00:00hrs: I’d just got the Saturday blog done and posted off when midnight arrived.
Sleep has been unavailable, none-existent all night. But now, after setting up this template, I will try again, I need some rest. Why I could not get off earlier is a mystery. Maybe the sudden hot weather, or the day I had yesterday? Everything that happened reminded me of my bad fortunes and luck. I was grumpy with myself and got annoyed and irritable most of the time. Carping in the brain, moaning, cantankerously belly-aching, whining on, and wingeing and ended up boring myself!
Well, at least I got things shut down, and settled my corpulent, boing-boinging bellied body into the second-hand, £300, c1968, puckeringly-beige-coloured recliner, without any injuries.
I’d half-hoped to get off to kip sharpishly, but no. I turned the TV on, that often helps me fall asleep. Especially if some programme comes on, that I want to watch. But insomnia prevailed. I just lay there trying to stop the thought-storming, for ages, hours!
05:15hrs: I bestirred, the main expergefactor being the need for a wee-wee. Out of the recliner, and to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) SWOT (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Tinged), mode. Took the container with me to be cleaned and sanitised. An out-of-the-blue need for the Porcelain Throne was tended to, and a flipping good job I was in the wetroom at the time. Else I never would have made it in time to the Throne! Phew!
Not messy, or gooey, but keenly-painful (they all are nowadays!)
Disappointingly, as I opened the kitchen window, I realised by the wonderful petrichor, I’d missed the rain. The ground outside was not soaking wet, so it must have been a short shower of sorts. But it left a beautiful whiff in the air! A bit colder this morning too.
Made a brew, medications taken, and after another quick wee-wee, the sphygmomanometerisationing commenced. Sys was back up a smidge, and the thermometer read 32.9°c (91.2°f) which is, I think, healthier than it’s been for a while. That is if I remembered the way to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Ended up using Google) My arithmophobia doesn’t help. Nor the discovered too late to counter it, dyscalculia. Sad, innit? But, I had to laugh when they told me about it, it brought to mind Dracula! Hehehe!
For some unknown reason, typing this, reminded of the Dr in the cardiac unit, in the City Hospital. I know I had been given some pre-transplant drugs, but it seems soundly entrenched in my memory – I hope it’s true and not a dream I’d had. A Mr someone or other was going to observe the procedure.
The surgeon came to the bed and told me about this Consultant who was on his way to see me. “We are holding back your other pre-op meds, in case he wishes to speak with you!” “I’ll be back with him later, Mr Chaplin”. I mentioned my name was Chambers. Minutes later, Dr Khandowa introduce me to the Consultant as Mr Chamberlain! I recall thinking: “Gawd-blimey, and he’ll be replacing my ticker in an hour!” Hahaha! He did a good job though.
The assistant who put the metal strips through the ribcage to reseal it afterwards, whoever he was, had put them in, as the nurses said when they came to take them out days later ‘Tighter than we have ever seen them done before! I had never had pain like it before, even when I got shot. The nurse was sat on my legs heaving and puffing to pull the metal strips out. One nurse kept spraying liquid Morphine in my mouth throughout the job. Through it all, I have a distinct, pleasurable occasion though… But of course, once the metal tubing was removed, the nurse had to get off of me and the bed! Shame!
I waffled there again, I beg your pardon.
Then, after one more wee-wee, of a different calibre this one. A SWAT, (Sprinkly-Weak-Apricot-Tinged) configuration. I then made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi, and went on CorelDraw and Paint to make up some urgently–needed graphics for later use.
But plans were again cocked-up. No doubt prompted by the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
At least this time, it only lasted for a few minutes, then came back on of its own accord.
Started again on the graphicalisationing. Three hours later, I was feeling real-weary, and not got o very well with the graphic making. For one, not from the ailments, just from the tired worn-outness. I must get some sleep in, this lack of sleeping is getting farcical. Just to point out one problem its causing; as I wrote ‘farcical’, I thought of a more suitable word, then cleared farcical from the blog, and forgot what the word was I was going to replace it with! So, I put ‘Farcical back in. I down know whether to laugh or cry! Yes, I do! Hahaha!
I rang Sister Hane to ask about Pete, and blow me he was back at home again! He’s to go back in for the biopsy tomorrow. The chap in the ward with him is having chemo and told Pete of the problems with it. I lost the signal while talking. I rang back on the landline, but it doesn’t-half cost to call mobiles on it. Despite all the Up-in-the-Airness of things with the hospital, Pete sounded okay and accepting of things until he gets the job done, and analysis later. His spirits seem reasonably high. Good for him. I’ll have a look at the City Hospital with the binoculars tomorrow, see if I can see him. Hehe! Jane and Pete told me I could go out from tomorrow. But I won’t go without a mask. I’ll check the Government statement later.
A few minutes late, the door chimes rang out the ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ tune. It was Josie, to let me know she was going out with her Nephew, to celebrate his birthday. I wished her all the bestest, but I felt a little concerned she was going out, so soon.
The Nikon camera battery was flat, so I got the Canon to take a photo of the Puff-Puff clouds, and that was flat, in fact, it was dead! I cunningly got out the old Lumix, thinking it might have enough power left in its battery. I didn’t. So, I’ve now got all three on charging. And if I want to watch telly later, the computer will have to come off. I’m such a lucky-bugger. Hair-brained, too!
I got the nosh prepared. I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it. With virtually no sleep for such a long time, I feel confident of dropping off. But, hopefully, not before I want to. Worra life, innit! Into the kitchen to take the meds and prepare the meal.
I remembered about looking at the latest can-do again things Jane mention. So I got the computer back on for a look:
Vulnerable people in England and Wales advised to stay home since the coronavirus lockdown began will be able to go outdoors again from Monday. This change means people will be able to go out with members of their household. Those living alone can meet with someone from another household while maintaining social distancing. Support for shielders, such as food and medicine deliveries, will continue.
Those shielding should not go out to work, to shop or visit friends in their homes. Around 2.5 million UK people were advised to stay at home as lockdown began because they were identified as being at particularly high risk of needing hospital treatment for coronavirus symptoms. Most were notified by their GP. Thelist of people who should be shielding includes, Clinically extremely vulnerable people may include the people listed below, though disease severity, history or treatment levels will also affect who is in this group.
Solid organ transplant recipients. (Ah, I’m in here!)
People with specific cancers:
people with cancer who are undergoing active chemotherapy. (Nope not me!)
people with lung cancer who are undergoing radical radiotherapy. (Nope not me!)
people with cancers of the blood or bone marrow such as leukaemia, lymphoma or myeloma who are at any stage of treatment. (Nope not me!)
people having immunotherapy or other continuing antibody treatments for cancer. (Nope not me!)
people having other targeted cancer treatments which can affect the immune system, such as protein kinase inhibitors or PARP inhibitors (Nope not me!)
people who have had bone marrow or stem cell transplants in the last 6 months, or who are still taking immunosuppression drugs (Nope not me!)
People with severe respiratory conditions including all cystic fibrosis, severe asthma and severe chronic obstructive pulmonary (COPD). (Ah, I’m in here!)
People with rare diseases that significantly increase the risk of infections (such as severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID), homozygous sickle cell). (Nope not me!)
People on immunosuppression therapies sufficient to significantly increase the risk of infection. (No idea what this means!)
Women who are pregnant with significant heart disease, congenital or acquired. (Nope not me!)
People in this group should have been contacted to tell them they are clinically extremely vulnerable.
Some scientists have expressed concerns about England’s easing of lockdown rules while infection rates remain at around 8,000 per day according to the Office for National Statistics. “Many of us would prefer to see the incidence down to lower levels before we relax measures,” said Professor John Edmunds, from the London School of Tropical Hygiene and Medicine and one of the government’s top advisors. “Covid-19 is still spreading too fast to lift lockdown in England,” tweeted Jeremy Farrar, director of the Wellcome Trust.
It’s all confusing to me!
Back to gerrin’ some nosh prepared and eaten. The five-beans in vinegarette were pretty tasteless and bland, despite my adding Hickory and Balsamic vinegar while heating them up. Most disappointing, because it said they were in vinegar, I felt certain they would be delicious and bought four cans! Huh! Three to get rid off.
As for the other stuff, they were all okay. The seedless grapes, this time from Egypt, were a lot less sweet than the Indian ones, but this was alright with me. The sourdough muffins were well Marmited and went well with everything else. I soon satiated my hunger, cleaned the pots, thought about having a shave, but felt so tired I rejected the idea. (Which will probably mean more bleeding when I have to shave so much stubble off in the morning, Tsk!)
I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, and events seemed to have been lost into the ether. I can remember nothing else, until waking in the morning? And, I got about 6½ hours kip in!
02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed!
Getting my unhealthy, aged, gargantuan oversized-stomached decrepit, body from the recliner and onto my feet, was no easy matter this morning. But apart from Arthur Itis’s knees, the overgrown toenails, the ankle ulcer, the leg ulcer, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Anne Gyna, there was little bothering. Hehehe!
