04:00hrs. I woke and got out of the £300 second-hand, gungy-beige, tatty, c1968, sometimes operating, rickety recliner. Stood up and walked without any stick, to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket), had an RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee), then thought I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, which I did need. But no sooner had I settled on the Throne, I realised that this was to be failed session! I got the clue from the solid-mass within, just not moving, and the pain from the effort to encourage it too! Haha! I gave up, got the feeling that much blood would be lost it I tried any harder, and a lot of time would be spent just sitting and waiting.
So, I decided to take some Senna tablets with the new medications later, that Deepak had delivered, all potted-up for me last night. Conveniently at a time that was an hour beyond the getting-my-head-down-time!
I had another RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee). Not the easiest of wee-wees!
Then got the hand-washing done. Just a t-shirt and a pair of bamboo socks. I got them washed, rinsed, and drying on the hanger and airer.
I spotted the ever-growing white patch on the front f the shirt near the bottom. Another Woodthorpe Court Flat 72 mystery!
Come think of it, I suppose it is where I spilt some bleach on it?
The water was slowly draining away again. Not as bad as the wet room sink, though. That is really slow, despite my buying and using the drain unblocker every day for weeks!
Then I tended to the health checks. Sys 155, Dia 55, Pulse 95, and Temperature at 35°c.
I used the first of the newly delivered compartmentalised medications. I must remember in future to add Senna and Warfarin at night.
Then another visit, with some trepidation, to the Porcelain Throne. This time the evacuation started. Got stuck half-way, and after some agonising encouragement, the movement was completed! Oy Vey!
I could see the lights around the Sherwood Health Centre, where I was due to go for the Podiatrist visit later on. I took a snap of it from the unwanted, light & view-blocking, too many panes of glass to clean, can’t see below due to the wide outer ledge, kitchen window.
I got the computer on and did a graphic for the page top and Thought of the day, on CorelDraw.
Then started to update the Thursday Diary. I was well-pleased with fingers, hand, arm, and shoulder’s lack of dancing about. But aware this could and probably would change later. (Unfortunately, I was right!) A lot to get through, but I’d mate some notes last night as a reminder, and they were invaluable to me.
Time to tackle the ablutions. So put the computer in sleep mode, and set about getting things ready.
No sooner had I done the teggies and put the shaving cream on the face; the damned hand, fingers, shoulder and arm started doing their involuntary Hokey-Cokey come corroboree dancing routine! At one stage, I had to stop and just wait for things to settle down. Luckily a few minutes later, it was just the fingers that were jumping about. I dropped the razors twice, facecloth once and the soap three times. I even let the flipping drain unblocker bottle slip when I had to use it again! Most agrannoying, Phwert!
The toenails were looking almost, erm, what’s the word I was going to use? Ah, well, another attributive and predicative adjective lost in the ether. I think!
After some hurry-scurrying about, readying things for the trip to the Health Centre and trying to make sure that things were not forgotten to take etc. I departed. Knocking on Josie’s door as I left, no answer. Took two bags to the waste chute, and out on the mini-walk to the podiatrist.
The three-wheel-trolley guide was taken with me. On the walk up the gravel hill into Woodthorpe Grange Park, I sadly realised that I could not have a walk through the tree copse. However, I stopped and carefully took a few short paces under the overhanging trees at the side of the walkway. An almost petrichor aroma lingered, and I enjoyed the few minutes under the trees.
Up onto the footpath in the Grange, I saw that a fair of some sort was getting readied on the bottom football field. I hope that the fights and vandalism of Woodthorpe Court that took place last year, are not repeated again. The Security men and police must think the same thing. As far as I know, no one was arrested or charged. The young yobboes were under age apparently they tell me.
I took this photo and then turned left down the short pathway, that comes out onto the Rise.
I gingerly plodded down the hill and right to the end of Elmswood Gardens. This three-wheeler is not keen on going downhill. Haha!
Shame about the steps on the corner. I could not manoeuvre my way up them, so I went up and right into the Health Centre.
The young lady in the reception was charming and had a sense of humour. I showed her my paperwork and asked her where the podiatry dept was. She pointed out a sign for the podiatry sign that was behind me. I said; “Ah, that’s a good clue!” She smiled, and I went and took a seat in the waiting area. A chap came and sat opposite me. I gave him an acknowledging smile, said, “Good morning!” to him. In return, I got an up and down look and a sneer. But he may have been hard of hearing, so no offence was taken.
A rather pleasing to the eye, lady fetched me into her treatment room. She went through my history and asked a few questions of me. She was soon getting me on the coach and testing the toes reactions. The result was not good, but she then got the nails clipped for me, while, I am glad to say, having a natter. She told me the toe-cutting lady can be booked every eight or ten weeks. Then saw me out and I went to the reception and asked if it was possible for her to book me an appointment for eight weeks time. She tried for me, but they can only do six weeks in advance. So suggested I call in when passing, and make an appointment then, in a couple of weeks. She said she would phone for me then. Very kind of her. I thanked her and made my way up Elmswood Gardens, towards Mansfield Road to catch the bus.
On the way, I stopped to take a photograph of a white flower and some buds. I’ve no idea what it was, but it looked so beautiful! I had to be patient and wait for the wind to stop long enough for me to take the shot.
Which hand to be done with the left hand, as the right one was doing its dancing again.
As I started to grab the trolley to walk on, I spotted this whatever it is, that had firmly attached itself to a succulent leaf. Again, I had to be calm and wait for the wind to cease for a little.
As I started off again, I realised I was getting some gobsmacked looks from two blokes behind me. One said (I think), “Was it worth it?” I’m not sure what he meant? But he didn’t look in a very good mood?
I made my way to the bus stop on Mansfield Road and found a fellow tenant and wonderfully pleasant, Doris sat in the shelter. We had a super-duper gossip, and we nearly missed the bus! The driver recognised us and stopped! Haha! That could have been a right disaster!
I walked down Chestnut Way with Doris, we were still nattering. When we got to the foyer doors, she pointed out some newly laid grass, that had been destroyed by a lorry backing up onto it, she said.
We got into the lift, and on the fifth floor, I nearly forgot to hand Doris her bag I was carrying for her from the bus. And she missed her level! I did feel the right Klutz! But she was alright with me. Shame-Mode-Adopted! She had come up with me, and go down again to her floor! Tsk!
I called to see Josie on the way in the apartment, and she answered. And was looking far better than the other day. Yee-Haa! I checked if she would still like a meal tomorrow, and she said yes. I asked what time she fancied it. She was going out later, so asked for 12:00hrs. No problem I said, and after a little chat, I got in the flat.
I had a wee. Then took a photo of the damaged turf from the unwanted new balcony, out and down and to the right. The new car park was in full use.
The metal spring release grip, on the degree-needing, to operate, new unwanted balcony end window, that requires pushing and pulling at the same time, defeated me! I could not manage to get it open! But at least I avoided any injuries this time.
To get the picture of the lawn below, I had to open one of the finger-trapping other windows, and hang out and to the right; during which the walking-stick slid from where it was rested in the corner, and came down smack-on the poor old much stubbed right toe! I said to myself under my breath, “Well, fancy that!”
I began computerisationalisticalisationing again for a couple of hours. Took the medications, got the nosh served up and eaten, (A flavour rating of 6/10) and readied myself to watch the France v USA soccer match.
I fell asleep. Waking up for the end of the match! Huh! But at least America won, now England they face England, on Tuesday 2nd July. I will have to try not to support the USA team, this time. The fact that they won, I believe was down to me reporting of the situation with the crooked avaricious FIFA shower of pocket-lining leaders, who cheated big-time to let France win the World Cup against Croatia, and got away with it, that I wrote yesterday! Hahaha!
I felt a bit of life returning uninvited, and any more sleep was not an option at this time.
So I got the hand-washing done, rinsed, rang-out and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, really. Hehehe!
Amazingly, I found I needed another visit to the Porcelain Throne. Two a day now for a Thursday and today I reckon. This is rare for me. As was this session. The usual hard and bloody effort, and change in colouration to a sort of khaki?
I was feeling like something to pick-me-up nibble-wise. So got one of the Asda cheap iced lollies from the freezer. The stick in the lolly having been frozen out of position, although not earth-shattering, still made me smile.
I suffered a bad mind-wandering-pestering session as I tried to get back to sleep. I calculated that dozens of fears, worries, concerns and things to over, fleeted through the grey-cells. I even got agitated over how to do Josie’s Cheesy potatoes in the morning? Not that it bothered me much, just confused me as to why?
02:00hrs. I woke with the mind filled with, what’s the most suitable word? Dread, I think! Fear of the long haul to town on the £2.30 bus trip and slog through town and up the fearsomely steep Standard Hill to the Audio Clinic, I think. Ah well! The note I’d left to remind me on the TV screen helped!
I was soon out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, grotty-beige, rickety-recliner. Intent on getting the updating done to the diary before having to go out. The thought of the medications being delivered while I was not in, with my only having one beta-blocker tablet left! Meaning I will have to go to the doctors after the Audio Clinic, to find out what’s what. This didn’t help me get much peace of mind.
I got the hand-washing done, just a t-shirt and a pair of bamboo socks. Took the medications, did the health checks, and made a brew.
Straight on with the updating. The axonotmesis-driven electricityfied-dancing in the fingers, hands, arm, and shoulder, were not too bad first thing, Phew! So progress was reasonable this time with the blog. I got the job done and posted.
Made a start on this blog (between wee-weeing). Checked the bus times on Google, then got the ablutions tended to, as it was now gone 06:00hrs! All done and dusted, cutlessly, too!
I made up two waste sacks and took them down and out with me to the caretaker’s door, as it was only 07:12hrs, and too early to sue the chute yet. There was no time for photographicalisationing this morning, or I might miss the number 40 bus. I’d got it all planned out (I think I might have thought this before, Humph). The right bus fare in my pocket knew the times of the bus, I had 14 minutes to get to the stop. I arrived with for minutes to spare. Smug-Mode-Adopted.
