Thursday 23rd January 2020
Croatian: Četvrtak, 23. Siječnja 2020 Godine
00:00hrs: Not a good night. I may have been a little excited about getting out, and meeting all the residents in Sherwood, being insulted by Frank, nearly spoken to by Welsh William, told off by Jenny (but she does it so perfectly. Bless her!), and the bank visit farce. But getting and staying asleep, was again tricky. I spent the night waking every few minutes, at least it felt like that. I think I woke up more tired than I went to bed! When I say bed, I mean the chair. 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. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. As he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. Hehe!
It soon came to mind, that I needed to get yesterdays diary updated and a lot of photographs to be sorted first. Then, the Porcelain Throne Alarm arrived from the innards. I got out of the recliner with relative ease, apart from Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra and Anne Gyna, all being calm for me.
–
Off to the wet room. A messy affair in the extreme, a struggle to get started, a lot of product, pain and some bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. But I’ve had worse, so coped well. The cleaning up afterwards was a bind, I caught my knee against the Sock-Glide, which I’d left in a different place yesterday, so serves me right! The legs were looking a tad odd, with the different sizes of them, and some red marks on the shins? No toe-stubbing though, and that’s a sort of victory for me. Hehehe!
Off to the kitchen to take the medications, and make a brew. Which had to be abandoned. For as I was about to add the milk, a surprisingly-urgent call for a wee-wee came out of nowhere, and I hastened back to the wet room to satisfy the need. Well, I think I was in there so long, my hair had started growing again! What an odd wee-wee session, even for me. The lasered bladder wanted and did its best to start things going, but it took ages. Then the accompanying pain was unpleasant as it eventually began, and throughout. At best, a trickle or dribble, not even a stream. And talk about spraying out all over the place! With such lack of power behind the movement, how it managed to spread the spindrift-like splashes over such a wide area, and myself, I can’t work out. More cleaning and disinfecting had to be done.
Another mash of tea to replace the long-gone cold one. Took the medications, and had to get out the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-wee-Bucket). After using it for another excruciating ELWPP (Extremely-Long-Weak-Powerless-Painful) wee-wee, I placed it near the computer area for quick access. No doubts about it, today was going to be painful, tiring one, of repeated marathon wee-weeing! Humph! I shan’t keep mentioning them, too tiresome for you, other than they were persistent and prolonged!
I got the computer going, it was already 02:00hrs, and I’ve a lot of computerisationing to do today. A day indoors again! I got this blog started, and had to make-up the graphics first, hence the long-slog, I must get some done in advance (Graphics). Ah, the blogger’s life, it ain’t easy, and even worse when the blogger is a senile, pain suffering, uneducated ailment-ridden, old dimwit!
Life can be adiaphorous, worrying, testing and pointless all at the same time. Still, I’ve got plenty of painkillers and Gleghettie tea bags in stock.
I began to update the Wednesday post. And it wasn’t finished until gone 08:00hrs. Honestly!
I put some photographs and made a mug of tea. Dizzy Dennis kicked of again.
It’s 10:30 hrs already! I did a template ready. Then went of the TFZer Facebook. Then onto the WordPress reader.
The accompaniment of the Drilling and knocking from the Fire-Sprinkler installations chappies kept me entertained. I had a look outside at the weather. Not good!
I made a start on this diary at long last. The attentions of Dizzy Dennis were not helping me to concentrate.
Around 13:00hrs, the wearies came on, but oddly the dizzies sort of took my mind off of feeling to worn-out. I got caught up to here around 13:50hrs and decided I just have to try at least, to get some graphics done. So, back on to CorelDrawing!
I heard, what sounded like very close banging, and had to have a look. It was a bloke not using the either of the two bells I have, but banging on the door. As I opened it, I saw immediately that he was vexed at not getting an instant answer to his thumping of the door – this changed as soon as he saw me; “God, your looking ghost white, are you okay, Sir?” I was just starting to get a visit from Shaking Shaun, and Dizzy Dennis was still with me, so maybe I did look a bit poorly, but I wasn’t at all, just tired. He asked if I wanted him to call for an ambulance. Now I was concerned a tad! I replied that all was well, thanks. He put the box through the door, said, “You take care, old chap!” and off he went. I left the bix where it was, and went to have a look at my face, in the mirror. Hehe! Fair enough, it did look a bit unhealthily white. But I felt as I said, just suddenly so tired. Mmm?
