Sunday 12th January 2020
Welsh: Dydd Sul 12fed Ionawr 2020
23:00hrs: I woke, with a frustrationalisticness, due to my not being able to recall the dream I’d been having, but had the idea that I wanted to, so I could mention it on this blog. Ah, well, no idea what it was about!
I lay for a short while, considering my few remaining options in life. My bucket list, and needs, hopes and inspirations. Plans for the future. Desires and needs! This took me about two minutes!
I began to reluctantly wrench out my dilapidated, somewhat flabby-bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis immediately complained in his usual fashion and stung me with some pain-giving twinges. I got up into a semi-perpendicular stance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
As soon as I pressed the power button, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, urgently! Again, it was a close call getting there in time, and what a session this was! Bloody, messy and most uncomfortable. For a description of the evacuated dollop, think a torpedo-shaped long bale of hay! Cricky, I’m glad now that I didn’t eat much of last night’s meal! I might stil
l be sat on the Throne now if I had! Certain areas needed sanitising and medicating, with TLC! Had a wash and back to make the brew.
With the struggle in passing, I mixed a sachet of the Macrogol first.
Then made the brew and took the medications.
To the computer, and started things off with the updating of Saturday post.
As I began typing, a few things became apparent to me. Saccades Sandra was going to give 
me some hassle. Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me. And I had some new growths to join the old one, on the right hand! They came out almost orange in the photograph? Not a lot surprised me nowadays with the ever-changing ailments. But this did.
The updating took less time than usual, as I had condensed things, in an effort to spend less time on the computer, and get some cleaning up done and much needed rest. I got it finished and posted off. Then went to make another mug of tea. As well as the photo above, I took a couple of pictures of the view from the unwanted, light & view-blocking new windows.
The first one through the opened window, the second from inside. As the rain was soaking me through with the window open.
Back to the computer and…
Then…
The wee-wees had been persistent all morning, so I went for yet another. Most of them were in the LBRWS (Long-But-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) mode.
While waiting for Liberty-Global Virgin Media to return on-line, I went to tidy up the kitchen (Gawd, it needed it!) and make yet another drink.
I went to get out next weeks medicine tray and realised that there wasn’t one, I’d just used up my entire supply? I rather hope the new ones will be delivered today!
Life is something that tests one’s patience, especially people like medical patients! Haha!
Back to the computer, and Liberty-Global internet was back on, but fluctuating between slow and dead-slow, now!
I went on the WordPress Reader. Then posted some Pinterest photographs. And yet another urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived. This time it 
was an even-closer shave to making it to the seat in time! I took a very poor, although I didn’t realise it at the time, snap of the knees. With Arthur Itis giving me such bother, I expected they would be all bloated and warped, but no, they seemed okay to me? Hey-ho!
I made a start on this blog for a while (with many wee-wee and Saccades Sandra delays). Then decided to try to write an ode I’d been thinking of while doing this blog, but had forgotten what it was about! Humph!
I was suddenly hungering and hankering for something to eat for brekkers. I made a mug of Thompsons best tea and had a packet of salt & vinegar Chipsticks, the last jam tart and a bar of orange club biscuit! Followed with a few cashew nuts. But not a lot!
Then decided to get the ablutions done, as it was gone the witching-hour of 08:00hrs. I had a change of plans (I’m well-known for this, you know, Hehe!) and decided to take the black bags to the chute. Then down with the recyclable carrier and carrier of glass for the small bin. I chanced to take them down, using just the walking stick.
And I was doing well until I got into the three flats hallway and a visit from Dizzy Dennis was suffered. I didn’t go down or anything dangerous, but I did drop the bag of empty glass jars and bottles! None broke either, but the noise they made, has most likely made me as popular with the other tenants, as Nigel Farage would be at the Liberal Party Conference! Humph!
I pointlessly whispered an “I’m sorry!” And carried on into the lift and down and outside with the bags. It dawned on me; I had not taken the two black bags to the chute! It was raining and windy out there, so I got the job done as quickly as I could to avoid getting soaked and returned to Woodthorpe Court with the rubbish-bags. Remembering this time, to deposit the black bags in the waste chute, and avoid clouting my head on the lid this time. Which I did! Smug-Mode Adopted!
– Back to the flat, and tackled the ablutionalisational duties. A few dropsies and it went pretty well for me until it came to the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle. Two trapped fingers, on for each sock, both forced me into a 
quietly uttered few words of an intemperate nature. I also noted while in the shower, (apart from not, I say Not, dropping the soap or showerhead), that the tiles on the wall were getting a tad grimy looking.
The pins had changed a little. The ankle swelling had gone down a lot.
