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. The Ottoman had had many items knocked off of it; Bottle of spring water, olive-oil bottle, a tube of Germolene cream and a suspicious empty Marmite Crisps bag. The airer was partly tipped over, leaning against the recliner back.
Had I also been on a Nocturnal-nibbling rampage? I know that the night before last, I didn’t have a meal at all, and yesterevening, with the TV problems and my allowing the food to go cold, I didn’t eat much, but surely I wouldn’t nibble crisps? Not in my new determined-to-lose-weight and some stomach-flab mode? As I got the picker-upper to retrieve the items, I feared what I might find in the kitchen. Tentatively, I hobbled into the kitchen and had a look around. All seemed the same as I left it? No signs of raided fridge or cupboards, crumbs or food preparationings. Phew!
I got the kettle on, took the medications and found that I had not taken last nights! Grrr! Idiot! So I took them and left the morning ones until later. Made a brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, and another wee-wee. (Let’s take it that I kept on with SSP wee-wees for the nest four, no six hours!) All this use of Little Inchie had caused me to fear that the Fungal Lesion might start bleeding, but no! Great!
I got the computer on, Hogwashniggles, harrumph and Globdogerisations! Instant hatred for Mr (Tosspot) Fries, and stabbing pains from Duodenal Donald!
I checked on Google to see if any problems, or rather, what the problems were!
The lying swine at Liberty-Global said on the site in reply to the many pissed-off Nottinghamian customers, My additions in deep red:
Then I went on Virgin’s web-site Service Problems site and got the above message. Please note, how can we idiot customers expect a half-decent service, from a company that employs people who cannot event spell Virgin correctly (First word of message = Virin!) Liberty-Global, who own it, are an incompetent, uncaring, pecuniary-mad, lying company.
By gum, I feel better for that!
I tried the resetting, then turned everything off the on again. Sender turned off, on, and rebooted again. Eventually, I got a connection of sorts, very unsteady. It still kept on going down repeatedly for hours, for periods of a few seconds to five-minutes, Eurgh!
This caused, what ought to have been at maximum, a couple of hours work to get the blog updated, to turn into a marathon of six-hours! Thank you, Mr Steven (I couldn’t give a toss – I get paid millions of dollars salary) Fries.
The internet got to stop going off-line. No, honestly! It was still slow, mind!
I put some pictures on Pinterest. Made a brew of Glenghettie, wee-wee’d, and went on the TFZer Facebooking. Then updating the post. Started this one going.
Time to get the ablutionalisationing done. Worra session it was! Can’t grasp it yet how it went. Dropsies, so few. One cut shaving. No shelve clearing, toe-stubbing or knocks. Even the sock-glide battle was a victory! And, as for the pins (legs), apart from the hairs suddenly going invisible, they looked like any ordinary person’s pins, they even had more colour this morning!
Got ready for going out to get the fresh vegetables from Sainsbury’s. Dropped off some no-longer-needed sugary-foods at the ILC’s office, only the one of the three in today, I found out later.
Coming out of the office, Dizzy Dennis dawned. Can’t remember a sausage until I was on the bus going to Arnold, with the crossword book in my hand. And two bus stops away from the store! Put away the book, alighted thanking the driver, and into the shop’s car park through to the entrance. The sunshine had actually got a little warmth in it!
I was fully with-it, well, my faculties were returning. No aches or pains apart from the usual Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley (A bit embarrassing and funny-looks-attracting from customers and staff members in the store, Humph!), Arthur Itis, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure, and Duodenal Donald. I was free of the attentions of Reflux Roger, Anne Gyna, Hernia Harry, Saccades Sandra, Stuttering Stephany, Flatulent Frank, Harold Haemorrhoids, and Kidney-Pain Kevin. I went the entire day, without a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, as well!
Things were going well as I entered the store. (Apart from there being no hand-baskets available) I went to the checkouts to get a shopping basket, but no problem really, I was so pleased that I could get about so much easier today, took my time though.
