0400hrs: I woke up with a recherché steely unconcern-about-anything attitude. This didn’t last long, mind).
With such ease and lack of hassle, I can barely remember getting out of the £300 second-hand recliner.
I was even whistling to myself as I made my way to the kitchen to get the Health Checks done and the medications.
Dammit! I’d done it again and left the oven on overnight!
The already unfathomable semi-carefree attitude was soon evanescing. My stomach contracted and self-loathing returned with a vengeance. The contempt and antagonism stewed away. Irresistible thoughts of repentance and self-flagellation worryingly lurked.
Worryingly, my EQ was telling me things were going to get worse later.
The clear intentions of what I had to do this morning, faded. To be replaced with worry and disgust at my stupidity. This could have been a disaster that would have affected others living in this block of flats. And it is the second time I have done this in a week or so. Feh!
I did my best to hide my emotions and got on with the Health Checks.
The pulse up a fair bit. Probably, due to my getting upset at my leaving the oven on again?
The cramps returned, after being so scarce last night too.
There were no signs of any call yet to the Porcelain Throne.
A good few wee-wees needed, though.
A few car parking spaces down below on Chestnut Walk.
For the first time ever, I felt a little dizzy as I looked down to take the photo.
The night sky looked a little foreboding for some reason. I attempted to take a panoramic shot of it. It didn’t come out to bad this time.
Still feeling a bit down in the mouth. But, I made a brew and started to finalise yesterday’s diary. Got it all done and posted off. It took me a few hours, mind. Then I made a start on this blog.
I opened the emails. Oh, dear! The surgery has now given me another appointment, for Thursday at 1005hrs! Hence, I will miss another Social Hour, the second on the trot! I’ll show yesterdays communications again, with this mornings at the bottom:
Now the Self-loathing has been joined with frustration, and Duodenal Donald was starting to kick-off, giving me some nasty gip!
I feel so pathetically useless. No drive left. I’m resigned to doing anything the staff there say now. The bottle and gusto have gone. The staff do not listen to what I say; about Thursday’s being my one Social Hour a week. My falling asleep in the afternoons. They have moved the blood test day so often. Sometimes they fail to make an appointment for me, I go to the hospital, then I get told off, and I must not go to the hospital for my tests, but the surgery. Thursdays, apart from missing the social meeting, means… Oh, sod it!
I am now such a different person to the one who woke up this morning at 0400hrs, feeling almost carefree and whistling. Now (0615hrs) Full of angst uneasiness and inquietude, almost bitter! Feeling incapable and pathetic. This being unable to get my message across, is doing my mental and physical health no good. All I would request is: Please do the tests as early in the day as possible, on a Tuesday or Wednesday to suit them. Not a lot to ask is it? But no, maybe it is?
What a flipping day. I just moved to extract my overly heavy and plump body from the chair, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were so painful and started bleeding as soon as my bottom left the seat? What’s going on, am I going bonkers or what? It is like a different world I’m in. Suddenly everything that can seem to want to go wrong! Off to the wet room. I might as well get the ablutions and other medicationalisationing done while I’m in there. I’m losing heart here. Hehehe!
Bleeding both front and back now. The fungal lesion and the haemorrhoids. Neither too bad, though. Both responded to the medicating and stopped flowing by the time I came out of the wetroom. I didn’t use the shower with it being so early, not wanting to disturb my neighbours. I’m pleasantly surprised that I have not done any toe-stubbing or dropping anything yet. Fingers crossed. All done, I made a mug of tea and back on the computer.
I made a spur-of-the-moment funny graphicalisation and posted it off. Humour and sarcasm about the massive cuts in Nottingham Police numbers. I titled it “Aliens in Nottingham City Centre Scare! Haha!
Then made up a graphic of Thomas, one of our TFZer members.
Herbert above was clattering about a bit, but not up to his usual weekend cacophonic standards at all.
But of course, I am not complaining, just mentioning it. No point in me risking getting another telling off from the Nottingham City Homes for complaining about the noise. As the Management, told me; He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. I don’t want to lose my home. Oh heck, I forgot there that I was told not to put any conversations with Nottingham City Homes Management, employees, representatives or agents on my blog. Sorry about that, I’ll cross it off.
Did another graphic for the TFZers. Making three in total.
Went onto Facebooking, and no problems today with it sticking! I may regret saying that later, I think. Hehehe!
The early meal was okay, but I wasn’t.
I reckon I ate about a third of it. I just couldn’t eat any more, despite it being tasty. Most irritating.
There were still no signs of any call yet to the Porcelain Throne.
Herbert was clanging away again, but as earlier, not up to his usual standard of a constant audial level.
France went through to the knock-out stages of the World Cup. I was already feeling a little queasy and unwell before this result. Positively poorly now! Hehehe!
The mind had a feast of a melee of machinations, fretting, worrying about almost every thought or concern that flitted into the brain.
Getting off to sleep was not an option. So I watched some banal TV and managed to get a few nod-offs of a few minutes each. Well gone midnight before I got off into the land of nod, properly. Tsk!
0400hrs: Woke and feeling a little under the weather, not poorly, just hazy… no that’s not the word. Acidulous, with an awareness of my ability for committing aeviternal errors, shortcomings, and cock-ups. I did not like myself much.
This morning, the brain was back to its meanderings, frettings, worrying and confused perceiving and making no sense of the world or universe.
No signs of any nocturnal nibbling or somnambulating having taken place, I tackled the job of removing my overly wobbly body mass from the £300 second-hand recliner with ease, and off to the kitchen to do the Health Checks. Hippy Hilda, Anne Gyna, and Roger Reflux were all in a good mood with me. Duodenal Donald, I could sense was getting ready to attack me shortly. The light tightening and gentle stabs of pain told me this.
I found the flipping hotplate on the stove had been left on a low setting overnight. What a schmuck!
Got the Health Checks completed and took the medications.
Th Sys, Dia, and the Pulse had gone back up again, about time too.
Shame about the weights slight increase. Particularly after the decent hobble to the City Hospital yesterday, I’d hoped it would have gone the other way, down.
Humph!
The bulbous tummy innards rumbled, and I found myself rushing as fast as I could to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence had me fooled, he’s back again. A messy session that needed cleaning up after. I decided to get the ablutions done while I was in there. For fear of disturbing the neighbours so early, I had a stand-up wash. No cuts shaving. Harold’s haemorrhoids were not bleeding. Only the fungal lesion stung when medicated. Tsk!
I returned to the kitchen, and threw away the now gone cold mug of English Breakfast tea, and made a fresh one. Took these shots while waiting for the kettle to boil.
You can see the underfelt on the right of the first photo. And, the progress on the balcony base, which doesn’t seem much compared to the same day last week.
I observed some parking spaces down below on Chestnut Walk. A curiosity indeed. I imagine that the more well-heeled, favoured fortunate few, who can afford a car, have a family to go away with, and have not lost their driving licences through ill-health, might be on holiday in Seychelles, Hong Kong or at the World Cup in Russia? Hehehe! Only joking!
I went to the kitchen and realised just how odd my legs were this morning, again, always a change every waking up.
Today it was the turn of the right leg to get more bloated than the left one. But both of them had seemed to have cleared out the water retention a fair bit. I’d hoped this would have helped me get the weight down, but, no. Tsk!
The left leg usually wins at this battle between them. Haha!
I went to make sure the keys were in the jacket pocket in the hallway, and guess what?
I found the Wilko Grow tomatoes in a can tin! After days of looking for this, I decided I’d lost it, but here it is on.
Perfectly natural to store a thing like this on top of the electricity box in the hall, with the fresh-air sprays. Well, maybe not eh? Haha!
I got the raffle prizes, nibbles and bits ready in the bag for the Winwood Social Hour later.
Got the yesterday’s diary completed and posted off. Made a start on this one.
I received an Email from the doctor’s surgery.
No mention of why they did not contact me last week with the results or to make an appointment for this week for me. As for their yet another late selection making this week for next week, I sent an Email back thanking them. But telling them that a 1230hrs appointment would be unsuitable for me. I went into some detail for them to ignore, explaining about my weariness that dawns very early in the day. A lat appointment means I am incapable of getting any other things done on that day. I bravely informed them that I would go to the City Hospital for the blood test. They always tell me off for doing this! But with two out of four weeks, they have not made me an appointment at all. Grumph & Grumble!
The Iceland delivery arrived while I was writing the paragraph above.
Sociable delivery driver. We had a little natter while he handed me the carrier bags through the door.
I got the bags carried through to the kitchen and laid on the floor, ready to get the things in them sorted and stored away.
Argh! Taking some things out, I caught the hook that was supporting my favouritest mug; Down it flew between the bags and hit the floor.
I considered crying, but I hadn’t got the energy. Haha!
Got the things for the future raffle prizes, nibble box off to the spare room.
Then, got the fridge and freezer things in one area, and cupboard stuff in another, and checked the invoice.
I had only received one of the two for £4 pork loin steaks.
I checked the email out. They had charged me £2.49 for the single pack, I thought I’d ordered two to get the offer price?
I found out that the other pack ordered was unavailable, clearly states ordered 2 Delivered 1 on the docket. But they have charged me £2.49 for it. I ordered this weeks fodder from Iceland because Morrison’s had been making so many ridiculous substitutions on their orders. You can’t win can yer! Rob-Dogs!
Got the diary caught up with to here, and already late, now. I set off to the Social Hour.
As I left the block of flats out onto Chestnut Way, I had a go at making a panoramic photograph. Didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped it would, but not too bad I suppose.
Went to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Stabsgefreiteress Wardens Temporary HQ, WC, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Area, Telling Inchcock off zone, Crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents Socialisationalistic room.
About 20 folks in attendance, including Big John. Put the raffle prize on the trolley.
