Tuesday 8th January 2019
Mongolian: 2019 оны 1 дүгээр сарын 8-ны Мягмар гараг
23:10hrs. I woke with the brain in its natural receptive mood for worries, fretting, panicking, nervousness, utter-confusion, and agitation. I expected this to be interrupted as it normally is, by a call to the Porcelain Throne, an SSWW (Short-Dahrp-Wee-wee) or my discovering I was surrounded with signs of nocturnal nibbling evidence.
But no, not this morning.
However, the dwaal of thoughts soon faded into the ether, as I caught sight of the greatly extended and much more obtruding than usual stomach! With the heart op scars now more defined and stretched wide? A few more papsules had grown as well?
And where has all the hair gone? Ah, that was one of the side-effects of Furosemide, hair loss, I remember now!
I thought to myself: I could blow-up here! I hope I don’t get the dizzies and topple over onto my gut, or Splat, thud, silence, no more me! Hahaha!
With an operose effort, I extracted the more than usually stretched like a balloon stomach from the £300 second-hand recliner and got on my feet. There no bones, joints or any part of my torso, legs, knees, ankles, feet, even toes that didn’t moan in a complaint at my actions of movement! Oddly, the only bit of me that didn’t show any pain was the bulbous abdomen! In fact, it felt as if it was not a part of me. Some bizarre stuff going on here? With a few Oohs and arghs, and the occasional silent curse, I made my way limpingly to the kitchen.
But, within a few minutes, things seemed to settled down pain-wise. I assumed the problem was my marathon-hobble yesterday. The bones and joints, having not been used for six days or so prior, were unhappy about it. I’m glad I didn’t croak-out over the six or seven days when I spoke to or saw nobody. What a stink I would have left for the other tenants. Especially, if the tummy had exploded! Hahaha!
Had an SSWW. As I got the gear out for the Health Checks, thermometer, hypodermic, medications, creams, lotions, and sphygmomanometer, etc., I had to divert back to the wet room and for a Porcelain Throne session. Back to the messy, liquified type. But, no bleeding from the front or rear, which I welcomed. There was a lot of involuntary wind escaping, though. A quick wash, and back to the Health Checking.
The hemadynamometer took a couple of tries before it worked. Must do a battery check if I remember late.
As the fluid appears to be going down in the legs, the BP seems to be rising?
I took just a half a Furosemide today with the other medications.
Started computerisationing. 
It took me a phenomenal amount of time to get the Monday post completed. As I expected it would. Yesterday had been a photo-filled painful marathon, that needed a lot of concentration and detailed presentationing to get anywhere near how I wanted it to appear. The Liberty-Global Virgin Media’s poor performance didn’t help at all. Eventually, I got it sorted and posted.
I checked the Emails, and Sister Jane and hubby Pete had sent me their kind permission to visit them today at their castle (Christmas and birthday presents to be taken). So, a long day ahead for yours-truly. Got to get blogs sorted, gather the pressies for Jane and Pete’s Christmas and birthday treats. Do the ablutions. Then carry the gifts with me on my walk to the doctor’s surgery for the blood test. Then walk carrying them into town, take some photos while I wait for the bus to arrive to get me to West Bridgford, then walk burdened to their mansion with the pressies. Get Pete to take some posed photographs. Get told-off by Sister Jane about as yet unknown things (My increasing weight will no doubt be on her agenda, Hehe!) Then leave early, catch a bus to town, then another to the hospital; so I can get to the clinic for 1430hrs. Then get a bus to… But its no bother at all! I’ve frit myself thinking of it. Hahaha! I think the wee-weeing and body will cope alright, though. (He says confidently)
I made a start on this post. But had no time to Comments, Facebooking or WordPress reader section viewing. I shall certainly not be fit enough when I get back to do anything. Anyway, I must get the ablutions done.
All cleaned and cleansed. I got the pressies in the bags, realised the weight and just knew that I would struggle on my hobble. But didn’t understand how bad it would be at this time, and thought I’d cope alright. What a Luftmensh!
