00:05hrs: I stirred into mock-life, looked around and saw much evidence of nocturnal-nibbling having been committed, and pondered on my hopes and dreams, fears and worries. Then thought Sod-it. Guilty-Mode Engaged!
– Then, I realised I was half-on the recliner, with the better leg hanging partly-off, and I was sitting on my left hand? After freeing the arm and hand, I found this had given me apaesthesia in the thumb and fingers. So, as I used my appendages to help raise myself out of the £300 second-hand seat, I found that I dropped back into it with a thud – and clouted my right elbow against the arm of the recliner! (Fancy that, I said?)
Personal Thoughts at the time: (were, something along the lines of), “Oh hell, is it going to be yet another day of frustrations with —-/-all going right?” I didn’t want to get up; and had to have a discussion with myself about the situation (Haha!). My EQ butted into the conversation, reminding me that there is nothing I can do to avoid further harassments and mental-turmoil, so I might as well get up and face it, I should be used to it all by now!”
So, I rose, more carefully this time from the chair gained my balance, grabbed the stick, and wandered wobblingly to the kitchen. Wondering what I was doing, who I was, where I was, and in a semi-confused state of mind. (T’was not that bad really, but my imagination took over there, sorry)
It was eight hours too early for me to use the hoover to clean up, I thought, not that I was bothered about it. I got the kettle on, made whar will probably be the highlight of the day, a mug of Glengettie Gold tea! With the chemist leaving without tablets and medications for five days, I nearly forgot to take them. Phwert!
No sooner had I poured out the brew, the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I limped, with the stick and picking up the camera on the way, to have a view of the state of the legs this morning. They had regained some colour which was a good thing, but they were yellow!
The evacuation went okay. Sticky-messy, but little pain and no bleeding. So, fate had slipped me a teaser in there? Something to get me feeling optimistic, before the storm, perhaps? Or am I being too pessimistic? Mmm! Ah, well, I did the cleaning up, returned to fetch the now almost cold mug of tea, and got the computer on to update the Thursday blog. Which was far too long and took me five hours to complete. But, it was yet another of those Thursdays. A stomach-in-knots, tenterhook-lingering, in-a-tizzy, frustrating, delirium producing days, that went on and on with its let-downs and failures, until I lost the will to carry on! Hence my attitude when I woke up this morning, I suppose.
It’s the onslaught of the ailments, ticker-change to mechanical, ulcers, arthritis, getting shot, the stroke, old age. Senility and suffering days like the last few etc. that has turned me into the poltroon, nervous confident-less-wreck, misanthrope, worrier and prophet of doom I am today. Hey-Ho! Just thought I’d mention it. I left out losing my memory and mind. Back to the diary, I wandered off there again. Fool!
Despite the best efforts of Mr (overpaid for the skills he hasn’t got) Fries best efforts…
I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress.Went on TFZer Facebooking. Viewed the WP Reader, and had a wee-wee of record length. No, it was! It began unwillingly and hurtfully dribbled for a couple of seconds, then gained momentum and flowed forcefully for… I don’t know how long, but it felt like five-minutes or more! Ah,-well, it made for a change!
I made brew watched U-Tube while I drank it, with a few orange chocolate digestive bikkies.
The ablutions next. And a jolly decent effort it was too! The dropsies were only about six in total. (The neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain of my synapse nerve contacting, were really the best they have been for days – of course, it didn’t last long, but was much appreciated while it lasted! [Yee-Haa!]) The sock-glide battle was injury-free! The medicating was painless, and the bleeding was to a minimum. It seemed to be going well, all foreign to me, I was a bit worried!
I got the black bags, recycling materials and glass jars sorted for taking down with me. I checked and rechecked, then checked again, to make sure I had left everything safe, and had taken all the things needed for my bus ride to the shopping (And boy, did I do some!) trip to Arnold. I hate this dithering and procrastinating undecidedness, but that’s how it is nowadays!
I opted to get the handwashing done, to avoid the need when I got back from the shopping. My EQ told me (and it was right) that I would be too done-in and shattered to do it then! So, it was done, wrung and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, Hehehe!
Jacket on, keys, bus-pass, cash card, money, crossword book, pen, etc. checked, bags balanced on the trolley-walker and I set off. Putting the bags down the waste-chute, a feeling, a nagging doubt that I had disremembered something, but could not bring it to mind. Very agrannoying!
Down in the lift, plenty of the sprinkler fitters about, I hope the elevators don’t go down again. Out to take the glass jars, to put them with the hundreds of empty alcoholic bottles in the green bin (Touch of jealousy here, Hehe!), and the recycling bag in the big container. The rain started to fall as I went back into the foyer.
Innit marvellous?I’ve been forced to stay indoors for six days, waiting, stewing, impatiently, forever feeling iller as time went by. For the Top Three Pharmacies in Nottingham, The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, 5 days for their overdue delivery of my prescriptions, without my beta-blockers and painkilling Codeine 30g medications, and the first time I can get out – it rains for the first time in six days!
Lucky bugger, I am!
I made my way through the link-passageway into the warmth of Windwood Court, very welcoming having a heated communal place, lovely! Called at the Obergruppenführeresses Wardens interrogation and strip-search room. Haha! We had a natter, and the nibbles and treats were handed out.
As I was leaving, the ‘Something missing or not done’ problem was solved! I realised I had not got my mobile phone or camera with me. Crabs and Grobblecraps! So, back through to Woodthorpe Court. Up the elevator and in the flat, to collect the items forgotten by the senile elderly resident.
Back down the same route in reverse, with a few words of self-condemnation, and thought Winwood into Winchester Court. I noticed through the window that the rain was now a lot worse.
(Well, it would be, of course, I was about to leave to catch the bus! Humph!)
A group of reprobates, no, I mean residents had gathered in the Winchester foyer, keeping dry while waiting for the bus to arrive. I had a great laugh and natter and immediately found myself cheered up. I handed out some nibbles, as the bus arrived. A sort of, a slow-motion stampede of residents, walker-guides and sticks cluttered our way out to the bus shelter. Getting well soaked through before we reached the cover under the plastic shelter, then jostled for a dry spot to stand, Hahaha! The City bus came first, and I got on the Bestwood bound one, with about six fellow-Winwoodonians.
They all got off in Sherwood, and I was the last one left on the bus. Which soon picked up more passengers en route. I got involved in the crosswording en route, with a small degree of success as well. Smug-Mode-Engaged! Along with several others, I got off on High Street and endured the shoulder charging battle to get to the pelican crossing lights first, to get out of the rain quickerer. I got there last, of course.
I hobbled along Front Street in the rain, slowly getting the clothes soaked a little more, and somehow the precipitation had found its way into my left shoe as limped along? Surely this shoe can’t be leaking? It’s only about the third time I’ve worn them from new. Knowing my luck, I wondered why I thought that!
I had the shopping all planned. Savers, check on cleaning things prices, then Boyes next door for over the counter medications if a good price, Germolene etc.. Iceland for the tinned potatoes. Boots for the Co-Codamol, Fulton Foods for a bargain hunt, then Asda for some Lemon Curd yoghourts. That’s the plan anyway!
Saver Store: I got to the Savers store. They had Germolen at £1, A Floella orange and lime disinfectant 99p, Deo fab at 99p and a lemon Loo-Phoo at 89p. At the checkout, I had a Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun attack. The lady serving me was patient bless her.
Boyes: A roll of small waste bags £1, Neutrodol spray at £1, Lavender Dettol £2, Foot spray £1, Yardley lemon-scented soap bar £1.25 and a Zoflora lemon disinfectant. I even had a funny turn at there checkout? But far less embarrassing.
I came out and the rain had, lessened to a drizzle. I got in a doorway and spread the load out to even the balance, using a carrier bag, the basket on the trolley, and the bag.
On the way to Iceland, Saccades Sandra forced me to stop for a while until she cleared, so I could see correctly. A bit unnerving. Into the shop, got two tins of the new potatoes, a bag of wholemeal sliced cobs, pork & pickle mini pies and a pack of cooked meat off-cuts.
Now I was struggling to get everything in the available bags etc., so thought I hope that Fulton’s do not have any bargains really, cause I’ll not be able to resist them and be in a right state carrying them, but knowing me. Haha!
Into Boots to the counter and asked for some Co-Codamol. I explained why I needed them, as a safeguard in case the chemist lets me down again. After a five-minute lecture on not taking them for any more than three days and various advice, she let me have a box. £3.79.
Fulton Foods: Oh dear, they had some pull-top opening garden peas. I just had to get some. Tsk! I got some Galaxy darker-milk chocolate, and a 1litre bottle of white vinegar for cleaning.
There were no funnies at the checkout.