Had a natter with Jenny and then Cyndy. Sat near Winchester William (who knicked my raffle tickets, Hehe! Lynne arrived, and we had a chinwag. She later handed-out thermometer/dampness monitors, that Nottingham City Homes had provided for anyone who wants one.
Handed out the nibbles, getting myself a bit of socialisationing enjoyment while doing so.
Dizzy Dennis visited suddenly. I departed early, confused a little now.
Strolled down in the sunshine and warm wind back to the flat. Got inside at 10:50hrs.
Up to my apartment without needing a wee-wee either?
Did the second set of Health Checks. All readings apart had taken a dive.
Took the shoes off and to the storage area in the spare room.
The noise of the drilling outside was horrendous. These photos I took of two gentlemen drilling-away near the window. The quality of these pictures are not good, in fact, they’re bad. This is due to the windows not being able to be cleaned, as they remain locked Rightly so, during the workers on the hoists upgrading work is done. I think!
Did the midday tablet taking and got on with updating this blog.
I opened the humidity/temperature thingy and got it on the bookshelves. Bit of a shame they did not put the once English, until we gave away our heritage and hopes by going over to the Metric system, to beg for membership of the EU as it was known then: forgetting us oldies still live by Fahrenheit and get confused you know. We have many qualities that have we seen abandoned by many around us. Like, honesty, empathy, and reliability. Hello, I’ve off again moaning. Sorry about that.
But, I remembered that I had to do some more page top funnies as I had run out of them again. So, on to CorelDrawing.
Four hours later, I’d got some done, while I listened to the unmelodious knocks, grinds, and bangs from above. But of course, I am not complaining, just mentioning it. No point in my risking getting another telling off from the Nottingham City Homes for complaining about the noise. As the Management, told me; He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. You’ll have to put up with it. I don’t want to lose my home.
Now I’ve turned my limited and stunted attention (Very tired now, I could understand it, if I had done anything, Tsk!), to getting summat to eat.
Can’t say I really enjoyed this one. Rating of 5/10 given for taste value, no, make it 3.5/10 after all.
Watched the Argentina v Croatia game. It really cheered me up when the Argies lost 3-0, a right tonic that was. The so-called ‘Hand-of-God’ incident came back to my mind, making the experience even more gratifying to watch.
My glee did not last long, for the cameraman showed a close-up of drug-taking, alcoholic millionaire Maradonna in the dug-out. I could not resist saying a few comforting words of badinage and lampooning in his direction.
After the game finished, the wandering mind took over again. What the heck I didn’t fret or ponder over or about, was probably less than what I did excogitate about. Memories of most topics I considered, had gone off into the ether, the second another one presented itself. At one point I found myself begging the brain to stop. Very sad!
0315hrs: Shot awake, then tried to get back to sleep. Couldn’t though when I realised I had to go to the City Hospital today and needed to get the diaries caught up with. Ablutions and medicationalising were done so much earlier. Get everything ready and sorted for the Doctors, and have the blood test. So I got out of the £300 second-hand recliner and of to the kitchen to start with getting the Health Checks done.
I turned on the kitchen light, and nothing happened. Got the camera and took this picture and the light tube started to flicker into life, eventually lighting up the room.
I wondered what anyone outside must have thought if they saw the almost pyrotechnic display of light flashing for so long. From then on, the light worked okay. Took a while to get started each time, but nothing like as long as this time. Hehe!
Got the computer started and had to nip to the Porcelain Throne. Signs of Trotsky Terence being interested in returning, but not too severely.
Back to the computer and started this post off up to here.
Updated yesterday’s Inchcock next. Posted it off and made a start on this one up to this far.
Made up the nibble bags for the blood test nurses at the hospital.
The muck from the works taking place outside on the external wall, has somehow got into the kitchen? Hey-ho!
Then it was time for me to get the ablutions and medications tended to.
Gathered the black bags, recycling jars, etc. and off out to the chute. Dropped the waste bags down the chute en route. To the lift, arrived at the lobby beneath at exactly 0800hrs.
The electronic sign advertised ‘Could you be a complaints member?’ After I gingerly mentioned the noise coming from a certain person above my dwellings and was told “He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. You will have to live with it”; I think I might be able to bring some light on how to deal with complaints? But I can say no more, after also being told it is not on and out of order for me to mention anything that takes place between me and any representative, agent or employee, in my blog. So I’ll say nowt and cross this out.
Windy but warm with it again today.
I placed my cleaned and rinsed Balsamic vinegar, malt vinegar and smoky BBQ sauce bottles in the bin. When I put the gherkin jar in the container, yesterday, it was the only one in there.
A few in now, no sauce, jam or pickle jars, though. Wine, Rum, Cognac, Gin, Whiskey… all alcoholic bottles. Hehehe!
It’s just jealousy of course. I’ve had all my old pleasures taken away from me; driving licence, passion involvement, alcohol-intake, pipe smoking… Humph! All through medical conditions of varying natures. Spit!
Over the road and up by the Tree Copse into Woodthorpe Park.
A Fun-Fayre was in the process of being set-up on the old football field. This brought memories of the last one we had here. That was when the teenagers conned residents into letting them in via the intercom. They stole fire extinguishers and did some material damage. Then threatened the Security Guard who responded, and spat at him. When he told them he had called the police, they nearly damaged themselves laughing. I got an EQ conceived thought, that something nasty would happen this weekend. Fingers crossed I am wrong.
I had a delightful unhurried stroll along to Mansfield. One lady allowed me to respond to her dog when it came to me for a bit of fuss. Nice of her, it cheered me and the little dog up I think.
The traffic was heavy, and I made a mental note of being careful, when crossing the many roads I will need to on the way to the City Hospital.
I pressed on slowly and wearily.
Magnus Road and on down Edwards Lane turned right onto the congested Valley Road dual carriageway.
The mind wandering as I legged it along towards the A611, were of a controlled memory of yesteryear for some reason.
I was back in 1958 in the backyard of the house in Brookfield place. Mrs Duke, Mrs Wing, Polish George and my young love Christine provided the recollections for me to stew over, happily for once. A very much pleasant, congenial, delightful rarity for me, this.
I was well deep in thoughts, and not concentrating on where I was going, as I wallowed in nostalgia.
When this Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclistess actually clipped my arm with her handlebar as she sped by me. Another new bruise again now! But, on this occasion, I immediately realised it was partly my own fault for being in an, albeit temporary, dream world – literally.
There were entrance/exit roads to cross on this stretch of the roadway.
It was just as well I had set out early and was in no rush. IT took me ages to get across each road safely. Taxi after taxi and cars going in and out, all seemingly in a great hurry, pedestrians were apparently not their first concern.
When I got into the waiting area, there were perhaps only 30 or so sat in the queueing zone. I got a ticket, number 142, and they called out for card 105 to go to cubicle One. I thought this is going to no bother, I’ll be going in within fifteen minutes max. This proved to be an Ignis Fatuus (A deceptive goal or hope [Feel free to use Ignis Fatuus] Hehe!)
Half an hour later, and I was still a way off from being summoned. Seems they had put up a message on the indicator telling us they were swamped and to expect a long wait for the Phlebotomy Department. On the bright side, I completed a crossword from scratch while waiting! First one I’ve ever fully finished in this book – and no one around for me to brag about it, too! But the next one I started had me beat, not that is difficult to beat me at anything. Tsk!
They only had two of the five cubicles in use. Eventually, I was called. The look I got from the lady as she pointed to the chair and took the paperwork from me without a word, told me all I needed to know. I was going to be in trouble here!
She got annoyed when I didn’t hear when she did speak. All over in seconds, she didn’t waste any time checking to see if it was still bleeding after taking the blood, just stuck a plaster over the cotton wool I had been pressing down onto.
I did what Doug from America advised, I killed her with caring kindness. Put on my bestest smile and gave her the bag of nibbles. Suddenly she wanted to talk, thanking me profusely. I replied ‘You’re welcome’ and departed.
I hobbled to the bus stop, the feet were stinging a bit now. Go a number 40 bus and was the only person on it at the time.
Many more passengers got on en route, though.
I’ve done boxing against bigger chaps, (I lost all the bouts of course), a bungee-jump, faced an armed intruder, pulled a bloke from under his burning motorbike, got thrown into the canal when I about five years old, a confrontation with the Mau-Mau, and voted Liberal once. So I can’t be accused of being fearful (Although I am).
But this bus ride scared me to death almost. The driver might have been related to Nigel Benn, Lewis Hamilton or trained Marc Márquez. Gawd, he was a manically fast and jerky driver! He got through gaps, especially on the Mansfield Road, with inches to spare.
This indeed concentrated my mind when it came to getting up to get off of the bus, and still, keep my balance.
The 40 screeched to a halt at the bus stop. I nervously muttered a thank you to the busman as I limped shakingly off of the vehicle. The thanks were offered for my still being alive, I think. Hehehe!
I limped up the hill back to the flats, really just happy to have got there without any injuries. The workmen were busy again. I could hear the drilling and grinding getting louder and louder as I neared my beloved Woodthorpe Court.
Again, I didn’t see any residents on my way up to the twelfth floor. Got in, had a wee-wee and did the Health Checks and took the medications. The building seemed to be vibrating, but it was only the drilling outside.
I got the computer on and made a route map of today’s hobble.
I got on with updating this diary.
May hours later I stopped to make a mug of tea.
Took the dressing off of the arm.
Not sure if the new bruising is from the nurse or the Nottingham Pedestrian Cyclistess. But I thought I could see a further swelling coming up.
Went to take the last medications of the day.
Noticed that the head scar was changing colour again. Why I don’t know. But it is nothing new for me not to know something. Haha!
Had to visit the Porcelain Throne.
It turned out to be a false alarm. Again I didn’t know why.
