Inchcockski: Sun/Mon 5th August 2019: Hassles, a water leak in the flat, earache, and got soaking wet in the rain! Humph!

2019 Aug 05

Sunday 4th August 2019

Croatian: Nedjelja, 4 Kolovoza 2019. Godine

I got Josie’s meal going, at least the potatoes on the boil.

Back to trying, or more like praying, the computer failings and faults will have been rectified after my bemused bumbling about not knowing what the hell I was doing or why things had gone so wrong – and ended up restarting the computer.

I noticed as I glanced down at my legs, it appeared that the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. They lie hidden somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, had revisited me! This time to tattoo the legs with more spider-veins, print some more blood papsule, etc. a bruise or two, a few added spots on my legs? Hehe!

I opened Firefox, and it let me get this far, anyway, without the odd not understandable to me messages about changing various drivers to continue using this computer, and self-crashing websites.

I Pray for things to stay this way – working!

I went in to check on Josie’s potatoes in the pan. The handle on the lid fell to pieces as I lifted it off the saucepan.

Then I spilt boiling water over the stove, but managed to avoid getting any on my body! Lucky, there! Got it cleaned up.

Then second the challenge of the day. I bits would not fit together again. However, I kept a lid that does not match any pan, other than one I burnt and ruined a month ago. Then I cunningly took the screw-in-handle off of that one, and put it onto the bigger lidless lid! Now my being as much use as a whipped-cream jet engine, to DIYing. This took me a while to sort out and get done.

Eventually, I partially succeeded! There wasn’t too much blood loss. I blame the wobbling shaking hand and fingers (Even though, they were not playing up at the time – Hehehe!) And the screwdrivers. Humph!

Back to the computer, which was not playing up. Thank You, God! And got on with updating this blog for a while.

Then, it was time for me to get the late ablutions done. A wee-wee beforehand proved to be of the DTAO (Dribbling-tinkling-all-over) variety. I have to remember to take two samples with me in the vials tomorrow, for two of the three nurses appointments.

I shall put the computer into sleep mode, and return later folks! (I hope).

The shave, shower, and sh… Porcelain Throne Session was not one of the easiest I’ve ever had:

  • Shaving cuts.
  • Dropped a disinfectant bottle, shaving-foam, razor, soap, and toilet cleaner bottle!
  • Clouted head on the wall bar in the shower. As the right leg did a combined version of a one-minute waltz and Neuropathic Schuhplattler.
  • Bruises from the sock-glide battle.
  • Stubbed my toe.
  • And got bescumbered while on the throne.

I concentrated on Josie’s meal preparation. The photo I took of it, joined the realms of the so many mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, and disappeared from the SD card, off into the ether?

I delivered the tray of fodder to Josie’s door and left her to eat it while it was still warm. Back to the flea-pit, and set about doing my nosh.

Just taking the potatoes out from the oven, and Sister Jane rang on the landline. I felt terrible having to cut her off so quickly but explained why. I was worried I might have left something in the kitchen in a dangerous state. Hot oven door open, pan of peas still in saucepan boiling, that sort of thing. I’ll try to ring her tomorrow, although it might not get done, with all the medical appointments to attend to.

 The meal ended up with mixed results.

The ham was a bit pongy when I got it near the mouth, so I threw it away. The pork pie had gone all soft and watery, so I threw it away. Those mini-tomatoes were bitter, but I ate a few of them. The apple slices were dry and bland tasting. The imitation ball-bearing-like constituency, solid-as-a-rock, beetroots were beyond tasteless!

On the plus side, the cheesy potatoes and garden peas with balsamic vinegar were delightful! Overall Flavour-Rating… 3/10, Humph!

I fell asleep after eating what bit I did of the fodder. I’d left the door unlocked in case Josie called. Which as I was waking up, she did, bless her. Josie was returning the plate and cutlery and tray: all washed up for me. I felt well-cheered up when she said how much she’d enjoyed the dinner.

The left earhole has been giving me shooting, stabbing pains all day, and they seemed to be affecting me more frequently now.