I had to do a bit of quick thinking then. The L9 bus was due in twenty-minutes. Asda, across the road, me wanting some Lemon Curd yoghourt, but would I get them in time to catch the bus? I hastened to the store, as the rain got a little more substantial.
Asda: Got inside and straight to the dairy shelves, but could not see any lemon yoghourt whatsoever? No staff around to ask. I decided to leave it. But spotted they had some rather temptingly delicious-looking blood orange dark chocolate bars, so I grabbed one and made my way to the self serve tills. I paid up and shot out as fast as my little, plump, hairy legs would let me! Up the hill to the bus stop. Where, a shoulder charging, a tut-tutting gang of people were shouldering for a position under the shelter to keep out of the rain. I didn’t take part, too risky!
A couple of busses arrived, and this cleared a gap for me under the shelter. And this is where an overgrown old man, nearly cried! Sob! I realised that in my rush not to miss the bus, I’d not collected my change for the orange bar, from the Asda till! Humph! So, I opened the bar and ate some of it! Well, I say some of it… erm… most of it. It was delicious, but me not picking up my change, took the edge off of the flavour a smidge!
When the L9 arrived, late, getting me, the trolley-guide, two bags of shopping and the full-of-foods basket on top, was a work of art, although not quickly done. The highlight of the incident was the laughter it brought from the other passengers! Hahaha! It appears I had accidentally taken some pictures throughout the trip, these are they, that I cannot recall taking: One, possibly in Asda although I can’t remember taking the camera out in there? The other obviously on the bus, maybe in Sherwood when I took the intended one of the rain on the way back?
This one I meant to take. Just before we arrived in Sherwood, just past the hospital on Edwards Lane, it was.
In Sherwood, I expected the bus to pick-up some of the Winwoodonians, but nobody from the flats got on. They must have got home early to avoid the weather? I don’t blame em!
I got off the bus at the flats. My struggle to get the trolley down off of the step of the bus and the lid fell off from my little basket, instigated much hilarity from the other tenants waiting to get on the bus.
Anything to amuse. That’s me. Hehe!
I made straight back to the flat. And, oddly enough, as I struggled to get the trolley through the door, the little grey lid shot off again. I think it might have to go? I detached the wire basket, emptied the trolley bag and got all the things into the kitchen. Got them all stored away, found the receipts and put them near the computer for taking details from in the morning. For I sure was too tired to be up to doing do any computerisationing now.
I put the tablets away, after having a peek at the two-sided advice leaflet: Note please, I said a peek at, they were far too small to read. Harumph! Then I set about making a meal of monumental proportions. I don’t know why I do this? There never a cat-in-hells chance that I could eat it all! Wot a plonka!
I went fro a wash and polish-up. The little hobble had done the legs some good, I think.
I got settled in the £300 second-hand recliner to watch some TV. Over the next hour, the landline flashed twice. But both times it had stopped before I could get to it. Humph!
But the Arthur Itis knees and Back-Pain-Brenda gave me hardly any bother at all. Some other good benefit, come from the hobble?
I soon nodded of after the second call, and had a long kip!
01:20hrs: I woke in a rather gentle, reluctant, ‘I’m not really interested’ fashion. Within a few seconds, this all changed as the rarity of my grey cells ‘memory box’, burst into activity! “The medications have to taken, and now. Despite the best efforts of Carrington Pharmacy, I had some tablets to take now!”
With temporary, unthinking, casual aplomb, I rose from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, up onto my feet, and got a reaction from Arthur Itis’s knees, well one knee, the right one. I was soon back down in the recliner, holding the knee as mentioned above, and squinching with the pain. Fortunately, past experiences had made me keep a tube of the Fenbid Forte pain gel on the Ottoman. I liberally applied a dollop of to the patella. Then more slowly this time, I got to my feet, things were a lot calmer with the leg now, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and started to move towards the kitchen.
I didn’t get, but a few hobbled paces, when I had to divert to the Porcelain, at last things were moving in the innards, a little too quickly for me, so I did a bestest ever-time to get in and seated, and things started of their own accord, then half-way, everything stuck! I ended up getting the crossword book and having a bash at the puzzles. For, I knew it would be a while before things started moving again.
I’d got about eight answers in before the action restarted, and it did so very suddenly, quickly and uncomfortably! I really feared that the blood would be all over the bowl and myself. I was gobsmacked when I didn’t see any, not a speck! This was a new Throne scenario for me. I wondered if I was still asleep and dreaming?
But, no, this was proven when I’d cleaned things up and turned away to get to the sink for washing my dandies, and I trod on the pen that I had not noticed I’d dropped on the floor. A little more wincing and grimacing followed. It hurt more than the entire session on the seat did! I broke the pen too! Tsk! Hey-ho!
I rubbed in some more gel on the knee and took a couple of snaps. Amazingly, they were back to the pale, colourless, ashen, anaemic, ‘I think-I-must-be-dead’ state? A few new blood-papules coming up gave it a bit of colour, mind. Hehehe!
What a transformation from yesterday! Transubstantiated in twelve hours?
I eventually got to the kitchen, for the critical stuff to be done, take the medications and make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea! Argh me hearties!
I checked out the blister-packs of tablets that arrived five-days late and forcing me to miss so many doses; from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Plenty of advice notes on the various medications, side-effects, contents etc. were sent with them this time. Oddly enough, all warning about missed doses!
I made the brew and took this mornings dosages. Ear-holes oiled, Saccades-Sandra drops put in, etc. all done.
As I got in the front room to make a start on the blog updating, I heard a swift-rumbling sort of noise. I had a hobble around, convinced that something or other had fallen over in the flat, but found nothing. It might have been someone from a higher floor using the waste-chute out of hours (08:00 to 20:00hrs), but I’m not sure what it was.
I had the first wee-wee of the day, and it was a lengthy MEPP (Marathon-Endless-Painfull-Persistent) one. That would most likely be from taking the Furesomide water tablet, perhaps. After all, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, I haven’t had any to take for five days. So I anticipate getting these painful blaster-type wee-wees for a while yet. How many days have I been stuck in the flat now? Mainly thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA delivering the medications five days late.
I’d love to get out and about again. But today, the Morrison order, the window cleaner and a chance of Leoni coming from the NHS Medicines Team (I hope Leoni does visit, then I can tell her of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Their late prescriptions and the Furesomide not being put separately as they had promised they’d be done!) Bitter? Me? Yes! And I still want to see the Doctor, (I will ask for some Anxiolytics, tell her about the dizzies and falling over, and hopefully other stuff if I can find the list I made two months ago), and I have to see the Bank Manager. Still bitter? Me? Yes! Well, pissed-off anyway!
I hope the beta-blocker (Bisoprolol Fumarate) starts to have some effect, the old ticker is going too hard at the moment but might calm down now I’ve had a tablet. As was expected when Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA left me with no pills for five-days! (I must stop this getting back at Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, I’ll not mention the unreliable, unsafe, untrustworthy, uncaring, dangerous chemist again! Well, I’ll try my bestest not to.)
At last, I made a start on computing. I started this blog off first. Then moved onto finishing the Wednesday blog, that contains some painful and bitter memories, I think I may have delayed it due to this. The usual selection of name-given ailments slowed things throughout. Saccades-Sandra, Lethologica Lynda, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, the dying Nigel’s Neurotransmitters and the odd wee-wee. Which was interesting to me. Because having taken a Furesomide pill, I expected little and often releases, but they were not that many, however, all of the MEPP (Marathon-Endless-Painful-Persistent) style. Just thought I’d mention it, like.
I moved the handwashing around, some onto the airer, the shirt hung on the coathanger I’d freed by taking off the shirt I was going to wear today, and what a picklement of a state it was in! Only the second time I’ve washed this one. The first time the dark chocolate brown colour changed to black when cleaned. It is now a mixture of dark greens and yellows? Mmm? I am colour blind, though. But I thought it was on reds?
Off to tackle the ablutionary duties good-and-early, so as not to miss the arrival of the Morrison delivery.
Another interesting event! A record amount of dropsies I think this morning. Toothbrush, toothpaste, toothbrush pot, shaving foam can (2), razors (5), carbolic soap (2), flannel, Body spray, Germoloid tube, olive-oil jar, Savlon tube, Flash cleaner bottle, bleach bottle cap (I still haven’t found that!), freshener granule pot (Bad this one, it broke and took a bit of muttered-bad-language and effort to clean it up. Still, the wet room smells nice now, Hehehe!) There may have been more.
The worst being the dreaded, prospectively lethal sock-glide! It fell from my grip when moving it, hit the deck and bounced back up again. Guess where it hit me? Between the legs, say no more, other than maybe… Arrrghhhhh! I wouldn’t have minded so much, but how the heck did it find the smallest appendage in the country to hit! Humph!
