02:20hrs: I woke thinking I’d only just nodded off, to find I’d slept right through for about six hours! I was feeling physically better than last night, thankfully. Mentally, I’ll decide later.
Almost without any rumbling, churning or the usual warning sensations, I had to hastily free my depressingly overweight wobbly-body from the lumpy old recliner. Off to the wet room and the Throne.
“Ah, it was a lot easier this time”. It still hurt, but nothing like yesterdays session. The Sennas have started to do their job at last! Not messy either. The unfortunate side of things was that Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding. Judging by the condition of the PP’s, he’d been leaking for a while. Bit of medicating and cleansing, and off to the kitchen. It’s times like this that the embarrassment of wearing the PP’s disintegrates, temporarily replaced with fulgurate appreciation and a certain chuffedness, that I was wearing them! They saved me an awful lot of bother. Oddly, the aching and churning of the innards started after the evacuation? Mmm?
I got the kettle on and took a couple of photographs from the light & view-blocking unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, can’t get at to clean, with the photo-handicapping wide ledge sticking out, that make me have to take ‘blind’ photographs of below the window. But it doesn’t bother me!
Took the medications, made the Thompsons Punjana brew, and got the computer started. Had wee-wee of the SBTSDWS (Started-Blasting-out-Then-Stopped-Dead-Within-Seconds) variety.
I began to create some much-needed graphics. After ten minutes or so an even more urgent need for the Porcelain Throne Mark 2 arrived. I knocked stuff off of the Ottoman en route, hit my ankle with the stick, all in my haste to get there in time! Which I did, but with only seconds to spare! The evacuation began under control of the innards, all I had to do was suffer the pain and wait. Tsk! So different to the first session; messy, bloody and quicker. The now very sore bottom had Harold’s Haemorrhoids and blood that needed cleaning and medicating. Perhaps the most surprising thing was not the change in the consistency, but the colour of the evacuated product. The first visit, it was almost black, now mustardy coloured? I don’t know which is more bothersome nowadays, my mental or physical quirks? Hehehe!
At least the pins (legs) were looking fine. Which I put down to new Bamboo socks, but I’m not really sure, just glad they are so well.
Ah, the Amazon delivery is due today. I don’t know why I bothered going out, so late as well, on Wednesday, all that hassle! And still, I couldn’t get what I wanted! So I ordered these on the right from Amazon. And they were cheaper than Boots (Olive drops), and I couldn’t find any droppers anywhere in Arnold! And this, after Tim Price had told me how much more accessible, it was to use Amazon.
Incidentally, last week I mentioned Tim in the Inchcock today, but unfathomably wrote Tim Hancock, not Price! Tim Hancock rang a bell, but I could not remember who he was. Well, I’ve remembered! He was the Personnel Manager, at what was in the day, was Carter’s pop factory in Kegworth where I worked, in the ’80s. A grand, fair chap. As is Tim Hancock as well! A connection there, perhaps I can blame that fop my cock-up, or not. Haha!
Back to the computer and started this blog off up to hear, then began to update yesterdays sad diary. There were times when I was a different person yesterday, up and down spiritually so often. Things feel better today. But I still do not feel the need for food? I couldn’t believe it when I did not have a meal last night. Mind you, I wasn’t feeling up to much. Hey-ho!
I got some handwashing done, rung and hung in the kitchen.
Then had a funny-moment to myself. I was suddenly aware that there was something important that needed doing. But could I hell as like remember what it was? No! I had a wander around each room. Hoping for some inspiration as to what it was that was so urgent. Nothing generative come across. I stood near the disliked windows and day dreamed-dreamed. In the past, I have had the odd occasion when by thinking of something else to ferret out something from my memory, has worked. So, I mused over Brexit, how we can save the elephants, why am so unlucky, Nottingham Forests Cloughie years and various other things. However, it was no good. I just hoped that whatever it is, is not too important. But I fear it is!
I got the clothes and warm towel and off to the wet room for the ablutionalisationing session. Not exactly the best, but far from the worst. Most of them, due to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing. Dropsies total (5), Gum nicks from doing the teggies (1), shaving cuts (2, one-bad), soap (Not carbolic today I used the lavender) (2), Freshener spray can (1), cleared the top of the floor cabinet using the towel, and No Sock-Glide injuries! Smug-Mode Engaged!
Then, a first for me I think, coming out I trapped a finger (right hand, off-course) in the door, just as Nicodemus was coming back on-line. The Swine! Could’ve waited a few seconds, didn’t half make me jump! Hehehe!
Apart from a bit pale again, the legs were still looking good!
I got dressed and made up two black bags, and a recycling one then took them to the waste chute room.
Came back, and spotted some marls on the kitchen floor where the bags must have spilt something as I swapped them. So, I got a cloth and using the Flash spray, I got down to clean up the marks. Jehosaphat! I had a job getting back up on my feet afterwards! Pain and an Agrhhallurgha and a few curses were uttered!
On the computer again. Updated this to here, then checked the Amazon deliveries tracker! The dropper bottles wi;; be here by 20:00hrs estimated, and the Olive oil, by 21:00hrs.
I went onto CorelDraw to do page top graphics, I’ve just used the last one on here. Many hours later I’d gt some done, but the weariness was dawning.
Got the nosh cooking, fish and sweet in the oven and mini brown and red tomatoes ready to slice in half.
Turned everything off. And served it up on the tray, then turned on the TV, and Freeview was down. So, I forgot all about the nosh going cold in the kitchen Grumpworthiness! And did a Retune.
When it was done, instead of the usual 240 programmes, I had 82, with channels 21 & 31, my most viewed (well, fell asleep by) ones, missing along with many others!
Thought I must have made some wrong options setting it up, so tried again. Taking my time in which choices I made.
This time a message suggesting that I do a First-Time installation appeared, so I did! ‘No option available for East Midlands this time’.
Getting betterer, I then had 186 channels, but still no 21 or 31, and no BBC1 and others.
Another retune was done, via the updating option. I chose the UK, – England, – East Midlands. And swore under my breathe!
Aha! Gorrit! All back on, but some channels were a bit pixilated.
Then I finally remembered my dinner! It looked alright on the plate, but cold. I didn’t mind the raw peas, fish-sticks, tomatoes, radishes, red onions or beetroot; but the gone cool leeks, mushrooms, peas and smoked haddock was too much to eat!
I did eat some of it, not much mind. The majority of it found its way into the waste bin bag! Sob! I kept the yoghourt and potato cakes to nibble later on and got the pots washed.
Took the medications, and turned back on the computer, to look at the Amazon tracker. Approximately 2 hours, I guessed at and assessed on the graph. Now the problem of NOT falling asleep arose!
I selected programs with sub-titles, 5 USA, to watch some Law & Order episodes. Then I didn’t need the headphones on, so could hear when the Intercom or door chimes were activated. (Cunning plan, eh?) But, the sub-titles were very small, and I could not read them in time. I opted for some documentary stuff on channel 25 to watch.
Despite my best-laid-plans, I did nod-off a few times. Gerumbulations! Each time I woke up from a mini-dose-off, I got up and checked the front door, in case the parcels might have been left.
I reckon I must have dosed a good few times without realising it, for it was getting very late now.
I checked on the tracker again. It said the goods have been delivered! That’s a problem you see, here in the flats. Someone thinking they are being helpful, see a deliveryman-like-looking person with a parcel in their hands and let them in the foyer door. Which means, the intercom (I checked that, ‘No Missed Calls’) is not used, so I am not alerted. The door chimes, if both are pressed, usually I can hear? The solution? Don’t allow deafies to come live in the apartments, especially those who keep dropping off to sleep! Oh, hang on, that’s me! Hahaha!
I checked outside the door, and there were the parcels. Well, it might have taken a few problems and Whoopsiedangleplops, but I think I now have enough ear dosing olive oil, and the means to apply it, to last me for the rest of my life. Be Prepared! And I wasn’t a Boy Scout! Life Boys then Boys Brigade for me, (I liked the uniform and the walking the streets playing the drums!)
Those were the days! It didn’t last though, I got a walk-on part in a play, and knocked a candle over on my exit, and suffered the ignominy of being sacked for the first time! Well, they wouldn’t allow a lit candle as part of the scenery nowadays in kids plays. All signs of my future Whoopsiedangleplops developing! Hahahahaha!
I opened the parcels checks the content, all looked good to me. Placed them in the third-down medicines drawer, and exhausted (mentally).
I got down again in the £300, second-hand, c1968, obnoxiously-yucky beige-coloured recliner.
He did a lot of mugging so I put it in twice (Liar speaking)
Wednesday 4th March 2020
Italiano: Mercoledì 4 Marzo 2020
02:00hrs: Crap night, little sleep. (Again!) Rose from the sickeningly-beige-coloured recliner, fell back down again. Waited, then tried again, okay this time. Fell a smidge on the weak, delicate side? I may have overdone it yesterday. Off for a wee-wee. They were all SSB Short-Sharp-Blasting one’s today and surprisingly pale in colour.
Washed, off to kitchen, medications, made a brew, then another wee-wee. I shan’t mention them again if I can help it.
It was, like the other day, as if something went dark, and the ailments came on at the same time, unbelievable! Saccades-Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, and the occasional intrusion from Anne Gyna, but not a lot. The biggest problem was Nicodemuse’s Neurotransmitters failing. These caused the time for me to update the Tuesday blog, to be eleven hours! So it is very late in the evening now, so I’ll do this blog in brief if you don’t mind. Typing is horrendous, or rather making mistakes typing and having to correct them, Oh, dearie me.
Kept making mugs of tea. Took these shots.
When I eventually got the blog posted, I got some mushrooms and leeks in the crock-pot. Moved the handwashing. Couldn’t do any today, too much and no time anyway.
I had a pot noodle for brekkers, cause the tummy was rumbling, I also took some Senna tablets, I don’t want to go through the same agony again on the Throne.
To the wetroom for the Throne usage. But, no chance, solid as a rock!
I notice that the pins were looking more ashen and bloodless than they have for ages. This did my confidence, no favours. I think I was feeling even more delicate now. If this continues, I may use the wrist alarm. It’s not right! Hehe!
Back on the computer, put some bits on Pinterest. It is getting dark already. Went on the WordPress reader. Then a good while on the TFZer Facebooking.
It is now beyond my usual head-down time. I’ll have to stop everything, so tired and a visit from Dizzy Dennis has just arrived. I’ve had the noodles, should I bother with a meal, I’m not really hungry.