I got back to the kitchen and checked the spuds and mushrooms, and put them on the keep warm setting.
Cleaned the glasses, and had another of the trickling super-elongated wee-wees.
Then to the computer, and the landline phone flashed. It was the Doctor’s surgery, to change the dosages again for the Warfarin. I thanked the lady for advising me and sat there looking at the computer, musing. ‘Well, I might be dead according to the delivery man… I can’t for the life of me remember how many Warfarins I took last night! Dizzy and Shaun were still playing with me. My fatigue was increasing. The drilling and banging was a comfort, though, I knew I was still alive every time they made me jump! I was not capable of doing the planned graphics, though. I turned off CorelDraw and got the oven on to bake the fish in.
Then felt all guilty for some reason, thinking at least I could do a couple of Thoughts or Detox Month ones. Then got CorelDraw back on. Being the hesitater, vacillator, waverer and great procrastinate I am, makes this understandable! I suppose?
I couldn’t concentrate though, gave up again.
Got the nosh sorted. Another changed decision. I had the chicken thighs I’d nearly forgotten about. Not a bad meal, but I was too tired to appreciate it fully. Flavour-rating; 6/10.
I turned on the TV and got a message that there was no digital input/signal found? Oh! So, I tried resetting the programs. It kept blanking out after finding a few channels? I tried again and chose West Midlands as the priority area, and a few channels were found, not all of them mind. Then hen I put the headphones on, a deafening crackling noise and pixelated pictures!
I had a checked on the internet and found this
. Well, no TV tonight then. I tried the radio channels, but they were cracking mumblings or broken singing/music. Ah-well!
I sat musing, which turned to worrying, then tried the TV again. Aha! The background noise had gone off, and eventually, the pixellating got far less.
I then wondered what I was doing anyway! I wasn’t going to be able to stay awake even if it all came good again. O chose a channel with sub-titles and fell asleep…
A dream, no, a nightmare storm ensued.
22:25hrs: I stirred, in somewhat of a bit of a puddled state. I thought I had only been asleep for a few minutes, I got the spectacles on and found I’d kipped for about four hours or so. I withdrew my excessively overweight, lardy-stomached body from the £300, grotty, second-hand, c1968 recliner. 
I grabbed the walking stick, and within three paces on my journey to the Porcelain Throne, I stubbed my toe on the hearth of the electric fire! As I was busy absorbing the pain and trying not to swear out loud, the ‘Hum’ became more and more noticeable and loud! Grangle-Grumps and Hoggledruids! That put an end to my plan to get my head back down after the evacuation, I was physically more awake now, at least! Haha!
I put the kettle on and moved the handwashing to above the heater. Then I realised I’d not taken the evening medications. So I did. 
a physical impossibility for someone of my plump stature, lack-of-height, physical limitations, ailments and old age, and I cannot get to see out and down, through these hideously-designed windows, like the old ones that we were happy with. That was before the two-year plus, two-million pound plus modernisation. That has left me with dangerous electrical sockets. Ruined carpets. New storage heaters Einstein would not understand how to use! That crumbling new balcony that the glass fogs up to block the view, windows in it that need a masters degree, the strength of Goliath and a first-aid-box at the ready before I dare try to open them! Hello, I wandered of the subject again. Sorry! 
Meeting up with Jenny ♥ and Frank, Doris, Margaret, Christine, Betty, Penny, Welsh William (who ignored me in his usual casual, but expert fashion), and some other Winwoodonians. We moved out to the bus stop, and much laughter, accusations, griping, verbal-sniping, insults, gossiping, put-downs, argle-bargle, and putting the world to rights was done and I enjoyed hearing it all. By gum, some days like today, it is a pleasure and honour to listen to the gang when they are in full verbalistical flow. I love it! 
annoyance at me. She gave me a card and stapled the time and date to it. Telling me that if I can’t get at that time, I’ve to ring ASAP the number on the card and inform them. I thanked her. 
