05:00hrs: So, another waking up all the time, night. I’m fed up with these now! Still, it could be worse! Rose for a wee-wee, with both PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) and PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). A bit of a job to sort me and things out afterwards! Sorted the waste bags. Had another wee-wee. Put the kettle on to make a brew of Glengettie. I was going to get the ablutions done to freshen things up but thought being as I keep forgetting to do the Health Checks regularly, I do them first while it was in my memory-challenged mind. So, I did! The pulse was fine again, for five days on the trot now.
Although the NHC analyser had put me in the red area again, it was so close to the amber; I was content with the result this morning. But it would have been nice to see it in amber on the graph.
I’ve had some results in the greens over the past week, which is nice.
Got the ECG to go for tomorrow. I still can’t work out why I’ve had to have a blood test and now the ECG, as apparently demanded by the Mind Hospital; the appointment with them is not until January? Still, I’m glad I got one. Off to the wet room, I trotted with the clothing needed. I had to utilise the first. I could have made a marathon tale of what took place, but haven’t the time now. Suffice it to say nuggets, pain and pong. Somehow, I realise it now when typing this, but I forgot to clean my teeth again. (Fear of bleeding gums?) Then, having the shave did not go so well this morning. It was due mainly to , she’s been good lately to me as well, but her cunning timing today ensured that I gleaned many cuts of varying degrees from the razors. Now’t really serious, though. During the stand-up body wash, I needed two more wee-wees? No blasters; they were all of the SSAO (Sprinkly-Spraying-All-Over) variety. Got dressed (No socks, why risk injury using when your not going out?) And made a mug of Glengettie, and went onto the computer, to update the Monday blog. The Norton Virus started a check, and for once, I watched the progress. Confused me more than helped. I just can’t get my head around anything that is new or has changed. to blame? I’d let the tea go cold, so ventured into the kitchenette to get the kettle on again… Guess what? I’d left the hot tap running yet again. idiot, dumbo, twit… take your choice!
Still, I managed to take a couple of photographs that didn’t come out too bad. Not that that dissolved any feeling of guilt. Self-hatred, or simply feeling shame, at leaving the tap running.
l went back to the grind of blogging and making little progress other than to amend mistakes that I had made earlier on.
The tea went cold again! Back to make another, and the haze had cleared a little. Back with the brew to the front room.
I got the Lumix and took these to slightly clearer pictures through the glass on the balcony. Almost reluctantly, I got on with blogging. Because I was making such a mess of things, and I just carried in in the same way again, I’m not feeling too good here, as you may have noticed. Hehe!
Arrived, he was not looking too good at all. His ticker was racing, and he looked drained. This worried me, I asked if I should call an ambulance, but he said no. The poor lad was not food at all. The session was lost to my concerns, can’t be sure, but I think he helped me with the paperwork… I’m just not sure. I walked with him to the door and wished him well. If he turns up tomorrow, I’ll be surprised; I’m concerned for him.
That put the mockers on everything after that. Couldn’t concentrate on anything at all. I believe I had a turn myself then. Cause at around 14:30hrs, it was as if I woke up, wondering what I’d been doing. I vaguely remember Josie returning the plates and things. Not much else. The oven was on, with nothing in it. Which I put to rights and got some potato Rostis in it.
I burnt my right index finger on the oven! Doesn’t look much, but it hurts like hell! Can’t type now; the finger is so tender to touch for typing. Odd, that?
Going to have to try again later.
Wednesday updating of this post, from the scribble pad: Dementia Doreen is withholding the actual memories. So, not much detail, I’m afraid. Found this graphic in the diary file. Can’t recall making it? Dated for today, mind you?
I do recall this rather sad-looking meal that I made. Two sourdough baps, six potato-Rostis. A liberal portion of BBQ sauce for sipping into. And a pot of the soya lemon yoghourt. But I did enjoy it, and I spotted a scribbled 8.4/10 on the notepad. Which I assumed to be the taste rating given?
Must have some rain then.
Naturally, I was trying to watch a ‘Heartbeat’ episode again. I was soon woken up, though. Appeared, and we soon had the medications done. I was waffling again, Tsk! Went with her to the door (I know this because it was locked this morning). Carolynne took the waste bag with her, and I locked the door.
Tried to watch the second episode of ‘Heartbeat’. Zzz!
07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!
I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!
The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?
I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.
Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.
Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!
I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.
Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had
to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!
Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!
I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.
Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.
Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…
As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!
Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?
Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.
The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.
They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!
The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!
I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.
It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)
Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.
I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!
Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…
I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!
Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.
I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.
I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.
By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.
I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…
♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.
I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!
I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!
ODE TO PUTIN
Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear… Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?
Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier? Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister? He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier, The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!
I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do… But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew, I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear? He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear? What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do… He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!
We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” The naughty me won this argument, and I drifted off back into slumberland!
05:00hrs: I’d been having a bad dream, where I was being chased by a gang of armed, vicious, blood-thirsty hoodlums again, through demolished offices, I sprang awake. Passed wind violently, and the innards started churning and rumbling, and a tummy-ache of Defcon Two proportions kicked in. My immediate thought, was, is this through those damned pork and leek sausages I ate last night? They looked almost white, the skin was three or four times the usual thickness for wienerwursts, I was a bit doubtful about eating them at the time. But I think not, cause they were very mild with a delicate taste of leeks, any pork flavour had done a bunk.
I had no option other than to get my still aching from cleaning up the flood mess body, dragged off of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with some difficulty. Arthur Itis and Back-Pain-Brenda being the main culprits. Grabbed the stick, and wobbled to the wet room.
And to think that I thought yesterday’s last visit was a painful one! This was a painful one! I almost tired myself out with all the agonising force needed to get things through. But at least, the bleeding was no worse, and not a messy evacuation.
Washed, and off to make a brew and take the medications. Toothache Terence wasn’t too bad for once, so no extra painkillers were taken… of course, I’ll probably get a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, Dizzy Dennis spell, or Shaking Shaun attack and injure myself later, and end up taking one anyway. (Depressed? Lack of Confidence? Anxiety? Insecurity? Self-doubt?, Self-loathing? Nervousness? Defeatism? Negativity? Pessimism? Demoralised? Despondent? Melancholia? Me? Yes!)
I took a couple of snaps of the view outside. The mist was clearing, I just wish the fog of depression would go away from me.
On to the computer, and made a start on the updating of the Thursday post. It became a tad farcical, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were on and off, which meant it took me even longer than I expected. Saccades-Sandra kept making focussing difficult at times. But neither were consistent, they keep coming and going. This was getting to me today. Hours were lost in just correcting things done wrongly through the senseless fingers or Sandra’s blurring of vision. What with the floods that were my fault, the struggle to sort out food, not being considered at risk, so no food parcels, I fear that depression is coming over me again. Sickly, pathetic self-pity! Humph!
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section.
My usual heart and enthusiasm were not with me. I didn’t, couldn’t, seem to snap out of it this morning.
I checked the emails, I can’t work out if the virus situation is getting easier or not. Confirmed cases seem to be getting fewer. But, of course, there are millions of people who have not had any checks yet, so, if they check fewer patients, the figure will go down? And the deaths recorded are only those who died in a hospital. The hundreds who have died in care homes or their own home are not registered. According to the Guardian newspaper anyway.
Boy, I’m on a downer today!
I emailed the blog link and pressed on, stutteringly with this blog.
The landline tinkled and flashed. Sister Jane, who was out shopping, to get some eggs on Central Avenue in West Bridgford, rang me from the ‘Social Distance’ waiting queue! She said she was at number 18 on the list.
It really cheered me up a bundle, when I was informed that she and Pete had had there weekly freebie box of food delivered today. Fruits, canned goods, pasta, toilet rolls, vegetables, sauces, rice, cakes, bread etc., oh, I was pleased for them! I’m not complaining really (much!), I did get a loaf of bread and bottle of milk last week from the Nottingham City Council.
It seems I am not ill enough or do not have sufficient ailments for me to qualify as in need, for any food parcels. Nottingham County Council, give them out to fit people of the same age as me. Who are pools and lottery winners, have been left a fortune by unknown distant relatives, retired at 32, live in a mansion, on a tree-lined avenue, with a bus service at both ends of the road, car-owners as well! Luckily, this does not bother me. Hehehe!
Well, I might add something to the list of my ailments (Which are, Reflux Valve sticking, Mechanical Aorta Heart valve fitted, Duodenal ulcer, Hernia, Ever bleeding piles and awaiting a strangulation operation, Peripheral Neuropathy, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Ischemic stroke, given Clopidgrel in hospital and found to be allergic to it, but it’s in my bloodstream, and blotches, lumps on the ever-changing legs have to be contended with now. Dizzy spells every day, At risk for falls, Saccades, Thrombophlebitis, and Neurotransmitters dying(right side of my body) which makes walking and keeping balance very difficult. Deafness, Warfarin for life, Bladder cancer. And now Stuttering-Stephanie (along with the deafness) is making life and communicating a bloody nightmare at times!
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. Depressed? Me?
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk!
The mist had cleared. I took a photo of towards Nottingham. Then zoomed right in to try and get a decent shot of the high-rise student flats right in the distance (Near the centre of the panorama photo).