I struggled with the high shelves in the green-fruit department, getting the chestnut mushrooms. The shelves on the tinned and dry goods shelves are much worse, but I didn’t need any of them this time, I was on a fresh-food mission.
I got some vegetables. Tomatoes, Vittoria and black Ladecia ones. The chestnut mushrooms. Two tiny turnips. Some small parsnips for baking. Seafood sticks, Surimi Royal. A packet of Mushroom pate, Milk Roll loaf, and Turkey BBQ chunks. Down to the other end of the shop[, where I got a bottle of washing-up liquid, then to the freezers for a packet of sweet potato fries. Paid at the self-serve tills. Much to the frustration of the poor souls waiting behind me, as I was suffered a Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure moments, thus many things were dropped, and it was a struggle to get down and up to retrieve them. I did turn and apologise to the people.
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. All looked fine, and with so little fooder, I only needed the one shopping bag. So I transferred the heavy stuff to the basket top, with the lighter fodder in the carrier on the handlebars.
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 (Sydenham’s chorea).
Ten-minutes or so later, Nicodemuses neurotransmitters started working again. At the same time, I felt my concentration going adrift. As the others caught various buses and the shelter empties, I moved in to await the L9’s arrival.
I got settled in the corner on a side-saddle seat. The vagueness of the recollections of the journey now annoyed me. I’m sure I had a chinwag with someone on the bus en route. The next thing I remember correctly was getting off at Winwood Heights, with someone from the bus walking ahead of me at speed into the distance. From here on, things remained more or less rememberable. I did mention this problem to the Doctor, but can’t recall what she said about it?
I walked through to Winwood to Woodthorpe Court, and up to the apartment. Feeling oddly enough, in fine form.
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).
I got down in the £30 second-hand, rickety, non-working recliner with the tray of fodder.
Globderations! The mobile phone burst into life. I struggled out of the recliner, clouting my ankle on the computer chair leg on the way to get to the telephone that was in the corner charging-up. It was a recorded message that I could not hear a word of. When it ended, I tried to find a way of finding out who it came from, but could not. Was it the Ingeus people about the diabetes course? Had they got me an appointment?
02.40hrs: My only option now was to get dressed and go down to the ILC wardens office and ask for help with the phone and beg one of them to call back if it was Ingeus. I fumbled about getting the day clothes and shoes back on. So I dressed and got the walker-guide and limped down through the link passage to the Warden’s Office in Winwood Court. But it was locked up. (Why do these things always happen to me when there is no help available? Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!) Disappointed, with my spirits lowered, I moped my way back to the flat, with the odious and challenging task of my having to phone Ingeus to find out if it was them or not.
Back to the flat, and reluctantly knocked on Malcolm’s door to see if he knew how I could get the caller who made the recorded call I could not hear earlier. (I hate bothering people) Nope, so back in the flat. Sorry for intruding asking for help, Malcolm, I’ll not do it again!
I got the paperwork for the diabetes place and had to ring their Birmingham number. (At what cost I don’t know?) I got the auto-option choices that I could not decipher at all, so like last week, I pressed ‘One.’ Got some canned music for a bit, then a lady answered. I could only make out 50% of what she was saying. Again, like the bloke last week, she left me waiting while she looked up my details after confirming the name. DOB, address, etc. She returned, and I had to ask her to speak slower, please, but it didn’t really help. She gave the same spiel as the bloke lat time.
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). She departed again for a minute or two. Returned with an offer of at Rise Park Community Centre for the course. I explained again, this would involve four bus trips for me, just like Top Valley, but even further away. She said, if it is not suitable, all we can do is return your doctors referral. Agion, I was told to ring back in a week’s time! I think it best if I just don’t bother. I’ll use the internet (If it works) and find out for myself what needs doing and actions need taking. The unhelpful, non-information-digesting, Ingeus can take a hike! I’ll not ring them again; it’s cost me enough in phoning Birmingham four times already, getting negative responses, lack of sympathy and understanding, pachydermatous advice, and robots. Along with veiled threats when they cannot find a solution! (All we can do is return your Doctors Referral) Spitworthy!
