03:30hrs: I bestirred, in need of a wee-wee. Detached my lumberous body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and woggled over to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). Having a WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode wee-wee. Then I stumbled my way to the kitchen.
But returned to the front room, to put some pain-gel on the toes, avoiding yesterday’s toe-stubbing blister. I took these poor quality pictures after the treatment.
Back into the kitchen. The light showery rain was falling, although it doesn#t show in this picture, it was coming from behind the building. I got the kettle on the boil and dug out the medicines and Health-Test Kit.
The medication pods The BP readings were little different from yesterdays. Sys was up, Dia and the pulse about the same as yesterday. The temperature showed up just ‘Low’.
I nearly made a silly blunder, and almost gave myself an Enoxaparin injection, that is not due until tomorrow. It was a close thing. Phew! I felt almost proud of myself for remembering in time. A smug-mode was engaged!
Moments later, when I took the medications out of the pod-pack, the static on the plastic cover, brought all the tablets out stuck against it, and they fell to the floor. Spreading the eight tablets to all four corners of the flipping kitchen! Grumph and Grobbleknangles! The recently acquired Smug-Mode, dissipated!
By the time I’d gathered up the offending tablets and capsules, with all the bending down, the uncut toenails were stinging, and Back-Pain-Brenda had made herself known to me. Silver-Lining Search Result: At least I found them all! I gave them a dusting and took them.
As I poured the tea, I recognised that Arthur Itis’s knees were in the same state as they were yesterday, just stiff, but not overly painful at all. The showers overnight, and drizzle this morning, along with a delightful smell of petrichor is a sign of a storm brewing; or at least heavy rain is on the way. I know, I said the same yesterday, but I’ve got to get it right eventually. Hahaha!
I went to the wet room for another wee-wee. At least it was of a different type. An SSPG (Short-Sharp-Painful-Grey) variety. Not many folks have wee-wees that morph into a different colour and power each time. Humph! Washed and wiped the contact points, then off to the computer.
The concentration was difficult despite my being in a willing mood. No particular reason as far as I could tell, but it took me yonks get aa template for today done, then the updating of Thursday’s post. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kept having a go at me, but at least Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure was rare for once.
It was the concentrating, articulating, emphasising and funnelling, optimising actions as needed that I found so hard. Also, I kept changing tasks and got lost as to what I was doing before. However, I finally got both jobs finished. I felt a little wishy-washy in the head then. Why? Gawd knows!
I went on Facebooking but gave up when I realised how the time had flashed by.
Off to get the ablutions tended to, back in a while. I hope.
Oh, dearie me! Not one of my easiest of ablutionalisationing sessions! The legs looked like they were about to transmogrify again. Arthur Itis’s knees were a bit bloated, but as I said earlier, not bothersome really?
The teggies were painful to clean, with Toothache Terence making his presence know.
The shaving went much better today. A couple of razor dropsies, one dropped the shaving foam once. Only one lone little cut.
Now, the showering… Gragglespitgurgle& Tsk! A few of the ailments had a frenzied festival of fun with me!
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went. Hitting the shower chair, but avoiding going all the way to the floor. I got my lower right arm entangled with the metal Sock-Glide frame, as I reached out to prevent a full self-body slam. Arglebonkangony! The bruises came up quick.
This slowed me down a bit, I took extra-care after, in case another ‘one-legged Jive’ came on again. They don’t usually come on close to each other, but this one made me bit nervous. Still, apart from the pain, by the time I got around to finishing showering and onto the towelling, I was feeling much easier and more confident. Then…
As I was getting the creams for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur’s knees cream, Earhole Eric’s Olive Oil and Little Inchies fungal lesion cream; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had a go at me. I dropped the Olive oil, and Phorpain Gel. I calmy and unexcitedly, got the picker-upperer, turned back, and trod on the Olive Oil pot! Thus, it burst open, giving the poorly stubbed toe some gip, and spreading over the WC mat. Which now needs cleaning! Cribblebogsanagonies!
Crying was on option, but I resisted it!
Then went on the WordPress Reader.
I got the walker-guide trolley and popped down to the caretaker’s domain, with some bags of recyclables and waste. Took the two snaps below while I was down there. The first one of the dead-end of Chestnut Walk, the none in the opposite direction towards Winchester Street.
Back to the apartment, and I made a restart on this post.
Just before midday, I made my way down again, to visit the Mobile Shop. Apple pies, tomatoes and a loaf of bread were purchased.
I came back inside and up again to the apartment. Well, alright then, the flat. Hahaha!
Got the nosh prepared. Easy-peasy meal. A tin of chopped tomatoes, pork frankfurters, mushrooms and bread from the mobile shop. To follow, a lemon mousse (thanks Jenny), an apple and an apple pie!
I recall washing up and settling down to watch a replay football match.
That’s it. When I nodded off, I’ve no idea, so I don’t know what sleep I got in.
But in the morning, I noticed I’d miss the evening medications.
04:00hrs: I lay there on the c1968, rickety recliner for a good while, assessing my situation mentally and physically.
After a mild form of organisation was gathered in the grey-cells, the first thing was to check the time on my Charity shop-bought £2 wristwatch. It was not on my wrist.
Well, fancy that! This not only confused me but annoyed me. All my energy and concentration went on a search for the timepiece.
It was paramount to me that it had to found! But it wasn’t! Despite heaving and hauling my colossal-bellied body from the none-working chair, and ferreting about looking for the watch. I got the torch and picker-upperer and looked underneath the furniture.
Getting back up on my feet was a bit painful, particularly the back and Howard Hughes-like toenails!
Where signs of nocturnal-meandering activity were diagnosed. Down there, was the TV and DVD remote, and a pen? But no, wristwatch!
I looked in the kitchen, then the wet room, and rechecked them both! Back to the recliner room. I had to force myself to stop the search and seek mission. I was getting so uptight and self-critical over the loss. I told myself that it was a temporary irremediable situation. I didn’t like or believe it, but something had to be done to stop my going addictively bonkers.
It didn’t really work though, as I went for a wee-wee, I kept looking in the silliest places for the watch. The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time. Which was one of the easiest evacuations for a long time? A smidge of bleeding, but not messy. It was over swiftly, and little odoriferousness either. This should have had me moving into a Smug-Mode, but the worrying over the lost-timepiece was ever-present.
For the first time ever, the wee-wee followed after the big evacuation? A new style as well. I Christened it as an SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wee.
Limped off to the kitchen. The morning view, albeit a later one this Tuesday, was a little misty. But when I opened the window, it was incredibly mild, I thought. Ah, one there for Bill, a red car! Hehe!
I had a rummage around and searched in the daftest of places in search of the watch. With no luck!
BP sphygmomanometer readings were pleasing and should have cheered me up a tad. All were looking better. The thermometer just showed as ‘Low’, but this missing timepiece was still wrangling at me!
I took the medications, then made a brew. A thought suddenly came to me (they occasionally do), had I dropped my beloved timepiece in a waste bin? After searching through all four of them, I found out I hadn’t. Grumblegrobbledamn!
I started updating yesterday’s post. Diligently making many miss-typing and spelling errors! Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had started off again, Tsk! After a couple of hours, I went off limpingly to make another brew and needed two, I say, two, SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wees! (I’m not sure how much longer the carpet from the kitchen to the wet room is going to last, Haha!)
It seemed the mist was getting a little thicker as the morning went on? This time when I opened the window to take this photograph, it seemed a lot colder out here than it did earlier on? Brrr!
Another forage around in cupboards, drawers, etc. failed to find the £2 watch! Sob! Yet another wee-wee! Washed hands and contact points, and back on the well-trodden carpet in the hall, to Computer Cameron, and got the Tuesday blog finished at last. Despite Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and Back-Pain-Brenda’s attentions!
I then got a message on the mobile. I had a look, and it was from Iceland. Telling me to check emails for details of changes to my order. What order, I thought? Then I investigated. Finding I had an order in for today, twixt 15:00 > 17:00hrs. Pathetic, I know, but I could not remember making an order for today? After examining the goods on the list, there was no doubt about it, the items were all things I might have ordered. A vague recollection of my looking at the ham misshapes?
Then, I noticed an Amazon email arrived. I used the tracker and got the map up, which means the delivery is close.
Ah, this could be dodgy time-wise, so I stopped and to get the ablutions done.
Not such a good session this time. I reckon this was because I was trying to rush it, in case the Amazon delivery arrived with the reusable facemasks. The teggies were done without any Whoopsies. The shaving, well, there was a few.
The hairs were growing around the ear-holes, and I decided to use the razor to cut them. This did not work, so I got the scissors… I shouldn’t have done that! I should have known better, with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley being on form! Hehe!
The legs looked a lot betterer this morning, though. The toenails were hurting every time I touched or moved on the mat. No shower, trying to save time.