A lady Vapour was taking her three doggies for a walk. I tried to catch all three dogs with her in one shot, but the younger one was very lively. Hahaha! I did manage to get one chance.
Well, I wanted to do some more graphics, but Saccades and Nicodemus decided I shouldn’t.
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10.
I got it all slowly masticated and digested, got the washing-up done (Slow job).
The door chime rang out, and I stumbled to the door. It was Robert. Our caretaker, he’d kindly brought me a bottle of bleach. I think I must have mentioned to him on Wednesday, about not being able to get any. Kind of him. I ignorantly did not offer to pay for the bleach, I was half-out of things with Dizzy Dennis having a go at me at the time. Sorry, Robert, and thanks. Saved the day for me there!
Settled to watch some TV, got my head down a bit earlier today, in hopes of getting some sleep in for a change. (Oy vey!) The self-derogatory thought-Storming started almost straight away! On, and on they flowed. Eventually, and thankfully, I nodded off…
The landline rang and flashed, I struggled to get to the phone in time. I was the nice lady from the NCC Support Team. But Stuttering Stephanie came online, and the worst visit ever, I could hardly get words out, and when I did, the poor lady could not decipher them. Then said, “You don’t sound too well, I’ll ring you back later another day.” I thanked her, but then again, I think I thanked her and seemed to find myself back down on the recliner, with a blank period in between talking and getting sat down.
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up.
I spent hours, musing, thinking, Thought-Storming, and passing wind!
I moved at 04:20hrs: I’d woken at 04:00hrs. And spent ten minutes or so, trying to get the mind’s spark-plugs to spark, and the brain into first-gear.
I had irrational parts of the dream I’d been having confusing things. Eventually, semi-logical thinking returned and all memories of the dream dissipated into the ether. It helped clear my acrasia when the urgency for a wee-wee arrived. By the time I’d got up on the feet and grabbed the stick, the Porcelain Throne was needed too. So, off to the wet room.
Things did not go as expected, not by a long way. Colin Cramp’s, Constipation Conrad, and Hyrams Hyperkinesis made sure if that. The evacuation didn’t get anywhere near fruition, the sudden borborygmus, pains and discomfort from the innards were acute, and I spent ages waiting and hoping for some movement. I tried a bit of muscular encouragement to advance the proceedings, but paid for it with horrendous pangs, and stabs! In between the terrible-tribulations, I managed a wee-wee of sorts (An LSHH (Long-Sprinkly-Half-Hearted style).
By golly-gosh (Not the exact wording that I thought at the time), that non-event left me almost doubled up in agony. By the time I’d rose and washed, it had reduced to an annoying, persistent enteralgia.
The old veins in the Peripheral Neuropathic affected right leg were looking looked so very pretty this morning. Reminded me of worms wriggling up to the skin. Hahaha!
Off to the kitchen.
First thing, even before putting the kettle on (this shows the urgency, Hehe), I made a mug of Macrogol and took a Senna. Constipation Conrad has returned with a vengeance! The rumbling and grumbling from the innards continue unabated. Dangwangles, Discomforting, Damn, and Drat! Got the kettle on, and took the morning medications, and made a brew.
Got the computer on, and had a look at the calendar. Ah, a more relaxed day, hopefully. I could do with a little less hassle, and time to concentrate on some CorelDrawing and the diaries, maybe even find time to do an Ode?
Mind you, it might not get done, with me getting up so late. Still, it might have been dream-filled, but six-hours-kip was right-good for me.
I checked for any Coronvirus updates, figures-wise, but none for yesterday?
On the computer, accompanied by the gnawingly, grinding, churning from the protruding, midriff. The wobbly stomach, proffering forth regular tiny, but aromatically lethal escapages of wind. (I sprayed some lemon fresh-air stuff about, but the posterior declamations won the day!) Cor, blimey they did!
I took a couple of photos as I made a brew of Glengettie. The sun behind still low, and it made for pictures with a distinctly varied colouring, I thought. Later, when it comes up a little more, the sun should be casting its shadows in the scene. I’ll try to remember to take some more.
As I got the tea made, made a decision. Yes, it has been known before (A long time ago, I agree). I thought that while being inside is a right bind and I’m not getting my daily hobbles in now, I placed the tea-bag pots on the floor! Why, you ask? (I hope). This means, at least a little exercise, bending down to get a bag, and again to put the pot back! It might sound silly to you, and most likely it is. But, the amount of tea I drink (and let go cold), should help me a bit. There is no chance of be doing any exercising today, the pains and aches are still pretty nasty, from the cleaning up of the flood, yet. So, in my mind at least, I’ve tried to do something about it. Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly?
What seemed like a few years later, I got up to here. I titivated this blog and then went on to update the Wednesday blog. This didn’t take too long, despite Nocodemus’s dying nerve-ends hassling me a bit.
The peripheral neuropathy drove right-leg was twitching and mini-shaking. In such a fashion that I believe my unintended, yet feeling almost obligatory, Neuropathic Drop-Something Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, shortly. It seemed to be building to it anyway.
I then went on the WordPress Reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.
The door chime rang out, no intercom was heard though, so it might be someone to tell me off about something or other, Jenny bringing me a treat, or, as I anticipated, the second pair of trousers being delivered from Amazon. I made my way sprightly to the door…alright, I hobbled with the stick to the door, and sure enough, it was an Amazon delivery chap, who kindly put the box through the door for me.
Puzzling. It was another box of the Mini-Cheddars pickle flavoured cheese biscuits? I ordered another box? Did I? I’m hoping I have not clicked for a regular order of these. Oh, dearie me! I hope the second pair of trews arrive today and put my warped, frenzied mind at rest about them, at least.
I had a look at the trousers where I’d hung them up on top of the washed ones wit the holes in the pockets and legs coming apart, to remind myself that I’ve paid for two pairs, not one. Incidentally, the yare supposed to be brown ones, do they look brown to you? They are the wrong size as well. Tsk! I feel that at some time in my younger years, someone must have slipped me a lifetime-of-bad-luck pill!
I put the box in the junk room with the first one, took a packet out of the old box, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m not getting the full satisfaction from the brews lately, but that can’t be helped, I’m using the watery semi-skinned one from the Nottingham City Homes donation, Bless ’em!
I took the three snaps above, hoping to catch the sun in between the shadows. Each time I went to take a photo, the sun went in. I gave up after the third attempt and took those above.
My thoughts turned to plan my later victuals and libations. I ferreted in the cupboards. After much changing of the mind, ponderisationing and faffling about mentally, I decided to have some rice, cooked in Hoisin sauce, and some vegetarian sausages. That’s the one’s I ordered in error last week, waste not, want not, and all that.
An update came in on Email with the figures for Nottingham Civid-19+. So I added it to yesterdays update and made another graphic if it.
It’s not too encouraging. It doesn’t help with the conspiracists spouting their views about it being a drug-company, or mask-making one, in league with the various governments.
I am more than confused about it as it is, thank you.
It was late now, so I decided to get back on CorelDraw and try to do up a template for tomorrow before the eyelids start drooping.
Ah, the sun has cast a shadow of the building on the bottom field. As there was an acute shortage of dogs taking their owners for a walk, I decided to take a shot of, I reckon, beautiful scene.
I went to make another mug of Glengettie and washing afterwards, I thought I’d missed a little purple spot on my right palm. I gave it some energetic hammering with bleach, washing up liquid and a scrubbing brush, but no, it didn’t work. On closer inspection, it looked like one of the Clopidogrel blood blisters under the skin? I feel sure that the nurse told me it only affects the legs? Then again, that was when the Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed. Since I had the stroke, so that made things come on a little quicker. It is on the right side as well.
I fear not getting my walking in, or even being able to sense things when I touch them like the fingers and hands are now. If any other part of my magnificent, muscle-toned body (Inchcock Fib Detected!) get affected, well, Oh dear! Enough of the bleakness, if it comes, I’ll do what I’ve always done, cry! Hahaha! Only joking! I’ll press on as long as I can. As long as folks read, and get a smile out of my blogs, then I get satisfaction.
I must stop this chit-chatting, and get on with the graphicalisationing.
I got that done (partly anyway), and went to get the meal planned, heated the oven, and later, decided to add some Horlicks to the rice, so it… No, no, that’s not right. Oh, dear, gone memory dead again! I had to go and look at the bottle label. Hickory, that’s what I meant! But I’ve forgotten what I was going to say about it now. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks!
Computer off, and I had to go to the Porcelain Throne! What a harrowing experience that was! Painful with moments of agony. The evacuation was stop-start and took ages. But it was not messy. The worst thing was the amount of blood. It didn’t look like it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, a much deeper crimson-like colour, a lot of it! But, it might have been from the piles.
The cleaning up and medicating was a long, uncomfortable job. And changing into new PPs, I lost my balance and hit the wall, then sort of slid down onto the knees, in an almost slow-motion fashion! I think I questioned my parentage afterwards. That did Arthur Itis’s knees a lot of good! I decided as I am in here, I’d get the ablutioning done. Fool!
