I’d just put this graphic on, and the Vampire Angel arrived! Tsk!
Wednesday 1st April 2020
Greek: Τετάρτη 1 Απριλίου 2020
02:10ish hrs: I woke-up, passed wind from the rear-end. Then struggled to get out of the chair. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. While he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working – but not today, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away rusty recliner.
I clambered free of the seat, with a sense of urgency, and waggled, with bottom-cheeks clenched as best I could, to the wet room, with the middle right toe still aching from last nights stubbing! But it was a cunning false alarm! I sensed there was product in there, but it wasn’t having any effect on my efforts at encouraging any movement. So, I had a wash and wiped the contact points, and made for the kitchen. Took the medications, made a brew, and back to the computer room.
Where I noticed I had not cleaned up the area around where I knocked stuff over last night in my rushes to get to answer the phone. So a little clean up was performed, not a proper one, cause it was far too early to use the noisy hoover yet, and being as I didn’t have a quiet one, I didn’t. Hehe!
I kept on getting irritation on the arm when I caught it against anything, so had decker at it. A damned pretty artistic bruise had developed. (Clopidogrel or and Accifauxpas?) I thought that this should go with the leg photographs to the Tate gallery!
I got straight on with the WordPress updating on Tuesday’s post. I went to make another brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and when I put the teabag into the wast liner, I got a tiny little cut near the right-hand little fingernail. Which was no bother at all, cause I didn’t feel it? Thus, I knew that Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerves were starting to go on strike, so I took care in which hand to use for which tasks I needed to do – Clever that! Must experience be learnt by?
I had a nosey in the black bag to see what it was I’d nicked myself on, and found it was the lid of the can of Polish meat I’d had and enjoyed so much last teatime. And, oh, dear, I saw the sell-by date on it: The 15th of December – 2016! I did have a look yesterday I think, but must have seen the 15.12, and assumed it was this year? Feel a right Klutz, now! I’m hoping my innards will not be affected? Oh, dear, oh, dear! The meat tasted lovely as well!
Back to the updating. It got harder work, as Nicodemus’s nerve ends kept going AWOL, and so many errors were made. But I got it finished around 05:45hrs.
Then put a few piccies on Pinterest, sent out the Emails, and later on the TFZer Facebooking. It was a struggle, though. I’m not sure if it was Virgin Meda or FAcebook at fault. But things were very variably stuttery and slow. I added some photographs to my albums. It took me as long as it did to update the blog in the first place!
As I was finishing the job, another urgent summing to the Porcelain Throne arrived, in the form of borborygmic gurgling. Experience told me not to ignore it, and off I went to the wet room. “Argh!”, it was a painful, needing encouragement from me, evacuation. Messy, some indeterministic bleeding too. But at least not from Little Inchies fungal lesion. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not happy, and the stinging began! So, the cleaning up and medicationalisticalisationing was carried out.
I carried with this post up to here. Then went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and while the kettle was boiling, I took some shot of the morning view, three from the balcony, and the last one from the unwanted, wet-letting-in, disliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new kitchen window, with the Canon camera. I might be the lighting available, but I was pretty pleased with the resulting photos.
It looks so quaint – but I assure you, it ain’t!
All the parked cars of the self-isolators, enforced isolators (like wot I am!), sent home workers etc. was a sad reminder of what we’re all going through. And not a single person spotted in any of the snaps, as far I could see, anyway.
I phoned Sister Jane and her Pete. But, I got a message telling me the call has been put on hold?II tried to ring her back. Got another message saying an ‘active call,’ is preventing the connection. Got her next try, and ‘Sod’s Law’, or ‘Gerry’s luck’, while she was talking and telling me off, the dreaded wet and warm feeling from down below appeared – I asked her to wait for a second, had a look and found the white PP’s were mostly red – the blood was flowing from Little Inchies fungal lesion! I explained and shot off to the wet room.
More toilet roll was used in cleaning things up. Washed the area, and a few Argh’s and Ouches were muttered as I was medicating things. Humph!
Made the brew, and got on CorelDraw to do some graphics for another template.
The usual weariness and fatigue dawned early in the day again.