As I was drying off, I caught sight of something I’d not noticed before. Brief History: Many years ago, when I had Duodenal Donald surgery, the hairs shaved off, on my chest and stomach, did not all return. Then, when I had the Aorta Valve replacement, there were very few that grew again. Then, after the stroke, what an oddity, they all fell out?
Now, I spotted two hairs on my chest, in the middle of the lower op scars, nearer the stomach, I think. One must have been about seven inches long? I wonder if they can do a transplant to my head? Hahaha!
Got redressed, and on the Amazon site, to check the tracker.
The delivery vehicle must be getting very close now.
I went to the kitchen window to see if I could spot a delivery van or lorry out there.
A van was parked in the Emergency Only bay (As do all vehicles). But it was not an Amazon vehicle.
Then, a grey car came up and turned at the dead end, and parked in the Emergency Vehicles Only parking bay. As I peered down at it, it was apparent that it was a Taxi or someone getting a lift with his shopping. It was my neighbour, Malcolm.
I took what I thought was three snaps. Below is what I found on the SD card when I came to download them. How did I do this? I was using the Canon SX 740 SH camera. I’m confused as to what I did wrong?
I’d spent a while taking these pictures, and panicked a bit when I realised. Had I missed a call on the Intercom? Then I realised that if anyone had arrived, I would have seen them. I’m losing it again!
I loitered around the flat hallway, so I could not miss it when someone rang the intercom. Ten minutes later, the box chimed out, and I pressed the listen button, but the machine went to a blue screen with the message ‘Hi’ on it? I pressed the admit button, but unsure if it had worked or not? I thought of going down, but what if I pass the chap on the way and end up missing him?
This was turning into another farcical day for me! I held my ground, and a chap arrived with the masks. Thanked him, and of off he shot. Leaving the covers near the door for me.Thank you!
I got the masks out to take a look—three in total, washable and reusable. I put them on the shelving for future use. When I am to be allowed out, is unknown, but at least when the time arrives, something like the Opticians, Pediatric Clinic, Dentist or Audio Clinic opens again, I’ll be alright for using the bus, at least. Of course, that is if I can live through and survive this isolationing. And put up with the agony from the uncut toenails, toothache, and mental anguish. Hahaha!
I made a brew and went to take a photograph of Marie’s, Koala Katie, and Pattie’s Scruffy, donated pets for me ♥, who I talk to each day, as they rest on top of the DVD shelves. But the Canon camera came up with this message as I returned the SD card. ‘Card cannot be accessed. Reinsert/change the card. Or format with this camera. Oh dearie me, what next is going to go wrong!
I took out the card and checked it was on the ‘Read’ position, which it was. I returned it to the camera, and still got the message.
I tried doing the same again. Same message!
I tried the other card in it, and that was alright.
Rechecked the Canon-card. Swapped it between open and closed, and put it back in. Same Message!
Removed it again, and was now out of ideas… It worked!
A sigh of relief was proffered forth.
Then I took a picture of my beloved pets and had a little chinwag with them.
Then I remembered the disappearing wristwatch. Surely it must be around the chair, I had it on last night, I think.
A long time ago, I wrote this view of the mysteriousness of the flat. Tim Price helped me. It’s grown over the months and is a little too long now, but I like it for a bit of fun and have used it a few times on the blog:
“Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, and kehuas. Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?” Well, now it’s getting more like a fact now, than fun! Hehehe!
Anyway, I had no luck with searching for the wet room and kitchen again for the watch.
My phagomaniac tendencies came into mind. And I returned to the food cupboards and fridge to ponder over what I fancied for my nosh.
Then I remembered the forgotten about Iceland order arriving twixt 15:00 to 17:00hrs. I decided to leave the meal until after the food arrived and I would make up my mind then. I’ll have a pot noodle, I can have if I get peckish… no, not a good idea! It will ruin anything I have later… Hello, I’m hesitating, equivocating, indecisive, vacillating, well, getting all muddled again! Decision-making and I were not meant to be a team after the Stroke.
I went on Facebooking then. I moved on to making-up a template for tomorrow. Got them all done, and…
Gluglegnatsworth! I got out of the swivel chair to go and make another brew, lost my balance, and toppled forward, dropped the China mug putting my hand out to break the fall, landed on the recliner. As I came to rest, I found the missing wristwatch on the tray on the Ottoman as I dispersed the contents!
Unbelievable! This was the first place I looked for the timepiece as well, and did so again at least two more times during the day!
The painful fall, and even more hurtful getting back up my bulky, but flobby-body back on my feet, was somehow not as bad as it should have been! The delight in finding it was tempered by my confusion as to how I failed to see it in my earlier searches. Confusion Conrad was rampant and befuddling! And my confidence was at a low ebb!
I took some waste bags to the chute. Then a couple of recycling bags down to the caretaker’s room.
Doing the blog back up again, forgetting all about the tea I was going to make, I got on with updating this blog again. Warden and desk-top-dancer, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress, Deana called, to check on things. I explained about my having to remain in isolation until the Doctor phones to let me know when I can be freed. Haha! Everything was fine, though. Little things like this, are appreciated, and supportive of my retaining my mental health. (Well?)
Back to the blogging and a message came in from Iceland. They are ahead of schedule and should arrive between 15:00hrs and 16:15 hours.
Life in one’s dotage, I always thought, would be slower, and much more hassle-free. Humph!
Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun all came on at the same time, and this was worrying. Yet, within around five minutes, they’d all left, leaving me with a cracking headache!
Iceland’s delivery man arrived. Thanked him and slipped him a G & T to him in thanks, and got the bags from the doorway into the kitchen.
Still a bit of a mystery as to how, when or why I made this order? But it had all the usual sort of stuff I have in it. I hope I hadn’t had a ‘Blank Moment’. Nott that I can say anything specific about these lapses, but, usually, I find out what I’d done, but no iota of any knowledge of this one, if it was one… I’ll stop mentioning it here, I’m confusing myself more than ever.
I got the goods stored away. There was a tray of frozen Chinese belly pork, the only thing different to usual. So I had that for the evening nosh. I’m worried that the cupboards may fall off of the walls! Haha!
The nosh was prepared and served up. A bit of a palatable feast as it turned out.
The Chinese belly pork, I cooked adding some Hickory. The last of the sourdough muffins, buttered and filled with off-cuts of smoked ham. A Marmite cheese disc, onions, beetroot, gherkins, and tomatoes. A lemon yoghourt, and a lovely crispy, South African apple to follow. My sitomania was well satiated this time. Gave this meal a Flavour-Rating of 7.8/10.
Incidentally, I found myself forever looking at my charity shop-bought, £2 wristwatch throughout the meal. I slept with it on tonight, fearing it may hide away from me overnight, again. Hehehe!
Oddly, Sweet Morpheus was not interested. I put the TV on, it was a load of hogwash showing, yet still, I didn’t nod off?
When it did arrive, it was filled with pestering dreams. Colin Cramps was waking me up, and I think that each time I nodded off again, I rejoined the same, or similar dream?
04:25hrs: Lethargically, I came back to life, unsure of if I had actually woken, or was still in the middle of the dreams I’d been blessed with overnight! A medley of ever-changing subjects, from the embarrassing, fearful, and belligerent, to plain confusing, but longed for, impossible, (nectareous!) romantic happenstances. I’ll not go into details, cause I’m short of tablets, and don’t want to get myself all excited) Hehehe!
I’m putting the changes in the view photograhicalisations, that I took over four hours, on the right-hand side here.
To show the amazing difference in colouring, light, etcetera, that took place.
There was a light mist with the morning views that turned into a fog, but only for an hour or so, then it reverted to just being a little misty.
Then the fog started coming back! All very interesting. (Or not?)
The last one was taken through the balcony window, as the fog paled back into a slight mist. Sorry about the diversion.
Now, back to the tale of the short, plump, wobbly-bellied, bald, deaf, Saccades Sandra affected, 5′ 2″, well-overweight, hobbling, Nottinghamian pensioner’s rising from his recliner. His £300, c1968, second-hand, obnoxiously-beige-coloured, none-working (my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propre Brother-in-law Pete, when he was searching the flat while I was in the hospital after the Stroke, and taking my valuables, and he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electrics and mechanics of the chair and fiddled with them. Now the machine no longer works!), ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, none-working recliner.
When I had manoeuvered my ever-changing legs to the ground, the thin night-quilt went with the tootsies to the carpet – entwined painfully in the overgrown toenails! Getting the toes freed was also a most uncomfortable experience! Cragknackling & Teeth-grinding!
As I was getting up and grabbing the stick to catch my balance, it became evident that Toothache Thomas was going to give me bother. I decided to risk taking an extra painkiller with the morning brew, for the pain seemed to be getting worse as time passed. Arglebonkangony!