I limped over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and painfully proceeded with passing a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee! It still confuses me, how overnight, I cannot remember struggling out of the recliner at all, let alone hobbling over to the bucket or and using it, but it was half-filled? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
As I entered the kitchen, I thought I’d photograph the view of the new, unwanted, thick-framed, unliked, letting-rain-in, designed by a nasty, foul, cruel photographers-hating designer. That has been deliberately modelled so that no handicapped or elderly camera-user can take a photograph of Chestnut Walk below, without risking life and limb to climb the stepladder to see what he is shooting. Inevitably causing injury, upsetting Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Dizzy Dennis, or Back Pain Brenda. Toe-stubbing and falling off of the ladder is something that will no doubt please the architect or whatever Satanistic nerd, who planned the layout. But it doesn’t bother me! I fear a niggly-period just might be coming on, sorry.
Photographed Today!
I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me!
On my return, I found it just like it is now (Only whiter). WArden Dean called them for me to explain, and I got a booking for a call four-weeks later. A man arrived, agreed it was terrible and needed doing, especially as the foam had covered the electric socket and gone rock-hard. ‘I’ll get it booked in for you’. ‘Thanks, mate’. ‘No problem!’ But it doesn’t bother me!
All this was before I got the ankle and leg ulcers. Then got diagnosed with the Peripheral Neuropathy, (dying nerve-ends). Had to use the walking stick and/or the walker-guide. But it doesn’t bother me!
Then they rushed me into the hospital when I collapsed in the recliner, nothing found wrong? Then weeks later, I had the stroke! Spent six weeks in the stroke ward, then another four in a care home. Got back here, the right ankle giving way, dropping stuff, walking into things, collapsing with dizzies and Anne Gyna was confirmed as a new ailment for me. Then diagnosed as diabetic. But it doesn’t bother me!
The plastic cover still drops off now and then. The socket flashes with static. But no rush, I’ll be a goner soon, then it will be easier for them to mend things when I’m not in the way. ready for the next tenant. But it doesn’t bother me!
And now, five years later, I’ve given up all hope of getting an appointment to get the kitchen made-safe and cleaned up, and I am in no state to do it myself. But it doesn’t bother me!
Touch of self-pity and frustration crept in there big time, sorry again!
Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me!
Got Computer Cameron on, and made a needed graphic. Then started on updating the Friday blog. Thins went reasonable well, ailment-wise!
Got it completed and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Pinterested a while. Had a long, but enjoyable bash on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking’s. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Then, off to get the ablutions done.
Farcicalisation comes to mind. It was to be just a stand-up job, else I might miss the Iceland delivery (A farce in itself, tell you about further on) and it was too early to use the shower anyway. But as you will see, things didn’t go according to plan!
The first thing, I found, was that I needed the Porcelain Throne to be utilised! Boy, had Constipation Konrad made a comeback! Agano would not be too a severe word to describe what I went through, or rather, what went through me! Hahaha! I thought it was going to be one of those grinding marathon sessions again, I got the crossword book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me!
Silver-Lining Search Result: At least if I could rush the cleaning up, I could still have time to sort the black backs to the chute before the Iceland van arrived. The feet didn’t look too bad, but the discomfort was!
The gums were bleeding, I got a bit too enthusiastic in my rushing the brushing. Tsk! The dropsies weren’t too bad, mind. The razors had a few flying off trips. The three shaving cuts were spread about. When I tried to cut the hairs behind the ear lobes, one nick on each side, and when I caught one, yes, caught one razor, as it shot out of my other hand, I sliced a tiny bit of of my finger end. Damned bad luck at the end, I dried, deodoranted and dressed, and Dizzy Dennis paid me a call, as I was going through the door, clouting my right shoulder on the frame.
Now, this has kicked Shuddering Shoulder Shirley into action! Which is currently making typing a bit of a task. But it doesn’t bother me! I’m fed-up listening to myself moaning. A closer look at the toes and feet in the front room showed that the ulcer had died down a lot, far less inflamed. The nails need attention, I must ask Deana if she can ring the clinic for me on Monday.
I got the waste bags made up, and took the three to the waste chute on the walker-guide trolley. Both lifts are now working as well. Although not in use.
Back to Cameron, and on WordPressing. Half-an-hour or so later, the Intercom rang. I limped to the panel, and it was not working! I got the feeling, that if I was to snuff-it soon, the other tenants might hold a long-distance party… I feel sure my abysmal luck is spreading throughout the fabric of the building! What next is going to break-down?
It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him.
Bargain in the Tango orange juice, box of 24!
The freezer and fridge were chockablock now! I got some of the Jersey Royal new potatoes in the slow-cooker, added some Hickory flavouring.
Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! Lovely-jubbly! No taste to it mind, but it was cold and fizzy, highly acceptable! If this heat stays with us, I can’t see these lollies lasting long. Hehe!
The thermometer gave a reading of 34c indoors. I’m sure it must have been hotter outside. I took what was left of the sucker with me out into the balcony, which I thought was a good idea, to open a window and take some shots of the divine weather…
I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle!
I put my hands out in front of me to lessen the fast-arriving im[act with the wooden slated running boards… the iced lollipop disappeared the slats, never to be seen again! I instinctively tried to grab between the gaps, and I got a splinter in the same finger I’d sliced with the razor earlier… But it didn’t bother me!
Then, the Herculean task of getting back up again, which was handicapped by my trousers falling down! You couldn’t make it up! I was more bothered about anyone seeing me in this pickle than the pains I was in! Gluglegnatsworth!
Stil on my aching stinging knees, I crawled out of view back into the flat. What are the odds of someone seeing this littlecontretemps from another balcony? I cringed at the thought! But it doesn’t bother me!
I got myself sorted out. Getting back on my feet awkwardly, and banging the right knee and stubbing a toe! Cribblebogangonies! But it didn’t bother me!
It seemed that the braces had become unclipped during the tumble. I bravely tried to look nonchalant, and got the camera and wandered (Carefully!), back out to the balcony. I got the camera and scanned all the balcony’s in view, but didn’t see anyone in their p[od. (Fingers crossed) I took some shots of the folks below.
I must have caught the selector-wheel, cause one came out a different size and shape than the other? This dog above on the left is the one I names ‘Yappy’. His bark could be heard by me, all the way up here on the 12th-floor, and without my hearing aids in! I took a picture of the housing straight ahead. It looked almost like a painting? But the sunshine of strong in reality, but not in the resulting photo?
I took a photo of the puff clouds, and wallowed in the sunshine, leaning against the sharp edges on the balcony windows, and began to feel someone settled, almost at peace with the world. The warmth, the lack of breeze, and sounds of dogs and kids, but no vehicles… It felt so good to just relax…
Of course, the landline burst into sounds and flashes! No blooming rest for the wicked! I got back in, still moving wearily, and it was Sister Jane on the line. They (The Hospital) were keeping Pete in, ready for another biopsy by a specialist on Tuesday I think she said.
He’s got a television supplied and a laptop, they bring him newspapers when he wants one, has a choice of meals and is in a sideward with just two beds! But, it doesn’t bother me! In the stroke ward, it was packed solid with patients, some on trolleys, often I didn’t get a meal at all, the night staff always came and opened the window wide, which was right next to my bed, and they threw me out three weeks too early cause they needed the bed for an emergency. The ambulance staff threw me in a wheelchair, and left some of my stuff behind, but took some belonging to the chap in the next bed with me! I got put in a care home, full of patients who were not fully with it. Even there, one day, I didn’t get fed! Attempted stabbing, fights, I had to make a witness statement to the police… But it didn’t bother me! I’m not jealous, oh, no!
Jesting aside, (Not that the above incidents are not genuine!) I bet poor old Pete is bored rigid in hospital. His arm is deflating, so he even has no pains to distract. He’s always been an active bloke and is not too keen on medical institutions. I wonder if I dare nip out to see him? No, I’d better not. Knowing my luck the trousers would drop down in the sideward. Hahaha!
Nosh time. Bit of a heavy load, but I ate it all up. Not that it was very good, though. The garden peas were alright. Taste Rating: 5/10.
Got the pots pans and me washed up.
I got down earlier than ever, to watch some TV, with the aim of nodding off and getting caught up with some sleep.
Fat Chance! The ticker was racing away, the Thought Storms attacked, and after a few hours of failing to get to sleep, I couldn’t even manage any nod-off moments, plenty of rising for a wee-wee episode, mind. I decided to get back up and get Computer Cameron going to update this blog. And of course, escape the thought-storms.
Well, pickle my walnuts! My luck-status was confirmed!
So many things have bought injustices, jealousies and failures on my behalf today, I’m sick of my own whinging! All the lights were out on the Virgin box. I went through the usual procedures; pressed the reset button – Nope! Turned of the computer and rebooted – Nope! Turned off the power to everything, restarted computer and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box, Nope! Things looked bleak!
I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.
Still no Liberty-Global Virgin Media, but the box was actually now flashing two lights!
I went on to CorelDraw, and made up a Coronavirus Humour Graphic. This took about an hour to get done. Hello, three lights on Liberty-Global Virgin Media box now, things are looking up! I saved the graphic to the hard drive for later use and had another wee-wee (The orange tint was back).
Aha, four of the five Liberty-Global Virgin Media lights on now. So, I tried again to access the web… Great! I’m in! Slow going, but still!
I found the latest figures for Nottingham. These facts were being published regularly, but now they are hidden in sub-texts and different sections. Likely a Government ploy, as the figures are still rising overall, but now, in Nottingham anyway, more deaths in care homes, more than in Hospitals for the first time. Huh, I’m a cheer-chappie today, ain’t I?
Got on with the updating of this blog again. Then went back on CorelDraw to see if I could find inspiration for more graphics to use.
Harrumph! I give up trying to sleep cause I just can’t do it, and now I find myself falling asleep at the computer!
