01:45hrs: I came back to consciousness, still tired. I tried to mentally to sort out the needs of the day. I gave and got up. Out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, caught my balance quickly enough, Arthur Itis in a good mood, no Dennis Dizzies, but the neurotransmitters were a bit naughty, I dropped the walking stick. But the Jenny-supplied picker-upperer was utilised, no problems there. Off to the kitchen, wondering why I had not needed the Porcelain Throne or a wee-wee, on the way.
Took the medications, getting desperately low on them now. Due to the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA failing to deliver any prescriptions. Again!
I got the kettle on and took a photo of the outside view. The wind and rain blew in as I opened the unwanted, disliked, thick-framed, access preventing, light & view-blocking new windows. But not as bad as yesterday, Storm Ciara is still lingering, perhaps with an after-thought to come?
The Hum could be heard, but it was totally different in sound? There was a lightness to it, with I’m sure, what was a whistling noise? For some reason, I remembered that Janet had told me yesterday, that Brother Pete and his family were about two miles away from an enclusion area in Hong Kong and were in good health. Something so reassuring as that, I find incomprehensible that I had forgotten about?
I got the tea and pressed on with the blog, a mammoth task with all the photographs I’d taken yesterday. It was about 05:00hrs before I’d got the post finalised and sent off.
Then went on Pinterest, and TFZ Facebooking. Again the sheer quantity of pictures to go on cost me a lot of time. I was well behind with everything.
A tended to the ablutions next (Still no wee-wees or Porcelain Throne requirements – puzzling me this is!) The dropsies were minimal, only four or so. No shaving cuts! All went very fair! The imperfect old pins (legs) looked a little different today.
As expected, the knees were warped, but Arthur Itis is not bothered, Haha! The varicose and saphenous veins seem to be shy and hiding away? Some new, never seen before blood papules on the lower left leg. And the ankle ulcer on the right pin, looked like it was trying to come back to life, too?
How lucky I am to have ever-evolving legs. I understand that some people don’t have them? It must be terribly dull for them, to have common-no-bother pins? Har-har!
All refreshed now, I got the handwashing sorted out. The jammie bottoms will need a day or two to hang drying, but I can use the airer to hang them on when they get less wetterer. Hehe!
Then there was a need for a little haste. Time was flying, and I wanted to give the ILCs (Warden-Guards) their Monday treats, and get to the bus stop with time to spare, in case there’s a chance of a chinwag for me.
The checking and double-checking of the flat before leaving, was even more perennial and repetitious than usual, even for me. The number of times I checked on the wet room was ridiculous! Eventually, I part-satisfied myself that all was well, and I might, possibly, have got everything I will need with me and set-off.
Took some black bags to the chute on the way. I plodded from the lift to the ILCs Holding Cell and Interrogation office, and dropped off their nibble bag, then to the Winchester Court lobby, and found a few willing conversationalists, Angela, Roy and Christine and son, and the nattering flowed. Which suited me down to the ground. The drizzle started as we went out for the L9 bus. As Christine said: “If yo’ ‘adn’t come, it woont be raining!” A Nottingham born gal for sure! Hahaha! She knows how lucky I am, alright!
A gang of Winwoodonians got on the City-bound bus, then an even bigger gang of us piled into the Bestwood one. All bar Malcolm and I got off in Sherwood, we went on to Arnold. As we approached the dropping off point, I made sure I had my shopping list with me. Not that I ever keep to it!
I called into Chambers Food Hall for a nosey to see what they had been baking and bought some cooked meat. (Not on my shopping list!)
Then, a little further along on Front Street, I went into the Boyes Store. The Germoloid and Germolene creams had gone up in price, Tsk! But the Dettol was reduced, Good! These were on the shopping list!
I paid up, and then I plodded to the Iceland Store, in the hope that they will have some tins of new potatoes with the ring pull openers back in stock. But No! I did get some sliced wholemeal rolls, pork & pickle pork pies, and a boil-in-the-bag Braised steak in onion gravy! All on the list!
I joined the massive queue and paid-up my dues. I already had the trolley-guide bag full, and had used a carrier and carried it on the handlebars, carefully! As I mosied along steadily to the Fulton Food store, for the sterilised milk, I sensed an atmosphere from everyone and mt surroundings. Hard to say what it was… a sort of dejection and, erm, well, something was in the air, and it wasn’t right!