I took the first of the photos at the top right, got the kettle on the boil, and did the sphygmomanometerisationing. Made the tea, and took the second picture. The SYS reading had come down, but it was still a tad high, methinks. The pulse at 76 should be okay, The thermometer gave a numbered readout for a change, 86°. Fahrenheit, I hope. Out of interest, I looked at the temperatures on Google. I got this explanation to my question.
By the time it had sunk in, I’d forgotten what I’d read! Hahaha! Looks good to me.
Off to the wet room, to satiate the demands for the Porcelain Throne. It was all over within a minute or so! No pushing from me at all. Things moved under the control of the innards, and the evacuated product was massive, but not messy. The rear end bled a lot afterwards. I’m not sure if this was due to Harold’s Haemorrhoids or something else. The piles, I hope! Cleaned and medicated. I’m so glad, almost thrilled, to tell you that Little Inchies fungal lesion, had not, and wasn’t bleeding at all. So no hurtful medicating needed here, Yippie!
As I left the wet room, the flat seemed so cold suddenly? I adorned the thick dressing gown. Brr!
The Assam mug of tea had gone cold, so I invested in a brew of Glengettie Gold. Off to the computer, and made a start on graphicalising input. Added to the scribble on the notepad to remind me later of things, and eventually made a start on the updating of the Thursday blog.
Many hours later, I’d got it done and sent off. Pinterested a few shots. Then I went on the WordPress Reader. Onward, to Facebooking, TFZer then to Winwood Heights.
I made a start on with this post, then went on CorelDraw to make up some more TFZer graphics. I read that a tenant ordered some from Amazon. So I ordered some. I’d hate to be in the pickle of not being able to get on a bus! Should be arriving tomorrow.
The day was dark, the sun didn’t put in a smile all day. The mist lingered on and on.
11:25hrs: Then I got seriously involved in graphicalisationing on CorelDraw. Back later.
15:55hrs: The intercom chimed out.
It was a young lady bringing me my prescriptions that the chemist told Obergruppenfhurer, Gymnast and Warden Deana yesterday, would be arriving on Saturday! No complaints, though! I’m just glad that I didn’t go out, expecting them the next day.
At least Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, have kept to their habit of making me confused, every month. This time in reverse, and delivering them early for once, thanking them, kindly.
I thanked the young lady and gave her a can of cola with Jack Daniels in, to show my appreciation.
I put the bag on the kitchen counter and carried on trying to sort out the mess I’d gotten myself in with the graphicalising. I was trying to save some space on the hard-drive, by transferring some of the earlier graphics I’d done, to the drop-box. Well, I got deeper and deeper into a state of utter frustration and confusion. All caused by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, making me hit wrong buttons, or hold onto them too long, or not pressing, but thought I had!
Suddenly it was 19:00hrs! Oh, dearie me! I’m tired and weary. The head is spinning, and I have to give up. Too mentally-exhausted, to carry on. I did get so involved in the task as well.
I’ll make some Dagwood filled rolls, I dare not risk any cooking, how I feel now. Beef and tomato methinks. I may have to fight off, falling asleep to eat them. I’ll get them made up now. I’m an old furshlugginer, who should have my name mentioned in despatches!
Well, that was farcical again! No bread, other than frozen! Some, thick bellied and thicker brained old pensioner forgot to take the loaf out of the freezer, didn’t he! This failure of memory means I shall have bake to some cobs in the oven after all! It’s quicker than defrosting without a microwave. Grumph!
I shall have to wait for the oven to get hot enough, of course. Bungle-Grumplewuncks! What happened to the hours of the day? Still, If I can save internal memory on the computer, it will be worth the anguish.
What next? Here’s what: I burnt my left middle finger, as I put the rolls in the cooker for regulated ten-minutes. Burnt my fingers as I got the rolls out, and again when I tried too soon to slice and butter them.
I ran the water over the worst of the scolds. At least there was nothing on the plate to go cold while I did this. I was getting wearer all the time, but the thought of eating kept me going. Hahaha!
Eventually, after making many crumbs spread about, and cutting my little finger on the slicer-knife, I got the plate served up.
As I took the photo of the served-up meal, I spotted something in the background, that made me feel even more incompetent than I actually am. Laying, where I now remember leaving the Warburtons on top of the crock-pots. The packet of Soft Brown Bread Thins. I’d left them there this morning, so I would not forget to them! Bungleworthiness!
I just left the pots in the bowl soaking, all I was up to was sleeping. I got down in the c1968 recliner, put the TV on, and found a documentary on which interested me, about the Australian murder, years ago. I’ve not watched the telly so late for donkey’s years, I was shattered and all uptight, and decided to watch this long two-hour long programme.
I actually stayed awake for the first hour (well, there was a few short nod-offs). Then the big advertisements came on! I still don’t know how things ended, cause I drifted into sleep mode!
For five hours, uninterrupted kip! That was pulchritudinously, welcome!
01:40hrs: I stirred into life, with many aches, pains, stiffnesses and a violently Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley session! Which put an end to any thoughts of nodding off again. More so, when, as I was tackling the risky business of heaving my gelatinous body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. As the poor old feet and toes hit the deck to take my midriff-heavy weight, not only did I once again nearly topple back into the recliner but almost went over as Shirley gave my shoulder a right shaking!
This was concerning. Not why it was happening, obviously the Peripheral Neuropathy inspired Nicodemus Neurotransmitters, were playing up. But a worry, over how I am going to get around this morning. As if by magic, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley suddenly sank back to barely a tremor, she was persistent with it mind you, but this did not hamper my movement. Phew! Bit of luck there!
I came close to having an involuntary leak (well there was a tiny drop or two. However, the PPs coped with it well) and I got to the bucket in time. More good fortune? Worrying this is! Haha! The wee-wee mode was so different again. It was in the WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) style.
So, off to the kitchen, to do the medicationing and make a brew of Assam tea. The sphygmomanometer Sys and Dia results were lower today, the Pulse was up a bit, and the temperature showed up as just ‘Low’.
I took the tea into the computer/front/junk room, and as I got seated int the swivel-chair, I noticed that the veins might be coming back up again on the right leg?
I grafted (mentally) away for five hours, getting the many photographs into yesterdays blog, eventually getting it finished and posted off. I put a lot of stuff on Pinterest, then went on the WordPress Reader section.
Went to make another brew, and took a photograph of the amazingly blue sky. It had been drizzling early in the night, and as I opened the window to take the shot, the cold raindrops fell in onto my bare, ginormously-elephantine, flabby tummy. By Jiminne, I jumped. Hahaha!
Then I went on Facebooking. It’ll be a long job, with all the Nottingham photos to go in the albums. I’ll be back, eventually. Blimey, three hours later, still not finished, and time for the ablutions to be done. Put Computer Cameron in sleep-mode, and off for a limp to the wet room. I’m back.
Ablutionary Activities Report!
Well, that could have gone better!
I dropped the shower-seat moving it, and hit my right knee and foot!
Took a wee-wee, and found Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
Lost half-an-hour stopping it bleeding!
Dropped the toothpaste (2), then the brush (2)!
Split the gum at the back, near one of the toothache teeth!
Cut the mole on my right cheek!
Dropped the shower gel, it burst open, and I had a mini-skating session…
Then went down on the right knee!
More time and mess in getting back up again!
Had a medicating marathon!
Tore the first pair of PPs out of the new bag!
Clouted the left knee this time.
I tried to wash of some spots from the feet. They were new growths!
It’s a damned good job I didn’t have to face the Sock-Glide!
Oh, Silver Lining Search Result: There were no toe-stubbings!
Weary as I was after the session, escaping to town yesterday, with it being colder, I had to wear a pair of socks for the first time in months. They now had to be hand-washed. I got them done, wrung and hung. Well, not really hung. I used the stand-up airer top get them dried on. But must remember to keep checking and moving them.
They are the fantastically comfortable, diabetic, non-binding, non-constrictive, circulatory Diabetic Bamboo Socks. Seam-free, moisture-wicking, anti-bacterial hosiery, made of Bamboo fibre. Expensive, but worth every penny! Anyone diabetic, or on Warfarin, should try them. I got mine from Amazon.
Not having worn any for so long with the toe-nails unable to be cut, I feared the nails might damage the socks and give me some pain, but they were fine.
I then got the bath towel in the flat airer. I worked out a way to thread the cloth, so most of the thin heating bars are effective. Smarmy Smug Mode Adopted!
Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, taking a photo of the dank morning outside as I did so. The drizzle was still falling a bit. There were no noises, from any dogs barking or vehicles that I could hear at all. Nor any signs on tellurians either.
I hope the worlds not ended and nobody has told me? Hahaha! I’m not wearing any socks again, with me not going out.
I’ve not heard anything from the Antiocoagulatipon and Thrombosis clinic about my INR blood test yet? The level might be fine. I checked the new growths, spots whatever on the feet again. Oddly there didn’t seem to be as many as earlier after the shower? But the body is lymphatic and etiolated. I wonder
I got ontop updating this blog. As far as here, and had to go on CorelDraw to get some graphics done. Back in a while (probably about November! Har-har!)