I set out, with foolish confidence that I’d get through the walk to the doctors for the blood test, and then carry on hobbling into town, to catch a bus to Sister Jane’s splendacious security mansion with its Burg-Wächter PointSafe, two-alarms, a bedroom converted to a wine cellar, nine CCTV cameras. And hubby Petes collection of spy cameras, drones, tasers, knuckle-dusters, cars, electric bikes, truncheons, spectacles with cams fitted, Danalock Bluetooth Z-Wave Smart Lock, and 
motion sensors. Well, with the amount of cash and things left to them by distant unknown relatives, and all their winnings on the Football Pools and Lottery over the years, you can’t blame them! Jealous? Me? Au Contraire!
The lift cage was in a bit of a state as I noticed as I got in it. Mind you, so was I. Haha!
By the time I had limped down Winchester Street hill and got onto Mansfield Road, the toes and left foot was giving me enough bother for me to consider my going back home. But, my desire to see Jane and Pete, and supply them with some alcohol to keep them going (Guffaw!), I decided to press on.
The traffic was heavy now, as I arrived in Carrington at the surgery in a right pickle, physically. The weight of the bags had taken a lot out of me, and I knew I had twice as far to go yet to get to town afterwards.
I signed in, remembering to ask for an appointment with the doctor for next Tuesday. My remembering to this, made me feel good! I took a seat, getting out the crossword book from the cram-filled bag. Then, I heard moments later, the voice of Nurse Ann bark out my name. I followed her, as she showed obvious annoyance at my slow limping pace and maladroit struggle to keep up with her on the walk to her torture roo… sorry, treatment room. “Go straight through, sit there, I don’t have much time allowed, let’s get on with it!” I was not in any condition to argue, I sat got the arm ready, and she soon had the blood taken. I continued to waffle throughout. She asked what the problem was with my foot, and I told her, not that my words got any reception much. My taking the wrong paperwork with me didn’t help matters. I got the impression that she considered me a bit of a kvetch or jobbernowle. Oh, dear! Still, the gal was only doing her job conscientiously. I thanked her and slipped her a mini bottle wine for a New Year treat. She put it out of view straight away, telling me she did not want anyone to think she was drinking on the job. I thought of a funny response to that statement, but judiciously, I kept it to myself. I handed a bag of nibbles in on the reception desk as I left.
Amazingly I had spent only 13 minutes in the surgery. Now I was out in the dark again and had to hobble to the City Centre. Which was no problem time-wise as I had an hour and a half to get there. Usually, this route would take me about 40 minutes, but I knew I would have to keep stopping while the toe pains lessened and starting again.
As I got to the Boulevard traffic island, the first of many to follow stops were taken. The pain was on my limits of tolerations, but each time I stopped, the pain died down and off I’d go again… I’m losing my plot here, sorry. As I rested, I took this photograph of an overhanging bush on the pavement side. Bootiful! A winter-growing delicate flower it seems.
I pressed on, up the hill and down to near the junction with Huntingdon Street, where this Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist belted by me so close I felt a draught! Git! I put down the bags and had to zoom in to get this photo of the animal. A bit blurry I know, but I was shaking with part surprise at the idiot doing what he did, and rage!
Still, it gave me time for a couple of minutes to recover and let the toe pain lessen, before starting-off again.
When I got into town, I still had a while before the first West Bridgford bus was due. Although the 40-minute walk had taken me well over an hour with the toe hassle and breaks, I needed to take. I was concerned about this and decided to have a look at the state of the foot as soon as I got a chance. If the skin were broken, I’d rub some of the Phorpain gel on it. I dare not take any extra painkillers while I’m on the Furesomide.
I visited the Victoria Centre shopping mall in
search of chocolate treats for Jan and Pete. I got a chocolate football boot for Pete; and an Angel one for Jane. I had their name put on them in icing. After paying for them, I reorganised the bags, so they were both on the top of the other stuff, I didn’t want to break or squash them.