The innards are churning again, might have to visit the Porcelain again, best to be on the safe side. Concentration shot to pieces as well now. Head aching, shakes, dizzies, weak, tired and weary… Mmm? I do think yesterdays long busy day is the cause, but of course the lack of sleep as well, for the last few days. I can’t catch-up on jobs or sleep – Dunnit sound awful? I’ll shut-up now. Hahaha!
I’ll not have anything to eat, the innards might not like it, they’ve been treated badly. (A pot noodle? Hehe!)
Going to clear the kitchen, try the loo again, then get my head down before I fall down.
23:25hrs: Up, got my balance and off to the Porcelain Throne. Nothing happened! Plenty of wind escaping, but that was all. To the kitchen to make a brew and take the medications. To the computer to do some graphic page tops to use.
Got them done (Two hours), and started the updating of the Sunday, no, Monday blog. Many wee-wees, (Each one of the SBTSDWS (Started-Blasting-out-Then-Stopped-Dead-Within-Seconds) variety. Much actioning from Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley, and a mood than went from normal to depression over the next few hours. (When I found I was making I.D. mistakes [Saccades Sandra, and the Neuropathy]) in my TFZer graphics, it got me down, and am feeling pretty awful about myself)
I pressed on for even more hours with the updating. Broken by many, many visits to make a brew of tea. If I carry on like this, I may get theism! Not that I’m much bothered. A few photographs took a long time to sort out.
Went on the WordPress Reader. Then comments. Then put some pictures on Pinterest. Next, TFZer Facebooking.
Made a start on this post. Not feeling in the least bit confident and a self-loathing was building up. I was generally emitting a sort of nervous timorousness. Another sudden change, same as yesterday? I’m feeling whacked out, wan, and weary!
Humph!
I got the handwashing going, and left it in softener to soak in while I got the ablutions tended to. As I got in the wet room, another need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.
Well, ‘Butter my butt and call me a biscuit’, I thought things would never move – far worse than yesterday’s effort! The pain was worse, and the commitment physically to get some relief, was extraordinarily worrying! Much bleeding, although I believe it was coming from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which is to be expected with the released content being almost rock-hard, and on the ginormous side! Humphski-phoo!
Finally, I got cleaned up and around to doing the teggies and shaving. The session had not exactly had the least dropsies and injuries! Dropped the toothbrush, then the razors (3), had a decent hard-to-stop-bleeding cut on the side of the head shaving, too!
Was I finished yet? No! During the shower, the flannel (2), the carbolic soap (2) and the shower-head went on the list of dropsies!
I cleaned the shower area, then got my hideously large-stomached dried, medicated certain inner and outer regions. Then freshened things up. Oh, dear! Better add some more to the list. The aftershave bottle, trying to stop the bleeding, the body spray can (2), the Phorpain gel tube, the Corticosteroid cream, Haemorrhoid cream, and the Savlon, they all hit the deck! Grobblecraps!
However, contrastingly, on the other hand, for a nice change, the battle with the Sock-Glide was Accifauxpa and injury-free! Exceeding one’s expectations! Whee-ha! The pins (legs) were in fine shape and colouration I thought. The scratched on the right leg
But I was putting on some thinner and shorter sock, during which the gripper is less dangerous to fingers, but often tears the hosiery, like today! I can’t win! Hoggledruids!
I got dressed in the hopes that the nurse just might come earlier than she said, so I can get out to the shops to buy some olive oil for the ears, anti-Saccades-Sandra eye-drops, and call at the dentist, to rebook again! But no! Of course not! Grumph!
I took the waste bags to the rubbish chute, I think the installation lads are working on a different floor today. I can still hear their drilling and knocking regularly.
I added some leeks to the sliced mushrooms in sea-salt and Balsamic vinegar in the crock-pot.
I got the handwashing rinsed, done, wrung and hung above the sink in the kitchen.
Then I got back on the computer, to make an order for the week after next, for Tuesday 10th March, twixt 06:30 and 07:30hrs. This didn’t take me too long, with no chips, potatoes, biscuits, yoghourts, chocolate etc. on it. Which made me think, (It happens occasionally you know. Hahaha!), I’ll try to get some Cocodamols when I go out, in case I can’t get an appointment with the dentist. Moments later, I realised how late it was, and no signs of the nurse yet. Life can be very meretricious, superficially-unappealing, and pretentious. Minatory insidious, as well! Frogglemoths and Grumpleworthiness!
I thought I’d get the kitchen floor mopped-up, Fool! Halfway-through, I started to clean the electric fire hearth? Plaintively, this showed great personal intrepidity, and also a degree of impetuousness and stupidity! A pity!
The intercom chimed and lit up, it was a Phlebotomy Nurse, finally arriving to take my blood. She came up and got inside. Not seen the lady before, sweet gal, she helped me clear up the kitchen for a moment or two, straightened the carpet for me, and even wiped the hearth clean for me, too, Bless her cotton socks. She’d done it all in four minutes, what would have taken me hours to do! ♥
I had now lost my depressionable feelings altogether, and felt guilty at getting them in the first place!
Despite the time being so late, I decided I’d go out to Arnold in search of the ‘Can’t-Do-Without’ olive oil for the ears. My breaking the bottle that I had in is going to cost me a lot of bother! Frumpworthiness!
I panic-flapped getting things ready in time for the bus, and the usual nowadays, faffling about in my recently acquired anankastic OCD ailment. Double and treble checking things bus-pass, card, money, computer, TV, radio in the wet room, keys, lights, stove, taps (faucets), etc., repeatedly! It’s a miracle I ever got out of the flat! This is so very Agravannoying!
I took some black bags and put them down the chute on the way down. In the Woodthorpe link corridor door window, I espied a chap through the window. It looked like he was driving his possibly petrol-powered ancient four-wheeled disabled person perambulator? He was getting a move on as well, certainly more than the max’ permitted 8 mph. By Gawd, I was jealous! Good for him! Hehehe!
I poddled through swipe-door and along into Winwood Court lobby. I called into the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) interrogation and body-search office. All of the three Warden Scharfhureresses were inside. A rarity indeed! I took the chance to explain how things were going medically and gave them a nibble bag. (consisting mostly of biscuits and sweets I can no longer eat) Had a little natter, and they were getting busy, so I said my farewells and trundled of. Through the Social room and into Winchester Court’s lobby.
I was the only passenger who got on the bus when it arrived! At first, this confused me a little, until I remembered how late in the day it was.
I got the crossword book out, and a few other Nottinghamians got on en route. The bus going around a corner and nearly having me out of the seat woke me with a jolt. There were about eight passengers on the bus, all looking at me, vacantly. The crossword book was on the floor on the other side of the bus, with new mucky shoe imprints on the crumpled torn pages. I must have dropped it as I nodded off and passengers got on or off the bus walking over the book? I left it where it was while the bus was still moving. Then realises we were pulling into Front Street already, so I’d been asleep for a while. Red-faced, I got up and retrieved the puzzle-book with some discomfort and difficulty, and as I fought to get back up, a passenger close to me, smiled and said “Yer a great snorer, mate!”
There was no time to take many photographs. I had a lot of places to visit.
I started off with the Saver shop, who usually sell the Olive Oil wax in tiny squeezable plastic bottles, for about £1.25, which I find invaluable for their ease of applicating, But not today! They had none in stock. (Brexit?) A lady conned me into buying another bottle of oil. What a Schnook. Tsk!
To the Boyed store, who also had none in stock! (Brexit?) Ululations! Not doing very well, am I? I did get a can of shaving foam for a quid, though.
So, it had to be Boots next. Even knowing how expensive they are, I had to have some. A lady tried to sell me a bottle of olive oil. I explained that I had plenty at home, but with my shakes, it is too much of a struggle and mess, I need something that sprays or can be squeezed to apply. She ended up selling me a bottle of Sodium Bicarbonate Ear Drops, that did have a dropper included, but cost £4! At least I’ve got something for tonight and in the morning and week ahead. But, like most of them available (or not, as it seems) are only 10ml in size.
Then I poddled, but hastily, to the Asda (Walmart) store. I had a look through their abjectly tatty, and mostly well-mauled by the Arnoldamians earlier in the day, selection of so-called, fresh vegetables. Their offerings on tomatoes were abysmal, bashed-up and bruised. But they did have some good stuff in the coolers that I grabbed. Red onions, mushrooms, leeks and from the shelves a turnip that was not to faded yet. I paid at the bomb-site looking self-serve tills. And shot out to the bus stop!
I thought, well I’m pretty sure that I took a picture of Front Street while waiting for the bus, I remember not taking to long over focussing it, because the bus was due any minute. But, there was nothing of it on the SD card later? Humph!
I got on the L9, stuck, almost wedged myself in a corner on the side-saddle seat. No crosswording, I was too weary to concentrate. Despite the driver’s imitations of Nigel Mansell and Colin McRae, which actually helped me in a fashion. I fell asleep again! But woke up and managed to get to the flats, with heavy eyelids.
As I got to the lobby doors, the rain began to fall. Perfect timing! I took this shot of the few drops that had hit the trolley basket lid when I got indoors. Some good-luck there! For Gawd’s sake, don’t tell anyone! They wouldn’t believe it anyway! Hehehe!
As I walked through the link-passage through Windwood Court. d
Something felt, not-right, as I hobbled back to 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 eternal cosmic continuum. Its illusions, delusions, abstrusities, problemata, emotions, despair, katzenjammers and emotional-quagmires! Just thought I’d mention it. Then I saw the reason for my uncomfortableness of mind. There were not any bags hanging on the three-wheeler walker guide’s handlebars! Me, going out to shops, and coming back with stuff that all fitted into the trolley bag!
I got inside the flat, and I was taking out the things from the walker-guide, and the landline sounded and flashed. I bumbled my way to answer it before they rang off. I very hard to hear voice waffled on and had to keep asking them to repeat what they were saying. It turned out that it was the chemist gal, the prescriptions were on their way to me. I thanked them and assured their concerns that I would be in.
As I was about to get the purchases put away, I recalled the last prescriptions which were brought to me at the Doctor’s Surgery. I still had a photo of the next date for the delivery of orders.
I got the computer on, to find it and assure myself. Yep, sure enough, the date they gave me was the 9th of March! Today, being the 3rd March, left me a little puzzled. But at least it proves that their arrogance in blaming me for making mistakes over dates this last three-months is wrong and mistaken!
So, their note attached to the parcel of medications this time, advising me of the next date being for the 7th April, probably has no valid expectancy of being right again?