I went on Facebooking for a while.
I’d better get this finished off, checked and posted.
03:10hrs: I woke to want a wee-wee, and wrangled my woefully wobbly bellied mass, out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner.
The ankle felt a bit delicate, so I made my way cautiously to the wet room, with the four-pronged walking stick and camera accompanying for me.
The feet were hurting with every step, or shuffle I should say. This first wee-wee was of the SFRTFGC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Grey-Cloudy) type.
To the kitchen, the light glowed on my plump but skinny limbed imitation-body.
I wondered what I might have been doing during the night.
Although it wasn’t, it looked like sweat? I think I’d had a decent, dream and a nocturnal-meaning-free sleep? In fact, it was an adequate rest of over five-hours! That in itself was something of a most-welcome miracle.
I then noticed the arms had gained a bit of colour back over yesternight, as well? But they soon paled again later.
I got the China mug of Thompsons Punjana tea made and sphygmomanometerised myself. The Sys had crept back up a smidge.
Took the medications, olive oiled the ear-holes, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees. And the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, back to the wet room.
Oh, what a messy, bloody evacuation. The cleaning up took longer than movement did. That was a change, still a hurtful one, though.
Collected the mug of tea, and got the computer going. Did some graphics first, so I could start the temp[late for tomorrow later, I hope. Then on with the updating of the Friday post, hello, I’m losing it again. I meant the Thursday post. This took a few hours to get done, but it looked okay in the end.
Got an email from Jenny, asking if would like her to order some lemon mousse and lemon yoghourt on her Asda order for me. She’s so kind to me, and others for that matter. I asked for some lemon bleach, mousse and yoghourts! Bless her. ♥
I sent the blog off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Then went onto the WordPress Reader section. Some phenomenal photographs had been posted. Makes sad, as to how my skills are being drained. By Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerves dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. But I’m still doing them, it’s just harder and takes much longer. With many shots having to be taken to get a decent one work. Then, of course, time spent deleting the crap efforts to save memory. Not complaining, just explaining. Well, not a lot anyway. Haha!
Send some pics to Pinterest, then spent a happy time on Facebooking. A lot of time!
Put Computer Cameron in sleep mode, and got the ablutions tackled. And things went wellish again. Well, not the dropsies, they were regular, repetitive, and annoying. But, no toe-stubbing, no clearing the top of the floor cabinet, no dropping the showerhead, and no tooth-cleaning bleeding.
There were a couple of shaving nicks. And one of the dropsies (the after-shave bottle) I banged the back of my hand as I made a grab to stop the bottle going down and hitting myself on the foot or toes! But it was worth it to avoid that.
A little price to pay.
Now, I was feeling a little upbeat. But with my record, I resisted adopting a smug-mode. I went to make a brew, and took a photo of the glorious view from the new kitchen window, the thick-framed, light & view-blocking, designed my photographer-hating architects, window!
Then I had an idea (It has been known before, although rare), for a funny ode about life and how I felt at the moment. So, I started creating it in CorelDraw with graphics. Four hours later, I got it finished and posted off. Here’s the link if you haven’t seen it yet folks:
I made another brew of Glengettie and thought to myself, I’ll nip down to the mobile shop, and get some fresh tomatoes, disinfectant and bread when it comes at twelve… Noticed the clock. And it was 17:00hrs! Granglesknackersbuggerit! I got carried away with the funny ode, didn’t I? I hope it goes down well!
Had a funny thought when I was taking these bench shots, with all the bird poo, will we now get bird flu?
Sunshine seekers, passing on virus on the bench
Sunshine seekers, passing on virus on the bench
Sunshine seekers, passing on virus on the bench
So, I got the sarnies made up, added some onions, gherkins, too many tomatoes (getting short on em now, I’ll ration them, Haha!) bread-thins sarnies with Sopocka, Marmite cheese and rice cakes. Taste: 7.2/10
Soon gobbled it all up.
My last photo was taken, as I did the washing up, and then settled in search of some sleep.
I watched a replay of the Euro Cup Final twixt Germany and the Czech Republic. With so many nod-offs. I woke, and the adverts were on, took a shot of the high sun, and back down in the recliner.
02:15hrs: Having had a wee-wee-less sleep, I returned to the land of the imitational-living, in need of one. The toes, ankles and feet were not enamoured with my getting my overly stomach-burdened body almost perpendicular. Despite the urgent need to get to the wet room, I was very cautious and careful in getting the walking stick, and my route to the throne room. For fear of the ankle going over again.
Which resulted in an embarrassing leakage en route. Saved by having the PPs on, from a severe ‘wetting of the wet room’, the wee-wee, was of a cloudy and pale SS (Short-Sharp) variety. Proper washing of specific areas, change of PPs, and off to the kitchen. (No indications of the heavy-duty Porcelain Throne being needed)
I got the tablets out, made a mug of Thomsons Punjana tea, then the carefully done job of sphygmomanometerisationing. The dang sys was a tad high again, but it’s been worse. The pulse was higher, but I think within range. The thermometer showed ‘Low’. Took the medications, leaving the other not eatable medical tasks until I did the ablutions, later on. Then back for another wee-wee, the same type, but a little longer lasting.
Back to the kitchen, gathered and sorted the black bin bags, and tied them up ready to go to the chute. Then, back for another wee-wee. Oh, dearie me!
I got the computer on, and the moment I started on CorelDrawing to do the thought graphic, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, soon to be joined in the ‘Let’s Annoy Inchie’ mission, by Saccades Sandra. This made progress very slow. However, I seemed to be in a rare mood of resolution not to get myself all bothered and flustered. And this was with several more wee-wee visits as well! (Yes!) I pressed on until the updating was all done for the Wednesday post. Temporary Smug Mode, with an iota of self-satisfaction, adopted!
I went on Pinterest for a while. Then the Word-Press reader, finally getting on to Facebooking. This consumed an hour and a half of my precious time. Shuddering Shirley kept having a bash at me, but it seemed for shorter sessions?
I remembered to do the priority Iceland order. It should be due
Off for another wee-wee. This one was of a different style altogether. An RPD (Reluctant-Painful-Dribbling) variety, still the pale grey colouring.
The plates of meat and ankle ulcers were less inflamed. But still, painful when hobbling.
Put Computer Connie in sleep mode, and got the ablutions started.
By gum, it went well! Unbelievably so! No gum bleeding! Only two dropsies of the soap! No toothpaste or brush dropping! No, I say, No, Shaving cuts! Amazing! Shirley and Nicodemus both in an excellent calmed down mood.
Mind you, I can’t say the same about my attempt afterwards, to try and get the ankle support strap on! That was a failed, painful attempt. A short but discountenancing involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over on the floor! Bungle-Grumplewuncks. Banged my back against the floor cabinet, and ever since, I’ve had back Back-Pain-Brenda giving me gip! On the plus side, I got back up from frequently-frequented by Inchcocks torso, wet room floor with relative ease for me.
That was because I needed yet another wee-wee! Hahaha!.
Ah, well! Silver Lining Search – Result: If Dizzy Dennis, Shirley, and Nicodemus stay the way they now, that’ll be great. I can cope with Brenda as she is. I might even regain faith!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and started to do some graphics for later use. It was slow going, but yet again, I found myself in a remarkably accepting, and submissive frame of mind? An hour and three wee-wees later (All the same style, but the colour had gone from pale grey, back to the orange of ereyesterday).
I hobbled off to make another brew, this time of Thompsons Punjana. I noticed a letter had been pushed through the door and went to nosey. I’ve mentioned the odd noises lately, drilling and knocking. Then espied that the letter referred to Winchester Court?
Back to the CorelDraw grindstone. Unfortunately, I’d not got many done and needed more of them. Grufflemoanski!
Ah, the Porcelain Throne is needed! The legs seem to be getting even more clear of the Clopidogrel inspired blobs and blotches. Not complaining, mind, just mentioning it.
There I was, one minute in my newly acquired state of grace, and unflappability, then the weariness came over me, almost in an instant! And no blood test to check the Warfarin level for three weeks, and the next one isn’t due until the 9th of June. I just can’t understand why the sudden change?
What a shame, I was just beginning to get caught up as well. Granglesknackersbuggerit!
I decided to get the skinless Robirch sausages in the oven and make some bread thins sarnies with them, and some cheese, tomatoes, whatever is in the fridge.
My innards, and, or the EQ, were telling me not to have any mash or chips, so I listened and obeyed.
The Dusty Springfield tune, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed from the doorbell. T’was the appealing ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Desk Top Dancer, and Warden, Deana. Delivering Pressies, from if I heard correctly, the Nottingham City Homes. Four tea bags, a card (below), and a naughty jam doughnut. (Which I demolished later with my meal, Hehehe!) Along with a postcard notice.
Advice on getting through the lockdown.
On the phone?: My deafness makes this awkward.
On the screen: My camera on the computer has broken.
Someone you live with?: Well, there is Marie’s gifted Koala Katie, and Patties, Scruffy. Who I do talk to every morning!
I’m a little concerned about scruffy, he keeps falling off of the bookshelves where he lives in peace with Koala Katie. Perfect imitator of me! Hahaha! Koala keeps the spare toilet roll hidden for me as well! ♥
I love them and TFZer folks who sent them for me! And from Australia and Canada, too! I really am lucky, after all! ♥
Got the nosh made up, and on the tray. I wish I’d known how nice the skinless sausages were going to be, too late to add any to the Iceland order any now. Maybe not a bad thing, I’ve plenty of other sausage-based food in the fridge.
