00:40hrs: It all happened in a sort of slow-motion, to start with. I semi-woke up and lay there pondering the upcoming opportunities this dedicated ‘Toilet Day’, of 12th November, had to offer.
What Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Disasters, Failures, Stalemates, Mental-implosions, Frustrations, Defeats, Katzenjammers, Nonachievements, Babalaases, Pitfalls, Disappointments, Mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me; that might present themselves this Thursday.
Oddly enough, as I was thinking of this ‘Dedicated Toilet Day’, as I was removing my potbellied, portly, wobbling, paunched-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, a borborygmic mini-explosion from the innards, signalled the expergefactorial need for the Porcelain Throne. I thought it would be a good idea, if I didn’t delay, and got to the Porcelain Throne with all haste! So, I did!
Not only did I get to the wet room without any bother, (Well, there was a short loss of balance, but that was my own fault for not catching it as I grabbed Metal Micky), and that only lasted a few seconds without any detrimental damage or injury.
What followed was most encouraging. This session was the even less painful, no enteralgia, no bleeding!
And comfortably evacuated; This is first-time that this has happened in many a month! Yee-Haa! But I knew this could not last for long. But I enjoyed it while it lasted.
Mind you, the poo colour was a sort of green. Still, it made a change: super-easy passage, and a pretty new colour for me to photograph for the gastroenterologist’s Neurogenic bladder and bowel management record.
I was tickled-pink, started singing to myself! (The Young Ones – Cliff Richard) As I was getting up to sort the cleaning up, I spotted the gunk-cleaner on the shower floor, that I’d left to soak in last night – and had forgotten all about doing! Oh, dear!
I went out to the hallway and turned on the shower-power at the box. Back in and as carefully as I could, got the shower on and I sprayed the cleaner away…
But it looked far worse than it did before my orgulous bright-spark of an idea was used.
Humph and Knackwrangles!
And then, of course, to completely demolish the memory of the successful Throne session and semi-contentment of the marvellous evacuation; The moment I moved the showerhead into the right hand so I could turn off the water, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed, and the showerhead flailed all over the place. This resulted in my attempt to retrieve the moving water-jetting, hose-pipe like head, I had a tumble to the floor and got an early morning closed up shower, and soaked the jammy bottoms and me, and I got a few knocks new and bangs, in the process! Tsk!
The struggle to get back up, the cleaning and sorting out, were done in a silent, stewing mood, ruminating and chewing the cud; determined not to get in a sulky frame of mind at the return of my devil’s own luck, and eventually affirmed it as just a tribulation. I was pleased with myself then, at how I’d talked myself into just accepting things, knowing these incidents will only get worse as the neurotransmitters slowly die anyway. Confusingly, sometimes it’s like this, others, I get all het-up, cursing my fate, and start Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna off, but not on this occasion? I sort of habituated, adapted to the situation. I’ve no idea why this is so, but I’m pretty content and stilled about things now.
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and realised than yet again, I’d not taken the evening medications! What an Ahntoisht, Shilmazel! So I took the evenings doses, and hope that I remember in size hours or so, to take the morning ones. Putz!
I carried out the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing first. But I didn’t fret over this reading, no doubt the falling over altercation had effected the reading, I’m sure.
The new thermometer did not work first try. Do I turned it off and back on again, and got this disappointingly low reading, again though, this is probably due to the fracas in the wet-room?
I got on the computer and started to update the Wednesday blog. Which was done in a reasonable time for once, the ailments seem to be feeling sorry for my tumble, and are being kind to me perhaps? (I might be losing it again here!)
I poddled to the wet-room, for another wee-wee, and when I got back, I noticed the veins in the left arm were almost luminescent? And, odd;y they looked a little greener than usual? When I took this photo, I used the flash, and it came out looking more strange than it really looked, but I WordPressed it anyway, cause it looked so odd. A camera glitch? Anyway, it made me think of Soylent Green. Hahaha!
Of course, it might just be one of the resident Woodthorpe Court mysterious Eidolons, Goblins, or Aliens, that are checking out my innards. The Chilli-Meatballs last night might have confused them? Chortle! Cackle! Guffaw!
I got the updating finished and sent off. Then emailed the link.
Pinterested some snaps, the got the ablutions sorted out. Well, I started to anyway. But I remembered the morning dosages needed to be taken, so returned and tool them, then back to the wet-room.
I noticed as I stripped off (a horrible, harrowing thought for you, I’m sorry. Hehe!), that I must have picked up in the tumble. Pretty scratch, though! Hahaha!
The teeth cleaning went fine.
The shaving surprisingly, only brought about two tiny weeny nicks, not worthy of mention really, but it’s too late now, I have written it. Simper!
I found one of the miniature wounds from the Accifauxpas on the right-hand knuckle. I seem to have picked up some nicks and bruises, ain’t I? However, the showering, which was something I was a smidge concerned about with the balance not yet back to normal, went great! No Dizzy Dennis’s, there was not a single clout or banging into anything, I was well pleased again.
The medicating was as smooth as could be expected! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inchies fungal lesion! The dressing was only bothered temporarily by a dodgy-wobble getting the trousers on, but I remained on my feet, Oh. Yes! This is a better day, up to now! Perhaps, my prayer and a few words to Mr G the other day had got through? Or, not! Snortle!
I was in good form after the ablutions, and set about moving the hand-washed togs about, to nearer the heater, now they had stopped dripping.
That reminds me of when I was a whipper-snapper! Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine; after I’d set and laid the fire, and done my paper rounds, I had to go to Sanderson’s Tripe & Cow Heel shop, on Arkwright Street, and wait (sometimes for hours), to claim the ham bone, once enough had been sliced and sold, 3d (Threepence it was) And heaven help me if I couldn’t get it! Dad would not be happy with me at all!
This look like the original shop, I could find a photo of when they were open. Gawd the place smelt gorgeous! Once a fortnight I had to some tripe as well. Every week, the jellied pork dripping they sold, 9p a pound (weight) was bought as well. Oh, the memories are flooding back now! Of course, when Dad was working on a Saturday, meant I had a few hours of waiting for him to arrive home. Which, in the rare event that one of the three items was unavailable; meant I had to wait for the clips around the earhole longer.
Happy days, rough, hard work. Mater kept disappearing to avoid the police, so muggins had set the fire every morning! Do the paper rounds so kindly got for me by Dad, the cooking and cleaning too. But I did feel needed, wanted, and the odd belting!
But I was content, I knew no other life! There were plenty of lads worse off than I was… I’m waffling again, Sorry about that. It’s a bad habit of mine, wandering off, on some unrelated topic. Still, I do enjoy getting these memory-prompting meanderings.
I got the black bags gathered and onto the three-wheeler-guide trolley, and had a job to do it, but got it out of the door, along, the lift lobby, and into the waste room, and deposited all the small bags down the chute.
It was deathly quiet, and no signs of any tellurians. Even the ‘Hum’ was quieter today.
Even Herbert has only been heard on two occasions up until now. I’m beginning to worry about this. He’s not one for persiflage, more your sort of taciturn, reserved, reticent, antisocial type.
The walk back to the flat along the newly, highly-attractive, ornamentally decorated and floored lift lobby.
It felt so. Haha!
Getting into the three flat’s lobby was easy enough this time, and at that moment, I was feeling better than I have for a few days, getting tired, but that’s to be expected.
But, when it came to getting into the front door, that’s the maroon one, that the workers laying the floor for us all, decorated with some gunk for me, and left it there, and I have no intention of cleaning up – Swine!, I felt the weariness take a strong grip on me, and the missing so far today, Dizzy Dennis kicked into gear.
But I was not mentally tired, only bodily. Does that make sense? I went out on the balcony to take a couple of photos of the busy scene down below on Chestnut Walk.
Blimey, we had a traffic jam! Hahaha!
I spotted some crows in the distance and snapped them, but it was not a good shot. Shame. I wanted to post them to the TFZ site, Lona might have appreciated them.
Doing some updating on this blog, and I thought I heard a clunk, it may be the belated INR WArfarin results and new dosages. It was, and the dosages had changed. Meaning, because no one from the Clinic, Anticoagulation or Deep Vein Thrombosis had informed me from the Monday test, I have been taking too few Warfarins tablets since then. This Coronvirus is most likely killing a few people without the virus!
The landline chirped and flashed. It was some woman on a recorded message again, telling e they had taken £75 something from my account for ‘Prime’, if I want to cancel this press One, so I did. Waffling on a woman with either a Chinese or Indian/Pakistani accent – I couldn’t tell if it was recorded or real voice, she was going that fat, and without a cat in ells chance of understanding anything she was saying. I rang off.
Dizzy was joined by Anne Gyna, and I gave up on the computer and got the nosh prepped.
I had a good sniff at the out of date potato cakes, and luckily, they passed the sniffing nasal-assessment, so went in the oven, and were added to the tray.
The Chilli-Con-Carne, with the added tomatoes, mild chilli seasoning, Squid vinegar, garden peas and gravy, tasted jolly good!
There was so much of it though, you can see here that I couldn’t eat it all. Titter! Seriously, it was a worthy 9.3/10 for a Flavour rating!
I was doing the washing up when Dizzy Dennis and BLB (Balance-Loss-Brian) allied to attack me. From here onwards, memory, of the night was enveloped it a vague mistiness.
When I woke up later – there was no scribbling on the notepad. I had a criminally, painful backache, and the shoulder was so painful. Signs of an Accifauxpa? But no memory. I’d not taken the evening medications, and was wearing the reading glasses?
Another mystery of life in Woodthorpe Court. Hey-Ho!
23:45hrs: I stirred back into a frustrated, imitation, a life of sorts. Yet realised that things could always be worse! Things can be so confusing, especially when one had limited education, no confidence and gets rather confused, at the drop of a hat!
Well, that’s what I thought anyway. This is not to say I was depressed, morose or down in the dumps. In fact, I was feeling in fine fettle, and would probably have gone into a deep-thinking, answer searching mode, had not the need for the morning wee-wees not arrived so urgently.
I removed my overweight, pot-bellied, decrepit, physically and mentally-impaired, multi-ailment-ridden body from the c1968, £300, second-hand recliner, grabbed Metal-Mickey and off to the wet-room I wobbled.
But it wasn’t a well-balanced hobble, and I went off-course a smidge as Dizzy Dennis joined me – at first, I was rather pleased with myself for keeping upright – unfortunately, as I put my arm out to the door to assist staying on my feet – I hit the Alarm-Wristlet on the handle. And set off the panic alarm! The chap from the Nottingham City Homes Control Room came through loud and clear, telling me activation had got through to him and asked if I was alright. I told what had happened, and apologised. He was alright about it.