I then spotted the piece of Nottinghamnian Street Art, beneath the cashpoint (ATM). Possibly an Alcoholic inspired display of an overrated takeaway meal? Tsk!
was nice to see him after so long. The girls at the flats have certainly missed him. This photo was taken a few years ago. In the temporary social and wardens cabin. Happy times, but it makes me realise how much I missed seeing Jenny and Cyndy every week. Hehe! We don’t go to the new Thursday social now. I wandered off the subject a bit there! John said he’d call on me later on. But he said that fourteen months ago when I met him in Carrington. It doesn’t matter though, he’s a popular and busy bloke, who’s helped me out so many times in the past. 
I popped into the shop, with the help again of Big John, who held the door open for me to get the three-wheeled walker-guide through the narrow doorway, bless him. 
Out and made my way up to the bus stop, across the pelican lights to the top of the hill. I have to say; I was in much better condition by then. The only ailment still giving me bother Dizzy Dennis, but, nowhere near as bad as earlier, hardly bothering me really, but the fact that he was still there, boded poorly for the evening. He is usually in the face or no there at all; he doesn’t often hang on like this. But hey-ho, I can cope with it if he doesn’t start spinning me. Like Prince Andrew, No sweat! Humorous, biting sarcasm sneaked in there! Hahaha! 
I got in the apartment and tried to concentrate the mind on what needed doing. The first thing was, I got the computer on and added the Banks appointment to the calendar. No excuse to miss it now! 
What an ambrosial feast! 
I stayed in the chair, wallowing in a sort of satisfied, happy stomached self-contentedness for ages, then forced myself to go and get the pots washed. 
I got the medications taken, pleased to see that I had not missed last evenings doses. Humph! And what an unreliable memoried Shlub I am! As usual, the ‘Hum’ was loud, with the odd tap-tap and gurgling noise. (Thrown in every now and then, up until 0500hrs?) Why, where from, what was making these noises, remains part of the mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, offering illusions, delusions, & hallucinations. Exasperated sigh! I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, no sooner made, than the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I shuffled, and still feeling in good nick, physically. 
I eventually got the blog done and posted off. I made another brew, this time Glenghetti, and ‘blow-me-down-with-a-feather-duster’, I needed the Throne again! All went well as the first visit did. I had time to check-out the pins (legs) and took a photo. Apart from being different sizes to each other again, they looked good to me, apart from the veins.
I had a look outside and photographed what looked like smoke from a fire in the dark. I took regular pictures for the next few hours of the City Hospital and area smoke. I’ve put them all here o the right, earliest shots down to the last one. 
Aha! The intercom rang and flashed. 
I never got around to doing any graphics in the end. Too drained now. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak and got a meal prepared. 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. 
I fumbled to find Little Inchy (it was cold this morning, so much so, I put the wall heater on in the wet room!), and spent a few minutes painfully releasing the long, drawn-out trickle! At last, it decided to stop! What’s going on here then? The entire wee-wee would have only filled a teacup if that! Yet, the sensation felt was one that things were going to burst forth like fireman’s hose. Ah, well!
I got everything cleaned and medicated, checked out the legs. They had undoubtedly lost a lot of colour and were getting back to their usual ‘Am-I-alive’ thought-prompting paleness. One leg, the left, seemed even whiter than the right one? The lumps, blotches, blood papules etc. had dissipated somewhat? Still, it makes for a bit of interest, doesn’t it?
I made up a photo, to show how I must have looked after I somehow or other, got the wet dressing gown to fall on me off of the coat-hangar it was drying on! I used it in the Sunday blog, but I show it again. 
Had to have a nibble and brew. I’ll have a hunt around, see worra can find… 
After the farewells and they had gone, and my balance had returned, I went to have a look at the work they’d done for me. 
I got off the bus at the terminus on Queen Street. Still feeling a bit high in spirits. (Yes, it worried me as well!) 