Got the oven on and nosh started. A chance to use up some dated items from the freezer. The fish fingers in breadcrumbs, substituted for battered ones by Iceland. Not very tasty, I think they may have been made with pond sticklebacks? The well-out-of-date Twiglets, the donated by a resident for me tomatoes were grand. The Halloumi sticks passable, and the beetroot, perfect! Overall, a Taste-Rating of 5/10.
I went to do the washing up, and the landline lit and rang. It was my Angel Jenny, to tell me that the food she had added to her Sainsbury order was coming via Frank to be delivered to me. So kind of her to help me like this.
Especially as I can’t pay her back until I can work out a way of getting some cash from the ATM or somehow.
Minutes later, the doorbell chimed. I got to open it, and two carrier bags had been left outside by Frank. I was picking them up, and Frank’s voice said something to me, I couldn’t tell what he was saying, but thanked him.
As expected, Sainsbury’s were out of stock of some things, some substituted. The caramelised biscuits with Caramel wafers, but at least I can hand them back for Jenny to use, or share later with the Wednesday gang when, if, it ever gets back online. No bread or cobs substituted. As to be expected, in the current climate.
It is lovely that Jenny is helping, but I will not bother her again, until I can find a way to pay what I owe her, including the £25+ for this order. Bless her kind cotton socks. She helps so many people. I’ll manage somehow.
I put the things away, and spotted another tin in the tea cupboard! Of Pork Knuckle, Great! And, it’s still in date, only just, but still. Hehe!
I’ll have a beef cook-in-the-bag in onion gravy tomorrow. Now I have some leeks and parsnips to add to it, thanks to Jenny & Frank.
I got settled down, in hopes of getting some sleep, but the mind was buzzing with problems and not letting me relax. Eventually, much later, I did nod-off… And the landline rang and flashed! It was a lady asking for Angela and Frank. I explained this was the wrong number, but I did not know the telephone digits of Angela and Frank, who live on the top floor. The poor lady sounded so disappointed.
Back down on the £300 second-hand, not-working, uncomfortable rickety recliner, in search of sweet morpheous, which was in no hurry to dawn on me. The Thought-Storms started and stayed with me a while. After the half-asleep prognosticating, I felt so confused, low, incapable, and pathetically self-hating.
I did get off into the land of nod – but had the oddest of dreams, and it was so lucid afterwards, I wrote down bits I could recall on the pad. I’d died if osteofluorosis, and they would not let me into heavens gates. St Peter (In the dream, Housing Patch Manager, Angela Gould), refused to let me in until I had got a disclaimer from Glengettie… I was returned to life and earth to fetch one, and everyone was dead. Bloody Coronavirus, I cursed! And, walked (I was the same age, but all my ailments had gone?), around the shops to get food, but everything had gone mouldy, and not a tin opener to be found anywhere… Suddenly, I was in New York, the same scenario, all dead… As I walked between the abandoned dead body filled vehicles, a rhinoceros came charging at me, stopped short, and licked my face? This beast knocked me down a drain… After that, it all goes vague.
Might I be losing it?
02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, and realised that just about everything attached to my wobbly-overweight stomach, was shaking to varying degrees. Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley was so bad, she was hitting my elbow on the recliner arm! Shaking Shaun had taken a fancy to the head and neck this morning. Worst perhaps, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failures were making it so difficult to sense anything hard, and getting up to respond to the urgent call to the Porcelain Throne was not easy! (The bonus, was, that there was no Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing from the right leg) 
After much faffling-about, I got on my feet, caught my balance, grabbed at the four-pronged walking stick, dropped it, bent down to pick it up and ‘Klunk’ down on my knees I went! Bearing in mind, the imperativeness of my getting to the Throne in time was increasing! Humph! I actually appreciated having the shakes from Nicodemus at the time, because there was hardly any pain at all when Arthur Itis’s patelas hit the floor! That usually come later, when the transmitter nerves start working again. Unnerving getting pains and you can’t see or remember why! 
The veins in the pins had started to protrude again. The varicose were not too bad, mind. The spider and 
While in there, I did the teggies and had a shave. And very pleased with how it went, considering that Shirley didn’t ever stop shaking, although she kept altering the rate of power. And I only had two tiny cuts after the session! Smug Mode Adopted! 
To the kitchen, and put some bits in a carrier, to give to Jenny when she comes. As a thank you for helping me out again. 