I was making some measurement to use in a graphicalisation, and ‘blimus and flipping ‘eck,’ it just went so dark, I thought my earlier joke about the end of the world might come true after all! Hahaha! It stayed dull for a couple of minutes, then it brightened up a tad?
Cornish pattie with BBQ sauce. Potatoes a chicken BBQ stick, and a pot of tasteless raspberry jelly. Taste Rating: 7.5/10.
The Bonners BBQ sauce was delightfully tangy and sweet at the same time. I wish I’d bought more than one tin, now. Tsk!
I got the pots washed, and stripped, getting ready for the kip under the quilt, and doubts came over me about a few things. Had I got the bank card safe? Where were the house keys and fob? A few other uncertainties as well, I had to investigate. All okay. During the search for peace of mind, I came across the Anticoagulation INR blood test result, in the hallway, posted earlier.
The paperwork had a new layout and page to it. (Or I’d just not noticed it before?)
It now shows: Note To Patients: On the day of your appointment if you are waiting for your dosage, you should be available between 3:00pm and 6:00pm on the telephone number we have for you. So we can contact you with any urgent changes to your dose. If you are not contacted, you should continue with your present dose until your new Anticoagulation Therapy record is received. Fair enough!
The INR level was well down at 2.1 but within the range. The service is struggling midst the Coronavirus mess, and the next test was not due until 23/06/2020, in two weeks time. A lot of pressure on then, I believe they have had nurses taken from them to work elsewhere, and new nurses training for the Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis testing unit.
Finally, I got down into the £300, second-hand recliner. Because the other morning doing the ablutions, Rado 4 Extra was offering ‘Yes, Minister’, the first episode, it had rekindled my liking of the programme, and I put on and started to watch the DVD of the first series.
That did the trick! I was soon off, into the (Dream filled) land of Nod.
00:00hrs: Already up, and finished working on this updating of the Tuesday post, and sent it off.
Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I Pinterested a few snaps, next onto Facebook. Spent some time on Facebooking. But it eases and pleases me, and I enjoy it. Then, on to CorelDraw to get some graphics done.
Oh, Gawd! From nowhere Dizzy Dennis attacked, I really did think I was going to fall off of the swivel chair, and a headache developed at the same time, on the right side of the head! Enough, when I felt stable enough, I got sat down with a drink of orange juice, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, which prevented me from nodding off for a while, but sure enough, as things calmed down further, I drifted off into the land of nod!
I stirred around 06:00hrs. Disinclined to wake or get up, and the Thought-Storms started. The need for a wee-wee arose, and the urgency increased. So at least that got me and my oleaginous, body out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, not-working, disconnected rickety recliner, and to the wet room.
A brand new style off wee-wee today, (It’s interesting having so many ailments!) I’ve Christened the mode as UDYP (Urgent-Deep-Yellow-and-Painful). It’s encouraging to be able to report that Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding at all! All done, washed the hands and contact points, and as I was going out of the door, I had to go back in to deal with another rushing-gush wee-wee of the same variety!
I wiped and washed again, and off to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing.
For some reason, unknown to me, as the bare feet got on the floor tiles, they were so cold to the touch?
The BP readings were different this morning. SYS well up, at 173, DIA 83, Pulse 77, and Temperature was 37.8°c. When I got out the tablet dispensers, I worked out that I had enough up until Saturday morning. This is when ILC, Ballerina, Comforter, Obersturmbannfuhreress, and Warden, Deana, said they should be delivered by the Carrington Chemist. I made a brew…
Gordon Bennett! The first sip was taken, and agony invaded the teeth! Cricky, it made me jump! Of course, the toothache was well set in, and kept on all through the day! Gragnangles!
Coronavirus is to blame for many of my new ailments.
The chemist cannot get the Saccades Sandra spray yet!
The paediatrist is closed until further notice!
The dentist is closed until further notice!
The Audio Clinic (Running out of hearing aid batteries) closed until further notice!
The Opticians closed until further notice!
I decided I’ll see if I can get out and about later, and try the audio clinic for some batteries. That is if I can manage the haul up that terribly steep and demanding Park Row hill. Might I change my mind later?
I took a photo of Chestnut Walk. I think there is a free car parking space available. A seldom known, extraordinary happening here at Windwood Heights?
I got on with updating. The rain and darkness repeatedly came and went, and finally, the updating got finished. The job was all done and dusted.
Off I trudged to the wet room.
The ablutions were soon got into with gusto. The shaving didn’t go exactly according to plan. But the teggies were painless, well not pain-free, cause of Toothache Thomas, but at least I didn’t have any bleeding from the gums.
The pins were looking a little battered, and still very much of the ghostly-anaemic design! The volumingargantuan, onerous hog-like, ponderosity, bulk, flabby stomach, may well have gained a couple of inches of girth overnight? But I’m sure I did not do any nocturnal nibbling?
After getting myself dressed (I can do it on my own now, you know, Hahaha!), I pottered about faffling, panicking, and double-checking everything before I dare set out to catch the bus to town to get the hearing-aids (And take some photographs).
I went for a wee-wee, and this time it was of the SS (Short-Sharp) mode of exudation and was the colour of a suppuration, it really was yellowy-green! Don’t be jealous, though, if you live long enough, it can still happen to you. Then all these exotic, appealing ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and mysteries I write about, will become apparent and understandable for you. I didn’t mention logical on purpose. (Hahaha!)
A semi-serious, convoluted message came from my EQ! It was certain; The trip out was going to be frustrating and depressing. I should consider not going out! Mmm? The Emotional Quotient is rarely, if ever wrong! Foolishly I ignored the warning and got everything needed in the three-wheeler guide, made sure the bus-pass, door swipe, keys and crossword book were taken with me. Double checked the lights, faucets and electrics, all seemed okay, and off I went. With a big bag of recyclable material over my shoulder (not really, it was on top of the trolley, Haha!), and out I hobbled.
Down, bag in the bin, and ambled along Chestnut Drive, as the drizzle started to come, camera at the ready. I stopped for a few moments under the Chestnut tree while the rain was more substantial, but it soon weakened to just the odd spit falling.
As I got to the bus stop, I met Welsh William. I told him about Timothy Price’s marvellous clip of the owlet and told him if he gave me his email address, I’d forward the link. Then told him of what happens in the video. No interest was shown, which surprised me, I thought he’s loved to have seen it. He went off talking to someone else. Ah, well! Bless him, his free choice.
I limped over to where Peggy and Christine were nattering and bothered them. (Hehehe!) Peggy had on a seriously good face-mask, black, and it looked good quality built. Christine had hers on, and me too! They then told me that, from next Monday, anyone travelling on a bus must wear a mask. I decided to get another or two while out today.
They all got on the Bestwood bound bus with some other tenants, and I was all alone again. Then, slowly it dawned on me why! I’d got the bus times wrong once-again, Humph! I think that my EQ was right! With only going out once in months, I’d forgotten about the L9 service now being on a permanent Saturday roster, meaning a bus every two hours! I did feel a clot!
Back to the flat, and I took a few more photographs en route. One of Winchester Court main entrance. The flowers outside Winwood Court’s foyer, they were beautiful, especially so, with the petrichor, the aroma of earth and rain! Lovely! Then snapped the frontage of Winwood Court. A lot of open windows today?
Back to the apartment, and put these pictures into the computer. A letter had been received, telling us work will be taking place on the roof and will be noisy.
It’s going to be a long day, now I have to catch the 10:30hrs bus. (If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have bothered going out, the hearing aids batteries, and a mask so I can get on a bus, persuaded me to go though! Of course; as you will read later, I managed to get neither of wanted items! (Note to Self: In future, do not ignore the EQ!) Grumblecronkackers!
I set out once again to get the bus, at the right time this time, for the 10:30 L9. I was the only passenger to get on, but the bus was fullish, and with the side-saddle seats not in use, I had to sit on the outside of a standard chair, and hang onto the three-wheeler, to prevent it rolling away at each corner the Graham Hill fan, the driver took.
I was feeling worn out by the time we got into Nottingham. I was going to call into Wilko and the Poundland shop to see if the yhad any face-masks in. But, Wilko’s had a note on their window, telling us they had none left, but would do their best to get some for us!
And the socially-distanced queue for the Poundland shop filed around the corner for hundreds of yards! So, I had a walk to the Poundstretcher store on Milton Street. This where I got the face-mask from last week. Of course, they had none left in stock, either! Gragnackles!
However, I did get of my favourite McVities orange flavoured chocolate biscuits. A bottle of Woolite washing liquid and a bag of black bags.
As I came out of the shop, into the more torrential rain now, I met Gertrude, an old friend from years ago, and we had a natter in a doorway to keep dry. But her telling me she had just gone tot he Audio Centre to get herself some hearing aids, and they were closed, did not do me a lot of good! Silver-Lining Search Result: At least this saved me hobbling up the hill to find out!