The day’s stresses got to me, and all spirit dissipated into the ether. Which was stopping me getting to sleep! I thought I’d mention this to the nurse in the morning, but they will not do anything, other than the usual unctuous, ‘Book an appointment with the Doctor.’ Which can take up to a three-week wait; by then, the stabbing pains may have stopped? Feh!

Other worries floated into the grey-cell area, everything I think. From the EU and Brexit, 1950-60s music, dream analysationing, global warming… Oh dear. What a right, Nebkh!

I ended up watching some Gordon (verbal-ventilator) Ramsay Hells Kitchen programmes. I say viewing, I spent more time nodding-off and washing up than watching. Shlimazel!

 


 

My beloved pets ♥

Monday 5th August 2019

Lao: ວັນຈັນທີ 5 ສິງຫາ 2019

01:50hrs. When I woke up, it felt like the mind had been fretting all night, and was still in the middle of considering, fearing and without a clue of how to solve the problems. The stabbing new ear-ache, computer difficulties, four medical appointments for today, the wee-wee discolouration, samples to be taken with me to the surgery, contraindications in the prescriptions, shopping to get done, will Morrison’s have any special-offer butter on sale yet? I felt so bewildered for a moment or two. Indeed, I am a self-ructabunde, shlimazel!

But, the need for the Porcelain Throne, demolished my self-pitying and gave me an immediate challenge of a different nature. Will I get to the Throne in time?

I fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, horrendously depressing beige-coloured, sometimes working – others not, ramshackle, c1968, rusty, rickety, recliner; Clouting my shin as I did so on the corner of the Ottoman. The ear-ache stabbing pains giving me a savage, unsettling time, too! Notwithstanding, the Throne session, apart from a fair bit of bleeding, was the best one I’ve had in months!

To the kitchen, where I forgot all about the drinking of only cold water instructions on the CDH appointment letter. But I stopped myself just as I was about to take my first sip of the tea! Phew! But it was not easy, resisting the brew! I got the sample-tube out ready for when the next wee-wee arrives.

I got onto updating the blog. After an hour or two, the need for a wee-wee arrived. I got the sample-vial, and managed to get some urine into the tube and sealed, writing the details on it after filling it. The liquid looked a bit cloudy this morning? Back to updating this post.

I nearly forgot about the fasting and went to make a brew, I even got the kettle on and the cornflake box down from the top of the cabinet. But when I saw the vial on the counter, I stopped myself in time. So made do with the spring water bottle. It’s just not the same as a mug of tea, is it? Tsk! And why is it, I always fancy some breakfast, which I rarely have, on a fasting day? Tsk!

I visited the WordPress reader section.

Ablutions performed. Not cuts, not a single one while shaving! Only dropped one thing, the body spray can! No more new bruises from the sock-glide! Expression of Smugness Adopted!

08:00hrs, bin bags put down the chute. Then I readied tackle, paperwork, medical needs, etc. gathered. Off out to Lidl to get the shopping first, then the doctors for the appointments. I took some empty food jars with me, to be placed in the green bin.

An enforced paradigm shift in plans took place:

  • I was going down in the lift when I realised I had not got the camera with me.
  • Back up to the flat and collected the camera.
  • Down in the lift again, and realised I still got the reading glasses on.
  • Back up to the flat and swapped spectacles.
  • Down to take a photograph, and outside to put the glass in the recycling bin. But the camera told me the SD card was in the locked position.
  • A check of it revealed that the locking bit on the card had come off altogether!
  • Back up yet again to the apartment.
  • Got a spare old SD, put it in the Canon.
  • Down at last with hopes of taking a photo.

I was well pee’d off with myself now! My planning time-wise had gone to pot, and I had to get a move-on, so as to be able to get to Lidl to get the fodder, before going to the surgery.

The recycling bags, although not having any food inside, may still tempt the rats to have a bite through to check them out? I wouldn’t have thought so, but people have told me not to put even the recyclable bags out.

I got the brolly up and started on the hobble to the surgery.