I dug out some chips from the bottom of the freezer. Got a pate and a few tomatoes left to have with them. 
The landline flashed, it was the Chemist, telling me the prescriptions would be at the door in a few minutes. I waited five or six minutes, not wanting to make social-contact with the lady, and carefully opened the door, making sure she had gone first and collected the pack from where she had left it for me. 
01:45hrs: I stirred into an ersatz version of life; feeling otiose, vague, and in need of a non-alcoholic potation. As I removed my horrendously ever-growing stomach with thin arms and legs attached to it, from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, the innards gurgled, I started coughing, and wind passed involuntarily from the rear end! 
I got the kettle on, took the medications, again dropping the Omeprazole capsule, and made a brew of Glengettie. Into the computer desk, and had a look at the two-page, side-effects of the Omeprazole’s leaflet. But there was so much of it, I gave up. 
I tried for the ninth time in 24hrs, to get a Morrison Grocery order done. Hehehe! What a hopeful, old, gullible, senile idiot, I am! 
I did a try at getting some food from Ocado. Another negative, no slots available!
The cobs will be perfect with my beans later! Onions and carrots, I’ve got some parsnips in reasonable nick, in the fridge. Tomorrow’s meal sorted thanks to the donator. That frees me from the worry of having to go out today! Bless whoever it was! Canned mushy peas, baked beans, sardines. A yoghourt that unfortunately has the lethal to me cranberries in it. Milk, lemonade, tomato puree, and some white bread. So kind of them! Oh, and a can of orange pieces, a perfect after for me! 
The landline flashed and sounded, I woke and fumbled my way to the phone. It was Jenny, helping me out again! She had miraculously got through to Iceland to give an order. And, as is her natural, considerate, obliging characteristics, she asked if I would like anything adding to the order for Saturday. If I email her back with anything, she will add it to her order. Not many folks would think of that, but Jenny is special. 
My body just wanted to sleep, but I wanted to get back to Jenny and thank her and give a little list of items she had kindly asked for me to add to her Iceland delivery. Her delivery is for late on Friday, and Jen’ politely said she would not wake-me then, and bring it to me until Saturday morning. The lady is so thoughtful! So, a treat of braised beef in onion gravy cook-in-the-bag again for me this weekend after all! Bless yers, Jenny! 
The hickory seasoned beans with the last of the tomatoes, and triple-fried chips, and the Jenny-supplied bread, were smashing! 
As slowly as I was hobbling, and as carefully as I could, I still managed to give myself a toe-stubbing on the corner of the kitchen door! I held onto the door frame for extra support, closed my eye, and withheld the urge to cry out loud and swear! A few moments later, after a Thought Storm that was partly incomprehensible, but included niggling, depressive thoughts about my bad luck and stupidity, I got the medications from the drawer and imbibed them with a drink of spring water.
01:25hrs: I woke up, feeling strangely contented? (If a dream caused this, I want another one like it, Hahaha!) A wee-wee was soon needed, the grey bucket had not been used all night, another conundrum! Hmm? Off to the wet room. 
insouciance on my behalf. I was concentrating well, I thought, but the brain had different ideas. I plugged away, and finally got it finished at last (Three-and-a-half hours). 
No time to send it off the blog yet, the Morrison delivery arrived. I even heard
for me and then shot off, bless him. 
But it proved a trickle-less effort? Humph! 
I took a shot of the murky looking sky from the unpopular, dirty, light & view-blocking, photographer-hating, thick-framed, kitchen window.
I made an order for Iceland. Some of the braised beef in onion gravy (2), I have plans to add some home-made vegetables to them and see what they turn out like. Chicken Satays, Mini ice-cream bars, mushrooms, onions, leeks, cooking butter. And on offer-price, Aberdeen meat joint, orange squash, Hob cleaner, a few different of kitchen-rolls, and some toilet rolls. There was only one type of bog-rolls in stock! Comfort (16-pack), and only one of them was allowed to could be ordered. The panic stock-piling I suppose. The chances are, they might not be any available at all come the delivery time? Oh, dear, dear, dearie me!
Sister Jane phoned me, she’s sent me a bit of the Nottingham Post paper on the snail-post, with details about diabetes for me to read. Not arrived yet.
came to light and life, it was the Amazon delivery gentleman. 