Which will mean more hassle and accusations from the snotty, superior-acting, pharmacist from, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, a few doors away from the Lidl store on the same side of the road! The chemist who left me without medications for five days, and told me I had got the dates wrong! Failed to keep his promise to the nurse, of separating the Furesomide tablets from the blister packs Although four weeks later, he did it! Then delivered February’s blister packs with the top covers lose and all the pills mixed up with each other. I’ll just go and check on this months… hang on, please…
I’m back, sorry to keep you waiting, I dropped some pillboxes: Well fancy that! The pill-blisters are not, I say, Not, all mixed up. Very good! However, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, a few doors away from the Lidl store, on the same side of the road, have done it again. Confused me! Bear in mind, they told me the prescriptions would arrive on the 9th March, and they came on 3rd March. With February 24th being the date on the labels? Is it any wonder I’m losing it?
Oblegrogwumbles!
I got the fodder out alongside the prescriptions and checked them through. The mushrooms have a lot of peat bits on them, but that’s just how Asda (Walmart) are.
Consistently, and contentedly ambling along in blinkers and unkemptitude!
A check of the receipts next. I thought the £4 from Boots for 100ml of ear wax was excessive, but then again it is not what I wanted, pure olive oil, This’s something else.
I looked it up on Mr Google, (Where would I be without him, all those years with my synonymicon Encyclopedia Britannica, and visits to the local library. [Ah, Miss Peabody, how I craved for her, but a ten-year-old after a portly sexpot of a forty-year-old with twinkling eyes, tree-trunk legs, and a big bust, was not to be! Grumph!]) I got carried away there, sorry: Sodium bicarbonate ear drops are used to soften dry or hardened earwax. Use three or four drops twice daily for 3-5 days. Each time you use the drops, allow the solution to remain in your ear for 5-10 minutes. If your symptoms have not improved after five days, make an appointment to see your doctor for further advice. A bit complicated this?
Soften or harden? Erm!
Three or four drops a day? One good dollop of olive oil morning and night usually does me well enough?
Allow the solution to remain in your ear for five or ten minutes? What then? Olive oil just stays in until I put more in next time? No one told me to get it out somehow afterwards? I need guidance here! I’ll back to Dr Google again later.
If your symptoms have not improved after five days, make an appointment to see your doctor for further advice. Blimey, do some Doctors actually give people an appointment in under a fortnight? Stop kidding me!
I’ll look into a solution for this solution, hoping for resolution in the small hours of the morning. I’m too tired now. But still in a cheerful mood, and not letting things get to me. (Notwithstanding, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, of course!
At long last, I got around to making a meal, perhaps creating it as well Various elements of the meal I’d not eaten for many months, I was trying to make a nosh that was not so erm… well, fattening!
Getting it ready, I dropped the pot of Kingfisher Anchovies in Extra Olive Oil. This made me feel pride, worth and admiration at my battle to get the kitchen floor cleaned and mopped earlier. Huh, like hell it did! The pain and discomfort I went through to get it done… Frumpworthy Grobblecurses!
I really was tested to the limit! Argh! Crying was one option, as was jumping off the balcony! But knowing my luck I’d land on someone, so I chose to just whimper a bit. Haha! Cleaning up the calamitous mess, the oil left, put me through so much agony and frustration. Have you ever had to clean up Extra Virgin Olive Oil from the floor, your trousers, socks, feet and kitchen cabinets? And with the attentions of Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley, Duodenal Donald and Arthur Itis, who all came on at the same time? Grumpworthy-Gruelling-Grinding-Garblisations!
Back to the darkness of despondency!
Mr Adamczyk, if I recall the name correctly, wanted me to make a list of things that annoyed (‘Got to me’!) me, that happens to me, and I or the ailments were the cause of, and take it with me to the next appointment. This will have to go on the list. The ever-growing list!
Back to the nosh. (I keep getting side-tracked today!) The overall rating for flavour was 7/10. The mushrooms and leeks were grand! The anchovies had tiny soft bones in them, and not many were nibbled for that reason. The cheap fish sticks were unexpectedly pleasantly tasty! The black tomatoes were the best tasting I’ve ever had. Mmm! The chicken thighs were left alone after one nibble and binned. The beetroot and Marmite cheese disc were fine.
I was soon getting back to myself as I washed the pots, and nearly slipped on a tiny bit of Extra Virgin Olive Oil I’d missed. But I was so weary and tired now, it didn’t get me going or upset me at all? Which surprised me a tad. Especially after the up and down day, I’d had.
The sky view attracted me though, regardless of my more tuckered out body and mind, I had to take some shots of the deep-blue scene. Which I did, but I’d left the SD card in the computer. Inchyangulations!
I got settled in the £300 second-hand, sickenly-beige coloured, c1968 recliner, and my feet on the chair. (This is becausexyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and stole).
An artistic cross had been implanted on my left knee. By the underside of the different tray, that I had used to eat the nosh off of. Hahaha! And I noticed that I had still got the short bamboo socks on! Getting them off was no mean feat!
I put the TCV on, but it wasn’t needed. I fell asleep practically immediately! But only for an hour or so, then I sprang awake wondering where what, who, and when etc., and thinking it was morning!
The jumped again when I saw what I at first thought was the kneecap bleeding! I gathered some concentration, and realised it was the patch off of the blood giving right arm! Oh, what a fool! I put the dressing back in the place where I thought it was and took this photo. In an effort to show my nocturnal idiocy! How it got from arm to leg, is anyone’s guess! I had a little chuckle to myself.
But as for getting back to sleep again, it took hours and hours to do! I got up to put the TV on, knowing that the crap on it often helps me conk and doze off. But, not tonight! The Freeview programs were not available, and I don’t know how to get the ‘normal’ on the TV? Hey-ho!
The thoughts storms came and went. Plans to save post-Brexit Britain were made. I relived some naughty moments from my earlier years (That bit was good but so frustrating!)
I can’t remember if I actually nodded of properly at all.
02:05hrs: I woke and immediately attempted to disentangle my warped, flobby-bellied body, from the c1968, second-hand, £300, rickety recliner to respond to the call to the Porcelain Throne, which was not an easy task! For the limbs were spread about, in positions that I could never physically get them into when conscious. The left leg over the arm of the chair, dangling on the other chair. The right arm bent underneath my body-mass, the torso with the bum, almost off of the cushion. How did I get like this? Noctambulation, or Nocturnal nibbling?
I was puzzled, but still in need of an evacuation. I semi-rolled out of the recliner, gained my balance, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and straight to the wet room. There were no automatic movements, no struggling to force things along, no bleeding, no mess, no undue miasmas, no mass evacuation of wind, and no mess! Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?. It was! All that spoilt things was the agony! Hahaha! I don’t know why I laughed then?
However, the pins were looking good again. The battle-scarred scratches on the right shin from the losing Sock-Glide battle, were healing up already? And itching like buggery!
I pondered over this for a while. The Peripheral Neuropathy, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying nerve ends, may not be sending the message to the brain about any injuries or cuts (So they tell me at the hospital). Or else, is delayed in doing so. So, how come the brain has sent the white blood cells, called a macrophage, (In’t Google good, Hehe!) takes on the role of wound protector to clear the wounds up so quickly? Then again, the blood is not the nerves, so maybe this would account for… Oh, I give up!
I must remember to ring Sister Jane up later. Not too early, though, with her being an alcoholic, she goes out a lot and needs her daily recovery time in bed. Snigger! Jane is usually up by eleven or around there. Not Pete, though, he’s up nice and early, off out to get the papers and check on his bank account and investments at the ATM, and then get some lottery tickets from the newspaper shop as well. With a winning record of over 40%, you can’t blame him. He’s the only bloke I know who makes a profit on the lottery. So it’s just as well he is a born philargyrist. I am awful!
I moved the handwashing that was dry enough to be safe, over the crap, needing Einstein to understand heater in the kitchen. Then got the kettle on. (I good at this. Har-har!)
I got the new Pill-Blister pack out of the medical cupboard, and was so disappointed in what I found!
This pack had even more tablets mixed in different days and stuck, hidden underneath the cellophane, than last weeks did! You’ve got to admit, that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2D, are a cut above other bad chemists, with their consistently uncaring nature, and dedication to crap, life-threatening service. Just thought I’d mention them, in case I forgot to earlier. I’d hate to die through taking the wrong medications, and them to get away scot-free with it!
The biggest shame of it is that they used to be so reliable and trustworthy last year.
At long last, hours after getting up, I got around to doing some graphics, then started to update the Sunday post. All done, but it took me three hours. I went on Comments, then WP reader, ending up doing this blog.
The Ocado order arrived. I put the order in before having diabetes diagnosed, so I ordered some biscuits, lots of them, to make up the minimum order! And some lemon curd yoghourts! Tsk! I’ll give the cookies away so that I won’t be tempted!
Some of the tasty small Notoora black tomatoes looked tempting. I hope to get out to get some fresh veg in, but it’s not looking good, no nurse yet.
The ‘Hum’ and the workers drilling on the floor above is getting to me.
Turned everything off, and got the Ablutions sorted out. What a miracle session! Only one shaving cut and four dropsies. The Sock-Glide battle was a draw! Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bloodless as well!
No nurse has turned up for the blood testing yet!
Sister Jane rang, which was nice, but made it difficult for me to be on the phone, and still hear if the door or intercom chimes. While we were nattering, I thought I heard something, so nipped to check after telling Jane. No one was there. A couple of minutes later, and I listened to the Intercom ringing. I had to tell Jane and ring off; it was someone from the Falls Team arriving. He asked me to do a survey and questionnaire (these seem to be coming in thick and fast!)Tsk! Off he trotted, telling me the paperwork will be posted to me?
I washed the jumper and socks, all done, rung and hung to dry over the sink.
Then it dawned like a light coming on: It’s Monday today, not Tuesday! (I’m quick sometimes, Fool! So no nurse is expected today; What a grade-one twit!
Then took the bags and cardboard out to the waste chute. A worker chap was in the lobby and kindly took them from me. I took a couple of photos of the progress on the works. The previously leaning light is back level on the wall, and the Dri-Riser access point has been revealed.
Back in the flats, popped out again with some no-longer-allowed sweet biscuits, and handed them to one of the worker-lads to hand around his mates. Back in and took another photo from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking kitchen window. The first one was taken about three hours ago.
I set out on my walk down into Sherwood, along Chesnut Walk, down Winchester Street onto Mansfield Road and over to the banks ATM to get some funds.
En route, I took a photo of a broken fence, a fire-engine coming up Winchester Street and a Pavement Cyclist near the main road. I make this written list, for a good reason: I took them all before seeing the message telling me ‘The SD card in this camera is locked’, on the Canon view screen! As memory and logicality-challenged Schmucks go, I must surely be in line for some sort of medal by now?