A few dropsies. I avoided the conflict with the lethal, dangerous, scary, nerve-rendering sock-glide, by not putting any of the bamboo hosiery on. (Coward? Me? Yes!) I did clout the right shin against the mop bucket, and I vociferated with something like, “Oh heck!” (Inchcock Fib Detected).
Limpingly I hobbled to the kitchen. Where I stirred the marinating rice and got it on the lowest setting of heat. Then I got out the pork & leek sausages from the freezer. Gawd, they looked almost white, one was broken, and the skin looked ultra thick. I thought about changing my choice of meat, but stuck with the odd-looking sausages and put the bangers in the pre-heated oven.
The seasoning I’d put in the marinade smelled good.
While the sausages, that the label on the bag said needed 45 minutes to cook.
I got the handwashing tended to. Just a long sleeve t-shirt and a couple of pairs of bamboo socks.
During doing the washing process, I’d got the fabric softener, the Sainsbury’s smelling-like-puke one, out to use, put it back, and rather sillily, left the cupboard door ajar. I caught the right legs shin on the edge of the door. Just my luck, Nicodemus’s nerve-ends had to be working perfectly at the time. I’ll not mention my exclamations used.
All done, wrung and hung, I turned my attention to prepping the meal. The sausages were pale, and the thick skins white. If it wasn’t for the hoisin sauce and hickory colouring them a tad, I don’t think I’d had eaten them at all, they were so unappealing looking. And I’d burnt the rice as well. However, I still served them up on the plastic dish. The last of the tasteless cheesy buns, an apple, lemon yoghourt, two lemon mini-Vienesse cakes, and a can of the Clementine drink rounded of the meal.
I thought I was rather brave, in even trying a bite of the thick-skinned weighty, white sausages. It tasted blandish, but the flavour of the leeks came through. The rice, I enjoyed despite having burnt it a tad. Well, a lot really! Tsk! Taste Rating: 6.5/10. I didn’t eat it all.
The washing up? Well, that was a nightmare. The saucepan that I’d overcooked the rice in, was most reluctant to free the seasoning and rice that was attached to the sides of the pan. Humph! The wooden spoon is still soaking in the bowl, now! I reckon pebble dashing could be done with this rice. Hahaha!
I did a check of the flat, taps (faucets), door for mail, windows, lights, taps (faucets), the stove etc., taps (faucets), and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, obnoxiously, odiously, stomach-churningly, beige-coloured, non-working, rickety-recliner.
I had pots of nibbled all around me. Mini-cheddars, walnuts, yoghourt coated cashew nuts and seaweed crispies. But, as I spent a few hours nodding-off and waking up, again and again, only the cashews pot was raided.
I did watch most of the film called ‘Young Sherlock’. I wish I could have stayed awake, but I did enjoy what I managed to view, but of course, have no idea what the plot was fully about, I got the gist of it, I think. Grumph!
I soon nodded off properly, and into sweet Morpheous’s heaven!
03:30hrs: I woke in a positively improved state of mind. Over the last 48hrs, I’d gone from ‘I’ve-Had-enough’, to ‘Oh-dearie me’, then to this morning’s mental condition, of ‘Perhaps-Things-Might-Improve’ mode. Dangerous, I know, but that’s how I felt! As I was laid there, wallowing in this temporary-moment of rarefied, but pleasant, semi-contentment, I started to ponder on what the day will be bringing me, hassle-wise. My EQ told me to expect nice things today? Mmm?
I have to ring or Email Jenny later, to find the time for the taxi she had arranged for me to get to the bank was due. The lower right leg was stinging before I moved (I’ll check on it later). I soon sussed that Anne Gyna, Peripheral Pete, Colin Cramps, and Shaking Shaun were going to be a bother. But my investigations had to be paused, and my ramblings concentrated on getting to the Porcelain Throne.
I was up and out of the recliner with so much ease it shocked me! Grabbed the stick and made my way to the wet room. The repeated phut-phut escapages from the read end en route, had me fooled completely. I would have put money on it going to be a messy, sloppy, runny evacuation, and accordingly, settled down as soon as I could…
And there I still was, a good five actionless minutes later! The crossword book was utilised for another few minutes before any movement began. And then, it was another of the start-stop part-way through jobs. ‘Things’ were being stretched, and the pain was slowly increasing! The crossword book was perused again. Anything to take my mind off of the agony. Hehe! Eventually, but slowly, activity returned, but it needed a lot of stressful encouragement from yours truly. Phew! Bloody, but it was not unexpected.
I got things in need, cleaned and medicated. And as a point of urgency, I went to the kitchen and made a mug of the Macrogol. Took a Senna along with the morning medications. With Anne Gyna, Colin Cramps (I pain-gelled the leg) and Duodenal Donald already giving me some discomfort, I took a Cocodamol to back up the Codeine 30g extra as well. Thank heavens for the kind person who dropped some off for me. Especially as the toothache was joining in the ‘Let’s annoy Inchcock’ battalion of ailments!
More CorelDraw work needed doing, but I started the updating of the Tuesday blog first. I discovered that Nicodemus’s Nerve-end transmitters were not working. I spent longer doing corrections than actual productive work. Inchyangulations!
But, I was in a fertile mood this morning, and went on to CorelDraw without taking a break or any nibbles! Highfaluting-Inflated-Ego-Mode Engaged!
Thankfully, with my staying up late again yesterday, there was little work needed to do, to finish off the blog. Although, still time for repeated corrections of Neuropathic Pete’s finger-end insensitive moments! Grangleroterisations!
Pinterested some pictures, and went on getting some graphics done for page tops. It was slow progress, but I do love doing them; if only the ailments would let me! I had to stop, to get the ablutions done a little early. Partly to get things done and not be late for the taxi that Jenny has arranged for me on time. And just in case Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding. I do not like having to rush cleaning and medicating things in that department, quite painful, don’t you know! I must remember to go on WordPress Reader and TFZers Favebooking later.
Of to the wet room, and still with a morsel of this strange emotion to me, determination!
However, my gusto did not help, but rather made the session one of the worst for a few days! My rushing about at a rate of knots usually not available for me, meant Whoopsies galore!
Stubbed toe on the mop bucket!
Dropped the toothpaste!
Shaving foam can
Shaving cuts (two)
The worst thing was the dang Sock Glide. I tried to make a point of being careful as well! Globalerisations! I trapped a finger in the gripper, tore a hole in a sock, and cracked the middle right toe as I pulled on the sock!
“For Sale” One almost new, part-used Sock-Glide. Emotion-prompting brand (Crying and swearing usually). Green plastic-covered metal. House trained, Decoratively sprayed withblood spots, red polka-dot spots. Offers, please!
Or, better still, if there are any medical people out there who can repair dying neurotransmitter ends, you can charge whatever you like to do the job, I’m prepared to give you all the money I have, please. The rent and service charges have just gone up, so it will be a little less than to offer you. But I can guarantee a minimum payment of £400! And, some old coins and monies when I get them back from my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, who stole them while I was in the hospital after my stroke. Hehehe!
I then got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung. Not a lot, just a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of socks.
Checked on the wet-room floor mat, I washed last night. Still wet so I jiggled it a bit and turned it over, on the clothes airer.
Then, made up and took some more black bags to the waste chute.
Back to the flat and got things ready, made sure I’d got the letters Jenny wrote for me, the card, and some tissues with me.
I did the usual faffing about double-checking lights and taps etc. and went to set out for the taxi. As I opened the door, the mobile rang. Which was a good thing that it did, cause I’d left it nearby the computer?
I fumbled my way back and answered it. Twas Sister Jane. Wanting to know if I had ad a letter she’s sent received yet. We don’t get a morning delivering in these flats, at least I’ve never had one. Always been in the afternoon. She asked me to ring her back after I got it. Mmm?
I set out and down into the foyer of Woodthorpe Court. Out onto Chestnut Walk. Both the old caretakers were there at the bins. And I managed a conversational chinwag with them, despite Stuttering Stephanie doing her best to muck things up!
The taxi arrived dead on time, a decent sort of chap. We got to the bank, and as I was struggling to get out of the vehicle, a stranger came over to me and helped me out of it! That was grand of him! The taxi man walked me to the bank…
Jenny said she had checked on the opening times with TSB, who told her 09:30hrs. It was now, 09:35hrs, but they were not open. There was a sign on the door, saying for the duration of the lock-down, they will be open at 10:00hrs.
So, I had to do some quick thinking. If I wait until ten o’clock, the taxi fare will be a lot more, sky-high. If I get some money from the ATM, a risky job in my state with the fingers being none-responsive to touch, I will not be able to get sufficient cash for what I need, to pay my debts and have some spare for… No, I’ll get the money from the machine. I asked the driver if he could keep an eye on me, apart from the number I use?
He kindly did, and again a good job he did. I was walking away without collecting the cash! We were soon back in the flat, and the chap escorted me to the lobby door! Bless him!
On the way up, I got off the list on Jenny’s floor, and dropped the money I owe off through her letterbox, rang the bell, and back to the elevator.
I got in the flat and made sure I had the money left, and the card was safe!
A second calling to the Porcelain Throne. Hell, what a difference this one was. Ten-times less painful, but messy and the foulest aroma depositing one I’ve had for ages! The cistern didn’t clear it all, so I had to pour down endless jugs of water for yonks. The bleeding was a lot less, too!