I left out onto Upper Parliament Street; it was getting much lighter now. I went over to the bus stop, and for the devil-of-me, I could not recall which bus I needed. I knew it was either a number 5 or 7. After asking someone who did not know, I checked the route timing on the board and decided it was number 7 I needed. Which fortunately arrived in ten minutes.
I got the camera against the window of the bus, with the intention of taking a photograph of the Nottingham Forest ground as I went over Trent Bridge.
I took this terrible accidental shot from the bus before we got to the bridge. The shaking about made me catch the button I think. Then at the next bus stop, a large lady sat in the seat in front, and that the end my picture plans.
I alighted on Davis Road, right at the end of Jane’s road. Avoiding a long walk, which was good! I rang them, to let them know I was on the way. I was greeted at the door. A sad sight I must have been. I was in much pain, shattered, and struggled to get over the doorstep when I was admitted and had been given permission to enter. Chuckle!
Jane asked about how many cards I’d had – Boing! I’d put them all on top of the DVD shelving, and forgotten all about them, this did not impress Jane in the slightest! To be fair, it didn’t impress me much either!
A great welcome awaited me. These are photographs I took on my wonderful visit:
Sister Jane helped me clarify a few things:
- I am eating the wrong food for breakfast. It should be boiled egg or cereals!
- My fluid-filled gigantic Furosomide induced stomach is my own fault for overeating.
- I can get off the bus at the railway station and catch a tram into town, then get an L9 home.
- My weight is my fault, and I must get it down.
- The flat needs cleaning and tidying urgently.
- I have to stop buying things I don’t need.
- I have no will-power!
- I must stop eating pork pies!
- They both liked the pressies I’d took them, particularly the bottles of wine. Hehe!
Pete took some shots of me to use in future graphics, bless him.
After telling me the best way to go home, we hugged, and I departed.
Just avoiding this Pavement Cyclist while I was at the bus stop. Grumph!
I had a while to spare before the bus was due when I got in town. I had a walk around. A bit busier today.
The toes started to ache and hurt again. I caught the bus home, without seeing any fellow residents en route or on the bus.
When we arrived back at Winwood Heights, the bus going the other way was in front of us unloading.
I called out to the folks who got off ahead of me. I could see, Penny, Mary and Welsh William… They just increased their speed. Hahaha! By the time I got in, they had all gone, along with my chances for a litter gossip or natter.
I was totally done-in when I arrived home. The toes in agony, SSWWs needed repeatedly, and I was really hungry for some reason.
First thing I did was to investigate the troubled tootsies! Not a pretty sight, and I could not see what had caused this ailment? Yesterday, there were no signs of lesions or blood? I could not apply any pain-gel, while the skin is cracked.
I got the Health Checks done for midday and evening together. The medications were taken.
I got the sourdough part-baked baguette in the 
oven. When it was cooked, I broke it up and buttered bits of it, adding the salad selection and egg to it. Oh, and a mini pork pie. Please don’t mention the mini pork pie to Sister Jane, I beg you.
It went down a treat! I gave this effort a Flavour Rating of 8.9/10.
I got the TV on, to watch a ‘Frost’ DVD episode on.
I hadn’t got far into it, when I heard noises, and this was with the headphones on!
I got out of the recliner and had a wander around in search of any danger the noises might be from.
Whe
n checking the spare room, I thought this scene outside. It looked a bit like a computer generated image. I fetched the camera to take this photo. The new cladding looked like it was from a computer game.
I imagine the lighting at the time helped give this effect?
The noise did not sound again, and could find nothing untoward, so back to the recliner.
I think I fell asleep before I restarted the DVD.
Ah-well!
I found far too many signs of nocturnal-nibbling and found myself surrounded with detritus. As I viewed the dreck around me, my heart sank – for I could not recall any eating whatsoever. The crumbs on my protruding flobby-stomach, the pot of potato chips, jelly babies and an empty jars with no indication of what I’d put in them, the two empty and one half-emptied 500ml bottles of spring water and the part-eaten tub of BBQ smoked almonds all seemed a mystery to me! I lay a while, without moving, and pondered over this dilemma. I feared it might have happened because of the low-spirits I have been in? Not having seen a tellurian, nevermind a tenant to talk or natter to in seven days now! Stuck indoors due to the ailments, and being chinwagless… I fought off the self-pity, and told myself I’d risk going out for a hobble today, come what may! Thank Gawd for the internet! Its kept me going through this terribly lonely and frustrating period. 
