Tuesday 25th June 2019
Africaans: Dinsdag 25 Junie 2019
04:10hrs. I have to admit it, I woke in a foul, niggly almost execrable mood! I had been dreaming a lot, but cannot recall anything of them, I just knew I’d been suffering nightmare-like dreams. The mind was rampant with fears, nervous worries and near panic. Why? I know not!
I removed with some ease for me, my overburdened, roly-poly body from the c1968, £300 second-hand rickety-recliner. I walked unaided to make use of the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee bucket), by taking a lamentable and long and surprisingly wearying LSPDOWWs (Long-Slow-Painfull-Drawn-Out-Wee-Wee). By the time I had finished this, the niggliness had departed the grey-cells. (?) Another bit of fortuitousness, I had the forethought to grab the walking stick, before making my way to the kitchen.
I’m so glad I did. As I hobbled into the room, all hell let loose with the shaking and damaged axonotmesis-neurotmesis influenced dancing right shoulder and leg! Yet I really wished that a CCTV had been working in the kitchen! I would dare anyone, and that would include me, not to have laughed at the limbs antics! I must have looked like a cross between a tiller-girl and some old git trying his best to do the hokey-cokey, without any coordination whatsoever! Hehehe! I somehow kept my balance, but it was a close call. The getting away without going over,
cheered me up a bit, I think.
I took a photograph of the morning view from the unwanted, unliked new kitchen window. Those with the unreachable extra panes that need cleaning, block out the light & view and need the potentially deadly to me, stepladders to be used in the event of wanting check quickly for emergency vehicles in the event of a fire alarm, which I can’t hear anyway.
I got on with the morning’s hand washing. Only a t-shirt and the long bamboo socks rinsed them, wrang them out as best I could, and got them on the stand-up airer in the hallway.
I made up the next two medication pots for the day. Then I had to visit the Porcelain Throne then. An amazingly easy session. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain and no messy things to clean up afterwards!
Things seemed to be getting so much easier as the morning went on. But the EQ was not going to let me get overconfident, and a warning sensation came over me.
I got the Health Checks and today’s morning medications taken. The results were: Sys 135, Dia 69, Pulse 89 and the Temperature came out as 35°c, all looked good to me.
I got on the computer to do the updating of the Monday blog. Which did take an extraordinarily long time, with all the pictures to download, get into CorelDraw and resize, then put on the post.
To make things worse and more difficult, after an hour or two, the electric-like fingers, hands arm and shoulder started dancing again, and stayed that way for what seemed like an aeon! Tsk! Many and repeated mistakes had to be corrected, which was annoying, irritating and exasperating in the extreme! Damnations and execrations!
I got the blog finished an posted off at last! I decided to have a break and make a mug of tea. But could I find a walking stick? No! After walking by passing it several times, I found it in the hallway, hidden in clear view! A new mood-mode was created for how I felt at this moment: BPAFM Beyond-Pathetic-and-Feeble-Minded Mode Engaged! How sad!
It got even worse, I’m afraid. As I was carrying the mug of tea back to the computer desk, the damned dancing started again! The freshly poured out tea spilt over and scalded the left index finger!
After a lot of openly voiced loud cursing (Sorry neighbours!), I returned to the kitchen’s first-aid drawer and applied some cream on it! The cream bubbled when I put it on. I had to smile at this, despite my feeling well-wee’d-off at the same time!
I was almost back to the niggly outlook when I got back on the computer, as the hand finger and shoulder dancing continued for ages!
I started prepping things to start off this post going, and the doorbells rang out. As I approached the hallway, I heard the door open. It was Obersturmbannführeress Warden and Pole-dancer Deana. She’d come to test the health wrist alarm and fire alarm batteries with the control room. Both were okay.
I inquired about the appointment she was going to make for me with the intercom-fitting and installation people yesterday. She came right out with it, she has been that busy she had forgotten about it. I liked her straight honesty! She called them there and then for me, bless her cotton socks. She made a booking for next Friday 5th Julie, twixt 08:30 and 10:30hrs, which was good for me, and I thanked her. She had to shoot off, so much to do, so little time. I wonder, who was the first person who said that? Hehe!