I made my way through Trinity Square, avoiding the now-famously suicidal and dangerous to others, Deliveroo pavement cyclists.
It was a depressing hobble. What with so few people about, and those I met or spoke to were all down in the dumps, or in a snappy mood.
The change of rules for the bus passengers having to wear face-masks, causing another shortage of supplies.
The drizzling rain soaking us all through.
The much colder weather, and a general atmosphere of, well, what’s the words I’m looking for? Depression is too strong a word… oh, I don’t know though!
I walked down and through the Slab Square and onto Wheeler Gate, noticing the two, what looked like new Police Community Officers, in their brand new uniforms and stab-vest, watching as they ambled around, ignoring the pavement cyclists, the vehicles parked on double-yellow lines. A scuffle taking place for a moment on Long Row encouraged them to walk up King Street in the opposite direction.
I called in the Poundland shop there, and they were not busy at all. The manager even greeted me as I went in, asking me, cheerily; “To take your time, no rush, you might spend more then!” Hahaha! It worked, no face masks available there either, but I did spend a bit. Buying, 2 lemon-sherbet concentrated disinfectants, (No, I’m not joking) 2 Lemon Verbena & Cucumber air sprays, (No, I’m not jesting here, either, Hehe!) 1 can of beef in gravy for a quid. 1 pack of Indian seedless grapes, a packet of walnut-halves, and cashew nuts. A packet of BBQ chicken pieces, and a packet of pork slices with stuffing! And a pack of six mini-jelly pots! By gum, the lady who helped me put them through earned her can of G & T!
I paid-up and had a hobble in the rain to St John’s Church, and called in the Sainsbury’s small shop, to see if they had any face-masks available. Nope! Shame! But they did have some decent looking tomatoes of which I bought a pack and some seafood sticks.
I had a wander around the City Centre, before going to the bus stop, cause I had plenty of time. I spotted the imitation police officers, now on Upper Parliament Street.
I made my way to the top of Queen Street. The drizzle was easier now. A police car sped by, followed by an ambulance. And the Theatre Royal & Royal Concert Hall, surely one of the ugliest building ever built?
Then as I was going down to the bus stop, one of the infamous Deliveroo cyclists, floated down Queen Street at a fast rate of knots, in the wrong direction. Queen Street is one way, up the hill!
I considered pointing this illegal Road Traffic Act naughtiness out to the two heroic imitation policemen who were still nearby, with their hands in their new tunic pockets, keeping away from the earlier well avoided, Long Row scuffle.
But they had given me some rum looks when I photographed them earlier, so I thought better of it. Hahaha!
The L9 arrived with two drivers, and they kept me out in the rain for a few minutes while they chatted. No help offered in getting my heavily overloaded walker-guide onto the bus. I had to sit in the same deadly seat as going into town. They got off, of the bus.
I got one of the chicken pieces out of a bag to nibble. When the boss man got back on, he said: “There’s no eating allowed on the bus, youth!” And kindly offered me a scowl, worthy of a David Cameron sneer! And so I stopped eating!
The ride home was uncomfortable and I banged my ankles, elbows and knuckles, more than a few times as I fought to stop the trolley wandering off each time the bus screeched around a corner.
I was well in the dumps by the time we got back to Winwood Heights.
EQ was right! Colin Cramps were coming on already!
As I got into the flat’s foyer, Josie came behind me, and we had a little natter. When she heard of my problems in getting a face-mask, she fetched one for me to have. How kind of her! I got the fodder put away, and made a mug of Glengettie.
I updated this diary for a couple of hours, then, very late on now, I got the beef nosh sorted out. Beef and gravy, with extra caramelised gravy added, potatoes, garden peas, apple pies, seedless grapes, and lemon yoghourt. Flavour rating: 8/10.
So late, so tired, and soon slid into a much-needed sleep.
An Irritable day, with the odd pleasant highlights.
22:40hrs: Sunday evening: Woke up with such a jump, bit of a panic, cause I didn’t know what or why I had sprung awake so suddenly!
No other choice than to have a look around to investigate, see if I can find the cause of my unexpected vivification.
I carefully removed my avoirdupois, fat, fleshy, gross, outsize, paunchy, plump, porcine, portly, stout, over-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968 recliner, and limped to the balcony for me first gander, no signs of anything out of the ordinary.
The same result in the kitchen. Had got a bit of a wobble on here, from Dizzy Dennis. Stood still for a while, clinging to the wall and walking stick for a while, my balance returned. But only a fleeting visit this time.
In the miniature-hallway, I could see one of the black bags I’d put there earlier sticking out a bit. I went to have a closer look to see if the p[lastic bags of rubbish had fallen and made the mystery noise?
Nope, they all seemed to be where I’d left them in the first place earlier in the night. Dizzy Dennis was trying to revisit me. It’s not right, this!
As if to test my sanity, as I was taking this picture, the spare walking stick I keep at the front door slowly slid away from the wall and fell on the bags?
A peer into the wet room, all seemed to be okay in there, no signs of mishaps.
I turned off the wall-heater I’d left on. Sad, innit? What a Schemiel, I am!
A had a quick look in the junk room. I try not to look in this room as much as possible. It only brings on feelings of blame, guilt, humiliation, embarrassment, self-hatred, and destroys what iota of confidence I have left! Tsk!
I nipped back again into the wet room for a wee-wee and took a snap of the tootsies. The overgrown toes and heels were particularly painful. Also, the limbs looked rather etiolated, anaemic and cadaverous-like. But I knew I’d not snuffed it yet, cause I took this picture and put it in this blog. It might have been an imitation of Big-Foot, but more likely Pale-Foot. Hahaha!
So, whatever it was that disturbed my beloved slumber, will have to remain unknown. Just a part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission? (Me? Feeling downtrodden? Never! Hahaha!)
I got a bottle of spring water and got the computer on to start this blog off, and there was some knocking coming from somewhere above me. No idea where, but seemed to be coming from a distance? Not that it bothered me much, if at all now that I’d decided to stay awake and get on with the computing tasks.
I got this going and went to get another bottle of spring water. I don’t know what’s a matter with me, but I just do not fancy a mug of tea, that’s a first! But I keep sipping the spring water that I’ve added a drop of orange cordial to. I took these three photographs over about five minutes, and the changing sky was impressive, I thought.
Then I went on Pinterest and added a few photographs. On the WordPress Reader. Next, onto TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking. By gum, I enjoyed that!
I got up to make another orange drink. Argh! Glubbledonkeeeeshski! Stubbed my toe on the vacuum! How I managed not to shout out loud, was a miracle! I made a right-good job of it too. Hitting three toes, not one, oh, no, Three of ’em! But it didn’t bother me!
I pondered over whether I could now get back to sleep for a while? But thought not, the mind is too active now. So, I went on CorelDraw to get some graphics made up in advance. I only got one finished!
Botherations, now I suddenly feel tired enough to get some kip, but also hungry? I’ll have a pot noodle, and put the TV on. That should ensure sleep cometh. If I remember rightly, the last time I had a Pot Noodle, it helped things to move in the Porcelain Throne usage department?
I ate the pot of Spare-Rib flavoured noodles and settled to watch a documentary.
I can’t even remember falling to sleep, but I must have almost immediately; waking up four hours later at 07:45hrs and feeling much refreshed. It a few seconds for the grey-cells to activate, but I was soon reinvigorated into activity, full of plans of what to get done! (Unnatural and worrying, I know!)
As I dismounted the £300, decrepit, second-hand c1968 recliner, I noticed that nearly all of the veins, spider, saphenous, popliteal, tibial and femoral, had gone into hiding? Hahaha! What was going on here then? Amazing!
I had a wee-wee in the wet room, and the planning and envisioning started as I got into the kitchen to do the medicationalising. The Sys as down nicely (at last!), the pulse up a tad, but I don’t think its too high. At 36.6°, the temperature was up, also.
Then a determined effort was made to sort out the waste bags. I made up another small white bag of recyclables and put the sizeable 80-litre back with the others. Planning to put all of the smaller bags down the waste chute, and take the big one down in the lift to the caretaker’s area.
I got all, bar the big bag on the three-wheeler guide walker (not an easy job, as you can see, Haha!) Of out and to the waste room chute. Got them all down without any bother, and limped back, glad that I’d used the walker. It is so much safer and more comfortable on the feet than using the walking stick.
Back to the flat, and had a go at doing an earlier Iceland order, so I could put some of the Skimmed Viva milk on, for Jenny. Here goes. Got it done, coming tomorrow. I let Jenny know.
Got some new potatoes in the crock-pot, the yare smaller ones this time, so should get cooked in time, I hope. Added just some sea-salt this time. No more fancy seasonings this time!