My EQ told me to get a move on. No reason, just be quick and get home? I just felt uncomfortable for some reason?
I got inside the shop and got the sterilised milk. Then another tin of flavoured tuna for Josie. Some red Leicester cheese to make her potatoes with on Sunday, and two for a pound bags of vinegar flavoured nibble-biscuits. Paid the unhappy lady on the till, and got outside, top sort out the three bags, for optimum hassle-free carrying.
I then realised I would be too late to catch the bus home, so had another hour before the next one. I decided to call in the Mobility shop, to see if they had got any long picker-uppers back in stock yet. Nope!
I then, most foolishly, went into the Shoe Zone shop. I came out with a pair of shoes and slippers! Definitely not on my shopping list! What the hell I was doing getting these, when the bags were nearly full already, I don’t know! Klutz!
I then went further into unreality and crossed over the road and went. into Asda (Walmart), telling myself as I hobbled in through the doors, “Don’t get too much, just a Milk Roll loaf and some mushrooms!” I think I knew this would not happen, but was I bothered? Oddly, no!
I got a right battering from other shoppers. I was walked into, had my toes trod on. Trolley charged more than once! It was a battleground! One large lady actually shoulder-charged me out of the way, to get to grab her chosen last pot of yoghourt on the fridge! Another lady moved my wheeler-guide out of her way to get to the bread, and left me without any support for walking! A bit of faith in mankind returned when a chap brought it back for me! I bought some cereal milk, then went mad on the cake & bakery shelves. Lemon Bakewells, lemon curd and Strawberry tarts, Rasberry mini-rolls… I was losing it here! Tomatoes, tinned potatoes, three cans of well over-priced petit pois, more gravy granules, and fresh mushrooms were bought! I still felt no guilt at the time?
I paid at the self-serve tills. There were three members of staff in attendance. I had to admire their obviously well-trained-for excellent ‘How to ignore a customer’ skills. Basically, they just chatted away together, anything could have been happening at the tills, stealing under-charging… and probably was! They were oblivious to all but whatever it was, as they were giggling and chatting about. The broken biscuits, the crushed after-shave box, fag-ends and sweets on the floor, stirred no response from them, it meant nothing to them.
I paid up and somehow got the two big bags, onto handlebars, of the basket and bag filled three-wheeler, and outside so I could do some rearranging to make it easier for me to hobble with the now very heavy and unruly three-wheeler guide. Still, I’ve avoided having a food delivery this week! Never again! Morrisons food delivering again next week!
I was feeling a tad knocked-about and low in spirits as I got to the bus stop. But things soon altered, I came across one of the ladies at the bus stop who loved a laugh and natter! And did, all the way back to the flats. As others got on and off en route, who were also Chinwaggableisationists, the merriment grew. I was almost sorry to get off of the bus when it arrived back at the flats!
The wind was terrible again when I alighted the L9. Brrr! Blowing up something, rain most likely, although snow has been forecast?
As I entered the Winchester Court lobby to go through the link passage, I saw on the floor, a hanky and umbrella! No doubt, or possibly, dropped by someone going to Woodthorpe Court?
I put them on the trolley cage lid and took them with me to drop off in Woodthorpe Court’s lobby, so whoever lost them might see them. I hope they do. I bet they lost the items when manipulating the door into the link passage.
As I plodded through the Winwood Social Area, there were no tellurians in sight anywhere. So I took a snap of one if the Winwood Court Dulux Dogs. Hehehe! I wonder if any have gone missing? I think they area great idea, they cheer up the place a little bit for me.
Still no signs of life in the place. Again, I’ve done well for chinwags and laughs today. I got through to Woodthorpe Court and out the umbrella and hankie on the table and returned to the lift lobby.
As the doors opened, the mess in the cage was worse than it usually is. The workmen doing the fire-sprinklers installation must have been busy Gentlemen today.
With the two shopping bags on the handlebars of the trolley-guide, along with my short, fat, bulbous, overly-stomached wobbly body in there, not a lot of free room was available. Hahaha!
I could see as I struggled out of the lift, the powder had been spread over the 12th-floor blobby, and I made it worse. I tried to clean things up before going into the apartment, but still took debitage in with me on the shoes!
I got the kettle on. Hoovered the hallway, I’d just dirtied, then took the medications while I thought of it. Alarmingly short of medicines now!