It was a struggle on this bus to town. So many people were getting on, the trolly in the way, folks treading on and into me. I was so glad when we got into town, and I could get off of the bus last, as usual. I hobbled down Queen Street into Slab Square. I avoided a collision with a Nottinghamian Pavement cyclist as I got there. I was just about to take a photo of the two coffee robbers across the square. Came out a bit blurred, though.
Crossing the square to get to the Poundland Store (surely this time they will have some large Pork Farms pies or Payne’s chocolate Brazil misshapes in stock?). But no, they didn’t. However, I invested in: black bags, bleach, drain unblocker, cans of chilli-con-carne, an egg & bacon sandwich, and some more Ginsters beef pasty’s. The lady at the self-serve tills put them through for me and packed my bags. What an angel! As I left the store, some pigeons came down, the instant I dropped some nuts on the floor as I was taking the bag out of my pocket. There were not many left, but I lost them all! Still, the dickies benefited. Maybe they have learned that the bags can be dodgy from the Poundland shop, and other people have done the same? Haha!
I then carried out the plan, being as I had time if I didn’t take too long over it, to walk along and up Hounds Gate, and taking pictures along the way up.
I plan to make a post of these, with some funny comments, and get it posted off later, before updating this blog. Which I did! Which I did.
I turned right at the end of Hounds Gate, up Maid Marion way, previously known, when I worked at Tesco on the road, as Granby Street.
Getting over the traffic light crossing, at the junction with Friar Lane had its moments, I can tell you! I wasn’t (not that I ever do nowadays, going quickly) and needed time set the three-wheeled trolley guide down on a different level, the moved… the cross-lights were on green, and a naughty taxi shot around the corner! Tsk! Naughty!
I walked an alternate way to the Audio Clinic today, up Friar Lane, then Standard Hill, so I could take some photos of the Castle. I was amazed to see they were still working on it.
The Castle entrance still blocked off!
Then I hobbled up Standard Hil, again, I was threatened by an ignorant, uncaring, supercilious, cyclist. A self-asserting, insolent, toploftical, mocking, unlawful, sneering, huffish, nasty, overweening, pompous, discourteous and unhospitable, none-tax paying and uninsured, but handsome looking young Nottinghamian Pavement cyclist.
Near St James Terrace, I looked down at the view of the town and recalled this was where the last series of Boon was made. Just a thought!
To the end of Postern Street and left up to the top of Park Row, and on to the Ropewalk. A builder’s vehicle at the top, had me beat as to what it could be? Caterpillar tracks it had on it? Perhaps it is to get the wax out of me right ear-hole? Don’t know why I said that; it isn’t even funny. Am I losing it again?
I got in the clinic, and the chap who spoke to me about the appointment yesterday greeted me a shake come nod of the head, no words, mind. It dawned on later him that he’d seen me before. I gave him my appointment book, and he spoke (Yes!) He said; “I thought I recognised your limp!” I had to smile! Hehehe!
Within minutes a nurse, no, an audiologist, came and collected me and took me in her treatment room. A pleasant lady. She rechecked my ears for wax. And asked if I thought the ears (hearing) had got any worse since the stroke? I said not. The test was carried out, and there was no need for any changes. I mentioned the other lady who told me I need new inserts to stop the shrill-squealing. She said not so, all it required was the wax removing. If it builds up again, please call us and arrange for it be removed.
I departed after thanking her.
Now the new replacement worry was the medications and having only one beta-blocker left at home. So off to the Doctors again to beg and plead for some help (again).
Down Standard Hill, across Maid Marion Way and along Upper Parliament Street to the bus stops where I can catch a bus to the surgery.
Closed shops galore
Closed shops galore
And Pavement Cyclists too!
I caught a number 58 bus, and boy was that packed with passengers as well! (although compared the one I got later on, from Carrington to Sherwood, it was almost empty!)
I alighted in Carrington and limped over the road and up to the Sherringham Park Medical Surgery, and spoke with the receptionist, hoping she could advise me. She got a list of my medications out from a draw and was confused herself as to why I had had them delivered from the chemist yet. They had the date of Monday 1 July as the next delivery date? But I was short on supplies. And only the one Bisoprolol beta-blocker left. For the first time in my life, I lost it a little!
I suppose I’d got myself all worked up and said just what I felt. I moaned about why it is a secret what day my medications when to be delivered? Told them I am fed up with not getting any help from the chemist and the surgery! Not the ladies fault I know, she did the best she could, and asked if I wanted to see the Doctor? It would be a long wait, but… I thanked her and accepted.
Now, I even more fuming, I sat in the other waiting room. By the time the Doctor got the time to see me, I was still concerned about things, but was back to my regular timid, shy, self! When Dr Vindla called me in, I explained my frustrations and confusions, plus the beta-blocker situation, and she called the chemist and spoke with someone. She said go home, and the prescriptions will be delivered this afternoon.
My EQ warned me that this may not be the case! However, I thanked her and left to go home as instructed.
I walked down the road and over at the Pelican lights and waited for a bus back to Sherwood. When it arrived, on the journey, I was battered and bruised from the mauling I had taken from cram-packed passengers on the short trip. Now I was all niggly again!
I walked down to the crossing and over the road, almost spitting with frustration! (If only I’d known what was to come yet, I wouldn’t have bothered!)
I went in the Co-op store and got a pod peas and some tomatoes.
I got up to the Wilko store and got some clothes-freshener and granules. And liquid soap flakes, plus a bag.
When I got to the bus stop at the top of the hill, Jenny’s Frank joined me in the shelter. We were having a great chinwag. As the bus arrived, I could not find the bus pass! This really irked me, I had it earlier. Frank said he saw it in my hand before, Tsk! Niggly-time again!
I kept looking en route without any luck! At the bus stop, when I arrived at the flats, going through the pockets. No luck!
I got in the apartment, what a mood I was in! Searched for ages, before I found the bus pass – I was so relieved! Phew!
I put the things away, and got on with doing the extra blog about ‘Hounds Gate’. Of course, the fingers and shoulder started dancing. Life be right codswallop at times!
Then, I updated this post. It took me ages, as the fingers were worse than ever now! It got to well before my usual head down time. But as the medications might be coming, I pressed on with the blogging, to make sure I stayed awake and did not nod-off!
I got evening med’s ready and made about the fifth mug of tea, and the landline rang (This being about 1830hrs!) It was the chemist checking on where I lived and how to get in the flats! He knows I go to sleep early, I’ve told him often enough. Niggle-Time again! Told him, and carried on with the updating. He’s on his way at last.
I thought I’d do the hand washing, but there was no hot water again! I must remember to report it in the morning.
Ah, the prescription pots and medicines arrived! The owner of Carrington Pharmacy, Deepak, brought the goods. I wish he would have shown me how the packs work, though. 1855hrs: I thanked him, he’s a decent chap.
I put away the medications and got with sorting the belated meal. I was all in now, so tired. But wanted to stay awake for the England Ladies match against Norway.
By the time the meal was ready for consumption, the match was starting on the TV. So, down in the £300 second-hand, rickety, c1968, tatty gungy-beige recliner, tray on my lap and a feast of fodder and fine football followed!
Although some of the food did get spilt into my naked lap, which made me jump at tad when England scored after three minutes!
Of course, I was tickled pink. But if they are to get to and win the final, it means taking on not only the gifted French girls; but FIFA, the crooked, bent VAR controllers, back-hander referees and European hatred and jealousy for Brexiting England!
In the unlikely event that they meet in the final, despite all of untrustworthy, amoral, cheating, lying, guileful, dishonourable, recreant, sneaky, unctuous, Pecksniffian, unjust, and Janus-Faced, FIFA’s efforts (Just ask any Croatian for proof), and England win. Would someone be kind enough to call the 999 number for me and send someone to help me with the shock-induced heart-attack and second stroke I will be having, thank you? Hehehe!
But I still live in hope, although possibly vain hope – but fear that FIFA will fluff and f____ up any possible festivites for anyone but the freebooting foul French fiddlers. The American team now have to face the fiddling bent French tomorrow. I fear that FIFA will again find a way to ensure victory for France. Just you watch, for VAR cons, yellow cards and false penalties. If America does win, and I would love them too, then they will meet England, and I don’t think I could stand to watch that match. I’d be torn apart.
At least I stayed awake for all of the match… well, I say all, there was a couple of two-minute nod-offs. When the game ended, I remember thinking that the excitement was going to keep me from nodding-off… as I fell asleep!
Hounds Gate, Nottingham; The early name for the street was Hungate, and it was referred to as such in 1326 and appeared in this form on John Speed’s map of Nottingham of 1610. It is thought it received this name from being where part of the kennels for Nottingham Castle 100 attack hounds were situated.
We could do with bringing them back! Hehehe!
I hobbled up it this morning with the camera, and the brain in nostalgia-Mode! It is a sad sight nowadays. Abandoned retailers, and a muggers and druggies paradise. I have found out that 1098 crimes in May 2019 were reported within and half a mile. Big Issue Sellers, and Ice Cream vans, and muggers today. Rumour has it that two Nottingham policemen were spotted patrolling on foot in Hounds Gate in 2018, but we cannot confirm this overdramatic, ridiculously sensationalised claim.
This morning, there were few Nottinghaman’s about, being early in the day. Thus less chance of being mugged, sold some weed or a street beggar begging and his dog snapping at my feet! Hehehe!.
It is interesting to remember that the first town steward, John Collishaw, who was appointed in 1787 lived in Houndsgate and he only died so recently as 1809. The spectacular Bridge of Sighs, which connects the two portions of a great soft-goods warehouse and which spans Hounds Gate in really a charming manner, was erected in 1923. My father used to collect and deliver to it as late as 1959. He always called to see if they had any returns, when he was on the Nottingham run. I suspect that this might have been prompted by the threepence 3d, he was paid for each one he collected. I used to go with Dad on school holidays, and the slightly pleasantly built meaty, muscular young lady who managed the warehouse and office, was always a cheerful soul as I recall! Haha!