Then got another of the zip-up jumpers hand-washed. Bit of a messy job. But got it done, wrung and hung. These are hard to ring-out, but the material drips down quickly, and I kept twisting at the bottom every ten-minutes or so. The one I did yesterday is hanging in the hall, above the airer.
Then went of Facebooking again, to see comments and a few piccies. I was on the TFZer site for so long, up to now, I’ve wrung out the jumper eleven times! Still, it’s getting dryerer all the time. Haha! Just finished on Facebooking The zip-up jumper has been wrung out… well, I don’t know, it must be near 50 times by now. Hehe!
The landline chirped int life. And a certain amount of satisfaction was obtained, when I found that it was the delightful and beautiful Hristina, my favourite Phlebotomy Nurse, calling! She said she would be in to take my blood, tomorrow, between 09:00 > 11:00hrs. This cheered me a tad! I have not had a blood test for about 3-4 weeks now, Coronavirus being the reason. And I’ve not seen Hristina (Pronounced in English as Christina) for eight or more weeks.
Getting late now, and Weariness Willy is kicking in. I’ll get the nosh done while I’m still awake.
Guess who burnt his arm on the oven tray? Ahem!
I went on the balcony, to take a photo of Chestnut Walk, and wondered, where have all the red cars gone? Not one red-one was in view on the site!
I got the nosh prepared next.
A quick nosh tonight. The spuds, mushy peas with vinegar, battered fish and tomatoes. A fair dollop of fodder, but I ate it all up, like the good boy I am. Haha!
The weariness was getting a bit serious now. I got the pots washed and settled myself down in the c1968, second-hand, broken-down recliner. (Thanks for this, to my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, who broke the recliner, when flat-searching, finding and taking my valuables, while I was the hospital after the stroke.)
I got settled proper and was soon off into a wonderfully satisfying deep sleep.
A couple of hours or so later, a scarily ongoing for a few seconds-worth of noise woke me up. Clattering, pinging, breaking glass, and other types of sounds were heard for a few seconds… then the brain engaged and panic ensued from mt grey-cells! “What was that!”
I freed my wobbly-stomached torso from the chair, grabbed the wooden walking stick, gained by balance, and fretfully made my way to where I thought the noise came from, the kitchen. The prop I use for hanging up the handwashing to drip dry, which balanced between the two wall cupboards, had tumbled down!
What a sad mess! The prop had brought down basins, cleaning products, plates, trays etc. as it fell.
I took a photograph halfway through the cleaning and clearing up. By the time I’d got it all sorted out the having to use the step ladders, and all of the bending etc. had done me in. I did not tackle the broken pottery, swept it to a corner and left it to be sorted in the morning. I had to stop before it was all done, and just get down to let the breathing settle, and soon nodded off, thankfully.
03:30hrs: I stirred reluctantly and felt the need for a wee-wee developing. I took a snap of the sadly overgrown toenails, and they stuck out from the thin quilt. I must get this quilt hand-washed later today, along with the two zip-up jumpers, I’m not too keen on the idea, but needs must and all that!
I ejurated common sense and went to get up without checking on the ailments first. No sooner nearly upright, and I was back down again with a ‘Thud,’ back into the £300, c1968, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were instantly proffering forth pain, and, judging by the wet warm sensation, were bleeding as well! Not a very promising start to the day!
After a few mild curse words and questioning of my point in continuing, I regained my composure. And checked over things, yes, the piles will need attention. So, gingerly I made my way to the wet room. I took a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee and investigated the rear-ends requirements. Cleaning and medicating ensued. (Silver-Lining Findings): At least Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding. I had a good wash of the hands. I got a bit carried away with it, Hehehe!
Off to the kitchen, to get the medications, palmoscopy, injecting, creaming, ear holes oiling, and sphygmomanometerisationing was done.
The SYS was back up high again, Sys 172, DIA 79, Pulse 80, and the temperature was 35.4°c. There was no need for any extra pain-killers this morning. The rear end is a bit sore where I fell back down in the chair on Harold’s Haemorrhoids, but not too bad.
As I was taking this shot of the morning view, it dawned on me, I seek not fortunes or fame, but only ataraxia. But obviously, this is impossible; I don’t think it exists for anyone on earth, just a daydream state of mind. At the back of my warped troubled brain, I hoped I was wrong. I am an idiot!
I decided to take a photo of a chap who was walking down the middle of Chestnut Walk to the hill up to Woodthorpe Grange Park.
Now, how I managed to take four pictures is beyond me! I checked the camera, and it was on the ‘Auto’ option. Then as he walked to the gravel hill, I took another photo but took two this time?
Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were not playing up, nor was Shaking Shaun or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. So why, how?
I made another brew of Thompsons Punjana and started on the updating of the Saturday blog. Then another graphic finished the Saturday blog, posted it, and the links off. On to Pinterest, WordPress Reader, then TFZer Facebooking.
Stopped to get ablutions tended to. And a fantastic session it was! Dropsies? No more than eight, no toe-stubbings, trapped fingers. No knocking into or anything over either!
Smug-Mode-Engaged!.
The leg ulcer looks like it’s changed its mind about coming back and is much fainter now. I’m chuffed with this accident-free ablution session!
Made a start preparing Josie’s and my cheesy potatoes. Chives, grated Leicester cheese, salt and a knob of butter, well bashed and mashed. Got Josie’s meal on the server tray, and wheeled it to her door. She seemed pleased with it.
I got stuck into my nosh. The boiled new potatoes had been in the crock-pot for about six-hours but were not fully cooked, so they found their way into the waste bin sharpish. Flavour Rated: 5/10. A smidge disappointed, I rose and got the washing-up done, and as I did so, the doorbells chimed out.
Blimey, I’d forgotten all about the Amazon delivery coming. Burkinhamianism! It was the Stubbs Hickory bottles and the bags of Tiramisu Cashew nuts.
I got the Stubbs in the cupboard, and nuts in the spare room, after taking out bubble-wrapping, and put it in the box with the others, I aim to hand these to ILC and Ice-skating champion, Scharführeress Julie. She loves to destroy them, Pop, pop! Haha!
Then I got some handwashing done, but only one of the zip-up jumpers, but it’s a start. Got it washed, wrung and hung!
Then of to the Porcelain Throne, but Constipation Konrad ensured there was no action. Despite my best painful efforts! Hunglebrunkdunk!
Washed, and as I was coming out of the room, a sudden weariness and tiredness came over me.
The only thing to do was get sat down in the none-working, tattered, £300, second-hand, uncomfortable rickety recliner, and let nature take its course. Surprisingly, I was asleep within ten minutes, and having afternoon nightmares with it.
Gruumblesodditluck! I rose up and decided to get the black bags sorted ready for the morning, and by gum, the sun came out, so late in the day as well, bootiful it certainly was, though.
I amassed about eight or nine small bags for the skip. It was too late to take them to the chute now, the noise of the falling bags on there way down, they would disturb my fellow residents and neighbours. Not that it mattered to someone above who was tapping and clunking away, merrily doing something or other.
As I was going to get my head down and try again for sleep, I had to shoot off to the Porcelain Throne again. I half-expected another failed evacuation; and got the crossword book out. After a few minutes, the movement began! All of its own accord and under the guidance of the innards, it ground its way painfully out. I thought it would was never going to end… and when it did with a thud, more than a splash, the relief was so very welcome!
3:30hrs: I woke in a confused state, yes, even more than usual! The Thought-Storms were not making much sense either, a sort of medley of verbal mayhem, mostly making no logical or appertaince. self-arguments, that should have been of no concern, in my bonce!
I took a shot of my, painful tootsies, no idea why? Then I rose gingerly up onto my poor agony-ridden pins and toes, and the brain seemed to be still sat in £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, none-working, recliner.
I, for some reason, decided to try and master the annoyingly difficult WordPress editor again. Mainly, because the Google blogger was about as bad, although it does have a ‘full justify’ button, and no damned confusing blocks.
It’s no good, I’m giving up. The full-justify doesn’t work!
I’ve taken over three hours to get this far.
To complicated, frustrating.
Grammarly no longer works on WordPress!
I am most frustrated and annoyed!
The instructions on how to get rid of the new crap editor was followed, and the things that I should chose were no on the page.
02:30hrs: I woke, in no mood to become active in mind or body. Gawd blimey, I was still so tired! Never have I had such Clinomania, and reluctance to wake up, let alone get up! A little discussion between my brain vs my lack of willpower and interest in anything, resulted in the recreance winning this time, and I nodded off into sweet obliviousness.
03:10hrs: I stirred again, and had another battle with myself as to get up or not! I seemed to be in a state of hypnagogia again. I felt I had to rise, whatever the body and ailments told me, and I was determined to. I fell asleep again!
04:10hrs: I came back to reality yet again. This time with the need for a wee-wee, forcing me to beat my reluctance for returning to the land of the living. Robotically, I inched my ginormous wobbly-stomached burdened body out of the creaking, £300, second-hand c1968, grotty, repellently beige-coloured recliner, with the sticks assistance, I got up onto my painfully long toenailed feet.