But the catastrophe had delayed my visitation, and having to hold onto the leak, caused the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) to flow before I could get to the bowl! Oh, dearie me!
I passed the wee, a surprisingly forceful one, due I imagine to my starting taking the Furosemide again. So, as demanded, I had a good clean-up, and put some new PP’s on. Getting a bit low on stocks now! The urine classification had put me in the Dehydrated group this time. Just in the Drink More category. So I did! I took the medications with a lot of spring water and took another Furesomide, and two Dioctyl® capsules. Bearing in mind that yesterday, Constipation Konrad was the easy winner over Trotsky Terence in the Porcelain Throne session!
Started to update the Thursday blog. It was all done and posted… but it took me five hours! Danged Colin Cramps having a go at me now!
Made a cuppa, and got the Health Checks done.
The temperature was fine on the new touchless gismo, thermometer. Then I did the sphygmomanometerisationing. Thew SYS was don’t a little again. Which was good.
The tea had gone cold, so I piddled off to make another brew, this time Thompsons Punjana tea.
I took a snap of the morning view.
Then I returned to Computer Katey, to finish off the Facebooking, Emailing, etc., and then have a look at the new WordPress Reader pages.
I’d just made a third mug pf the, Glengettie, got it to the computer, and the belated today, summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived.
So, off to the wet-room, I trudged.
I sensed that things were not going to be over very quickly, and would be rock-hard and massive again, so got the crossword book out. ( I got a few answers in too! Smugeth-Mode-Adopted!)
When the actions started, it was grindingly slow and painful, nae… agony! Also, it took that long it pass, I should have kept on with the crosswording! Tsk!
I forgot all about the tea again and decided to get the ablutions tended to.
One of the most boring sessions for months! In total only three dropsies, no toe-stubbing, no bleeding, no walking into anything! And despite Dizzy Dennis paying me a couple of visits in the shower, no injuries or falls. Ah, no I’m wrong, I did trap my left hand as I was retrieving the razor, but that’s all! I forgot about that.
Drying off, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was Sister Jane, who I made cringed at the thought, when I told her I was stood there naked, just out of the shower. Hehehe! She said she’d ring back.
I made yet another mug of Glengettie and had some late breakfast. A pot noodle, a bag of Frazzles and a mini-cake.
Oh, yes, I live well yer know!
I had gone a little dark, and the rain was coming down without a care in the world. I took a photo through the glass in the unwanted, light & view-blocking windows, that had been designed to make things as hard as possible for a handicapped old git like me.
I then got the blue zip-up jumper washed, all done, wrung and hung above the sink.
I’d just got the mug of Glengettie to my lips, I think this must be about the sixth failed attempt to get a drink, Hahaha!Jane calling: We had a long chinwag and gossip. Some bad news followed the good news that Janet and Pete are not too bad at the moment, that cheered me up – the surprise news was Christine and Bill had both got the Coronavirus! I was missing a lot of what was said after that, as the line started to crackle and fade in and out.
Fancy buying a £2000+ mobile and getting bad reception! Hahaha! The need for a wee-wee, Fancy that? me? Hehehe? I had to flee, and am really super-glad I did, very nearly had a bad leakage problem… well alright, I did have one!
I got the woolly hat I’d washed the other day and threw the one I had on since, away. Too tight!
But this one was too loose! There’s no winning for me, is there! Wash one and it shrinks, wash another and it stretches? Note the pale, cadaver-like colour of the skin again? I started to go downhill after this, not poorly-like, just confused, no concentration and so weary. Just like the last two day? There’s a reason for this – buggered if I know worrit is!
Determined to get a mug of tea eventually, I made yet another one.
Took this zoomed-in picture of Ramsdale Crescent, with Winchester Street ar the far end. I took it so that Ohio Billumski, head honcho, and Financier of the WWRCMF (World-Wild-Red-Car-Monitoring-Faculties) at NASA, can use the numbers of red cars on the street pro-rata-wise, to analyse what went wrong with the US Elections. He’s clever you know!)
I set about uploading the taken-later photographs and came across this one. Another mystery! Where’s it of? When? What? Baffledom rules!
Tea to m… These few words in italic on the left, are all that is left of the hundreds of them I had written here yesterday! I’ll explain betterer: In the morning, I came to update this blog from here – I had a Dennis Dizzy attach, a bad one. Only minutes later, I found that all the proceeding (then) writing had disappeared from the screen? The saved version was the same? What I had done, I’ve no idea, but I worked out that I did it in minutes? (I think). This not only got me so mad with me. And made the updating take at least six times as long as it should have. I had the notes on the pad, but my writing (I use the term loosely) was mostly indecipherable. Although the memory of the meal was still fresh in my mind for some reason, and of course, the photographs in the camera helped trigger some more. So it’ll be a bit patchy, some details at times few, from here on, sorry.
No idea what I’ve missed of, of course.
I recall opening the Chinese Foul-Megaames (white beans), they were large, meally, and made a change. Looked like giant black-spotted beans. I tried one as I added them to the Chilli-Con-Carne, and liked it! Of course, now I’ve been told not to go shopping, how I can get any more beats me. Not that it should matter, I’ve got tins galore of beans in stock now, just not this variety.
Ah, well!
This photo found, obviously taken from the kitchen’s light & view-blocking windows. I can see what made me take it, it’s a quite beautiful sunset!
The Chinese Foul beans bad made the Chilli-Con-Carne much milder – I should have put some extra mild chilli seasoning into the mix, Tsk! Only two small rolls baked, and Honey flavoured yoghourt. Naughty, but nice! I think I enjoyed it, found what I think is 7/10 scribbled on the notepad.
Did some other stuff, but…
Settled to watch a Kitchen Knightmare program. I stayed awake for the first two parts of it, nodded off and it was a good four-hours of sweet Morpheus later when I woke up. All confused-like.
00:05hrs: The usual waking up wanting a wee-wee, with the innards warning me of an upcoming eruption from the innards, via the rumbling, grumbling, and quaking of the skin, literally making the folds of flesh hanging from my belly, shake, as the escapages of wind torrented away. Not only painfully, but even without my hearing aids in, I could hear the almost-musicals tones of the concinnity of the concert of escaping wind, too!
Then, as the mind gained some weak form of control over its own thoughts, the challenge of removing the bouncier than ever, bellied-body from the c1968 recliner was tackled.
A job that this morning, needed a man of steel, heroism, guts, bravery and determination to achieve; but being as I was the only person here, I had to do it myself. (Hehehe!) Clambering up onto my feet was completed with some degree of ease, but getting and keeping my balance, was a smidge difficult – even though there were no Dizzy Dennis, or Wobbling William’s bothering me. A bit worrying, that was. I took my time patiently and eventually was ready to set off for the wet room.
The wee-weeing caught me out; it was a lot more dynamic than of late (which is a good thing), and of much greater duration! The colouring put me up in the ‘Fair’ zone on the NHS Bladder-Infection grading card. And, there was no Post-Micturition After Dribbling. (It’s [Fate], doing it again, to me, fooling me by slipping in some good luck, or mock improvement medical-wise, early in the day – experience knowing full-well I’m going to suffer later) – it’s so cruel! But I wasn’t going to go into any semi-contentment or smug mode. I’m not being going to be conned again! (Well, I might be)
As I was washing my hands after taking the leak, I knocked some bits off of the floor cabinet, and I returned to the front room, to get the long picker-upperer to reach in the corner behind the loo, where the Germolene tube and Hearing-aid oils had rolled. Tsk!
I noticed how the bruise or underskin bleeding, (Which is a bruise, I suppose – waffling again, sorry!), on the back of the left hand, was getting less darker, so it might be clearing itself up? Not any pain from it, unless I bang it against something, which if not in my plans. Hahaha!
Back to WC room, reclaimed the dropped items, and off to the kitchenette, to get the kettle switched on. I peep out of unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking windows revealed a fog-and-a-half had descended. I got the Nikon camera and took a shot of the view.
Health Checks: the sphygmomanometer showed the SYS had shot back up after yesterdays respite. Now at 174, Tsk! Took the medications with spring water and then, made a note to remind me to email the Doctor later, because I need to ask about the DioctylPoo-Softeners got the thermometer into use to see if the temp had gone up any. Medications, brew and computer on and photo downloading.
As I was taking a photograph of the morning fog, a summoning came to the Porcelain Throne. To which I hastily replied with a swift, fast, hurried lightning-like rush to the WC… Well, something like that, at least I hobbled hastily there! It seems that Constipation Konrad is losing the battle again, and Trotsky Terence was in command of this visit! It will be difficult to express the changes to the nurse; each time, from one extreme to the other, I can get easily discombobulated, you know!
I cleaned up, it was a messy one; and went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And jolly decent it was.
Seeing the Chilli Con Carne cans there on the counter, I swiftly went into my Sherlock Holmesian Mode: I carried out a search and Chilli-Con-Carne shortage investigation.
I felt sure that I’d ordered three Hubbard’s cans from Sainsbury’s, and three from own label from Morrisons. I know that the Iceland shop didn’t have any of the Princes that I wanted, that bit I can recall. But: Did I put the cans somewhere else than in the kitchen? It’s possible, I suppose? So I had a reconnoitre in the other room. A degree of ferreting about produced a carrier bag, with a tin of Princes Chilli-Con-Carne, and Italian beans, and some packets of instant potato powder? And a puzzled expression on my face.
My total failure to find out what the mystery of the missing cans of Chilli-Con-Carne riddle was, Back to the computer, and bless their crooked cheating, incapable souls, Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet went down!
I made up an Iceland order. For Thursday 12th November 08:00 to 10:00hrs. Unfortunately, they have no Chilli available, Tsk! Never mind, if I can get out one day, I can call at the Poundland shop to try and get some of their cheapos.
Time to get the Ablutionalisationing done now. The session did not go too well… (Understatement time!)
It was SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) who made the first attack. (I pictured her success here on the left) I had to admire her cunning, it was the only shake she gave me in the wet room, and her timing, just as I was about to pull the old razor down my cheek, was perfection. If I’ve got to have ailments, it’s a comfort to know they will keep me on my toes, although I got caught out well with this five-second-shudder! Globdangnations!
An absolute cracker of a toe-stubbing in the shower against the chair. And nearly, but not after-all, toppled over when I hit the doorframe coming out. Not even any bruises came up, a bit of a powder-puff effort.
Got many bags of waste sorted out, onto the three-wheeled-walker guide.
Took them in a box to the waste-chute room, without any incidents or damage. Slight-Smug-Mode adopted!
I popped down to Jenny’s with some treats the three of them for the weekend, and back up to the flat. Then I made a brew of the beloved Glengettie tea.