The readings looked okay to me. I got the half-tablet of the dreaded Furosemide, taken with the morning medications. 
I was now feeling a tad chirpier in myself (Always an indication of some imminent disaster, Accifauxpa, Calamity, Loss or Mega-Whoopsiedangleplop, I know!). 
Then on Facebook, get the photos in the albums. Cause if I can get out for a hobble later, I will be in no state to remember or even do when I get back home to this peaceful, persons free, slowly turning into a grubbier apartment. Hehe! 
Back down and out again. It was pleasing to see the Willmott Dixon crew starting work after their two-week holiday break. My neighbour Malcolm was just setting out in his new car.
I pressed on to a surprisingly quiet Arnold.
I paid and hobbled to the bus stop. I thought I might see Penny there but didn’t. 
I decided there was no point in my trying to get anything done other than eat and then sleep. 
The Limoncello dessert I decorated with some slices of Sharon fruit (persimmon). Very tasty!
00:25hrs. I woke with the brain suffering the Babeldom of inner and perhaps even external voices for all I knew! Arguing, postulating, and squabbling over anything and everything that came into the grey-cells! It felt as if I was outside looking in. I was farmisht and for a moment or two scared by the brains independent actions. And yet I showed mansuetude in response, and just waited a good few minutes until the mind steadied down, regaining its usual placid-vacuity, and awaiting my input and or control. 
The results were a little higher than of late, especially the temp and ever-increasing flipping weight! The Sys I think needed to be higher after yesterdays worrying to me, lows.
I took this photo of the kitchen window from the doorway facing out as I left to have another SSPWW (Sort Sharp Painful Wee-wee). 
Off for another Porcelain Throne visit, as I kept going from warm to shivering a few times, and had a few coughing bouts. Hello, hello! 
I pondered on whether or not I should try the Polish canned Breakfast Delicacy or not? I read the ingredients: Meat (37%), Water, Meat fat, Meat rind, Beef meat (7%), Mechanically separated chicken meat, starch, salt, stabilisers… 
I decided to have two (I ended up having all four, though, Hehe!) Texan-T-Dogs (Sausages) with some potato sticks. Simple brekkers, but tasty enough. Unquestionably more desirable than risking the Sokołów Breakfast Delicacy!
The legs had surely got gone down fluid-wise this morning. 
Although it looked like some blood-bruising was coming up on the lower chins and here and there.
When making a mug of tea, I noticed how clear it was outside, no mist here yet. 
knocked various accoutrements off of the shelf. Grumph!
Went for another long SSWW.
Then I got some potato curls and sausages in the oven for breakfast. 
Once again, I woke up with the urgent, nae, desperate Furosemide-induced need for a painful PHBLWW (Persistent, Hosepipe-Blasting like Wee-wee). No time to make it to the wet room, I utilised the grey plastic bucket I nowadays keep handy for any nocturnal emergencies such as this. The evacuation was an extra-long one, and the splashbacks countered by my cunningly-clever ploy of placing kitchen towels over the proceedings. Smug-Mode Adopted! I have now lost all control over the process, and have to look down to see if things have stopped, as the sensation has also gone. It’s not easy, having to see down and over the mountainous stomach, you know! Oy Gevalt!
Back on the computer, I looked up for things that might be causing my current additional problems. I found out that, it may be a Phosphatidylethanolamine problem. Or not. Phospholipids consist of a hydrophilic (or ‘water-loving‘) head and a hydrophobic (or ‘water-fearing’) tail. Phospholipids like to line up and arrange themselves into two parallel layers, called a phospholipid bilayer. This layer makes up your cell membranes and is critical to a cell’s ability to function. Simple isn’t it? Not a good idea to look things up on the internet, when you are as uneducated and thick as what I am. Hahaha! 