The meal ended up, yet again in the bin! I tried to eat a bit of the dinner, but I was not in a mood for eating at all after the Ingeus farce! I had an unhealthy bag of Marmite crisps and dished what was left of the meal.
I’m well pee’d-off now! Once again, sleep took its time coming.
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? This tells me that the reason for the ‘Hum’, unknown to man and science, is related to the weather and or atmosphere? I considered emailing the Government to advise them of my thought? No, maybe not.
The old brain has kicked back into action again! I’d better take things slowly today. Not that there’s much choice, though. I’ve got tons to catch up with on the Computerisationing side. Mind you, Saturday’s are the best day for it, I don’t usually see anyone, so I decided to remove my heavily-ladened stomach and body from the rickety recliner and get on with things. A trace of willpower and determination crept in there – steady on, Inchy! Careful now!
I was caught out by my unsteadiness when I rose to grab the stick. But it didn’t last for long, thankfully. A took a couple of paces, and the innards started to rumble and grumble, so I diverted from the kitchen to the wet room.
It was a good job that I did! The evacuation once again started of its own accord! I must tell the Doctor about this on my next visit for the test results. However, the session was one of the easiest and least painful I’d had in weeks, no messiness either! I reckon today, that has already shown up some changes, differences and surprises, is going to be a day of them?
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!
Got the medications out, took them with spring water and then mashed the tea.
It seemed to be going okay this morning. Which, of course, made me get my Worry-Bonnet on. It’s not Kosher for things to go well for me, almost paranormal! I tried to enjoy things while they lasted, but an irritating uncomfortableness and expectancy of failure, misunderstandings and/or cock-ups lingered! I can’t help it!
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!
I made another brew and got the mushroom in the crock-pot with some black-bean sauce, sea salt, and a drop of Balsamic vinegar as flavourings added.
Herbert above did a bit of banging about, but no complaints, it took my mind temporarily off of the renewed howling of the ‘Hum’! Grrr!
I then made up a pictorial post with chronically bad rhyming comments. This took hours as well. But, I do enjoy it as long as someone gets a laugh, even a smile out of them. Sent that off as well.
On to the WordPress Reader. Then a few comments. Next on TFZer Facebooking and putting on photographs. Getting late now, the fatigue is setting in.
I’ll get the nosh sorted out. The plan is, if all works out, Rice with BBQ seasoning, and mushrooms with garden peas. I’ll see if I have any meat to go with it.
Back in a bit… I hope…
No meat in stock, hang on, I’ve got some frozen sausages in the fridge, I’ll use them! Hangeth on again, I’ve not done a top graphic and template for tomorrow yet. Better get on CorelDrawing. Dearie dearie me, no rest!
Gorrit dun at last! On wiv the fodder preparation!
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!
I really did enjoy it. Taste Rating: 7/10.
I went to finish off the soaking saucepans, cutlery and bits with the dish.
I suppose it was inevitable, what with having such an almost Whoopsiedangeplop-free day up to now. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, a bowl of dirty washing up water ended up, over me, the sink unit and the floor! It was a grind sorting things out and mopping, during which Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna burst into tormenting life! It was not a good situation at all. I’d got Toothache Tim as well coming on, and my mood sank into a depth of… well, dejection, a strong sense that I can do nothing right, and am worthless.
Then the Thought -Storming started: Disrespect of myself, the new ailments, an inability to see how I’m going to cope, no one to talk to, no time to get things done, past indiscretions and mistakes… Oh, yes, they were all flowing into the brain-box tonight!