Another memory, was of a twenty-year lad, legless, totally drunk, and getting arrested, on a Wednesday night, in about 1966. Yes, it was me! Shame-Mode-Adopted!
Sister Jane swore she saw two customers in that Sub-Way store last month! Huh!
Towards the top of the road, I came across a self-advertised Cargo-Bike. I looked back and took this picture while the chap was busy organising his load. He really ought to fit an alarm to it, you know!
Closer to the top of Hounds Gate, was Ye Olde Salutation Inn. Claimed to be the second oldest pub in England along with theRoyal Children pub on Castle Gate nearby.
I mention this, because I am not a born-again recovering holier than thou alcoholic, and remember visiting both pubs many times in my drinking days. And by gum, they sold some great beer, and the atmosphere was great!
I exited Hounds Gate, up the paved path. On to what was called Granby Street in 1963 when it was built. This was a Whoopsiedangleplop moment for me. The three-wheeled trolley guide then toppled over, the toe was mercilessly stubbed again in the process, and a few well-chosen words were spoken. Well, no that’s a fib – they were not well-chosen at all, the just burst out!
The memories flooded back at the same time, though.
Finally, a photo from c1920 of Hounds Gate.
Not much changed aesthetically I think.
I’ll let you know when I look up what aesthetically means.
Spit, fume, and jealousy!Maybe the most dangerous of the two choices?
Wednesday 27th June 2019
Scots Gaelic: Diardaoin 27 Ògmhios 2019
02:05hrs. After yesterday evenings nodding offs, I was not exactly surprised when I woke up with a bit of energy, after only four hours of proper sleep.
Off course, seeing the reminder note on the TV screen, for the Audio Clinic appointment, stirred me into an almost semi-lifelike mode. Of sorts, anyway.
As mind began to try and sort-out the talks ahead for the day and decided that getting the Tuesday post updated as far as possible, and as quickly as possible was the primary demand, the need of a wee-wee became apparent. So, I extracted my short, plump, wobbly bellied lumbering short body out of the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, tatty recliner. The stubbed toe was of little bother, as I stood, gained my balance, got the stick and hobbled over to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket) and had an RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee). Not a very pleasant experience. I prayed that the following wee-wees would be more comfortable.
Being as yesterday, idle-Tuesday, I had not even got dressed or shaved, there was no hand-washing to be done. Guilty-Mode-Engaged!
So, to the kitchen and got the kettle on, and the sphygmomanometer and medications out. The health check results were Sys, 137, Dia 56, Pulse 91, and Temperature 34.1°c. These readings looked fair to me. Took the medications, and left taking the Furesomide water tablets, being as I was going to the clinic. Don’t want to get caught out.
I checked that the Audio appointment book was in the jacket pocket with the bus pass. Then got on with updating the Tuesday blog. The fingers, thankfully were not too bad, dancing-wise at the moment, so I got the diary completed by 04:30hrs, and sent off. And, only two RWPSWWs needed while doing it! Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I made another brew and got started on this post. The wee-wees increased in frequency (so much for not taking the Furesomide, that helped didn’t it? Huh!) They were now of the ELDOPWW (Extra-long-Drawn-Out-Persistent-Wee-Wee) mode. Ever changing again!
I was going to take a photo from the unwanted light & view-blocking new balcony with the tons of glass to clean that cannot be accessed, and I spotted the new INR result sheet on the floor between the c1968 recliner and the c1950 easy-chair. I put in where it should be kept.
It was raining a little, lightly, and the mist had cleared, apart from in the distance. I managed to open the side window with the metal spring clip opener failing in its efforts to again take a chunk of flesh out of the hand or finger, this time. Swank-Mode-Adopted!
The light coloured paint on the cladding of the flats brightened this picture nicely.
I was doing better than I thought I would, with the fingers behaving for once. (This can’t last, of course!) I must not get over-confident, and still take the stick with me when I walk anywhere, so as not get in a picklement when they kick-off again. An amazingly rare Logical-Inchcock-Mode-Adopted!
I made a Morrison order for next week, Wednesday I think, good and early.
Got the ablutions tended to. Bit of a rush job and the shower cut off once? Which frit me, cause I had just sprayed some antifungal on the tiles when it stopped – thank heavens it started again!
Mor hurrying and scurrying, got things ready, and black bags to the chute.
Off to the shed.
The rain had stopped as I hobbled, being overtaken, en route to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Flats, Oberstgruppenführer Wardens Temporary HQ, Toilet, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Rumourmongering Clinic. Tenants Socialisation Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Things like china and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room.
I explained my worries to Deana about Josie, she said Josie had attended the free meal yesterday. So at least she must be feeling a bit better?
I took a shot of Winwood and Winchester Street flats as I went out to the bus stop. Where a gang of residents had huddled in the bus shelter, with lurkers surrounding it, stood on the road and scattered having chinwags. Haha!
The bus arrived, and I caught the L9 to town. Not feeling very good at the time. I suppose my EQ told me that things were not going to go well at the clinic… it was right!
I got off the bus on Upper Parliament Street, and sto0d and took this photograph, catching the ladies pink reflections in the bus shelter plastic windows, without realising it.
I made my way down Clumber Street street to the City Centre. Where I took a couple of pictures of the Council House from Slab Square, on my way to the Poundland Shop to see if they had any of the large Pork Farm pork pies in stock.
They hadn’t, but I got a ready-made BLT sandwich, steak pasties, and some handing out nibbles. I paid at the self-serve checkout without any cock-ups for once.
Then made my hobblingly up to Standard Hill and the high climb to the Audio Centre.
The feet were already aching and stinging. By the time I had manoeuvered my way up… Oh dear! The climb wasn’t really that bad – oh yes it was! Hehehe!
Up Lister Gate...
Standard Hill...
The rich-persons's restaurant...
The simple, organised, smooth running Audi Centre visit: Huh!
I got in, booked in with the receptionist and was told to take a seat, so I did.
A lady came out and called my name. We trotted to a service room.
What was the problem? She asked. I replied, the audiologist (that impresses her, I think) on my last visit, told me to make this appointment, to have new ear-inserts made, as the current ones had either cracked or bent somehow.
She had a look, and told me that dewaxing must be done immediately and asked why I had let them ears get so bad and not been earlier to have them seen to?
I explained about the peripheral neurosis being diagnosed, and the Stroke and nine weeks in hospital and then a residential home had caused me to forget about putting in the daily olive oil. No response as such, not even an ‘Erm’ or ‘I see!’
You must have them seen to immediately, the was looks so bad and tight, it may have some effect on your stroke?
She left the room and returned having found out the nurse could fit me in for a channel vacuuming.
She led me out to the waiting hall and told me to take a seat, so I did.
After a while, not long at all, the nurse came out and called my name. She took me to her treatment room.
I really wish I had asked her if I could photograph the lump of wax she had removed from the right earhole. She said she’d been doing this job for fourteen years, and had never seen so much compacted wax removed before.
I will have to have another hearing test, and I must book an appointment again later. (The heart sank once more at the thought of more waiting)!
She told me to go out to the waiting area, and someone would call me. So I did.
A receptionist bloke called my name out, and I went to the desk. It seems the nurse had kindly told him of my problems and all the waiting time. plus difficulties in getting the clinic (I saw a bit of the note the Angel had written on my paperwork ♥)
He explained that usually, it would take two-three weeks for an appointment… My heart sank! However, if I could get in tomorrow morning for 09:00hrs, I could get in a just-cancelled slot! I jumped at the chance! The man made the appointment and wrote it in my attendance book for me, mentioning that it was the first time he’s seen one of these, they had been stopped over seventeen years ago. Haha!
Now the mind was racing as I left the building. Today will tire me out, then I will have to get ready to leave the flat by 07:10hrs in the morning to pay for and catch the number 40 bus to town… I must make sure I have the right change, £2-30 bus fare.
Another stop to catch my breath…
Then on Friday, I have the Podiatrist visit to go to, at the Sherwood Health Cente.
I was having a little brain-churning-fretting session! And somewhat confused. Humph!
Down Standard hill and into the City Centre, where the timing worked out poorly, as I had just missed the L9 bus, and had another hour to wait for the next one. Never mind! I had a hobble around taking some photographs.
Long Row
Erm, a Whoopsie photo?
Clumber Street
Clumber Street
Clumber Street
Made my way back to the bus stop, and decided to catch a 40 bus instead – a bad mistake this turned out to be! Almost a tale in itself:
Three stops along and a woman with a chap in a wheelchair got on, and utilised all three side-saddle seats opposite me, to get her patient’s chair in.
Next stop, a lady with a pushchair and her baby got on. She had to cram herself next to me, but for the few stops they were on the bus, I enjoyed smiling and swapping pulled-faces with the youngster. Hehe!
As the young lady got up to move her pushchair, she gave my right toe a jolly-good stubbing with the wheel – Twice!
At my bus stop, a chap got up early, and as the bus braked, he fell forward onto me! Standing on my right foot and toe! I was getting irritated with things now!
As the bus stopped, I asked him if he was alright, and got no reply.
The man, rather dangerously I thought, walked down the hill and crossed the road on the bend. I had walked up the incline to where the centre-rest was, to cross over. A car swerved to avoid him, and came a bit to close to me for comfort!
The bloke moved swiftly out of view, so I was pleased he had not hurt himself on the bus as he trod on my foot and fell on me!
By the time I had reached the flats and got inside, seeing no one at all en route, I was not in good condition.
I got the nosh sorted out and ate it all without any effort.
I washed the pots, and settled down in the c1968 recliner, and started to watch a Rumpole of the Bailey episode.