On my Wednesday, visit the Doctor, I will have to collect them from the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, who are late delivering them again! I’ll mention this to Dr Vindla. Not that I think she will be bothered much.
January Prescriptions blister-pack label? The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Potential murderers!
The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, has gone from excellent to potential patient killers in the last two months! And, they are still putting the wrong dates on the blister packs, not to mention weeks late delivery and my going without painkillers and beta-blockers amongst other medications for five-days! Are they bothered either? Maybe they are doing it on purpose, in the hope that I’ll snuff-it, and they will not need to do delivery prescriptions then? Or trying to get me to change chemists, to avoid delivering… Oh, I’m fed-up!
The purchases of the day were put away!
The nosh was sorted out, and a grand tasty treat it was! Braised beef in (A lot of ambrosial) onion gravy, with potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas, beef stock, and leeks. With a Flavour-Rating of a worthy 9.20/10!
Even if the washing up took me an aeon to get done. And I managed in my rush to get to the fodder, to spill the washing-up bowl water, with bleach and Fairy liquid in it, over my shirt, trousers and the floor! Grumble-Soddit-Blast!
I suppose the bleach will ruin the trousers and shirt now. Grumph! And the time it took me to clean the mess up, meant the meal was not as hot as it should have been! (But I still enjoyed it).
There were some programs on TV. I wanted to try and stay awake to watch. But, the TV was not picking up any signals at all! Blank screens on every channel!
Is the weather affecting reception?
Have the Fire Sprinkler men cut another cable?
Is the TV set (Like me) on its last legs?
Have the Ghost and Goblins and Aliens from 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, and Whoopsiedangeplop-proffering qualities, having another go at me?
It seems my odd moments of good luck, have definitely died off. At least I don’t have to worry about them anymore!
So, I tried the DVD and started to watch a Steve Coogan film, The Patrol Officer. I managed to stay awake for around twenty-minute, before drifting off. Innit marvellous? I can’t get ant sleep for days on end, then when I want to keep awake, I nod-off! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!
I woke up hours later and boy was it snowing and blowing out there!
There was also ice and snow inside the balcony. The floor planks soaked again. (They can’t last much longer, they are warping already!
When I opened the kitchen window to take the shots from there, the blasted window was caught by the powerful winds… onto the back of my head! Inchyangulations! Now, my mood, so fluctuational during this Monday, changed once again. The good old Pissed-offedness returned! To make it worse, I could not get back to sleep!
01:10hrs: I can’t claim to have woken up this morning cause all I did was repeatedly have a couple of minutes nod-off, woke, mused, and did it again, and again, and aga…, well, you get the picture. Another almost sleepless night! Thus, I am not up to much this morning. Not that I am on many mornings. Haha!
I dismounted the grossly uncomfortable, £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, only Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were any hassle, up to now. No Dizzy Dennis or Duodenal Donald bother.
As I grabbed the stick and gingerly made my way to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), I knocked some stuff off of the Ottoman. The wee-wee was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) standard. But a warm feeling of appreciation for and off Jenny’s perfect saving gift of the picker-upperer blossomed, and after the leak, retrieving the fallen things was easy-peasy!
As I limped to the kitchen, Saccades Sandra played up, and I almost dropped the bucket. But it only lasted a few seconds, thankfully. But losing vision for any length of time is scary! I got the kettle on.
As I bleached and cleaned the GPWWB, I pondered on what I need to tell the Doctor about on Wednesday’s visit to the surgery. The Saccades, the falls, my sleep deprivation, the dizzies, the Warfarin, the memory-loss… so much to remember, I must write it down later. Mustn’t forget the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, who left me with no medications for five days last month! That’ll make her day, and me very popular, I bet! Oh, dearie me!Hehe!
Come think of it, I’ll just check to see how many blisters of tablets are left to use. Back in a bit.
I’m back. Only three days of tablets left in the blister pack!
But just as worrying, on a close look at the label, these tablets, that were delivered five days late by Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, on about 5th February. They have the date of 27/12/2019 printed on the ticket of all four blister-packs!
Am I missing something here? Are Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA losing it as well as me? I’d better start asking around so I can change chemist for getting my prescriptions. See who the others use and what they are like. Although I have heard complaints about Boots and Lloyds locally. Oh, dear, all confused again now, and the day hasn’t started yet – and I have Josie’s meal to sort out…
I’m getting myself in a pickle, a panic-attack? Head is spinning, Anne Gyna suddenly giving me proper gip! Dizzy Dennis and a sort of ‘out-of-it’ sensation for half an hour or so. Sweating. I sat down, and did nothing, apart from fretting and worrying as a thought Storm Ciara began. Yet, for these few minutes of mental confusion, I still heard the Hum.