Signs of Venous Insufficiency, and spider, femoral veins were slowly coming back a little more prominently.
Thankfully, Arthur Itis was seemingly easing off somewhat too.
So I got out the Mildew and Mould sprays and created a cunning plan! Oh, yes! I would sit on the shower stool and reach down to the lower tiles, and stand on it, to reach the higher ones. Good eh? The very moment I hit the floor after falling out of the chair, I knew this was not going to work after all! I struggled back on my feet and applied some Phorpain Gel on the elbow and shin. Buenos Dias! Int’ life a gas? Hehehe! I withdrew from the Mildew-removal activities area, and guess what?
Porcelain Throne duties No.3 were needed! A good job I was so close to the WC bowl, as things moved along fast and almost caught me out again, a sort of self-starting and finish when the innards felt they were ready to, session! However, a third-variety of evacuation followed. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain, the enormity of the released product seemed less this time. It’s a busy day for a Sunday!
The rain seemed to have stopped, but the sun was in and out a bit regular, so I left the lights on. I nipped out quickly (quickly, hahaha!), to go on the rooftop of Winwood Court, to try and catch some photographs while the sun was shining.
Huh! another change of plans. I just remembered that I have no tablets left! So I rang the Pharmacy, without realising it was ‘Sunday’, what an idiot! I’ve got enough Warfarin and Simvastatin for today, but desperately short of Codeine. So, somehow tomorrow, I’ve got to call the chemist and find out what’s happening, and also see the Bank Manager. Hang on, there’s Mo’s funeral to go to on Monday! I’m getting all confused, sad, and going on a downer now!
Still, Josie’s nosh to be prepared yet. How can one go from so high to so low in an instant? I’d better make a start. I noticed while getting Josie’s nosh prepared, that the odd orangey-red marks on the right hand had disappeared or dissipated altogether? But the two older scars 
were still there? I baked on smoked haddock-cheese and potato rissole a little longer today. Put some of the Tuna with mayonnaise and sweetcorn on for another trial for her. Sliced tomato, mushrooms and garden peas. A can of Gin & Tonic, and a limoncello dessert top round it off. Makes it a bit of a change for her to try. I hope she likes the new stuff. I delivered it spot on the usual time, as anyone who is a personal chef should do. Hehe!
I got back inside, and Shaking Shaun had a go at me. Left me in a bit of a dodgy condition as I plated my own nosh, Dizzy Dennis joined in the ‘Let’s-get-at-Inchcock’ session.
To be frank, memories after this part of the day, do not exist. But I woke later in the evening, panicking.
Went to get the ablutions done. What farcicalness! I took the PPs off ready, and blood was all over them from the crotch area. 
. 
I got the fodder out of the bags and checked to see what had been substituted. To my pleasant surprise. No, amazement, there were no substituting at all! 
But, as usual, there was a problem with the delivery. Three things actually. 
With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph! 
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications. 
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph! 
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
Then off to the kitchen, where the ‘Hum’ was distinctly louder. I took the medications and made a brew. Then snapped this shot from the light & view-blocking, finger trapping new window. No moon was showing this morning, and worryingly it was drizzling and windy out there today. Mmm! 
The sock-glide altercation was the most disturbing. I knocked it off of the seat, and it landed on the freshly stubbed on the metal support bar toe! Which left me in pain for the rest of the day. 
I got to the self-serve tills, and the lady put the things through for me, bless her. I was soon out and back on Upper Parliament Street. I tried the camera, and it took this picture first press of the button! It looks like what it was, dark, damp and depressing. Haha! 
I made my way to and down Clumber Street and arrived at the EE shop. But it was not open yet. So I hobbled, balancing the bag on the trolley with aplomb and style, I walked back up to the Victoria Centre (Mall), deciding to go to Tesco, to get some more treats for the Royal Family. And perhaps see if I can get a cheap camera that runs off of standard batteries. I made my way through the centre to Tesco and bought them some seaweed, puff pastry fingers and got myself some liquid soapflakes. Paid the lady, resorted the bags on the trolley, and walked back toward the top entrance. 
The Highnesses seemed happy enough to allow my standing up during the visit. Well, it saved any germs or dirt getting on the chair from my trousers! 
Now, the 40 bus was 25 minutes to wait for. I hobbled down Queen Street to the slab square. I took a snap of the Council House, showing the clock above Little John’s bell. Amazed that the battery let me make the picture, and it came out decent? I’m confused about this, I hope the camera is not going wrong.
brakes. I got off on Winchester Street, a kind chap monitored me getting off, in case any help was needed. 