Those Indian grown seedless grapes are so lovely too. The last of the lemon mousses, fresh orange drink, the so kindly donated naughty, I shouldn’t be eating jam doughnut, all went down well! Flavour rating: 8.9/10! Yummy!
I was still in a weary-state, so drained. But not ill or anything? Cleaned the pots, checked and double-checked the taps, lights, stove etc. and got my head down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, none-working, rickety recliner.
When I got settled and the TV on, the vagueness arrived. To be followed, regretfully, by the thought-storms. I’d been free of these for a day or two, but they still gave and left me with fears, guilt, self-worthlessness and depression.
They also lasted far too long, and sleep didn’t come for hours. Grombognangles!
02:00hrs: I woke in a confused state of mind, even had to concentrate on recalling where I was and what day was dawning! But the overpowering clinomania caused me to nod-off back to sleep before anything logical or formative clarified in the brain. In the few moments that I was half-awake, the thought that today was going to bring forth thaumaturgy, lodge in my mind. No doubt put there by my EQ.
05:25hrs: That was a long nod-off! Guilt reigned, influencing my line of thought. How had I slept for so long? Never been known before! I gathered some imitation determination and wanting a wee-wee, I rose from the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured recliner, up onto my feet…
The damned ankle gave way, and I did a backwards tumble back into the recliner again!
This caused me to suffer a series of problems and injuries. A most unsatisfactory start-to-the-day! My already limited confidence and get-up-and-go had gone. Grangleknackerworthyness!
On my way down, I hit my elbow on the chair arm, knocked stuff off of the Ottoman, and ended up plonking down so hard, I felt the damp wetness sensation, of what proved to be Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harolds Haemorrhoids both bleeding! Painfully! Not to mention the agony from the ankle!
The next hour or so was not very pleasant, and most uncomfortable and taxing. The hobble to the wet room for the wee-wee and cleansing and medicating of the exsanguinating body parts. The wee-wee was an embarrassment in itself; As the blood came along with the evacuation, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters packed up, making things spray all over the place! Silver-Lining-Findings: None!
The SOCWWW (Sprinkly-Orange-Coloured-Weak-Wee-Wee), and hard to locate spots of blood, took an aeon to clean up. And most displeasingly too, as the lesion and piles were slowly filling PPs as I did the sorting out of the sprayed wet room furniture. But with a few knocks of the hands and arms. Silver-Lining-Findings: None! I got the task completed. Then the cleaning and medicating were tackled.
I tackled the worst prospective job next, the de-blooding and medicating of Little Inchies fungal lesion. Always a feared and painful task. By the time I’d done this, I really was feeling drained. Then the less harmful sorting out and medicationalisationing of Harold’s Haemorrhoids was done. Silver-Lining-Findings; I’m so glad that Jenny managed to get me some Germoloid cream with her Sainsbury’s order, phew!
On the way out of the wet room, a sudden and almost dramatic dash back in was called for. To utilise the sudden and urgent need of the Porcelain Throne was needed!
Trotsky Terence won the war this time. Messy, and back to the Khaki colour, lots of it! Painful again. Silver-Lining-Findings; It was over pretty quickly!
I hand a good scrub-up and departed again to the kitchen. The scene from the unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed, anti-photographer designed new windows, made me take a couple of shot. The sky and clouds looked terrific, I thought.
Then I espied another Inchcock Cock-up! I’d somehow forgotten all about the potatoes I’d put in the crock-pot, wait for it… 18 hours ago! Amazingly, the water had not all boiled away. So at least that meant I could retrieve the spuds and dish them, and clean the pot and cooker. Humph!
So, I got some leeks prepared and into the cleaned slow-cooker with some vegetable oxo added. Ignore the blood on the kitchen towel, twas but a tiny nick. Surprising to you I can understand, me cutting myself. (Hahaha!)
I made a brew, then did the medicationing. The hemadynamometer shockingly gave me an unprecedented Sys reading of 162! A few moments considerating, and I put this down to the morning’s Whoopsies, Accifauxpas Tumble, and panic moments, being the cause. If I remember, I’ll take it again later on. I think the other readings were okay. The thermometer didn’t show a count again, it just indicated as ‘Low’.
I consumed the medications and took the brew with me to the computer. Even sat down in the swivel chair, the ankle, toes and feet let me know that they were there, and humming. Talking of humming, the all-around dreaded ‘Hum’ didn’t seem so intrusive this morning. Yee-ha!
While doing the updating of the Tuesday blog, Grammarly played up – it kept changing to English USA. This cost me a lot of time and frustration. I kept resetting in settings, but it wasn’t having it. So I tried to get on the help Grammarly Help page. But it seems they no longer, or it had moved, had a link desk, just a page full of previous problems suffered by other idiots who use WordPress and Grammarly. It eventually returned to English UK of its own accord? I can do without this bother, you know!
I went on the G-mail and had a look at the latest Coronavirus figures on the web. But I think they were out of date, they were the same as yesterday?
I pressed on with the updating, and Shoulder Shuddering Shirley and Shaking Shaun had a go at me. How surprising!
I had to do some graphics on CorelDraw, which I enjoy doing, even when they are urgently needed.
Got them done, and went to check on the leeks and make another brew of Thompsons Punjana. I’ll add a tin of garden peas to them later on. Have the boil-in-the-bag beef, and a can of potatoes with them, I thought. So added a container of spuds then. A splash of vinegar was added to the pot.
Back to the beloved computer, and finished the updating and sent it off. Pinterested, a few snaps, emailed the link off and spent a long time on Facebooking. Went on the WordPress reader, some great stuff on there today.
Then went to make yet another brew, Glengettie Gold this time. I was pleased, but slightly confused that the wee-weeing had stopped altogether?
I started today’s blog going, at last!
Sister Jane rang on the mobile, but it was challenging making out what she was saying. It’s the signal in West Bridgford that needs upgrading! Bless her, she rang me back on the landline, that was much easier to hear, not perfect, mind. Zyrophobia-suffering hubby, Pete, was in the hospital, having even more tests done on his mystery to the medical world, problem. His arm has now swollen to ridiculous proportions, he is like a real-life
Popeye on one side! She’s worried naturally, bless her cotton socks. I am, too. But all we can do is wait until he gets home later, with fingers crossed.
I rang Jane back a bit later, to try and take her mind off of her worries. She was in better form. Telling me, I am not eating the right things. Haha! Pete had called her from the hospital, just had his Steak and Ale NHS lunch. The chinwag went on, changing from one subject to another.
I got a visit from Stuttering Stephanie, and Shaking Shaun, which made me spill the tea I was making, Jane told me not to do things when I was on the phone. The end came when I had a mammoth of an Involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance and had to cut short the conversation. Gawd I was in a right state! ♫ Shaking all over! ♫ Comes to mind. Haha!
I got the mobile back on charge, and just sat down for a few minutes – which proved to be another mistake. Getting back and Saccades-Sandra nearly had me back down again. Then the ankle, feet and toes joined Dizzy Dennis in hassling me. I sat on a high chair then, to continue the computerisationing. I need to get some more graphics done.
So, not full of confidence, I got onto CorelDrawing. Slow going with the ailments ganging up on me.
I got the nosh sorted out and served up. The vegetables, fresh leeks and canned garden peas were perfect! The beef slices tasteless, the potatoes alright, the tomatoes nice, and the lemon mousse good. The extra gravy I made, was not so good, too bland, don’t know how I went wrong. Taste: 7.5/10, and that was just because the veg was delicious.
Washed the dishes, a rinse and the teggies done (Toothache Tim, was threatening). I nodded off with much less bother, but Shoulder Shuddering Sheila kept waking me up, and her shakings, caught the overgrown toenails a few time, which ensured I woke up more times than I fell asleep. (That can’t be right? Hahaha!)
03:55hrs: After a decent sleep (5 hours! Yes!) and not having a single interruption for a wee-wee (Good innit?), I slowly got my body assessed, and the brain joined me a few moments later, with the realisation that I needed a wee now, urgently! So, the usual persnickety struggle getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not working, rickety-recliner was performed (With a lot less bother and pain than usual, too. Oh, yes!), and fumbled my way to the wet room.
This was a riskier business than expected. Walking was more challenging than it had been for many a month, if fact, since the stroke. The right ankle was weak when walking, and I was nervous about is giving way again, like it did yesterday. I took the ankle strap with me, to have a go at fitting it. No chance, too complicated for me, and overly painful manipulating it. Grumbleshaggles! Still, the SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-wee) went well enough.
The legs were suffering from fluid retention again. The toes and soles of the feet were terribly-wicked stinging!
I carefully made my way to the kitchen, made a brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea. And did the health checks and took the morning medications.
The sys was 144, Dia 69, Pulse 87, and temp 31.8°c (89.2f). That looks better to me. I took an extra painkiller, the feet, right ankle, and toes are a bit much to contend with at the moment! Glory be and praise the Lord, at least Arthur Itis’s knees were a lot easier today. Can’t win ’em all! ♫ Look on the bright side of life, bum-bum ♫ Hehehe!
I got on the computer and checked the Morrison email. Substituted items and missing ones too! The only ones that bothered me were the Morrison’s Nasal Hygiene Spray, Leicester cheese, and Potato fritters not being available. None of them was obtainable on the last order, either.