As I got the kettle on, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed from the door. It was the postman, with a letter, (Jane’s) and a parcel. I thanked him and withdrew to the kitchen.
The mail was a card from ‘our Jane’, with some money in it for me for Easter. Bless her cotton socks, just at the optimum time too! I’ll ring her later on when I get the Iceland order arrived and sorted.
The package was a pair of the trousers I’d ordered from Amazon. They had sent only one pair, though, not the two I paid for! I suppose the other pair might arrive later. I checked the tracker on amazon to see what it said. They also sent the wrong size! Unless, of course, an Inchcock error had been made with the ordering? There was no email to tell me it had been delivered, so the other pair of trews might come later. I hope!
The letter was from Jane, with some cash in it, cause she knows I’ve had none for five weeks. Perfect timing! I’ll ring and thank her later.
I took a snap from the kitchen window of the sky, I was looking for dogs taking their owners for a walk, but I couldn’t see any.
Got the kettle on, and was about to get the evening medications ready, and the Intercom chimed and lit.
It was the Iceland delivery man. He sensibly kept his distance, put the bags down and withdrew. I was tickled pink to see I’d got some of the beefburgers added to the order.
Of course, I’d made another cock-up on the ordering, again! I felt sure I had ordered straight cut chips and then saw the new ones on sale, cunningly called ‘Naturally Imperfect chips!’ These were only £1, compared to the others at £2.40. Indeed, I thought I’d taken the orange pack off of the order. They are both the same weight as well.
This caused a bit of hassle and struggle, getting all the frozen foods in the freezer!
One heck of rigmarole taking stuff out, and rearranging things. A lot of the fresh products they were out of, but I still got the mature cheddar slices, No yoghourts, which is a shame, I love the lemon yoghourts, ah, well. Two ready-made meals on offer.No beetroot. Bleach restricted to one bottle per order. No spreadable butter. They sent smoked kippers boil in the bag, so no smoked haddock. But that’s no bother; I like kippers as much. Despite my searching and ordering the lemon yoghourts, lemon mousse and lemon tarts, it was a no go. But they did deliver some lemon Vienna cakes, so they will have to do. At least I have some more after dinner apples in stock. I hope they have been radiated.
But today, it will be the beefburgers on cheesy cobs and some chips, methinks. That sounds good to me.
I rang Jane to thank her, and the connection of the ringing told me not to bother, all broken up and crackly. I did some CorelDrawing, then tried again to get Jane.
Nicodemus’s nerve-ends died as the mobile rang, and as she answered it, I turned it off involuntarily. The typing I was doing afterwards was a farce, the senseless fingers doing all sort of jumping about… and I got a different scene up. It scared the hell out of me, it was full of indecipherable stuff to me. I thought it was the end of the computer. I calmly thought to myself, well that’s it. I’m not going to put another machine through this, I felt sickened. But I kept searching for an escape or close tag to hit, but no. I pressed the Esc button, nothing happened. My life had come to an end!
I was remarkably calm about it and started to take out the sim-card from its slot. But foolishy used the right hand, it flew up, and I grabbed at it, and went down with it onto the keyboard, and the right hand ran across along the keys… and the original screen came back on!
I know this sound hogwash, but it isn’t! Unbelievable!
I checked that other things and programmes were working, and they were. So, partly flabbergasted, and amazed, I closed everything down and tended to getting my beefburgers and chip cobs readied.
What a varied, up and down day so far!
At last, a decent nosh, and easy to prepare too. The cheesy topped cobs were bland, and the so-called extra-strong cheese was tasteless, but it didn’t matter too much. I made three sarnies. On of the insipid, pathetically flavoured cheddar, loaded with caramelised red onion chutney, to make it eatable. And two cobs with a beefburger, and some of the straight Iceland chips. I could not fault the crispy, tasty fries or beefburgers at all; they were marvellous! Enough to take my attention’s away from the jejune cheese, and the zestless cobs, anyway. Taste rating: 7/10. Thanks, as I said, to the chips and beefburgers, both Iceland brand. Both yummy!
I got the pots washed, and settled to watch the Coronavirus update on the telly. Farcical! I dropped off a minute here and there for hours. Why I didn’t just turn the TV off, beats me. Tsk!
04:00hrs (The latest getting up time for months): I stirred and waited for the brain to catch me up. Which it failed to do in time apparently. Cause as I began to manipulate my grossly overweight-stomached body from the recliner, ‘Thud-thud’, I ended up on my knees! Fell off of the c1968, rickety recliner, knocking the swivel chair over to the cabinet as I did so. Which sent the nibble pots off of the arm and rolling all over the floor. The knees were stinging, caught my head against the other chair arm as I twisted in a vain effort to stop myself going down, and a few selected naughty words were silently muttered! (I hope they were silent, anyway) I crawled on all fours to gather the nibble-pots, the yoghourt coated cashew nuts thankfully, didn’t burst open! Phew!
I tackled the job of struggling to get back up, in an almost nonchalantly, blasé, laid-back manner, and I was seated back in the recliner again within a minute or two! Yes, I know, it surprised and shook me too!) I stayed there to receive a brain-storm for a few moments. Not the usual self-recrimination, hatred, and confusion this time. I merely accepted the incident, felt thankful that it was not worse, and got the taste for a mug of tea! (Honestly!)
When I got in the kitchen, I spotted the moon was out again. But, being so much later than yesterday, it was more distant and further to my left.
I tried my best to get the lights below in the shot I took. I took me about five efforts, this was the only decent one out of them all!
I found a certain degree of, well, almost confidence creeping in this morning as I made the brew. I was singing to myself and whistling in between? I’d coped with the earlier Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpas with no bother. I was feeling upbeat, and this worried me a tad!
My EQ told me that things were going to get hectic. No reasons or outcomes. Just things were going to get frantic, and soon! A shudder went through my body, and I foolishly ignored this warning and carried on singing to myself, as I took the medications, and took the tea with me to the computer. I did feel what must have been close to contentment and relaxed with it! This is not natural for me!
My first job was to make up the template for today’s blog, which took a long time. Thanks to Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going off and on-line at will. Got it done, and checked online for the virus figures. Not very good.
Then looked at the Emails, and sure enough, an Iceland order was arriving today, twixt 15>1700hrs!
I decided to get the ablutions done next, as with my getting to a semi-live state, so late, it was now gone eight! (No charge for the poetry. Hehe!). I put a long-sleeved t-shirt and pair of socks to soak while I got the shave and stand-up wash. Off to the wet room.
As I got in the doorway, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, it couldn’t have come at a better time! But it was again a start-stop operation.
Which let me have another go at the crossword puzzle solving. I got a few as well!
When things started moving again, just like yesterday, it was ‘Klunk’ and all over and done with. Apart from the cleaning up, of course. No medicating, not with me about to have the stand-up wash and shave. The doing of the teeth, ave just one dropsy, the toothpaste. No cut gums this morning. The shaving was a little more accident-prone, though. Dropsies included: Shaving foam can (2), razors (6), and the after-shave bottle that I was using to stop the (3) cuts bleeding. However, no toe stubbings, and the sock-glide, I laughed at! (I didn’t put any socks on, Hehehe!) Most of the dropsies were caused me Nicodemus’s failing nerve ends.
Medicated the areas in need, olive-oiled the ear holes, Saccades sprayed the eyes, got the Brute and deodorant applied. One blessing here was that Little Inchies fungal lesion had only bled a tiny bit. Ah, nice!
But I still felt in a perky mood! I dried off and got dressed, all bar the socks, and went to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung. For some reason, the ones I did yesterday still needed more drying time?
You can see in this photograph, the diamond strengthed leakage from the air-vent, that the Nottingham City Homes maintenance man left me with on the wall years ago now. And it ran down and hardened all over the electrical socket! It still pees me off when I see it every day.
I got the black bags sorted, replaced the bags in the waste-baskets (4), and took the full ones to the waste chute.
I spotted the new to me, but it would be, my not having been out for so long, a sign asking for only one person in the lift cage at any time.
When I returned to the apartment, I thought I make another brew, and try to drink it this time. I took another Co-codamol that a mystery resident had so kindly given me, to counter the toothache I felt coming on again.
There are plenty of aircraft/jets out today. How do they keep to social-spacing in them, then?
Back to the computer, I’ll get the thing started eventually, Humph!
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. Looks like my EQ was right, doesn’t it?
It was Riechsfhúreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana. She was handing out Easter Eggs from the Nottingham City Homes, for everyone. Bless em!
I got back to the computer, and sat a moment, wondering if using it would bring another interruption. Just as the now even more familiar, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. It was caretaker Robert, with a big bottle of milk and a loaf of bread for me! I thanked him muchly for the loaf and explained that I have plenty of milk in at the moment. Slipped him a G & T in thanks.
Back to the computer, I typed maybe five words, and the landline flashed and rang-out! It was a chap, this time from the Ingeus Diabetic course runners. He went through all what the lady did yesterday. Nothing really sank in, the line was that bad and with my hearing, Tsk!