The same Mercedes van that has caused Len to come off of his Motability scooter two weeks ago. And everyone to have to go on the road to get by, because it has been parked so far on the pavement, is still in the same spot and position.

I surprised myself with the pace I was travelling. Especially with the brolly in one hand, and trying to control the downhill-hating wheel-wheeler trolley.

By gum, I was moving well!

Up and over the hill, and down into Carrington in what seemed no time.

The rain continued to pour, with the odd heavy spells.

I got into Carrington as the rain was getting more moderate and I went into the Lidl store. I had to get some help in finding the cheesy-cobs input button. I came out £12.87 lighter. With some biscuits, each one a luxury. Contrition-Mode-Adopted! Chocolate shortcake, Speculoos Biscuits, a bag of cheese curls, Yoghourt, and chocolate-covered rice cakes… Self-Condemnation-Moment-Adopted! Lemon mousses, a ready-made BLT sandwich, Mini-cucumbers, Beetroot salad. A beef pie, and the two Cheese Twists.

The rain had gone down to the sprinkling when I left the store, to walk up the hill to the Sherrington Park Surgery.

 Avoiding a Nottingham Pavement Cyclistess en route.

I logged in at the surgery reception, and the city nurse saw me straight away. It took all of five minutes at most. Just questions and answers?

 Back to the waiting area, and I saw a sign about the Cancer checks, this made me remember, I had not yet called or told anyone about my super-cock-up in posting an empty envelope and no samples back to them! I asked the receptionist, who told me to ask the nurse what to do.

I sat down and waited. Nurse Ann commanded me to follow her to the treatment room. Which, naturally, I did!

 She asked about the INR blood taking, and I told her the nurse was calling today at 10:00hrs to take it. “Why! I can take it!” She disappeared and returned to take the blood samples and do the CHD checks and questions. She’d rang whoever, to tell them to cancel the nurse’s visit. This saves us money! I was told. I bravely said to her that there were three other patients she visits in the flats on a Monday, anyway! But she just carried on asking questions. She had taken the blood from the left arm, despite my meek and weakly telling her about the right arm being the usual one. She found the vein and took the blood. She left me with my Peripheral Neuralgia affected shaking right hand, holding the cotton wool in position. We spoke (the questions) topics, included the stroke, the INR Warfarin levels not being good enough, and the Duodenal Ulcer. No mention of the neuralgia, until she asked about any falls, and I told her about the falling over when getting off of the bus in Arnold. “Why?” I told her, and the subject changed to what foods was I eating. I thanked her and departed back to the waiting area. After a while, a receptionist asked why I was waiting there, did the nurse need to see you again. No, I said, I’m waiting for the Stroke rehabilitation nurse to see me. I discovered that she had been cancelled. I thanked the lady and went out into the drizzle, slightly disoriented. Hehe!

As I hobbled up the incline on Mansfield Road, I think I may have met the World Champion Wobbly Pavement Cyclist. Hehe!

Up and over the hill, down into Sherwood.

Another Nottnghamian Pavement cyclist came from behind and received a word or two of condemnation from me, as he flew by and off down the hill!

A little further down the road, I noticed that the Fat Cat diner that had closed over a year ago, had been bought by a company called Tipu Sultan – Majestic Dining had purchased the premises. When I got home later, I looked them up. They have Indian, Afghanistani, Pakistani, Turkish and other such restaurants throughout the Midlands. Google produced some of the food meals one can get at this Indian one.

A little further down the hill, I called in the International Food Store. To have a nosey around in search of some of the lemon cakes. But found none. I did get some lemon biscuits, asparagus, fancy tomatoes, one of each. That cheered the lady on the checkout up a lot, Not! I paid their extortionate prices, thanked her, and out on my way for a hobble up the dreaded Winchester Street Hill, to the flats.

I really did amaze myself at how I kept plodding on, up one of the steepest hills in Nottingham. I had to clean the wheels of the trolley before I could take it indoors, but I’d had taken a kitchen roll with me, for doing the job.

Within minutes of getting in the flat, the rain had cleared, and the sun came through occasionally.

Then the skies became all summery, and things brightened up in the sky.