I withdrew some money and hobbled up to the bus stop to wait for the L9 bus to arrive. I asked a lady who was there before me, if the L9 bus had been yet, please? Oh, dear, the first stare back at me told me to keep my gob shut, which I did!
I heard a klaxon going, and got the camera out, I saw the ambulance coming toward the traffic light junction of Winchester Street – Mansfield Road.
Ambulance approaches
Car turns right in front of ambulance!
Ambulance swerves after miss the care!
That could have been nasty!
A Taxi (Fancy that!) parked near the bus stops and dropped a lady off, who nipped in Abdhul’s food shop, and returned with a bag of what looked like cream cakes? Ah, Gawd, I’ll miss them now! (Jealousy! Caterwauling, Ululations and a temporary Invidious-Mode adopted, Hehehe!)
The blinding sunshine was totally heatless, or so it seemed, anyway. A regular Sherwood pavement cyclist I noticed over the road, had been joined, by a young make oink of a scooter-rider today.
The bus arrived a good fifteen minutes late, but I was glad it had. As the folks from the flats who nipped down on the bus alighted, I greeted each one with something like, ‘Good Morning!’, ‘Ay-up Bill, how you doing?’ and ‘A bit nippy this morning John?’ No replies from anyone.
I got on the bus and stuck into the crossword book. I was doing well as well, for me. Had to put it away in Daybrook, to concentrate more on not falling out of the side-saddle seat at every corner that Stirling Moss took, or when he jammed his anchors on! It became evident that the reason for the bus being late, as they had blocked off a road for Gas Work repairs! That would qualify the driver to be forgiven for his erratic driving.
Spur of the moment job, as the bus turned into Arnold Road, I decided to shop at Sainsbury’s for my fresh food supplies. And boy, did I get some! No expense spared either! I had the Dennis Dizzies as I shopped, but got through to the checkout with the most significant load, but everything I had bought was in date enough to last me the week! Nop excuse for not eating fresh food this week! (Part of the self-imposed ‘Inchcock Instigated Intake Itinerary’ Hehehe! Grated Red Leicester Cheese (For Josie’s potatoes, of course, not for me, oh, No!), Little Gem lettuce, Sugar Snap peas, Anchor butter, Surimi Royale imitation fish and sticks. Italian brown tomatoes Leticia (Gorgeous taste!) Cucumber, Podded Nicaraguan peas, £1.50 for 150g! They did have some of my favourite apples, English Cox’s in, but they were much too large for me. (I opted to try some I’ve not had before, ‘Cameo’ variety). Some radishes. What I found later were superb flavoured leeks. mushrooms, mushrooms, Chantenay carrots, and baby parsnips (These were excellent roasted!)
At the checkout, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed, and I lost my balance and banged my left side ribs against the counter. Leaving me feeling all flustered! Tsk! Then, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Stuttering Stephany joined me, and I made a right mess of things and delayed people behind me. I dropped the cash card, leeks and then the parsnips, and the kind till lady came round and packed the bag for me. There were no words spoken by those people behind me. They were not needed, the stares of derision and contempt were more than sufficient to make me feel awkward and a tad ashamed. I moved away to near the doors, and I had a lean against the wall for a while. To gather my composure. A few minutes later, I felt a lot easier and more balanced and carefully limped out and to the bus stop.
I guessed that the L9 would not be on time with all the roadworks the poor drivers have to put up with. I began to talk with a lady who arrived, and the stuttering was still with me.
Eventually, the bus arrived, and I got settled in the side-saddle seat. But it was a battle to stay in it. Haha! I had a dizzy spell en route, but it didn’t last long, the memories of my performance at the shop tills and the disgust I aroused in people did though.
Back at the flats, I made my way home, with the pain from the ribs increasing. Humph!
I’m not sure what happened for a while after getting into the apartment. But I found myself waking up in the recliner later, the food had been put away, food laid out on the plate on the tray, some parsnips, carrots and sweet potatoes were in the oven cooking, a saucepan with the mushrooms, leeks and garden peas was on the hob… A bloody-good job I woke-up when I did! Phew!
Then I realised why I woke up, the door chime was ringing out its tune, Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫. For once, I was glad that Josie woke me up to return the plate etc. from her Sunday lunch.
I later found these pictures I’d taken of the food I’d bought. But can I remember taking them? No!
Still, they show up the freshness of the products I got, on a Monday, as well!
I checked the food in the oven, carrots, parsnips and sweet potato chips, and was glad to see that I’d sprayed they with olive oil first.
Feeling slightly bemused, or discombobulated by events, I checked things all over for safety. There were no signs of any Whoopsiedangleplops or Accifauxpas that I could see.
Then got the meal served up. This turned out to be a Flavour Rating of 9.25/10 dinner! Not perfect, the sweet potatoes somewhat burnt, but that suited me, they tasted wonderful! The beetroots were well-cooked and soft! The brown tomatoes, peas, mushrooms delightful! The pretend fish and leeks were also lip-smackingly good! And, I think the few anchovies, and the Marmite cheese, rounded things off nicely?
I consumed it slowly, my allotriophagy and pica were satiated! But, I fear I may have over-gormandised a tad? (Guilty-Mode-Engaged!)
The landline flashed, I don’t know how, but I got up and to it in time before it stopped. It was a phlebotomy nurse, telling me she would be with me tomorrow twixt 11:00 and 13:30hrs. A little late for me. (Good job I got out today for the fresh foods!)
I washed the pots and got down in the uncomfortable recliner… Zzzz!
02:15hrs: I woke in a depressional gulley, and felt awfully low. Why? I don’t know! I laid there a while, not moving, and hardly interested being bothered to breathe, let alone getting up and doing anything!
My thanks now, to the howling ‘Hum’. For taking my attention away from the morass of melancholy, I was in. The instant I silently spat out my hatred for the ever-present, mindnumbing humming noise, everything started to get back to normal. The whole episode only last a couple of minutes or so?
I was out of the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige coloured, c1968, rickety-recliner in no time. Well, pretty quickly for me, and with little aching or pains from any ailments either! Oh, yes!
As I was catching my balance, stick in hand, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. A damned fine session today. No bleeding from anywhere, not too messy and I didn’t drop or knock anything over! Fair enough, I did stub my toe against the shower chair, but it was the right foot, and thanks to Nicodemus Neurotransmitters being on strike at that moment, there was hardly any pain! Hehehe! I shouldn’t laugh, when they start working again, the belated message will be sent to the brain (No wonder I get confused!), and the twinges will be felt then. Grubbulisations!
To the kitchen, to find that I had not taken last nights medications! Woe is me! I had to guess at which tablets were the Furesomide, Beta-blockers and Codeines. This is thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, who seem to have it in for me this year! They failed as promised to take out the Furesomide from the blister-packs, Twice! Then left me for five-days without any painkillers or Bisoprolol 10mg (Beta-blockers). This month, their blister packs came undone, and all the unidentifiable tablets have got mixed up! For anyone not wishing to be killed by this pharmacy; the photo above on the right indicates what is to be avoided. By anyone wanting to stay alive. Just another reminder: Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA.
As I was setting up CorelDraw to make some graphics for the page tops, Toothache Tim and Anne Gyna both kicked off. (I thought things were going wellish?) Throughout the next three hours or so, I kept making cups of tea and letting them get cold, in my vigorous attempts at getting the graphicalisationing done. Tsk!
The wind didn’t seem so strong this morning, but when I opened the window to take a photo, it soon got closed again! Brrr! Blimey, it was cold. As the sunshine seemed to get stronger and came out brighter, I swear it got even colder, not warmer! No view shot was taken!
As I turned, there was a click, followed by Back-Pain-Brenda bitterly biting bother! Argh! I took some painkillers, bringing out the big boy Co-codamol and a Codeine.
Realised how late it was, so turned everything off, and went to get the ablutions tended to.
I got some of Josie’s dinner cooking, and the landline flashed and rang. It was Sister Jane. I’m afraid I could not hear everything she was saying, she was talking as fast as our Auntie Bobbie. (Hehe!) But, my being not log out of the showering session, I did not have my hearing aids in. I must ring her back! (I forgot when I fell asleep later, Oh, dearie me, in trouble again methinks!)
The dropsies were galore today. Toothbrush (2), toothpaste, shaving foam, razors (2), mouthwash (broke plastic bottle), carbolic soap, flannel, shower-head, towel (3), jammie bottoms, socks… on and on! The usual Sock-Glide brouhaha, battle and bruises were avoided, by my not putting any socks on (Cunning Plan!).
When I came out of the wet room, things were very blue! Not the naughty language type (Hehe!) but the colour blue. The Hue!
I took these shots from left to right. Amazing, how quickly the dank, drizzly sky was when I entered the wet room, now look at it! But despite the cloudless blue sky, it was still so damned cold with the window open!
I got the handwashing done, rung and hung. All over the flat in different rooms, it was hanging.
I got Josie’s nosh all ready and forgot to take a photo of it in my rush to get it to her while still warm. A Special one today, too. The cheesy-mashed potato was the best I have ever made. That was thanks to the coloured extra-strong red cheddar I bought from Fultons. It really was strong, lovely! (Naturally, being Josie’s official Sunday Chef, I had to taste it). With Lurpak butter, sea-salt and some chives, I was proud of it. The tuna flakes in brine had some mayonnaise mixed in it. Tomatoes sliced and sea-salted. The five-bean mix, I made sure was well cooked through, and the last tin of Aldi garden peas was used. Beetroot was sliced for her, and some caramelised onion chutney on the side. A pot of limoncello dessert, and a can of pin Gin & tonic, all on the tray.
I did, in my haste to get it to her, foolishly carried the tray instead of using the wheeled server trolley. But got away with it, despite a couple of wobbles, in which I clouted my elbows. I shan’t risk that again! She seemed glad enough at the look of her meal, we had a few seconds gossip in which I explained that sadly, she may never get such a good cheesy mashed potato again. With me getting it from Fultons, a shop that gets stuff if it is cheap, and often I never see them on sale again. I wished her happy eating, and returned to the flat, all of three paces (Hehehe!)
Josie noticed some letters on my hallway floor and stepped over to pick them up for me, bless her. She put them on the radiator. (Not working)
I got the dreaded job of the washing up done first. Gawd, cleaning the cheesy-mash off of the cutlery, is the hardest job on a Sunday! Then as I started to get my nosh on the go, a twinge of sadness overcame me, when I realised that my days of cheesy potatoes on my plate are numbered! (Diabetes!) I did, of course, have to try the potatoes after mixing, as part of my part-time chefs’ job (Haha!) Two overloaded filthy-great serving spoons full! It tasted gorgeous!