I paid at the self-serve tills. They were busy for a Monday, and the ‘Impatient stares’, Tut-tutting and grinding teeth from those behind me in the queue could be sensed, as I fumbled a bit. 
A lady assistant came to me in the end and whipped the last things through for me. Out and had a walk on the Slab Square. This gathering flock of pigeons. I could not see any food on the ground around them, though? The white ones could hardly be identified with the sunshine glinting 
on the settled rainwater.
Nottinghamians, that there was little smiling! 
s morning. 
I got distracted there again, sorry about that. 
I made my way up Queen Street, showing the long shadows of the citizenry in this snap. 
We were soon back at the flats, and I walked with Penny back through the link-passage to Woodthorpe Court, having a little chinwag en route. 
Got the meal planned, then I shifted the Morrison bananas from last week, from the cool spot to a warmer one. For they were still green! 
I got some chips into the oven, the last of the Kentucky coated ones. 
Then moved some things back into the cupboard under the sink. 
Then got the meal served up. The BLT Poundland sarnie and cut up a mini pork pie and added caramelised onion chutney, beetroots and some BBQ thingies on cocktail sticks. 
I got going on a funny ode that came to mind from nowhere. The incident dates back a few months. I was in town on South Parade, the rain took a nasty turn for the worse, and the heavens opened. I joined some others under the cover of the Starbucks coffee shop doorway. I was asked to move as my trolley was blocking peoples access, so, no problem, I hobbled away into the rain. I got the task done, with doing the graphics, it took me over three hours to get it something like right.
I started the Back-Pain-Brenda annoying task of emptying out the shelves under the sink, in readiness for tomorrows visit from the Nottingham City Homes plumber. But didn’t get very far, for two reasons, the agony from Brenda, and the clump on the chin I’d given myself bending down to get to the cleaning stuff! Hahaha, what a clot! 
Josie’s nosh was served up, and the dishes put in the sink to soak. Making the red Leicester cheesy-mashed-potatoes don’t-half make a mess of the mixing bowl, fork and spoon used! Onto the wheeled server, and out of the door, two paces and I was ringing her bells. (Hehehe!) We had a little natter, and she handed me a tray of leaf-salad, as a thank you.
The plastic and metal new ticker fitted. Duodenal Donald. Cancer of the bladder and prostate. Reflux Roger. Kidney Kevin. Arthur Itis. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Saccades Sandra, then the stroke; 
As I got in the foyer, I spotted that someone had been ornamentalisationing! A bit of decoration for us! I made sure that I did not go near the edge of the ledge, cut of but not painted shelf and pottery. 
over and broken! Tsk! Very pretty and easy on the eye, I thought. 
I took the medications, with an extra Codeine 30g, to counter Brenda’s bother. And reviewed the fodder situation. I was beginning to fade fast, and opted for a simple meal of rice and garden peas, with BBQ seasoning added. Which was not scintillating, but sufficient, considering the amount of food I’ve thrown away due to making the meals too large, was more than enough. Taste-rating; 7/10. 
23:30hrs: I have never woken-up so non-plussed, discountenanced, and feeling so wish-washy before in my life! (No… I tell a fib, when I came round after the heart operation it was worse!) 
I rose from 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. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. Then posted off his pools coupon and won a fortune, that complimented his £2010 grand Lottery win. He retired at 40, the windfall of being left £84,000 by an unknown relative enabled this. He’s a lucky lad. 
I checked out the blister-packs of tablets that arrived five-days late and forcing me to miss so many doses; from Carrington Pharmacy, 
I made the brew and took this mornings dosages. Ear-holes oiled, Saccades-Sandra drops put in, etc. all done. 
I’d love to get out and about again. But today, the Morrison order, the window cleaner and a chance of Leoni coming from the NHS Medicines Team (I hope Leoni does visit, then I can tell her of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Their late prescriptions and the Furesomide not being put separately as they had promised they’d be done!) Bitter? Me? Yes! And I still want to see the Doctor, (I will ask for some Anxiolytics, tell her about the dizzies and falling over, and hopefully other stuff if I can find the list I made two months ago), and I have to see the Bank Manager. Still bitter? Me? Yes! Well, pissed-off anyway!