As I got the nosh started, the feet and legs began to ache something awful. My own fault!

I stripped off down to the PP’s for comfort.

The meal was a good one. BLT sarnie, cheese twists, chips, tomatoes, mini-cucumber, garden peas, and beetroot, followed with a Scicilian lemon mousse.

As I was just about to get up to wash the pots, the door chime rang out. By the time I got stood up, there in my PP’s and nowt else, there stood Obersturmbannfhreress Warden Deana who’d walked in!

The flat below me had got water flooding through from my kitchen! Deana had a look, She found mystery build-up of water underneath the old airer cupboard.

I thought it had at one time been over the dor lip, judging by the marks on the edging?

She asked if I would be in for the rest of the day, in case plumbers need access. I told her I would be. Deana left to investigate another flat on the next floor. (Herbert’s?) I heard nothing from Deana for the rest of the day, but I hope she has got it sorted. It’s worrying having water leaks from where there are no pipes! Ah, the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum. With illusion, delusion, & hallucination, rife!

So, I needed to try and stay awake late again, just if anyone required access.

The afternoon come evening was so bright now after the rain had stopped – after I had just got in the flat earlier! 

Just one more reason for my being such an expert Shlimazel!

The phone burst forth with its red light flashing. I was the Anticoagulation Haemostasis and Deep Vein Thrombosis Unit (what a mouthful, Hehe!), calling. The six-monthly follow-up. She asked if I am still taking the Warfarin later in the day, and I told her I was. She was pleased with how things were going in controlling the INR level. Which confused me, my being informed this was not being controlled, earlier at the surgery? She would call me again in six-months time.

I could stay awake no longer. I checked that no messages had been put through the letterbox about the water leak enigma.

Of course, as usual for recent days, sleep did not come. I thought it would with the walking and getting soaked, both ways to the surgery and up the hill. Tsk!

Inchcock Today. Sunday 4th August 2019: Computer problems – Despair!

My Favourites: Cadbury’s Dairy Milk Neopolitan

Sunday 4th August 2019

Croatian: Nedjelja, 4. Kolovoza 2019. Godine

01:35hrs. Woke up, to find the stomach ache and queasiness still with me. No sooner had I recognised this fact, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Almost spritely, I was out of the £300, second-hand, horrendously beige-coloured, tatty, battered, often not working, c1968, rickety, rusty recliner. Grabbed the stick and made my way, wobbly, to the wet room.

A sharp pain was felt in the lower shin area of the right leg, but this did not stop it from trying to dance a Neuropathic Schuhplattler, as I entered the room! The pain continued. A sort of crampish, dull ache with moments of stinging? But, the dancing was all over in seconds. (Phew!) The evacuation replaced other worries. Gawd blimey, an extremely messy and pongy affair! But, there was no bleeding. An awfully long time and a lot of effort were needed in cleaning the porcelain and myself up afterwards! Tsk! 

I still felt a little unsteady on the pins, and relieving myself, had not eased the innards at all. To the kitchen, and I was amazed to see some handwashing soaking in the bowl. Blown if I can remember doing any! Got the kettle on, and rinsed the t-shirt and socks, got them on the airer.

I pondered on the needs of the day:

  • Josie’s cheesy potato and smoked mackerel meal to prepare for a twelve o’clock delivery.
  • Ready the needs for the surgery tests in the morning. Medication list, a sample of urine.
  • Update the record of my daily-moods for the Doctor S K Raghunathan.
  • Make a note to leave for the Phlebotomy nurse, advising her of my possible delay at the surgery, might make me late getting home. (Oh, dearie me!)
  • Check and take-in, all medical appointments for the week.
  • More Templates, Page-top, and Thoughts graphics need creating.

The Axonotmesis driven right leg began to try doing another Neuropathic Schuhplattler, come, the Stomp, dancing. Again, it gave up after only a minute or so. But it seemed more active this morning. I don’t suppose it will help, but I lathered the leg with the Phorpain Pain Gel, anyway. Then took the morning medications (No need of any Senna or Movicol, judging by the evacuation I’d suffered, I mean taken. Haha!), and made a mug of tea.