At last, I made a start on this blog. For about five minutes, and the landline flashed again!!! It was the man from Direct Help. I explained that is was a fortnight ago when I spoke with the lady, and things have improved since. As I have got through for an Iceland order delivered since! With the help of Jenny, I have some stuff arriving Sunday, I think, that will hopefully fill the fridge and freezer up. So there is no requirement for help now, there was three weeks ago, but no one called as expected. So, I should be fine for a while. I told him of my five-week wait for the Morrison order, that’s due a week on Sunday! He told me to ring him back in a fortnight if I needed any help with shopping then. I asked him for the telephone number. He seemed surprised that I didn’t have it on my phone. He gave it to me, anyway.
On the computer, once more. And the intercom flashed! It was the Iceland delivery that I can’t remember ordering!
Now, my friendly, warm, upbeat mood was changing.
I got yesterday’s blog sent off, and made yet another attempt as doing this update. Guess what? The landline lit up and sounded again!
It was the cat-walk model and Warden Oberstgruppenfhúreress Deana. She had some questions that needed answering for Nottingham City Homes. I don’t know how the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) are managing with all the extra duties and hassle they have to put up with, Bless em all! I got myself very confused, and being so tired again, things weren’t sinking in, well they were, but not staying in the memory bank!
I got back to the computing, and the dreaded, feared, damp, and warm sensation spreading about in the lower regions was sensed! Botherations and blasticulisations! Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding! So, off to the wet room again, for cleaning and medicationalising.
The task was more manageable and less painful than I expected, for it had not dried on, much less hassle! I had a wash afterwards and noticed that the old ankle scar looked like it wanted to return again. (Dangwangling, Dangwangles!)
I gave the hands another really weep clean. So much so, the yare getting all wrinkly again. Tsk!
And, how can I get some more carbolic soap? It was hard enough to get before the lock-down and self-imprisonment! (Gribbledockends!)
I went to make a brew, and I noticed a man and his dog down on the bottom field. It was different, and funny this time!
The man threw something, a ball I imagine, but this dog was not having it at all! The hound plopped itself down on the grass, with no intention of moving! Hahaha! The chap could not get the animal to move at all. He got his mobile out and made a call. I wondered if he was walking the dog for someone, and calling for advice? A few possible funny scenarios went through my head.
Then, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the door, again. Unbelievable! It was a delivery man, I didn’t see him of course. But there was mail been delivered, and a box on the floor.
The reading of a letter, pretend signed, by Boris, while the poor bloke is suffering in the intensive-care ward, was a strange thing. To me, anyway. Good and bad news from the blood results. Good, in that with it being Bank Holiday, they always leave the next test for longer. This time, it is not until the 21st of April. Which means, my Blood Vampire Angels will not be seen until then! Sob, Ululations, & Woe is me!
Finally, I got this post done as far as here. It only took me fourteen hours, as well. Humph!
At last, I got the Iceland order looked at properly. Their offer of two boxes of Gold corn flakes at £1 off for two, I had apparently taken advantage off. I vaguely recall thinking that if Jenny didn’t want them, she would know of someone who would, Nora perhaps? I gathered the things and bagged them, then called Jenny, to tell her I would drop the bag off at her apartment, in a few minutes. Which I did. It felt odd, after such a long time, to use the lift again, almost scary! Haha! If Jenny does not want anything in the bag at all, it won’t matter, cause I know she’ll soon have some worthy person to give the milk, Cereals etc. to, who deserves a bit of help.
Back up to my flat, didn’t anyone out in the building at all going either way. It felt so eerie, and reminded me of my recurrent dream of being chased and shot at in a crumbling building, by gangs of unpleasant persons.
I took a picture of a panorama shot of the scene outside.
A man and his dog, sensibly kept their distance from the two young girls in the bottom field, as it looked like they were asking for directions.
I’m feeling weary now, but the toothache is no worse, the coughing has eased, and my mood was getting back to a good one.
Fodder decision time now. I chose to have bacon sarnies. Mainly to use some of the crap, watery, tasteless bacon I’d got! Tsk! I might have a tin of tomatoes with it instead, then use the bread to dunk with. Or something else? Hahaha!
I’ll be back in the morning to finish this blog off, I hope.
I ended up making Halloumi cheese sticks and bacon in the same oven tray. I made up bacon sandwiches, caramelised chutney, an apple and some lemon Vienna cakes. And a can of the delightfully tangy Clementine juice.
The halloumi was okay, and the bacon was much better than yesterday’s offering. This is because I took Tim Price’s advice and poured the hickory over the bacon as it cooked, and as a result, it tasted a lot better. Flavour rating: 7/10.
I didn’t even get to do the washing up, I fell asleep with the tray on my knee. I woke hours later, with the tray on the floor and my humungous body half out of the recliner.
I thought about picking up the dish, plate and crumbs… Zzzz!
03:20hrs: I woke, having had all of three hours actual sleep. The body and mind were not interested in waking, moving, thinking or getting out the uncomfortable, £300 second-hand, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Together for once, the brain and body agreed, and I turned slightly to a more comfortable position, to nod-off in.
As I did so, a deadly wet and warm bottom-blurp ‘Plumf!’ escaped from the rear end! That ended any chance of nodding off again! For it was followed by a movement developing from the innards! How the heck I managed to get to the wet room on time, I don’t know.
It stuttered and stopped half-way again, like yesterday. All I could do was grab the crossword book, grit my teeth at the pain, and wait! Which is what I did! After a while (and a few puzzle clues answered [Oh, yes!]), The evacuation started sharply again. A sort of Shploosh, plop, plop, plop later, it was all over! The blood flowed freely on wiping things. A good wash and medicationing session, finding Inchies Fungal Lesion had bled during my sleeping hours (All three of them!), the most painful of areas to medicate.
I did have a moment when I asked the Lord, why me? But he didn’t answer!
Washed and antisepticated the touch-points, and went to the recliner room, to check if I’d knocked anything over in bumbling rushed attempt to get to the Porcelain Throne in time.
Oh, dearie me! signs of nocturnal nibbling lay all around the chair! Guilt dawned on me. Then went away again! When I realised it was not my fault, I was not in control of my mind while I was sleeping… Then the guilt returned when I recognised that nowadays, I not in control during most of my waking hours either! Hahaha!
I cleaned things up, not properly or with any enthusiasm mind.
I sat down on the computer chair, to reach some missed bits of what was a masticated cheese biscuit, and… I’d sat on an old RAOB medal, the pin bent as it went in my bum, and my spirits sank at so many things going wrong so often! I also noticed a bruise on the arm. Closer inspection, revealed it was not from yesterday’s blood taking, but most likely from the Clopidogrel. It’ll be gone within 24 hours, but a new one will come-up somewhere else. Tsk! I’d like to know how the pin got on the swivel chair in the first place?
I could get depressed, you know! Grubbulisations!
I got on the computer, by the time I should have been finishing off the updating of yesterday’s blog – then made a start on doing it. Humph! But got sidetracked, by the mind coming up with a bit of a funny ode idea, about Coronavirus.
So, got it written and posted off. Then, I got on with the Tuesday blog updating at last. Got it done, and went on the TFZer Facebooking, and forgot all about sending the blog off!
I got the ablutions seen to, just in case anyone from the Diabetes Ingeus, The NCC food parcel sending avoiders, deliveries from Amazon or the Clinic called or phoned me. What a mess! I cut the gums cleaning the teeth. Had four cuts shaving. Dropped the razors (several times), the carbolic soap (three times), shower head (twice), and the towel (twice)! I cleaned up and medicated areas in need.
Then on the way out, I knocked the standu[ clothes airer over with the togs on it! Stood it back up, bent down to retrieve the clothes, and clouted my head on the corner of the wet room door!
The Lord was still not listening to me! The heuristics and problems of life, have become too much for me to cope with nowadays!
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
I got back to the computer, and Sister Jane rang me, mentioning the funny ode, adding that the diary had not been received yet! The line was difficult to hear again, kept fading in and out. I foolishly, well, unthinkingly, replied that I had posted it to her and Pete. The urgent need for a wee-wee developed while we were nattering, and I shot off to the wet room.
The wee-wee started encouragingly with a gentle trickle, and despite my best efforts and a lot of time, it got no further. Which puzzled my already tormented brain! This is when I realised that I had not sent off the Inchcock Today! Washed and disinfected, and back to the computer to send off the link. Pete had sent an email informing me he had not received it! Klutz! I replied with an embarrassing, but funny answer.
An Amazon order arrived, it was the single servings of long-life milk. They should have a long expiry date on them. I was going to check them but forgot all about it. Twit! I struggled with the box and the walking stick, it took me a long time, but I did get them to the kitchen in the end. I stored them under the draining board.
I made a start on this blog. But it was interrupted, many times.
The first one was the mobile-phone ringing. It was a lady from Ingeus. The line was almost useless, her voice kept fading in and out all through the long, convoluted unwanted conversation and question and answer time. I had to repeatedly ask her to say again if you please. It’s hit and miss if I got the messages properly. Checking the usual names, dates, contact number, Doctors, NHS number etc.. It was doi,ng my concentration no good at all. However, I think since they cancelled all of the Diabetes courses due to the virus, some money-manager has decided to run an online course, so they can get money out of the NHS for doing it. It is to start on Thursday 23rd April, at 10@00am, and I am to log on fifteen minutes early. The lady will send links and details to me via email. There was possibly more I should have digested, well, I know there was, but I think she took me asking her to say again, as an answer to some of the question, because she said ‘Okay’ or ‘Good’, and moved on to the next query. She was on that long, the battery ran out on the phone!