There’s a thought, I wonder if the Tate Gallery would be interested in some photos of… No, no, No! My Delphic nature and self-confidence are at a low enough level already, thank you.
The pins (legs) appeared to be in a transmogrificationalistic stage to me.
The veins were slowly working their way to a more highlighted-condition, I thought.
One leg was bigger than the other one again, too! The blotchiness increasing. They were even pastier and anaemic than yesterday.
And to think, a couple of days ago, I was commenting on how almost normal they were looking! Tsk! Haha!
I’ll bet a penny to a pound that they will be different again tomorrow. (Note how cunningly I put penny and pound in the opposite way around?) You can’t rely on this Peripheral Neuropathy, you know!
I was out of the wet room for a few minutes and the intercom panel lit up. It was the Morrison delivery man. He was soon up at the door, surprised that I had remembered the return carriers and had them waiting in the hallway. Smug-Mode-Engaged! He took the bags through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him and off he went.
I got them unpacked and checked the things out with the list from the internet.
I had three cans of Whisky Cola as treats; one of them was all bashed-in and dented. Shame! Then I found the bananas were green, but they should ripen by about April, so no worry. The sliced Chestnut mushroom only had two days life on the label, and didn’t look very good at all! But was I bothered? Oddly, no!
Something, scheme, decision, plan, or flimflam-stratagem was formulating, brewing inside my head as I put away the fodder. But the brain wasn’t letting on to me what it was! Well, that how it is when you have a high EQ and the lowest IQ. Hopefully whatever is maturing in the head, will reveal itself shortly.
The fridge was back to its usual cram-packed state, and in need of some put-of-date checks, I believe. Hehe! Without doing any, I had to dish some cooked ham, and tub of butter as I filled up the fridge.
I’d only ordered one bag of oven chips to go in the freezer. But had to dish a part bag of fries to make room to get it in!
I must try to do some of the smoked haddock for tonight’s nosh. I already had some normal mushrooms in the fridge, so I got them in the crock-pot cooking. I might have them with the haddock, potatoes and garden peas, perhaps. It depends on when the window cleaner arrives.
Too late and I will not be able to get down to the bank or go to the Doctors surgery. It’s the odd hours I keep, you know! Head down around 15:00hrs, up at anything from 22:00 to 00:30hrs. Unless like yesterday, when I had to stay up for the five-days late prescription medications to arrive. Another thing, what am I waffling on about?
I should really be getting on with creating some graphics, I’m desperately short of any ready to use. But it’s hard to get into it knowing someone maybe, perhaps, possibly might be calling or not. But, I’d love to get out and about for a bit, having been stuck indoors, curtesy of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Whoops!
Awaiting the window cleaner couple. Nope, too late for the bank now, I’d never get there in time before he leaves. Also, the Doctors visit is knackered. Also, Aldi. Lidl shopping can’t be done. Bloody good job I had the bits from Morrisons. Well, that’s six days stuck indoors now!
I moved all the things off of the kitchen window shelf in readiness for the window cleaner pair to arrive (More in hope than expectancy, now).
I decided to go down to see Jenny, taking the bag of Balsamic vinegar crisps, cause I know she and Frank love them and ask if the window cleaner had started yet. I took just the stick, which was rather brave of me (Hahaha!).
I got to the lift lobby and was just about to press the call button, and both head-lights went out indicating the death of the elevators! Well, if that doesn’t represent my unfortunate nature, I don’t know what will. Humph! Then it dawned on me, today is the upgrading work by the Mansells Fire Sprinkler team. Ah, well! A touch of pragmatism had attached itself to me, and no-hassle or annoyance rose at all.
I decided that I would just use the stairs to get down to Jenny’s! (You can see by this, that Arthur Itis was in a kind mood with me) So, off I set, slowly and carefully down the six flights of concrete stairs, clinging to the handrail, naturally. I was doing well, much better than the last time I used these steps.
Half-way down, and the lights went out and for just a second or so, total darkness! I made the already fast-beating heart jump a bit, but I immediately recognised why; it will be the fire sprinkler workers testing things? As I mentioned the emergency lights came on, and I could see my way easily enough. If there had been fire smoke, I don’t think it would have been possible to see though, it was not too bright a light. Heigh-ho!
I got to Jennies, rang the bell, and it was so nice to see her again when she opened the door. We had a little natter, and she informed me that the man and woman who do the windows had not turned up today. Bother! And I’d just cleared all that stuff off of the window shelf as well, Ha! I thanked her for the info and made my way (Still taking my time, determined not to have any incidents with the walking stick) back down the cement steps in the fire escape back to the twelfth floor. All went well, and I found that the four-pronged walking stick to be harder work, but far safer to use, cause it made sure I didn’t rush things, having to take an extra second or so each step, to get it firmly and evenly on the ground, but that is a good thing I thought, as long as I’m not rushing it! So, I learnt something today.
Got back to the flat, and found a letter had been delivered. My heart always sinks when I get a letter, well, an official-looking one. It was from the Medicines team, Leoni. She is calling to see me next Tuesday, 21st January at 10:20hrs. This was exciting! Oh, yes! At last, I can get a chance to tell someone who is interested, and might do something to help, about the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA delivering the medications five days late, leaving me without beta-blockers, and failing to separate the Furesomide tablets as they promised they would do. Yee-Haa! But I mustn’t get my hopes up. Deja vu, ignis fatuus and will o” the wisp and all that!
I had to put back all the things onto the kitchen window shelf. It’s being so lucky that keeps me going!
I got the nosh cooked and served up. As usual, for recently, I made far too much than I could eat. Worthy of indistinction was the Icelands Moroccan tomatoes: Tough as leather, tasteless and unjuicy. Their smoked Haddock was also taste-free and resembled coloured cardboard! Everything else was fine. Flavour-rating? A generous 5/10.
The lemon-curd yoghourt and lemon Whirls mini-cakes were highly acceptable to the taste-buds!
I got pots done, then the handwashing done, rung and hung.
I’ll be locking the door for once, at 15:00hrs, and refuse to answer it if anyone arrives now, I need sleep and recuperation, from yet another harrowingly day of feather-brained thinking, let downs, failures and malfunctioning mind-meandering. That came out well, dinnit? Haha!)
An old Sherlock Holmes, 1939, with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce the best ones, was on the TV. I got settled in time for the start and watched until the first set of advertisements came on. Zzzz!
23:40hrs: After failing to get back to sleep in hopes of returning to a fantastic dream I was having, I gave up trying to get any meaningful sleep in. I kick-started the stubbornly reluctant brain into a semi-working state and thought-through the upcoming day’s conditions, needs, prospects, and fears. The stomach pains were still with me, but nowhere near as bad as they were last night. The strange stabbing pains in the right knee will be tested when I escape the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner.
The serious stuff needed sorting, as best I could anyway. I wrote down these reminders as they came to mind on the pad where last night, I had scribbled notes about the dream, cause I saw the funny side of things for the first time for ages;
The talk with the Bank Manager. Today’s Prospects of achieving: 0%
Will the prescriptions that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA arrive this Wednesday; after they have left me with no medications for four days now, in a panic! Today’s Prospects of achieving: 40%
Will the peripheral neuropathy right knee’s new pains probably caused by Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA failure to deliver my prescriptions that forced me to take some older out of date tablets, let me walk this morning? I’ll find out in a few minutes. Today’s Prospects of achieving: 15%
Will the newly formed stomach pains, probably caused by Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA failure to deliver my prescriptions that forced me to take some older out of date tablets, be as bad again? Today’s Prospects of much agony: 100%
Might I manage a Porcelain Throne evacuation today, that will be painless and bloodless? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 45%.
Can this day be a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance-free one? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 50%
Will any toe-stubbings take place? Prospects of achieving: 90%.
Is there any chance of having a Dizzy Dennis-free day? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 0%.
Will I get to see the Doctor at last today? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 10%. The 10-percent is just in case the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, do make the delivery of my medications (Miracles I can still hope for!), albeit four days late! Swine! Not that it matters if the kneecap will not let me walk anyway. Pissed-off? Me?
I must catch-up on the handwashing. Today’s Prospects of achieving: 60%.
Will the dreaded ‘Hum’ all around the flat give me rest today? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 0%.
Free-myself of insanity, despair, worry, or fear? Today’s Prospects of achieving: 0%.
Well, writing this cheered me up.
The bête noire of removing my bloated, blubbery, bulky, beetling-bellied body from the recliner, was done with a certain amount of nervousness and tension, as I rose to my feet, to test out the knee-cap. I grabbed the walking stick, and gingerly took a few paces… Ah, obviously, Arthur Itis is going to give me some pain, but it was not too bad at all! Off to the kitchen, I hobbled, with a Smug-Mode developing. Haha!