Dusty Springfield’s ‘I only want to be with you’ rang out from the doorbells again.
It was the mailman, with two letters and a parcel to sign for. The big envelope was the Age UK contract for the house insurance, the small one the INR Warfarin test results and the box, was another set of support-strapping from the Orthotics at the City Hospital. I was so glad it had arrived.
I took another break from the frustrating dancing-finger controlled typing, and wet to move the washing on the airer. The Fire Alarm sounded, I would not have heard it anywhere else in the flat. I checked outside. Not using the deadly kitchen windows, but the far less harmful balcony window, but could not see any emergency vehicles below. I thought the fire-alarm testing was to be done on a Thursday.
I started to do some TFZer Facebooking. After ten minutes, my EQ told me to check outside again from the balcony.
Aha! The fire brigade had arrived on site. I could tell by the casual and steady pace of the officers approached the foyer door, the alarm might well be another false one. They did not look happy people as they departed after yet one more false alarm from the old fogies high rise dwellings. And rightly so!
I returned to the computer and checked on the Google, no, BBC weather for today at 1400hrs. The Nottingham forecast looked a bit rain-soaked to me. But it was only spotting with rain outside.
At long last, I made a start on this blog! Well gone, midday!
And the curtains all fell off of the hooks holding them in place! What? Eh? Flipping ‘eck!
I got up on the stepladder and hooked a few rings back on.
A make-do, for now, a temporary job, of course. What had caused this almost a phenomenon, beats me!
I had another of the frequent today, wee-wees, and made a brew of tea.
I checked if any and which Ladies Football matches might be on TV today.
Tired out again now. I’ll get the nosh sorted and ready for watching the football later.
Mushy peas with vinegar, fish cakes and battered pollock.
Must remember the Audio clinic in the morning. The timing is fair enough, anyway. I can catch either the 09:30 or at a push the 10:30 bus. I made a reminder note and hung it on the computer screen!
The drizzle lasted all afternoon and evening on and off, but as Paul Daniels used to say: ‘Not a lot!’
Well, what a soccer match I watched.
Italy v China. A look at the match statistics on the right, tells a tale for me!
I felt the need to visit the Porcelain Throne, so I did so. Hehe!
What a farcical event, ridiculous in the extreme, hardly believable. Bonkers and brought on a lot of self-doubts.
I settled on the throne, and mid-struggle to get the evacuation started… I fell asleep!
I woke up an hour or so later, perplexed, wondering where I was, and why? The shakes started as I rose up top ‘clean things’, and the aroma was a little putrid. It took a minute or two to get myself together and sorted out mentally.
Half in a strange daze, I cleaned up and made my way back to the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, and think I fell asleep almost immediately.
Worran odd day!
Off to the kitchen, and got the hand-washing done. A call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, a rather urgent one, and off to the wet room. The evacuation was swift and not too painful, whatsoever. Cleaning certain ‘things’ up afterwards, I discovered some minuscule bleeding from Little Inchy and Harold’s haemorrhoids. First time for Inchy in many weeks, it surprised me a bit. It may be due to the high INR level.
nt okay. The poor old, seemingly constantly well-stubbed right toe, suddenly began to sting for no reason, as it had been calm with little pain earlier? There was some bleeding again.
Marks and somewhat unique colouration appeared on the bulbous, elephantine stomach again. Along with some new papsules and spots. The Tate Gallery might be interested in this photograph? Haha!
I went to make a brew of tea and was surprised at how the weather had changed from earlier.
distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. And Telling Inchcock off Zone, there were a dozen or so residents in differing states of consciousness, awareness and confusion. Hehehe! I did notice that the entrance-exit door on the Woodthorpe Court end of the cabin, was still awaiting being finished off.
We dropped off on Upper Parliament Street. My getting off last, I usually do this, as I find I am less danger to folks with the trolley, this way. I followed some other alighted passengers and saw this very tall young ‘Vaper’ near a bus stop. By gum, he was giving off some smoke! No problem from me about it though. At least the lad is trying to stop the tobacco, and the Vaping does far less damage to his insides I believe.