I put it on charge as the door chimes rang out! It was laptop dancer and Warden Hauptsturmfhreress Deana. She was handing out Easter Eggs from Nottingham City Homes. We had a distanced natter, and Josie appeared at her door. She did not look very well, and she shot back in while I was talking to her. Oh, dear! Poor gal.
Back to the computer. Minutes later, the intercom flashed and sounded. It was another delivery from Amazon. Of 24 cans of clementine juice! I thought I’d ordered tomato juice? But still, they will do me fine, I like citrus juices.
Getting this box in, was more of a test of my limited resources, with it being so heavy. But we got there.
Then I realised how late it was. Well beyond my usual head-down time. My breathing began to come a little laboured. But I wanted to stay awake, in case any of the NCC Assistance volunteers arrived. Four times now I’ve been told someone will contact me the next day. Still, waiting. If I knew their number, I ring them to tell ’em not to bother, after thanking them of course. Then, I may get some sleep? Oh, I’m getting bitter!
Updated this post some, and then thought I’d better get some nosh sorted out. Chips, bread & butter, last of the mushroom pattie, tomatoes, beetroot… yes that sounds good to me. And a lemon Vienna cake or two (they are only tiny, honest!) for afters, being as I am struggling to find any yoghourts or mousse available.
Only three hours sleep last night, and here I am, finding myself trying to stay awake in case the promised four-times visitor calls or arrives. My health is at risk here.
As as I was prepping the meal, well supper by now, Dusty Springfields tune to ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ came from the door. I opened it, to see nobody out there. No parcels left on the hallway floor? I nipped out to the lift lobby for a gander, no lifts were moving, and I spotted the new sign; ‘Only one person at a time to be in the lift’. Fair enough with me!
I opened a packet of the Iceland Pork & Leef sausages to give them a try, but I remembered I had some of the Surami fish stick still in the fridge, with a short use-by date on them, so returned the sausages back to the freezer.
The cough was getting niggly and the breathing no easier. So I took the evening medications with an extra pain killer (the toothache was coming open the more tired I got) and had a gargle of TCP. Which, on reflection, was not a good idea to do just before eating anything! But I was so tired out and drained mentally, the old grey-cells were wandering a bit.
I opted for, tomato sarnies, sweet potato fries, beetroot, Surimi sticks and seaweed snacks, with caramelised onion chutney, for the main course. And two teeny-weeny lemon meringue cakes, and a can of the clementine juice for afters.
I noticed that the use-by date was only 20th April 2020! I wondered why they were so cheap! Haha!
I’m afraid that the mess of a meal had many disappointing facets to it: The sweet potato fries, McCains brand as well, were horribly mushy and tasted only of sugar! I ate only a few of them. The Iceland wholemeal bread had already gone hard-crusted and dry! I broke off the crusts and ate two of the three – the crumbs were scattered all over me, the chair and the carpet! Tsk! The beetroots were tasteless! I left half of them.
On the plus side, the Surimi, seaweed crispies, and pickle were all great! The lemon Vienesse cakes were mouth-wateringly acceptable! Perhaps the best came after I took the tray to the kitchen and cleaned up the bread-crumbs, was the Italiano Clementine drink. It was not sweet at all, but tangy and bitter-tasting, and that suited me.
A shame that I bought the last box from Amazon. Overall, the drink, Surimi and cakes, kept this nosh to a reasonable rating of 6/10.
I washed and changed into the night attire, feet up on the swivel chair – this was because the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, grotty-gungy-beige coloured, c1968, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, was not working.
It was damaged by my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, he damaged it, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras, and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The Peripheral neuralgia right leg, looked like the old ankle ulcer might be trying to come back again? I don’t think you can see it in this photo, but I knew it was there, the itching gave it away. Hahaha!
Oh, I meant peripheral neuropathy, not neuralgia, sorry. I don’t think there is anything called that. Or how or why I keep calling it wrongly? I should imagine all the other ailments, mental and physical, have ganged up, to have another laugh at me. Hehehe!
However, after getting settled, I ate some yoghourt covered cashew nuts, and tried to let my fatigue win, and get some sleep. Amazingly I drifted of within what seemed like a couple of minutes.
I woke a further few minutes later, with a jump! I cannot work out how, but in those few minutes, I’d had a marathon of a dream. Being chased through burning bombed flats, down the stairs from whatever floor I was on, being shot at and things thrown at me by my pursuers dying… No stick needed in this nightmare, I was running like the clappers, I had hair, that was on fire, and clocking in a timekeeping card in a reader, on each floor! But I don’t think I ever got down to the ground floor, at least, I can’t remember. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a nightmare like that. It proved the brain wasn’t completely dead. Hahaha!
01:10hrs: I awoke, unmoving I lay there, distorted, half-hanging out of the £300, c1968, rickety-recliner, and recognised that I seemed to be in an accepting, open-minded, philosophical frame of mine. There was no defeatist, wallowing in self-pity, or even a sign of depression? Mind you, I wasn’t exactly cheerful, either. I moved my humungous-bellied body into a safe position to clamber out of the recliner, I caught my balance, grabbed the wooden stick, and made my way to the wet room for a wee-wee. Which was one of the reluctant USBUYWS (Ultra-Slow-But-Uncontrollable-Yet-Weak-Sprinkly) ones?
It took me so long, I needed the Porcelain Throne half-way through. And it was no mean-feat to reposition things to do that, without having an Accifauxpas! But I managed it, with the minimum soupçon of wayward sprinkling. The mystery bruise in the leg is lingering.
The evacuation was not an easy one. Thankfully a swift effort, that was hurtful, aromatically challenged and bloody! Little Inchies fungal lesion had been leaking a bit too. A good clean up and a spot of medicalisationing here and there, and I was off to the kitchen! Olive-oiled the ear-holes
Got the kettle on, took the medications and took an extra pain-killer because the toothache was kicking off again. Made a brew. I noticed the moon was out and took these shots with the Sony camera, I did take others, but they didn’t come out too well.
The last shot was taking in Nightime Panorama mode. Thus, the plane’s trail and clouds can be seen. I liked that one. Smug Mode Adopted!
I got onto the computer. An Email from Iceland confirmed the arrival of some food this morning.
No substitutes at all. But the Shortbread Fingers, Cheese & Onion Smash, 1-litre full milk, leeks, Cheese, and Bread Thins were cancelled. But I expected things to be worse. So, well done Iceland!
I was about to make a start on the blog updating for yesterday, and I had a coughing bout like never before. But it was a short-lived event, so I don’t think it was connected to the damned Coronavirus. A bit of a sore throat is developing too.
I had a look to see if Amazon had any of the Leicester or STiltom mini-cheddars on offer fro me to buy. Ha! Packets of 5-Stilton and Leicester flavours were nearly £7 for three! A bit too steep that price, even if I do like them, but not that much! However, with the Warfarin alert wristlet breaking yesterday, I ordered another one.
I got the post updated at last and went to get the ablutions tended to, not realising how late it was. It was a rushed half-hearted affair, no shaving, as I had to get it done before the Iceland delivery arrived. I’m glad that I did now cause the delivery man comes within minutes. He left them outside the door, sensibly!
I was getting then inside, when the two, I say Two, Phlebotomy nurses arrived. Hristina and a trainee nurse who had been transferred from another section.
I found myself struggling to breathe correctly. Now that can be put down to Coronavirus! Worried me a bit. The ladies soon got me done and were shooting off to their next patient, in a hurray!
I forgot all about the delivery I’d had delivered, and I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Humph!
Before sorting things out, I took a moment to think through how things were going. The coughing. Breathing in a laboured fashion. The toothache getting no easier. Stuttering Stephany whenever I spoke to anyone? Headache coming on. I felt, well, I knew that Shaking Shaun was beginning to develop. A feeling forboding frequented the brain? It looks like being another busy day.
I got the Iceland delivery sorted out and the things I’d got in thanks for Jenny, were put in a bag, other than those that I needed to remember from the fridge.
I made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, then back on the computer. For about ten minutes, then the intercom buzzed again. It was the Amazon man with some of the outstanding delivery items for me. Two cartons worth!
I carried the bag of nuts into the kitchen, to get them in pots with lids… and left a trail of nuts on the carpet behind me! Yes, the bag had a hole in it! Mostest agravannoying. Well, that, changed me back into the feeling sorry myself, the wingeing old fart I was yesterday, in an instant! Neuroticisms!
I got things sorted out, but not very willingly or pleasantly! It took all of my spare lidded storage pots to get all the nuts packed away. Still, I must ask Jenny if she’s like any. They were bought to share, after all!
I emailed Jenny. She came down to collect the treats, but I forgot to mention the cashew nuts.
Jenny Emailed back mentioning the nuts. I asked her if she fancied a pot. But she didn’t. Humph! She told me to Email her if I wanted anything adding to her Sunday delivery from Sainsbury’s. That was kind. She also gave me her telephone number that I had lost. Along with all the others, when I swapped the sim into the old phone mobile) that I now use.