Thought about what to have for my nosh. I might try a can of the BBQ sauce boneless mackerel, some mashed and cheesed potatoes, garden peas (Tinned, no fresh ones left now), and some tomatoes and gherkins. Does this sound good to you?
Went to catch up on my Facebooking next. All went well until I suddenly lost about fifty comments, there one minute, gone the next. Oh, I am confused now!
Hello, hello, hello! Just had a bit of itching from the arm, had a look at it, and new scars welts whatever, have appeared since an hour or so ago?
My body is going to pot yer know. Haha!
Got the nosh sorted out. As planned this time. The boneless mackerel fillets in BBQ sauce, tomatoes, vinaigretted beetroot, a baby-sized tin of peas and mash with cheese added. I had carbonated water tonight, cause I thought I’d done well in avoiding any chips or bread. Awaiting Sister Jane’s critical evaluation, assessment and comments now. Haha!
Did the Health Checks and took the medications.
No World Cup matches on tonight of any interest to me. But I did watch a daft, Go-along-with-it-film and enjoyed it.
Mainly because it was an unserious escapist film, and it had sub-titles, too.
I tried to watch a police programme aftrwards, but fatigue overtook me and thankfully, the brain allowed me to sleep. Ah, All Praise to sweet Morpheus, who entangled himself in my dreams of peace!
0400hrs: Woke up to Neuralgia Nigel’s stabbing pains giving me some stick, and they stayed this way all day, on and off. Tsk! I’ll ask to see the doctor in the morning when I go for my blood test… Oh, hang on, they have not given me an appointment again? I’ll have to go to the City Hospital for the INR Warfarin test, then make my way to the surgery to beg to see the doctor. Tsk! By the time I get to the hospital, then get two buses to the Sherrington Park Medical place, the day will be gone. Ah, never mind.
It felt a bit nippy this morning, so I extracted my body from the £300 second-hand recliner and got the dressing gown on. Doing this, I noticed how the legs were almost thin now? The water retention must have had a leak? Hahaha!
Caught my reflection in the kitchen window as I was getting the Health Checks things prepared. (A bit of a shock, but I’m alright now, thanks. Hehe!)
Took a selfie, to show how pale and pasty I appeared. The blotches had returned as well. Innit odd how I wake up a different person nearly every day?
I like the ghostly hieroglyphics on my forehead. Another mystery, possibly an alien visit during the night? Haha!
I pondered over which ailments were currently hassling me, and those giving me a break. Neuralgia Nigel, we know about, he is very persistent at this time. I could sense I’d been bleeding from the Fungal Lesion again overnight. Must go and clean things up after I’ve done the Health Checks. However, these ailments have ganged up together to all take a break from giving my grief, bless ’em: Haemorrhoid Harold, Reflux Roger, Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Hippy Hilda, Hernia Harry, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Steven, Collywobbles Colin, Water-retention Rupert, even Anne Gyna at this time, all at peace. A rare event. How kind and sympathetic of them! Shame that Nigel is not in the same frame of mind, but that would be too much to expect.
Got the HC’s done.
Brewed up and got the medications taken. No creaming, lotioning or medicating done yet, I think I’ll do them when I get the showering session.
On the computer and updated and eventually posted off the Inchcock Today Monday diary to WordPress.
A call came for me to utilise the Porcelain Throne. But, it wasn’t the usual urgent one, just a gentle reminder. You’ve no idea how this pleased me. These ailments being so considerate can be very worrying to me, you know, Ha-ha! I strolled into the spare room to get some PP’s from the box and noticed how rather fascinating the view was from outside. That blue hue is lingering again, I thought it well worth photographicalisationing.
I’m sorry I did now. I clouted my knuckles getting the camera back inside from the little gap allowed in the narrow opening of the windows.
Off to the wet room. Once again pleasantly pleased with the mission. Haemorrhoid Harold was not bleeding at all, only the Fungal Lesion needed attention and a change of PPs.
Back to the computer and made a start on this post. Spent a few hours getting this far. I must get some new spectacles, and the ability not to tread on and crush this pair!
Getting late now, I’ll have to get the ablutions tended to. I do not want to miss the bus up to the top of Mapperley Plains. I intend to go to Aldi’s to try and purchase another pack of their marvellous tasty pork ribs, to have at the weekend. Although my EQ is telling me that something is going to happen, that will change all my pathetic, poorly prepared and irrelevant plans, soon.
One Whoopsiedanglepop right at the end of ablutionising. I dropped the soap powder box and walloped my head against the sink as I bent down to clean it up. What a shlemiel!
I have to listen to my EQ, but can’t understand how it works or sometimes what it means. This would be due to my having the highest ever at the time (2010) EQ rating in England, and in the same interview, they found I had the lowest IQ they have ever recorded. All I know is some calamity is going to take place, and affect me shortly. It’s never wrong. So, I worry not. Quidquid erit, omnis fortuna ferenda est. Off to the wet room for a shower, shave, teeth cleaning, gargling and medicationalisation session.
I had a good long cleaning and medicationalisationing session.
I took the black bags to the chute on the way out.
I observed that some strange marks had been made, on the outer edge of the lift door.
Into the elevator and down one floor to visit Penny with some more plasters I have found for her. No answer.
I could see out of the window, why the chaps are so extra noisy at the moment. The underseal they are fitting has white plastic whatever-they-are implanted. They have not reached my floor yet, I took this from the 11th level. I’d called on Penny to give her some more plasters I had found for her. No answer, she might be at the bus stop.
Down and outside, I took this first photo of the front of Woodthorpe Court, showing how far they had got up with the undersealing job.
I wonder if this might be the cladding after all because the blueprint photo shows this colour as what the finished block will be in? Multicoloured, you know. Hehe!
I turned and took a long shot of the Winchester Court flats.
Willmott-Dixon started on Woodthorpe first, then began Winchester Court upgrading. They are catching up with the first block now.
Throughout, they have not stopped with building the new extra-care block in between the other two.
This time of the day, during the week, I get to see many folks. The Willmott-Dixon lads and managers, people, going to or coming from walking their dogs.
Best of all, I can converse with other tenants.
Mind you, I have to take care of the lorries, plant machinery and traffic, no room for a walkway, while the build goes on.
I had a funny thought while hobbling to the hut. One day a lorry delivering building materials, from, say Lithuania, might open its doors and out will pop few dozen immigrants. We can house them in the new ready-made extra-care flats. Haha!
I got to the hut as Cyndy caught me up. Only a few tenants in the room, but all friendly ones. I wish I could remember their names, I’ll have a go; Cyndy, Margaret, Doris, Brenda, Welsh William and Roy. But of course, I have been forbidden from mentioning any communications I have with any Nottingham City Homes personnel or agents, on this blog, by the Management. So, I won’t.
I was feeling better now after having a few natters and chats and felt pleased with the helpful nature and asking of how I felt from some of the clan… well, Mishpochehs (My family) to me, nowadays. Obergruppenfurheress Warden Julie inquired as to my health as well. And I love it! Handed the nibbles around.
But three of them mentioned the blotch on my forehead. Cyndy got out a vanity-mirror for me to have a look. Bless her. I think it was when I spilt the soap powder and clouted my head on the sink, to blame. Tsk!
Out to the bus stop and more chinwagging was enjoyed. Caroline, from the Car Home at the end of the road, was with Doris (I might have got this pleasant lady’s name wrong, sorry about that if so), and I was in the middle of listening to tales when the buses arrived. Doris and I were the only ones who got the City bound L9. I said my farewells to Doris, as I alighted a few stops further on.
Walked along to the Aldi store, the taste of their tasty pork ribs was making me lick my lips at the thought of them.
Calamity! They didn’t have any in stock, and a lady I asked about them said: “I think they have stopped selling them, now”. My heart sank, and I drifted into a temporary semi-depression and sulking-mode-mood. Haha!
But this didn’t stop me spending a fortune on unneeded, unessential, but I suspect blithesome comfort foods. Social hour nibbles. Fresh orange juice. Strong cheese. OVen Bottom Muffins (Hurrah!). Yoghourts. Beetroot salad. Pork Pie. Fruit Fool. Ice cream cones. Frikadellens. Finally some fresh tomatoes.
Far less well-off now. I struggled with the weight of the bags. The glass bottles caused this dilemma. Grumph!
A certain vagueness of mind continued as I ambled along Woodborough Road to go down Mapperley Rise onto Winchester Street and home. Hard to find the optimum words to describe his sensation.
As got to the bend where the road drops off even steeper, where I turned right into Chestnut Walk, the view was fantastic and so much clearer than the last time travelled it on the way home. As I got down the road a fair way, a view of the complex was photographed, and I zoomed in from the same spot to see the workers on Woodthorpe Court all that way off, too. Not up to Tim Price’s standards, but a fairish effort, I thought. (Smug mode adopted) Hehehe
A little nearer and I took another shot. The Willmott-Dixon lads were still busy with upgrading, deliveries and removals.
Not many tenants about, though. In fact, none.
I hobbled the length of Chestnut Walk to the flats without seeing any residents whatsoever.
Got to and through the metal maze and went in, through the foyer, up in the lift out and into the flat without any human contact.
Had a short, sharp wee-wee.
Put the fodder away and did the Health Checks and took the midday medications.
Found a letter from the Nottingham Queens Medical Centre about the Strangulation Procedure for the haemorrhoids. I found this rather strange and gnomic, as they are being done at the Nottingham City Hospital, or so I thought.
But I appreciate that my memory problems are a ready-made omnium-gatherum of forgetfulness and confusion, disorientation, misleading, even to me. A mishmash of shortcomings, foibles and panic-mode inspiring, self-inflicted preconditions that do not bode well for my sanity. Just thought I’d mention it like.