Made a start on prepping Josies ~Sunday lunch. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters played up, I wasn’t far off of cutting myself on the opener blade, but managed just to let it fall, and nae bother. No opening of the Tuna tins after that, just in case. So I got the battered cod sticks and smoked haddock filled fish cake, and got them in the oven cooking for her. She likes the tuna as well, but too risky as Nicodemus is at the moment, I nearly cut myself slicing the tomatoes, but luckily it was only the fingernail that was sliced. Phew! Risky work this cooking today, Hehe!
I got Josie’s dinner finished off and delivered it to her door, a little late today, 12:10hrs.
I had a bit of a nasty turn as I pressed the bells on the door. Dizzy Dennis, Head-Spinning Spiros, and Balance-Loss Lesley. I wasn’t completely with it by the time Josie answered the door. I think I was only there a couple of minutes, but many blanks in the memory box of what we spoke of.
As I was, for some reason struggling to get in through the doorway, it was as if someone had put the lights back on in my head; My balance returned, Dizzy Dennis disappeared, leaving me a little puzzled as to what had just happened? Looking back at the day, it’d been an odd-one in many ways. Hey-Ho! All fine now.
But I must try to resist going into these stupid ‘Disaster-encouraging’, misleading, Smug-Modes! It only makes the guaranteed cock-up, mistake, error, loss-of, picklement-coping, Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpa, or incoming bad news, far worse to cope with ulteriorly.
I gave-in to, defeated by the sudden wave of Thought-Storms, and turned off the computer. Then opened the can of Churchills 5% beef Spicy Chilli-con-Carne, and added the remaining left-over peas from Josies’ nosh to the mix, and added a little gravy as it warmed up.
As it heated, I did some half-hearted, Stroke Recovery exercises, (Feeling guilty for not doing these more often), hoping this would help bring me into a more relaxed and contented mode. I was seemingly doing well with them… until Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, landing luckily on the plastic waste bins.
This put an instant end to any ideas of work-outs.
Getting back up was horrendously difficult, and I was close to having to press the wristlet alarm. But, somehow, I managed to crawl on all fours to Metal Mickey, and used him and the worktop to regain my stance. The mess I’d made of the waste bins was of no concern to me at that time, I was well miffed!
I got the part-baked baguette in the oven, and out some Phoirpain gel on the knees and bruises while it cooked. Took the evening medications, then got the meal served up.
This ‘Spicy’ Churchills Chilli-con-Carne, was the mildest I’ve ever tried, so much so, that I added and stirred in some chilli powder to the mix? If I can ever get to town again, I hope that the Poundland shop will have some of these in stick, or even stock.
I got the fodder consumed in its entirity, to satiety, and settled in search of sleep.
But, Sweet Morpheus was not playing fair, and the exasperating Thought Storms invaded again. Crigglebogsnot!
Finally, I drifted off. Only to be woken by I know not what, two hours later!
02:15hrs: Woke and remembered the computer not working and letting me add any photographs.
And my depression returned, immediately. Down in the dumps before I’d even thought about getting up out of the recliner! Sickeningly sorry for myself! Not interested in getting up at all, then I recalled that it’s the dentist visit early today. And that got me even more discouraged! Things ain’t going very well at the moment!
Then the double need of a wee-wee and the porcelain Throne arrived together. A funny, rare feeling that! So, off to the wet room. For one of the messiest-ever evacuations. It seems that Trotsky Terence is fighting back! Tsk!
I had a lengthy cleaning up spell, ashed and went to the kitchenette to do the Health Checks and make a brew. The BP was SYS 75, Dia62, and Pulse 85. The thermometer reading was 34.4°c. The shame of not being able to photograph them, no point if the bloody computer is not going to recognise the drives. I sank even lower into the darkness of depression.
On the computer to make a template, and even that wasn’t easy. Various ailment attacked and completed the job lengthy, hard work, and got on my goat!
Then a Porcelain Throne No.2 was needed. Not as bad as the first one, but still messy.
Back to the computer and eventually got the updating done, emailed the link, Facebook and WordPress Reader section visited. This task took me a few hours to achieve.
Then, the Porcelain Throne No.3 was needed. Back to chronic Trotsky Terence’s control; a mess and cleaning up gain. What’s happening?
Did a start to this blog, but time beat me, I was too slow to achieve much, thanks to SSS and Nicolas, mainly. Now, I had to get the ablutions done, or I may be late for the dentist, and I know that the shaving must not be rushed, my EQ has just warned me? Hehe! Back in a bit, I hope…
(Continued from arriving home after the Dentist’s visit and some shopping, and a miracle, the photos are now being read and accepted again?!?!)
Ablutiuonalisationing: I did take my time in shaving, and no cuts at all. A few dropsies overall, about ten, but no injuries whatsoever! But no showering cause it was too early, a stand-up bath of sorts. A Swank and Smug Mode Adopted! Fair enough, there was just the one walking into the door frame on leaving, but of no consequence, a feather-duster blow.
I got some bags made up and taken to the waste-chute. And before leaving to go to the dentist, I started Computer Katie and tried to load the photos again, Well I was flabbergasted, my flab has never been so ghasted! They were accepted! So, not feeling confident about this, I uploaded yesterday’s pictures to CorelDraw straight away.
Which meant I needed to hurry a little now, before setting out on my trip to Mansfield Road, Sherwood taking the gravel hill up into Woodthorpe Grange. The layered evening sky shots, one to the left, straight ahead and to my right.
The others were of the Chilli-Con-Carni evening meal I had, then the and well enjoyed evening meal. I added some passata, mil chilli seasoning, bags of potatoes and some Balsamic vinegar to the mix.
If I recall correctly, it was an 8.5/10 for flavour rating! Hence the well scraped with the bread thins dish. A lemon mousse dessert, and I even left a slice of the bread uneaten. But then again, I’d put a load of spuds in with it. Hehehe! Slurp!
Yee-Ha! But I’ll wait until I try putting the ones on taken today before I get too excited! I took the little Canon camera with me, and as I went out of the lobby door, I spotted my first photographable thing, a large moth I think, on the glass of the filthy lobby windows.
I got a message on the camera ‘This card needs formatting and clearing before using’. Oh, ‘ecky thump! So I went back into the flat and swapped it for an old SD card, and tried that, I’m glad to say, it was accepted. Phew!
I thought I was doing well, I got down in the lift to the lobby, and out across Chestnut Walk and started up the gravel path, into Woodthorpe Grange Park. I got about half-way up, and the breathing was difficult, and I took my first breather. Had to have another break as well before I got up to the top.
But things improved once I was on level ground. In fact, it sloped a bit, and my scrawny, Clopidogrel pot-marked, short little legs got a belt on then, and no breathing problems.
The weather was not bad at all, and I soon found myself at the bottom and turning left along Mansfield Road.
Where I saw this Pavement Cyclist coming towards me, and he just rode on the road against traffic, and right in front of a white van coming out of Trevose Gardens, then back on the pavement and I had manoeuvre out of his way! As he shot by me close, he shouted ‘Couldn’t’… Ah, I see now, it was most likely a naughty word that sounded similar!
The poor mite was likely scared to death to go on the road, but the fungal-face, frigging, flipping, fuck-tard, facinorous, factious, foul-mouthed, fellow can’t help himself, I wished I could have helped him – to fall into the road and get ran-over! But I jest, of course. I think. Scumball! Gragglespitgurgler!
Up the hill, and down to the Co-op Store, where my weakness for food shopping was controlled to a degree! But when they have Sourdough batches on sale, and Frazzles in stock, one is going to be tempted! Hehehe!
Back up the hill, timing it well, (it was just good luck that I wasn’t late) to get there on time. The first challenge for me was bringing up the three steps with the walker-guide and shopping bag, walking stick and umbrella, not to mention the stuff bought at the Co-op shop. Hehehe! I made a hash of it, and some staff came to have a look what the noise and kerfuffle, was all about.
It was fun trying to talk with the receptionist, though. I’m not sure who heard less of what the other was saying! Anyway, they told me to sit down, and came over to me with questions, etc., the major embarrassment was my not knowing my landline number. Went through medical changes from the last visit – she was sorry she asked me, I think, I did go on a bit telling her of the Peripheral Neuropathy, the Stroke, the Diabetes and Saccades Sandra.
I got the crossword book out, and the other receptionist came over, asking if I could manage the stairs up the two floors to the surgery. I said its a struggle, but I made it last time. The other lady joined us, and she told me she’d arranged for me to go into the ground floor room to be done. But it will not be my usual dentist. I hid the beaming smile under my facemask, I’ve never liked him anyway, he’s curt and uninterested, plus he enjoys testing the teeth with venom and gusto, and only stops after I have cringed or said ‘Ow!’ This news cheered me up a tad!
A minute or so later, a young lady (I still notice these things you know! Haha!), arrived and escorted me to a surgery; where the female dentist set about asking the right questions, (whether she was absorbing the answers, I don’t know) but she was a lot gentler with her prodding. I pointed out the tooth that was giving me a little pain, and that there was a hole in the tooth. This didn’t seem to bother her, and she took some X-rays and declared my teggies as being okay. She gave me paperwork to hand to the receptionist when I pay her. I thanked her and wobbled to the reception desk.No receipt for the money spent, mind?
Now hear this – for it is the truth: The receptionist said she had arranged for a ground floor surgery to be used on my next visit, took the money and gave me an appointment on a Thursday, for 13th May 2021 @ 09:00hrs. Then, the other receptionist came out and helped me down the lethal steps, bless her, and a chap passing by came and steadied me when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances as I was going down the steps. All very embarrassing, yet heartwarming at the same time. ♥
I made my way to the Ozan Continental Food store. Where I lost it completely with all that food around me, and got carried away without a care in the world about whether I needed the stuff or just fancied it! I came across the Krakus canned Boczek and bought a tin, the none of Golonkowa, erm, then a Lopatka and Moussaka… a can of Monalisa Foul Mecames, a can of sausage and beans and Roasted fresh Meat Loaf. I must curtail my fondness of food foraging!
The meatloaf Ingredients: Pork 40%, Chicken meal 20%, drinking water with root vegetables, carrots, parsnips, & peas, breadcrumbs, onion, garlic, nitrate salt, marjoram, and burnt sugar. Well, I’ll give it a go with some of the Sourdough bread later I got, later…
♫ Oh, the good life, full of food seems to be the ideal,
Mmm, The good life lets you eat Marmite and cow-heel,
You won’t fall in love for you can’t take the chance
Overeat and destroy romance, and lose your balance… ♫
A little bit of silliness there, sorry, no charge! Hehehe!