Still, I mustn’t grumble too much. (Oh, I don’t know though) Hahaha!
I got yesterday’s, post updated, and email links sent off. Sent some photos to Pinterest. Visited the WordPress Reader section. And made some comments. Then I had a marathon session on TFZer Facebooking. But not as long as I would have liked to have. The template for today’s blog needed doing, and the ablutions had to be done, in time for the Morrison order arriving. So, off to the wet room for a stand-up bath session.
I tried the ankle-support-strap fitting again. Ha! Bogglesmania and Pain-Agony-Striking!
I took it off!
It’d been so long since I needed to wear it, I could not remember how it should go on! No way could I master it. Then, of course, I found it was too painful to wear anyway! Yer knows, being such a lucky bugger like wot I am, tends to make one feel guilty. (sic).
I also noticed how the right leg was much thicker than the left one. (It never rains, but it pours, one thing after another, out of the frying pan, into the fire, no day is my day, life on a razor edge, life going through the wringer, and A Broggleknockersworther’s life for me!
So, in agony after the hour’s worth of frustration and failure get the support-straps to fit, then finding it was too painful to wear, then going through more suffering in taking it off. And stubbing my poor old overgrown nailed toes against the edge of the wet room door as I exited! I was approaching the darkness again!
Light at the End of the Tunnel Search Result: Still, Yesterday’s vein explosions in the right leg had died down considerably! And Herbert was back at the knocking and drilling building his models.
It always cheers me up to know that.
Eventually, I got started on with my ablutions. All went remarkably well. No teeth or gum bleeding! Only one shaving nick. The dropsies were only about six. All in all, a change of fortunes mayhaps? (No, you’re right!)
I got some potatoes in the slow cooker for later on.
Minutes later, the intercom rang and lit up. It was Morrison’s deliveryman arriving. I pressed him access, and he was soon up with me.
As he placed the bags through the door for me, I noticed that the foils baking trays had been crushed up! I pointed this out to the gentleman. He grabbed than and reshaped the crudely, saying, “There you are, they’ll do!” I pointed out, “No, they won’t!” He replied: “I can take um back if yer really wants me to!” – Me: “I do!”. Him: “Alright, then!” Off he trotted, and I began to take the bags in ones and twos to the kitchen. There was a lot of them.
As I went back for the last carrier, I heard a tapping on the door. Had I not been where I was, I doubt if I would have known about it. It was the young man from Morrisons returning, he had found a can of antiperspirant in the box and had come back to give it to me. Kind of him that! Thanks. After over an hour, I’d got the foods put away.
The feet were stinging something rotten, so I took off the slippers.
I espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk, down in the bottom field below the tree copse. The little white and black dog had one hell of a loud bark on him!
I checked the tissues properly, and they seemed okay. So. I loaded the walker-guide-trolley up, ready to use. Then I made a phone call to inform Jenny that I would be down soon to drop off the tissues.
Jenny was concerned with paying for the tissues, and said she’d leave the money in an envelope.
I made sure that the chocolate treat and mini bottle of wine were in the bag, and was about to set off, and I had to divert to the Porcelain Throne.
It turned out to be a similar session to what yesterday mornings were. A Constipation Konrad controlled evacuation! Hehe! Painfully suffered and messy with it!
The hobbling was painful in the extreme, but okay with the use of the guide. Getting out through the door with the three-wheeler had to be done with care. I avoided any knocks and toe-stubbing.
Smug-Mode Temporarily Adopted!
When I got to the elevators, only one was working. So, it was a while before it arrived.
As I got out on Jenny’s floor, the lobby looked like it had been being worked on?
I got in the flat’s lobby, collected the envelope Jenny’d left for me, and put the bag near the door and rang their bell, then back to the lift lobby.
It appeared that they had had a water leak of some sort repaired? Just being nosey. Haha!
It took a long time for the lift to get to me, but I was in no particular rush.
I entered the cage and pressed the 12th-floor button. I went into a sort of vague haze, and when the doors opened, I was on the ground floor! A few people were waiting to get in, and I apologised, telling them I was on my way up, and it came down. Muttering my apologies and feeling a fool! I do not think I am a very popular person now! I had a red face and was a bit nervous in case the lift did something else unexpected. Humph!
I thought about it on the way up home. Perhaps with the one lift only working, this had thrown a spanner in the works to the other elevator workings?
Back in the flat, I made another a mug of Glengettie tea. The humming from the toes, ankle, and right leg was not getting any easier. I nearly took another Codeine 30g but managed to stop myself.
At long last, I got around to creating the template for this blog, made one for tomorrow as well. This cost me a lot of time, and I hadn’t started on this one yet!
The mobile phone chirped into life, it was my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete. He was in the car after taking Sister Jane to the shops. He’s going through some worry with his health at the moment. We had a natter, and I was giving him the benefit of my medicalisational knowledge (Hehe!) We lost the signal. I put this down the West Bridgford, a previously posh area of Nottingham, now being snided out with drug pushers ‘cuckooing‘ where they would be least expected too, and illegal immigrants being housed in HMO’s by the swine who control them, again in an area that the police would think was safe. Anyway, this was causing an overload on the Mobile Phone antennas and why Jane & Pete are struggling to use their mobiles? Just thought I’d mention it.
Pete rang me back on the landline. Much better! We had a good chinwag and talked of some serious stuff. But still managed a laugh or two.
I got on with this post, at last. Hours passed, ever correcting mistakes.
I nipped into the kitchen and took these three snaps of the scenic view.
I got some hot dog sausages in the saucepan. I decided I can’t go on with the computing, Saccades Sandra kicking off now. (Well, it’s only fair and sociable to share the pain and discomfort amongst the ailments. Hehehe!)
So, I decided to get some nosh. Which were home-made hot dogs, and mini-tomatoes. With a lemon flavoured mousse. The photo I took of it, has disappeared into the ether… Well, alright, I admit it, I’d not put the SD card into the Nikon! Twittleworthy-Idiot!
I also forgot to take the evening medications.
Amazingly, once settled down, I was soon off into the land-of-nod… Zzzz!
Today’s TFZer: Prima Ballerina & Cat Walk Model, Lillie!
01:30hrs: Well, I ought to be used to my last few vivifications being out of the ordinary, for various reasons. This morning was two-fold. Starting with the usual urgent need for a wee-wee, then getting free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not working, cringingly beige-coloured, rusty, rickety recliner and without any Whoopsies or loss of balance! Got the stick and took a wee-wee in the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The thing that shook me was it being an almost back to the standard style, a short, sharp painful evacuation, and the colour, a sort of battleship grey!
I swear I saw a twinge of luminescence in the bucket! I tried to recall the things I had eaten that might have caused this transmutation. The only thing I could think of summat I’d never eaten before and might be the cause, was the Sausage Patties? Hey-ho, I’ll see how it goes, and flows, later. Never a dull moment, (or any rest) for poor old Inchie!
I took the bucket with me to the wet room and got it sanitised and cleaned, ready for tonight’s episode of: ‘Inchcock and his variable, lethal to moderate, Wee-wees!’ Should I snuff it overnight, would someone please have the vet check pon what killed me. Hahaha!
Constipation Conrad fooled me again as I was leaving the room, and I nipped back in and onto the Throne post-haste! But, it was a false alarm. Everything as solid as a rock again!
However, I did spot the right leg, had the spider and varicose veins bursting out all over this morning! They were even writing notes for me. A distinctive ‘S’, a ‘W’ and a ‘V’ were of interest.
Blimey, they looked a right mess this morning, well, the right leg did. More fluid-filled as well, I reckon. Hehe!
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Later in the morning, I had a look at the only leaflet the hospital gave me regarding the vein problems. This led me to investigate on the internet. Peripheral Neuropathy (Got-it!), increases the chance of Thrombophlebitis (Got-it!), Deep vein Arterial Thrombosis (Got-it!), Spider veins (Got-’em), Superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis) (Got-it!), Chronic venous insufficiency (CVI-Got-it!), Iliac, Femoral, Saphenous, Popliteal and Tibial vein problems (Got-them all!). All of which can cause Bacterial or Viral Infections (Got-it!-Little Inchy!)
This is because venous disease disrupts the normal flow of blood throughout the body, and all can lead to blood clots. Which can cut off the blood supply to nerves (Got-it!-Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters are dying), they told me that much when PN was diagnosed).
Note to Self; If you really want to depress yourself, keep looking things up on the web. If you can manage without having to assuage your natural curiosity, this is advised! Huh!
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I poddled, in a slightly disconnected, uncoordinated state of mind, to the kitchen. I did the sphygmomanometer tests done. Sys 146, Dia 67, Pulse 79, Temperature was just reading ‘Low’. Odd how this works properly occasionally, then it goes back to just giving a low or high indication, again?
I got the medications taken, then I made a brew of the supremely tasty Thompsons Punjana tea. Delicious!
Onto the computer. Got the updating done for the Sunday blog. I checked the Emails and came across this gem to cheer me up further. Hahaha!
I saw a bit of Coronova-fun graphicalisationing could be had from this photo. I set to creating the mock newspaper graphic for the top of this page. Although not funny, being English, a sense of humour is not only recommended but vital, methinks. It took me a few hours to get it something like I wanted, but I did enjoy doing it. I hope it offends nobody.