I got onto updating the Saturday blog. Not a good day yesterday, I hoped that today would be betterer. It took me only about three hours to complete the diary, and get it posted off to WordPress. The hands and fingers were calm this morning. So progress was good.

For some unrecognised mysterious reason, I seemed to feel (Just a little bit, mind!) somewhat motivated and hopeful this morning? This, despite the dancing leg and rumbling aching innards!

As I went on CorelDraw, to do the needed graphics, the shoulder started its aggressive shuffling, shaking, hutching and quivering movements. This put me in a lower state of contentment straight away. For trying to work on graphics on the art package, is nigh-on impossible with the arm destroying the work in one wild nudge! But, I persisted. (Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, where am I getting this determination from?)

Then, my spirits, sank a little further…

I can see my recent uplift in moral is about to dwindle, plummet, recede further, take a nosedive or die! Grumph!

Really bad now. The sites keep crashing on Firefox, then Firefox itself crashed. Oh, Shit! It did this three times, on the fourth reset, it seems to be working again. I’d hate to loose all the graphic work I’m doing, oh, dear me!

Export Driver failed message.

This could be my last communication with you. All presets on Coreldraw and WordPress have gone back to default!

I shall try to post this blog early, in case it all goes tits-up.

Then try a restart. Fingers crossed…

TTFNski

Inchcockski Today – Sat 3 August 2019: A communicationless day, ending badly. Humph! TTFNski.

Saturday 3rd August 2019

Scots Gaelic: Disathairne 3 Lùnastal 2019

23:30hrs; I woke in need of a wee-wee. The general performance in getting out of the £300, c1968, mind-blowingly crude beige-coloured, rickety recliner, was more comfortable than it has been for months. The ailments must have still been asleep! Haha! So good and pain-free was I, that I didn’t use the stick to get to the grey plastic wee-wee bucket at all!

However, unfortunately, the passing was of the UWBUS (Ultra-Weak-But-Uncontrollable-Sprinkly) version. I think I prefer the power-blast type, at least I know when things are finished. Hence, the first job was to clean and sanitise the bucket and me and change my PP’s. (Disesteem-Mode-Engaged!)

It felt very nippy this morning. The new unwanted kitchen windows were steamed up inside and moist on the outside? I put the dressing gown on.

I moved the hanging handwashing to the stand-up airer.

Then the need for another wee-wee arrived. Aha, I was cunning. I decided to use the sit-upon Throne this time. But things were not the same as the last wee-wee. (I should be so lucky!) This was an ELPSOA (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-Allover) wee-wee. The blast-back soaked things that should not have been soaked! I had to clean up the floor, cabinets, sink and myself! Such was the force of the spraying! How things can change like this, is beyond my understanding? Bending down did me no good, and started Anne Gyna off. Galumph! But, it did make me aware that the stomach had bloated a lot overnight, and had gained a few extra marks. There appear to be some new spots taking hold as well. At the bottom of the heart op scars. It could have been how I was laying in the gungy rusty-recliner, perhaps?

I retrieved the hemadynamometer from the medical drawer and failed three times to get the machine to operate. Got it to go on the fourth attempt, though, and with fair results again too. Sia 142, Dia 72, Pulse 86.

However, the body temperature was still very low, I thought, at 34°c. I must mention this on Monday when I go to the surgery for the annual CHD test, the extra CBC and the Lipid assessment test. A Shame that Lipid can’t be quoted in an acronym form, I could have made a hat-trick there! Hahaha! 

That got me thinking, where the term hat-trick came from. So I looked it up on Google: The term originated in cricket during 1879, where it refers to three wickets taken by a bowler in three consecutive balls, traditionally rewarded with the presentation of a hat. No charge for this information! Financial Donations gladly accepted, though. Hehehe!

I made a start on the updating of the Friday post. It was a long slog, with the finger ends playing up and not recording anything they touched to the brain! Then…

Making progress decelerated even more! The damned operation of updating and getting it posted off to WordPress, took me over five hours! It was daylight by the time I’d completed it! Misty in the distance mind.

Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet then decided it would start to die occasionally on me! Progress fluctuated between a dead stop, and frustratingly sluggish! Ah, it’s weekend again! See how clever I was to spot that? Sad really!

I tried doing a defrag on Norton, they now call it a clean-up apparently. It performed this in about three seconds? Then I tried uploading another photo on WordPress. But no luck, it wouldn’t/didn’t have it. Oh, Globstagglefunk!

I looked up how to do a defrag. Chose all three drive options, including the massive old external Passport drive I use, and it started defragging. The first two drives took all of three seconds to do. The Passport cleaning was about ten minutes. As I recall from years ago, the defragging took ages and yonks?

I tried uploading the photo again. It took it but struggled, and it cost about five minutes to go on.

Hello, the Porcelain Throne beckons. Back in a bit…

Well, that was different, in the extreme! The first shock that tool some comprehending was the lack of pain. Then the softness. Then the flow stopping with what was obviously a lot more to come yet? I expect to be trotting back to the Throne again soon.

Washing my hands after the evacuation of sorts, and the right arm had a mini-session of directing an orchestra! It was over within 30 seconds and back to normal as it can be. But I still had to dry the floor and my torso and legs of the splashed water from the sink. Ah, well!

I was doing alright, really. With the computer, Virgin Media Internet, no one to socialise with, the leg and arm playing up, and the Throne changes; I feel I’m doing satisfactorily in the megrims and endogenous depression departments. I hope the computer problems don’t get too much and beyond me, that would do me no good!

 I was doing well with the aberrancies, instabilities, Whoopsiedangleplops, annoyances and vagaries of the day, I thought.

Then, out of the blue, came an alarming weariness and a general, but definite disequilibriumness. A vertiginousness, a wooziness, that took over the body and mind. I don’t mind telling you, it shook me up, coming on so suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye.

I sat still in the chair for ten minutes to recover, but this didn’t work. I assumed lack of food for so long might be part of the cause, and got the fodder cooked prepared and served up. (Bulimia?)

I made the easiest to cook meal that I could. The vegetarian chilli, and heated the last sourdough bread. Another worrying factor to consider, was, is my abstemiousness for food on the wane?

Half-way through the nosh, I had to go to the Porcelain Throne. A failure, though, all wind. Washed and returned to the meal, the, oh, so too big a bowl of, of Soulful pulled jackfruit, smokey BBQ chilli with beans. ‘A scrumptious chunky chilli with chipotle and pumpkin seeds’ – with the black bean sauce and orange tomatoes that I had added to it. Could this be comfort eating?

I finished the, to me, delectable, delicious, dinner. After I’d washed the pots and took the evening medications, I still felt unsteady, weak, and so tired now.

But sleep refused to come. My mind, sort of went into a lull, pause, or respite mode. I put on the TV, but didn’t even watch it properly, it was just company of sorts, while the mind stewed in turmoil, and the stomach stung, and Anne Gyna stabbed away at me.

I gave up on sleeping. I’ve no idea why, but I got up and went to the balcony, and took a shot of the evening sky through the windows.

The odd tap-tapping noise started again. It might have been pipework perhaps?

Off I trudged to the Porcelain Throne once more. Aha! Movement. Sloppy and messy, a little bleeding, and not a lot of evacuated material this time.

A good wash then did the teggies, and back to the second-hand, £300, c1968, horrendous beige-coloured, tatty, rickety recliner, determined to get some sleep.

Huh! I lay there for over an hour or so before the blessed kip arrived. But during this time, the tummy and Anne Gyna both calmed down.

Zzzz!

Inchcockski Today – Friday 2nd August 2019: Bus to town for a random photographicalisationing session.

Friday 2nd August 2019

Latin: August 2nd Veneris MMXIX

22:15hrs. I gave up trying to get any sleep. I dismounted the £300 second-hand, c1968, sickly-beige, often not working, rickety-recliner, caught my balance, grabbed the stick and off to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-Wee Bucket). I was caught unawares as it turned out to be an LRWS (Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) wee-wee. Trying to work out when, or if, it had stopped, was a risky affair. Hehehe!