Shaking Shaun, along with Arthur Itis and Duodenal Donald toyed with me, as I made a brew and sorted through the medical drawers in search of old tablets I could use. I managed to find two out-of-date, mind. A Ramipril (Hypertension Herbert), and a loose yellow capsule, I think was a Lansoprazole (Duodenal Donald). No Codeine 30g, Bisoprolol (Betablocker-Ticker), Atorvastatin (Liver), Furosemide (Water retention) or Ranitidine (Reflux Roger) left to use. I do hope they arrive today!
I gave the Arthritic knees a good rubbing in of Fenbid Forte gel. They looked well filled with fluid and were not their usual pale colouring. The sesamoid bone area looked a bit inflamed, well, a lot actually? But that might be because I’d just dolloped on, and rubbed in the pain gel?
I took a couple of snaps of them. I managed with a little contortionalistical manoeuvering, to use the left hand to operate the camera, and they came out okay. The spider veins are looking artistic as well, rather Picasso style? Hehehe!
I wonder if an art gallery might buy one? Or medical training faculty might be interested in using them? (Help yourself!) Maybe I could send one to the people who may have caused this problem for me in the first place, by not delivering my prescriptions on time, four days late already; Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA! Grrr!
Even if they should thaumaturgically turn up with my life-saving medications today, and of course that in itself is not guaranteed, after all, they are not even a week late with them yet, I will forever hold it against them for the suffering they have made me go through! The ticker is going like the clappers at this moment and giving a dull pain. If I croak-out before the beta-blocker tablets get here, I, like Harry Houdini, the Hungarian-born American illusionist and stunt performer, would love to come back and get my revenge! Mind you, he failed! Hahaha!
Enough of this Tom Foolery!
The ‘Hum’ was getting even louder again, now! The chest pains more severe and, a tightness with it.
I pressed and got the Tuesday post finish and done with. It took a long time because I kept wandering back to the chemist fiasco each time the ticker ached, knees hurt, or I had to take great gulps of air. Thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, not supplying my medications and painkillers!
Went on the Pinterest then WordPress Reader. I tried again to use the Porcelain Throne, but no movement.
Got some bikkies, made a brew, and went on UT.
I got the handwashing seen to, done, wrung and hung. Only a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of socks.
When I was wringing out one of the socks, the stroke-sides arm neurotransmitter failed, and the hosiery slipped from my fingers. I shot down to try and catch it, missed it, picked it up, and, I’m afraid that I clouted the back of my head, and got the dizzies at the same time… grabbed for the stick and belted my elbow on the edge of the draining board and dropped the stick! It made me blink!
Quite a feat really, three-in-one, even for me! Snicker!
Then, I went to get the ablutionisationing done. And things went almost accident-free! The Porcelain Throne was utilised first to try and push the overdue evacuation that just has to be building up in the innards, and hey presto, a ton-and-a-half removal! Hahaha! Well, it felt like it! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids either! (Is my luck changing, getting better? [Don’t ask stupid questions Inchcock])
No cuts shaving or doing the teggies. Fair enough, a few dropsies, toothbrush (2), the can of foam, the carbolic soap, and razors (3), but this is par for the course and not excessive by any means.
All in all, the actual washing was all done safely. Although it helped the injury free period, by my not using the infamous finger-chewing sock-glide. With staying in, well being forced to stay in by Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, just because they may, might and possibly could be going to call today with the prescriptions… although they have lied before! So, I didn’t put any socks on.
The Corticosteroid, Hydrocortisone, Savlon, Anusol, Clobetasone Butyrate, Fenbid-Forte, and Varesil creams, lotions, gels and potions were applied to the many ailing parts of my decaying overweight flabby body. The ear canals were olive-oiled, the eye-wash used, and then I’d got the full medicationalisticalisationing process completed. The eau-de-toilette and Brute sprinkled about.
Moving the shower chair and glide back into the wet room afterwards, I got them where I wanted them, and turning around, I gave myself a toe-stubbing, of singularly acute quality, pain-wise! Argh! All dressed and got the black bags taken to the waste chute and back before 09:00hrs. Just so as not to miss, although it may prove fictitious yet, the arrival of the medications? Now the waiting game… Will Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA arrived as promised? Will it be early or 22:00hrs? Will they have everything on the prescription? Will I still be alive when they get here? Who knows?
I went on the TFZer Facebooking page for a while. But it became several hours as I wallowed in enjoyable communicationalisationing with the TFZers.
It got even betterer in between. Gaynor ♥ sent me a message asking how I was going with the medicationalistic problem, supplied to me so kindly by the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA not delivering the monthly prescriptions. She patiently asked for details and offered to call the chemist for me, to make sure when they would be delivered for me. I gave her the wrong number, and she had to message back to get the right telephone digits. Then later, she contacted me to tell me that the offending Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, had told her they ‘should’ be delivered, twixt 15>16:00hrs. That was kind and sweet of her to help[ me out! ♥
Then it was time to get some graphics started on CorelDraw. (After making another brew of tea, of course). Not long now to get anything done graphically speaking, but I’ll do my damndest!
The blokes doing the drilling on the fire sprinklers and the oh, so loud ‘Hum’ are competing to see which annoy me most!
The intercom flashed, and a young lady from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, was admitted.
The poor gal looked terribly guilt-ridden as she handed over a parcel of prescription medications. I forced as pleasant as I could manage ‘Thank You’ and she was off like a bolt of lightning. The delay that left me medication-less was not her fault I imagine.
So, it was now an hour beyond my usual head-down time. The ticker was racing away. I felt tired and confused, and Dizzy Dennis has just kicked-off!
I think I went into one of my ‘No-idea-what’s-happening-nor-care’ modes. I really do hate these! Moments, minute or hours are lost to the memory at times, with me not having the foggiest idea of what had taken place. Fortunately, it only lasted, I think anyway, for half-an-hour or so. No idea what I was doing.
I got the pan of baked beans and added some of the tikka things to it. No, chicken satay, I pulled them off the sticks and added them to the beans.
I enjoyed this quick, simple meal. Flavour rated at 6.5/10.
Got the pots in the bowl to soak, and got my head down.
I assumed, well believed, there was some valid reason for my only taking the Warfarin tablets and not anything else? I’m sure it made sense at the time.
23:25hrs: I bestirred reluctantly and was feeling terribly depressed, confused, and uncomfortably disorientated. The immediate problem was my uncertainty of whether or not I had really lost the blister-pack of medications. How had I got things so wrong as to run-out of beta-blockers, water-tablets, and Simvastatin amongst other important tablets? A lack of self-confidence and self-hatred came through to join the worries and fears for me to stew over. I actually felt sick, not physically, but inside. No help yet either, and this after two tablet-less days!
I’ll try Warden Deana again later, she did tell me to call around 09:00hrs, so she could ring the bank with me present. She said she’d phone the chemist for me later when the shop opened. But I have heard nothing. I believe she is having to work at another block of NCH flats as cover, so she’ll be up to her neck in it.
I need to know about the prescription and take action to get some more urgently. I’m so sorry it’s a dismal start to the diary, but I’m pretty depressed about how life is at the moment. I’ll try to lighten it up from here on, no promises, mind. Hehe!
The usual summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, which helped me snap out of the Self-Pity-Mode. Getting my ever-more-wobbly body from the £300, second-hand c1968 recliner was of little bother. Keeping my balance on the gentle trot to the Throne, was more difficult, thanks to Dizzy Dennis’s ministrations, which stayed for during this time. The evacuation was messy, but minimal bleeding anywhere. And it seemed to be a lot less in volume.
I cleaned up and then limped to the kitchen. Put the kettle on, and searched around again, hoping tp mysteriously find a blister pack of medications, but after half-an-hour, mostly searching in places that had already been perused, I’d had no luck. Depressionalisticalness moved to Defcon Three! I reheated the kettle and made a brew, and took some of the out-of-date tablets I’d found at the bottom of the drawer. I had Warfarin in stock, though, at least.
It was a sad figure that got to the computer to start the updating of the Sunday blog. There was a mixed bag of feelings clinging to me; fear, self-loathing, resentment, sadness, self-contempt, anxiety, confusion, and probably the strongest one, was of awkward helplessness. Depressionalisticalness moved to Defcon Two & three-quarters! Hehe!
I got the blog finished off and sent it to WordPress. During this time, I only needed three wee-wees. Smug-Mode nearly adopted, but I knew better! My EQ told me not to get too expectant of anything to go right – which really cheered me up. Tsk!