Went on Pinterest with few photos. Sent the Email links. Then on Facebooking for a couple more hours. Then made up this template to use.
I got in the wet room and started the ablutions. Did the teggies. Ah, a bit of a tale here. Could I find the toothpaste? No, I couldn’t! So, nipped into Junk-room number two, and got a tube out of the drawer. Back to the wet room, and did the teggies. Getting things ready for the shaving, I dropped the shaving foam can. It to an amazingly circuitous route and ended up behind the throne.
I used the Jenny-supplied picker-upperer to retrieve the can. And saw the lost toothpaste down there as well! So I fetched the longer picker-upper from the main room and grabbed the tube, and a disposable-razor, that was lost weeks ago, came up with it! I really must get some help and have a proper clean up in the wet room! Hahaha! How the razor got down there is a mystery, too. I took a photo of my legs. I had to doctor it with a courtesy-cover afterwards before using it in here. Only a tiny one, mind. I wanted to show that scar that came up last Monday, and has been there ever since? Wonder worrit is? Haha! The fluid retention is coming back I reckon.
The burn mark on the tummy has all but gone now.
As I was cleaning the teggies, the door chimes rang out! It was Josie bringing back yesterday’s tray, plate and cutlery. I was not in a good position to concentrate; I’d slipped on the dressing gown, and it didn’t have a belt on it.
So as I was taking the tray and things from Josie, the damned ill-timed Involuntary right-legs did a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, and the gown came open, and I dropped the tray. I’m confident I got behind the door in time. I’m basing this assumption, on the fact that Josie did not laugh at me! The gal helped me pick the things up[ and asked if I was alright, bless her. She gave me some seedless grapes, she said she felt guilty me supplying and dong the meal every Sunday. Again, I said as long as you eat it and like it, that’s good enough for me, but I can’t recall thanking her, I felt bad about that.
Back to the wet room and the dropsies. There were a lot of them today. But again I’d cheated the Sock-glide by not wearing any. No dizzies, no dropping the showerhead either, although the last of the carbolic was getting small now, and shot-off a few times. If you’ve never tried to pick up a small wet tablet of soap with the picker-upperer, its hard work! Hehehe!
I finished the ablutions eventually. And made up four small black bags and a box of recyclable stuff, and loaded the walker-trolley with them and went down to skips on the ground floor. I called at Josie’s on the way out and gave her the bottles of Fruit Shoot that are a little too sweet for me.
My plan was to sneak outside and take some photographs. Cunning eh? I got the bags down in the chute room and caught the elevator to ground zero, with the cardboard box and a bag. A woman who was waiting to get in socially distanced herself well from me. I went through the caretaker’s (Who were not there) passage and out to the bins. But the bins were not there. So I put them with other peoples waste and shut the door locked behind me, as I had a trolley-guided hobble, taking some photographs en route.
I crossed Chestnut Walk and from the car park area, I took this snap of Woodthorpe Court
I spotted a wonder of nature. Well, they are for me. Some Daisies near the workmen’s porta-cabins.
All the wind that has been knocking them about, the lack of rain (never thought I’d say that, Hehe) And still they bloom against the odds!
I limped along until I was facing the main Winwood Court entrance, and took a photo of it. The only thing missing up until now for the pictures was people.
A BMW with an exhaust pipe, it might have been a dual-fueled powered one, of course, was parked in the electric vehicle charging bay. Couldn’t see any connections linked to it.
This shot has the end of Winwood court to the left, and a rather imposing looking, Winchester Court on the right.
Again, no tellurians in view anywhere.
As I turned to hobble back the way I’d come from, the ankle gave me such a sharp-paining! I had to stop, and pretend to be casually looking at the trees and bushes! Which I ended up doing, but dare not get the camera out, just in case the ankle gave way. Although it’s been good for so long now, I’d hoped that the problems with it were over. What a fool!
I took a long time, well, it felt like it, but the hassle and weakness seemed to settle down. I was confident enough to press on again.
I stopped to take a picture of Winwood and Woodthorpe Courts. The sky was beautiful and the wind had dropped considerably since I’d left the building.
I hobbled to the far end of Chestnut Walk, and turned to take this wide shot, and guess what?
I caught two residents in the frame! At least I think they were.
Back into the Woodthorpe Court lobby, and I met Josie, as she was going to use the laundry room. We shared a word or two and a smile, and I went back up to the flat.
Got the three-wheeled trolley-guide into the corner. I just sucked at the cut knuckle that I caught on the door frame doing it. Humph!
I tried a few of the Indian seedless grapes as I made a brew, jolly-good, too!
I spent three more hours updating this blog. It was now three-hours beyond my usual head-down time.
Shattered mentally, I turned everything off and got some sarnies made for dinner. I was not going to risk cooking when I’m as tired as this.
See? See that? Common sense, from me!
Off to get the fodder… and the ankle went over again! Grigglebonkcrap! Its been weeks, no, months since I used the ankle-strap, but I’m going to need it now. Oh, dear! I might leave it until morning when I might be more up for getting it fitted.
Such a decent day, and it has to end like this. I’m proper fed-up now!
04:00hrs: I woke up, for about the twentieth time, in imperative need of another wee-wee. I was out of the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner swiftly. I caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).
I found the bucket, too full to risk using again. And miraculously, I carried the bucket, and the walking stick, to the wet room, and arrived in time to avoid any leakages en route! A certain amount of smugness was gleaned from this little victory!
I started off in a regular man’s standing position, the wee-wee was barely a trickle. Then I had to do a quick turnaround, and got seated on the Porcelain Throne, for the, (what I thought was) on-it’s-way evacuation! But no, things stopped part-way again, and the crossword book was utilised for many minutes, as I sat there wincing, before Constipation Konrad decided to reactivate and release items. Just as yesterday, a messy dollop that took several flushes to remove. And a heck of cleansing and medicating certain bodily area afterwards!
How many folks do you know, who wake, go for a wee, need a sudden dump, that sticks half-way. Toys with his crossword book for 15 minutes, waiting in pain before Constipation Konrad allows movement again. Then has to clean-up and treat Little Inchies fungal lesion (Nearly crying out in pain as he does so), then the same for Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Finally, get himself a quick wash. Good Heavens, it was an hour-plus by the time I’d done this little lot! I was ready for some sleep again! Hahaha!
Still, on the bright side, there were no trips, tumbles, Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun visits. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Duodenal Donald were trouble-free! Saccades Sandra was a smidge blurry at times. But, fair do’s, Anne Gyna was stabbing away, and Reflux Roger was bothersome. The worst thing at this moment is Toothache Tim was starting to ache a bit. Can’t win ’em all!
Off to the kitchen, took the BP, Sys 155, Dia 69, Pulse 72 and temperature showing as just ‘Low’. Sys reading is a bit high. When I took the medications, I felt like having an extra pain-killer, to counter Toothache Tim. But with the rear-end passing problems, I’ve already been taking extra Codeine, and this may be contributing to the Constipation Konrads recent run of success in fouling up my evacuations? After a little ponderisationing and circumlocutionary dithering, I decided to take only an extra Co-codamol. I’m not sure how I arrived at this decision, but I’m almost sure it made sense at the time. Maybe?
It must have been gone 06:00hrs now. I opened the unliked, unwanted, letting draughts and rain in, thick-framed, light and view-blocking, cannot be accessed for cleaning, designed by a photography hating designer, window in the kitchen, and took a couple of snaps of the morning’s cloudy skies.
With an unnatural for me, turn of determination, I laughed at Nocodemus’s dying nerve-ends, and Shoulder Shuddering Sheila best efforts at disrupting my progress, and delay me further! I contemptuously sneered at their designs to deter me from my computerisationing! Admittedly, it took me far longer than usual to get the updating finished, but I mocked their (Nicodemus & Sheila’s) painful efforts, by not letting them get to me in the slightest! (It was as if someone else was in control of my mind?) Time for some Sanity-Testing, methinks! When I realised how I’d coped with the attacks, all calm and almost nonchalantly, the biggest swank-mode-ever came over me.
I went on Pinterest to post a few photos. Then checked the Emails and posted the link.
As I went onto the WP Reader…
And, as a testimony to my composure and restraint this morning. (I know, it’s a little rare!), I had no urge to question the parentage, abilities, greed, ridiculously sickening to ordinary working people salary, or bullying nature of Mr (No idea how to give a service that works – but I still get paid) Fries, at all. Honestly!
Unflappably, I just put the computer in sleep mode, and went and got two black bags made up, and limped to the waste chute with them. Returned to the apartment, and looked in the fridge to decide what to have for me nosh later on.
Not only that, but I made my choice! All logical-like, sensible and worked out! I will make Josies first, I’ll have some of the Iceland sausage burgers, make extra cheesy potatoes for Josie, and have them cold with the sausage pattie thingies in bread rolls, some tomatoes as well later on. I then planned Josie’s nosh. Cheesy spuds, gherkins, tomatoes, cheese discs, Tuna chunks in brine, mixed with some BBQ mayonnaise, garden peas and mackerel in mild chilli sauce.
Back to the computer, booted her up, and the internet was back working. I finished the WordPress reader perusing. Sent the links off for the blog, and got a can of the San Benedetto, Primo Spremtura Clementina juice from the fridge, and took a swig as I worked for an hour or so, CorelDrawing making a graphic to use on tomorrow‘s Inchcockski.