To the kitchen with the bucket, for cleaning and disinfecting. Despite the lengthy evacuation, and using the bucket a few times earlier, there was very little content in it.

I was filling the kettle when the leg started to burst into one of its dancing routines. As Tim Price put it: “Come on leggies let’s do the locomotion. Then the hokey pokey, and a one-note samba!” Hehehe! It only lasted a few seconds, a minute at most. But what a pickle I got myself into! An excellent blooming job the water was cold, as it spilt onto the floor, via my legs and the left foot. I grabbed the counter as the stick was going along with the leg, and knocked the medication box onto the floor. Which opened up, and I now have several unusable wet tablets to sort out! It could have been a lot worse!

I cleaned up me, and the kitchen, and sorted some morning tablets out, and took them. Then got the health checks taken. Another good set of results. Although the same as the last three or four days, the body temperature was a bit low at 34°c. I’ll check on the range it should be now, cause I keep forgetting to do it. Back in a bit!

I found it. Google: Adults over age 70. In older adults, the average body temperature is lower than 98.6°F (36.2°C). Well, that’s as clear as mud! Tsk!

I took the tea to the computer to make a start on updating yesterday’s blog. But had to do a volte-face, as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived urgently (I thought). With the Movocol working so well on Thursday and having taken another last night, I thought I’d better not risk any delay! Well fancy-schmancy. Back to rock-hard, reluctant and rather painful mode! When things eventually moved, I was close to calling for help by pressing my wristlet-alarm! I had a proper cleansing and ointmenting session, as things had gotten somewhat imbrued. Another wash-up, and back to the medical drawer. I got a sachet of the Movicol and mixed and downed a cup of it, and took a Senna at the same time. Oh, ‘eck!

I got the hand-washed last night, bamboo socks onto the stand-up airer. I left the t-shirt hanging up.

Back to the computer. A good few photographs to add, which delayed things a little, but the CIDP was all calm, bar the jiggling shoulder. About three and a half hours later, it had been sorted, posted to WordPress… and I needed another Porcelain Throne visitation to be made!

Aha, a much more relaxed affair this time. Mind you, if the last one had not been such agony, I might have thought this one was. Do I make sense there?

The wee-wees had seemingly dried up. I’ve not needed one for four hours now!

I thought I’d check on Morrison’s to see if they have any of the Special Offer butter in stock yet.

No luck, Grumph! Sorry, Jenny.

I made plans to go to the City Centre today, to have a photographicalisationing walkabout.

So, I got the ablutionalisation done. No shaving cuts whatsoever, and only two dropsies, one the pain gel tube, the other, the body spray can. Smugness Reigned!

Black bins to the waste chute, all dressed and smelling nice now, Hehe! I got the three-wheeler and set out to the bus stop.

I could see a gang of residents waiting at the bus stop as I walked along Chestnut Way, but didn’t take a picture, as I recognised one of them who doesn’t like to be photographed. Fair enough. I took what I thought was a different angle shot of Winchester Court, and a shot of the front of the new, soon to be occupied, Winwood Court. I may not be a fan of some of the new balconies, windows, heaters, failed intercom system, but I love the colour scheme on both courts.

I had a listen to the others chinwagging for a while. The City-bound L9 arrived, and Marie insisted on my getting on ahead of the others. Guiltily, I did so. But this gesture ensured I got the only semi-comfortable side-saddle seat on the bus. Nice! I got off the bus on Queen Street and walked down to the Slab Square.

The square looked a right mess.

I walked along Long Row and around the back of the council house, then through the famously expensive, abandoned, full-of overpriced rental retailers, closed down shops and customer-free, Arcade Walk.

Photos below, of the amble around the Council House.

As I got to the end of South Parade, a young lady Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist, all but clouted into me, as she went by me far to close for comfort. By the time I’d got the camera out, she had to bt zoom-shotted (I like that phrase? Hehe!) as she continued to threaten other pedestrians. Note the adorable tattoo decorations on the young lady in black, legs!