– 
Wearily I got the meal served up, but not without some minor Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops in doing so. A cut finger, a burnt wrist, various dropsies, including as I recall, cutlery, washing up bottle, saucepan lid and the salt pot. 
The meal was a worthy 8.2/10 for taste-rating. This was mainly due to the absolutely delightful sweet potato fritters! 
01:58hrs: I woke several times during the night, but soon nodded off again. This time, I removed my cumbersomely over-stomached body from the £300, second-hand recliner almost straight away. I caught my balance and got the stick, and as I made my way to the kitchen, I stopped part-way… Where were my ailments? Was I still dreaming? Of the wide selection of issues available to me, only Saccades Sandra and Back-Pain-Brenda was of any bother? Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis and the others seem to have abandoned me! Had I snuffed it during the night? I was confused, but oh, so pleased, even if it was only going to be a temporary situation, I took a weak wee-wee in the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and started to sing to myself as I got in the kitchen! 
As I got the kettle on, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters started failed and continuously returned and did so for ages. This meant the following medication sorting (From the mixed-up tablet’s in the falling-apart PilBox. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA), the taking and transportation into the computer, were ridden with annoyances, spilt tea, dropped tablets etc., but still no hassle from even Arthur Itis! So things medically speaking were in fine form! Yeehaa! The state of my mentality had yet to be tested and assessed. Haha!
Responded to WordPress comments (2), t
On to graphicalisationing now for a while, before getting the wash & brush-up done. 
I alighted the bus last as usual to avoid the stampede for the door, and stood a moment or two, to search for my shopping list. I knew I was only going to Tesco to get fresh fruit & veg, then the Bargain shop. But there were other items that I could not recall. No luck in finding it anywhere, searched every pocket and the trolley bag? 
I hobbled on a few yards and stopped for another search of the jacket and trolley bag. I was getting slightly annoyed with myself again. I was sure I’d put the list in my coat pocket earlier on. 
As I paid and left, then walked down and out onto Milton Street, I had a rest, as Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley had joined in with Back-Pain-Brenda, in giving me some stick. 
As I started moving again, with little bother from Arthur Itis I might add, I spotted this chap across the road? 
Now, in Depression Defcon Two, I was in a right morbid mood. I moved down the hill, to catch the next 40 bus (15 minutes to wait for it) – already dreading the walk from the 40 bus stop on Mapperley Rise back to the flats. I think I might have still been muttering insults at myself? Cholericalisations!
I walked through the Winwood Court entrance and along the link-passage to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby. Not a soul in sight. 
I fumbled about a bit getting into the flat with the trolley-guide. Much to the displeasure of Back-Pain-Brenda. She’s not been in a good mood with me at all, today. 
Mushrooms, sugar snap, leeks and peas in the saucepan. Parsnips, turnips, carrots and sweet potatoes in the oven, sprayed with olive oil and roasting. 
I added some of the seaweed nibbles to the plate of so many different vegetables and sausage. I must say it tasted marvellous! A Taste-Rating of 8.8/10! 
01:30hrs: I woke worryingly wanting a wee-wee. Wrestled myself free of the £300 second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not-working, recliner. Got the walking stick, no time to get my balance correctly this morning, so urgent was the needs of the bladder! I made for the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). And got a bit of a shock when the release began flowing; First, the colour was virtually transparent, these came like this for hours afterwards, likely on average about four an hour!
To the kitchen, via various obstacles in my path. Yes, I think I must have been doing some nocturnal-wanderings? DVD’s had fallen or been taken off of the case, and were scattered around on the floor. 
By gum, I feel better for that! 
Time to get the ablutionalisationing done. 
Out to the bus stop. Stopping at a bench, to make sure that I had got everything with me from the tills, and go through the till receipt, I pressed the option to get. 
As I checked the timing board sign, I got a feeling that told me I was in for another spell of ‘Out-of-it-ness’. I cannot explain how this sense works or comes from, but it might have been the EQ? 
Shaking -Shoulder-Shirley kicked off again as I got to the shelter. So I stood behind at the back of the bus stop, as there were a few folks in there waiting, and I didn’t want to disturb them with Shirley’s antics or feel and look like someone with St Vitus (
Things were put away in the fridge, the sweet potato chips in the freezer. And I set about doing the meal, the healthier meal (I hoped). 