Put the oven on to heat-up. I plan on having two of the Aldi bought pork frikadellens in two oven-bottom-muffins, tomatoes and chips of nosh today. No football of any interest for me to watch.
Got on the computer to update this post.
The workers were right outside my window now. It reminded me of when I worked at Carters pop factory, the noise I mean, but memory fails, and I think this drilling was even louder than the factory. It probably wasn’t, but they gave one hell of a headache. Ah-well! Decent s0rt of lads, I gave them a Nottingham “Aye-up mid duck, you-awl-right?” They replied in a North East accent that they were.
The lads finished for the day. Leaving me a new decorative covering of red dust on the outside of the window and frames.
Had a bash on Facebook while the potato fritters were cooking (Changed my mind about the chips).
A super-nosh. I felt guilty about the fat in the Frikadellens though. The beetroot in vinegarette tasting right-grand too! A 9.1/10 Taste Bud Rating was given.
Now a mystery of even greater depth than ordinary arrives in my life. I know I bought a packet of oven-bottom-muffins; it is on the receipt. I certainly got it home, I remembered taking it out of the bag.
But, when it came to my wanting to eat them – they were nowhere to be found! I searched high and low, giving up after a while, in case the prepared meal went too cold to eat.
I conducted another hunt for the muffins, after washing-up the pots. No luck. How did I lose these tasty treats? Aliens? Ghosts or goblins? What a schmuck!
Got settled to watch whatever was on TV. Hoping it would help me get to sleep. This time it did, and I got-off-to-kip earlier than I have been doing. Slept a long time too.
0030hrs: Woke up with the muddled-mind back to playing its usual tricks and wandering all over, nervous, fearful and frustrated; but it soon stopped when the first of the neuralgia pains like electric shocks started to cascade through the right-hand side of the head and continued to do so with merciless venom. Definitely going to the NHS Drop-in Centre to ask for advice this morning.
I was up and out of the £300 second-hand recliner, taking care in case any dizzies came, but they didn’t so all okay there.
Off for a short-sharp wee-wee, then rinsed and took the morning medications with some tap water.
Collated the laundry and set off down to the lobby. As I alighted from the elevator, I noticed a right mess on the carpeting. I don’t think it was made by the Willmott Dixon lads at the weekend, they were not working. Then again, I have been flat-bound for two days.
Got the washer going, and back up in the lift. A short-sharp wee-wee then sorted the records for, and did the Health Checks, for this morning.
I put the high pulse down to my having been a little more active than usual before doing the checks.
The neuralgia started to get worse now and moving, no, spreading down to the neck again, but there was no swelling of the cheeks yet.
By the time I’d done these and took the photo, it was time to return back down and move the laundry from washer to the dryer.
I moved some clothing that had been left by someone, folded it and put it on the draining board.
Got the dryer going. Then I nipped outside and took a couple of photographs of the flats and outside of the lobby.
When I leant back to take the shot of the Woodthorpe Court with the lift lobby window lights on, there were no dizzies whatsoever. Good that!
The morning was a little breezy, but it was not cold at all.
Meandering back to the lobby door, and concentrating on putting the camera away, I walked into the second pole from the right. Bruised shoulder now I think. Hoddy-noddy!
I did feel a fool!
For some reason, this started Duodenal Donald off. Why it should have done this, I have not the foggiest. But now I’m having to cope with Duodenal Donald and the (Newly Christened) Neuralgia Nigel. Hehe!
Got a sore throat coming on too. But that might be linked to the damaged nerves, I suppose. Or not, or perhaps, maybe?
Back up to the apartment, and had a long-painful wee-wee.
Took the morning’s medications and made a start on this diary.
I stopped a while and made a list of the medications I am on, to take with me to the NHS Drop-in centre on London Road. It’s a bit of a walk after I get off of the L9 bus, but its got to be done. I just hope they do not tell me off for going there, instead of making an appointment to see the Doctor. Last time I made one, it was a six-day wait to get in. Getting a bit nervous about going now. The last thing I want is for them to call an ambulance to take me to the Queens Medical Centre. Where I had a further three-hour wait to be seen. Then, I told they were to keep me in. Then I was informed there were no beds, and sent home after the buses had stopped running, had no money for a taxi and ended up walking for three hours all the way back to the flat, at 0100hrs in the morning. Ah, memories… Tsk!
Done it: Warfarin, Bisoprolol Fumarate, Pentoxifylline, Simvastatin, Omeprazole, Ramipril, Codeine Phosphate, Peptic Antacid, Furosemide, Clobetasone cream, Daktacort cream, Corticosteroid cream, Paracetamol. Hope I’ve not missed anything off. Just in case they see me, I’ll put it in my pocket now while I think of it.
The timer chirped, and I made my way down once more to the laundry room, to collect the clothing.
Clothes out and folded into the bag. Filter cleaned, drum wiped and a failed attempt to clean up the bits off of the floor.
The old brush just would not shift the bits of whatever they were.
To the lift and up to the twelfth floor.
Got the attire put away.
Back on the computer updating this blog.
I thought I heard that whining noise that seems to appear sometimes, from outside. Had a look out of the kitchen window, but could see nothing. I’ve got noises in the head now? Haha!
Went to make another brew. Taking the Nigel Neuralgia and Duodenal Donald’s hassling with me, of course. Tsk!
Porcelain Throne session next. Far less messy evacuation this one, no bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the Fungal Lesion bled only a tiny bit.
I moved to finalise the Saturday post. Then on CorelDraw to do some advanced page top graphics. Got three done and filed away. Readied things for the bus ride and hobble to the Health Centre.
One last shot from the kitchen window. Just because the scene looked so beautiful.
Black bags dropped down the waste chute on the way out.
The place was busy this morning. Plant machines were locating, delivery lorries queuing, chaps setting off up into the sky in the external hoists, men out directing the traffic, as the incoming trucks had blocked the outgoing cars and vans from getting along Chestnut Walk in their bid to get out.
I got to the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Stabsgefreiteress Wardens Temporary HQ, WC, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisational Area, Telling Inchcock-off Zone, Crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room, hut. Where I asked Warden Deana if she would be kind enough to ring the NHS Drop-In centre for me. She obliged me, bless her cotton socks. I was advised to call and see them. Thanked Deana and went to the bus stop. Cyndy, Penny, Doris, Roy and Welsh William were having a good chinwagging concourse, with much laughing to boot.
The other residents all agreed that I looked ‘Pasty’ and pale. Got on the bus with Penny and had a jolly decent, enjoyable natter en route.
I got off the bus early, and, with Penny’s best wishes I set off on a walk to the NHS, although I wasn’t exactly too sure which was the optimum route to take to get to it.
The distant white building in the middle centre of this photographicalisation was identified as my objective.
So, off I set taking a direct route. At least I thought I had. Hehe!
As I walked along Lower Parliament Street, an ambulance shot over the lights on red.
There were no stop-Go lights for pedestrians at this junction. Took me a while to get across to the other side of them. I realised if I carried on the way I was going, it would take me a bit of time to get around the buildings and double back to the Health Centre.
I notice a chap walking in front, and he took a shortcut down a road, and I followed him best I could.
I lost him, of course, or instead, he was too fast for me. Haha!
The beige Citroen car is where I turned to chase after the man to see if I could cut-through to the Drop-In centre.
I crossed the road where the car was, and almost laughed out loud when I saw who he had got a mannequin, model or poster of, in the back seat.
Hehehe!
I saw the chap in the far distance, and he too was going to the NHS building. I had to climb a bit of rough ground to get into the apparently vacant field.
Walked through and somehow got over the fence at the other end, and found I was within 50 yards of the building’s entrance door. Good Stuff!
I got in and reported to one of the ladies on the desk. She had taken the call from Warden Deana earlier. Told me to sit and wait for my name to be called out, which I did.
Always the same isn’t it? The stabbing pains in the face ear and neck all eased off, as I got the crossword book out and awaited my being summoned. Tsk!
A nurse came out and fetched me into a room. She interrogated me about my condition and details etc. In the nicest possible way. She also said I looked a little drained. And, here was me thinking I felt okay. Haha! She sent me out to the waiting area, telling me someone would call me into another room. I’d barely got the crossword book out, and another Angel of Mercy fetched me into her room. Doing well, now, eh?
This gal went into deep detail and referred to my information on the computer each time I gave an answer to her many questions. She did an ECG I think that’s what it is called. Blood Pressure, temperature, checked the teeth, no problems. Looked into my eyes, Brave gal! Checked both earholes. Then the throat. Thiswasthe only concern she shown. Very red in there, apparently? After a lengthy investigation, she declared she’d no idea what my problem was, but said it needed looking into, and I must make an appointment with my Doctor without delay.
I thanked her and departed. Now, I’m not sure if it was what folks had been saying about my looking sickly all morning; But, as I began the hobble into town, I then started to feel weak and unwell, but not really poorly. Lightheaded, vague, and a few memory blanks. If you know what I mean?
Then, the stabbing pains returned in the neck, spreading further down this time. But they stopped again within an hour or so, afterwards. No dizzies, though, I was confused now.
I had a slow, steady walk to the sad soon to be closed down Broad Marsh shopping mall. I called in the Heron Food store, Mistake that! I came out having spent a good few quid again. Got a small packet of strong-mature cheddar cheese. A bottle of sterilised milk. Two packs of smoked back bacon for only £1.50. Some pork scratchings to go in with the nibbles-box for the Social Hour. Bottle of malt vinegar and they had some of the biscuits they name Shorties. Not had any for months now, so being as they were also on Special Offer, I got a few packets.
Not really confident of what I did when I came out of the shop; but must have made my way into the City Centre, cause I had no end of photographs of Nottingham Pavement Cyclists on the SD card I found later.
Can't recall where I took t his one - Canal Street perhaps?