Off to make another brew, Glenghettie Gold this time. The innards rumbled threateningly while I was making the mug of Britain’s finest commonly available tea. On a par with black Glenghettie and Thompsons Punjana. All have different taste qualities. The Gold is strong and tasty with it. Straight black Glengettie, viciously strong, wonderful. The Thompsons Punjani just as tasty, but a tad less strong. Compared to the Twinings… What in heavens am I doing? Advertising teas! Shows the state of my warped, disintegrating mind, dunnit?
Within a few minutes of my being back at the computer, with but a few key-presses achieved…
Dangwangles, damn and blast the duplicitous, unreliable, crap, pathetic Liberty-Global and overpaid, bully, plutomaniac, greedy-con-man Fries!
So, I had to work on CorelDraw, until the internet connection returned. Had a wee-wee, all the few of then, this was only the forth, were of the BOTTTFA (Blasting-Out-Then-Trickling-For-Ages) mode! The GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket) was about a third-full already?
I sent some photos to Pinterest and went on the WordPress Reader. Then the TFZer Facebooking session. Then making yet another mug of tea (Today’s thirst for tea, is most voracious?), I took this snap of the moon and sky; it looks like it had been painted. The only clouds in view were a few lingering just above the planet.
I had some bikkies with the Thompsons tea. McVities orange chocolate digestives, well dunked. Haha! After they were enjoyed and imbibed, it was ablutionalisationing time.
And despite the rumbling innards, it was a most decent session. The dropsies were no more than four, no shaving cuts, toe-stubbings, or banging into or knocking anything over. Why even the sock-glide battle failed to produce any blood-blisters, bruises or blood! The EQ warned me not to get too excited, though? This brought the Panic-Depression-Defcon back to Three. Hehehe!
The noise from the ‘Hum’ seemed a little lower, I thought. Then as I got in the wet room, the racket from the Marlow Fire & Security Workmen kicked off. I reckon the yare getting closer than ever now, I could hear them while I was under the noisy shower without any hearing aids in!
The pins looked pretty good, got some colour back as well. Fair enough, they are a little fluid retaining at the moment.
But that is the fault of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. If anyone would care to visit them to tell them off for not delivering my prescription Medications and leaving me with a three-day period of not having tablets and medicines I need, for the ticker (Bisoprolol), depression (Esketamine) duodenal Donald, Arthur Itis (Codeine 30g – Phorpain Gel), etc.. Oh, and if you can give the uncaring swines a taste of your knuckles, I’d much appreciate it. Thanks!
I applied the last of the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. Olive-oiled the ear-holes, and had another wee-wee.
Deana was, as I expected, at another block of flats yesterday, so she could not let know. But the Chemist told her they have no one to deliver anything until Wednesday. But I can go and fetch the medications myself. That was nice of her! Wasn’t it? I decided to catch the bus down into Sherwood, try to talk to someone in the bank, then hobble into Carrington, make an appointment at the Doctors surgery, call in and moan to the crap Chemist, and pick up the prescription and visit the nearby Lidl store to get some bread. Then I got myself dressed up warmly and took the black bags to the waste chute on the way out. I’ll see ILC, Ballet-Dancer, Hauptsturmfuhreress Warden Deana, to see if she had found anything out from the Chemist or Bank from me.
Dropped off the bags and down on the elevator. This warning sign was in the wall of the lift, from the Marlowe gang and Nottingham City Homes.
It’s all go here!
I plodded through the link-corridor into Winwood Court and made my way to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation and Body Search Office. All three gals were in there today.
I decided I had no choice if wanted the medications, but to catch the bus down into Sherwood, try to talk to someone in the bank, then hobble into Carrington, make an appointment at the Doctors surgery, call in and moan to the crap Chemist, and pick up the prescription and visit the nearby Lidl store to get some bread. This could be painful, uncomfortable, and I’ll likely get caught in the forecasted heavy rain and die of pneumonia! Humph! Still, that’ll please the Pharmacist, Doctor, and Chiropodist!
I said my farewells and made it to the bus stop. Betty was there, and we started to have a natter and nibble, during which a violent pain emanated from the lower abdomen, abdominal area. It was so bad, I immediately told Bet I wasn’t feeling well and returned back to the flat, ASAP. I feared perhaps a massive accident might take place from the rear-end quarters. But had to stop occasionally as the stabbing pains got worse. As I hurried and repeatedly stopped, back to the apartment, I wondered if the out of date medications the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, had forced me to take by failing to deliver the new prescriptions, had caused something to go wrong? I got to the flat and left the three-wheeler outside and fumbled my way in and to the Porcelain Throne. But nothing happened, although the pain eased-off after five minutes or so? But the pain is still with me now, just not so bad.
Then, as I got up to wash and fetch the trolley inside, a sharp fracture-like pain came from the bottom of Arthur Itis’s patellar, and that is still giving me hell, on and off. I just can’t walk or even stand on it when it’s playing up. There’s no bruising, it doesn’t hurt when I apply pressure either. And the other mystery, the innards have now turned to a rumbling ache, well that’s the best I can explain it. The pain under the knee that comes and goes is the main worry now. But of course, tomorrow I have to stay in all day, just in case the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA decide to deliver me my medications? Pissed-off now to Defcon Two-level!
I started to update this blog, and Jenny rang me to tell me the window cleaner might call in the morning, bless her cotton socks. I’m afraid at the moment she rang, I was suffering, with the sharp knee-stabs, so I couldn’t really have the natter I would have liked to.
I purposely got myself up to have a hobble-about with the four-pronged stick, to see how the knee reacted, this time. It didn’t seem so bad, just the occasional stab on the way to make a brew. But coming back, it returned to a full-time problem? The innards low down were rumbling and stinging at the same time.
I suppose it’s a good job that I didn’t go out then.
I decided to do a Morrison order, just in case things go ape-shit with the intestines and knee. So I did! Hehe! Made it for Thursday 06:00 > 07:00hrs.
I wonder if I can sue the chemist? A touch of guilt over my attitude to the Chemist came over me. Come think about it, I am not aware of why things have gone ape-shit over the medications. There may have been an illness, accident, or death, anything that might have contributed to their failure to deliver? I’ll humbly take back the insults and sarcasm I’ve made – until I find out what the cause was. Shame deepens!
Got the nosh cooking, but not sure if its a good idea with the innards in this state. Oh, dearie me! Fish and potatoes, peas, and mushrooms were eaten slowly. The masticationalisationing was well-done.
When I took the pots to be washed, the knee was considerably less bothersome overall, but an occasional ‘Stop-you-in-your-tracks’ twinge was there. The stomach was continually churning gently, but no signs yet of any movement being needed. If it is brewing up, I hope it doesn’t suddenly catch me out! I’m sure there will soon be an evacuation required eventually, and I am nervous of what shape and form it will come in. Haha! Hopefully not a bloodied, ‘wait-an-hour’ for the action to start, then regret that it did mode! But, all the signs are indicating it will be.
Too unwell to even think about doing the handwashing. The mess is building up in the kitchen, but the means of sorting it are not available to me at the moment. Did the washing of the pots and pans etc. then got a bottle of orange juice and settled in the recliner to watch some TV. Hoping the pains and pangs will be less bothersome. And they did ease off after I got viewing!
But I soon found I was drifting-off and waking repeatedly. Each time, wondering where I was and what time it was when I awoke! Tsk! By the time my brain had got around to trying to sort out anything, I’d nod-off again, usually waking up again within a few minutes and going through the ‘Who am I, what day is it’ routine.
I must have stayed asleep for a while, enough to have a dream anyway, and it seemed so real, too. (How long does it take to have a dream?) I woke up and was in the bedroom of 6, Brookfield Place, (c1955), and a child again. But I woke up in the cream, knowing it was not real and aware of all the disasters I had to face all over again. The unheated bedroom had ice and frost on it, and the soot-covered railway viaduct wall was visible… I floated out through the wall and flew around the back yard, the bathtub hanging on the wall, Dad’s home-made cobbling bench, the row of outside toilets and coal-houses, Christine Wright, and her mam and dad, with Rover, their dog, in deckchairs sunbathing in the snow?
Unhappily, I woke at this stage and somehow managed to scribble some notes on the pad about this dream… while the intestine pains increased, and reality returned. Sadly!
The kip and wake continued, but I could not get back to the dream.
I gave up trying to sleep and gingerly rose out of the recliner.
22:20hrs: I stirred into imitation life instantly panicking! I was being bombarded with worries, concerns and fear all at the same time it seemed.
Mo’s funeral to attend, and I hope to enjoy saying my farewells to her, the biggest concern perhaps; for my travelling there in a taxi, means I cannot take the walker with me, and do not feel too confident in using the walking stick.
I’m also fearing the affected right leg having a Neuropathic Schuhplattler flailing-about dance.