I strode up Mansfield Road and right onto, Winchester Street to await a bus up the hill back home. Thinking, well dreaming, of little other than the meatloaf I’d bought, and the butter to go on the sourdough bread batch, and tomatoes…
The pipping of the car horns brought me out of my foodstuffs-reverie. A dirty astonishing massive lorry was trying to turn around on Winchester Street to make a delivery perhaps, or had he seen how steep the road was and had a lot of weight one? I know about having a lot of weight on, you know!
The bus driveress, handed me a leaflet to read, about a service where we can travel for half-fare and get picked up from the flats, well that’s worth looking into.
We were soon back at Winwood Heights, and someone unknown helped me off at the bus stop. Thank you, muchly ♥.
I hobbled along and called in at the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), holding cell, interrogation room and office, to have a word with Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden Deana. No one in. I’ll ring, later on, and I must ask her to ring the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, to make sure they are not going to let me down with the medications again.
I poddled along to Woodthorpe Court and into the lift cage, hello, some wet on the floor I found. No idea what it was, so I avoided treading in it.
Up to the 12th floor, and out and into the apartment. I had a wee-wee first, (How surprising, Hehe!)
Then I got the purchases stored away, after checking them out.
On closer inspection, I was greatly disappointed to see that the roasted meatloaf I’d purchased, had a use-by date of only three days! Never mind, I intended to eat it tonight, so no problem. It’s just that I now fancied some Chilli-Con-Carne instead. Humph!
I telephoned Dean later, and she will come to see me later on this afternoon, she has an important meeting on first.
I made a brew and got on with updating this blog. Thankfully, the computer is currently accepting and recognising the SD card reader.
I spotted the note wot I wrote to remind me about the dentist. A good job I remembered innit?
I had a look at the ‘YourArea’ email magazine thingy, for any up to date Coronavirus figures. This is all I found, but the Red Alert has been removed from the site.
This is for Nottinghamshire.
Well, no Deana yet, and it’s now gone my meal start time, and I’ll need to get some kip in soon. I’ll bet the meeting Deana’s at is one of those on-and-on sessions. I want to wash and strip off ready, but it would be too much of a shock for the gal if she came then. Hahaha!
But, I need to know about the medications soon, especially with the new ones supposedly going on the monthly list. I’m surprised that Chemist owner Deepak hasn’t answered my email, it was him that told me to send one when I was three days away from running out? Well, now in the morning, I’ll only have sufficed medications in stock, for tomorrow alone. Oh, dear!
I want to get the nosh prepared, but, oh, well. Sleep escapes me again. My fault for going to kip so early, mind you, but not today!
Got the meal prepared. I opened the meatloaf, and got it slices, and tried a nibble, in case I was not too fond of it. The vegetables were chunky, the garlic and chilli in the meat were strongish (for my tastes), but I quite liked it all the same.
Got the Sourdough bread sliced (No cut fingers, although a few dropsies doing it). Put the beans with the mild chilly seasoning and tomatoes from the saucepan into the dish—a flavour rating of 7/10. But the meatloaf was tasty enough.
I got the TV on to accompany me while I ate the fodder, and as I noted a Kitchen Nightmare was coming up soon, so as I finished the food, I went and got the washing up done.
The view from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen windows was impressive. I took a couple of photos, and one down onto Chestnut Walk.
The iconic IRCMS (International Red Car Monitoring Services) (Ohio Branch), top head supremo, Billumski Zeighyler, will note there are three red vehicles on this Chestnut Walk view tonight. One moving a bit rapidly? Yes!
Doing the pot washing resulted in a few, I’m afraid to say.
I know have one less, nae, in fact, no drinking glasses left now – doomed to be smashed on the floor, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure!
Carefully I collected the glass, taking particular care not get any cuts.
But I did clout my shoulder against the sink getting back up again from the floor. Huh!
Emptying the bowl, SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley started, and the floor had to be mopped dry, and body towelled. Oy, Oy, Oy!
The only painful part, was when I banged the Cartilage Cathy little finger on the tap (faucet). That stung a bit!
I eventually got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, senescent, hoary, worn-out, rickety recliner, and turned on the TV.
My £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, mobile rang forth and flashed. (This may not describe exactly, the model of my mobile, but near enough, Hahaha!)
A distant sounding voice, that seemed possibly Polish or Latvian, (No lousy language heard) began to mouth-off, moaning about a taxi or something. By the time I got into the one-way conversation and told the man, I was not a taxi company; he rang off immediately. Ah, well! I hope the gentleman got his cab after all.
Resettled in the recliner once again, I took the medications, and the Gordon Ramsay programme came on. I’d seen it before, so turned off the set. This was when the Thought-Storms exploded, with concerns and worries. Will the cpmputer still recongnise the Card reader? – Why did the dentist tell me the tooth was alright; when it obviously isn’t? – Will I remember to try and catch Deana again to ask her to ring the chemist for me about the prescriptions? – Why on earth did I buy the meatloaf? How do I find someone to cut my ever longer and getting warped toe-nails? – I must get to call in the opticians to get my glasses adjusted – Why did I go a complete day without a leg-dance of any note? (not complaining though) – There is someting else I had to remember for Friday, I know there is, but what?
But SSS shook me out of the mindset I was in, and in doing so, I knocked the TV remote and tablet tray that was resting in the folds of my flabby-stomach belly down between the recliner and chair – And they can stay there!
03:10hrs: I woke in a bit of a panic today. The need for a wee-wee has never been more urgent! Hehehe! Somehow I managed to get my flabby, obese-bellied, and skinny limbed body, free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy, yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. Got Metal Mickey (four-pronged walking stick), and waddled off to the wet room. Noticed some signs of nocturnal nibbling en route!
Disappointingly, I cracked the right shoulder against the door frame. Somewhat off-putting, as I had been doing so well in the distance-reading the last two days. Ah, well! The wee-wee was of the JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode, which caught me out a bit. Haha! Cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. Got the kettle on and had to make back for the wet room smartly, as the sudden bubbling, brewing, and rumbling from the innards kicked off.
Oh, dear, what a session. Pure pain, lots of blood, but at least it wasn’t messy. Had a go at the crossword-book while waiting for the movement to restart itself, it stopped part-way again! The cistern did not clear the evacuated product and needed assistance from a few jugs of water manually deposited in the Porcelain Throne, and four, I say, four, flushes, and still there were bits of TP not cleared! It’s a challenge these days, going to the toilet!
Back to the cold tea in the kitchen. (Tsk!) And I got the Health Checks done. The BP figures were reet-grand. The thermometer started working again (it beat me why, too?). A result of 62.4°f, that’s about right as well! Took the medications.
Did some thought-graphics, and made a template up. Then got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, and most pleasingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was only giving me short bursts this morning. And with the absence of Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun as well, I got the updating done in good time. Got it posted off to WordPress, emailed the link, and answered a comment on WP.
I celebrated with another mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took this picture on the right, then went on the WordPress Reader section.
With the beautiful, nae, voluptuous vampire nurse due, and a possible delivery from Amazon (sleeves of long-life milk – I live well!), I’d better get the ablutions tackled early. Knowing my luck, because I’ve remembered to do this, they will all come late, I suppose. (My confidence, élan, positivism, and decisiveness are at an all-time low, you know! Hey-Ho!) Back in a bit…
I’m back now. And can report a much betterer session today! No shower, too early in the day for that with the noise it makes.
The feet were looking almost normal when I started and signs of bruising from the toe-stubbing. The teeth were cleaned without any hassle or bother.
The shaving was the problem area, and at the same time, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked in! The result was two neck cuts, a chin nick, and a hard to stop bleeding nip behind the ear hole. I can’t understand why hairs grow behind the ear-holes so much, and none on the head!
The medicationalisationing went even smoother. Mind you, Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding.
I got the unshakeable, ineffaceable feeling that today was going to be full of such strangenesses. Aye, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; To scare the bejesus out of, annoy, unnerve, and put the wind up the old energumenist, Inchcock. Yes, they were on their way! My EQ is rarely wrong.
Having completed the ablutions, medicationalisationings and got some clothes on, I got the waste bags made up and onto the trolley with a white bag of recyclables. Then set-off to the waste room in the lift lobby. Got the small bags down to the caretaker’s big bin.
I had a little natter with Robert, and then made my way back to the Woodthorpe Court lobby entrance, taking this rather natty Well, I like it) photograph before entering the building.
I poddled through to the lift lobby and waited for the elevator to arrive. Again, not any folks around whatsoever to have a natter with. Shame that! The resident’s lift came straight away. Into the cage, I popped and pressed the 12th-floor’s button.
Regretfully, then Peripheral Pete launched one of his involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler right leg dance routines, and I fell forward over the trolley-guide. I caught the Alarm button as I put my hand out to stop going all the way down.
The button flashed, and I thought, “I’m in trouble now!” But, nothing happened, no sounding bells or klaxons, nothing happened. Which was lucky for me, I thought! The Schuplatter dance lasted only a few seconds, and apart from the Osteoarthritis in the little finger, or whatever it is, no injuries. * This reminded me, the Doctor in the stroke ward, said she’d arrange a visit for me with a rheumatologist. Still, with the flipping Coronavirus bother, it’ll have to wait, I suppose.
Come think of it, I might be confused over this, it could have been a Cardiologist, Nephrologist, Geriatric Phycologist, Vascular Phycologist, or even a Psychological Neurologist? Hahaha!
I got out of the elevator and got into the flat. As I was putting the three-wheeler in the corner of the mini-hallway – I got such a shock! The fire alarm in the flat, burst into life! Klaxon blaring, red light flashing –Oh, heck! My head was about three feet away from the blaring Klaxon!
No panicking, though. Well, maybe a tiny bit! Humph! I checked each room and cupboard, no signs of any fire. I then rang Deana to let her know, Deana said the alarm had not activated on her panel? Comforting to know that!
Deana arrived at the flat. The gal was very relaxed and calm about things, which was more than I was, I had a sense that I had done something wrong, yet I knew that I hadn’t. Shortly, there were three fire-tenders on site!
Deana went out to greet the emergency services. A fireman appeared with Deana. The fireman wanted to know what precisely I had been doing. So I told him; I’d got back in the flat from taking the waste down to the rubbish bin, put the walker in the corner, and the fire alarm activated. He suggested I have a visit from the team to offer support on avoiding fires. Fair enough, I said, although I have never had a fire in my life.
He reset the alarm and then poddled off. I got the podded peas into the saucepan, all ready to cook later on. Very lovely, they tasted raw, as well! Not many left for the nosh now, and I found some from yesterday’s podding session. Haha!