Queen Street
Had a walk around the streets in search of some wholemeal oven-bottom-muffins. But I could not find any at all anywhere. Ah-well!
Made my way to Queen Street, but with the mind being a little confused today, I got the timing wrong and had missed the L9 bus. Shlemiel!
I caught a 40 bus instead. It is longer to walk to the flats from the bus stop, and crossing the road on the hilly bend can be a bit dodgy. But, the bus gets there quicker with it taking a less circuitous route.
On Sunday there was a stabbing in Victoria Mall. As the bus drove past the entrance to the shopping centre, two ambulances were taking three patients away. I wonder what had taken place?
Dropped off on Winchester Street and got over the road without any bother.
The view as I walked down towards Chestnut Walk, was breathtaking, I thought.
The wind was getting up, mind.
As the complex came into sight, I took a shot of the complex with a close-up of some of the lads on a hoist against Winchester Court.
As I walked past the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Flats, Unterscharführeress Wardens Temporary HQ, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Shed, Telling Inchcock off Zone, Things like crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room, Warden Julie knocked on the window to get my attention. She asked how things had gone at the Health Centre. I thanked her for inquiring.
Made my way to the flat, feeling a bit steadier now. Got the Health Checks were done and the pork ribs in the oven cooking. Put a tine of BBQ beans in a saucepan with some Texa cooking sauce. After 25 minutes I added these to the tray with the pork to cook off.
Rang Sister Jane to tell her about today’s medical meanderings.
She rang back later while I got the mess sorted out where I’d dropped the tomatoes on the floor. We had a chinwag, and she informed me of her friend in the hospital and was struggling. Apparently, she had fallen in her garden and had remained there for four days! Poor thing!
Updated this blog, it took a long time with the concentration not being right, but hey, I’m still here to lose my attention. Hahaha!
Got the meal sorted and served up in the oven tray it was finished off roasting in. A little less to wash up. Haha!
Mega-delicious. Top taste-rating ever think this one, 9.45/10!
Got the TV on and all ready to watch England’s first game of the tournament.
What an emotional ride this was too!
The referee was incompetent. Tunisia’s defence tactics at free-kicks and corners seemed to be to get tangled with England forwards and tie them up so they could not get to the ball?
Glad we won in the end, but this indeed wasn’t a masterpiece, more of a farce!
Neuralgia Nigel was with me from here on, but far less activity in the electric-shock-like stabbing pains than earlier and yesterday.
The mind rambled on drifting from on fear to another. Sleep was resisting me, again. Tsk!
0355hrs: Immediately on my expergefaction, I noted that everything in my immediate vicinity was dishevelled or messy, like it had been rummaged through, and tossed aside?
I felt, and almost heard the borborygmus rumblings, and the innards churned.
The pain from the sharp-stabbing otalgia in the right earhole was cruel and painful.
I felt confused as I investigated around me visually:
The quilt was on the floor under my feet, that was on the front Ottoman.
A nibble pot with the lid off had toppled to the floor during the night and rolled across the carpet, spilling its contents all over.
Several empty cheese Curl packets were in the waste bin.
I could see that one slipper was over in the corner near the balcony window, showing from under the curtains?
The pencil and notepad were squashed between my over-ample belly handles and the £300 second-hand recliner arm.
Several screwed up kitchen towels scattered around.
I could not locate my spectacles or hearing aids.
The picker-up stick was actually half on my knee, with the other end having an empty biscuit packet hanging on it. Crumbs all over the place
I had an inspirational thought (Snigger!): This is not good! Haha!
The thoughts and self-questioning, analysis solution seeking flowed: However did this nebech, get himself in such a pickle? How? Why and what had caused these noctambulistic activities What for? Whatever had I been doing? Why can I not recall any actions that may have been the cause of the damage? What was to blame for my apparent noctambulism?
Finally, I decided I will have to escape from the £300 second-hand recliner and get the place sorted out.
As I stood up, on the crumpled quilt at my feet – Crunch!
I’d found my spectacles.. and crushed them underfoot on the quilt! Bent the frames and out popped both of the lenses. Grumble, moan in annoyance at my stupidity, ineptitude, and the futility of my even trying to adjust my impotence of mind control.
I didn’t want to cry, but the self-loathing/flagellation and disgust showed its head.
I spent ages clearing things up. Ending up with an earache, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, borborygmus agony and Duodenal Donald all enjoying themselves at progressing my pain levels. Tsk!
I got the black bags of rubbish filled, I have three already to go to the chute, but it is too early yet, because of the noise disturbing other tenants as they travel down the chute.
I tended to the Health Checks. Recorded and updated the results on Excel. Thanks to my cyber friend Tim helping me out with the formulas.
This morning’s HC results were almost exactly the same as yesterday’s were. Not bad at all I thought.
Made a brew and took this photograph, imbibed the medications and took an extra Codeine 30g, to try and counter the pains from Duodenal Donald and the worst of them all at the moment, the earache! They are positively affecting my concentration today.
As I was making a start on updating the Saturday Diary, I was forced to redirect my attention to the Porcelain Throne. Not an easy evacuation I’m afraid. It seems things have gone from being under the control of Trotsky Terence for a week or more, to find that Diahorrea Duncan was not taking over. A fair bit of bleeding to clean-up. The passing was accompanied by a few ‘Oohs’ ‘Arghs’ and ‘Jykuglamations’ in encouragement for something to move. Hahaha! Being sat there for such a long time, the mind began to wander off on its own course fretting and considering various incidents and hopes. But it kept returning to the job at hand, the much awaited painful evacuation, and the stabbing pains from the allodynia on my right side. These are really painful and persistent at the moment, I wonder what has caused this to come on so suddenly? It feels to me that it is coming from the otitis media part of the auditory meatus. None stop it is now, piercing stabbing pains. It is almost as bad as Duodenal Donald’s botherations, but then again it is something of a new ailment to me. Letters of sympathy and cuddles will be gladly accepted. I thank you. Hehehe!
I got back to updating the Sat post. Using my old glasses, of course, was a bit of a strain. Got it finished off and posted.
Made a start on this blog. Got as far as this, and the earache seemed to be getting worse. I went to the wet room to try putting some Phorpain gel on the area.
Found that the neck, jaw, and chin had reddened a smidge and the full cheek had swollen up. The nearer to the actual tab-hole was the only tender to touch area. Oh dear! Guess it might be something else other than an earache? This bothered me a little. So I looked it up on the internet. I think it is, or might be Trigeminal Neuralgia. Because all the symptoms on the three sites I visited, match those I have. A definite must, if it stays with me, that is, for me to make an appointment to see the Doctor on Monday. Too many simultaneously unpleasant ailments to cope with at the moment, this one I can do well without. Dare not take any more extra painkillers, but I may be forced to, in an effort to ease off these stagging electric-shock-like pains. It didn’t work!
I remembered I had not made up a food delivery for next week, so I did one while I thought of it. Accompanied by some tuneful drilling from the flat above. With card changes since my last Iceland order, finding the details required, etc., it took me yonks to get this done. I’m not using Morrisons this week, because of all the silly substitutions they are making recently.
The neuralgia (If indeed it is this ailment) in constant attention, like a sadistic natured companion desperately in need of inflicting unremitting excruciating agony, and getting satisfaction from it!
Made a mug of tea and decided to try the Phorpain gel on the cheek and neck, out of desperation. Poor old Bish Mazal, shlimazel!
Tried to go on Facebook again. It has not been remarkably stable since the last Windows updates came in. Just got going and Sister Jane Rang for a chinwag. But it hard to understand her on her mobile, very tinny and echoey. But, it might be the neuralgia that is making my hearing change? Anyroad, we had a good natter. I must phone JAne back in the morning if the faceache has got better and do not go to the drop-in centre after-all. Then Pete can call to see me.
Did the next week medicine pots up, and made a mug of tea.
Back to updating this post.
The Virgin Internet went down. Not for long, but long enough to lose the settings on WordPress again.
Oy Vey!
Got a graphic done for the TFZer site, and posted it off. Hope Nancy and the others like it.
Got the fodder served-up.
Grand it was, too.
8.8/10, Enjoyment Rated.
Tried to watch some of the football, but the teams were of no interest to me, and concentration was impossible with Duodenal Donald and Nigel Neuralgia both pestering me persistently.
Many clangs, clumps, thuds and knocks from the flat above kept me company. He’d started late today. Nice break earlier.
0440hrs: I woke several times during the short period of three hours, from when I eventually managed to nod-off, and now. Memories (No notes found) of a dream were pretty lucid, I scribbled some reminders straight away. And drew a depiction of the ghosts and ghouls, that in the nightmare, had been blocking my access to the wet room and use of the Porcelain Throne! I manoeuvred my short fat body from the £300 second-hand recliner, had a wee-wee of long duration and got the computer on, and CorelDraw opened, then made the graphic-up on top of this page. Nothing like the actual dream images of course, but the theme was right. Hehehe! I did not feel trepidatious in the least about this dream, but found it humorous, even when the paramnesia was in full flow, I think.
Having woken up in such a different fashion to normal this morning, I’m pleased to report that the mind-wandering, and yonderly off on its own accord machinations, did not take place. I felt rather calmer than usual as well. Why; I don’t know.
Off to the Porcelain Throne, and more good news. Trotsky Terence had eased off, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids had not bled at all overnight. Worries me this good news, it is unnatural for me. Humph! Hehe!
Cleaned up and off to the kitchen to make a brew and do the Health Checks.
The high winds of yesterday had steadied now. The tree copse looked so beautiful to me, in the half-light in its peaceful surroundings.