04:10hrs. I have to admit it, I woke in a foul, niggly almost execrable mood! I had been dreaming a lot, but cannot recall anything of them, I just knew I’d been suffering nightmare-like dreams. The mind was rampant with fears, nervous worries and near panic. Why? I know not!
I removed with some ease for me, my overburdened, roly-poly body from the c1968, £300 second-hand rickety-recliner. I walked unaided to make use of the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket), by taking a lamentable and long and surprisingly wearying LSPDOWWs (Long-Slow-Painfull-Drawn-Out-Wee-Wee). By the time I had finished this, the niggliness had departed the grey-cells. (?) Another bit of fortuitousness, I had the forethought to grab the walking stick, before making my way to the kitchen.
I’m so glad I did. As I hobbled into the room, all hell let loose with the shaking and damaged axonotmesis-neurotmesis influenced dancing right shoulder and leg! Yet I really wished that a CCTV had been working in the kitchen! I would dare anyone, and that would include me, not to have laughed at the limbs antics! I must have looked like a cross between a tiller-girl and some old git trying his best to do the hokey-cokey, without any coordination whatsoever! Hehehe! I somehow kept my balance, but it was a close call. The getting away without going over, cheered me up a bit, I think.
I took a photograph of the morning view from the unwanted, unliked new kitchen window. Those with the unreachable extra panes that need cleaning, block out the light & view and need the potentially deadly to me, stepladders to be used in the event of wanting check quickly for emergency vehicles in the event of a fire alarm, which I can’t hear anyway.
I got on with the morning’s hand washing. Only a t-shirt and the long bamboo socks rinsed them, wrang them out as best I could, and got them on the stand-up airer in the hallway.
I made up the next two medication pots for the day. Then I had to visit the Porcelain Throne then. An amazingly easy session. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain and no messy things to clean up afterwards!
Things seemed to be getting so much easier as the morning went on. But the EQ was not going to let me get overconfident, and a warning sensation came over me.
I got the Health Checks and today’s morning medications taken. The results were: Sys 135, Dia 69, Pulse 89 and the Temperature came out as 35°c, all looked good to me.
I got on the computer to do the updating of the Monday blog. Which did take an extraordinarily long time, with all the pictures to download, get into CorelDraw and resize, then put on the post.
To make things worse and more difficult, after an hour or two, the electric-like fingers, hands arm and shoulder started dancing again, and stayed that way for what seemed like an aeon! Tsk! Many and repeated mistakes had to be corrected, which was annoying, irritating and exasperating in the extreme! Damnations and execrations!
I got the blog finished an posted off at last! I decided to have a break and make a mug of tea. But could I find a walking stick? No! After walking by passing it several times, I found it in the hallway, hidden in clear view! A new mood-mode was created for how I felt at this moment: BPAFM Beyond-Pathetic-and-Feeble-Minded Mode Engaged! How sad!
It got even worse, I’m afraid. As I was carrying the mug of tea back to the computer desk, the damned dancing started again! The freshly poured out tea spilt over and scalded the left index finger!
After a lot of openly voiced loud cursing (Sorry neighbours!), I returned to the kitchen’s first-aid drawer and applied some cream on it! The cream bubbled when I put it on. I had to smile at this, despite my feeling well-wee’d-off at the same time!
I was almost back to the niggly outlook when I got back on the computer, as the hand finger and shoulder dancing continued for ages!
I started prepping things to start off this post going, and the doorbells rang out. As I approached the hallway, I heard the door open. It was Obersturmbannführeress Warden and Pole-dancer Deana. She’d come to test the health wrist alarm and fire alarm batteries with the control room. Both were okay.
I inquired about the appointment she was going to make for me with the intercom-fitting and installation people yesterday. She came right out with it, she has been that busy she had forgotten about it. I liked her straight honesty! She called them there and then for me, bless her cotton socks. She made a booking for next Friday 5th Julie, twixt 08:30 and 10:30hrs, which was good for me, and I thanked her. She had to shoot off, so much to do, so little time. I wonder, who was the first person who said that? Hehe!
Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you’ rang out from the doorbells again.
It was the mailman, with two letters and a parcel to sign for. The big envelope was the Age UK contract for the house insurance, the small one the INR Warfarin test results and the box, was another set of support-strapping from the Orthotics at the City Hospital. I was so glad it had arrived.
I took another break from the frustrating dancing-finger controlled typing, and wet to move the washing on the airer. The Fire Alarm sounded, I would not have heard it anywhere else in the flat. I checked outside. Not using the deadly kitchen windows, but the far less harmful balcony window, but could not see any emergency vehicles below. I thought the fire-alarm testing was to be done on a Thursday.
I started to do some TFZer Facebooking. After ten minutes, my EQ told me to check outside again from the balcony.
Aha! The fire brigade had arrived on site. I could tell by the casual and steady pace of the officers approached the foyer door, the alarm might well be another false one. They did not look happy people as they departed after yet one more false alarm from the old fogies high rise dwellings. And rightly so!
I returned to the computer and checked on the Google, no, BBC weather for today at 1400hrs. The Nottingham forecast looked a bit rain-soaked to me. But it was only spotting with rain outside.
At long last, I made a start on this blog! Well gone, midday!
And the curtains all fell off of the hooks holding them in place! What? Eh? Flipping ‘eck!
I got up on the stepladder and hooked a few rings back on.
A make-do, for now, a temporary job, of course. What had caused this almost a phenomenon, beats me!
I had another of the frequent today, wee-wees, and made a brew of tea.
I checked if any and which Ladies Football matches might be on TV today.
Tired out again now. I’ll get the nosh sorted and ready for watching the football later.
Mushy peas with vinegar, fish cakes and battered pollock.
Must remember the Audio clinic in the morning. The timing is fair enough, anyway. I can catch either the 09:30 or at a push the 10:30 bus. I made a reminder note and hung it on the computer screen!
The drizzle lasted all afternoon and evening on and off, but as Paul Daniels used to say: ‘Not a lot!’
Well, what a soccer match I watched.
Italy v China. A look at the match statistics on the right, tells a tale for me!
I felt the need to visit the Porcelain Throne, so I did so. Hehe!
What a farcical event, ridiculous in the extreme, hardly believable. Bonkers and brought on a lot of self-doubts.
I settled on the throne, and mid-struggle to get the evacuation started… I fell asleep!
I woke up an hour or so later, perplexed, wondering where I was, and why? The shakes started as I rose up top ‘clean things’, and the aroma was a little putrid. It took a minute or two to get myself together and sorted out mentally.
Half in a strange daze, I cleaned up and made my way back to the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and think I fell asleep almost immediately.
02:05hrs: I woke with, not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but with a degree of unexplained jocundity. My mind turned to Josie and hoped she would be feeling a little better today. I do not want to bother her too early, she is a night-owl, and mornings are not her forte at all. But must get to find out how she is later. Fingers crossed!
I find myself up, out of the near-dilapidated, £300, second-hand, rickety, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, recliner, caught my balance, got the stick and was utilising the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), almost without realising how I’d got there?
Off to the kitchen, and got the hand-washing done. A call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, a rather urgent one, and off to the wet room. The evacuation was swift and not too painful, whatsoever. Cleaning certain ‘things’ up afterwards, I discovered some minuscule bleeding from Little Inchy and Harold’s haemorrhoids. First time for Inchy in many weeks, it surprised me a bit. It may be due to the high INR level.
I medicated where needed, and got the kettle on. I was almost caught-out, when I passed wind, and had to hobble back to use the Porcelain Throne again. Lickety-split, too!
The evacuation was surprisingly large but went okay. The poor old, seemingly constantly well-stubbed right toe, suddenly began to sting for no reason, as it had been calm with little pain earlier? There was some bleeding again.
Then, it was yet again clouted against the toilet-seat-riser’s metal leg! This was followed by a silent Whaa! And maybe a few muted, selected words of displeasure.
Marks and somewhat unique colouration appeared on the bulbous, elephantine stomach again. Along with some new papsules and spots. The Tate Gallery might be interested in this photograph? Haha!
I also noticed some hairs on the chest had started to grow back, after having them shaved off for the heart operation, donkey’s years ago. Hehe!
Back to the kitchen, to make another brew for the one that went cold, and did the health checks and then I took the morning medications. Sys 156, Dia 88, Pulse 90 and the temperature was 89°c. The photograph I took of the sphygmomanometerisationing, went the same way as many have over the years, off into the ether, never to be seen again. Humph!
As I made the mug of tea, I looked out through the light & view-blocking, impossible to get to clean, stepladder needed for viewing downwards, new unwanted kitchen windows. I took a couple of shots, one a close-up of where I have to go on Friday at 10:40hrs, for my long and eagerly awaited (for twenty-two weeks) appointment with a podiatrist. (There is also the [Thirteen weeks!] waited for audio-clinic appointment onWednesday, where I have to walk up the steepest hill in Nottingham City Centre!)
I made a start on this blog and then updated the Sunday post. It took me a while, but the involuntary-dancing fingers were not so bad, and I completed it and got it sent off on about four hours! Smug mode Adopted!
Four wee-wees of the RWPSWW (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wee) style were taken during the updating.
I went to make a brew of tea and was surprised at how the weather had changed from earlier.
While the kettle was boiling, I popped, well, limped, to the wet room for a wee-wee with a difference. That I hope do not continue. It was an SHLP (Short-Hosepipe-Like-Painful) release! Cor blimey!
I went on the TFZer Facebook page.
I tended to the ablutions, with extra care to be taken over the shaving! Hah! All done bloodlossedssly. Prepared everything for the photographic trip to town. Dressed, checked for bus-pass, card, etc. Three-wheeled trolley with a shoulder bag, and was all ready to go out to try and see Riechsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana, at the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Fallen asleep tenants corner. Crockery and pottery to be stolen from location, and residents porta-cabin, to ask if she could phone to book in the bound-to-be-messy job of the fitting of the new Communication Intercom.