Then as I was getting my nosh prepared, (Braised beef in onion sauce, cook-in-the-bag) a moment of uncertainty arose. Had I locked the front door, I sometimes do, as getting into the habit of never locking it while I’m inside, so the paramedics can gain entry, is still hard to remember not to do… Does that sound right? I went to check, finding the door unlocked. Then saw letters on the heatless heater.
I opened them in trepidation. The first was obviously the test results of last Monday’s INR blood taking. Took their time getting it back to me, didn’t they? It must have been delivered on Saturday, five days later, and the dosages had changed because the reading was down to 1.7 INR, and I have been taking the wrong amounts for five days! Inchyangulations!
The other two were both from Ingeus diabetes people. A letter outlining the procedures for the sessions. And again, telling me to ring then if I want to proceed, on a Birmingham telephone number. Which is not available on a weekend, but Mon to Frid 0800 > 20hrs. Along with an eleven-page questionnaire for me to fill in. Something tells me these courses are not going to go well! Not my EQ, I might add, just a feeling. It appears that the courses are for different times than the man with the undecipherable voice told me. Once a week for four weeks, then I might get invited back for once-a-month follow-up sessions for nine months. It said in the letter in bold print: “8 out of 10 people who turn up once complete the first part of the programme” I’m not sure what this intimidatory, subliminal message implies?
Many years ago, when suffering one of my many redundancies, and claiming benefit, I went on an Ingeus Training Course in Nottingham, on Maid Marion Way. It was delivered in an automaton, emotionless, empathyless style as I recall. Obviously, the company has conned the NHS (or back-handed someone) to get the contract.
I pressed on making the meal. I moved the five-beans, baked (burnt) parsnips, potatoes and garden peas into one saucepan, flavoured with black bean sauce.
Got them all drained and added to the braised beef in onion gravy. I certainly filled the bowl!
I got the meal into the front room, put it down, and the telephone chirped and flashed! It was the Amazon delivery. (Don’t I have a lot of bad timing lately? Humph!)
I thanked the young man, wished him well, and hobbled hastily back to the room, and placed the collapsable walking stick and Picker-Upperer on the flat airer. I’ll check them out later in the morning.
As you can see above right, my meal on the plate on the chair in the background was awaiting my attention! Tsk!
I got down and tucked into it, with my feet up on a chair, the TV on with Hetty Wainthrope showing, and proceeded to dribble gravy onion down my chin, chest, and belly. Yes, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure was back again! I just carried on, nowt else to be done. By gum, I enjoyed this nosh! A flavour Rating of 9.2/10!
Then, after giving things time to digest, while I watched to the end of the Hetty programme, and it was off to do even more washing up! But my meal’s muck was so much easier to get cleaned.
The usual weariness dawned, but the sleep once again refused to come for yonks!
01:10hrs: Once again, the sleep came in sessions of a few minutes, struggling to get back to kip, and waking-up again. I’m getting fed up with this. So very Agravannoying! I gave up trying to sleep, and rose from the second-hand, £300 recliner, that Brother-in-law Pete broke while he was flat sitting and stealing my valuables and cash. A rarity of late, a wee-wee was needed. So, I got the stick, caught my balance and hobbled quite quickly to the wet room. I noticed that the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had not been used yestereve again.
In the wetroom, things got a bit messy. As I whipped down the PP’s, I felt the congealed blood pull away from Little Inchies lesion, causing a spurting of the red stuff and an “Ooyee!” from me, as I took the pee! The wee-wee was another surprise, it was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) variety. So different from the last two days weak unwilling, rare trickles.
The cleaning up took a while. As for stopping the leak, that was a masterpiece of cunning on my behalf. (Heads sways with pride!) I had, for the first time in months, had to apply a pad with the Corticosteroid cream, and the last Alginate dressing around it. I thought I might take an extra painkiller when I take the medications, as things were stinging a bit and tender to any touch. But the bulge now in the PPs was something to look at and dream. Hehehehe!
Thank heavens I had the PP’s on, they saved a lot of extra mess to clean up. I got things wiped and finished the medicating, finding that Harolds Haemorrhoids were also bleeding a tad, so washed and Germoloid creamed that area as well. Then got a new pair of PPs on, and gingerly hobbled out to the kitchen. Boy, I smelt like a dispensary! Ah, well!
I got the kettle on and took a snap out of the kitchen window. It was possibly the worst photograph I’ve done in weeks. I wasn’t aware of any shaking, but obviously, there must have been? These mini-shakes often fool me, thanks to the Peripheral Neuropathy I reckon.
As I turned after closing the window, Back-Pain-Brenda gave me one heck of a stab, and she settled down to stay with me, showing her affection frequently. I thought I’d better take the medications now. I got some extra Codeine 30g and tool one with the morning doses.
The stinging from Little Inchies fungal lesion as easing off, at least. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and decided to move the trousers and other handwashing from yesterday, near the heater now they were only damp, they would not leak onto the wall heater.
Rumbling and grumbling erupted from the innards. Back to the wet room, I trudged, in haste, just in case, things started off of their own accord again. Nope! In fact, it was another windy false alarm! I got a few crossword clues while sat waiting to see if any movements may develop. Nope!
I checked out Little Inchies Fungal lesion, and I was so pleased to see things had not restarted bleeding. I removed the Alginate dressing, (There went my pretending to be well-endowed!)
Then checked on the condition of the pins. Not bad at all! Yahoo!
Back to the near cold tea, and started to do some work on the CorelDraw, to make a page top graphic. This took me over an hour, which was too long. I must think about this graphicationalisationing lark, enjoyable to me as it is doing them, I can no longer cope with them. After which I started on the updating of the Thursday blog.
I was doing so really well, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, but Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley and Back-Pain-Brenda both had a ball, giving me hassle!
After finishing and posting the diary, I made a note on the calendar to remind myself to get some new Alginate dressings. The calendar looked very sparse compared to how it usually does. Of course, this sent me into a mini-panic mode! Had I missed something off? Oh, Frecklin-faltering-furious-fermenting-flapping & fear of failure!
Went on the WordPress Reader, then read some comments. Well, the one! The drilling and banging continued, but it can’t be avoided, at least I’m getting out for a while to ease the headache. Haha!
Ablutions time dawned. A few dropsies, but far less than normal. A short Dizzy Dennis attack when in the shower, it frightened me at first, but it was all over in seconds? Then, I got dried of and lubricated and medicated.
The sock-glide battle, I lost. Nicodemus Nigel caused a few finger trappings, and Shaking Shaun arrived as I was putting the frame back on the chair after use. It fell down along my right leg, starting the Clopidogrel scratches to bleed again. Never mind, it could have been worserer!
I got adorned and well wrapped up. I could see it was really belting down out there. Then carried out my pathetic double and treble checking dorrs, tops, electrics etc. all over the flat. And set out with the black bags for the waste chute. The workmen had to make room for me to get through the lift lobby, and they took the bags from me to put down the chute, bless ’em.
In the elevator down to the ground floor lobby. I hobbled along the link passage into Windwood Court’s lobby and called in the ILC’s Obersturmbannführeress Wardens strip-search and interrogation office, and dropped off the Manner Lemon Wafers for each of them. Then into the Winwood Social Lounge.
I nipped out a door, to take a shot of the flooded bottom field in Woodthorpe Grange Park. I shouldn’t have done that, I got soaking wet! Hehe! Schmuck!
We’ve got Storm Jorge due any day now. As if it wasn’t raining and blowing enough already!
Some other residents arrived while I was outside. Welsh William, who lept an eye on me in case the door swipe would not let me back in, and the bookies dread, Malcolm sat with two other unknown to me tenants, and they had a chinwag while waiting to go out for the bus. I went to join in, but it became apparent that my having to keep moving to avoid Arthur Itis’s knees stiffening, and sadly my Stuttering Stephany affliction, was not appreciated. So, I left them to it and poddled to Winchester Court. Plenty of folk about, but none of them was interested in a chinwag. The thought of going out in the ‘Get-You-Wet’ rain for the bus didn’t encourage any nattering.
I poddled out to the bus shelter, but it was full, so stood in the rain waiting, and Caroline arrived and we had a talk between us. The gal has lost more weight again, she has family problems as well, but she kept herself in good spirits, bless her cotton socks.
Most folks bustled onto the Bestwood bound bus. A few got on the City one, as I did. No one to talk to from my side-saddle seat, so I got the crossword book out for the journey. Not that I solved many clues en route this time.
I got off the bus last on Parliament Street. Just as well I did alight last, I might have got crushed or trampled in the mad rush off of the vehicle!
I was not going to stay out too long, but called at the two shops I intended to. Poundland, and the Bargain Shop. (That was previously called Poundstretcher’s) Had a hobble around town taking photographicalisations and getting wetter all the time. I’m going to do a post about the hobble around, in pictures, so won’t duplicate them all on here. Here’s a few of the trip around getting soaked to the skin. Hahaha! I’ll put them all on the other post when I get it done.
Slab Square
King-Queen Street junction
Trinity Walk Goldsmiths
I tried to get under shelter to take the Slab Square photos. You would not believe how cold the fingers were, and I had just removed the woolly gloves to take this picture of them poor digits.
I had to keep emptying out the rainwater from the basket top tray.
I got to the Queen Street bus stop, and Shirley joined me. We nattered and caught the bus home. She wisely sat at the back of the bus, so, no nattering again. Out came the crossword book, this time with a modicum of success! My pedagogical limitations on other clues were there normal sort of, ‘Blankness’ mode. Many of the unfinished puzzles were tackled again, but my failure caused dysbulia, and I gave up!
As usual, I got off of the bus at Winwood Heights last. The others who got off first were encouraged by the wind and rain to shoot inside rapidly.
Leaving a lonely old Inchcock, with his walker guide and two bags of shopping hanging from the handlebars, to hobble in their wake, into the Winchester Court lobby. As I made my way through the passage and Winwood Social Lounge, I felt a bit of a wanwit, as none of my ‘Good day’s’, ‘Are you keeping well’s’, or ‘Good Afternoons’ was answered by any of the folks in there? I wondered if I had developed B.O., or my flies were undone? Ah, well! I plodded on through the link-walk into Woodthorpe Courts lift lobby. Caught the elevator up to the I2th floor, and exited into the lobby, the busy workmen’s area. I had a bit of a job to get through to the flats. But, got in after a bit of elbow knocking, trolley tipping, and painful clouting of my left knee on the door frame.