After I’d completed the cleaning up, I was stood leaning against the four-pronger-stick, looking out at the unwelcoming skies and sinking even further into the quagmire of negativity. The brain, I think went into neutral, in rejection of my pathetically inept thoughts perhaps? I took this photograph without really realising why. Maybe the brain told me to, in an effort for me to see how weak and confused I had suddenly become?
The mind was floating from one subject to another, none of them encouraging. Then, like turning on the light-switch, the rumbling, grumbling and stinging came from the innards. Ah, the Porcelain Throne was needed! So, I swapped walking sticks and visited the wet room. Now, my changing to the wooden stick first, was surprising, in the state my brain was, I still remembered about the times I had tripped over the four-pronger in the past when visiting the Porcelain.
I got settled on the Throne, and for the first time in several days, the evacuation did ‘Not’ start on its own! I had regained control! This made me feel a little more confident, and I brightened up a tad. Painful, yes, but these movements always are for me, and with a bit of effort, I forced things along. I was feeling rather good now! Not up to Smugness-Mode yet, but an improvement on how I felt ten-minutes ago. Then I discovered a lot of bleeding going on from the rear-end. Any worries eased, when I realised it was via Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so no panic Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was not leaking! Cleaning things up, washed, medicated with the Germolene and Anusol creams, and changed PPs, getting the night attire on at the same time.
I exited the wet room, feeling terribly guilty at me getting myself in a pickle and depressed earlier on, in the first place.
I got settled in the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He searched for my valuables, which he found and stole.
Within seconds of turning on the TV to see what was on offer, and my woolgathering, dithering mind decided it could not recall if I had turned off the kitchen and wet room taps, cooker etc. and I just had to get up again to make sure things were okay. Which was a flipping good thing I did! I’d left the light on in the wet room, and the tap on in the kitchen! Phew!
I got back down in the grungy-beige-coloured, none-working recliner. Turned off the TV, feeling confident that feeling so weary now, I’d soon nod-off. But again, sleep was not coming quickly. But my usually aggravating peace of mind was more relaxed now, even with the frustration of not nodding off! Hehe!
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 kitchen, the tea was cold, so I made another mug of the Punjana tea. I took it with me to the computer, and as I started it, one of those terrible moments when you feel you’ve forgotten something, or not done summat arose. I wonder if there’s a word for this feeling? It wasn’t a panic, but I was worried, nervous about it at the same time. Nowt’s come to light or anything yet.
Still feeling a little low at my cock-up yesterday, the feeling, no, desire to do a self-knocking ode came to me. It had to be satisfied. So, I made one up. The words flowed out with ease, and it was soon finished and being posted off.
Then the grind began! Updating the Wednesday blog. Crikey! It took hours about six hours to get done! The number of photographs to sort and get on, and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were the main culprits for this wasted time. Shirley had actually stopped a few minutes ago, and she’s left me with an aching, probably bruised, if that is possible, to bruise a shoulder joint! This right one is not getting a lot of peace lately, with Shirley getting frisky so often.
As I was about to go through the comments, the same rumbling and grumbling came from the innards. So, off I went to the wet room again. This evacuation was back to the messy, gooey variety I’m afraid. Much cleaning, freshening and medicating required. A lot more bleeding this time, too? Beats me, why? Then again, me being beaten, is nothing new.
The workmen have been hard at it all morning. Funny how sometimes it does, then the noise doesn’t bother me? It can’t be helped, drilling through the flats concrete is a hell of a job.
Back on the computer, with a fresh mug of tea, of course. I tried to get the comments done again, and the intercom flashed and rang out. I could see a blokes stomach on the monitor an ID badge on his chest, couldn’t understand anything he was saying, but I let him in. It turned out it was a meter reader. This brought out thoughts of British Gas (The French-owned company) reminding me of their overcharging me, lying and telling different stories about the meters and the billing, then took me off of the cheap night-rate back onto a single straight cost. Put the price up, and asked me if I’d like to move to another company??? He went into the electricity cupboard and got the reading and shot off. I noticed that some mail had been delivered, five letters lay on the floor. Everyone a circular!