The disconcertment, fretfulness, and fear I would usually go through in the morning did not appear. For this I was grateful, but I did contemplate as to why this was happening. There is no rest for an uneducated mind that has an eminently high EQ, and the lowest of IQs. Life can be a bummer, but still, not to worry. (If only that were possible!) Chutzpah is something I lack. If it is worryable about or over, I’m yer man to do this. Worra Yutz I am!)
Did the Health Checks, applied the creams and lotions and took the medications.
I think the slight increase in the Sys and Dia results are well within range.
Made a start on this diary.
0720hrs: A few seconds of banging about from above. But of course, I am not complaining, just mentioning it. No point in my is risking Nottingham City Homes getting upset with me again, for moaning about their favourite can-do-no-wrong tenant making a noise. As the Management, told me; He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. I don’t want to lose my home.
I got caught up to here, and then went to update and get the Saturday post-sent-off.
Finally got it finished, and only one comment to reply to, I went on the WordPress Reader. Really was some good stuff on there today. I spent over two hours of enjoyable reading.
1100hrs: I put the France v Australia match on the TV and put the headphones on to listen while I got on with computerisationing. Haha!
Big John Herbert has been unnoisy for ages. Silent? He might have gone out. Either way, Thank You, Big John.
I decided to get some diary drafts made up in advance, started making the page top graphics on CorelDraw first.
I diverted to trying to get the Excel book for the INR readings updated with the formulas that Tim Price gave me. It took a while, many faffles, failures and frustrations. But, I got it right. Phew! Thanks, Tim.
Back to CorelDrawing.
12.15hrs: The crappy pathetic FIFA referee and the idiots monitoring the VAR replay, have just given France a penalty! UNBELIEVABLE! The tackling Aussie got the ball and momentum followed through, only the slightest of touches anyway. Wrong! I want to call the cheating animals a naughty rude, wicked name, I’ll do it mentally.
Ah, 1218hrs. And, the referee has given the Australians a penalty, which was clearly a foul in the box. VAR consulted again. YES, he scored!!!!!! Partial Justice! ‘Cause the first one was never a penalty – Shoot the Ref! as we used to shout in my supporting Forest days.
I put the big spud in the oven to bake.
Back to Coreldraw again.
1138hrs: SHIT! France scored! VAR confirmed. Humph! They’ve dived and cheated to get the penalty and got away with it too!
Back to CorelDrawing.
Dog-nabbed Frenchies have won the match. By cheating, diving and most likely bribing the officials. After this, I think they might well go a lot further than folks thought. I hope when they meet Russia, they get thrashed and annihilated!. Grumph! They should have listened to De Gaulle and not let us into Europe, then they would not be blocking Brexit and generally being nasty to us! The Gits! Oh, I got a bit carried away there. Sorry!
Now they have lost the picture on BBC1. Fancy that.
Back to CorelDraw again.
Oooh, the potato needs cheesing and putting back in the oven, I’ll do it now.
Got the nosh prepared and served up.
I think that Herbert must have gone out, the noises don’t seem to be being made. Mind you, that could be something to do with me having the headphones on and hearing aids, out?
This nosh earned a 9.35/10 Taste-Bud rating.
I washed the pots and got settled down to watch the next football match on the goggle-box.
An attack from Dizzy Dennis was not too bad balance-wise, but it stayed with me for ages.
Did the Health Checks and had many wee-wees over the next few hours. Whatever I was trying to watch on the TV did not make its way into the brain, Dennis was in charge now.
I did manage many nod-offs of varying lengths, and recall I had a dream about me visiting a country cottage on my old motorbike, and someone darning my socks and dying them a different colour? There was a dog a lady and a man in the room, and we laughed so much.
I hoped that I could have got back to that dream, but of course, I couldn’t. Hehe!
0405hrs: Stirred into a semi-conscious state, then awoke to find my legs and torso precariously spreadeagled over the £300 second-hand recliner, an empty mineral water bottle, my reading spectacles, two empty Cheese Curl packets, a pen and pencil, the partly screwed up notepad and a tipped up waste-bin scattered around on the floor?
One night-sock partly on, the other, I have yet to find. Got the camera from the Ottoman and took these photographs.
The legs and ankles were in a right state: blemishes, scratches, blood blisters, bruises and pot-marks in abundance.
I had a few moments without moving, uhtcearing about how and why I found myself in this condition this merry morning. What the heck had I been doing in the night!
Then I spotted that the right shin was somewhat sticking out as if it was bent or broken. Yet no pain came from the tibia area at all. The bone looked like it had gone all misshaped.
I was aware that the edema in the limbs had gone down a lot.
Ah, well, such is life.
As I started manoeuvering myself carefully and most circumspectly out of the £300 second-hand recliner, the need for a wee-wee abruptly arrived. So, I weaved my through the evening’s flotsam and jetsam on the floor, to the wet room. The short-sharp wee-wees I’ve been having recently had come to an end. I spent so long at the bowl: I wished I’d not taken the book out of the room last week: I could have read a few chapters by the time the flow stopped. Hehe!
Back to the main room, and carefully, taking my time, I cleared up the melee of a mess from the floor without making any noise, so as not to disturb the neighbours this early in the day.
To the kitchen made a brew and did the Health Checks. While on the sphygmomanometer, I was forced to stop and nip back for another marathon wee-wee. Oh, dear!
If this keeps up, I’ll become a ‘Micturate Marathoner’. Haha!
By when I got back, the tea had gone cold!
Got the Health Checks finished and started on updating the Thursday Diary, eventually getting it posted off.
After another long wee-wee, I got on with this post.
0725hrs: Noises, like something heavy being dropped, emanated from the flat above. But of course, I am not complaining, just mentioning it. No point in me risking getting put-down and another telling off from the Nottingham City Homes Management for saying about the noise, like they did a couple of months ago. As they told me; He is doing nothing wrong, just following his hobby of model making. I don’t want to lose my home, even if it noisy. Or do I?
0800hrs: I got the ablutions tended to.
All spruced up and fresh now. I nipped up to Cyndy & Erics flat with the chocolate ice-cream that Morrison’s substituted and I foolishly accepted. I tried one, they were too sweet for me. They took them off of me, thankfully. Now today, if I can get some proper ice-cream cones from Asda, I’ll have room to get them in my freezer now. I must get to call on Jenny later, to find out if they need more of the crispy biscuit squares, yet.
I had decided to have a hobble through the bottom field and up through my beloved favourite Tree Copse. Then into Woodthorpe Grange Park down onto Mansfield Road, left over the hill and to the bus stop there. To catch a bus into town. Then catch a tram out to the Radford Asda (Walmart), to get some shopping in to make right the Morrison substitutions. Tsk!
Back to the apartment, had a long wee-wee again. I dropped a black bag down the rubbish chute with the new miniature opening on the way out.
Down and out, across Chestnut Walk and to the bottom of the gravel footpath up the hill.
I stopped to this photograph of the complex, that was busy with chaps putting the underlay on the walls on my block.
Then I poddled into the bottom field. Taking this photograph from the middle of it as I made my way painfully towards the Copse.
The feet and ankles were giving me some harrow pain by the time I’d gone a hundred yards.
Most disturbing, cause they stayed this way for the rest of the day. I was hobbling, limping and walking all funny. Puzzled as to why?
A little further into the field and I stopped to take this visualisation of the buildings.
There were no dizzy spells suffered at all though.
As I went into the path into the Copse, I turned and took another picture.
I was feeling rather good, apart from the poor plates-of-meat.
I was enjoying the weather and spent a long time pondering, looking at and admiring nature, especially inside the trees.
Into the Copse
Up the path
Out onto the park - Damned Cylist nearly had me!
Bootiful big tree near Mansfield Road in the park
Walked over the hill and down to the bus stop, and caught a Nottingham City Transport bus into the City Centre.
Not many folks about this morning, which surprised me. I had a good look to see if Policemen were about, but didn’t see any.
Across the Slab Square onto South Parade and caught a tram out to Radford.
Only a handful of passengers on the Pheonix Park bound transport.
At the next stop, near the Theatre Royal, this all changed. Dozens of students got on.
I alighted in Radford and limped to the Asda shop. I was in no hurry, and as the feet were hurting so much, I took an unhurried hobble around, stopping at most sections for a meander at what was on Special Offer.
Much later, I paid the lady on the till and had spent £25,51, Oh fool I am!
I came out with two bags full of shopping. Consisting of: a pack of six ice-lollies, two boxes of four Ice-cream cones, a box of English Strong Breakfast, and Assam tea bags (They were on offer). Biscuits and chocolates for the nibble-box. A pork pie. An orange chocolate bar. Bag of fresh pod peas. A tin of curried beans. A turnip. Seasoned potato slices. Sea salt and lemon flavouring But I’ve forgotten what I was going to use them with. Klutz!. Cheese Curls and some Balsamic and onion flavour crisps on offer, for Jenny and Frank, to try.
As I left the store, a bit of an altercation was taking place. I moved out of the way as fast as the weight of the bags would let me.
I shouldn’t need any food over the weekend now.
The feet really were even worse now, as I made my way to the tram stop.
The carriages were cram-packed this time, but a young lady and man moved to the side-saddle sets to allow me to sit in a higher off the ground seat. Bless em!
It all worked out very well timing wise. I got off the tram at the Theatre Royal stop and made my way to Queen Street, and an L9 arrived a few minutes later.
A couple of other tenants got on en route.
When we got back to the complex, I had further pleasurable chinwags. Then made my way back to the apartment, having a laugh with Roy and Tony. Between us, we made a right mess of controlling the lift, Hahaha!
Roy initially got us in the cage, in order, that we should have needed to get off. Roy had a carton of something that Tony bad purchased and had put it on top of his lethal four-wheeled shopping trolley. When we got to the 6th floor (Tony’s), he lifted the bo off of the shopper and caught a floor button, and we moved to the 8th floor. So Tony had gone up with us to my 12th floor, then Roys 14th, then back down… I’m all confused now. Hehehe!