Fatigue overcame me almost immediately for some reason. As I was fumbling to get the bought stuff from the bags, I found I was feeling iracundulous with myself? Self-loathing and hatred flowed, and why? I didn’t really know? Had I forgotten something? Mmm? Not happy with this at all. Well, not happy with not knowing why is more to the point.
I put away the bought items from Poundland. Dettol disinfectant, disposable razors, spray bleach, and sliced Wholemeal rolls. Then the Bargain Shop purchasers: The brown extra-large Throw, Woolite Dark, Oxo vegetable cubes, a jar of beetroot, and a pair of scissors.
By then, I was slumping into an unexpected, unaccountable, depression? So very agravannoying, not knowing why!
I decided to get changed into my night attire and have a wash.
As I took off the trousers, I went to empty the pockets, and there were only a few coins in there, yet I was sure I had a pocketful earlier on? Then, I found the hole in the pocket cotton. I also looked around and discovered the odd coin in the hallway, living room and kitchen! Hahaha! I think I may have lost some in town, on the bus, and walking through the link passages as well, cause there was nothing like the number of coins I’d had after paying up at the Poundland shop! I bet I left a trail everywhere I went! I sealed the hole with some Elephant tape, I hope it works. Miffed with myself about that! (Ah, that should have been Gorilla tape by the way)
My mind turned into a ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode! I got the nosh prepared, and thought about doing the handwashing. But the ‘Not-Bothered-Any-More’ mode made me Phwert! and leave it undone. I was a smidge surprised I even bothered making anything to eat!
I nipped into the wet room for a rare-today wee-wee, and one of the most painful ever toe-stubbings against the seat-raiser leg somehow shook me partly-out of the depression. I found myself cringing with pain and laughing at my clumsiness, and inarticulacy at the same time? I washed and as I left the wet room, things were lighter, brighter, less worrying?
Back to the kitchen to get the meal served up. Feeling in much better spirits. Even my dropping one of the wholemeal Dagwood style tomato and ham cobs on the floor didn’t annoy me! Although struggling painfully to get back up from the floor, after retrieving the aforementioned food, rattled me a touch. Humph!
Again, getting to sleep took hours. When I did drop off, I woke an hour or so later, and I’d had the pleasure of a dream. I was flying as Superman would, on a starry night, with a cat, that I believe was Tim ‘Hancock’s ‘Silver’, flying at my side, and talking to me in an American toned voice, maybe we were racing each other somewhere, no more details available in the brain-box, I’m afraid.
00:30hrs: I stirred and passed wind, the gurgling, bubbling and churning from the innards, convinced me to rise and get to the Porcelain Throne with some haste.
As I freed my massively flobby-framed body from the £300, second -hand, c1968, sickeningly-beige coloured recliner and rose onto my feet, it dawned on me: “Aha! The Arthur Itis sharp digging pains from yesterday were no longer there! This is the second time this has happened. Why I have not the foggiest. Same as the first time, I was virtually crippled for a few hours, then it slowly eased off, and things have returned back to normal, still hurting of course, but not debilitating any longer. Oche, I’m baffled!
The visit to the wet room proved a total failure, despite the gurgling from within, and escapages of wind, there was no movement whatsoever. Still, I got a couple of answers on the crossword done. Haha!
And got a shot of the pins. A few new Clopidogrel lesions, the knee-lumps and veins were showing far less, and a lot more colour tone to the skin. I reckon the Bamboo socks are helping things improve. And, I had remembered as ordered, to take the socks off at night for sleeping duties.
Some new lesions that had been bleeding were feeling a little bit tender to the touch. I’ll mention it to Dr Vindla when I get to the surgery.
Ah, well, I anticipate, and my EQ advises me that the test results will be likely to show a new Inchcock ailment.
Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on and sorted out the hanging to dry washing. I did note that the shirts seemed to have regained some of their original colour, (All bar the expensive brown thin one, that changed to green!) which initially baffled me a bit. Then I recalled that I’d used the Woolite liquid I bought so cheaply from the Bargain Shop.
A glance at the bottle labels, and I noted it claimed to Revive Colours of darks. Blimey, a product claim that is true and works! Well, I never! I bet when I can get back to the store to get some more, it’ll have sold out! It’s bound to, my luck ain’t that good! Hahaha!
As I took the tea back to the computer, I saw that I had gained some more bruises on the arm this time. What causes this, which of the ailments are to blame is another mystery 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 Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, illusions, delusions, and hallucinations, rife. Amongst my vague, palaverous, chimerical, inconsequential, torturous fight for existence! Back to the bruising. I looked up what might cause them: Medications that cause easy bruising, include Warfarin, Thrombosis, and Clopidogrel; Huh! I’ve got ’em all! So it should be expected to bruise easily. Which I do. There you are, at last, I’ve found something I’m good at! Gasconade Moment Enjoyed!
I had to try and sort out the broken mixed up medications in the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA supplied blister pack. But I’m not sure that I got it right with the beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate), with the tablets all mixed up in the damaged Pill-pack?
Made a brew, and took some leaflets back to the computer with me. In a vain hope to get some clues as to which tablet is which.
The wee-wees today were all of the annoying, flipping INHBBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Barely-Trickling) mode, and pretty frequent.
The non-activity from the rear-end, might be partly through my having tried the Halloumi Fries, from Iceland last night? They were not cheap at £3 for 190g, but something told me they might taste good, and they did! According to the label, the only content was Halloumi Cheese? I looked it up and found it contains cow’s, goat and sheep’s milk. Originated in Cyprus. I enjoyed the taste, but not enough to pay through the nose for it. So, I shan’t try them again… Unless maybe I find some cheaper to try somewhere other than Iceland.
I got the computer going at last, and did some graphics on CorelDraw for page toppers, then made a start on this blog. Forgetting all about not having updated yesterdays yet. There are times when I worry about myself. Humph!
As I went to get some mushrooms and leeks into the crock-pot ready to put on when I go out later, Toothache Tim and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley both kicked off! I put some light soy sauce and red sea salt in with the food – now all I have to dop is remember to put in on a low-setting, and turn on the pot as I leave the flat. Are you offering any odds on my not forgetting?
I began to update the Inchcock Today for Tuesday. I gorrit done in a rush and tended to the ablutions. Can’t be late for the Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Key Fob updating Wallahs, can I?
I got readied, and double, treble checked the state of the flat, and that I had everything needed, and departed.
I’ll be back much later on… TTFN. I’m back, and it’s tomorrow morning, as I try to catch up with the updating of this blog. (Who said retirement is boring? – Hahaha!)
I set out, intending to drop off the waste bags down the waste chute, but could not get through the workings tools spread in the lobby, to get there. Then I realised I had not got my hearing aids in. Back to the flat to collect them, and when got back to the lobby, the chaps were again working. They kindly took the bags off of me and dealt with them. That was kind of the lads.
Down in the lift and walked along Chestnut Way, no raining, and it didn’t feel too cold, by the time I got to the end of the road and turned down Winchester Street, the pavement was again blocked by vehicles. So, more of the risky, life-threatening as I had to go on the road to get by. Harumph!
Once I got half-way down the main road, I stopped to put my woolly gloves on. My fingers and hands were white, and oh, so cold? Yet the rest of my flobby-bellied, overweight, tubby body, didn’t feel cold at all?
My hobble along Mansfield Road to the surgery was relatively pain-free. No Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, Hernia Henry, Reflux Roger or Toothache Tim bothered me at all. Confusing, but then again, how often does this happen to others as they eventually get an appointment to see their Doctor? Hehe!
I walked along the abandoned, gone-boke shops along Mansfield Road
I avoided the leaking underground sewer pool, near the giant ash-tray, Mansfield Road.
The traffic was struggling.
I got inside and went to reported to the Oberstgruppenführeress receptionist. They are all nice gals really. One of them signalled me to sit down before I could log in, another nice gesture! I got seated, but Arthur Itis was not keen on the idea. I felt a right fool taking so long to just sit down, the looks from the other waiting patients, were varied. I got out the crossword book and was soon deep in concentration, mainly cause I got a couple of answers.
Doctor Vindla came out to collect me, but I didn’t hear her at first, and she made me jump when she tapped me on the shoulder. More odd looks were spotted on the faces of the other patients, as I struggled up on my feet.
I knew from the look on her face, that the test results were not going to be good. I took the opportunity to mention the lesions on the leg. She assured me, despite my telling her I haven’t had a fall in days, and am sure I have not been scratching at the legs (I can’t even reach them to do that! – ah, maybe in my sleep?), that I had been scratching at the legs? She then informed me of the Diabetic ailment I’d acquired. Well, no, not that, but Prediabetic. I was to go and see the nurse, who will go through what needs to be done and take some more blood for further tests. I thanked her and she walked me out to the Nurses treatment room to await being summoned.
I made the mistake of thinking it might take a while and sat down to do the crossword puzzle. But it was only a couple of minutes and the most gorgeous site appeared! ‘Nurse Nichole!’ Wonderful, gladdening and uplifting! I’ve not seen her for months!
In her room, and she was going to take the INR Warfarin blood; until I explained that the beautiful Nurse Christina had taken it yesterday. She then got my permission (and thanks for) to forward my details to the Nottingham City Diabetes Services, who’s service includes: Telephone education, advice and support to both patients and healthcare professionals; emotional and psychological support; structured education programmes (both group and one to one sessions); continuous blood glucose monitoring; foot assessment; care-planning and insulin initiation and management. (I looked that up later) They will contact me to arrange an appointment, and put me on a weekly ‘training’ course, locally, for 19 weeks.
We had a little natter and laugh about other things. And off I poddled, dropping some nibble off at the reception, and out into the cold sunlight.
I limped slowly, deep in thought, then along to the Lidl Store. Not many customers about this morning. I got inside and had a meander around, looking for bargains or some tasty-looking treats. I resisted the temptation of looking at the cream cakes, for those are a definite no-no from now on, I think.
I got to the self-serve checkouts and bought: Puff pastries, caramelised onion chutney, Skipjack tuna in brine, anchovies, parsnips, cooked meats, tomatoes and Amaretti biscuits. The latter being a nibble-pressie for the Sturmscharführeress ILC wardens back at Winwood Heights.
I was not worried about the new ailment and thought of a new name for it. I came up with Diabetic Doreen or hopefully, Prediabetes Petunia! Hehehe! An interesting look-up on Prediabetes: This site gives menus for what you should be eating. A possibility of adiaphorous happenings if I eat any of these! I can see I’ll be popular in the training course. Tsk!
However, it has kale, cauliflower, avocado, broccoli, spinach, brussels sprouts, eggplant, zucchini, or bell peppers on every recipe. All of which I have been told not to eat, due to my varied range of other ailments! Oh, dearie me! Now I’ve depressed myself!