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.
The sky is looking amazing now, with its artistically flowing clouds. They are Cirrostratus type, I think.
I nearly went to get some biscuits to nibble, well, shame is I did go and get some. But I limited myself to a pack of three caramelised ones. Well, it’s a start to my upcoming diabetic diet?
Then I got a message on the mobile, looked it up, and it was from the Diabetic place. I have to ring them, on 0121 386 6971. I don’t suppose they were told about my hearing on the phone problems. Hang on, 0121? Isn’t that Birmingham? I looked up the number on the web. It was for Stopdiabetes ‘Ingeous’, so, I rang them.
Don’t know what it cost me, but I had to wait for a Speaking Message that I could not hear the words of. I pressed one and hoped for the best. Then waited for the piped music to stop. Then I got the chap. I was on the line for a good while. Especially with having to ask the man to repeat himself so often. Asked about times, I requested as early as possible and explained my problems with PM appointments. He looked up what was available, and he said an 09:30hrs one is free, at Top Valley. I explained about my problems getting there, my mobility etc. and he left me again to have another look. He’d found Sherwood Community Centre do the lessons, but may not have any free spots, but he will try to find out and let me know, he will ring me later.
I interposed, explaining that if I am out and anyone calls, I cannot hear the mobile in traffic or busy places! He sounded patient enough with me. I asked if possible, a text or email would be better. He was non-committal on that. Telling me, they have auto-phone calls set-up?
He then told me that an educator would be running the 60>90-minute course. “Educator? I could be an educator if you want to be educated on how to cut up and slice a spencer of bacon!” That got him! No sense of humour! Hehehe! He gave me some new telephone numbers for me to ring. Told me if I haven’t heard anything in a week, to ring them back again. Mmm? The Sherwood Community Centre would be fine for me. I could walk it in about 40-50 minutes if necessary. Providing I was up to tackling the climb up passing the tree copse, on the steep gravel path on the hill into the park, down to the main road, and along to the centre, and manage to get over the road without mishap. Fingers crossed that they can fit me in some time!
Back for visit three at the Porcelain Throne. A repeat style of the last one, messy! Very much so! Had a job cleaning and medicating again.
The pins (legs) were looking alright though. I’m certain those long Bamboo socks are helping.
I got some parsnips in a tray, with a quick spray of olive oil to soak-in ready to go in the oven later, and a can of peas in a saucepan.
Then got on the WordPress Reader section.
Then on the TFZer Facebooking.
At last, I could get the 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.
I took this evening shot in between washing, wringing and hanging the trousers. I thought it rather pretty with the tiny moon up high.
Remembered the medications a little late on, but no matter, I took them.
I settled in the £300, second-hand, much-abused, c1968, rickety non-working, recliner, and got the TV on. TRying to watch any of the programs between nod-offs, was a mordacious affair. As tired and short of sleep as I was, there was no way I could get to sleep and stay that way, again, like last night. Wake-up – Groan and moan to me… Nod–off, Wake-up – Groan and moan to me… on and on this misery went for hours!
Ah, well! At least the wee-weeing seems to be less intrusive, not a single leak all night!
As made famous by Monte Python. Written by Eric Idle, a genius!
♪ Keep on the bright side of life. De-dum, de-dum…♪
♫ Some things in life are bad They can really make you mad Other things just make you swear and curse When you’re chewing on life’s gristle Don’t grumble, give a whistle And this’ll help things turn out for the best And… Always look on the bright side of life Always look on the light side of life If life seems jolly rotten There’s something you’ve forgotten And that’s to laugh and smile and dance and sing When you’re feeling in the dumps Don’t be silly chumps Just purse your lips and whistle, that’s the thing Always look on the bright side of life! ♫
_____
May your foibles ferment with frenzied festivities for fun!