Another interesting event! A record amount of dropsies I think this morning. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toothbrush pot, shaving foam can (2), razors (5), 
There’s a thought, I wonder if the Tate Gallery would be interested in some photos of… No, no, No! My Delphic nature and self-confidence are at a low enough level already, thank you.
I got them unpacked and checked the things out with the list from the internet.
Something, scheme, decision, plan, or flimflam-stratagem was formulating, brewing inside my head as I put away the fodder. But the brain wasn’t letting on to me what it was! Well, that how it is when you have a high EQ and the lowest IQ. Hopefully whatever is maturing in the head, will reveal itself shortly.
I must try to do some of the smoked haddock for tonight’s nosh. I already had some normal mushrooms in the fridge, so I got them in the crock-pot cooking. I might have them with the haddock, potatoes and garden peas, perhaps. It depends on when the window cleaner arrives. 
I got to the lift lobby and was just about to press the call button, and both head-lights went out indicating the death of the elevators! Well, if that doesn’t represent my unfortunate nature, I don’t know what will. Humph! Then it dawned on me, today is the upgrading work by the Mansells Fire Sprinkler team. Ah, well! A touch of pragmatism had attached itself to me, and no-hassle or annoyance rose at all. 
23:40hrs: After failing to get back to sleep in hopes of returning to a fantastic dream I was having, I gave up trying to get any meaningful sleep in. I kick-started the stubbornly reluctant brain into a semi-working state and thought-through the upcoming day’s conditions, needs, prospects, and fears. The stomach pains were still with me, but nowhere near as bad as they were last night. The strange stabbing pains in the right knee will be tested when I escape the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner. 
The serious stuff needed sorting, as best I could anyway. I wrote down these reminders as they came to mind on the pad where last night, I had scribbled notes about the dream, cause I saw the funny side of things for the first time for ages;
The bête noire of removing my bloated, blubbery, bulky, beetling-bellied body from the recliner, was done with a certain amount of nervousness and tension, as I rose to my feet, to test out the knee-cap. 
pertension Herbert), and a loose yellow capsule, I think was a Lansoprazole (Duodenal Donald). No Codeine 30g, Bisoprolol (Betablocker-Ticker), Atorvastatin (Liver), Furosemide (Water retention) or Ranitidine (Reflux Roger) left to use. I do hope they arrive today! 
I gave the Arthritic knees a good rubbing in of Fenbid Forte gel. 
croak-out before the beta-blocker tablets get here, I, like Harry Houdini, the Hungarian-born American illusionist and stunt performer, would love to come back and get my revenge! Mind you, he failed! Hahaha!
I got the handwashing seen to, done, wrung and hung. Only a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of socks.
and Brute sprinkled about.
I got the pan of baked beans and added some of the tikka things to it. No, chicken satay, I pulled them off the sticks and added them to the beans. 
23:25hrs: I bestirred reluctantly and was feeling terribly depressed, confused, and uncomfortably disorientated. The immediate problem was my uncertainty of whether or not I had really lost the blister-pack of medications. How had I got things so wrong as to run-out of beta-blockers, water-tablets, and Simvastatin amongst other important tablets? A lack of self-confidence and self-hatred came through to join the worries and fears for me to stew over. I actually felt sick, not physically, but inside. No help yet either, and this after two tablet-less days! 
And despite the rumbling innards, it was a most decent session. The dropsies were no more than four, no shaving cuts, toe-stubbings, or banging into or knocking anything over. Why even the sock-glide battle failed to produce any blood-blisters, bruises or blood! The EQ warned me not to get too excited, though? This brought the Panic-Depression-Defcon back to Three. Hehehe!
The pins looked pretty good, got some colour back as well. Fair enough, they are a little fluid retaining at the moment. 
bags to the waste chute on the way out. I’ll see ILC, Ballet-Dancer, Hauptsturmfuhreress Warden Deana, to see if she had found anything out from the Chemist or Bank from me. 
I plodded through the link-corridor into Winwood Court and made my way to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation and Body Search Office. All three gals were in there today.