I caught a bus back to Sherwood, and took some shots of the Charity shops on Mansfield Road, there was plenty to choose from.
Oxfam and Mind
Crossed over the road and made my way up to the L9 bus stop. Where I was greatly cheered to see Margaret and Doris amongst others, sat there at the shelter. I mentioned the diagnosis. Someone said: “Your not the luckiest of buggers are you?” Nayer a truer word spoken mate! Margaret, with her deadpan delivery, soon had me laughing as we nattered on. Bless her!
We arrived back at the flats, and I remembered about the key-fob having to be re-set, in the large social room. I thought I’d enter via Winwood Court lobby and drop off the Amaretto nibbles, then walk through to get the fob sorted. As I passed the front of the building, Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and desk-top dancer Julie opened the fire door to remind me to get the key-fob done.
I got in and dropped the biscuits off in the Wardens Interrogation and body-search office, and into the big social room.
The fob was soon done, then I made my way back to the flat through the link-passageway. During which, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley enjoyed herself with a rather intense bit of quagswagging.Not for long, though. I got to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby, and into the cage, and up to the flat, without seeing anyone whatsoever.
The first job, I got some parsnips chopped and in the pan simmering with some sea-salt.
A brief visit from both Shirley and Dennis had me shaking and wobbling a bit, but once again, it was only for a matter of a minute or so.
Put away the purchasers, and I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Then got the nosh served up, washed the pots first, before settling down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, Charity shop-bought, rickety recliner to die! That was a bad misspelling! I meant, to dine! Hahaha!
Note the lack of chips, fries or potatoes on the plate? I’ve got loads of them still in the freezer, though. I hate the thought of giving them away, just in case I weaken at a later date! (Coy cynical laugh) Maybe, perhaps, possibly, if I just have chips or potatoes twice a week? Oh. dear! I’m dithering even more than usual over this! A taste rating of 6.5/10 given for this meal.
I got the TV on, but I nodded off before the programme I wanted to watch came on.
An hour or so later I sprang awake. The dentist, I forgot the Dentist again! Self-loathing, total disgust and despair grew!
I lay there, spitting insults with hatred and venom at myself, for I don’t know how long. Farmisht and ferdrayt at my own stupidity! I genuinely feared for my future saneness, rationality, stability and capableness. The lousy mind-boggling Thought-Storming started. No rest, peace of mind, and no sleep for yonks, either!
01:20hrs: I think I’d woken, fell out of the recliner, got my walking stick, and was on my way to the Porcelain Throne before the brain engaged? There I was, sat on the seat, wondering how I got there?
Yuk! The movement flowed, stutteringly, I think that’s the right word. Being an algophilist, I almost welcomed the otalgia that kicked off in the left earhole! It distracted me from the totally antipodal evacuation I was going through. The Senna (it seemed) was suddenly working, and boy did it! The complete reversal had given me a messy, sticky, pongy and smeared with specks of blood experience. Sounds awful, doesn’t it? The innards churned and ached for the whole lengthy, stop-start process. I actually felt a bit weak when it was all over. No more Sennas or Movicol needed today then! I cleaned up the right extensive mess, on me first, then the porcelain. Medicated certain areas. Changed into new PPs, and noticed the stomach had not calmed down at all. I might be in for another visit shortly, methinks? Huh!
I made my way to the kitchen, got the kettle on, and was reminded of last nights Accifauxpas when I spotted a sole chip that I’d missed in cleaning up the one’s I’d dropped. Courtesy of Dizzy Dennis and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure. Oddly, I felt a little down remembering this incident, why when so many happen, I don’t know? But there you go. I just thought I’d say so. Hoho! (I might be losing it again here?)
Sorting out the medications was a right hit & miss affair. The Pillmate pots. With the come-loose cellophane cover, had all the tablets mixed up in different pots and hidden stuck out of view on the cover! What a pickle I got into trying sort out what’s what.
I still don’t know for certain if I have taken the right tablets or not.
I must remember to thank the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA for their consistent incompetence. Not a bad record these chemists, they have gone downhill this year, at a fast rate of knots.
They failed to leave the Furesomides in the box to save my confusion, with them, the Codeine 30g and the Beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate) all looking the same to me! This, after the nurses and the medicines management lady phoning and telling them of the problem!
Then, they left me with no medications for five days, with their late delivery!
And, they had still not put the Furesomides in a box.
Now, they continue their campaign of ‘Let’s-Let-Down-Inchcock’, by sending the medications in blister-packs that fall apart and mix up all the tablets with each other! However, to be fair, they now have, after only three months, put the Furesomides in a separate box. ( A little, but welcome victory there!)
Did I mention the name of the chemist? Just as a warning for other NHS patients: Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA.
I made a brew and took the gamble of taking the medications.
Then got the computer on, and realised that I had no template for today’s blog made up! Oh, what a right Shlump I am! So, I had to make up a draft, graphics and all. So, I did!
Then made a start on this blog up to here, and then began the updating of the Monday and Special Trip to Nottingham posts.
I had to stop, to get the ablutions done. Not such a good session this time, back to a more blighted, calamitous, accidentalness-prone variety. The dropsies were many and varied, amongst them, the toothbrush and past, the mouthwash bottle, the razors, carbolic soap, the flannel, the towel, the haemorrhoid cream, the olive-oil pot and the deodorant spray. But no complaints or minging from me, I’ve had two decent sessions on the trot after all!
But, as I was stepping out of the wet room, the right knee clicked, and the ensuing pain was terrible. From then on, I had to use two sticks, it was so tender.
I then got the handwashing done. Jammie bottoms, long bamboo socks and a long sleeve t-shirt. They were soon done, rung and hung. I like these new coat hangars, with the non-slip crossbar on them. The right knee was just as bad.
As I was getting back on the computer to do some blogging at last, on today’s post, the intercom sounded and flashed. It was Angel Christina, and the Iceland delivery together. When they arrived and saw me struggling to get about, they both took the groceries into the kitchen for me. Very kind of them!
When I showed Christina the framed photograph of her, she was over-the-moon, and asked if she could buy it from me! Much as I would have loved to oblige her, I really wanted to keep it, so I could glance at it every day and get some pleasure from the sweetness it, and she gave me.
She set about taking my blood. We chatted while she did it, which didn’t take long at all. She said she was off now, and I reminded her that I needed her input, and type in her email address on Google for me, so I could send her the photographs I have of her on file. I opened the Email on the ‘Compose page, and she wrote it in for me. She had to shoot off to her next patient. I thanked her, offered her some Manner lemon wafers, which she bravely refused. Off she went… it was like turning alight off!
I set about checking out the Iceland order. They were short of three tins of Batchelor’s potatoes but sent me one. The pork Shoulder steaks were unavailable. But hey-ho! I got the things put away. I now have the fridge and freezer at full capacity! No room left.
I nipped to the wet room for a wee-wee, and the right knee clicked again, and things are back to how they were earlier, with both knees only slightly painful as when I woke up? Baffling!
I went to make a fresh brew of Glengettie tea. The heatless sunshine was brighter than ever now. So for some reason, I took three pictures from left top right, in an effort to piece them together. My days of taking the proper panoramic shot are over. I just can’t keep the camera still enough nowadays. The effort was not good. I’ll not bother trying again.
Back to the computerisationing. I need to create a couple of page-top graphics to use tomorrow and Thursday, cause the Doctors visit will take too long for me to do them then.
I got one done. Humph!
Food! The craving arrived early today. I had to have the Halloumi Fries that Iceland had delivered, and they would not fit into the freezer (I thought they were fresh ones when I ordered them – such a shock to find me getting confused – Hahaha!)
The Halloumi Fries were expensive at £3, I thought. They were not bad at all. The cheese cob tomato sarnies, caramelised red onion chutney, beetroot, black tomatoes and a Cox’s apple, followed by the Lemon yoghourt, all went down nicely. Flavour rated at 7/10.
Got the pots washed and adjusted the handwashing, it wasn’t drying very quickly today.
Wash and in the recliner, and the ‘Thought-Storming’ began. Most uncomfortable, and it took me ages to get off to kip!
02:00hrs: I rose, got out of the £300, second-hand recliner, caught my balance, and as the need for the Porcelain Throne developed, I realised that Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were all being kind to me! Good Stuff this!
I hobbled straight to
the wet room, with fingers, crossed that some unpainful movement will be passed. It wasn’t! Things felt rock solid again. After a go at crossword book, I realised that things were not about to develop, despite the innards rumbling and tumbling. So, off to the kitchen for tea and medications. It’s a breakfast I’ve become used to now. Haha!
I got the kettle on the boil and started the new blister pack of medications. Oh, dearie me! I could not see any of the Bisoprolol-Fumarate (beta-blockers) in the Monday pouch section? Mmm! I investigated closely and found, as I looked at the bottom of the pack, that many tiny pills had escaped from the pots, into either other tubs out of view, under the cellophane cover that had not been stuck on properly!
So, after taking eight weeks, no, ten, to get help with the problems of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA leaving me without medications for five days, and to change the tablets (Furesomide) back into packs. This is due to having three tablets of a very similar size and all white, in the same pot, I was taking the wrong ones! Still, they initially found a temporary solution to this, by leaving me without any tablets at all, for the five days! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!
Then, after begging help from the Medicine Management Team, The Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital, the Falls Team, the After-Stroke Care Unit, The Haematology Nurses, I can report that nothing changed! Then, I spoke with my Doctor Vindla, and Hey-Presto, the tablets were separated.
This month, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, now I am back to the start again, and having tablets I cannot recognise, as the blister-packs are not assembled correctly. The tablets are getting shared between pots and stuck out of view underneath the top sheet!
If nothing else, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA are persistent and reliable in making cock-ups and putting my life at risk. So, if any Nottinghamians have had enough, and wish to depart the world, try getting your prescriptions from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, they’ll do their best for you! Frogglemoths!
As one age’s and hopes (risibly) for a peaceful life’s end, you can rest fully assured that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, will do their best to destroy your dream. Bless ’em!
Now, this may sound like eristic, choplogic verbiage… that is because it is! Humph!
As I was starting to do the updating for yesterday’s blog, the stomach suddenly gurgled. Off to the Throne again. Much agony was suffered, but at least I’d rid myself of a right dollop! Medicated the bleeding and applied some Care cream.
Back to the computer, and thanks to the ailments kindness, I got it all done and finished on a couple of hours. (A smidge of swankiness overcome me!) I put some bits on Pinterest, then I made up the template for, and started this post.
A few minutes later, it was back to Porcelain Throne visit Mark-3. (Tsk!) What another painfull session, but this time a massive, messy, malodorous affair! More cleaning and medicationalisationing was done.