I got down to the foyer for, and outside, was the INR Nurse ringing the button, trying to get me, on the intercom! I expected her if at all, on a Wednesday, like last week. The pretty Polish Nurse and I returned back up to the flat. Where the kind lady took my blood in short-time. I mentioned my having only four beta-blockers left, and not being able to find out from the chemist, when the delivery of July medications was due to be delivered (It seems like a Kremlin secret would be easier to find out about!) The Nurse rang the Sherrington Park Medical Practice doctors re the beta-blocker shortage. She was told, they should be here in a couple of days, as the prescription was mailed to the chemists three days ago. Bless her for trying for me. But I am still in La-La Land, over the Bisoprolol Fumarate supply will last or not! Frustration-Mode-Engaged! I thanked her, and of she trotted.
Out again for me to the hut. On entering the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. And Telling Inchcock off Zone, there were a dozen or so residents in differing states of consciousness, awareness and confusion. Hehehe! I did notice that the entrance-exit door on the Woodthorpe Court end of the cabin, was still awaiting being finished off.
Deana, come into the cabin, and I begged her assistance. She agreed to try and book them early in the day (08:00>12:00hrs), and will let me know later.
I had intended to mention Josie being poorly, but it being a Monday and everyone wanting to talk to Deana, I got a little confused. After handing out some nibbles, and what seemed like reluctant chinwags, I moved out and over to the bus stop. With a clump of us, partly-deaf old fogies talking was impressive. The misheard questions getting befuddling and confusticating answers was a delight and amusing to listen to. I kept quiet, not wanting to add my well-known miss-answerings and confusional verbiage to the spoken tangle. Haha!
On the bus, as is now routine with my having to use the trolley-guides, I had to sit on the most uncomfortable, and likely to fall-off-of seats; a side-saddle one! Margaret sat nearby, and what turned out be the most farcical conversation took place. We are both deaf, and with the other passengers chatting away, and Mary’s fast speaking, my grip on any comprehension, perception, discernment, or interpretation of what we were talking about, was very minimal, and frustrating, too! My talking too softly must have confused her as well. Still, we tried our bestest! Hehehe!
We dropped off on Upper Parliament Street. My getting off last, I usually do this, as I find I am less danger to folks with the trolley, this way. I followed some other alighted passengers and saw this very tall young ‘Vaper’ near a bus stop. By gum, he was giving off some smoke! No problem from me about it though. At least the lad is trying to stop the tobacco, and the Vaping does far less damage to his insides I believe.
I ambled on towards Clumber Street and took this photo of a reasonably busy Upper Parliament Street.
The pretend policeman, seemed to be posing as the girls went by. There’s a song in there somewhere, but I can’t for the very life of me remember what it is. Ah, got it! ♫ Standing on the corner, watching all the girl’s go by! ♫ Haha!
On the slow, steady hobble down through Clumber Street, I took some pictures. They should have bot had Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist in them.
But not in the first one of the photographicalisations, the cyclist hid behind the seven-foot lad. Hehehe!
In the second photograph, (left) there were two Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists originally, but by the time I’d got the camera out, the second Cyclist had mysteriously disappeared!
Surely he would not have taken his bike into McDonald’s? Hehe!
I had a look in a shoe shop window and got a surprise at the prices! The damned photo did an into the ether trip, but I took the snap to show how this particular pair, looked exactly like the ‘Plimsoles’ I used to have to wear at school in 1959… 1969. Hahaha! The shop had them on a Sale Price £105, down to £89! And, the shop had a right few customers inside! I think it must have been selling rip-off designer stuff?
I walked down South Parade, into the Slab Square. Hobbled onto Wheeler Gate, and into the Poundland shop, naughtily in search of some Pork-Farms Pork Pies! Guilty- Mode-engaged!
They didn’t have any. But, with not having any food delivery this week, I got some bleach, toothpaste, nibbles Twix and Cheeselets. And other bits.
The lad at the self-serve checkouts put the things through for me and packed the trolley and shoulder bag for me. Bless her! I may have been looking a little anaemic again? Hahaha!
I thanked her, and once outside, I saw these two Mountain Bike Pavement Cyclist, possibly visitors, judging by their suntanned faces, and backpacks, chinwagging with each other. I could not recognise what tongue they were speaking in at all.
Not that I am a linguist, of course. The English language is enough for me to get confused over and make a mess of.
I strolled over the Slab Square, taking a picture of the Council House en route to Queen Street and the L9 bus stop. It looked a little sparse of Nottinghamians, but there were plenty of them about; probably busy shoplifting, street begging or mugging someone.
I carried on and up the hill to the L9 bus shelter. Where another photograph I took, of the street, has since mysteriously disappeared into the flipping ether, from the sim-card! Huh?
At least the hands, arms and fingers were not doing much dancing and jumping about on the trip, so the photographs came out alrightish.
The bus arrived, and Caroline from then got on Chestnut Walk (As Chestnut Way is called on Google) got on the bus at the next stop. I was on a side-saddle seat as usual, and we held a conversation that was similar to the one Mary, and I had on the bus earlier going to town. Difficult! Back at Chestnut Walk or Way,
Caroline dropped off at the Briarwood Home, and I got off the bus with the rest of us ragamuffins, at Winchester Court. And hobbled along home to Woodthorpe Court.
The connecting corridor was still being built in the lift lobby. To allow us through to the new, soon be occupied and utilised (We hope) Obergruppenführeress Wardens and Prison Officers new HQ, and the brand spanking new forty-four extra-care flats.
I wasn’t sure if I should disturb Josie or not. But I had to find out if she was okay. So I rang her bells, she answered. But she was not looking very good, and said she had a migraine did not want to talk, only wanted to sit quietly, I got the message and apologised for bothering her. Told her my door would be unlocked and I’ll be available anytime if she felt poorly or needed anything at all. I withdrew swiftly, to let her get back to her chair and some rest. I felt a little useless, though!
Although it was still a tad early, I got the nosh sorted out. A can of chilli and some oven chips (Fries) and a pot of mandarins in jelly. Not one of my best meals, but I ate up all of it. Granting it a score of 5/10 for flavour. The chips were very bland!
I was getting weary again, as is standard. I got the TV ad a DVD of ‘Keeping Up Appearances’ to watch, before the Ladies Football, America v Spain. Which I got everything sorted beforehand. A wee-wee was taken, a bottle on spring water and a bag of Marmite crisps on the Ottoman, and all settled.
Oh, Sod-It! I fell asleep at half-time and missed the entire second-half. Which really wrangled me when I searched for the score when I woke up! But, I was more than pleased that America won the game, even if it took two penalties to do it.
As long as France don’t win, I’ll be happy enough! I don’t think England will win the cup, although it would be amazing. But you never know with FIFA. It seems to depend on who is giving the biggest back-hander out. Just like the French lads won against Croatia. Fiddling VAR controllers, and a Francophile or well paid or philargyrist referee. I have no confidence in FIFA’s pathetic history of biasedness!
The sky looked a little active if that’s the word, tonight. It looked beautiful.
I had a wee-wee of the LHNCWW (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Sensation-Wee-wee) mould. I thought it would never end!
I soon nodded-off again in no time.
I woke up twenty-minutes or so later, thinking it was morning! I began to get up when I realised it wasn’t dawn, and I had not overslept! What a proper fertummelt I am! Then I could not get back to sleep! Grumph!
02:35hrs. I woke with a determination, rekindled, reignited, rejuvenated, to stop my ever-increasing weight the last few days! Perhaps I’d been dreaming about it, but I cannot recall for sure. I was confident that the oleogustusness of the body had shot up, (not surprising eating meal such as last nights veritable feast – photo right), as I freed the torso from the £300, c1968, ancient, grotty beige coloured rickety recliner. So sure, that I decided to weigh myself, expecting the worse.
As I was using the stick to gain my balance and get up, it became evident that the need for a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne meant a diversion to the wet room. The damaged toe was far less bother and painful this morning, but I still tried to take care not to have toe-stubbings anymore than I could! No dancing leg, shoulder or arm, cheered me up a tad. But the hand was playing up a bit. Which did cause me some worry. As I got myself gently settled onto the Porcelain Throne. (Naturally, Hehe!) The evacuation went well, only the slightest spot of bleeding from Haemorrhoid Harold, and things were far less messy.
Then a wash and off to the spare (junk) room to weigh my enormously elephantine wobbly body. The mystery of the disappearing scales confused me for a while. After faffling around searching, moving the three and the four-wheeled trolleys, stacks of boxes of Protection Pants, knocking over one of the metal hanger racks, and picking up the togs and replacing them, I found the scales. They were nestled in a corner, under a pile of clothes to take to the Charity Shop? I dug them out and adjusted the setting, so they were correct, and cautiously stood on them… Well, it was not a bad as I thought it would be, but still up on the last weighing. Although lower than before the stroke, at 14st-9lb. So, the stone I’d lost had gone down to about 9-10lb, I think. So, today onwards, I must try to eat a little less, every bit uneaten must be to my advantage? Semi-Guilty-Mode adopted.
Back to the wet room, for another wee-wee, and what a wee-wee this one was! I didn’t time it, but it must have been close to a record time-wise. But it was only trickling out again, and stinging a bit as it did so. A new classification for this one, a DTPLWW (Dribbling-Trickling-Painful-Long-Wee-wee) Humph!
I took a picture of the poor old stubbed-toe, not an excellent one, mind, the fingers and hands untimely started jumping and the electric-shock-like dancing at that time. Tsk!
Then, I noticed a concern that bothered me a smidge. It looked like the ankle ulcer was coming back. Well, it looked like it to me, I could see the colouring coming on like it did last and the first time. I could feel the same tingling sensation from it as before, just before the growth bursting out?