Oh, by Cragknackles! That was a mistaka-to-maker! Toothache Tim was most annoyed with my stupidity in gulping down the biggest mouthful of the ‘Oh-so-cold, clementine drink! Now my new-found calmness and acceptance mode was changed immediately! Argh! I dare not try any more painkillers, so I had to grit my teeth! But, I was aware that it was my own silly fault! Schnook!
I turned the computer to Sleep Mode and got on with Josie’s nosh. All went well. apart from taking a photo of the good-looking meal, with no Simcard in the Nikon, not realising until much later when I got around to, theoretically uploading it. My mood is sinking back toward the darkness, now! Oy, Vey!
Delivered the meal to Josie’s door. She asked if she could pay me, but I wasn’t having that! I told Josie, no need, as long as she likes it, then that’s enough for me! Bless her!
I got on with updating this blog for a few hours. Oh, the wee-wees have died down now! Just thought I’d mention it, like. Hahaha!
And then, again…
I gave up, turned everything off, and tended to making up my own dinner. Got the sausage patties in the oven, dribbled with a drop of Hickory Garden peas in the saucepan, and cheesy mash on the plate with the tomatoes.
Unbelievable, now out of the blue, Dizzy Dennis is having a bash at me! He was worryingly persistent this time. The stomach began rumbling and grumbling, but no pain with it, just a tad uncomfy.
Got the plastic plate piled up with pretty fodder, and poddled to the recliner to digest the decent looking pot-luck, potlatch. Overall Taste-Rating: 5/10.
The sausage patties looked natty and appealing. But oddly with no smell coming from them when they came out of the oven? I should imagine, if I’d had patties made of paper-mache soaked for a week in stagnant 20/30 gearbox oil for a month or two, the taste would have been the same. Eurgh!
Got the washing up done, and nipped to the wet room for freshen up. I took this photo of the just above the belly button burn mark, I got last night, and recall taking it to make up a funny idea I had for a graphic. But blown if I can remember what my idea was now! Something about a black hole?
The rumbling innards did not indicate any Porcelain Throne needs, though?
I got down in the recliner, to struggle to find sleep arriving. Tons of nod-offs, mind, that lasted a minute or so each time.
The damned ‘Hum’ became louder the longer I failed to nod off properly.
Many get-ups for a wee-wee again. Not easy having so many, in my physical state. I’m concerned that the walking stick ferrules will wear down to a frazzle! Hehehe!
Take care folks, hope you are all coping ‘wiv-fings’ okay. TTFN!
03:10hrs: I woke with a melee of mixed memories from the dreams I’d been having, floating about in my head. But they soon dissipated off into the ether.
As I got my thoughts into some form of semi-imitation, logic-wiseness, and the mind became less saccadic, I spotted the notepad and pen on the floor in front of the £300, second-hand, immedicable, beyond repair, c1968 recliner. The long picker-upper was used to retrieve the articles.
I’d scribbled endless reminders over several pages of the writing pad (not that I can remember doing so). Hundreds of words, with about ten of them readable! Humph! By all accounts, I had dreams all through the night, but working out what they were about was impossible. Although I was not surprised to identify the words chasing and chased. So annoying. Because for me to have bothered writing about them, they could well of been interesting and worth recording? Fangleklops!
As I struggled out of the rickety recliner and caught my balance on the far too painful overgrown toenailed feet, a wee-wee was required. Got the stick, and a few hobbled paces to the EGPB (Emergency-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) It was well-filled, but can I remember using it at all? No! A definite change in style this morning, and colour as well. The FFFOCES (Fast-Furious-Forceful-Orange-Coloured-Ending-Abruptly) mode.
I took the bucket with me to the wet room, to clean and antisepticise it, and wash my hands. While doing so, the need for the Porcelain Throne duties arose.
This session, was without any doubt, the most painful Throne Session for weeks! Oh dearie me, yes! Constipation Konrad was in total control of all movements. Twice, things came to a very painful full-stop, and all I could do was wait in agony for movement to restart.
At what I believed was the last thunderous plop, the relief was almost exhausting! But this was not a eucatastrophe. For, Constipation Konrad, decided to activate again! Argh! Felt drugged and drunk after the activity finally stopped!
I got things cleansed, and spruced-up, and dropped the towel down by the WC. I bent down to pick it up. Which, in itself was a stupid thing to do, with the small picker-upperer hanging inches away on the seat-raiser, and not used! I fell forwards with a little encouragement from Dizzy Dennis and caught my tackle against the corner bar. Started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding! I had to go through the painful process of cleaning and medicating the lesion, and it was almost too much for me to cope with. AAArgh! Distinguableness!
And to think, a few minutes ago, I was moaning to myself because I couldn’t remember the dreams I’d had. I had to sit down for a minute or two. Changed the PP’s and medicated all delicate areas in need. The now getting thinner than ever, pins (legs) looked a lot better, at least. It’s a good job I accidentally bought the last pair of slippers a size too much. (Silver-Lining search result)
Not the best of starts to the day! This morning’s series of Whoopsiedangleplops, along with the hobble-incapacitating toenails and feet, and Dizzy Dennis not yet finished with me, I took my farraginous worries with me to the kitchen.
I got the kettle on and amassed the medicinal needs. The hemadynamometer readings were okay, I think, Sys 164, Dia 68, Pulse 77. The thermometer is still playing up and not showing any figures, just ‘Low.’ I got the medications taken, adding a Senna and took Macrogol drink (will I ever beat Constipation Konrad, Hehe!) Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed Saccades liquid in the eyes, and made a brew of Morrison Extra Strong Assam tea.
I almost felt ready to get my head down again! Hahaha!
I got the updating of the Thursday post done, in between several trips to the wet room for a Wee-wee. (Well, the exercise will do me good!) Incidentally, the wee-wees are starting of a sort of misty-grey, and turning into a bright orange now? Ah, the mysterious wonders of 72, Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, ailments, self-locking and now unopenable new balcony door lock, that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’!
I went on the WordPress reader. Then I answered a comment. Next, I put some pics on Pinterest. Finally, on TFZ and Winwood Facebooking for ages, but I like it.
Then:
Thankfully it was short-lived and didn’t need any action for it to come back to life. Phew!
I made a start on this blog. Then got the ablutions tended to, in case the mobile shop comes. The session went very well. One tiny nick shaving, No toe-stubbing, No dizzies, No leg dancing, and nothing was knocked down or over! But after having at least fifteen dropsies, mind. Yer can’t win ’em all. Hehehe!
I nipped down to the ground floor lobby, to check on the time for the mobile shop to arrive on site. 11:00hrs (I thought)
Back up to the apartment, and updating this post. I was about to go down to wait for the shop, and Sister Jane rang. I said I’d ring her back.
I expected to see some residents waiting for the food van, but not a soul about? I took the opportunity, to have a walk up and down Chestnut Walk, taking some photographs of each of the Courts.
Woodthorpe & Winchester Courts with a piece of Winwood Court, and Woodthorpe again.
On my way back to the foyer, some of the Nottingham City Homes lads, who restarted work this week, along with some Water Control chaps were working away.
They sensibly had signs asking folks to keep to the Social Distancing guidelines. Gloves and masks worn.
As I was going back in to keep warm during my wait for the food van, I bet Betty, and she looked gobsmacked when I told her I was waiting for the shop. Telling me, with a sideways look that said (Quiet rightly), The old Fool! That it is not due until 12:00 hours! Red-faced, embarrassed and feeling a right Klutz! I checked on the notice board in the lift lobby, and sure enough, it was 12:00hrs!
How I misread it the first time, is hard to understand, even for me. I sank a little towards the darkness, and felt even more of a dimwit than usual! That takes some doing, yer know!
I rang Sister Jane back. Asking her to phone me on the landline, which is much clearer than the mobile. Not a lot, many times I have difficulty with the reception from West Bridgford. Especially being on their new Galaxy S20 Ultra 128BG 5G, £1,290 mobiles. Not that I am jealous of course. I’d only get confused with them. I’ve gone back to my old 1982 Nokia 100. And can get in a muddle with that. Hahaha!
Jane rang me back, it was hard to make out what she said at times, and she usually comes over the line clearer than anyone, apart from Obergruppenfüreress Warden Deana. We had a chinwagging session that I enjoyed. Even the telling offs. T’was good!
Still, she and Pete sounded in good form. I got carried away time-wise and had to cut things short, to get down again and not miss the mobile shop, it’s the first time I’ve used it. Sorry, Jane.
I put the oven on, to warm up for later.
I rushed about and got myself down in the lift with the old three-wheeler, and Steve the caretaker and some resident (I knew them but could not recall the names, as is usual for me) And greeted them, and a few people were scattered about at a safe distance waiting. They moved outside as 12:00hrs was approached. I still managed a bit of nattering again.
When the van came, at ten-past twelve, Roy, Betty and Lynne were waiting, and when the van opened up, they all kindly waved my forward to go first. Now, this might sound soppy, but I appreciated that a lot. The legs, feet and toes were all giving me some hassle, and Shaking Shaun was visiting now. Bless them!
I got to the window in the van with my four item shopping list. I bought 4 tomatoes, no tarts, so I got a pack of apple pies (Just as naughty as the tarts, Hehe!), a bottle of disinfectant, a can of deodorant. For £6 odd. Fair enough, it was brought to the flat doors almost. Thanked him, the kind residents behind me for allowing me to go first, and made my way back to the flat.