A go on the TFZer Facebooking next.
Ablutionisationalistic duties next: Astounding! Total dropsies: Three! Honestly! The sock-glide was bit bother-ridden, but no injuries to report. No cuts shaving! And the legs (Sorry for the lousy photo, got the shakes), were looking much better. I think the Bamboo socks are really helping with the Clopidogrel. I can’t believe how well the session went!
I got things ready for the trip to town. (despite the rain falling, Humph!) After much oscillating, shilly-shallying, and treble checking the state of the flat for safely before exiting (and still uncertain), I set out. My hesitancy, indecisiveness, fence-sitting and differing undecidedness, is beginning to annoy me more than ever! My vincibility is too apparent. Help needed! In the lift lobby on my floor, it looked like the workmen were going to do some more noisy work on the floor and wiring. Still, we’ve had about two-years, 4-months and twenty-one days of it, now. Not that I’m counting! Haha!
Down to the ground floor, and though the lovely warmth of the link passage to Winwood Court.
Seeing the rain through the window en route, was a tad demoralising. Haha!
I nipped in to see the wardens in the Iteroggation & Strip-search office. Nibbles left with them, well Lydia, she was on her own in there. Then to Winchester Court lobby, and a few tenants were there in the dry waiting for the bus to arrive, so I joined them. Had a mini-natter with Angela and Penny.
The trip to town is almost a total blank, apart from having a chinwag with Penny en route. (I think) A Dizzy Denis visit cause this spot of amnesia. Tut!
When I got of of the bus and got wet, things got back to normal mind-wise. (Well, as normal as I can expect).
As I hobbled up to the crossing lights, I got a sneer-come-scowl from a Student when he saw me get the camera out. I just threw a glare of contempt back at him!
Then crossed the road and I limped along the very wet and puddled, Glasshouse Street, and on to the Aldi store on Huntingdon Street. Where I spent a lot of cash, buying far too much stuff, as I saw various treats and weakened. Caramelised biscuits, lemon fool desserts, Room sprays, cheese, cobs and tomatoes. As well as the garden peas and Sourdough baguette that I had gone there for in the first place. Sad, innit? The trolley bag was filled, and I had to use a durable bag and hung it on a handlebar of the trolley-guide.
Paid the gal on the till, who was patient with me, and helped pack the bags for me ♥. Out and over the road to the Victoria Centre.
I cut through Old Street and spotted my first bit of Nottinghamian Street Art. A little further along, there were smashed bottles and glasses on the pavement?
I cut through the shopping mall and out onto Mansfield Road. Out into the precipitation again, a chap held the door open for me too. Thank you, mate! Then another bit of happy-making, I saw my first smile of the day! From the gal in this photo at the back. Things were looking up!
I called in the bargain store. Another financially-fatal decision! As if I needed any proof of my equivocational tendencies, I came out with two, I say two different fabric softeners because I couldn’t decide which one to buy! Now that is pitiful! Along with some nougat, sea salt and BBQ seasoning grinders. Out into the rain, and limped through Trinity Square onto Parliament Street, and along to and down Market Street.
At the nearest point to the Student colleges, I noticed the paving slabs, that were replaced a few weeks ago, had already got the artwork of their chewing gum designs.
I took so many photographs, in the morning I made up a post of the visit to the town and posted it separately, to this blog. It has many more snaps on it, and some sadly written odes with each photo. Haha!
Down the hill and through to Wheeler Gate, and into the Poundland shop. Where I came out with even more Caramelised biscuits, fabric softener, cobs and more things that I cannot remember now (I lost the receipt).
Walked around the square, and took some pictures, then up to Queen Street and the bus stop.
Another food delivery Pavement Cyclist, a new one I think, he was checking his phone, presumably on s sat-nav site? And his box was too clean. We have 20 food outlets in Victoria Centre Towers, plus about 15 in the malls. I have passed at least 25 others in town today, how are they all making money?
I was the only person at the bus stop, and the bus arrived on time. Sad, that we are to lose the service on the 1st April, or was it March?
At the next stop, the bus filled up a lot, and Penny was with them. She moved to sit next to me when she saw me. I liked that!
A lovely nattering session all the way home. Most of it was concerning us losing the L9 altogether, and how it will work with 40 bus replacing it. No one knows for sure.
We got inside, and in the link passage, I asked Penny if I could take her photo, for my blog. Penny put on a smile for me, and this is it, open the left.
We pressed on, and Peny got off the elevator, and we exchanged our farewells. I carried on to the 12th-floor, and into the flat’s foyer, and rang Josie’s bells (They can’t touch me for it! Haha!)
Josie saw me struggling to get the trolley in the flat, with all the bags, and came and carried things into the kitchen with me. Bless her! I thanked her profusely.
I was doing well, physically, and put the stuff away. No guilt at getting so much? Which normally would have shown itself?
I got some chips cooking in the oven, got washed and changed ready for settling after eating, and prepared the plate on the tray with many and varied treats for myself.
Then, after I’d started to take the oven chips out… things got into a series of frustrating foul-ups! First, the nerve-ends let me drop the chips on the kitchen floor! This caused some naughty language to be spoken!
And, as it timed and fated, Duodenal Donald, and Anne Gyna both kicked off together! So bad, that I left the chips on the deck, and took a good swig of the pathetically weak Peptic medicine. Then returned to salvage what I could of the chips, and checked them for any muck, putting those that looked clear, back in the oven to rewarm! I was beyond bothering, it annoyed me so much dropping the food!
Eventually, I got the meal served up. Albeit with far fewer chips (Humph!)
An excellent meal. Taste Rating 8/10. Had it not been for the fiasco of my dropping the chips, and the thought if still having to be cleaned up after it, the score may well have been a record. Dangwangles, damn and blast My ailments!
Still, Nurse Christina might be calling tomorrow! Hey-ho!
I cleaned up in the kitchen, then got down in the xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting. When I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
Things were not good pain-wise. Anne and Donald made sure of that.
02:00hrs: Things went like lightning after I woke up, no time for thought-storms or ponderisationing! Woke, wobbled out of the recliner, wee-wee bucket wetted and to the kitchen. Kettle on, and a diversion to the Porcelain Throne.
That’s where things got nasty again! The second I got down. well, as I got down, the movement started. But it was all out of my control again. (I expected this with the blockage last night, Humph!) I was in there for ages before the mass released itself into the bowl, with a thud. The agonistical pain was horrendous! I was convinced that the blood must be flowing, and I might possibly have just split or broken a part of my innards! Relief, the bleeding was minimal, and things seem to be okay. There was an ominous silence from my IQ? Not so the ‘Hum’! Bogglebugs!
Got the kettle on, and made sure I took some Sennas with the medications. With the attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing, I was having trouble opening the packet of Sennas, so got the sharp knife to cut into the foil. T’was not the best Idea! Just a tip here for you, or anyone; Make sure you keep the scissors where you know they will be! Klutz!
I popped back into the wet room to see if I could find the aforementioned scissors. And noticed that I had still not re-attached the curtain rails last hook. dropped the hook, and had to bend down under the sink to retrieve it, Guess what?
I found an old, lost-long-ago (Many months!) aged picker-upperer, behind the floor cabinet! So decided to use this, to try and get the hook back in the hole. I would never use the one that Jenny had given me, in case it got broken as I was balancing on the chair. Wallah! The curtain is back to normal! (Head Swanking!)
I got some graphics done on CorelDraw (two) and started to update the Saturday diary.
Shaking-Shoulder Shirley (Gawd she makes my glenohumeral joint ache!) and Saccades-Sandra both gave me a few moments of hindrances, and it took me yonks to get the job done and posted off. Many hours!
I tackled the ablutions next, I was fairly chuffed when the curtain ring didn’t fall off when I used it. Hehehe! The dropsies were plentiful. But, no shaving cuts! No sock-glide injuries either. Fair enough, I did partly clear the high floor cabinet of medications, but I can’t expect too much, can yers?
I tackled the hand-washing next, and what a feat it was!
Airing things.
Shirts galore!
Wet room!
As I finished spreading the Saturday and this morning’s togs all around the flat, I took a picture of the windows, and just as I was pressing the button on the camera, the lights went out, making me jump a bit. Ah, well! No idea what the problem was, but it flashed back into life in a few seconds? Yet another of 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! Oh, and the damned ‘Hum’ as a permanent resident!
As her personal Sunday Chef, I started to make Josie’s lunch. Cheesy potatoes, pickled gherkins. tomatoes, smoked haddock, tuna in brine with Coronation dressing, cheese and a Limoncello dessert. A can of Jack Daniels & coke, oh, and a bar of chocolate.
I delivered to Josie’s flat. We had a little chinwag and laugh, and I took this photographicalisation.
Then, I returned to tackle the washing up. Them-there cheesy potatoes don’t half stick to the cutlery spoon and fork when you mix them. I knew from experience to leave them to soak for a few hours, in red hot water and washing-up liquid, so I did!
The leftover potatoes, I thought I’d have later. And popped them in the oven to brown off and keep warm. Then, I made up six bags of rubbish and took them to the waste chute.
I put my weekend plan into operation! That was to go to Winwood Court, on the roof and take some pictures.
I got the coat on and set off out of the flat: But didn’t get far. Dizzy Dennis attacked, the head spun, and my balance went a little dodgy, so back to the lift and up to the flat.
Far end of the lift lobby, lights lobsided?
The picturesque access door to the walk through corridor to Winwood Court
Dizzy Dennis: I turned back to the lift lobby...
Into the lift...
Out to the 12th-floor lift lobby. Quaint isn't it?
My end lobby lights
Not the foggiuest idea why I took this one?
6 / 7
It’s just as well that Dizzy Dennis made me return, I’d forgotten about the cheesy potatoes in the oven! Phew, a close call that was!
I got my meal made on a used, about to throw away foil baking tray. (That’ll save on the washing-up, Snigger!
A right mess, another failure! Taste rating 5/10.
I got on with the blog updating, but it was gruelling work. Dizzy, Saccades, and Anne Gyna were all hard at work disorientating me.
As I decided to give up, another urgent call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. It wasn’t as bad as the earlier visit, but it was a close call! I must remember to tell Doctor Vindla about it on Wednesday when I for the results of the tests. I’ve taking Senna for a while now, but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything beneficial?
Got the medications and down in the recliner. Some good stuff to watch on the box, but I watched a YouTube of the Fury v Wilder 2 contest on the computer. Turned off the computer, and got in the recliner again.
The thought-storms started, and sleep was very late coming.