As I struggled to get to the wet room, I espied signs of nocturnal nibbling on the Ottoman tray! But at the time, no feelings of guilt were sensed, for the wee-wee was getting more urgent now!
Unfortunately, in my haste, I knocked corner stand, and I heard things fall off of it. No stopping, onward, the wee-wee must be released! And what a wee-wee! An HPSAUOC (High-Pressure-Sprinkly-Unexpectedly-Orange-Colour) style. But not a long one, and no pain with it, so that was good!
As I was cleaning and medicating Little Inchies bleeding fungal lesion, in between the stabs of pain as the Daktacort® 2% w/w Miconazole nitrate and hydrocortisone cream was applied, it dawned on me, (things like this do happen (occasionally). I spotted some empty clementine juice cans on the Ottoman.
I wonder if these might be the reason the orange wee-wee?
The ankle-ulcer was looking far betterer, and Arthur Itis was not acting up too much either, which was a plus.
It might have been my eyes or desire, but when I sneezed, I’m sure the Big Belly Bernard shook less than usual? (Well, I can dream?)
Also, and as well as, Anne Gyna was kind to me. No Dizzy Dennis or Reflux Roger, Shaking Shaun or Back-Pain-Brenda visits!
Fair enough, Toothache Tim and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, and a sore throat was developing. But overall, this getting up late seems to suit me? But, of course, most likely it just fooled the other ailments temporarily. Arnie Schwarzeneggers? They’ll be back!Hehehe!
Washed and off to the kitchen. Where I took a distance shot from the kitchen unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed windows, there were obviously designed by someone suffering from ‘Mere-Exposure Effect’ syndrome.
It was my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, who made me take a close-up, of the City Hospital. The poor lad will be in there this morning, having another biopsy done on his mystery ailment. I thought it might cheer him up a tad, reading this if he can afterwards. The yellow rectangle is the area I zoomed into for the second shot.
All the best, Pete, mate! Nowt you can do, but await the results now. I pray they are good news. I have thought you’d have escaped and taken a photo of the flats? Hehehe!
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, took the medications and got the thermometer and sphygmomanometer out. The machine was like me earlier this morning, not interested in working!
It took me three tries to get it to work. (it took me the same to get up! Hahaha!)
The plates of meat were giving me some stick, and for some unknown reason, the area around where the ankle ulcer comes up now and then was extremely itchy. Yet there were no signs of any inflammation or new growth? With the nails getting ever longer, I’d continued not to wear socks, I even took the slippers off to ease things.
But they’ll go back on after the ablutions are done.
The stomach felt a little firmer, I think. But this might be and usually is, a prewarning of the innards about to kick off. I anticipate a battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Conrad to ensue. Which will prevail I wouldn’t guess. Lately, it seems to go from one extreme to the other nearly every day. Still, it makes for a bit of interest. Haha!
Toothache Tim kicked off on the first sip of tea! That put the mockers on drinking ant brew for the rest of the day. Gangleboggleisations!
I made a start on the blogging update. It was as if someone was turning on a tap every half-hour or so. I swear you can see the imprint of the four-pronged walking stick, and outline of my feet in the carpet, to and from the wet room, I had hobble there so many times! Silver-Lining Search Result: But, at least I got the update done in reasonably good time, with only Shuddering Shoulder Shirley giving any real hassle. My thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis! Bless you, all!
After the umpteenth wee-wee, I made a mug of Glengettie tea and went on CorelDraw while it cooled down before trying it. Argh! Toothache-Tim, was not pleased, in the least! I threw it away. That’s the end of my tea drinking for the day! I took an extra Codeine 30g. (Too late now of course. Silly old sausage!)
I set up the template for today’s blog. Then went on the WordPress reader. Then onto the Facebooking, which I enjoy so much. Then it was time for the ablutions to be tended to.
I’d done the teeth, bloodlessly, but it was a bit painful with Toothache Tim nudging his way into the scene. (Swank-Adopted!) While I was moving the clothes, I’m sure I saw the shape of a rabbits head in the moved flannels. Can anyone else see it, or am I going daft? Or maybe I should say, dafter?
I photographed the stomach before and after the shower. But there was no difference as I could see.
The shaving activity brought about a few dropsies, not many. Razors (4), shaving foam can (2), and a decentish clouting of the back of the hand against the sink. The showering went fine, in fact so well, I was considering giving myself a medal. Hahaha!
I got dried off and set about the perfumery and medication duties. These took longer than the teggies, shaving and showering out together! Olive-piled the ear-holes first. No Saccades Sandra spray left to use, Grungleclapskin! Applied the Germoloid cream (Wince!). Then got some after-shave on the one tiny cut. Sprayed the Brute deodorant over the elephantine body. Last of the Brute spray used up! Got the Phopain gell well-rubbed into the knees. And carefully, Note no toe-stubbing or dropping of the showerhead again! Smug Mode Adopted! I made my way to the front room to get clothed.
I had to get the slippers on, a sharp intake of breath, and a silently mumbled ‘Argh!’ later, and I was ready to get the black bags and recycling prepared for taking downstairs.
While doing this, I decided that tomorrow, I will try to catch a bus to town, (if they are running) and visit, (if they are open), the Poundland shop, now my curfew has been eased. It’s all a bit vague innit? Later I’ll ask on the Winwood Heights Facebook, is anyone knows about the buses and Poundland.
I got the bags made up, and onto the three-wheeled trolley walker. Off to the waste chute room. Gawd! the toes and plates were giving me agony! I pondered over whether going out tomorrow was a good idea or not after all?
I struggled a bit getting the bags in the chute, not because they were heavy or large, they weren’t. The problem was Shuddering Should Shirley had kicked off again, and she meant business this time. This encouraged the right legs involuntary drop-something and have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. Nearly had me over, so it was a good thing I was in such confined space at the time!
I left the trolley in the lift lobby. taking a moody photo of it, with the shadows, as I returned to the flat, to pick up the fob key, just in case when I went down with the big bag of recyclables, I got locked out. (It has happened more than once, Tsk!)
Back and collected the trolley, using the walls in the narrow hallway, so I didn’t worry if I had a funny turn, the dancing returned, or Dizzy Dennis visited.
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was merely giving the odd twitch now, but I knew she had not finished with me yet.
Waiting for the lift, I got the camera out, ready for when the lift doors opened. I’m glad no one was in it at the time. Haha!
Down to the ground floor. Met and had a few words with Ethel in the lobby. Then through the caretaker’s passage to the bins. Both of the caretakers were there outside, and Steve took the bag from me. A few words, during which Shirley gave them a display of quality Shoulder Shuddering. Which drew looks between the two men, and an “Are yer alright? and frowned foreheads. It’s so embarrassing when someone is nearby when this happens. I said I was fine, thanks. I must have looked a right pillock as I shook my way back inside.
I increased the heat to high in the crock-pot with the potatoes in, and opened a tin of peas and put them in a saucepan. Then, as Shirley was easing off, Duodenal Donald started, a bad do too, supported with a bit of stabbing from Anne Gyna. Ah, well, things had been to calm earlier on, it had to come.
I could find no details about the buses on the website. So asked on Winwood Heights Facebook, if anyone knew about the buses or Poundland store. Hugh ‘thinks’ the L9 is running in a Saturday timetable. If so, That’ll do me.
I decided to take some photos from the balcony. Seemed a good idea at the time.
I got the right side Metal-Spring controlled, that needs the recoiling bit pressed and pulled at the same time to do open it, (potentially lethal, but okay for Winwood Heights old folks to use) with merely a bruised finger and elbow this time. Then took a couple of pictures.
Beatiful views
Tried Josie’s door again. No answer.
Tired out and still shaking a bit, I got the nosh prepared. I ate it in an auto-mode, no idea why, but as the concentration gave way to fatigue, I’m sure I enjoyed it.
Wash the pots up, and as the dying sunshine blasted its last beams on earth, I got the camera and tried to take a decent shot of the scene.
It dawned on me then, I can’t remember using the Porcelain Throne today? But being in the languorous, lackadaisical, lethargic state of mind I was in, I wasn’t sure or certain of anything.
I’m not sure what happened for the next half-hour or so, I sort of came-back into focus as I was in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with my legs up high on the old swivel chair, and deep in thought about tomorrows plans to get out to town on the bus. Then I remembered that this will not be possible, I’d forgotten about Jenny’s helping me out ordering stuff for me, it’s being delivered Tuesday. Hey-ho! As much as I was looking forward to getting out, for some reason, this did not bother me? Maybe, I had underlying fears of going out after so many weeks lodged in the flat?
I soon found that Sweet Morpheous was uninterested in letting me get any rest. The Thought-Storms began, tormenting me with memories that I hadn’t recalled for years. I’d guess it was gone midnight by the time I finally managed to nod of.