Last week’s offer of a Top Valley venue that I explained last time was too far and time-consuming for me. Then told her of my mobility and health problems (All repeated as the previous week). 
00:05hrs: I stirred into ersatz life with a Thought-Storm. But I think the frontal and parietal lobes were at odds with each other, and one of them refused to get involved? Hehe! For it was all over in a minute or so? Then the noise from outside caught my wandering attention. Not, for once, the ‘Hum’, but the wind and rain hitting the windows. (Mind you, the horrible hum returned as soon as the rain stopped later!) Storm Jorge, I presume? 
As I was making my first essential, crucial, vital, imperative brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, I noticed the lack of stinging from the right legs Sock-Glide injuries. So, I whipped down the jammie-bottoms and took a look, then this photo of them. It’s amazing how things seem to 
clear up so quickly on the right side of the body lately. Great stuff! 
I had another determined deep time-consuming search for the collapsable walking stick, but no luck. I wonder if I gave it to someone? Did I break it? Anyroad, I decided to buy another one. Went on Amazon. I also ordered a long picker-upperer at the same time. Both to be delivered on Sunday. Hopefully, the same thing won’t happen to either again this time. I’ll try not to lose this collapsable walking-stick, keep it in the trolley-walker. And the picker-upper, I will try not to leave where the walking stick goes, then I won’t mistake it for a walking-stick, get a dizzy-on and break it falling over! (Life can be a challenge you know. [Cry of sarcastic, mirth!]) 
I eventually got around to computerisationing! It felt like I’d been up for hours already… hang-on, I had! Tsk! I started on the Friday blog updating. It took me a few hours with all the photos I’d made. But my persistency paid off, and it was finally finished and posted off!
A messy job, with lots of pots and pan cleaning afterwards. But, worth it, despite how weary and done-in I felt. The rice I’d flavoured with Hoisin and BBQ seasoning, added garden peas, the mushrooms (cooked with black bean sauce), and some black beans. Sausages from the freezer, a pot of lemon fool, and wallah! 
02:00hrs: I can’t say I woke up, cause I never-not really got any sleep after waking up last night realising I’d missed the dentist appointment again! Boy did I annoy myself with that Accifauxpas! I’ve spent hours cursing myself and feebly trying to thing up some miserable excuse to use. Cause last time I did it, I just told them the truth, which was, “I just got confused and forgot about it”. That (the truth) did not go down well with them at all! Oh, dear and Flungledamnations! 
I’m still agrynoyd with myself now! So much, so, I rose, intending to get on the email asap. To send a message of super-cringingly, craving for forgiveness and begging their understanding. But, first things first, I had to get out of the £300 second-hand recliner. Which turned out to be an almost painless, and an easy manoeuvre for me. Until it came to grabbing the walking stick. I foolishly lifted the four-pronger over the chair instead of going around to get at it. 
Naturally, Shaking-Shoulder Shirley twitched into life, and I hit my head as I dropped it from the maximum height it went to! I believe I might have muttered, ‘Oh dear!’ or something like that! 
However, the hobble to the kitchen used little effort with no pain or hassle, and I got the brew made. But suddenly there was no time for drinkies, the Porcelain Throne alarm rumbled! And a right odd session it was too!
I got there, I thought in plenty of time, but as I began to sit down, things activated of their accord. Talk about lucky, thankfully I didn’t wait before moving in the direction of the wet room as soon as the rumbling began. Else things could have been dodgy and messy! But the day was saved! No extra cleaning up, even the evacuated product came out quickly, and in almost black little tiny sugar cube shaped lumps. Yes, it surprised me as well! So, this is how good-luck feels? Smug-Mode-Engaged! I cleaned the pan then myself.
Back to the comments, although by now, I was getting tired. I’d been taking pictures over the morning from the kitchen window, for a sort of time scale display. Here they are on the right.
he nosh sorted and served. I was going to treat myself to some chips but managed to resist, and no bread either. This is all so foreign to me, no potatoes, chips or bread? The future is bleak! Haha! The overcooked in the oven parsnips were tasty! Flavour Rating: 7/10, so not bad at all.
Got the pots washed, and had the inspiration to wash the trousers, and let them drip dry on a new hangar over the sink. 