Then, Nurse Hristina arrived. Patiently listened to my tale of woe with the alarm as she took the blood. She was in a rush but remained friendly and kind to me.
I began to update the blog again, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was the Fire Brigade; they will be calling on me tomorrow, around 14:30hrs.
I went back to updating this blog. Then, and guess what?
This crap service from Mr Fries makes me sick! But, I was warned of bother coming today, by my EQ!
I got the oven on and some battered fish cooking. I got the garden pea’s saucepan, on a low heat setting.
Internet back on, but deadly slow, now!
Then the door chimes rang out. I said it was going to be a busy day! Humph! It was milk sleeves arriving. I opened the door, and they were on the door frame outside. I got them opened and put some in the fridge. There was a good shelf life on them!
At last, something had gone right! Hurrah!
The fodder was about cooked, so I turned everything off, it was close to my regular head down-time anyway. I got the nosh served up. A jolly decent flavour-rating of 8/10 fish nosh. I washed the pots and got a bottle of spring water, and in the recliner, sleep searching.
There followed a series of botherations, that encapsulated Sweet Morpheus attempts, ideally;
: A landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed!
: Ten minutes later, a landline call: TheDoctors surgery with the results and new Warafrin INR doses: Tonight 2.5, then 2 nightly until Monday 24th August, the next Blood Test date. Scribbled details on the note pad. I got back in the c1968 recliner, well tired.
: Another landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” I said nothing when I picked up the handset, recorded talking in the background. Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed!
: Half-an-hour or so later, yet another landline call: “I’m from Visa, there has been a £4000 transaction on you… Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! I scribbled down notes on each call on the pad.
The Thought-Storms began, and I was so annoyed at these damned con-calls! The last time when I did some searching, the number was registered in London, a further search on the web, revealed those I had then, were from Nigeria and Albania.
It took me hours to get the mind free enough to almost nod off, and the landline burst forth and flashed again! I ignored it.
No chance of sleep now, I put on the TV and headphones.
– A tired, almost angry, frustrated and bewildered Inchcock, gave up and decided to get on the computer. The very moment I attempted to shuffle my short-plump, overweight podgy body from the £300, second-hand recliner… Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, and Colin Cramps joined in on my legs and feet!
So I acquired some new bruises, crawled back into the rickety recliner, and sort of sulked and felt sorry for myself! But the Thought-Storms, fears, frustrations, and events of this wickedly tormenting day, flowed. 03:00hrs, I got up for a wee-wee, and stayed up!
04:15hrs: The moment I woke up, the memories of the ‘dodgy’ phone call from last night flooded back. I laid and stewed thinking about it, wondering what to do about it. Thankfully, the need of a wee-wee arose, breaking my train of thoughts. I disentangled my grossly big and wobbly-bellied body from the c1968 recliner. Got Metal Mickey the four-pronged walking stick) and off to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and took an RSP (Reluctant-Sprinkly-Painful) type, wee-wee.
I spotted signs of nocturnal nibbling, Guilt-Mode-Engaged!
No demand for the Porcelain Throne, that was a rarity.
Took the bucket and cleaned and sanitised it, washed the hands and off to the kitchen for the important stuff, a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea.
Took a photo of the morning view, and set about getting the Health Checks sorted.
The sphygmomanometer readings were a little better today, the SYS was down a fair bit, I’m glad to report.
I nearly injected a hypo of Enoxaparin. I stopped myself in time, and wondered how I could have thought to do this in the first place? Still, if one didn’t recognise that you make mistakes, you’d never know the difference between confidence and ability! Too many people in my life have shown over-confidence and conceitedness to con their way up the ladder – but with a minimum of ability. Just thought I’d mention it, like! But when I was last made redundant, the chap they kept on, was caught stealing from them a month or two later. Hehehe!
I got on with updating the Monday blog and despite the occasional attacks from Shaking Shaun, did it in a reasonable time. Pinterested some photos, went on the WordPress Reader.
Jenny called me on the landline and put me into a more stable frame of mind. When she told me that she had had similar phonecalls, and they would all be cons! Bless her!
I had an updating session on Facebook, then time approached for me to get the ablutions done. And what a mixed bag of a session this one was!
ABLUTIONALISATIONALISTICISATIONING REPORT:
I got through the doorway, without any walking into, banging into, knocking over anything, or losing my balance! Smug-Mode-Partially-Adopted!
Then stubbed my toes against the enamel on the sink riser!
Cleaning the teeth went almost painlessly, and with only two dropsies!
Bit of a disappointment in the shaving department, five dropsies, and four cuts, but not serious ones. The cartilage in the fingers, mostly to blame.
The showering went well, only three-dropsies! The showerhead (which did not land on my toes this time!), and the shower gel bottler (2).
The towelling drying off had a couple of close calls, I almost had the things off of the floor cabinet twice, but somehow they rattled together, some fell, but nothing fell on the floor! Great!
The medicationalisationing was a lengthy grind today. I’ a smidge worried about using so much of the Phorpain Gel, considering the new warning notes in the boxes, about folks having their body parts burst into flame when they were too close to a heat source. (Not joking!)
I had no option but to use the gel on the usual areas, knees, right ankle, wrists and shoulders. But today, the cartilage in the fingers was worse than they’ve ever been, so I gave the fingers on the right hand a good dubbing. I just hope that any visitors today, are not smoking. Hahaha!
The furuncles had to be ointmentated, very carefully, to avoid any of the Chlorhexidine cream getting on to Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and conversely, with the Germoloid Cream! Fiddly work! I should have been a Doctor you know. Hahaha!
Oiled the ear canals, sprayed eyes for Saccades, and Chlorhexidine creamed the bruises, with no bother.
A bit of a challenge in getting down to the ankle ulcer and Oedema creams. But the long picker-upper and some ingenuity on my part, although I made a right mess of doing it, meant it was easy enough, if complicated. Haha!
However, I was in two minds whether it needed doing (the ulcer), cause it looked like it was virtually cleared up now, compared to yesterday? Almost just freckles showing? Although it was still stinging a bit. All confusing!
Then, the most painful I’d left until last. (Coward! Tsk!) Little Inchies fungal lesion, applying the Fluconazole hydrocortisone cream was done. It didn’t bother me at all!
Abltionalisationing Advice available, to other multi-ailment sufferers. At cheap rates!
Got the PPs and trousers on, and off to the kitchen to make a brew of Morrison’s Extra Strong Assam Tea!
Stroke of bad luck as I was putting the milk back into the fridge. The damn right leg suddenly went into an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine! I didn’t go over mind, I grabbed at the fridge door for balance; which caused all of the things, aluminium cooking tray, foils dishes etc. to tumble from the refrigerator top! Grigglebogsblowit! I spent a long time, trying to reshape some of the trays, and get them back up again. The lost amazing thing about the incident is not the bruise I got on my left leg, how I avoided going over, or my not dropping the milk, but the flaming noise they made! Hehehe! I bet Herbert heard it!
I made another brew of Glengettie Gold this time, to replace the Assam brew that had gone cold as I cleared up the mess. And gingerly got the milk out of the cooler, and even more carefully, put it back!
Herbert started to bang and knock from above! Whether it was due to my noisy calamity, I have no idea.
I took a shot through the balcony window.
At long last, I started to create this blog. And the landline burst forth and flashed again. It was my Brother-in-law, flat breaker, Cancer suffering, going bald after his Chemo, Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred, Pete.
We had a jolly good natter. Poor lad, his hair is coming out faster after his third session in the nuclear chemotherapy-pump. But he says he enjoyed talking to others in the same boat at the hospital. Last night the bloke woke up feeling sick, and he was. I think this is not a bad thing, as the bodies natural defences are telling him they want to rid the innards of some sort of danger. Easy for me to say, I know, but I believe this.
Pete’s always been a bit of Charles Atlas type, fit, rarely been ill with it (Makes me sick! Hehe, only joking, Pete!) So it’s only natural he’s going to struggle to cope with this cancer. Mind you, he did once fall asleep on the arm of the setee, fell off and broke his neck! Not a lot of people can say that! Hahaha!
Pete mentioned my blog message about the phoney phone call I got, from someone claiming to be from Visa. He also thinks it was a con-job.
We managed to have a laugh between ourselves, said our farewells, and I went to make yet another brew, this time of Glengettie. The tea had gone cold again. Tsk!
Got some Comments answered. Well, the comment, answered. Then did some more updating of this post.
Still no signs of any Porcelain Throne requirements?
I went to make another mug of tea, Glengettie Gold. (I’ve a thirst on today?)
Went out in the balcony and took these three pictures of the parked cars along Chestnut Walk. Not many spaces available, I can’t see any, in fact?
Hello, Herbert’s giving me some more tip-tap knocking again. I wonder what he’s making this time?
The weather is looking a bit threatening. Might be storm clouds, but they are fast-moving in an Easterly direction.
By the time they turn to rain, the clouds might have moved to Skegness. Haha!
Christ! Herbert’s banging and thudding away again now!
I’ll get some garden peas shelled methinks. Perhaps have a fishcake sarnie, peas and tomatoes later? Or not. A rough estimate of peas loss: 20 – Found or retrieved: 8. Humph!
Hell, Herbert! Give us a(swear word removed) rest from the banging and tap-tapping will yer!
I’ll get the meal prepped. Wholemeal bread thins, buttered and filled with tomatoes with a bit of onion salt. Surimi sticks, red potato-fritters, and fresh garden peas. A mini apple pie and lemon yoghourt.
Taste Rating: 6/10.
I did the washing up, then for once, I eagerly got down in the recliner to watch some TV. The cause of this avidity was I could get the headphones on, thus not have to listen to Herbert’s tap-tap, clunking! I realised that getting to sleep was not going to be an option.
Within a few minutes, the landline flashed. It was the delightful Vampire Nurse Hristina, telling me she would be arriving to take my blood in the morning, twixt 10:00>11:00hrs in the morning. I thanked her and got settled down again.
An episode of Law & Order was starting. Then a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. No rest for Inchy tonight! Krickus!
What a bloody affair it was! Much cleaning and medicationalisationing required. Cribblebogangonies!
I got settled down again. Praying for some rest, anything so precious as sleep would be a sweet bonus.
Ten minutes or so later, I could hardly believe it, the landline lit up and flashed again! It was the QMC’s Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic. The kind lady told me to take 2½ Warfarin tonight, and a blood test will be arranged for tomorrow. (I was getting a little confused and muddleheaded!) I thanked her and then pondered a while.
I’d taken 2 Warfarin already, so went to get a half a tablet to take. But, foolishly ended up taking the whole 2½ that she’s mentioned. Thus, I’ve have taken 4½ Warfarin now (I think?). Gragnankles!