The biggest worry is if I fall asleep at the Service! I have often so regularly nodded-off unintentionally: on buses, hospital and surgery waiting rooms, even stood up one time.
Then there’s the Bank Manager who needs to see me! How can I get to the branch as requested? Time is the killer. Tuesday I have the Medicine Team and blood nurse coming to see me.
I have no daily prescription medications left at all now. How can I get to the chemist to find out what’s going on?
Then there’s the bleeding between my legs. And a list as long as the Magna Carta I want to discuss with the Doctor…
I’m not in good shape mentally at all. I do want anything to disturb or bother my devotions and cheerios for Mo.
Eventually, giving up on finding out what I can do to ease the situation, and ended up deciding I need help. Huh! I’ve been through this before, there is none available. Perhaps the Samaritans can help? Humph!
I was so annoyed at myself for thinking like this. I tried to put things other than getting to Mo’s funeral, get that over and enjoyed, then try to get the other stuff sorted. I might try to ask my ILC Warden Deana if she can help by phoning the Bank, no, that will be too early – Crap! If she can call the chemist for me, and the doctors, I will try to get to see her this morning before the taxi arrives, but time will be tight… everything seems against me! I’m getting even more despondent than when I woke up!
I searched my muddled brain for a glimmer of hope somewhere and realised that if I can’t get the medications, then there’s no point in worrying about the bank. ‘Shudder, going bonkers here!’ HELP!
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, blessedly! I forced my way painfully out of the £300 second-hand recliner, Arthur Itis letting me know he was there, got on my feet, grabbed the stick and off to the wet room. Well, a surprisingly acceptable session. No bleeding from the rear end, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, and far less to be evacuated.
I got in the kitchen, but of course, there were no blisters of medications available for me to take. So I rooted through the medical drawer in search of any old tablets to take. I had plenty of Warfarin, some paracetamol and found some old Simvastin and Ramipril that I took, but they were both well out of date, but still, what choice did I have. I found two beta-blockers that were even more out of use-by-date and took one.
Not the best of situations. I’m worried about myself now, Hehehe! Is there any help to be had? HELP!
I took a photo from the kitchen window, almost mechanically. A view showing the lights going down Winchester Street.
I got updating yesterday’s blog. It took a while, cause bothe Saccades Sandra and the fingers and right-side neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain were playing up, and typing was an ever-correcting nightmare. But I got there in the end and posted off the diary.
After going on the WordPress Reader, putting some photos on Pinterest and going on the TFZer Facebook, I needed to return for the third visit to the Porcelain Throne! This time it was so different. A small deposit, much bleeding from Harold Haemorrhoid and Little Inchies Lesion. Not so good! Had a clean-up and medicalisationing session, and made another mug of tea.
Started this post going up to here. Then had to make some graphics up on CorelDraw for later use. I even got a template up ready for tomorrow.
I got the Bank, and Chemist number, just in case for Deana when I go down.
Then the stand-up ablutions tended to. Again there were a good few dropsies, cuts, bleeding and a couple of knocks when the peripheral neuralgia gave me an energetic involuntary performance of a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, flail-about dance! I’d say the Sock-Glide struggle was a draw. A couple of little nicks shaving. After the washing was all done, I set about applying Daktacort, Germoloid, Savlon, Corticosteroid, Varesil creams and Fenbid-Forte gel. Eye-wash, nasal-unblocker and Saccades Sandra spray. Good job I started the scrub-up earlier than usual!
I got the handwashing done and hung to dry. The new long-sleeved brown t-shit was washed for the first time – and it is now black! Still, it is thicker and warmer, although far shorter than the expensive one. Maybe if I’d ordered black shirts, they might have turned brown when I washed them? Hehehe! The delights of Amazon, eh!
I got the taxi monies in the pocket with my super G8 mobile. Treats put in the trolley and made my way down with the hopes of Deana being able to assist me with my problems of the bank, and the prescriptions. Or rather lack-of medications, by phone for me, so I do not mishear, anything said.
I took the black bags to the waste chute on the way down. In the lift, to the ground floor, thought the link passage swipe door and along to the end and the Independent Living Coordinators holding and interrogation office. Dropped off the box and knocked on the door, no answer. So, back up to get my coat on, but I forgot to put my hearing aids in. I decided to go back up again, to drop off the trolley and put in the aids, then. This I did, and down again.
There was no reply to my knocking, so I wandered around a bit in the foyer. Angela and Roy came along, and I nattered to them, and tried the door again, this time, it was answered. I told Pole-Dancer, Warden and ILC of my problems. She asked for more details and gave both the Bank and the Chemist a ring, but neither were answering, too early I suppose. With my going Mo’s funeral, ask if the chemist could leave any medications here in the office. That is if he came out while I was here. But no, the girls would be at other flats on stand-by duty to cover for holidays. Said she’d ring them later. So, I’m none the wiser if I will be getting the medications or I’ll just have to snuff-it, mainly due to having no Bisoprolol (Beta-blockers), Simvastatin or Codeine left. Is no one bothered? Silly question, of course, they aren’t! I’m such a fool!
I was on my way back upstairs, when Gaynor appeared, sorting out the taxi and passengers for the trip to Mo’s Do! She said there was no time to go back for the hearing aids as the mini-cab was due any minute. I must have misread the sign on the board, I thought it was for 09:25hrs. As I said, I’m such a fool! So I stayed down with the others.
We went outside to wait, but the taxi was late coming. We were all under the control of Gaynor ♥. He looked after us and got us safely to the parlour. I took a few pictures while we waited outside.
Coddled by Gaynor (I liked that!) we arrived at the funeral parlour and had timed it to perfection. Many other tenants were in attendance with Mo’s family members.
Once inside, the remembrance started. But I could not hear a single word, but this was good. For it let me cast my mind back to memories I was lucky enough to share with Mo at the flats, without hindrance. A personal thing. Her choice of music was perfect! ‘Elvis, The Wonder of You’. And Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Perfick!
As soon as the whole thing was over, it went so quickly, and I felt good. As we got in the taxi (I was nurtured and fitted in the seat belt by Gaynor), my mind started to fret over the medications again. The talk was light-hearted, with mentions of sadness for Mo’s departure, no not morbidly.
When we arrived back at Winwood Court, the two gals dropped me of (I was assisted out of the taxi by Gaynor!) and shot off to the Sherwood for the drinkies. I had to make my way to the ILCs office to try and find out what had taken place concerning the pharmacist. But no one was in, they had probably gone to the ST Anns block already. My stomach churned a bit with frustration and not knowing if the prescriptions will be coming today or not! Off course, Deana may have tried to ring me, but we all turned off our mobiles for Mo’s service of course. Then again, she (Deana) is a busy gal.
So, I walked back again to the Woodthorpe Court and up into the flat. No messages or notes in the door about anything. My heart sank a little. The inconscient fretting grew stronger, as less and less time would be available for any corrective attempts if the stuff isn’t going to arrive! More natural to just pass-away, in my sleep, I hope!
I got the mobile on charging-up. Then I could not find the longer one of the two wooden walking sticks? I recall using it when I took the first load of black bags to the chute. But surely I would not have walked back without it, I couldn’t have? Could I?
With me having adopted a Panic-Mood-Mode, even then, I have the two other sticks, no need to have fretted. But I found myself worrying, and got the other wooden stick and went to look in the rubbish-chute room, in case I had left it in there, which I knew I wouldn’t have, but still hobbled to check it out! Sanity Alert! (Klaxon sounding in my head)
I could not believe how calm and accepting I felt while I was out, and now I’ve turned back into a pessimist, misanthrope and depressed-worryguts again! I hate myself when this Quick-Change for the worse happens! Have to put up with though, until I hopefully hear something positive from the chemist and or Bank. If I don’t, well, it doesn’t stand thinking about. HELP!
I started up update this blog. The goodbye to Mo and kind help from Gaynor was a pleasure to recall and write about, but when I got back to the anxieties of the unknown factors from the chemist stuff, it was hard, frustrating, error-ridden and depressing.
I put the kettle on to make a brew. And split some hot water over me pouring out the tea. A sort of acceptance of failure, combined with guilt, meant I didn’t even swear or jump really. I may have said to myself; ‘What d’you expect, good luck, help? Idiot!’
I slowly, calmly got the Savlon cream from the wet-room and cold-watered the hand before applying the cream. Then, Shaking Shaun arrived, (As if to teach me a lesson), and I dropped the bloody tube, straight down the toilet, Splosh! It never touched the sides on its way down! I hope this querulous-neurosis, mental or psychological agitation, derangement or whatever, is only temporary! Humph!
I took three pictures of the brew while making the second cuppa, I’ve called the three of them, Nottinghamian’s Close-knit Community.