Anyway, they were both still in the lift when I got off and bade my farewells.
I got in and this time, had a short wee-wee.
Washed up and got the purchases stored away.
Did the Health Checks and took the medications.
I could hear the sub-contractors for the rest of the day, as they applied the underlay on the walls, ready for the cladding to be used later.
I went to take off my day clothes and get into the jammies, and doctor the plates of meat.
Several of the lasses and lads were outside working on the hoists, so I left the day clothes on. Hehe!
I got on with updating this blog.
Realised that two World Cup matches were on TV today. So I turned on the Uruguay v Egypt match to watch while I was using the computer.
Half-time now.
I got the oven for the potatoes.
I wish I could ease the agony of the feet and ankles. I tried the Arthritis pain gel and took an extra Codeine.
Trying the pain gel was a bad mistake! Talk about sting! Flipping worse than ever now. Nebekh!
Then got the nosh sorted.
Watched the match Egypt v Uraguay, I thought Egypt played well, while I was eating this okay meal. An 8.9/10 taste rating given to it.
Changed channels from one match to another. Morocco v Iran, then moved over channels to watch Portugal v Spain. The best of the games I thought.
By now it was well past my head-down time, and I could not get to sleep for hours. I resolutely told myself this must not happen again and swore I would not stay up late to watch football again, until the first England game. I’ll probably regret that. Hahaha!
Mind you, tomorrow the France v Australia game should be worth a look. Just in the hopes that the French might lose. That would be marvellous if Australia could put one over on them… I can dream. Hehe!
0025hrs: Still praying for sleep to come to visit me.
0325hrs: Woke in the middle of a cracker of a dream. I was in a vast deep cuniculus underground cave, filled with stalactites and stalagmites. With people I have known and loved all around me, each singing a different song. People from the 1950’s to the present, and all so happy and smiling at each other. I was enjoying that image too, shame it had to end.
I removed my body-mass from the £300 second-hand recliner without any problems, no dizzies, no toe stubbing either, and off to the WC for a short, sharp painful wee-wee. Washed the dandies and to the kitchen to get the Health Checks done.
After yesterday’s welcome sharp rise in the Sys, it had slowly sunk down again in a worrying fashion. From 167 to 154, to 140 and this morning to 124?
I had to nip to the Porcelain Throne in a bit of a rush, but no risk of any Whoopsiedangleplops, I got there in plenty of time.
Evacuated with no problems too.
There was no bother or excessive pain from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Duodenal Donald, I could tell was going to be unhappy later on, all the signs were there. The pressure under the sternum, and the vague almost delicate twinklings of pins and needles from within; all indicators of future pain. Hehe!
The arm looked a bit patchy from yesterdays blood taking. No pain or itching now, though.
Overall, today was a lot better than yesterday’s scary waking up with the mind all jumbled and confused, and agitated.
Feeling much more peaceful. Calmer and more relaxed this morning. Then again, wait until the Whoopsiedangleplops arrive. Hahaha!
I got this blog updated to here, then updated and finalised the Wednesday diary.
I tried two pieces of the chocolate I bought as a treat for myself yesterday.
Not my kettle-of-fish at all. Far too sweet and sickly tasting. I’ll give it away later at the Social Hours at the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Stabsgefreiteress Wardens Temporary HQ, WC, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Area, Telling Inchcock off Zone, Crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room. Hehe!
0630hrs now.
The weather is looking dull. There was a strong, but warm wind when I took this photograph out of the kitchen window.
I decided to get the ablutions tended to, to make sure I was ready when the Morrisons much-amended order arrives between 0800hrs and 0900hrs.
An Email informs me that they have made several substitutions again.
I was going to send the cheese puffs back but thought I could use them as nibbles for the Social Hour.
0655hrs: Into the wet room and started the ablutionalisationing session.
0745hrs: All washed, shaved, showered and medicated, I got the raffle prizes, and nibbles sorted and into the bag. Took the rubbish bags to the waste chute, returned and made a brew. Back onto updating this diary again.
Went on WordPress reader page.
By Jiminy, it’s windy out there now. The poor old tree copse is being blown mercilessly to the right, then back again to the left minutes later.
I will try Facebook to see if it would let me in and work this time.
The Morrison chap arrived. Nice bloke, carried the delivery to the kitchen for me, bless him.
I got the fodder put away, and the substitutions along with the cakes into the bag to take to the Social Hour.
The freezer and fridge are once again nice and full. The freezer is chocker-block.
I went to transfer these pictures to WordPress.
There was one hell of a bang from upstairs. I think the gentleman above had dropped something, right above my head. I resisted any temptation to bang back on the ceiling. I remembered he is pampered and adored by the Nottingham City Homes Management, who told me I would have to live with the noise because he is only following his model-making hobby and is doing nothing wrong.
And I don’t want to lose my flat because of one resident being noisy. And know there is no point in my making any argument about the upset the constant daily noises and worse at the weekends are causing to my mental health. Ruining my concentration and waking me up. Because it would get me nowhere. I would undoubtedly be blamed for sleeping at the wrong times, despite my illness causing me to fall asleep. He is obviously King of the Castle. Frustrating and annoying, but there you are. I must try to keep calm and not seek revenge or retaliation at all costs. Tsk! I know my place, at the bottom. Haha!
I tried to go on Facebook. But, it was sticky, so I’ll try again later if I have not fallen asleep.
Got everything I thought I’d need, including the hearing aids and set off.
The winds were howling, but as earlier, they were not cold ones at all. In fact, I had my sleeveless jacket on and the shirt sleeves rolled-up.
The Willmott-Dixon compound was looking busy. I was glad to see that they had not sent any of the lads up on the hoist to work while the winds were so rolled-up.
I met BJ as I was walking to the Social Hut. When I got inside, there were many more residents, than usually attend. Lynne told me it was Frank’s birthday. The tables were all pulled together, and they had filled them with cakes, salads and all sorts of treats.
After I put the raffle prizes on the trolley, had a chinwag with Lynne, Deana, then Jenny. I got seated and gossiped and harkened to all that was going on. Much happiness and gaiety took place in their this morning.
Cyndy and Margaret made me laugh a few times, bless ’em!
Jenny, bless her, took the nibble box around for me.
I was doing well healthwise until I felt a problem down below. I had no choice than to leave early. So as to get back to the home and stop, clean and medicate the bleeding. Shame, because I was so enjoying myself as well. Humph! It had to be a quick getaway, I hope they didn’t think I was being rude.
I made as quick a time as I could, made the plates-of-meat sting a bit. Got to Woodthorpe Court through the lobby and had to wait for the lift.
So I took this photo of the information board as I urged the lift to hurry down. Hehe!
Got up and into the flat dropped the bag and into the wet room, post haste.
The fungal lesion had bled far less than it felt it had, but enough for me not to feel guilty about leaving the festivities at the Social Hut. It took a fair while to stop the flow, but all was sorted, cleaned up and medicated. Changed into a new pair of PPs.
Made a brew and got on with updating this blog.
Sister Jane rang. She advised she had spoken with Peter in Hong Kong, and he was doing alright.
The gentleman upstairs increased the volume of his clattering about, but not for long. Not complaining, of course, just mentioning it. He’s doing nothing wrong in following his hobby. Nottingham City Homes Management says so.
I went in to make a fresh brew for the one that had gone cold and take the medications and do the Health Checks. Sys and pulse were still very low. Took an extra Codeine 30g, to counter Duodenal Donald’s niggling stabbing pains.
As I made the nug of tea, the closed windows were not half letting in some wind. Twas then I realised that both windows had closeable flap-vents above them. So I closed one of them. Rado Nottingham said the winds will ease later in the day – I hope they are right. Brrr! Haha!
Caught up to here on the updating, and went back to Facebooking, with crossed fingers that it would let me work on it this time.
Continued with Facebooking.
I think it sounds as if the winds must have dropped, although it doesn’t look like it to me. The noises of drilling seem all around?
Back to trying to concentrate on Facebook and the medical emails.
A bit late now I know, but I went to make a TFZer graphic for the Facebook page.
More banging about from above. Not complaining. of course, just mentioning it. He’s doing nothing wrong in following his hobby. Nottingham City Homes Management says so.
I got two TFZer graphics done. Lona and Sandie with their MG cars.
Got a very early for me, nosh prepared. A delightfully tasting one, too.
Hand this effort an 8.5/10 taste rating.
Washed the pots and did the Health Checks.
Off says a wee-wee.
Settled down to watch the first match of the World Cup. Russia v Saudi Arabia. This match brought back old memories of FIFA unfairness.
Mighty big Russians v Diddy Saudi Arabians. Hehe!
Despite the scoreline, the midget Saudis never gave up, and I though they To brave and skillfull, especially in the first half.
Stalin would have been proud of the Ruskies performance all the same.
FIFA referee mistakes:
Frank Lampard’s disallowed goal: Germany v England, 2010.
Italy’s Fabio Grosso’s Dive: Getting a penalty in Italy vs Australia match in 2006.
Rudi Voller’s dive: West Germany vs Argentina 1990.
South Korea’s golden fortune at the 2002 World Cup: First, Damiano Tomassi’s legit goal, which would have been the Golden goal, was disallowed. Moments later Totti was sent off for simulation although replays suggested that he had lost his footing. Then, the Koreans went on to win the match through a controversial penalty given by the Ecuadorian referee Byron Moreno for a Christian Panucci tugging offence.
Diego Maradona’s “hand of God”: Argentina v England, 1986.
Geoff Hurst’s ‘Phantom Goal’: England vs West Germany 1966.
All were in favour of the host Nation.
Just thought I’d mention it, like.