Back to the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, sickeningly beige-coloured, recliner again. (The exercise will do me some good perhaps? Haha!)
Wrote some notes on the pad to remind me of evenings farce for this diary. Then turned off the TV, and with hopes of sleep, I covered my head and eyes with the thin quilt and then waited for Sweet Morpheus to arrive…
An hour later, having not being able to stop the Thought-Storming, I thought that turning the TV back on might help me get asleep. Ha!
I needed a wee-wee. Struggled out of the rickety recliner again, and to the wet room. Getting back, I gave myself as good a toe-stubbing as possible on the corner of the Ottoman. Granglespithowlations!
A sort of evening (and day really!) that I could have done without!
And to think, a nearby neighbour, in Brookfield Place, two-up two-down terrace housing, right next to the railway viaduct in the Meadows area of Nottingham, nearly seventy years ago, a grand chap called Mr Wright, always used to address me as, ‘Lucky!’
02:45hrs: I woke up with an astronomical vagueness all around me. It took me a long time to gather my distant, reluctant thoughts into some form of semi-logicality. Suffice to start arranging and forging some kind of recognisable sense out of them!
The distractedness of last night had not fully cleared away yet. The fuzziness began to clear, and be replaced with the worries, needs, and plan-making for today.
I realised that the new window cleaner was coming today, also that I had planned yesterday to get the kitchen cleared to give him access to the windows, and I had not done so! Fertummelt! This task became my priority.
I struggled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, grabbed the stick, caught my balance, and limped to the kitchenette. The most urgent thing was to get the window ledge cleared. Not an easy task, Dizzy Dennis was on the attack! For much of the time, I needed to use the four-pronged metal walking stick, which made progress slow down to a pathetic level. Then, thankfully Dennis calmed down.
I was annoyed with myself when I saw the recycling bottles that I’d forgotten to take down with me yesterday! Clunk-head!
I took a snap of the window afterwards and tried to catch my reflection in the picture. Hehe! The bald head and the bulging flabby stomach tend to stick out a bit. I’ve just noticed when putting the photo in, how much the man breasts tend to protrude, too! Hahaha!
The summoning from the innards for my attentions being suddenly needed at the Porcelain Throne arrived. I wasted no time and beat a path (although a slightly wobbly one) to the wet room. Oh, what an improved, less painful session it was! It still hurt, of course, but compared to the last couple, it was heavenly! Also much quicker and not messy at all! Mind you, it left a pong that was not very pleasant. Ah-well!
Back to the kitchen, and got the Health Checks sorted.
Oh, ‘eck! The SYS had shot up again? The body temperature showed as just, ‘Low’. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana.
Got the computer on, and had to make a head-top graphic, due to failure to make one yesterday! Humph!
I updated the Wednesday post and sent off the email link. Then made another brew, of Glengettie tea. (a thirst on me this morning!)
I took two shots of the morning view, the first in Aperture Priority, the second in Auto mode. I think the Auto one wins for more accurate colour?
Got caught up with WP comments, and then Facebooking.
I had a look on Amazon to see if they still had the cheaper offer on the Dettol lavender disinfectant. They had, but it said, ‘Only one left in stock, and unsure if any more will be available’. So muggins here, the favourite retailers type of shopper, ordered it. Then had a desperate last search for brown trousers available in my size. And bought some. I noticed an offer on Domestos. And bought some! Is there such a disease or illness called AGI, Amazon-Gullible-Idiot, I wonder?
Had a go at the WordPress Reader, then off to get the ablutions done.
– : What a palava! After the two reasonable, indeed, good, last two sessions. It was back to the regular ablutioning experiences, with the Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxparing this morning.
Ablutionalisationing Injury Communique
The teeth cleaning set Toothache Thomas on the rampage! Then I stabbed myself in the gum with the toothpick!
I broke a razor! (Gawd knows how, but there you are!)
Dropped the foam spray, razors (4), and cut me near my earhole shaving. (See below, it was a most artistic of bleeds. Beautiful original job!)
Trying to make sure I didn’t stub the toe when moving the shower chair, I banged my poor old, already multiple-bruised right arm again! Gramshackles!
I tooketh the shower, and clouted my right arm on the shower box, when I had mini-dizzy, seconds later, I hit my left arm on the grab bar! (Now I was getting so annoyed with myself, and using naughty language!)
It had to happen I suppose, with me being so wound-up, I stubbed the toe against the shower seat legs as I moved it back after taking the shower! The language was getting a tad bluer, now!
I dried off without any problems. (There, I got something right. Hehehe!)
I dropped the Cortisone tube, and during the medicating, Little Inchies fungal lesion began bleeding! Humph!It took a bit of stopping!
The rear end furuncle became inflamed at I applied the Germoloid cream to Harold’s Haemorrhoids! I had quite a few tender areas stinging at the same time now! It wasn’t pleasant. Hahaha!
Leaving the room, I had a ‘drift-to-the-right’ episode, and clouted my right arm on the doorframe, yet Again!
No doubt about it, I was pleased to get out of there, and for the incidents to be over! Most annoying, especially as the previous couple of ablution efforts, had gone so well!
The right arm has taken a bashing lately. I just don’t seem able to judge distances accurately anymore. Peripheral Neuropathy?
But, I was pleased I’d got a photograph of the artistic bleeding during the shaving nick bother. Do you think I might stand a chance of getting an offer from the Tate Gallery? Hehe! How the blood ran the route it did, I found surprising. Hey-ho!
A mug of tea, and back on the computing. 09:10hrs and no show from the window cleaner yet. Of course, this started me of twittering, fretting and almost convinced I must have got the day or timing wrong. (I’ve no confidence lately either) The chap arrived ten minutes later.
Did a quick, efficient job, and charged me £15 quid for the windows and sliding balcony. Did a fair good job. Booked me in again for a month’s, September the third at the same time, I think he said.
Herbert above was doing some tap-tapping and knocking again. I wonder if he is making a wardrobe from scratch? As long as he’s happy. Which is saying something for a laconic taciturnist like John (Herbert) is, compared to an argle-bargle, deipnosophist type bloke, like wot I am! Hehehe!
I made up an order for Iceland and then did a search for a word that I cannot remember. It means someone who is not talkative or revealing. I wanted it to put in the paragraph above, but can’t find it. Gribbledukes! I might not, well, I do not know what the word, but feel confident I’ll know it when I see it. Tsk!
I pressed on with this blog, and the door chimes rang out. It was the postman, delivering my last pack of 6 long, lambswool socks (for winter, if I make it) I stupidly ordered from Amazon. They have soft diabetic top grippers. Now I will be alright for socks, anyway. I’ve probably got more than enough pairs to see myself out. So in the event of my croaking out, I’ve put them in the airing cupboard, for anyone who fancies them.
Got the oven on and put the smoked haddock flavoured fishcakes, in. I must remember to add the fries in ten-minutes. Then hopefully, they will both be ready at the same time, but, ‘best laid-plans’ and all that!
I got the latest figures for Covid-19.
Then I tended to the nosh making duties. The sky was looking good, well, I mean the clods. Even if they were a tad on the dark side.
The fatigue arrived, a little late than usual, and I gave up on computerisationing and got the meal prepared.
And what the festival of a feast it was, too! The smoked haddock filled fish cakes were so moreish! The last of the truffle fries were used (Iceland no longer stock them, Boo!). The surimi stick enjoyed, The Piccolo tomatoes excellent, as was the egg mayonnaise! A well-worthy 8.5/10 for flavour-rating!
I got te pots washed, and settled down in the £300, c1968, unkempt, rusty, rickety, not operational, sickenly beige-coloured, uncomfortable, harmful to haemorrhoids, grotty recliner. Turned of the TV, and chose something to watch, and drifted off into the land of bliss within minutes!
– I woke in a bit of the panic, the need for the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) was indeed urgent! The diabetes PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) tinkled away well before I got the bucket! The SSPO (Short-Sharp-Painful-Orange) variety release was soon over, and off I went to the wet room to clean up, disinfect the bucket, and change the PPs. Walking into the doorframe as I went in. This right arm is going to have more bruises than ever! It’s already tender, just putting a coat or jacket on hurts. Hey-ho!
As I got back to the recliner to sit down, the right leg burst forth with an involuntary right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, ending up on my bum on the floor, banging the right arm on the way down, and in agony from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the leg just kept on kicking out for a minute or so. I stubbed a toe against the metal leg of the swivel chair!
Not one of my easier Accifauxpas. Claggknackles!
Miraculously, no severe damage, just pain and frustration, oh, and the long-winded challenge of getting my humungously-large flabby-bellied body, up and into the seat!
I was sure the grey-cells would start chewing things over, and Thought Storms would arrive. I was so wrong! No joking… I nodded off, as Sweet Morpheus came, and slept for… wait for it… Seven-hours! Unbroken at that!
01:30hrs: I stirred gently and slowly into imitation-life. Rather surprisingly, not needing a wee-wee?
The brain wasn’t all that interested in operational duties for a while. I disentangled my over-stomached body from the second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner. That my xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred Brother-in-law Pete broke, when he was searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electrics, and Pete played with them. Now the recliner no longer works!
I caught my balance (it wasn’t too good this morning for some unbeknown reason). And wobbled off to the kitchenette, almost on auto-pilot. I got the kettle on and did the health checks. The BP SYS as a little high again. Sorted the small tablets out and identified the Furesomide and removed it (At least I hope I got it right). Took the medications and was drinking the mug of Glengettie tea and wondering if it was worth trying to take an early morning photo if the dark, dank view outside.
Then, with surprising suddenness, I had to hobble-hastily to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). A bit of a blaster-mode this wee-wee was! And a long one too! There was none of the PMPD (Post-Micturition Pre-Dribble). Still, a plentiful supply of embarrassing PMAD (Post-Micturition After-Dribbling), so much of it, I nearly started counting the cracks on the ceiling, while I whistled! Unfortunately, it caught me out, a few drops of late-dibbling took place. In-Depth-Ignominy-Mode-Engaged!
Then, the innards gave me a poke, which told me I needed to get to the Porcelain Throne, which I did, without any delay. The most painful for weeks affair! But it was not a long job, no bleeding, and aroma didn’t make me feel hazy this time. Hahaha!
The toes and feet for worse than yesterday morning, of course, the nails were longer. And the fungal nail infection on the right foot was more evident. More painful too!
I silently prayed that the St Anns podiatrist will see to me on Monday and not refuse to do-me, because of my ailments (Issues, they call them), like they did, last August! I’m not confident about this in the least.