I called at Josie’s flat to give her the Limoncello I forgot to provide her with Sunday’s meal. But there was no answer, so I returned it to the fridge. Then made a brew again and got on with this post once more.
I’ll nip down to see if Deana is available again, and has any news from the chemists for me. Hello, it’s gone awfully dark outside suddenly. Ah, the rain is drizzling.
Ah-well, off I go. Deana not there. Not answering her mobile. I’ve no chance of getting anything sorted now. Grumble-Sodit-Blast! – Crabs and Grobblecraps!!!
Got the nosh ready. I should have enjoyed it, but with the worry over the medications, I didn’t. Rating 5/0.
Put thing to soak in the bowl. Moved the handwashing, the new ‘was-brown-now-black long-sleeved t-shirt was still wet. Put in on the airer.
I did my best to stay awake, watched telly, any programme that had subtitles, cause I didn’t want to miss hearing the intercom or door in case the medications arrived late. Huh, they didn’t come!
I even got up and had another search around in case I did have another blister-pack week that had fallen behind the stack of drawers. But there was none there. Eventually, I fell asleep, the worries of the day had gone for a while anyway.
A few hours later, the door chimes woke me from my half-sleep, I struggled to my feet and wobbled to answer it. Thinking at last! The tablets had arrived… but no! It was Josie returning her plate tray etc. to me from her Sunday meal. I’d asked her not to in case of waking me, but obviously, the gal had forgotten about this. I’m not sure what we said, being half-awake, but feel we chattered.
Tray and things taken to the kitchen, and I returned to the recliner, I wanted, now I had been woken, to stay awake longer, just in case the medications did arrive. But couldn’t.
23:00hrs: I woke, with a frustrationalisticness, due to my not being able to recall the dream I’d been having, but had the idea that I wanted to, so I could mention it on this blog. Ah, well, no idea what it was about!
I lay for a short while, considering my few remaining options in life. My bucket list, and needs, hopes and inspirations. Plans for the future. Desires and needs! This took me about two minutes!
I began to reluctantly wrench out my dilapidated, somewhat flabby-bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner. Arthur Itis immediately complained in his usual fashion and stung me with some pain-giving twinges. I got up into a semi-perpendicular stance, grabbed the stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
As soon as I pressed the power button, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, urgently! Again, it was a close call getting there in time, and what a session this was! Bloody, messy and most uncomfortable.For a description of the evacuated dollop, think a torpedo-shaped long bale of hay! Cricky, I’m glad now that I didn’t eat much of last night’s meal! I might still be sat on the Throne now if I had! Certain areas needed sanitising and medicating, with TLC! Had a wash and back to make the brew.
With the struggle in passing, I mixed a sachet of the Macrogol first.
Then made the brew and took the medications.
To the computer, and started things off with the updating of Saturday post.
As I began typing, a few things became apparent to me. Saccades Sandra was going to give me some hassle. Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me. And I had some new growths to join the old one, on the right hand! They came out almost orange in the photograph? Not a lot surprised me nowadays with the ever-changing ailments. But this did.
The updating took less time than usual, as I had condensed things, in an effort to spend less time on the computer, and get some cleaning up done and much needed rest. I got it finished and posted off. Then went to make another mug of tea. As well as the photo above, I took a couple of pictures of the view from the unwanted, light & view-blocking new windows.
The first one through the opened window, the second from inside. As the rain was soaking me through with the window open.
Back to the computer and…
Then…
The wee-wees had been persistent all morning, so I went for yet another. Most of them were in the LBRWS (Long-But-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) mode.
While waiting for Liberty-Global Virgin Media to return on-line, I went to tidy up the kitchen (Gawd, it needed it!) and make yet another drink.
I went to get out next weeks medicine tray and realised that there wasn’t one, I’d just used up my entire supply? I rather hope the new ones will be delivered today!
Life is something that tests one’s patience, especially people like medical patients! Haha!
Back to the computer, and Liberty-Global internet was back on, but fluctuating between slow and dead-slow, now!
I went on the WordPress Reader. Then posted some Pinterest photographs. And yet another urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived. This time it was an even-closer shave to making it to the seat in time! I took a very poor, although I didn’t realise it at the time, snap of the knees. With Arthur Itis giving me such bother, I expected they would be all bloated and warped, but no, they seemed okay to me? Hey-ho!
I made a start on this blog for a while (with many wee-wee and Saccades Sandra delays). Then decided to try to write an ode I’d been thinking of while doing this blog, but had forgotten what it was about! Humph!
I was suddenly hungering and hankering for something to eat for brekkers. I made a mug of Thompsons best tea and had a packet of salt & vinegar Chipsticks, the last jam tart and a bar of orange club biscuit! Followed with a few cashew nuts. But not a lot!
Then decided to get the ablutions done, as it was gone the witching-hour of 08:00hrs. I had a change of plans (I’m well-known for this, you know, Hehe!) and decided to take the black bags to the chute. Then down with the recyclable carrier and carrier of glass for the small bin. I chanced to take them down, using just the walking stick.
And I was doing well until I got into the three flats hallway and a visit from Dizzy Dennis was suffered. I didn’t go down or anything dangerous, but I did drop the bag of empty glass jars and bottles! None broke either, but the noise they made, has most likely made me as popular with the other tenants, as Nigel Farage would be at the Liberal Party Conference! Humph!
I pointlessly whispered an “I’m sorry!” And carried on into the lift and down and outside with the bags. It dawned on me; I had not taken the two black bags to the chute! It was raining and windy out there, so I got the job done as quickly as I could to avoid getting soaked and returned to Woodthorpe Court with the rubbish-bags. Remembering this time, to deposit the black bags in the waste chute, and avoid clouting my head on the lid this time. Which I did! Smug-Mode Adopted!
– Back to the flat, and tackled the ablutionalisational duties. A few dropsies and it went pretty well for me until it came to the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle. Two trapped fingers, on for each sock, both forced me into a quietly uttered few words of an intemperate nature. I also noted while in the shower, (apart from not, I say Not, dropping the soap or showerhead), that the tiles on the wall were getting a tad grimy looking.
The pins had changed a little. The ankle swelling had gone down a lot.
Signs of Venous Insufficiency, and spider, femoral veins were slowly coming back a little more prominently.
Thankfully, Arthur Itis was seemingly easing off somewhat too.
So I got out the Mildew and Mould sprays and created a cunning plan! Oh, yes! I would sit on the shower stool and reach down to the lower tiles, and stand on it, to reach the higher ones. Good eh? The very moment I hit the floor after falling out of the chair, I knew this was not going to work after all! I struggled back on my feet and applied some Phorpain Gel on the elbow and shin. Buenos Dias! Int’ life a gas? Hehehe! I withdrew from the Mildew-removal activities area, and guess what?
Porcelain Throne duties No.3 were needed! A good job I was so close to the WC bowl, as things moved along fast and almost caught me out again, a sort of self-starting and finish when the innards felt they were ready to, session! However, a third-variety of evacuation followed. No bleeding from anywhere, very little pain, the enormity of the released product seemed less this time. It’s a busy day for a Sunday!
The rain seemed to have stopped, but the sun was in and out a bit regular, so I left the lights on. I nipped out quickly (quickly, hahaha!), to go on the rooftop of Winwood Court, to try and catch some photographs while the sun was shining.
Huh! another change of plans. I just remembered that I have no tablets left! So I rang the Pharmacy, without realising it was ‘Sunday’, what an idiot! I’ve got enough Warfarin and Simvastatin for today, but desperately short of Codeine. So, somehow tomorrow, I’ve got to call the chemist and find out what’s happening, and also see the Bank Manager. Hang on, there’s Mo’s funeral to go to on Monday! I’m getting all confused, sad, and going on a downer now!
Still, Josie’s nosh to be prepared yet. How can one go from so high to so low in an instant? I’d better make a start. I noticed while getting Josie’s nosh prepared, that the odd orangey-red marks on the right hand had disappeared or dissipated altogether? But the two older scars were still there? I baked on smoked haddock-cheese and potato rissole a little longer today. Put some of the Tuna with mayonnaise and sweetcorn on for another trial for her. Sliced tomato, mushrooms and garden peas. A can of Gin & Tonic, and a limoncello dessert top round it off. Makes it a bit of a change for her to try. I hope she likes the new stuff. I delivered it spot on the usual time, as anyone who is a personal chef should do. Hehe!
I got back inside, and Shaking Shaun had a go at me. Left me in a bit of a dodgy condition as I plated my own nosh, Dizzy Dennis joined in the ‘Let’s-get-at-Inchcock’ session.
To be frank, memories after this part of the day, do not exist. But I woke later in the evening, panicking.