I ambled on towards Clumber Street and took this photo of a reasonably busy Upper Parliament Street. 
On the slow, steady hobble down through Clumber Street, I took some pictures. They should have bot had Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist in them. 
I walked down South Parade, into the Slab Square. Hobbled onto Wheeler Gate, and into the Poundland shop, naughtily in search of some Pork-Farms Pork Pies! Guilty- Mode-engaged! 
language is enough for me to get confused over and make a mess of.
about; probably busy shoplifting, street begging or mugging someone.
Caroline dropped off at the Briarwood Home, and I got off the bus with the rest of us ragamuffins, at Winchester Court. And hobbled along home to Woodthorpe Court. 
The sky looked a little active if that’s the word, tonight. It looked beautiful. 
the toe. The session went well, not too messy, no bleeding, no accifauxpas, and not as painful as they have been recently. I still resisted getting any hopes up, that things might be going right for once! But it was almost a pleasant experience for me. Haha! 
little apprehensive about the weight, after last nights naughty orgy on the nibbles.
So, off to the Steptoe & Son-like junk-scrap, rubbish room, and got onto the scales. Oh, dearie me! I seem to have gained a pound or two. Humph! After a few minutes of 
, anti-photographer, light & view blocking, wind letting in, can’t see anything below from, new windows, was bonny, despite the lack of any sunshine yet. This picture made me feel somewhat inadequate and negative for a while. The realisation that I can no longer take a walk through the beloved Tree Copse hit me. I considered trying to take a hobble up the hill through the copse later, but the risks were too 
significant to risk. This saddened me! 
minutes. They were both of the SSBSWW (Short-Sharp-But-Sprinkly-Wee-wee) type.
The right 
them off.
Got the pots washed.
e with a determination, rekindled, reignited, rejuvenated, to stop my ever-increasing weight the last few days! Perhaps I’d been dreaming about it, but I cannot recall for sure. I was confident that the oleogustusness of the body had shot up, (not surprising eating meal such as last nights veritable feast – photo right), as I freed the torso from the £300, c1968, ancient, grotty beige coloured rickety recliner. So sure, that I decided to weigh myself, expecting the worse.
Then a wash and off to the spare (junk) room to weigh my enormously elephantine wobbly body. The mystery of the disappearing scales confused me for a while. After faffling around searching, moving the three and the four-wheeled trolleys, stacks of boxes of Protection Pants, knocking over one of the metal hanger racks, and picking up the togs and replacing them, I found the scales. They were nestled in a corner, under a pile of clothes to take to the Charity Shop? I dug them out and adjusted the setting, so they were correct, and cautiously stood on them… Well, it was not a bad as I thought it would be, but still up on the last weighing. Although lower than before the stroke, at 14st-9lb. So, the stone I’d lost had gone down 
again, and stinging a bit as it did so. A new classification for this one, a DTPLWW (Dribbling-Trickling-Painful-Long-Wee-wee) Humph!
bothered me a smidge. It looked like the ankle ulcer was coming back. Well, it looked like it to me, I could see the colouring coming on like it did last and the first time. I could feel the same tingling sensation from it as before, just before the growth bursting out?
Got the health-checks done and medications taken. 
morning, Shepherds Warning’ – I checked on the weather for today on Google. 
cing moment! Oh, Gawd-blimey, yes!
Some sorting of paperwork, then got the nosh served up. 
me at the time. 
The masticated and well-stubbed big right toe was looking a little less tender, but it was still painful all the same. 
I tore off the wrapper of some foil cooking trays and got the tiniest, teensy-weensy, piffling, cut on the end of the right index finger. 
blutions done and get ready to go out. Which only produced one minuscule shaving cut (hardly worth mentioning really), and the slightest of toe-stubbing against the shower-seat metal leg, that made me jump a bit. A few more spots and papsules were showing up.
swollen, with the heart op scars showing vividly. To me, anyway? 
And I gave the already, wounded, still-tender, bashed about right toe, another right-good stubbing on the Ottoman! 
I did the belated health checks, which did not look good today. Sys 89, Dia 69, Pulse 105, and Temperature 34.1°c. 