The walk up to the flats had never been more uncomfortable. Just the feet and Arthur Itis’s knees were bothering me but on a grand scale! Hehe! The mysteries of the camera! The dead battery, according to the message on the screen, it still let me take two more photographs on Chestnut Walk? The colouring was nothing like what it was to the naked eye, though. 
The meal was enjoyable, despite
23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…
Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.
I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.
Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.
Unfortunately, en route, I tripped on the curled up bit of carpet edging, lost my balance, and ended up on the floor, via the electric fireplace and the clothes dryer – and squashing the wooden walking stick in my rib-cage! But nonetheless, the need for the Porcelain Throne prevented any self-pity or rolling around in agony. The fear of an accidental release was too intense for me to mope! I rose like a right-hero (well I thought so), with the assistance of the solid recliner arm, and continued on my way for the evacuation. 
I noticed after cleaning up, that the difference in the size of the legs, was more marked as well. They appeared really odd to me. And much paler than of late, but less pot-marked. I assume the odd mark above the knee was from the earlier Whoopsiedangleplop.
I had to stop doing the post, so I could get the ablutions done before the Ocado delivery came. The dropsies were not no worse than normal, only two little cuts shaving. 
I took another shot of them in case the first one had got warped somehow or other. The mark on the knee was a bit tender when I pressed it. So I suspect it is just a welt or bruise coming up. 
Glegettie Gold tea. Superb!
I said a thank you, but I don’t think he heard me properly. 
The King roasted cheese cashews nuts, must have been expensive? I’ll look up the price of them up on the web. Crickey, I paid £3.30 for 120g of them! How much does that make them for a pound? Never mind, I can’t work that out! But did the Sensory nerve-damaged fingers order them? I don’t think the brain did! Hahaha! No, I meant Soddit! Still, how much was Venison Burgers? Ah, they were half-price at £1.65, I could well have meant to get them then. I downloaded the well-hidden receipt, and found that the Chilli bean, Irish Butter and the smoked ham were all substitutions! Never again, will I trust Ocado; they can go on the list of (worst first) Tesco, Iceland, Ocado, Amazon and Morrisons as the most-rotten apples in the orchard of retailing! 
I took a shot of the rainy view outside, from the open kitchen window as I made another brew, in between two successive wee-wees! 
for the t-shirt. 
went to check the bags ready to take to the waste chute later had not leaked and found the parcel with the t-shirt in it, had been squashed through the letterbox! I had only looked at the tracker minutes ago, so I got the computer back on and looked again, and it said delivered. ‘Posted Through letterbox’! 
I opened the package. A most disappointing purchase, dead thin material, no wonder it said quick-drying on it. Tsk! Never mind. 
The oven was heated. The mushrooms in the crock-pot and peas and potatoes in the saucepan were turned down to low. I sprayed some oil on the oven dish tray and got the burgers warming up. 
After keeping a careful eye on the foods, they came together cooked, and I got the feast onto the plate. Sliced tomato, new potatoes, garden peas, and mushrooms. The two wholemeal baps were a perfect size for me to eat the venison as beefburgers. I liberally dowsed the meal with caramelised onion chutney.
burgers at half-price were worth it, but I wouldn’t pay full price for them. 
The knees and legs looked a tad more colourful than of late. With the Clopidgrel lumps returning. But the blood papules and all veins were looking calm. I did have a new small purplish-blue blotch on the inner of the right leg that might turn into something that the Tate Gallery might be interested in as it develops? Haha!
Washed and creamed, medicated things, and back to make a brew and take the medications. 
As I was changing to WordPress to start the updating of the Sunday post: 
Brekkers was corn flakes with a jam tart and mint bikkies with a mug of the very bestest brew, Glenghettie Gold. And it was so good!
A
I got the shoes on and went to start the flat checks, taps, lights, etc. before leaving. As I went into the kitchen, I tripped on the raised door-stopper, and tumbled knees first onto the floor! After a few moments of annoying verbal responses, I struggled to bet back up, painfully onto my pins. 
It turned out that the reason for the Whoppsie was that the velcro on the shoes, had stopped sticking altogether? I tried my best to get them to work without any success. So, into the bin, they were dispatched. After I applied dollops of Phorpain Gel, well rubbed in, I tried the other pair of shoes, but the velcro on them was not exactly reliable? What’s going on? 
I’ll mention it again to the 
I proceeded in an Easterly direction (hehe!) along the link corridor, towards the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinator’s), Wardens. Interrogation Office, hopefully, to remind them off the open external door, again. 
lady’s hairdresser salon that cheered me up a bit. I like it when folks are happy, a rarity nowadays. No luck in finding any ICL, so I went into the Winwood Court Social Area, and had a go at the crossword book puzzles. 
ind seemed less vicious in the City Centre.