00:00hrs: I’d just got the Saturday blog done and posted off when midnight arrived.
Sleep has been unavailable, none-existent all night. But now, after setting up this template, I will try again, I need some rest. Why I could not get off earlier is a mystery. Maybe the sudden hot weather, or the day I had yesterday? Everything that happened reminded me of my bad fortunes and luck. I was grumpy with myself and got annoyed and irritable most of the time. Carping in the brain, moaning, cantankerously belly-aching, whining on, and wingeing and ended up boring myself!
Well, at least I got things shut down, and settled my corpulent, boing-boinging bellied body into the second-hand, £300, c1968, puckeringly-beige-coloured recliner, without any injuries.
I’d half-hoped to get off to kip sharpishly, but no. I turned the TV on, that often helps me fall asleep. Especially if some programme comes on, that I want to watch. But insomnia prevailed. I just lay there trying to stop the thought-storming, for ages, hours!
05:15hrs: I bestirred, the main expergefactor being the need for a wee-wee. Out of the recliner, and to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) SWOT (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Tinged), mode. Took the container with me to be cleaned and sanitised. An out-of-the-blue need for the Porcelain Throne was tended to, and a flipping good job I was in the wetroom at the time. Else I never would have made it in time to the Throne! Phew!
Not messy, or gooey, but keenly-painful (they all are nowadays!)
Disappointingly, as I opened the kitchen window, I realised by the wonderful petrichor, I’d missed the rain. The ground outside was not soaking wet, so it must have been a short shower of sorts. But it left a beautiful whiff in the air! A bit colder this morning too.
Made a brew, medications taken, and after another quick wee-wee, the sphygmomanometerisationing commenced. Sys was back up a smidge, and the thermometer read 32.9°c (91.2°f) which is, I think, healthier than it’s been for a while. That is if I remembered the way to convert from Celsius to Fahrenheit. Ended up using Google) My arithmophobia doesn’t help. Nor the discovered too late to counter it, dyscalculia. Sad, innit? But, I had to laugh when they told me about it, it brought to mind Dracula! Hehehe!
For some unknown reason, typing this, reminded of the Dr in the cardiac unit, in the City Hospital. I know I had been given some pre-transplant drugs, but it seems soundly entrenched in my memory – I hope it’s true and not a dream I’d had. A Mr someone or other was going to observe the procedure.
The surgeon came to the bed and told me about this Consultant who was on his way to see me. “We are holding back your other pre-op meds, in case he wishes to speak with you!” “I’ll be back with him later, Mr Chaplin”. I mentioned my name was Chambers. Minutes later, Dr Khandowa introduce me to the Consultant as Mr Chamberlain! I recall thinking: “Gawd-blimey, and he’ll be replacing my ticker in an hour!” Hahaha! He did a good job though.
The assistant who put the metal strips through the ribcage to reseal it afterwards, whoever he was, had put them in, as the nurses said when they came to take them out days later ‘Tighter than we have ever seen them done before! I had never had pain like it before, even when I got shot. The nurse was sat on my legs heaving and puffing to pull the metal strips out. One nurse kept spraying liquid Morphine in my mouth throughout the job. Through it all, I have a distinct, pleasurable occasion though… But of course, once the metal tubing was removed, the nurse had to get off of me and the bed! Shame!
I waffled there again, I beg your pardon.
Then, after one more wee-wee, of a different calibre this one. A SWAT, (Sprinkly-Weak-Apricot-Tinged) configuration. I then made a brew of Thompsons Punjabi, and went on CorelDraw and Paint to make up some urgently–needed graphics for later use.
But plans were again cocked-up. No doubt prompted by the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
At least this time, it only lasted for a few minutes, then came back on of its own accord.
Started again on the graphicalisationing. Three hours later, I was feeling real-weary, and not got o very well with the graphic making. For one, not from the ailments, just from the tired worn-outness. I must get some sleep in, this lack of sleeping is getting farcical. Just to point out one problem its causing; as I wrote ‘farcical’, I thought of a more suitable word, then cleared farcical from the blog, and forgot what the word was I was going to replace it with! So, I put ‘Farcical back in. I down know whether to laugh or cry! Yes, I do! Hahaha!
I rang Sister Hane to ask about Pete, and blow me he was back at home again! He’s to go back in for the biopsy tomorrow. The chap in the ward with him is having chemo and told Pete of the problems with it. I lost the signal while talking. I rang back on the landline, but it doesn’t-half cost to call mobiles on it. Despite all the Up-in-the-Airness of things with the hospital, Pete sounded okay and accepting of things until he gets the job done, and analysis later. His spirits seem reasonably high. Good for him. I’ll have a look at the City Hospital with the binoculars tomorrow, see if I can see him. Hehe! Jane and Pete told me I could go out from tomorrow. But I won’t go without a mask. I’ll check the Government statement later.
A few minutes late, the door chimes rang out the ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ tune. It was Josie, to let me know she was going out with her Nephew, to celebrate his birthday. I wished her all the bestest, but I felt a little concerned she was going out, so soon.
The Nikon camera battery was flat, so I got the Canon to take a photo of the Puff-Puff clouds, and that was flat, in fact, it was dead! I cunningly got out the old Lumix, thinking it might have enough power left in its battery. I didn’t. So, I’ve now got all three on charging. And if I want to watch telly later, the computer will have to come off. I’m such a lucky-bugger. Hair-brained, too!
I got the nosh prepared. I hope I can stay awake long enough to enjoy it. With virtually no sleep for such a long time, I feel confident of dropping off. But, hopefully, not before I want to. Worra life, innit! Into the kitchen to take the meds and prepare the meal.
I remembered about looking at the latest can-do again things Jane mention. So I got the computer back on for a look:
Vulnerable people in England and Wales advised to stay home since the coronavirus lockdown began will be able to go outdoors again from Monday. This change means people will be able to go out with members of their household. Those living alone can meet with someone from another household while maintaining social distancing. Support for shielders, such as food and medicine deliveries, will continue.
Those shielding should not go out to work, to shop or visit friends in their homes. Around 2.5 million UK people were advised to stay at home as lockdown began because they were identified as being at particularly high risk of needing hospital treatment for coronavirus symptoms. Most were notified by their GP. Thelist of people who should be shielding includes, Clinically extremely vulnerable people may include the people listed below, though disease severity, history or treatment levels will also affect who is in this group.
Solid organ transplant recipients. (Ah, I’m in here!)
People with specific cancers:
people with cancer who are undergoing active chemotherapy. (Nope not me!)
people with lung cancer who are undergoing radical radiotherapy. (Nope not me!)
people with cancers of the blood or bone marrow such as leukaemia, lymphoma or myeloma who are at any stage of treatment. (Nope not me!)
people having immunotherapy or other continuing antibody treatments for cancer. (Nope not me!)
people having other targeted cancer treatments which can affect the immune system, such as protein kinase inhibitors or PARP inhibitors (Nope not me!)
people who have had bone marrow or stem cell transplants in the last 6 months, or who are still taking immunosuppression drugs (Nope not me!)
People with severe respiratory conditions including all cystic fibrosis, severe asthma and severe chronic obstructive pulmonary (COPD). (Ah, I’m in here!)
People with rare diseases that significantly increase the risk of infections (such as severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID), homozygous sickle cell). (Nope not me!)
People on immunosuppression therapies sufficient to significantly increase the risk of infection. (No idea what this means!)
Women who are pregnant with significant heart disease, congenital or acquired. (Nope not me!)
People in this group should have been contacted to tell them they are clinically extremely vulnerable.
Some scientists have expressed concerns about England’s easing of lockdown rules while infection rates remain at around 8,000 per day according to the Office for National Statistics. “Many of us would prefer to see the incidence down to lower levels before we relax measures,” said Professor John Edmunds, from the London School of Tropical Hygiene and Medicine and one of the government’s top advisors. “Covid-19 is still spreading too fast to lift lockdown in England,” tweeted Jeremy Farrar, director of the Wellcome Trust.
It’s all confusing to me!
Back to gerrin’ some nosh prepared and eaten. The five-beans in vinegarette were pretty tasteless and bland, despite my adding Hickory and Balsamic vinegar while heating them up. Most disappointing, because it said they were in vinegar, I felt certain they would be delicious and bought four cans! Huh! Three to get rid off.
As for the other stuff, they were all okay. The seedless grapes, this time from Egypt, were a lot less sweet than the Indian ones, but this was alright with me. The sourdough muffins were well Marmited and went well with everything else. I soon satiated my hunger, cleaned the pots, thought about having a shave, but felt so tired I rejected the idea. (Which will probably mean more bleeding when I have to shave so much stubble off in the morning, Tsk!)
I got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, and events seemed to have been lost into the ether. I can remember nothing else, until waking in the morning? And, I got about 6½ hours kip in!
