablutions were tackled:
floor-cupboard. Sigh!
They were all made-up. so that was nice! I put the new frying pan in the trolley-guide bag, I’d decided to give it to the volunteers at the Social Kitchen to use. Got wrapped up warmly, and ventured out. Down in the elevator, through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, I met Angie and Roy at the foyer door, they were buying some stuff early from the bread and veg man, then catching a taxi. 
Then into the big social lounge, where some residents were finishing off their Friday breakfasts. I was in a bit of a rush in case the bus came early, so I went straight to the kitchen opening window, cause they do not like my three-wheeler near the food, a lady came behind me and told me not to stand there, cause she’s trying to serve people! Fair enough, I shoved the brand new pan in her hand and told her “Here, you can have this!” The good feeling of my doing something to help, drained from me. I walked out through the Winwood foyer door and made my way to the bus shelter. 
I caught the bus back, and Bill (William on Sundays) got on further along the route. With us both being hard-of-hearing, the conversation was strained. Haha! 
re I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs! 
down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.
I got the pots in the washing-up bowl to soak. Took another shot of the evening sky, and had a wee-wee. Settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
Clumber Street, I rested, the knees were stinging and tight,
. 
Long Row, above the Yorkshire bank, 
Long Row businesses, failing so so much now,
Ah, another pavement cyclist, for short, PC, I’ll call them,
A gathering of Nottinghamians resting,
City Centre, Long Row, and, the Slab Square,
Queen Street, I nearly got hit by yet another PC,
01:15hrs: I woke with the mind doing ut own thing again, and I genuinely feared the worst. Yet, within a few minutes, I was battling out of the £300 second-hand recliner, had urged and forced my misshaped, wobbly mass of a body onto its feet, and did few moves, bends and wriggles to test out the ailments, and was in recent form, I thought, anyway. 
The evacuation almost had me cheering! It was that good! Not too big, 
I made some tea and took the medications. Then got the updating of the blog done. The saving was failing a few times, but this time, I thought it might be a WordPress problem? The updating took ages, mostly through having to keep stopping for Saccases-Sandra to clear. Many hours after starting, I got it finished. Phew! 
I turned everything off and got the ablutions tended to. I called on Josie again first, while I’d got clothes on. No answer again. 
The ablutions produced many dropsies. No proper Whoopsies, though. Another call on Josie, no luck. 
Back to the stone-cold meal, not that there was much to harm. Only the mushrooms, garden peas and potatoes were heated anyway. 
I added some bits to Pinterest, then spend an age on the TFZer Facebooking. But I enjoyed it. Mr Fries Virgin Media started and stayed playing up again. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Then went to make another brew of tea, gingerly, carefully and cautiously I might add. (Ha-ha!) 
Phlebotomy nurse vampire, the super-beautiful and highly desirable Christina arrived, a little earlier than expected. So, I might be able to catch the 10:30hrs bus to go and get some saucepans to replace those I’ve burned! Haha! She took the blood in her usual professional way, no bleeding from the vein, as usual (Oh she is good, and pulchritudinously, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, charming, bewitching, and gorgeously pretty with it). She warned me of the oh, so cold weather outside. If only I was fifty-odd years younger, fitter, had hair, no ailments… Dream on Inchcock! Hahaha! Christina departed, sadly in her usual rush, bless her.
Caught the bus with about twelve other tenants, who all got off in Sherwood. I decided in route, to go to Sainsbury’s in Daybrook to look for saucepans and get some nosh in. As I got off of the bus, Dizzy Dennis came on, but not badly, but it slowed me up and did my concentration no good. A few hazy bits in my memory of the visit. I do remember getting a cling-film wrapped set of three saucepans, all ready-made up (handles and lids not loose). Which was glad-making for me. It was the last on the shelves, too! I recall struggling to get around carrying it and coping with the walker-guide and getting things off of the shelves to buy.
I spent £18.60 in total, paid at the self-serve tills. Then, as I was going for the bus home, it dawned on me, I had not got the saucepans! I stopped near the exit doors and checked the receipt… no, I hadn’t paid for them anyway! What I had done with them remains a mystery. 
Over the next few hours, I took these pictures on the right of the page, of the sky from the unwanted, unneeded, unpopular, light and view-blocking, unable to get at to clean, photographers nightmare kitchen window.
The things that sometimes permeate through and hassle my brain; I don’t mean the usual brain-storms, but these odd moments of pointless reflections, can be entertaining, but not until after they’ve been tackled or considered.
The nosh was prepared and served up. Chicken and vine tomato Dagwood-Style sarnies, new potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas and beetroot. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of orange cordial flavoured spring water for afters. I ate the whole lot of it! Not a scrap left on the plate! 
02:20hrs: As I came back to artificial life, from my nightmare filled sleep, I could clearly hear what I thought was a steam press. Somehow I thought I was still out of it and dreaming, cause the dream was about me being stuck in a giant steam press, with people fighting over who should activate the controls? But it soon became apparent that the noise was the World of Science baffling, ‘Hum’! 
I got the medications sorted, and returned to the main room and got the computer going. The tea had gone cold, so I went to make another, and decided to open the window again, to take a picture of the housing on view outside. Many lights were on in the dwelling, that caught me out for a second. I didn’t realise the time had flown so fast. I went back to the front room, forgetting to make a mug of tea!
But no more toe-stubbing at least! It’s been that long since I needed them, I had to think which of the tubes and tubs were for what ailment. Hahaha! The legs were looking somewhat paler than for a long time, but the Clopodogrel lumps and blotches were still absent, so my full-rate of bad luck hasn’t all come back yet. 
I got the nosh prepped. I’ve still not fully returned to my usual vacuous, yet tortured unrelenting state of mind. It feels all odd not fretting and panicking about anything. The return of Whoopsiedangleplopalising seems to have helped, in a distorted sort of way.