I very nearly an Accifauxpas, as I got the trolley part-stuck, as I was getting into the apartment, and the weed for a wee-wee was becoming urgent! Somehow or other, I got the porcelain in time.
This time, a totally different mode of wee-weeing performed. An SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy), almost cloudy grey? The pee-pees were puzzling me today! I’ve drunk far-less tea, and no orange juice at all yet, but still the passings come? Just a thought!
I updated this blog again and got some nosh cooking. I decided on bacon and sliced tomato bread thin sarnies! With some cheese discs.
Shagglemuffins! I’d not turned the power-socket on to the stove! Grrr, Nebekh! Got the oven warming up, again. And went on CorelDraw to make some graphics.
Bacon now baked, tomatoes sliced, cheese and two Marmite Riced cakes, and brown thins, a lemon mousse, medications and a mug of orange juice all got ready on the tray. Off to and on my knees and more-than-ample belly in the recliner. Flavour Rating; 8.5/10, it went down very well, my coenaculous, satisfied!
I always think of TFZer Lyzzi when I eat off of this plate. T’was she who sent it to me, bless her!
Got the pots washed, had a wee-wee, washed and medicated, and back down in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Noticed the veins in the right leg, and thought it was fattening up, or filling up with fluid a smidge. Also, a fresh pinkish whatever was coming up on the foot. Fingers crossed that it is not the start of another leg ulcer. No itching or pain from it at all.
Most amazingly, there were no Thought-Storms at all!
03:25hrs: I stirred into a loose form of pretend-life, and recognised that the need for the Porcelain Throne was somewhat urgent. Without much thought or common sense, I attempted straight away, to remove my overly-stomached torso from the £300 second-hand recliner.
This was one of my more painful mistakes, but there was a more severe one to come yet! Oh, lucky me!
A hard truth to put into understandable words, but I’ll try my bestest, such a lot of calamities came within seconds of each other.
As I prised my lump of meat up, I leant against the arm with the right hand, stick in the left, the arm slipped off of the chair, and I plump back down again.
The bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were instant! Warm, wet and painful!
A small silent curse and questioning of my parentage, and I tried again. The pain in the overgrown nails on the feet almost had me over as I tried to stand on my heels. But the four-pronged walking stick prevented another sprawling of my Hindenburg-dirigible sized, but a lot wobblier, torso.
No time to gather my senses and balance, I made my way to the wet room, fearing I might be too late, as the innards churned.
I even got a bit of a move on; and clouted my left elbow of the corner of the doorframe as I got to the WC room. It was almost like an electric shock.
Inside, I dropped the jammie-bottoms and PPs, and down on the raised disabled Grumpy-old-git’s seat. And it was for certain this time, that Trotsky Terence had left the field clear for Constipation Conrad to take over again! I think it felt more like concrete than ever before. But, to be fair, there was minimal bleeding considering the falling back down in the recliner accifauxpas. I took me a long time to force things along. Then, the worst job, cleaning and medication the fungal lesion had to be done. A delicate job indeed, one error and the flood of red stuff flows with a venom. However, uncomfortable as it was, I resisted rushing things, and they all came out okay. Phew!
Off to take the medications and make a brew, and the letter that arrived last night was perused.
A good idea that is, a picnic on the flat balcony, and a chance to wave from a safe distance to other tenants, that I haven’t seen for weeks, with another new sentence from the Doctors for 3-further months imprisonment and isolation, will be okay.
As I got back to the junk room to turn on the computer, the lousy, annoying, never-ending noise from ‘The Hum’ was as loud as it’s ever been. Drives you potty! The Governments best scientists can’t find out what it is caused by. Mind you, they are struggling with Coronavirus pandemic at the moment, so. With all the millions of people staying at home, I would have expected more of them to go mad with having the excruciatingly disturbing ‘Hum’, for 24/7. Hehehe!
I pressed on with making the Template for this blog first. Then went on to updating the Wednesday blog. Got it finalised and sent off. Then Emailed the links. Then on WP Reader. Pinterested some snaps.
Then, got on with the ablutions. All going very well indeed. Up to taking the shower, only three dropsies! Razor, shaving foam, and soap. A sensational start to the session.
I got under the shower and saw some new mould marks near the floor. Bear in mind, I did not have the glasses on, of course. So, I grabbed a can of Cif 100% Mould Remover (I thought at the time, anyway) and sprayed it on the wall and floor. Started showering, and stopped to rinse away the soaking spray.
Oh, dear, stinging pains from the stomach? I investigated the problem, and saw some odd coloured stuff running down the overweight tummy? I soon realised when I put my glasses on what it was. (Impetigo Imogen rampant this morning?)
The colour was the same as the mould remover I’d just used!
Then, I realised I had not used the Cif 100% mould remover, I’d used Cif 100% Oven & Grill Remover! It did sting a bit! It might claim to be a Perfect Finish, but I saw nothing on it about warning of the bottle having a tendency to leak! Cholericalisations, What a plonka!Hahaha! I had a good long spray around from the showerhead of me and the wet room. The pain dissipated, but it left me with an infuriatingly annoying itch!
Still, it could have been worse.
I got the medicating of all things in need done, olive-oiled the earholes, Phorpain gelled the knees and toes. Yes, toes! Not easy using the picker-up so I can reach the toes, I can tell yer! Hehe! Aftershave applied, body spray and even a slash of Au de Caloone… no, that’s not right. I’ll nip and have a look at the bottle, hang on a second or two… Got it, it was eau de toilette spray.
Got dressed, shame really, that means more handwashing to do. Har-har!
Made up and took some black bags to the chute. The flaming toes are hurting more and more. Humph!
Hoping to get the electric can-opener and some more black bags delivered today from Amazon. Even more important, I pray that I will be able to operate the machine. Cramps and RAI (rheumatoid Arthur Itis), can cause problems enough, but when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters nerve end die, it can be dangerous with the usual hand-operated can openers. The Warfarin levels are high too, which means bleeding can be a bugger to stop.
I made a brew and had a look outside. Some dogs walking their owners were about, so I got the camera to try and take a few shots. The dogs were a bit too lively for me to catch a photo of them with their owners.
Until a couple with some older woof-woofs came along. I see these dogs regularly, it looks like the larger, older one has arthritis or something like that. But he still does his best to keep up, bless him.
Then, as I was giving up, I spotted a lone crow on the bottom field near the tree copse and set about trying to get a decent shot of him for Lona, a gal on the Troll Free Site, who loves crows. As you can see, with him (the crow) being lively, and Nicodemus’s nerve ends letting me down, it was a struggle to get any shot of the bird at all. My best three efforts are below, I got a few shots with no bird many, one with part of him, and finally managed one of the carrion-crow. Then he flew off.
I checked on the tracker about the Amazon things, it indicated today twixt 16:00 > 20:00hrs. Then I updated this blog.
Then got a template for the morning made up. Then I set about getting some graphics made up. Things went okay with the nerve-ends. (Smugness Mode Assimilated!)
As I checked on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, the intercom burst into life. It was the Amazon delivery of black bags and the electric tin (can) opener. I pointed rolled a can of G&T to the chap, and he was very pleased with it, and the genuine thanks I gave him.
The first thing needed, was my learning how to use the machine. The guide book was in too small and feint a print to grasp all of it. But I gave it a go on the large (400g whatever that is) can of garden peas without a ring pull on it. I observed the bit of plastic tubing on the blade in time and removed it. I wasn’t too confident I’d set it up properly, but it worked well. The tips that Sister Jane gave me earlier on the phone, were used and all went okay. Thanks, Jane.
Having got the peas in the saucepan, I set about making up some black bags. The roll of sacks in my hand in this picture contained 200!
So you can tell they were a little smaller than I had hoped. Humph! On the other hand, they were stronger than the ones I had in stock Swings and roundabouts? I made up two of the old bags and one of the new, this confirmed the new bags being stronger but no thicker. So, maybe they were worth the extra cost? Hobbling was so painful, with my trying to walk on the heels to relieve the pain from the long toes, this caused balance difficulties, IU must have looked a sad sight.
I took the bags to the waste chute and returned to collect the recycling box and bag to take down to caretakers room.
As I was getting out of the lift on the ground floor, I met Angela’s Roy (15th floor). The man kindly offered to take the bag and box to the caretaker for me. Which was such a kind gesture, as he saw how I was struggling to walk. I thanked him and explained that I needed to walk, or try to, or else things would freeze-up. He laughed, which cheered me a little.
I got to the caretaker’s room, but Robert was out and about, so I left the big box near his door. Hope he doesn’t mind.
Back up to get the nosh sorted. Very tasty. Flavour rating of 8.8/10, the potatoes that the Government had kindly given me in the food parcel, were excellent, slow-cooked with a drop of balsamic and malt vinegar added. The flavour soaked in well with using the crock-pot to sort of marinating.
As I washed the pots, and then me, thoughts turned to will I be able to sleep, the mind was a little active, churning over.
I rang Deana again, to ask her to cancel the Nottingham City Council food parcels, but the phone died on me after telling me ‘Not available’. I bet the ILCs are getting more stressed than I am. All of us to bother about, and their own clan too!
Got settled down, and watched To the Future 2 on TV. I’d seen it before, just as well, cause I kept nodding off every time the adverts came on.
When it was finished, I recall thinking, ‘Hello, Toothache Tim seems to be starting again’, and then a beautiful blankness for five hours of uninterrupted sleep! Yeehaa!