I rang her and asked if she would put some items that Iceland had not got on her order. Despite my not paying her yet for the last one, she agreed. She also said I should get a taxi into Sherwood, and tell the driver to wait for me, while I get some money from the ATM, and perhaps I can do some shopping at the Co-op. Then come straight back to the flats. I think she noted a certain reluctance in my stuttering voice. She offered to arrange a taxi for me when I get over this week and all the deliveries I have to wait in for. Bless her cotton socks.
There are few I’m waiting for this week. But of course, the dates keep changing. And I am getting more and more confused. Haha!
But and however, I pressed on with this post. In the knowledge that I now have some smoked bacon to eat, with bread and baked beans! Mmm!
I realised that the Golden Volunteer and the Nottingham City Council helpers, who said they would get in touch had not done so. Just like yesterday. Best if I give up on their kind help, it’s not coming methinks. They must be up to their eyeholes-busy anyway. And with my getting an order in, and with Jenny’s help, I can manage for a while. So much for the emergency food package. They need details anyway that I can’t give. Because getting an order in for delivery, doesn’t always mature. The Morrison order I got in three weeks ago, is not due for a fortnight yet! And then, there are missing items and substitutes. A good job I’m on the ‘At-Risk register’, or I’d get no help at all. Mind you, I’m not getting any anyway, come think of it! Hahaha!
I got the bacon pack split, into the oven, and warmed the baked beans up. Thinking I’d try some of the Hickory in the haricots… Oh, dearie me! The inner sealer in the bottle cap came out and stuck on the bottle-top, so unthinkingly I tapped the bottle, and a third of the hickory shot into the beans before I could stop it! Ah, well! I’ll soon find out if this hickory is stronger than the last one. Hahaha!
Another daft idea. I thought I’d but what few mini-cheese biscuits I had left, in a pot. I opened the individual packets, and while I was pouring them in, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed! I had crumbs all over the kitchen floor to painfully clean up! Inchyangulations! Time was lost, and the bacon was ready!
I turned down the oven heat and got the pot filled. I put some of the medications on top of it, intending to add the others later, and got the meal served up.
I tried some of the beans while getting them in the dish. I can assure you, this ‘Stubbs’ brand of hickory, is no stronger than the other one. Despite my accidentally pouring about a pound’s worth; a third of a bottle of the cat-wazz sauce, I could barely taste it! Grumpworthinesses! I washed the Hickory-sticky covered saucepan straight after emptying it.
That really put the mockers on the meal! The Iceland brand so-called smoked back bacon was so chewy, bland, watery and tasteless. What I thought was going to be a right-good-treat of a meal, was insipid and disappointing! So very Agravannoying! It looked super as well! Humph!
I took the tray and things to the kitchen, thinking I might get the handwashing done. But No! Which pillock had left the hot water tap running to get cold? I good job I washed the saucepan earlier! Schlub!
Another bad end-of-day for me. I should have known, with my waking up in such… well, an almost contented mood! No promised calls or contact from the Golden Volunteers or the Nottingham City Council about any help. Nicodemus’s timings do deactivate the nerve ends were all timed to cause me grief and bother. A continual string of information advice and details ensured I spent the day confused. I’m not coping very well. Thank heavens for Jenny’s input.
A highly-strung, frustrated and dithering Inchcock settled in his recliner, but an old DVD on, ‘Taken’ to watch. The thought storms tool over the brain. The unwatched film came to an end, and the storming was still there. Sleep was out of the question for hours. Well after the mind had settled, and went into a sort of vaguing session.
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit! I certainly ain’t! Grobblecurses!
02:50hrs: Grumpily, I stirred into semi-consciousness. And waited for the brain to do its best to catch up. It took a while. Then it was not exactly fully-functioning. Rather in odd bursts of recognition, intermingled with annoying episodes of extreme vagueness; with dips in willpower hidden-away in there somewhere.
As I endeavoured to free my even-more-grossly weighty stomach and torso from the £300, second-hand recliner, it became apparent that the innards were not suffering from any such incapacitating disabilities as the brain was. The turmoil and sudden pains from the borborygmus-churning stomach, sent me to the wet room, in some haste.
I entered, put the stick where I could not trip over it later, dropped the jammie-bottoms, and got seated on the Porcelain Throne. Argh! The agony and effort needed to start things off was a painful surprise. Humph! However, once the movement moved, it was soon all over. But, what a messy evacuation it was! I had to flush twice. As I was cleaning things up ready for the medicalisationing, I spotted that the removed substance had still not been cleared from the WC!
I got myself in a mini-pickle then. And made a harrowing mistake. I ended up treating Little Inchies fungal lesion with Daktacort, and I broke off from this, to pour some water from the sink down the bowl to free the obstruction. When I returned to the medicating and used Harold Haemorrhoid’s Hydrocortisone Topical cream on the lesion! Yes, it stung! Equally as painful was cleaning it off and re-applying the Daktacort again! Blasticulisations!
Surely not another frustrating day on the way for me? What a daft question!
No weird mind-talking or messages from my EQ came? I Olive-oiled the ear-holes, rubbed some Phorpain gel in Arthur Itis’s knees, cleaned the spectacles. As and as a final act of insanity, I stubbed my right middle toes on the edge of the door as Neuropathy Nigel gave the leg a little shake. Silent caterwauling and ululations! Haha!
Although with the shaking taking place, this meant the message of the injury did not get to the brain, thanks to Nicodemuses Neurotrammitters failure, which at the time was great. Of course, the word will get through later, when I’m not expecting it. Thus it will feel worse then, and it confuses me more!
I wonder if someone would like to write a book about Peripheral Neuropathy? I could help them with some unknown to the Doctor’s effects, hassles, pains, accidents, facts, fears, and emotions involved? No better not ask, not until the Coronavirus is under control anyway. I’m supposing I’ll live through it, and long enough to co-write the book? Perhaps Lynton Cox might be interested? No, maybe not!
Where was I? Oh, yes, I put some TCP ointment on the toe, and enigmatically, I thought too! I put a tissue with the cream on, around the end of the walking stick, and used that to apply it. Cunning eh?
People don’t understand the struggle for everyday existence some old farts (like wot I am) have to go through. Hehehe!
Got the medications taken, tea made and off to the computer to do the updating. Things had calmed down in the nerve-ends failing department, and getting this updating done was soon finished off. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I went on Pinterest. Then the TFZer Facebooking. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then off to get the ablutions tended to. I had a stand-up wash again, cause I feared not hearing the intercom or door chime with the shower running. I left the door open, so I could listen to if anyone arrived. As if anyone would when I wanted them and was ready for them! Tsk! Amazon should be arriving. I’m waiting for the volunteer from Golden Help to ring. Gawd its frustrating! Made even worse when I checked the intercom, I had four missed calls on it! I am pissed-off again! We’ve told everyone about the buzzer on the intercom from the first day, that is is not loud enough, but do they do owt? Sod all! And we have to suffer the consequences. Phooey and Harrumph! I hope I die of starvation and frustration… No, you fool, that won’t bother them! Tsk! Klutz! If I get another stroke, I shan’t bother recovering. The hassle is just too much!
Anyroad, I went to get the ablutions done. A decent session overall.
A handful of dropsies, nothing serious.
Just the one cut shaving, no pain, easily stopped.
No more toe stubbings.
No walking into anything.
Not knocking anything over.
I got the medicationalisationing done. The piles (again), phorpained the knees (again), and olive oiled the ear-holes (again). Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding, so I left things well alone.
With a certain amount of trepidation, I began the task of battling the sock-glide, then I chickened out, and put on a pair of short, wide bamboo socks on instead, manually.
A shame really, cause I’d been doing so well. I leant against the sink with my back, heaved up the tree-trunk, fluid-filled left leg, reached down, Neuropathic Nigel decided to give me a wobble of the right leg, and over I went. But not straight onto the floor, oh, no, that would be too simple for me! I fell on the bowl of water I’d washed the feet in earlier! It’s not often I want to cry, but this was such an occasion!
I don’t know how long it took me to clean everything up. I launched into a sort of pathetic, sorry-for-myself, and a super-brooding session matured! However, it didn’t last long, I don’t know why, though?
I got the room sorted a bit, made a pot of porridge for a late brekkers, and brew of tea, and back onto the computer. But the oatmeal only brought back my concerns about all the things and people who were supposed to be coming last weekend and or today. Naturally, none of them had arrived – unless they did and could not gain access, cause the intercom is not loud enough for me to here! Mind you, I and others can’t the fire alarm either. This sent me down a peg or two in the confidence stakes, and up, several points in the depression department. And, did you notice how much porridge was in the pot? Humph!
I tried to cheer myself up by doing some graphic creations on CorelDraw. It was going reasonably well, too.
Then an Email notification flashed up on the screen. I compared the new Coronavirus figures (Red) with yesterdays.
Over 6000 more total UK cases. 30 more in Nottingham. UK cases from 41,903 Sunday, today 47,806. Oh, dear!