Sleep did not come easily, not until well gone midnight. The mind was rampaging with free-for-all tussles, thoughts of a backward induction and abductive searches for an answer to my fears, worries and addiction problems. My pathological indecisiveness did not help.
0300hrs: After failing to get to sleep with all the hassle last night, I did, in the end, get off into the land of Nod, but woke with a start, in imperative need of the utilisationing of the Porcelain Throne. Hehe!
The Fungal Lesion had been bleeding a good bit. But, the evacuation was a lot better and less messy this morning.
While doing my duty, analytic self-reasoning with cognitively biased thoughts rumbled through the grey-cells as I sat uncomfortably and nervously on the loose plastic toilet seat, for the exodus. These reflections and considerations brought no conclusive results. But, they rarely do!
Washed-up and into the kitchen to do the Health Checks.
Cor-blimus! I’ve been hoping that the Sys does not go any lower, and hey-presto, it shoots right up this morning? Wonder if last night’s hassle with the phones and lack of sleep again, affected this?
Got the Tuesday Diary finalised and posted off to WordPress.
Took me until 0800hrs to get this achieved.
Ablutions tended to and enjoyed. Medicationalisticalisationing completed. As I turned off the computer, some more Windows Updates came in. What these will do to or change in my machine this time, is vexing.
One rubbish bag was taken to the chute on the way out. Down the elevator and out into the welcoming sunshine and fresh breeze, and started a gentle stroll along Chestnut Walk, nearly got hit by a car coming from behind, and realised I had no got my hearing aids in. Klutz!
I returned to the flat and put the hearing aids in. Huh!
Back out again.
I hundred yards or so beyond the Nottingham City Homes, soon to named, Winwood Heights Flats, Unterscharführeress Catwalk Modelling Wardens Temporary HQ, Willmott-Dixon workers breakfast and tea-break room, Sarcasm & Insult distribution area, Tenants Socialisation Shed, Telling Inchcock off Zone, Things like crockery and pottery to be stolen from, and residents room; I turned and snapped this photographicalisation. I photo’s it to show the incredible growth of the Chestnut Trees. From this angle, they now obliterated the view of all three buildings.
Making my way down the Winchester Street hill, I had a Dizzy Dennis attack near the garages as I neared the bus stop shelter.
No bother, this time, it had evaporated within a minute or so. Not that it didn’t concern me at first, all okay now.
I hobbled steadily down to Mansfield Road. Where the closed businesses on either side of the roadway, was a disheartening sight.
As I plodded on up the hill towards Carrington, two unmarked silver ARVs shot towards by with blues and twos on. Two minutes later another ARV sped by. Two minutes later as I was going down the hill towards the surgery, two marked cars did the same. Next, a single marked police vehicle went by.
I stopped to take these shots of some bees in the flowers.
One bee looked like he was wearing a splint on his left back leg. Hehe!
Then yet another marked police car shot towards the town. Lights and siren on, he cleverly weaved his way through the now dense traffic in Carrington.
Annoying, not knowing why, innit?
Getting through the parked vans on the pavement was a bit of a struggle for me.
But how anyone with a wheelchair, site-impaired or elderly with sticks or zimmer frame would have gone on?
Yet, I still felt sorry for the delivery drivers with their mission impossible tasks to get done.
I got to the Sherrington Park Medical Practice, with plenty of time to spare, and my general mood had brightened a bit by then.
Yet a different receptionist was on duty, again? I signed in with her and sat down, got the crossword book out and waited to be summoned.
No Nurse Nichole on duty, my spirits dipped down again.
When I got into Nurse Ann’s treatment room, I hastened to roll up my sleep and sat down ready for the blood to be taken. Bless her, the nurse did ask what was the matter with me, not gossiping, and can she do anything to help. I replied, no, thank you though.
I was soon tended to and then departed. I did not leave any nibbles as I usually would have done. I was peeved at getting yet another late appointment for the blood test, and in my current state of pathetic self-pity and wretched mood at all the failures and lack of help, I was unconcerned about this. I said my farewells as I left, but got no response.
Once outside in the clement weather, I limped into Carrington towards the Chemist shop. The chemist, who I called visited to make sure when to collect my monthly prescriptions and was told to call on Friday. Which I did, and was told to call back on Monday, which I did, and collected the medications, got home to find the two bottles of medicine were missing. So I called back on Tuesday to tell them, and they had none in stock, I was to call back on that Friday. Which I didn’t. I left it until today when I had to go out for the blood test anyway. So I’ve had about five days without the medications, and no one is interested.
The distress from Duodenal Donald and the Plates-of-meat, both currently giving me anguish and pain, along with the resentment at not being listened to about the noises I am living with, have created a new meaner me, today! And I don’t like him!
I got the bottles, thanked the lady and left, going to the Lidl store. Where I cheered up a little again. This is probably due to my emacity, or more precisely, my shopping addiction being satiated. I ended up on the self-serve tills, still, without any Whoopsies or errors made, and having spent over £20! But this did include £3-95 for a razor with 20 double bladed heads, little birthday pressies for some of the gals, radishes, tomatoes, raffle prizes. Some nibble box goodies and even a bar of dark chocolate and pack of ice-cream cones for myself. So, fair enough. Self-pity equates to self-indulgence! That was good, did I really say that? It could be used in an advertising campaign. Hehe!
Out of the store and to the bus stop. As you can see in this photograph, when I arrived at the bus shelter, I was the only person there. Moments later I was joined by five other prospective Nottinghamian passengers.
When the bus arrived, they all forced their way, well, four of them anyway, onto the bus ahead of yours-truly, leaving me getting on and no regular seats available.
I had to sit on one of the shallow pop-down side-saddle seats. This encouraged Arthur Itis to join in with Duodenal Donald and the Plates-of-meat in giving me some more hurt. Did I say this was an up and down sort of day emotionally for me? Oyvey!
I got off of the bus in Sherwood. With the two large bottles from the chemist and the purchases in the bag, walking was even more painful now. Poor thing, Haha!
I had a while to wait until the L9 bus was due, so I took a slow amble in the Sue Ryder shop, window shopping and nosing around. When I realised, I had someone following me and watching my every move, but he amateurishly looked away each time I glanced at him. A plain clothed store detective perhaps, or a possible mugger? Either way, I left the place sharpish… well, preferably at a steady hobble-pace. Hehe!
Poddled to the bus shelter. Roy and one or two other tenants joined the queue. When it arrived, I was the last to get on again, and stood up, near to Doris (I think that’s her name. A lovely lady that I have taken to!)
Back at the flats we get off the bus, greeted those getting on, and Roy went int[ the shed to use the W.C. Doris and I, with another chap tenant, made our way to the flats, having a good natter en route.
Got into the flat and had a wee-wee. Put the fodder away, and shelled some pod peas and got the min the saucepan on a low light.
I received another ‘Odd’ call that I could not understand the voice. I told them this, and they rang off. But they rang back again, I reckon I heard Chunky Chicken said? I rang off.
Got the computer on and it was a right mess, dead slow as well after the Windows update. I thought I’d try turning it off then back on. Then as I opted for close down, the message asked if I wanted to upload update then shut down… I’m fed-up with this, it was already past my head-down time
Rebooted and it was worse than ever. Slow, juddery and my Grammarly was not working, WordPress continues to swap everything to American -English and have to repeatedly go into setting to reset it… life ain’t good at the moment.
Sister Jane rang, I had not emailed her the diary. We had a chat, and I suddenly remembered the peas in the pan! I rang off quickly, explaining why to Jane. It was alright though, Phew! Then I sent the diary off to her, belatedly. Schlemiel!
Really feeling irritable now, with all the failures and things going wrong.
I updated this diary again, but it was slow. So I tried turning off and on again, which of course meant altering the setting again.
I got the chips in the oven, podded the peas and got them cooking.
Opened the can of the pork knuckle, and cut up on the plate ready. Sliced the gherkins and tomatoes prepared for when the chips were cooked.
Delightful nosh. A 9.1/10 rating given.
Around 1900hrs, the telephone rang, and fully expecting it to be one of the recent Asian voiced con-men telling me they were from some imaginary Computer centre.
I angrily fought my way out of the recliner and answered the phone with a rather sharp “Yes?” It was the doctor from the DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Clinic, who assess the INR blood level and Warfarin dosages, each week.
This is the first time in years that they have contacted me from the Hospital and shown any concern. The Doctor said she has decided to leave the dosage the same as last week, but was concerned about the INR content going down so rapidly, to 2.2 from 4.1 in a week. She thought I may have missed more than one night’s Warfarin as I put on the card. This could easily be possible with my memory. The equanimous lady questioned me about the new bruising, where they were, how long they lasted, did they itch and the colour of them, etc. This encouraged me to cheer up, someone showing care.
After I gave her my answers, she added: You must see your Doctor if you have any worries or concerns about the bruising or any excess bleeding or change in colour of any lost blood. I’m afraid I gave out a spur-of-the-moment ‘Phwert’ when she said see your Doctor. It was almost as if she knew about the advice I get given at my doctors; like “Keep an eye on it”, “What else can you expect”, “Others with far fewer ailments than you suffer the same symptoms…” etc.. She calmly said in a rather soothing voice: “Yes, I know!” I felt so appeased and grateful that someone really does understand.
I thanked her and wrote down the details.
I removed covering from the arm from the blood test earlier.
Nurse Ann had covered the little mole with the exterior plaster. It is now hanging by a tiny thin thread of flesh, ready to get pulled off and cause much-unneeded bleeding. Humph!
I went into the kitchen to get a drink of fresh orange juice, but it had all been used up. Good job, if it does arrive, the Morrison order has some on it for delivery tomorrow.
Got back down in the chair and with the minds racing away again, fretting, worrying etc., I was delighted when I found I went to sleep so soon, within minutes.