Fingers-crossed that I am wrong. Mind you, if I recall it rightly, that time, it took me two weeks to get to see the Doctor, who got nurse Ann to bandage it, telling me not to go back, but replace the cream and bandage myself. Made an appointment at some Health Centre, the first one that can see me and is free will be used. Four weeks later, I got a letter appointment to go to the Mary Potter Health Centre, the date was in another fortnight. So, after the leg ulcer appeared, they had like a shot, got me an appointment within two months! Hahaha! Not funny, really, is it? The ulcer had all but cleared up by the time I got there (Which was a struggle, with the clinic not having a bus service that goes near it, Huh!). Then they diagnosed the Axonotmesis and Peripheral Neurosis nerve damage, told me there was nothing they could do about it, and eventually, I will lose the use of the leg and possibly the arm and hand as well. There is no diacatholicon. I remember thanking them! I got myself side-tracked and waffled on a bit there, Sorry!
Got the health-checks done and medications taken.
The readings looked much betterer this jolly sunshine-coming-out morning. With, Sys 120, Dia 64, Pulse 74 and Temperature at 34.9°c: Decent looking figures for once?
A bit of a red sky showing. ‘Red sky in the morning, Shepherds Warning’ – I checked on the weather for today on Google. Possible thunderstorms around 16:00 hrs! But not much rain until the early hours of tomorrow morning.
I got on with updating the Friday Inchcock Today. Not too hard a job, the dancing and jumping from the hands, fingers, arm and shoulder was not too bad at the moment. And with so few photographs to publish, I got it done and sent off in almost a record time.
I had to go for a wee-wee, I was using the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket) by now. They were all of the new DTPLWW (Dribbling-Trickling-Painful-Long-Wee-wee) variety, this one had a tiny bit of blood in it. I may have caught ‘something’ against the top edge, though.
I hand-washed the t-shirt and, left them soaking for a while.
I went to make a brew, and about to take a few shots out through the unwanted, dangerous, hard-to-reach and clean kitchen windows, the ones with the thick plastic light & view-blocking frames, and changed my mind. I went out on the balcony to take a few shots of the Sunday morning views without a single tellurian in sight.
Car park below on Chestnut Walk
Dwellings ahead
Dwellings closer, and bottom field
The end garages, all bereft of people
I closed the windows without an injury. It was when I was gathering the walking stick to come back into the flat, that it dawned on me, that I had taken these photographicalisations… with no clothes on underneath the open dressing gown! Coy-embarrassment Mode Engaged! Thank heavens there were no people around! Phew and faugh! I just pray there were no photographers out there, laughing!
I made up a template and got on with today’s creation. The fingers were now getting worse. They were so bad that I tried the ‘Talking to them’, as proposed by Sonia and Caroline. Amazingly it seemed to work, or perhaps they were ready to ease off? No telling, really. But they soon started again, and I swore at them… then again, I usually do this on bad sessions, Humph!
I needed another wee-wee, and the bucket was so full, I decided to take it for emptying and being disinfected. And, damn-well stubbed my toe en route to the wet room! Argh and Asdfghjkl!
This led to a real shocker of a discovery! A fear-inducing moment! Oh, Gawd-blimey, yes!
Evil ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles!
As I passed the corner stand, I noticed how dusty that my Auntie Kath’s old Snoopy-type ‘Porcelain Peter’ ornament dog had gotten.
I immediately collected him to clean and took him into the kitchen, placing him in the bowl and filling it with hot soapy water
The will-power sank – they are back, I lamented to myself, adding some naughty words in frustration!
After the initial shock, I found that only one of the weevils was alive?
They all came from inside the pottery. I returned to investigate around the corner shelf stand. But could see no more of the cursed Evil ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles EIBWBBBs. I’m all confused now! They felt fresh, not dried out, but all but one that came out in the water were dead?
I can’t remember what time of year they started to wake up in 2018. I pray that they do not start over with their invasion again. Oh, Dangwangles! I checked to see that I had plenty of the bug-killer spray in stock, which thankfully, I had! Mind you, the side-effects of that spray might have helped give me the stroke? I’m even more confused now!
I made another brew, and the ear-holes were itching, and I decided to put some olive oil in them. I was scratching a little, and the blighted fingers started to jump and dance about, and I cut the ear lip with the fingernail! Is it worth carrying on? Hehehe!
I cleaned up and got back to the computer with the mug of tea, and started this blog writing. Eventually getting up to here.
Then I went on the WordPress Reader. Only 08:00hrs now, not having to do Josie’s cheesy potato meal has saved me some hours today, but of course it will cost me some tomorrow. But I was disappointed in the lateness of being adviced of the change of day, but the gal didn’t know her family were going to invite her on the trip to some grand mansion. (blown if I can remember the name of it now. I’m not surprised, though! Haha!
I went to replace the mug of tea that I’d let go cold.
I’d left the damned hot water tap (faucet) running. It had, of course, gone cold. So now, I had eight hours to go before any hot water was available. A showerless stinking day! I pondered over what I could cook for the meal, that would not need a lot of cleaning. I decided that some battered sausages could be oven baked in a foil dish and some baked beans in a saucepan that could be left in soak afterwards, in a kettle of boiled water. So I set about opening (ring-pull) a can of beans… I dropped the ring-pull, bent down leaning on the stick and side of the sink to pick it up… and the flaming arm and shoulders went into one of their dance routines. Which meant I spilt the beans on the floor!
It gets better: I got down to clean up the mess, and struggling up, in what I thought was a careful manner, I clouted the back of my head on the shelf edge!
Good God, it’s not 10:00hrs yet, and I am already a physical and nervous wreck! Lost the scales! Then been talking to my fingers, hand, arm and shoulder! Stubbed my poor toe again! Having a new variety of DTPLWWs (Dribbling-Trickling-Painful-Long-Wee-wees) to contend with. Discovered another leg ulcer coming up! Suffered the Peripheral Neurosis inspired results of dancing fingers, hand, arm, leg and shoulder! I’ve done involuntary flashing while photographicalisationing from the balcony! Cut my ear hole! Discovered invading cursed Evil ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles. Spilt half a can of baked beans on the floor! Clouted my head on the kitchen drainer! Ran the hot water away! And, there is still so long left for more cockups and disasters!
And now, Horrible Herbert above has started his knocking and banging about!
And what help does one get? “You must be more careful!” Phwert! The Axonotmesis and Peripheral Neurosis dancing right-limbs at any time, the Stroke-induced loss of balance going. The untreated for months toes and feet don’t exactly help.
And Horrible Herbert above is still knocking and banging about! But this is acceptable, the Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/ Catwalk Model, Angela Gould says so! Which it is, of course, it’s just me getting ratty and sorry for myself over my ill-fortune today – Naughty Inchcock!
Sorry about that verbal outburst. But, things ain’t good at the moment, and there are no signs of any immediate improvement.
I made another replacement brew for another one that I let go cold. Then went on the TFZer site Facebooking. I stopped briefly to get the potatoes in the oven cooking and returned to the Facebooking for another two hours or so, then back to cheese-up the potatoes and put them back in the oven to brown off the tops.
Some sorting of paperwork, then got the nosh served up.
I had to boil some water to leave the soaking utensils in a soak in the sink.
I had one helluva Dizzy Dennis spell, just as got the fodder arranged on in the deep dish. Thankfully, only a short one. It’s a good job I had the stick with me at the time.
The meal was as disappointing a one as I’ve ever made. Shame! The sausages were tasteless and fatty, the beans were overcooked and just as insipid and unappetising as the rest of the meal. I even made a mess of the cheesy potatoes! They were poorly mixed and lumpy! Shame-Mode-Engaged! Flavour rating was given, of only 4/10! Most of it was thrown away, and naughty nibbles were eaten as a substitute!
The clearing up and cleaning afterwards was fine, for the hot water had come back on, which helped de-miserablise the situation somewhat!
I had hoped to watch the two ladies football matches. The Germany v Nigeria, then the Netherlands v Australia. The first match was a cracker. The Australia (who I wanted to win) v Netherlands match, was on too late for me to stay awake!
When I got to sleep, dreams made it a restless night. Hey-Ho!
04:40hrs: I woke again requiring a wee-wee. Extracted the Falstaffian shaped body from the clutches of the almost antique, £300, second-hand, grotty beige coloured, c1968, rickety recliner, got my balance and walking stick, and limped to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket), and partook in a SSWW (Swift-Short-Sharp-Wee-wee).
The masticated and well-stubbed big right toe was looking a little less tender, but it was still painful all the same.
Made a brew, then got on with updating the Thursday blog. Not so many photographs.
And the absence, or should say, only occasional peripheral neurosis dancing hand and fingers, helped a lot.
I tore off the wrapper of some foil cooking trays and got the tiniest, teensy-weensy, piffling, cut on the end of the right index finger. I could not understand why it hurt so much. Then it dawned, obviously the Axonotmesis, and Peripheral neuropathy dying nerves were not too happy with my accifauxpas. Tsk!
I got on the computer to continue with the updating of the post. The jumping fingers and little cut were both being bothersome again. Blow it!
I finished off and posted the blog to WordPress, then took the medications, did the health checks, and made a brew of Glengettie.
A change then, now I am having RWPSWWs (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying-Wee-Wees). Changing all the time today?
To the Porcelain Throne. Messy and a lot of evacuation material was evacuated. (Hehe!)
I made another brew and risked leaning out of the unwanted light & View blocking, multi-glass-panes needing cleaning that I can’t even reach. With a wide outside ledge that needs the use of the stepladders (Risky in my state of health and physical condition!) And blocks the view of Chestnut Way below. That the old windows allowed, so we can look for emergency vehicles coming on site – to make up for some of us not being able to hear the fire alarm when it goes off.
Time to get the ablutions done and get ready to go out. Which only produced one minuscule shaving cut (hardly worth mentioning really), and the slightest of toe-stubbing against the shower-seat metal leg, that made me jump a bit. A few more spots and papsules were showing up.
Overall, the most copacetic and agreeable scrub-up session for a while. Despite the tummy being a tad more firm and swollen, with the heart op scars showing vividly. To me, anyway?