The morning was nice and bright, even a bit of sun came out. 
I got some sliced mushrooms in the crock-pot with a splash of the 40% balsamic vinegar, and podded some peas and got them in the saucepan. 
Michael arrived, and I was over the moon to have a great, proper two-way varied discussion for an hour or more. I wasn’t aware that Michael had had three strokes, and it proves his determination, they only kept him in the hospital for three days last time! Then he found out he should have gone to another hospital or clinic, but nobody had told him! Yes, we share our luck sometimes, Mike and me! I regretted it when he had to go, but it was great of him to call, and it cheered me up considerably! I tried to take his photo as he got in his car, but the shakes meant I could not take one in time. Still, I got his tank with him in it! Haha! The one on the left. 
Feeling a little blue after he had departed, I heard more muffled sounds, so checked, and I had had three letters delivered. The Warfarin INR level results. A letter from Boots opticians Which I screwed up an threw in the recycling bin. And, a message about the fitting of the upgrading of the door-entry Intercom communication.the very thought of any electricians working in the flat, gives me goose-bumps and scares me to death, at the thought of having to clean up after them!
I got the nosh on that wasn’t already on, and put some chips (fries) in the oven. 
I woke, (a decent six-hours kip) this Wednesday with an unnatural desire, nae, craving, to get the hand-washing I did last night, to the drying process. It was as if it was crucial, life-threatening or catastrophic consequences would be suffered if I di
d not get the t-shirt and socks onto the drier? 
Yet, still, I suffer ailments (Issues as used by the NHS departments who refused to tend to my toenail cutting and pediatric needs – no, I mean podiatry needs). I suffer from abasia, ischaemia, anxiousness, nervousness, equivocation, aquaphobia, ophidiophobia, I regularly get urine infections, insipience, I’ve overcome alcoholism, got inscience, get panic-attacks, absent-mindedness, and anandriousness. I stopped smoking, Arthur Itis, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis, Peripheral neuropathy, Lethologica, Axonotmesis, Have a metal/plastic ticker, never got beyond being a Prol, aboulomania, arithmophobia, atrial septal defect, duodenal ulcers, dysphoria, deafness, colour blindness, and prostate cancer. Bullied at school, been shot, generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), made redundant twice, loneliness, then had a stroke, lost mobility, balance, and coordination. And I was granted at birth, with the smallest most embarrassingly miniscule whatsit, anyone has ever seen! A source of total shame, embarrassment, awkwardness, mortification, self-consciousness, shame, humiliation, and shyness in my younger years. Thus the weltschmerz joins this list! 
I’d got the camera in my dressing gown pocket though, and decided to show you a picture of, possibly the most lethal piece of equipment in the apartment! Indeed, this month it has been, Hahaha!) The right big toe stubbing leg on the Red Cross provided second-hand used toilet seat raiser. I actually flinched as I took this photographicalisation! At the thought and memories of past-picklements and toe stubbings, I’ve had recently! Hehe! 
, and took a photo of the ‘Turf Accountant Gang’. The lads were laying the lawn in front of Woodthorpe Court. 
I alighted the bus, and battled the scary traffic on my way first, to the greengrocers. Where I got some pod peas, not many, they were not in a very-fresh condition, toe big potatoes for Josie and me at the weekend, and some eggs. 
tomatoes and something else, can’t remember what at the moment. 
wn the road, even when a pavement cyclist came up towards me, it didn’t really register. I was taking the shot to capture the speed-sign on the kerbside further down Woodthorpe Drive. 
that was new to me. 
excruciating!
After what seemed like a fortnight, I got myself at last moving again, gingerly, carefully and with a certain amount of trepidation, and briefly visited the Garden shop, nothing of interest in it for me.
On my leaving, I spotted the sign about the automatic door. If it’s automatic, why do you need to press the button to open it? Haha! 
I know it was terribly painful. 