I took the opportunity to change the PP’s. Knowing that I will need to replace them again when I do the ablutions, I put on one of the smaller ones I had to hand, for the time being. I hope I don’t get any Diabetes Insipidus leaks, or Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeds in between!
The brain was working again, as well as it ever will methinks, and a determination to get the updating done rose forth! Three wee-wees (each of the LPT (Long-Persistent-Type), two cups of Thompsons Punjana tea, and hours later, I finished the updating. Phew!
It was looking a little bleak out there. But no rain yet awhile.
I posted the Friday blog to WordPress, Emailed the links, and went on Facebooking catch-up, and that took me over two hours! Then onto the WordPress Reader section. Pinteresting. Time to get the ablutions done, back in a while.
I’m back!
The ablution session was sorrowfully a painful one, but entertaining! Hehe!
The teeth cleaning went well, no bleeding, Toothache Thomas was only mildly bothersome!
Putting the tube and brush back on the side-trolley. The exact moment my right hand steadied the trolley for me to reach over to return the stuff to the tray with my good left hand, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley gave me a good rattling, and the trolley wet over! Isn’t it amazing how much stuff you can squeeze into and onto a bathroom tray? It took me yonks to retrieve it all! Cragnangles!
The shaving consisted of far too many dropsies. Razors repeatedly, after-shave (used as a bleeding-stopper) and the foam can twice.
And on another occasion, I was shaking the can of foam, and off it flew via the North wall, back down, off of the sink and onto the sock-glide, hit the shower tiles, landed and rolled gently back to my feet and stopped, like a trained little dog! This was the entertaining part. I had to smile at it! Haha!
As I got into the shower, I tripped on the mat I had only myself to blame, I’d not left it in the usual position I do when showering. Pillock!
The showering itself was almost perfect! No dizzies, no banging into the grab-bars, no dropping the showerhead, and the curtains didn’t get stuck on closing them! T’was good! I felt good at the time!
Furthermore, no toe-stubbings, throughout the whole showering operation!
Drying off my baby rhinoceros jelly-like flabby-bellied body was incident and escapade-free!
I’ll not go into detail on this one, to embarrassing; I had severe bother when I used Little Inchies fungal lesion cream, on Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Suffice to say, Blubber-Argh! Grigglecocks! I have now moved the Phimosis Plato, and Paraphimosis Patrick’s clobetasone butyrate corticosteroid cream out of the way! I must remember where to, so I’ll mention where it was placed here – Inchcock: It’s on the bottom tray on wetroom trolley! Try not to forget, mush!
The old legs didn’t look too bad.
The dreaded ‘Hum’ was getting so loud again, as I started on doing this blog. I persistently persisted, and got as far as here, and had to go on CorelDraw again to get some graphics done in advance.
Oh, no, I’d better do the template first. I must get caught up for Monday, which I anticipate being a busy day, full of frustrations at the Health Centre, and no time to get much computerisationing done! Done it, back to CorelDrawing!
By Jimminy, the rain cometh down now!
I had some tap-tapping and knock-knocking noises from above to keep me company.
The familiar post meridian weariness and drainage of enthusiasm, frolicsomeness, and will-to-bother came over me, and I decided to get a meal made up then get in the recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.
Well, the nosh was a super-tasty one! Beef pasty, potatoes, egg mayonnaise, beetroot & carrot, tomatoes, and a mini-pork & pickle pie. An individual lemon mousse and apple pie to follow. I lip-smackingly enjoyed this effort!
Washed the pots, and settled into the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, uncomfortable, rickety recliner. I felt so tired, there was no need for me to put the TV on to send me off to kip. My tiredness alone will soon see me off in the land of Nod! I thought!
An hour of Thought-Storms, they were mostly of the guilt, self-hatred, and shame mode. Then I moved on to worrying about Monday’s trip out to the podiatrist at St Ann’s Health Centre. I put the TV on, for sleep was not attainable.
I was getting nowhere with my designs for sleep, and I decided to remove my magnificently honed and toned, super-fit, woman-desired, muscular body from the none-working recliner, and replenish the spring water bottle.
I stubbed my toes en route to the kitchen! I whimpered a bit, and returned to the recliner immediately, took a pain killer, and tried to get some pain gel on the toes.
This proved to a farcical effort, I’ll tell you why; I got some gel on a paper towel, grabbed it with the picker-upperer, and tried to apply it to the two toes affected. This didn’t go well! Thanks to Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s most untimely attack, I gelled part of the foot, shin, carpet, hands, and the recliner, I’m not sure if any gel actually got onto the stubbed toes! Cragknackles!
I didn’t bother with getting any of the spring water! But sleep now seemed an impossibility. So I put the TV back on (desperate now!) in the hopes that the commercials would send me off.
Which they did in the end, but I had to a few more hours.
03:50hrs: Woke up, wee-wee was required. I found the three nail-clippers I opened last night, in various places on my body? The little finger on my left hand had been bleeding but had now congealed near the nail. Erm?
By the time I’d got out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner and got my balance, the Porcelain Throne was also needed. With painful, partially crippling uncut toenails stinging, I hobbled to the wet room, with all alacrity.
Cor-Blimus!, that a quickie it was! Messy, pongy, and painful too! Humph! Washed and cleaned up, and to the computer, to look up the day’s doings on the calendar, because the vagueness of mind and inability to concentrate had caused a blank-spell. I’ve got the Morrison’s order 08:30>09:30hrs, the Warfarin blood test-nurse (anytime between 09:00>16:00hrs). The recyclable bags to take down that might need two trips. I must get help calling the Doctors and foot clinic, hoping to get an appointment.
Off to get the Health Checks and medications taken. By the time I’d limped to the hallway, my indistinctive, vagueness, ambivalent, fuzziness of mind, decided I’d get the stand-up ablutions done first? So I did!
And a right mess I made of them! The legs and feet were looking okay, though. If only the pain would go away (Hehehe!), I realised later that I had not cleaned my teeth! The shaving did not produce a single cut or nick! I knocked the waste bin over!
Stubbed my toe against the sink support! (Luckily, it was the right foot, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters was playing up, so the pain was minimal! No doubt when the nerve-ends come back online, they’ll let the brain know. That’ll be fun!). Then, I sprayed myself with air freshener, and not the deodorant! All in all, I made a right mess of it, but somehow, I just didn’t seem concerned at that time? (Fuzzy-Mind Fred?)
I got dressed and off to the kitchenette to make a brew, take the medications, and do the Health Checks. The view from the thick-framed, light, and view-blocking new windows was terrific.
As I was taking this photograph of the scene, my vagueness seemed to dissipate a tad. But this regaining a little control of the grey-cells brought with it all the worries, concerns, fears, and failures to mind! The Thought-Storms attacked.
As I turned away from the window, I knocked the electric can-opener off of the ledge. It fell, via the server tray, and wall, right onto my poor foot and big toe! However, there was a bit of genuine good-luck involved here! The flex only allowed it as far as to hit the toe once, it had reached the limit the flex allowed and was pulled away! Thus, the pain was far less than had the machine not been plugged in! Well, well, Double-Smug-Mode almost adopted! But I realised it would not be long until another Whoopsie or Accifauxpas would befall me. My EQ told me I was due for a harassing day! I think I might have a black-toenail developing now? Ah-well, it could have been far worse!
I got the Jenny-supplied little picker-upperer and retrieved the machine from where it hung near the floor. Then I had a search and found the blade section that had gone in a different direction as it flew off of the main body. Argh! The opener no longer works! Granglesbognessbugger!
At last, I got around to taking the medications, and then did the Health Checks, starting with the BP, sphygmomanometerisationing. The SYS was still a bit high. The stick-thermometer was used, it showed as just ‘Low’.
Then, with the morning’s vagueness, instead of updating the Sunday blog, I started this one off, before I forgot the mayhem that had taken place last night.
Then, I moved on to updating the Sunday post. Got it finished and posted off the Email links, and did the Facebooking. The intercom rang out, it was the Morrison delivery arriving. I got the bags from the doorway into the kitchen. And what a lot of sorting-out I had to do, too!
I started with the fresh foods, and they all looked good and clean to me! The only minor problem with these was substituted milk. They’d sent a bottle twice as large as the one I wanted. So some throwing away to come, methinks.
The cupboard stuff was sorted and stored away. The only bleach available was a thin 2litre one, but it” have to do. And the washing up liquids I’d ordered arrived, also an apple and orange, scented one? Mmm?
Getting all the fresh stuff in the fridge was a challenge, Hahaha!
Cupboarded the other stuff, and I had to put a few items in the junk room. Including four baked bean cans that I didn’t realise I’d ordered. I recall thinking of getting them at a special offer price, I didn’t reckon that I had.
But, that’s me all over. Confused easily, and doolally prone!
I was beginning to get myself worked up a bit. (Little did I know then, just how uptight, irritable and meg-frustrated I was going to get today!) And rather busy, as well! But the view outside helped calm me down a bit, temporarily.
They had sent the two plain flour bags, and I’d ordered an extra carton of red grapes as well, they were on offer price if I bought two, so I did. As a thank you for Jenny for her care and help. I called Jenny and told her I was on my way down with the flour. We had a little natter at the same time, I appreciate that. Getting down, was a problem with there only being one lift available for the residents, and the rule (Rightly so!) that only one goes in an elevator at a time. The not allowed cage kept coming to me at first, so I had to nip in and sent the lift to a lower floor, and hope that the resident’s lift had no one in it when it came. Cunning, I am! Haha! I got to Jenny’s and Franks flat, and I left the bag near the door. The lady had left £2 in payment for the flour in an envelope on her door for me. Bless her!
I got the black bags for the chute, and the big-bag of recyclables to go down to the caretaker’s area bin. I forgot to take the camera with me, though. It was going down in the elevator, that I realised that the rear-end furunculosis, wasn’t giving me any bother. That was good!
I went out to the recycle bin, but couldn’t see any caretaker’s to help me at the time, so I had to leave the bag near the skip.
Coming back in, and I saw Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana. I took the chance to have a word (More a pathetic moan and plea for help, really, Haha!) with her, about my problem with the toenails. She kindly said she would call the Sherwood podiatrist te when I might get in to see her, then she’ll call the private costly foot-lady who operates one day a week from Winwood Court, to see if she can do me. And would ring me back with what she finds out for me. Fair enough, I couldn’t ask for more! Well, I could, but that would be naughty! Har-har!
Hello, I thought, things looking up? I should have known better!
I got back up to the flat and started to get fresh pod peas podded. They were far better quality than those I bought two weeks ago, Looking forward to these tonight.