Oh, and a lot of itching on the stomach too?
Well pleased with things so far today. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, perhaps, don’t you think? Hmm!
Looking at this photo much later in the day, and think I might be developing a third chin! Haha! while I was taking it, the battery-critical message kept coming up, I had to try several times before it took the picture. How or why this happened, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I topped up the battery just a few days ago. Canon batteries, Does anyone have a similar short-life problem with theirs? Mind you, I have been taking a good few shots lately… Oh, I don’t know! There was not time to charge it now!
I was faffling about so much, making up the black bags for the chute, getting things in the pockets and bag, I soon found I had to hurry things along a bit, to avoid being late for the bus. As I left the flat, with four bags on top of the three-wheeled trolly-guide, Josie exited her flat. I asked if 13:00hrs tomorrow would be alright for her dinner to be delivered, but the poor gal was in a bit of a state, she seemed to be a little panicky. I didn’t get an answer, Josie just told me she has to go, she had an emergency going. This concerned me, and I asked if there was anything I could do to help, but she shot-off as the lift arrived. I hope things are alright for her. I’ll try to see her again later when I get back.
I dropped the sacks down the waste chute, and went down and got outside on Chestnut Walk, on my way to the bus stop. It was here that I realised I had not got a camera with me! Not that it was so bad, with the battery dying on me anyway. Oy-Yoy-Yoy!
At the bus stop was a line of nine folks in a row, some sat others stood. As I walked along to the end of the orderly passengers’ queue, I greeted each one with a cheery ‘Good morning!’ I got two replies, and one was a grunt! I listened as best I could to the conversations that were milling about, and eventually Cyndy said good morning to me, as the bus arrived. Bless her! Penny ask how I was! One lady Doreen did not look very well and was a little quiet. I hope she will be okay. Most people got off in Sherwood, I bade each farewell as I sat with the trolley on a side-saddle seat. I got two replies and one customary grunt. Haha!
Penny, Doreen, and Mary stayed on until Arnold with me. A chinwag ensued.
I got off the bus last and went, and went into Asda (Walmart) in search of some Quorn Hot Dog Sausages on offer. But they did not have any. I soon had more than enough things to fill the shoulder bag and trolley bag too. I got some snack packs, sliced mushrooms, a milk roll bread, iced-lollies, mini-swiss rolls. On offer, some battered fishcakes, Asa clearance price battered fish and fish fingers. I paid at the self-serve checkouts. Only £10.75. As I am not having any food delivered next week. Paid and left, with the bus not due for twenty minutes, I went into the Fulton Foods shop to look for any bargains. Hehehe! I came out with some Drip-Drop mints, I can use for nibbles, and some more battered fishcakes at 6 for a pound!
The clouds kept going dark, but no rain fell. Penny and Margaret got on, but they wisely sat far away from me, and the conversation was awkward, not that we didn’t try. Hahaha! Doreen and Sheila got on in Sherwood.
I got off of the bus last again, and Penny kindly gave Doreen a hand, and we walked back to the flats together.
In the flat, a wee-wee of the UWTWW (Unwilling-Weak-Trickle-Wee-Wee) variety, many of them followed, and go the nosh away.
On the computer to update this blog. Easier today, with not having taken any pictures while I was out. Humph!
Mail had been delivered. Age UK Insurance, I called the 345 number to renew the policy, and a recorded voice got me all confused with its explanations and descriptions, and it took ages to get through to a human being (I think?). Eventually, they took the order and said it will be seven working days, and I should receive a copy of the contract and I must go through the details on it, to make sure every item is correct. Hey-ho! A least I heard most of what was said, a good line.
Got all caught up with the post, and got the dinner going. A right dollop of delight and I ate it all, plus some cheesy nibbles afterwards!
Potato Gratins with Leicestershire red cheese added on top, pod peas, mushrooms, tomatoes, pollack in batter, and a few Choisin crisps.
A Limoncello dessert, and spring water as well! Gannet!
Josie called, she is going to go out on stately-home visit on Saturday with some relatives, so I will not need to make and deliver her cheesy-potato meal, until Sunday.
I did the pots, had a wash, stripped for the kip, and flaked out and fell asleep while looking if anything worth watching was on the box.
03:30hrs. I was full of beans, psyched-up, full of pep, vitality, high-spirits, and ready for anything the day threw at me when I stirred into semi-life this morning. Then I moved… I was freeing my overweight torso from the £300 second-hand. c1968, rickety, near dilapidated, ramshackle, grungy-beige, sometimes working, rusty recliner, to use the emergency grey wee-wee bucket…
And I gave the already, wounded, still-tender, bashed about right toe, another right-good stubbing on the Ottoman!
The feeling full of beans, being psyched-up, in high spirits, and ready for anything the day threw at me when I stirred into semi-life this morning, declined, ebbed then vanished (probably permanently) into the ether!
The wee-wee was of the rare SPSHPLWW (Short-Painfull-Semi-Hose-Pipe-Like Wee-Wee) variety. Which didn’t help the rapidly-destroyed and dematerialised spirits, either!
I got the hand-washed t-shirt and socks on the stand-up airy. Took the medications and turned my attention to making up a blog on yesterday’s Tropical House visit. This took me several hours, with so many photographicalisations needing sorting out. However, the fingers, arm, and shoulder were not doing their Hokey-Cokey routine. Well, they were, but only for a few seconds each time, this was encouraging, I can cope with this.
So, by the time I had got it finished and posted-off to WordPress, In between a much-varied selection of wee-wees), it was a good four hours beyond my posting time for the previous days dairy.
I did the belated health checks, which did not look good today. Sys 89, Dia 69, Pulse 105, and Temperature 34.1°c.
I made a mug of tea, and a heard a muffled sound from the hallway. Some mail had arrived, well a circular. It was about avoiding false Fire Alarms. The advice was the usual, but I wish they had added to their ‘Cook with care, switch cooker off,’ with, in between uses!
The morning was nice and bright, even a bit of sun came out.
I made a start on updating the Wednesday diary. And what a job that was, the electric-like dancing fingers, right leg and shoulder were now coming on for more extended periods, making more corrections and time needed than ever to be sorted out. Most vexatious! I had to have a rest.
I got some sliced mushrooms in the crock-pot with a splash of the 40% balsamic vinegar, and podded some peas and got them in the saucepan.
I thought I had done an excellent job, added a little vinegar and demerara sugar. When I was doing the pot cleaning, I espied one pea on the floor. How he escaped, I don’t know! Hehe!
I got the ankle-strapping on, then remembered I am not supposed to wear it without socks on. Klutz! Tsk!
The landline light flashed. It was my old mate Michael, he was checking to see if I was in or not. Great! He’s on his way to see us.
For a phlyarologist, I surprised myself as I persistently nattered with myself for the next hour. I chinwagged of the Porcelain Throne, chattered in the kitchen and waffled having another wee-wee. The so-called conversation for mostly a two-way disaster.With much of self-talk topic or subject matter being forgotten as I spoke it. Humph!
Michael arrived, and I was over the moon to have a great, proper two-way varied discussion for an hour or more. I wasn’t aware that Michael had had three strokes, and it proves his determination, they only kept him in the hospital for three days last time! Then he found out he should have gone to another hospital or clinic, but nobody had told him! Yes, we share our luck sometimes, Mike and me! I regretted it when he had to go, but it was great of him to call, and it cheered me up considerably! I tried to take his photo as he got in his car, but the shakes meant I could not take one in time. Still, I got his tank with him in it! Haha! The one on the left.
Feeling a little blue after he had departed, I heard more muffled sounds, so checked, and I had had three letters delivered. The Warfarin INR level results. A letter from Boots opticians Which I screwed up an threw in the recycling bin. And, a message about the fitting of the upgrading of the door-entry Intercom communication.the very thought of any electricians working in the flat, gives me goose-bumps and scares me to death, at the thought of having to clean up after them!
At last, gone 13:00hrs, I made a start on this blog! Eight hours at least, later than usual!
I got the nosh on that wasn’t already on, and put some chips (fries) in the oven.
Had another heck of an extra long wee-wee of the LSPWWW (Long Slow Painful Weak Wee-wee) mode.
Then got the nosh served up. Good one, nice mixture. 7.5/10 flavour rating.
Medications and I got down in the c1968 rickety recliner, to watch the ladies football matches. I started jumping twixt channel 9 and 61 on Freeview, between the two games being shown… I woke up and could not get back to sleep after the football had all finished. Spit!
02:45hrs: I woke, (a decent six-hours kip) this Wednesday with an unnatural desire, nae, craving, to get the hand-washing I did last night, to the drying process. It was as if it was crucial, life-threatening or catastrophic consequences would be suffered if I did not get the t-shirt and socks onto the drier?
This was not a velleity! But an essential, vital job that needed to be done post-haste, at least it did to me at the time? I don’t know or understand why, either!
I extracted the increasingly more massive torso from the £300 second-hand, c 1968, rickety, gungy-beige, occasionally working, vintage recliner. I totally ignored the need for a wee-wee and got the hand-washing bits on the drier. And for some weird reason, a feeling of satisfaction overcame me?
I responded to the need for a wee-wee, using the almost-full EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket). It was of the LSPDOWWs (Long-Slow-Painfull-Drawn-Out-Wee-wee) variety, the type that actually wears me down a bit, all the waiting, praying and hoping for an end to the evacuation. Hehe! A long time later, all was done, and I emptied and sanitised the (often life and embarrassment saving) grey bucket, and disinfected it.
On to the computer, to update the Tuesday Inchcock. The computer or maybe the internet was very slow, but on the plus side, the right fingers, hand, arm, shoulder, and legs were a lot more kind to me, and their little electricity-inspired dances were few and far between. I can’t win, can I? The Axonotmesis, and the Peripheral Neuropathy damage to the nerves, for once eases off – which is terrific! But the flipping computer or internet plays up!