No fancy meals tonight, no time. I was in agony with both feet and the right big toe, and I wanted to stay awake long enough to watch the England Ladies match against Japan. 
he doorbell. 
it was – then saw the time, and understood. I had enjoyed over eight hours sleeping! Well, I must have needed and inwardly clamoured for it? 
new, extra-long diabetic socks. 
t have long before I needed to do the ablutions before it arrives. I barely had the time, to add the link to Timothy Prices wonderfully done song to my post in response to his new link. He’s put it on his site as well. It took me two hours!
no stubbing of the toe, and no dropping anything, either.
new longer ones do.
. The driver told me it included some freebies this week. So, when I saw some Quorn Vegetarian Bacon fall out of one of 
I went to make a 
The sky looked so enigmatic, no, that’s not t
I was feeling a little unlucky, and I have to admit, a tad sorry for myself. Pathetic, I know!
02:30hrs. I woke so slowly it was hard to believe it was happening. The mind’s initial refusal to accept the very thought of waking-up, the clinomania, was stubborn. Thinking the brain was about to go into one of its uhtceare-moments, I had to adopt agrypnotic ideas to encourage and convince myself of the need to get out of the £300, second-hand, gungy-beige, c1968, sometimes-working, rickety recliner. I tried convincing myself that, “I have to get ready to go to the Doctor’s about the shortage of Beta-blockers” and “Ask about the mislaid, never to be seen Cancer Sample envelope again!”, and was answered with a distant, but not very committed, “Sod-you!” from within the grey-cells! As luck would have it, the rather sudden and urgent need for a wee-wee, forced my brain and body to engage reluctantly. 
see the Sherwood Health Centre from the unwanted new kitchen window. All lit up with the yellow lights in the car park. 
I carried on with blogging for a while, and I had to use the bucket several times, all for LSPDOWWs (Long-Slow-Painfull-Drawn-out-Wee-wees). I had to again take the bucket for emptying and sanitisationing. 
I notice that down in the shadows, below, in the Chestnut Way bushes near the footpath, some wood pigeons were seemingly airing themselves out.
ataclysmic exigencies. These don’t let me down, they are almost guaranteed!
weight, and went tp the wet room, and utilised the sock-glide. Which, with the new socks being too long, was a bit of a battle. I ended up with some bruises, courtesy of the metal glide. Hehe! 
I set off, down Chestnut Way. Not being able to use the footpath, due to lighting repairs or cleaning, I limped up the roadway.
As I turned down the Winchester Street hill, the brakes on the trolley were hardly capable of stopping the guide from running away.
I carried on down to Mansfield Road, and right up to the Co-op Store. The feet were particularly painful again. I hope I can manage until a week on Friday, when the poor feet and toes will get a check-over, after waiting to fifteen weeks or so, it’s probably longer. Grumph! Niggle! 
Seconds later, the sky was all bright again? Beats me why? 
As I was going into the shop up the dodgy steps, I took this photograph I found on the SD card, but do not have much idea why? 
recognition signs were there; Consulting a book while perusing the China ornaments, keeping his back to the assistants, and wearing a shifty look on his face! Haha! 
After a nose in A.C. Allan, my optician’s window (well, he has some gorgeous looking young assistants working there! Haha!), I moved on.
or him. 
As I got to the L9 and others bus stop, I took a seat, (A rare happening for me!) to ease the pain from the suffering plates and tootsies, that were getting worse than ever, pain-wise. 
erable excuse for a law-abiding imbecilic moron, a little further up the pedestrian’s pavement! Shame, he hasn’t got a job to go to. Mind you the oink, might be a night worke
As the time got close to the bus is due, there was still no signs of any of my fellow oldies, not that many of them are old nowadays, with the minimum age going down to 50 for applicant residents… 
Too tired to even think of doing any updating to this diary. 
I washed the pots, stripped and got settled to watch some DVD from Keeping Up Appearances, with Hyacinth and Richard. 
Off to visit the Porcelain Throne. Where I managed, with great ease and aplomb, to stub the toe again, on the helpful WC seat-riser metal legs!
Ah, well, luckily, I was all right, fine, fighting fit, robust, durable, bursting with health, hale and hearty, in excellent shape and in a 
Back to the kitchen, to try and make a brew safely this time. 
I couldn’t get back to sleep, feeling such a fool again.