I crossed over later and stopped to take this snap of the crowds in Clumber Street. The Nottinghamians appeared in a slightly better, less down-in-the-mouth mood today, and Pavement Cyclists were noticeable by their absence? 
I got the things in the bags evenly weighted, and off through the square towards the bus stop. 
At the bottom of Queen and King Streets on my way up to the bus shelter, I spotted this chap in his mini-street cleaner, taking a rest and break. It looked like a new vehicle. I wonder if they sell them one at a time? I could use the recharging facility on Chestnut Walk? Just a thought. Hahaha!
I got up to the L9 bus stop. Not many folks around today? And none got on en route back to Winwood Heights. I fought against falling asleep all the way. But the driver helped me, by his imitating Nigel Manson with his driving. Thus, I had to stay awake to concentrate on not being tipped out of the seat on each corner!
In the lift and up, out and int
and found the chips I’d forgotten about having. They were called Truffle Fries and looked almost pale-green in colour when I opened the packet. It had bits of what looked like black pepper spread over them. And had a smell that I’ve never sniffed before to them. I was in two-minds (As usual, though!) about whether I 
should try them or not? I had a look at the ingredients list on the bag: Potatoes, sunflower oil, Black Truffle & Sea Salt, Dried parsley etc. I don’t even kno
Oh, boy, how I managed to keep my hands off of them I don’t know. The aroma of the pate was tempting me to eat them straight away. But, being a good boy, I resisted. Hah-ha! 
Then, I just think I might have fallen asleep as I was actually getting into the recliner, cause I can’t remember anything after that? 
I foolishy allowed myself to get into a Smug-Mode, thinking how well I’d coped with the injury and sorting out the WC system. Putting the things back on top of the tank, and the autonomic nerves let me down again, and I dropped the clock from my grasp. I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you, where it ended up landing? Great Jehosaphat! Please, not another Whoopsiedangleplop day like yesterday? I beg! 
Then I got the Inchcock’s ingestible ingredients served upon the plate. Crispy cheesy potatoes, beetroot, mushrooms, peas, tomatoes and some delectable tasting Mushroom pate; which I put inside wholemeal bread thins to eat, with the pate, sliced tomatoes and caramelised onion in them, to give it an almost perfect twang! 
Taking off my jammy bottoms, was a little akin to a Bull-in-China-shop! Humph! I knocked the following, although it might have been more, but, I can recall that two cans of body spray, the kitchen towel, my scissors, the Germoloid and the Clobetasone cream, and the crossword book and pen, all tumbled off onto the floor. The pen went down the back of the cabinet, so will probably be found after I have snuffed it. I managed to retrieve the other stuff, much to the annoyance of Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis! Tsk! 
did the teeth, only dropping the brush and toothpaste once each. Then the nasal spray. Moved on to shaving, and the foam can went twice, and the razors repeatedly, so much so, that I decided to do flannel wash first, hoping the Peripheral Neuropathy would have calmed down a bit, and the nerve-end would be working a bit better by then. The flannel went a couple of times out of my grip, as did the carbolic soap. 
got back to shaving, I have to say I felt a bit a Smug and Clever Mode come over me. For the dropsies had reduced tremendously as the nerve-ends were getting the message to the brain at last! I moved up to a Sycophantic-Smarmy-Mode
went to get the handwashing finished. I got it done and wrung, but a problem when I started to get it hung! The flaming hangar that I use for the jammie-bottoms, shattered into pieces! 
Shortly afterwards, the Iceland man cameth. I mentioned the substitutes and he told me, nothing to do with me, you should have an email, sort it with them, not me! I signed for the goods and he shot off like Mr Bolt, only quicker! Haha! It was plain to me, that Iceland was forever letting folk down, and some customers were blaming the delivery men?
nt through from the warmth of Windwood Court into the bitterly cold Woodthorpe, a ladies voice called asking if I was alright, it was Chrissie (I think), with some bad news. Mo in the hospital had passed away. This put me in a right bad frame of mind, and I nearly had a cry for Mo, she was a right character, we all liked her so. 
I decided to get the things ready for the meal later. The first thing was to get the mushrooms in the slow cooker. I added some sea salt and a splash of the Sukang Puti vinegar. This Malaysian made brewed vinegar is so tangy. 
Mmm! 
I reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to get the plastic jar of demerara sugar to add some to the peas and spuds! 
I got the oven warming and when it heated enough, I put some smoked haddock and a battered whiting fillet in and watched over it cooking. I dare not keep an eye one it, after today’s series of mishaps. I carefully got the plate filled with feast-like foods, and when I got around to taking a photographicalisation of it, Shaking Shaun shunted into this Saturday’s shenanigans.