I turned into Wheeler Gate, and approached the Poundland shop, in search of Pork Farms pork pies, Shebert saucers and to see if they had any fresh bread available. 

The drivers at the taxi rank were chatting away in what I think was Pakistani. 

I got into the store, and made for the fridges and found some Pork Farms pork pies, two went into my basket.

Then, they fell out again, as the CIDN arm did an unstoppable but impressive Nazi salute. The ladies behind me screamed and moved away in haste, and as I late found out, they went to tell a member of staff about my dangerous actions. Oh, dearie me! It is only the third time the arm has ever done this. I then failed to find any sherberts or bread. But, I did get some Orange club biscuits, Cheeslets, Twiglets, a BLT sandwich and a Bar for the social-hour nibble box.

As I went into the self-serve area, a lady came to me and did all the work of putting the stuff through for me. This was when she told me about the two ladies complaining to her about my arm actions and dropping the basket, pies etc. on the floor. Luckily, this kind lady knows of my ‘Issues’ with my right side limbs movements. Several weeks ago, in the same store, the arm did its shooting out and up while I was at the tills then. This is why the lady came to me today, so kindly, to help me. The lady didn’t say what she said to the women. I thanked her for her help, and as I was exiting the shop, the two ladies approached me and asked if I was alright. So whatever the Poundland assistant told them, it had hit home. This restored some faith in humanity in me. I shall inform Poundland by Email, thanking the lady and praising her actions. It’s no good just moaning about things. When they go right, it is nice to be able to thank people properly.

I had a hobble around, taking some photographicalisations, before making my way to the bus stop.

3 / 6

I got to the bus stop on Queen Street, and soon after Marie and Malcolm from Woodthorpe Court joined me. I like the reflectionisationing of Marie in the shining bus stop. It makes it look as if she has two trolleys and had lost weight. Hehehe!

Marie and I were having a chinwag and laugh, but the 11:05hr L9 bus did not arrive! We went a stop down the hill and caught the 40 bus. An even more uncomfortable route than the L9 on this trip. So many hills and speed bumps to go over. As we approached our stop, which was on one of the steeping bus route hills in Nottingham, Marie kindly warned me not to try and get up until the bus had stopped.

All three of us alighted, crossed over sensibly using the little central island, and made our way back to the flats down the hill. Marie and Malcolm gained speed and left me behind. Hehe!

By the time I caught up with them, and only because they had stopped in the lobby for a chinwag with Cyndy, Mo and Doris, I joined in with a hello there! Obviously, Marie and I were either in need of the WC, was hungry, wanted a kip or a mug of tea, so we departed and had a bit of a wait for the elevator to arrive, but had a natter and laugh while we waited. Farewells on the 7th floor, and I was soon back home. Tired, but contended. Some great nattering session enjoyed today, they made me feel almost normal. Haha!

I got the food out of the three-wheeled trolley and onto the counter.

The orange club biscuits that I had bought for nibbles may well end up being for just me. I took two out to have as a dessert with the nosh late. Guilt-Mode dawned!

The meal of the day plans was evident by the purchases. The BLT sarnie and pork pie had some beetroot, cheeses, apple and tomatoes added to them, while the delicious Asda bacon fried chips were cooking, and boy, were they scrumptious! Apart from the Asda cooked beetroots, that were the consistency of an Australian Buloke tree wood, this was an unalloyed, veritable feast!

A deserving, despite the Asda beetroot, a 9.2/10 flavour rating! I ate it slowly, masticating as much as my shortage of teeth would allow me to, every mouthful!

The pot of jelly and custard took me back to my young days, it was unstimulating, wishy-washy, bland and awful! Just like my youthful days were. Thankfully, at the time, I was ignorant of proper food being available. But when Dad sent me out to get the week’s shopping with 2/6d (12.5p), how could I be aware? Haha!

I did the washing up, then got the handwashing done. Leaving it in the bowl to soak overnight.

Thankfully, my plans to watch some TV were destroyed – by the heaven-sent sleep arriving!

Ahh! Zzz!

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