22:30hrs: I woke up, already concentrating on what will most likely, be my longest-ever updating session. Yesterday’s events will take a lot of sorting out. I took a few photographs and xyrophobia-suffering, flat-burglar, brother-in-Law Pete, with his Galaxy S10+Fold, which increases the storage to 1TB. That operates as a normal smartphone until you open it, at which point it becomes a small tablet. A snip at £1514.4921, took the other photo’s at his mansion and sent them to me via email, to use.
With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph!
I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications.
I took a very shaky photo through the kitchen door facing the unwanted, new, light and view-blocking window cannot get to clean, windows. The shakes and twitching nerve transmissions are now really getting to me, as they have made my holding the camera steady enough to t a take any worthy, semi-clear shots are so annoying.
In between having many mugs of tea, consultations with the notes I made, and Dizzy Dennis visits, it took me until gone 09:00hrs to get the post finished and posted off! Yes, a total of over ten hours! Such is my ridiculous circumspection and lack of control of mind and body! I fear I might have to finish doing the Inchcock Today’s, and I love doing them to try and cheer folks up.
I am in a right pickle now. Drained and shaky. But something has to be done, or help found. I might just do the odd ode now and then, instead. Saccades Sandra didn’t help things today, she had me with double-vision. Causing me to do more correctionalisationing that typing! I am sad, undecided person. Unwashed and feeling despondent and so tired-out. Depressed beyond my own belief!
Gawd, reading this makes me feel a right sad moaning Git! However, I tried to pull around and pressed on sending some pictures to Pinterest. Went on the WordPress Reader. Then spent far too long on my beloved TFZer Facebooking. Topped up some photo albums. My typing got even worse now!
I got some mushrooms and peas ready to warm up. I put the oven heating up too.
As I did so, the door-chimes rang out. It was the second long-sleeved brown t-shirt delivery. That the Tracker said would arrive between the 11th and 14th of the month. Somehow, I’m not surprised.
A good job I hadn’t what I had initially planned to, and gone to see the Bank Manager today. Not that I would have had the time.
Around 1400hrs, I gave up altogether, and closed it all down, and went to get something to eat, before I fell asleep. Saccades, getting worse.
Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph!
Got down and ate the meal.. rating 7/10.
Washed the pots and did the handwashing.
Settled in the recliner and had a mind stew. I have to stop doing these dairy type things, they are just too much for me in my state.
Feeling low, unwell, undecided and decidedly down in the dumps.
23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…
23:57hrs: I woke up for real, and realised I’d been dreaming. I think I was enjoying having a fit body again, drinking the Guinness in the none-existent bath… but reality had to be faced. And oddly enough, the first thing I did, was to pass-wind, but only a sort ‘Phutt-Phutt’ job. Which did bring on the demand for the Porcelain Throne for real!
I had to cajole Arthur Itis into letting me get my legs off of the chair, he’s been so kind to me yesterday over the tumble. So he was due a little fun with me. Having achieved the first proper challenge, I faced the standing up and catching my balance routine. Not too bad, a bit of a wobble, but I got up, and then had to rush a bit, to get to the outbound salvation room in time. The evacuation went well, minimal bleeding. Arthur Itis was not willing to get up again off of the throne. I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. I olive-oiled the ear-holes, washed and off to the kitchen, with Arthur twinging away at me.
Made a brew and did the washing up from last night. And got the computer going. But…
I made a start by creating this post from scratch, I must get some more graphics done, today! After an hour or so, the craving for another mug of tea arrived. At the same time, as the flood of wee-wees began. Far too many to keep mentioning, most of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) variety. As I was bringing the tea to the computer, the stomach started gurgling, aching and hurting. I naturally assumed that Throne Session number two was required, but no, nothing but wind and a particularly foul odour escaped.
Back to the computer and then started updating the Tuesday blog. Due to the overpaid and rated Mr Fries inabilities and uncaring attitude towards his ever-paying-more, customers, this took me a long time to get done! Many wee-wees activated as I worked away.
I went to make another brew, this time Glenghettie Gold. Took the medications.
And tried my bestest to get a decent photographicalisation of the high in the sky moon. I was not over-successful as it happened. The reasons for this failure being, I think; 1) The moving clouds. 2) The neurotransmitter sensory nerves failing, causing trembling and shaking of the right hand and arm. 3) My not knowing what the heck I was doing. Haha! The first two were taken on Auto-Mode. The others in Nightime Panorama, no, Landscape!
I read and replied to some WordPress comment, and then post pictures to Pinterest. Then went on the WordPress Reader section, but before I could start, Porcelain Throne Session numb er Two arrived, so, off to the wet room.
This Throne session was not so good. Messy, slow, hard work, bleeding and exhausting! But, I recovered alright. After a clean-up and some more medicationalisationing, I returned to the WP Reader perusing.
Well, I have to go on CorelDraw for a mammoth graphic-creating session for the upcoming blogs. I’ll make another brew first.
Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.
I got the nosh on. I ended up going for the luxury (Expensive) can of roast gammon, to go in the stew I was making, well, a type of stew. Onions, peas, tomatoes, and potatoes were broiled together and nearly ready, so I put in the can of ham, and got it stirred in well. As I was doing this, Shaking Shaun came all over me, with what I was sure was a neuropathic drop-something and flail-about dance coming on the right leg! When, the door-bell chimed, Huh! Not the best of timing, I thought, with me still in my jammies, unshaven, and shaking-all-over so’s to put it.
I made sure the thin dressing gown was not revealing anything for someone to laugh at en route to the door, and everything changed the instant I saw my old mate Michael stood there, looking tired, but happy! (I was probably more delighted at seeing Mike)
I welcomed him, and the nattering started, which didn’t stop for over an hour he was here. I felt years younger. As the whole kit and caboodle of worries, concerns and fears dissipated into the ether.
I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.
Mick went in the front room, while I checked the food was alright, I didn’t want it burning or bubbling, it was all in the saucepan now, on low heat. With the big pile of washing up in the sink. Hehe!
Poor Micheal, told me of his ups and downs since seeing me last. He had his campervan holiday, which he enjoyed. When he got back, a week or so later, he collapsed, and his sister found him in his flat on the floor. Called for an ambulance, and was told it would be two hours before anyone could attend, there had been an accident on the motorway! Other friends arrived, and out of concern for Michael, rang again, and then they were told it would now be three hours before an ambulance would arrive! His family sorted out transport, and they took him to the hospital themselves. I shan’t go into detail of the terrible treatment he received there, it was convoluted and depressing. Just that he was told… no, I’d better not.
But being Mike, he still brought a smile to my face and soul with his zest for life and witticisms and stories of woe.
By the way, Michael, when you call again mate, remind me of the treats I forgot about in the junk room, please.
By his leaving, it was like a light going out, a power-cut. And I returned to cooking in a lower spirit.
I was stirring the mishmash in the saucepan and decided to put some chips in the oven. I had totally forgotten about the potatoes in the stew! I tried to have a read of the cooking instructions on the can of ham. Even with the magnifier glass, it was impossible to see the writing. So, I got the camera, in hopes that they might come out more legible in a picture. Which they did.
Oh, heck! It should have been done it in a microwave oven, and finished off under the grill! I do not have either available (No microwave oven, and the rack doesn’t work!) Humph! I was uncertain if I should eat it or not. But it had been in the saucepan for over an hour with the other stuff? I thought, blow it, if it tastes wrong I can always just throw it away.
Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.
The things that Michael had gone through kept coming into my muddled, mind as I dined. (Poetry slipped in there!) Then, while stuffing my face, I pondered over my visiting Sister Jane in the morning. Ideally, I should take a stick with me but cannot carry it with all the treats I’m taking… can’t cope with it either with the trolley-walker, oh, dearie me. I can catch the 07:25hr L9, and this should give me plenty of time to Tesco to get some nibbles and treats, that I already have for HRH Jane and Prince Pete, but cannot carry.
Suddenly (well it seemed quick to me), I’d finished eating nearly all of the fodder on offer (I’d left some fries). The gammon was fatty and not very tasty, though. Everything else was fine apart from the fries, which were also bland tasting. Flavour Rating: 5/10.
The cooking of the gammon wrongly seems to have caused me no bother, yet, anyway.
I felt extraordinarily tired-out and got the washing-up done, then settled down into the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, the one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, as he was flat sitting while I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The CCTV camera he can now monitor, to ensure the most destructive, annoying and grief-giving time in which to phone me up. Which are always either; As I get down to eat a meal, get seated on the Throne, I’m in the middle of cooking or just leaving the flat. Hehehe
At first, the mind was musing about Micheals problems, how cleverly the Government had cunningly forgotten all about Brexit, and how the hell am I going to get to HRH Sister Janes house in safety in the morning? But the mind eventually gave me a rest, cleared, and sleep came… Lovely!