In the middle of doing them, the delightful Vampire Blood Nurse, Hristina arrived. She was in a hurry again, bless her. But did natter to me while the gal took my blood. I mentioned the foot lady and what she charges for nail cutting, and the nurse said “I’m in the wrong business, I ought to change to chiropody!” with a broad, beautiful smile on her pulchritudinous face. ♥
I was about to finish off the peas, add some demerara sugar to them in the pan, and get some potatoes in another saucepan when Sister Jane rang me. So lovely to hear her voice. But the news was not all good. She and Pete had had more bother from their neighbour! I listened for a while, wishing I could help. Then the light on the landline phone we were on, flashed. I thought it might be Warden and desktop dancer Deana with news of the foot clinic. Jane rang off, and the light stopped blinking! Humph!
At long last, I got onto doing this blog updating. What a messy, niggly, frustrating busy day!
I went onto the WordPress Reader.
The door-chimes rang out with the Dusty Springfield tune, “I only want to be with you”. I hobble to the door, to find the postman delivering the Kodak camera! I thought today couldn’t get any worse, I was so wrong!
I managed to get the battery in the camera, but it is so late, I was reluctant to get all involved in trying to try and learn about the Kodak at this moment. But, boys will be boys!
The electric plug was an American a round two-pin one, for the charger. I got myself in a right pickle, trying to find out if and how to set things up! I gave up in the end. I’m going to have to go begging for help on this one. Now I really was getting irritable, peed-off, and so tired. Long past my head-down time and I haven’t even got the meal started!
The moment I again thought, ‘Can it get any worse’, the landline rang! It was Deana with bad news on the Podiatrist front problem.
As I understood Deana:
The private chiropodist will not do anything with my feet or toes, until I have seen the doctor, and got the all-clear with my other ailments, for her to go ahead! Blanglebotherations!
My usual podiatrist at the Elmswood Medical Centre in Sherwood has a waiting list so long, she could not get me an appointment, until October 28th! Argh!
However, if I could get to the St Anns clinic, they could get me in, for next Monday, on the 27th of July! But, the only time available is for 09:10hrs! Claptickleisations!
I asked Deana to please arrange for that appointment for me.
Of course, I will not be able to use my bus pass, and the buses don’t call before 0930 at the flats, anyway! So, it will be a taxi for me then.
That is if Deana can get me the appointment!
She said she will ring back later and let know, Bless her!
And I will have to bother Jenny to ring for a cab for me! That is if I can get the appointment!
Why does nothing ever seem to go right, or easy for me? Mind you, I ought to be used to really! Clapstickleisations!
I’ll try to get some din-dins made up then. Or, top missen! No, better not, I’ll only get it wrong and be in trouble! Spit!
A struggle and stress-worthy job getting the meal ready while feeling so tired, irritable and worn-out. The dropsies were active. But I pressed on and got it served up.
It turned out to be a delightful indulgence. The garden peas were lovely, the acetous beetroot and carrots were tasty, the boiled in soy flavoured water potatoes, then dotted with Hoisin sauce, really were most excellent. The ready-cooked beef was as good as I’ve ever tasted. A deserved flavour rating of 8.5/10 for this effort! Weary as I felt, I still savoured each forkful!
Got the pots washed, took the evening medications and ointments, gels and lotions applied to those areas of my fine, magnificent, sculpted, toned, fit, young muscular body, in need of treatment. (Cough!)
I got down in the £300, c1968, second-hand, pukingly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, not-working, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner, and was off onto the land of Nod, within minutes! Fantastic! Sweet Morpheus!
I was woken by the sound of the door Chimes, both being pressed.
Unbelievably, it was Josie waking me up again! I could not be annoyed though, the gal had been out shopping, and bought me some peaches and strawberries. Bless her! I had to explain that I am allergic to fresh strawberries, and do not like peaches. I felt bad telling her, and she looked a little downhearted. I apologised, she wanted to know what she could get me, in return for the Sunday meals. Again, I said, all I need is for you to enjoy the meals, that’s enough for me, Josie! She persisted in knowing what she can get for me, though. Apples I said, I like apples! I’m sure she feels the need to give me something back. I returned to the recliner, feeling a bit guilty.
But of course, by then, Sweet Morpheus was not interested in allowing me to get back to sleep, and the Thought-Storming started! Grobbleknangles!
02:00hrs: After many false wake-ups, I had to make this one real, cause I needed a wee-wee, again! I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, dilapidated, not working, uncomfortable, Haemorrhoid-damaging, rickety recliner, to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). It had been well-used overnight, so many times I thought I must have worn the carpet down! Hehe!
However, the content level barely covered the bottom of the bucket. Each sprinkling session during the night got smaller, or less than the previous one. This effort lasted for about a painful four seconds! I reckon I’ve got another urine infection. The colour was white and cloudy. Hey-ho!
But at least it got me up, and when I stubbed my toe on the edge of the hearth, this ensured I was fully awake, and the brain started to activate. Not logically, but it was nice to pretend.
I took the bucket for cleaning and sanitising, and I found I needed the Porcelain Throne while I was in the wet room.
Well, agony hardly covers how painful this was! I needed to exert a lot of pressure to get things moving… But it was Rock-solid! Half in, half out, the motion stalled! The pain did remain, for ages, a quick bash at the crossword until I got it going again! The sight of all the blood shook me for a second or two. I decided not to photograph the view!
A good cleansing session and some Germoloid cream applied to the rear-end.
Despite the agony of the evacuations, I still found time to cringe at the pain from the uncut toenails and feet.
To the kitchenette. I took the morning medications first, then got the kettle on, and did the Health Checks. Which came out much better today. The earhole temperature was 62.2°c.
Then I tried to take a scan photo of the roadway below, but the shaking made every effort fail. Blanglebotherations!
So I tried taking two shots, and later manipulated them as best I could together, (Not very good!) and grouped them, converted to Bitmap, and trimmed them down. I wonder if I’ll ever be capable of taking a scan-shot again? Probably not. Humph!
No red vehicles in view for Billum?
I launched myself into updating the Sunday blog. It took me a while as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were as usual, on and off. Silver Lining Results: Saccades Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and Shaking Shaun was all in a good mood!
I got it done, sent off the Email link, then I went on the WordPress Reader section. Commenting, then made up the template for and started this post going.
I took a break and went to make another mug of tea, fancying the Extra-Strong Assam this time.
I was getting trembling sensations from the right ankle and top of the leg? I took a picture of the pins, but they looked the same as they did yesterday. Well, no, that’s not right. The upper legs were retaining fluid, and they were not like this earlier?
Of course, the uncut toenails and soles of the feet, they hurt when I just look at them! Hahaha!
It suddenly got lighter or rather, brighter outside. Can it be the sun trying to get through this early in the day? No sooner had I took this picture than things went all dark again.
Then, of course, it had to happen! Hobbling back to the computer room, and I had a cracking toe-stubbing, again on the electric fire hearth! I believe I did quietly pass a few naughty words and may have questioned the parentage of my bad-luck! Sorry!
I went on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking. Then got some black bags made up, to to the waste chute, then took the big blue bag of recyclables down, out and around to the caretakers’ room. The only person I met, going and returning to the flat, was a nurse waiting for the lift. It was a smidge dark again outside, a few spots of drizzle occasionally, and the wind was getting higher.
Got in the flat, and had a check around to make sure things were safe for me to hibernate in the wet room, taps, heater, lights etc. not left on or open, and get the ablutions sorted out.
Showering; Dizzy Dennis visit, and dropped the carbolic soap (2), flannel, and back brush.
Drying off; Knocked a lot of stuff off of the floor cabinet, but had the Jenny supplied picker-upperer at hand to make life easier.
Medicationalisationing; Applying the Cortisone cream, a little over-enthusiastically, and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding.
Kept my balance dressing and didn’t walk into anything on the way out!
Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I (sedulously and safely) made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. While doing so, I thought I could hear a rattling noise from somewhere, so I went to investigate around the flat. Turns out, it the wind blowing the glass panes about on the balcony. It was still dark, but no proper rain yet.
I espied some red coloured cars at the dead-end if Chestnut Walk. The end window, although I was brave enough to try and use the metal spring clips, that traps and bruises fingers, perfect idea for old folks balcony windows. Indeed, this very opener has had two Nottingham City Homes workers already! But I couldn’t get it to open. Too tight! But no bother for an agile, fit, young man like wot I am! I hung out of a front window and lurched my body to the right, and with the camera strapped to my hand. And managed to take this photo on the right, of the vehicles!
Coming back in the flat, I was about to allow myself another moment of deserved Smugness… Then stubbed the same flipping toe on the raised balcony step! Grumblecronkackers! Globblegripes! Gangleboggleisations! Granglesknackersbuggerit!
Oh, dearie me, all that care taken not to trap my fingers in the lethal metal spring-clip, that needs to be pushed and pulled at the same time to operate it, then I go and stub the toes again! I was so angry with myself.
I decided to make another mug of tea, Extra-Strong-Assam I think this time, take another pain-killer, a 60g Codeine. Because things are getting painful now! Anne Gyna, Toothache Thomas, Little Inchies fungal lesion, Haemorrhoid Harold and now the stubbed toes, sore pads of the feet, and the so uncomfortable uncut toenails have made an alliance between themselves methinks: To ‘Give Inchcock Excruciating, Agony, and wretched-purgatory’. They’ll probably be planning my next serious Whoopsiedangleplop or Accfauxpas at this moment. Hahaha! Well, it feels like it! I dread to think what Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus have up their sleeve for me! Gehenna, here I come!
I got this meal prepped, and settled to eat it—a Flavour Rating of 5.5/10.
Uncle Dizzy Dennis came on after I’d eaten it, I put the tray on the other seat and blissfully, soon dropped off to into a much-needed sleep.
Minutes later, the door chimes rang out, both of them. I grumpily rose up and went to the door. It was Josie waking me yet again! Bless her, she felt she had to keep giving me stuff in return for the Sunday meals. And she gave me some blackcurrant cakes. Dia Bete’s cannot be happy about this. I thanked her, but was wrangled at being woken up again! Mustn’t blame her, she can’t help forgetting things, any more than I can’t get any sleep!
Dizzy Dennis came on again as I resettled. Sleep, my disturbed Sweet Morpheous, did not want to return. I got more uptight, and when I did eventually drop off, nightmares flourished and woke me up with a jolt! I fought to get back to sleep.
Then the landline rang and flashed! Out of the chair, banged my knee on the Ottoman, got to answer the phone. It was the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she’d arrive between 08:00 > 09:00hrs in the morning. Thank her! Tried to make a note in my head for tomorrow and the Morrison Delivery being so late, and I must not forget it is coming!
Then I gave up completely on getting any proper sleep, and got a brew made, and onto the computer. Worra-lot-of-bovver!