I got the breakfast sorted. The knife had to be sharpened again for it to get through the sourdough bread. 
The thirst and hunger were in need of satisfying. 
I found myself sort of sliding off of the recliner, banged the swollen knees on the Ottoman, ignored the pain and got up, tripped over a slipper and knocked over the mineral water bottle, and made my way as fast as possible to the wet room. It was as close as one could be, to being too late… but, I made it, (phew!) and the splashing and spraying commenced the moment my bottom hit the Throne seat, from both areas in need! Messy, remarkably slapdash and embarrassing, the mess I had to clean up afterwards! I felt so unclean and decided that although it was so late, I had to get 
myself under the shower.
had a pretty pattern on it. I thought for a moment that it looked like a maggot with a nose and eyes at the far end? Hahaha!
As I was drying myself off, I spotted several of the EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetles) lurking about on the dry part of the wet room floor, near to the door! Three live ones and two dead carcases. I grabbed the Sanmex Bug Killer can, and it was empty! Out and to my ‘Repellent Armoury drawer’ to collect another can of killer spray… 
Even the new thermometer worked the first time and quickly for me! 
I went on the WP reader and comments while I waited for the chips to cook.
I had a look out of the unwanted kitchen windows, with the extra glass to clean that I cannot reach to clean, the light and view-blocking view and that I have to take photographs out of, blind because I have to hang out of the window to get over the ridiculously wide ledge… what was I saying?… Oh yes! I got the camera back inside and checked on the viewer whether the Asda delivery had arrived or not yet. It hadn’t. 
So drained again now, I made three sarnies of buttered Sourdough bread with pork loin.
Shot awake after about four hours, and everything else, bar getting to the ‘Emergency LHBLWW (Long Hosepipe-Blasting like Wee-wee) Bucket!’ was put on hold.
The sphygmomanometer worked at the first try. 
four LHBLWWs!
I went to sort some breakfast out, and watch YouTube clips, while I eat it. 
I used the bucket twice without emptying and disinfectantising it. Two wee-wees and I could hardly lift the bucket, it was over half-full! I took a photo of the container to let you see how big it is. 
Got the brekkie all eaten up. 
I had a lamb burger sandwich using bread thins. I also tired a new dessert style. A pot of Asda Walmart raspberry ripple mousse, and sprayed some of the Wriggly cream (the low-fat one, haha!) on top of it. By the time I got around to eating it, the Wriggly had dissolved, but by gum, it tasted so good!
Oh, boy! If you had seen my antics in painfully trying to get my overweight gargantuan-stomached body out of the £300 second-hand recliner and to the emergency SSWW bin in time, for what turned out to be a Power-Short-Sharp-Wee-wee, you would not have been able to resist bursting into laughter; even I smiled afterwards! Hehehe! 
The BP seemed to be worryingly low. I took the medications and made a brew, then took the second Health Check. 
I made up a blog with the photographs I’d just taken out of the windows, of the fireworks from the New Year lovers of Nottingham. And got it posted off to WordPress as a post.
Despite the heat from the oven, and the thermometer showing the temperature to be about 64°f – 17.77°c in the kitchen, and the warmth coming from the new storage radiator which was fitted too close that I could not open my cupboards and had to be moved, leaving me with plastering, painting and a new floor to be paid for and fitted. But no point in doing anything yet about that or the carpets that were ruined by the plasterer, as the electricians, plumbers and alarm installation people are still to come to make their particular mess in installing communications and a sprinkler system yet. I was still feeling so cold? Heck of a mouthful there, Haha!
I got some brekkie made up. Mini pork pies, pickled gherkins, cooked chestnuts, and a few oven chips, followed by a raspberry mousse, that went down very well as I watched a YouTube clip on the Grenfell disaster. I see that no one has been blamed or taken the blame yet. Makes me sick! Well, that’s true come think of it, I am sick! Hehe!
in the least. I went on WordPress reader.