While on the computer, I found out I had been alive for 26,228 days, 3,747 weeks, 861 months, 37768321 minutes, 629472 hours, and 2266099348 seconds! Hehehe!
Yet, still, I suffer ailments (Issues as used by the NHS departments who refused to tend to my toenail cutting and pediatric needs – no, I mean podiatry needs). I suffer from abasia, ischaemia, anxiousness, nervousness, equivocation, aquaphobia, ophidiophobia, I regularly get urine infections, insipience, I’ve overcome alcoholism, got inscience, get panic-attacks, absent-mindedness, and anandriousness. I stopped smoking, Arthur Itis, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, Peripheral neuropathy, Lethologica, Axonotmesis, Have a metal/plastic ticker, never got beyond being a Prol, aboulomania, arithmophobia, atrial septal defect, duodenal ulcers, dysphoria, deafness, colour blindness, and prostate cancer. Bullied at school, been shot, generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), made redundant twice, loneliness, then had a stroke, lost mobility, balance, and coordination. And I was granted at birth, with the smallest most embarrassingly miniscule whatsit, anyone has ever seen! A source of total shame, embarrassment, awkwardness, mortification, self-consciousness, shame, humiliation, and shyness in my younger years. Thus the weltschmerz joins this list!
But you don’t like to complain does yer!
In between a few more LSPDOWWs (Long-Slow-Painfull-Drawn-Out-Wee-Wee) wee-wees, I got the Tuesday post finished and sent off to WordPress and emailed.
I took some photographs of the early fog, which soon turned to a light mist.
05:15hrs: Fog comes down
05:25hrs: Fog comes down
I went to take the medications, do the health checks, and make a brew of tea. The flipping sphygmomanometer needed three tries to get it to take. The results all looked fair to me: Sia 95, Dia 71, Pulse 34.9, and Temperature at 34.8°c.
I sudden call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet room. I went there without the stick. Although pleased with how I coped, I knew it was a silly thing to do. If the leg and arm started doing their involuntary ‘Hokey-Cokey’, I could have been in trouble. I must remember, no matter how galling it seems, I must take the stick or trolley-guide with me everywhere I go indoors.
I’d got the camera in my dressing gown pocket though, and decided to show you a picture of, possibly the most lethal piece of equipment in the apartment! Indeed, this month it has been, Hahaha!) The right big toe stubbing leg on the Red Cross provided second-hand used toilet seat raiser. I actually flinched as I took this photographicalisation! At the thought and memories of past-picklements and toe stubbings, I’ve had recently! Hehe!
Grumphski!
Turned all off, swore, and went to get the ablutions done. I took my time and was careful, all went smoothly. Got smelling nice, then dressed and readied the trolley, etc. for setting out to the Doctors to beg for some Biprolalol Beta-Blockers.
Then a thought came to me, (it has been known before, although not very often). I think that Caroline and or Sonia is due today? So I decided to go down to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic zone. Telling Inchcock off thumbscrew room. Crockery and pottery to be stolen from location, and residents porta-cabin, and ask Obersturmführeress Warden and pole-dancer Deana, if she could phone them for me to be sure.
Just as I was about to go out, the landline light flashed. It was the surgery with the INR results and new doses. Took them down, thanked her and shot off out.
I got down and onto Chestnut Walk, and took a photo of the ‘Turf Accountant Gang’. The lads were laying the lawn in front of Woodthorpe Court.
T’was then I realised I had come out without the £2 second-hand rust-cased wristwatch. So back in, up in the lift and to the flat. I collected the watch.
Down and out again.
I met Sturmbannführeress Warden Deana as she arrived at the foyer door. I asked her, and she willingly called the Stroke Team for me. They were due today at 10:00hrs. I thanked Deana, and back in, up in the lift and to the flat, again.
I did of hoovering until both of the girls arrived…
On their last ever visit! (Gawd, life can be so cruel!) Sonia said she would have a talk with the nurse, to see if she can help sort out the tablet shortages for me. Caroline will refer me to an After-Stroke team who hold a weekly support group. The course will last for 18 weeks, and try to get me in the morning meetings.
The last farewells and cheerios with the ladies put me on a real downer!
Fed-up, I decided to catch the bus to anywhere! The mind mussed as I got things ready. I’ll go to Arnold, take some photographs, and get some pod peas. I was in a totally uninspired and dispiritingly dejected mood.
I was only half-with-it as I left the flats with the three-wheeled trolley-guide and shoulder bag with me.
I ambled out, not really with any oomph or gusto, just a determination to rid myself of the miserableness that had taken over my life, but no idea how to, and along to the bus stop.
A good crowd were at the bus stop, they were off for dinner at the cafe in Arnold. As I was handing out some nibbles, a chap came up with bad news: The Arnold bound L9 bus had broken down in town, and might not even get here at all! This would make a lot of folks late in getting to the diner. Many individual’s ideas, some people accepted lists from other tenants, some waited for the bus, others called for a taxi. Not a happy bunch of Winwoodonians at all! Oh, dear!
I pondered as I waited for the City bond L9 to arrive. And decided to go up to Woodborough Road on the bus, do some shopping, and made the penurious, masochistic decision to walk back down and through Woodthorpe Grange Park and nip in the Tropical gardens.
(Which proved to be one of my most painful ever mini-marathons, Humph!)
I alighted the bus, and battled the scary traffic on my way first, to the greengrocers. Where I got some pod peas, not many, they were not in a very-fresh condition, toe big potatoes for Josie and me at the weekend, and some eggs.
Back out and I decided to catch a bus back down to the flats, as the feet and toes were particularly painful now.
I wandered down to see if the butcher had any cooked belly pork. He hadn’t, but I didn’t need it. The mood I was in probably had me yearning for some comfort food? All sorry for myself, pathetic!
But worse, as I came out of the shop, I stubbed my already-in-agony toe on the trolley wheels liting it done the step!
Then I had to stand pretending to take an interest in my surroundings and took a photograph, till the pain eased a bit. While I stood there, I saw the L9 bus go by early! Oy Vey!
Further dejected, I reverted to my plan to walk back down, through Woodthorpe Grange Park. I called in the mini-Sainsbury store en route and bought some oven-bottom-baked cobs, tomatoes and something else, can’t remember what at the moment.
I resorted the buys, and everything went in the shoulder bag, then into the trolley, well, I hung the container on the cart and set off on the marathon hobble home, down the steer Woodthorpe Drive hill.
I seemed to have gained the ability at, last, to stop the mind thinking, as I walked down the road, even when a pavement cyclist came up towards me, it didn’t really register. I was taking the shot to capture the speed-sign on the kerbside further down Woodthorpe Drive.
I kept stopping to ease the foot and toe, but by now, it didn’t bother me too much, and I have no idea why, but the discomfort was immense. And that’s not the right word either!
The humour returned home to me, a little further on down the road, as I took this photograph to use for a funny at some time in the future. Something like “I was not speeding with my three-wheeled trolley, here’s the proof!” Hehehe!
Down and around the bend, I arrived at the car park entrance, for the park. Hobbling through, I opted to take a rote to the Tropical Garden, that was new to me.
Crossing the car park into the fields and paths, I gave myself one hell of a good toe-stubbing against the broken road surface! I wish that I’d taken the four-wheeled-guide with me now, then I could have at least had a sit on it while I recovered. I imagine that the toe will be pretty… a bad word that let’s say well-blue by the time I get back home! Grumph! Gawd the pain is excruciating!
After a while getting lost, I fond the entrance gates to the Garden Centre and Tropical Garden. And procedure through them, stubbing the toe against the broken roadway!
Now I really was getting irritated and annoyed with myself!
I found a low wall and had a sit-down… then got up as I realised ants were covering my feet and trouser legs… and stubbed the toe once again! To avoid embarrassment, I left this out of the Maraton Hobble blog! Oy Gevalt!
Just when, and the only time ever; I would have welcomed the damned leg doing one of its out-of-control hokey-cokey dance routines, it wouldn’t! I spent an age trying to painfully free myself of those invading ants, I’m not sure there are not some still in my pants!
After what seemed like a fortnight, I got myself at last moving again, gingerly, carefully and with a certain amount of trepidation, and briefly visited the Garden shop, nothing of interest in it for me.
Then, at last, I got to the Tropical House. Many more photographs in the dedicated blog near the top photo. The spectacles and camera lens misty-up with the heat. They must be in the middle of sorting things out afresh, cause man tree, bushes and flowers that were in there last time, had been uprooted. The bear had been moved too.
On my leaving, I spotted the sign about the automatic door. If it’s automatic, why do you need to press the button to open it? Haha!
I made my way, not only in pain, but now feeling drained and tired, and a smidge of an annoying self-Pity-Mode came on.
The rest of the hobble-home seems to have a lot of detail from the brain?
I know it was terribly painful.
Back at the hospital, no, home at last!
It looked like a ghost town.
I crossed over the road, in the lobby, up in the elevator, around to the flat and got in, with not a soul in sight.
Before doing anything, I had a wee-wee, a long smarting wee-wee! Washed, took a painkiller. Then got two eggs in the saucepan ready for boiling. Sliced and buttered the bottom-of-the-oven baps, and sliced some tomatoes.
Put the purchases away, and changed into my night attire.
No fancy meals tonight, no time. I was in agony with both feet and the right big toe, and I wanted to stay awake long enough to watch the England Ladies match against Japan.
So, the battered haddock lump, two eggs, (disappointingly I’d bought the small eggs and not the double-yolk ones, Huh!). Tomatoes and put the eggs into a bap as I ate them! Too tired to be fussy tonight (well, this late afternoon) Although shattered, I ate it all and enjoyed it. A flavour-rating of 7.2/10 for this one.
Washed the pots and settled in the £300 second-hand, c1968, grotty-beige, rickety recliner. Hoping no one would phone or ring the doorbell.
I fell asleep and missed the beginning of the football match. I’m so glad they had won the game, but it was nerve-making.