I went and got the veg prepared and in the saucepan on low heat. Only parsnips, onion and mushrooms left now. I put the last two tomatoes in and made some gravy and added it. This way, the last boil-in-the bag onion gravy braised beef can be had later and mixed in together.
It’s getting afternoon now. No contact from the phlebotomy nurse (plenty of time yet, though), Amazon, or by McChrystal’s. The Golden Volunteers have not got in touch yet either. I was hoping they would get me the food parcel and have sorted out how I can pay at the Haydn Road shop, but the poor devils are overrun with orders.
So, after today, I’ll be digging into the freezer and cupboards for food. I’m nowhere near out of food. I will not go further into debt, and abuse the help Jenny has given me. Everything is confusing and frustrating at the moment, but it must be for so many others as well! I’ll try to get an order in again somewhere. Hang on a bit…
Never mind, then.
Ah, going through the Amazon tracking orders, and the landline burst and flashed forward. I hoped it would be the Golden Volunteer about the food parcel, but no, it wasn’t.
Even betterer, it was the Vampiress, blood nurse Hristina! (It’s spelt that way in Polish, but sounds as Christina) She will be calling in the morning to take my blood and get my BP up! Hahaha! Now I was boosted in spirits! I cheered enough, to go for a wee-wee, then make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, stir the vegetables, and got the saucepan on for the braised beef.
I had a look outside, to see if the energetic little black dog was out on a walk. He or she wasn’t, but I spotted a chap walking his little black dog.
And then a man and woman walking their three little dogs. I’m afraid they were not keeping to the recommended socialising distance, though.
Ah, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed out from the doorbells. I really thought that it was either McChrystal’s or Amazon with some food. But No! It was Josie, returning the dinner accoutrements. She appreciated and enjoyed the meal anyway, and that cheered me up.
Put the trays and things away, and back to try again to do some graphics. The phone came to life again.
Aha! It was a lady from Nottingham City Council, about a food parcel. She told me that DG did a food parcel delivery. I embarrassingly said to her that I had looked at their service on the web, but all the box’s had food that I was not allowed in them. I did not trust myself to buy one, because the temptation to eat what I shouldn’t, like brassica, would possibly be too strong. Then I would be in trouble with the Warfarin levels going all over the place again. I can’t remember everything that was agreed on. But again, someone is going to call me about help with the shopping. I’m flummoxed, cause someone was going to do this today; unless it was the lady who called? She asked a lot of questions, and I had Stuttering Stephanie having a go at me. Humph!
I checked on the Amazon trackers one more time. At least I’ve got tea, Marmite, porridge nuts, and eventually, milk on the way.
I got the nosh prepped and served. Braised beef with the vegetables and gravy. The wholemeal bread thins I’d taken out of the freezer, had hard edges all around them. Not nice at all, I binned them. Hey-ho!
Bit of slip-up when pouring the gravy from the pouch into the bowl of vegetables, mind! A lot of it ended up on the tray, counter-top, cupboard doors and my jammie-bottoms! By the time I’d got it cleaned up, the meal was barely warm. So I left the other washing up and got down to devour it. It was passable, a rating of 5/10.
I then got the washing up sorted out, and with a tormenting mind, I settled to watch some TV. Anything with subtitles. Can’t even remember what I was staring blankly at, at the Thought-Storms persevered.
03:10hrs: A late awakening (for me), again. My mood was made up of, self-contempt, depression and acute dysphoria. The mind-storms began, just what I didn’t want. They only made me sink further into the dark abyss.
I reluctantly dismounted the rickety recliner, and as the emergency grey wee-wee bucket had not been utilised overnight, I limped off carefully, stick-assisted on my way to the wet room for a wee-wee.
I knew then, not that I didn’t already, that the day was not going to be a good one. As my EQ had also informed me. So this actually helped me in a way, cause if it is to be a hassling day, then there is nothing I can do about it, so the pressure lowered as I got in the room. This didn’t last long!
I had left the wall heater on overnight!
Not only that, but the hot water tap was dripping in the sink. I’d not turned it off completely, and the hot water was not hot any more! Although full of self-loathing, and more than a little pissed-off with myself, it could have been worse, I thought I handled this with a degree of, what’s the word? Erm… calmness, no that’s not it. Perhaps self-control would be a better adjectival. (I’m not sure that’s right either. Tsk!)
The mind toyed and played away with itself and me while I took the wee-wee. I had plenty of time to peruse ideas, plans, dejections etc., cause the leak turned out to be an MMES (Marathon-Messy-Endless-Sprinkling) one. I cleaned up, Little Inchies fungal lesion needed attention.
Washed and exited to the kitchen. Taking a picture as I went through the door, that I thought might come out alright and of interest. (It didn’t! But that was no surprise, to me)
An expectancy of failures and fearfulness began to develop in my mind. But not worryingly. Just a certain knowledge that these things are on the way to visit me. No doubt in my mind at all. (Secretly, I hoped I was wrong!)
I set about updating the Saturday post, but it was slow going, thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters gong down so often. Again this and any other calamity could happen today. I’ll look and sound a right fool if nothing goes wrong, Hahaha!
I took a break and went to take the medications and make a brew. Olive-oiled the ear-holes. I also took an extra pain killer as the toothache seemed to be threatening to kick-off again. The damn ‘Hum’ started getting so load, it pee’d me off!
While I was in there, I took another shot of the moon. In fact, I took several, but they all came out terrible and blurred, this is the only half-decent one on the right, I managed to get.
Back to the computer, but I’m afraid that the concentration went. I found myself looking up the latest news on the Nottinghams Coronavirus progress. It was not good. An otherwise healthy eighteen-year-old had died with it.
I wondered if I should now stop making humorous graphics about the virus?
I farted about and struggled to get the Saturday blog finished and sent off.
Then went to make another brew, and get the mushrooms and leeks in the saucepan. It’s amazing how quickly the canned food is disappearing. The balsamic vinegar, hickory and plain salt stocks are dwindling. Still, I have plenty of tea. Haha! I got the sourdough part-baked baguette out…
Tsk! It was well beyond its use-by date! I think I used the one last week, out of sync. Grumble-Soddit & Blast! Idiot!
I went on Pinterest, WordPress Reader and Facebooking. Then returned to the grind of setting up and beginning this post. The fingers lack of-touch sense, was not easing off. Although I had been told this would happen, I still felt a bit miffed about it. The vagueness was coming as well.
About to go and get Josie’s nosh started, and Sister Jane and Pete rang up. A lot went over my head that we spoke about. They seemed concerned about my money situation. We spoke for a good while, but what else about had gone by the time I got to writing this. And no Doctor I can to now. Oh, dear!
I got the things out ready for doing the meal.
A few wee-wees were taken during the computing; all of the same variety.
I went on the Amazon site and ordered some Glengettie tea bags and other stuff, got carried away a bit, but I need all I’ve ordered, cause I can’t get out to the shops who sell them, well, not any shop at all!
Then, to the kitchen again, and got the handwashing done. Only a t-shirt and a pair of socks, so it didn’t take lone, I actually enjoyed doing it. I think the struggling with the keyboard with fingers that don’t recognise what they are doing at the time they are doing it, is getting to me now.
I went down a further notch, emotionally.
Off to get the ablutions done. And, I really had to laugh for the first time today! When I was disrobing and taking off the alert wristbands;
The Warfarin band snapped and it shot up in the air…
I didn’t see where it came down and got a smidge befuddled as to where it went…
Then felt it drop from my head, down into the glasses I had on!
Hahahaha! I did feel a clot! This is not a photo of the happening, I put the broken band back as near as I could remember it falling down to, to take this photo.
Well, that definitely perk me up a bit! (Confused me at the same time, Haha!)
When I started ablutionisationing session, the dropsies must have been close to a record number today. As I recall, they were; The toothbrush (2) toothpaste (1), Two blade razor (3), four-blade razer (1), Antiseptic bottle (1), Carbolic soap (5), Saccades spray (1), Savlon cream (1), Daktacort cream (3) and Spectacles (2).
On the bright side, there were no toe stubbings, walking into or knocking anything over, and I made sure the taps, shower, and heater were all off! (But this did not stop me going back to check later, Humph!)
Got Josie’s nosh done. I put the rest of the potatoes in the oven for me to keep warm and have later, then off the deliver the nosh on the wheeled server.
This time, the gal seemed more with it and said she didn’t expect a meal today. (I wish she’d told me earlier, Hahaha!) However, her face lit up and off she went to masticate to her heart’s content.
I returned to the kitchen and a did a bit of washing up, then got on the computer. I was feeling a little easier in myself now. Nicodemus was less bother, so I pressed on with updating this post while things were working properly (Not referring to the brain or memory of course) Humph!
I checked emails to see if Amazon had any time guides for me. I could barely recall ordering all this stuff! I must have meant to, cause I needed everything on the order. It looks like they are all coming on the 14-15th, April, so that’s good, I’ll need teabags and milk by then.
I was feeling all so pleased with myself, smug almost…
I had a search for the Golden Volunteers suggested Thompson Bros. shop to use for online delivered fodder.
It was in Sherwood, on Haydn Road. But as you can see, orders had been temporarily suspended.
As I mentioned earlier, will owt ever go right for me?