Then as I was coming back to reality, that’s not the word, but still, the howling winds of the start of storm Ciara reached us, there was an unbelievably loud gale, I thought I’d take a photo, not that you can picture wind, but still, I snapped a shot in Night Landscape mode. It was as if the funny turn had not happened, I felt placidly chirpy in myself! I did struggle when I opened the window, though, took all my limited strength to stop the thing rattling against the inner recess wall.
This decided me, no more external photos to be taken from the window again, at least until Ciara had finished with us.
Now I was perplexed even further. I discovered I’m made the tea and drank it, and the mug was in the washing up bowl? But can’t remember doing so.
Anyway, I made another brew of Glenghettie tea, and it tasted so good. This may have been because I’d just come out of a funny-turn? Dizzy Dennis had cleared, Duodenal Donald got far less bothersome, only Anne Gyna was still at me with venom she’s not used for months. I took the medications. A demand, from the suddenly erupting innards for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised, quickly arrived! I made a wobbly, but hasty rush to the wet room.
Well, this session soon brought my spirits back down! It was horrible, sat there, in agony with trying to pass from the rear, with Anne Gyna stabbing at my torso repeatedly. It was even a longer session than the last one, and positively more painful! Phuff! I got cleaned up and medicated. At least there was only a little blood from Little Inchy and the rear end. Must cling to the good things!
To the accompaniment of Storm Ciara’s gales outside, I got on the computer and sat quietly for a moment reflecting on the day so far. It’s been a cracker up to now. Highs and lows intermingling. I started of on CorelDraw to do a page top graphic for today, Sunday’s blog. It took me far too long, and Anne Gyna was not easing off yet.
I got the graphic done and took one extra ramipril hypertension, capsule. I might ask Dr Vindla is she might again prescribe me some Nitroglycerin, as itcomes as a sublingual tablet to take under the tongue. Although I seem to recollect, there was some reason for her taking me off of them a few years ago?
I needed the graphic for this post, and uploaded it, then started to write the blog, and realised I had not updated yesterdays (Saturdays) yet! Boy, am I in a state today! So, I got on with doing so. Poor old thing, what next to try and test this old befuddled brain of mine?
So I got the post updating done! Then went on the TFZer Facebooking page. Then the WordPress Reader section.
Got the ablutions tended to. So many dropsies, it’s impossible to remember them all. Humph!
I made up and took the five black bags to the rubbish chute.
Then back to get wrapped up, ready to go to the Winwood Court, to take some photographicalisations. The timing should enable me to have an hour or so for the trip, which will mean I can get back in time but may have to rush a bit, to get Josie’s meal cooked in time.
There is a pictorial story of today’s trip to Winwood Court:
Through link corridor
Into the lifts up to therooftop
Winwood, windswept rain soaked roof
From doorway, Woodthorpe Court
For the first time ever, I met someone in the top lounge. A new resident in Winwood and his visiting son. We had a chinwag, it was nice to talk to someone on a Sunday. The lad was playing some Vera Lynne music on the record player, lovely! I went out to take the photos above, but dare not venture too far, or the wind would have had me off the roof!
I came back in, and found I had taken a little longer than planned (Nattering? Hehe!) So I got in the elevator and back down and to Woodthorpe Court, camera at the ready.
Link passage home to Woodthorpe Court
I got to the postage-stamp-sized apartment and spotted the glass bottles I’d meant to take with me. So down again to the recycling bin with them.
Bottles on the walker-guide and out through the lobby doors
Just around the corner, the wind nearly had me over!
The El Greco style handywork of the fire-alarm setting off workers, was natty!
THe luxurious Woodtorpe Court lobby
I got to the lift, and as usual, if I am wanting the elevator on the twelfth floor, both cages will be on the ground floor, visa-versa, and they will be on high levels! Tsk! Every time!
I got in the flat and started on my neighbour’s Sunday meal. The mobile came to life, it was Sister Jane, but the connection was very broken, she could obviously not hear me, cause Jane persisted talking and I could not make out anything she was saying, a moment later, the connection cut out. I’ll rig her back after I’ve delivered Josie’s nosh. I made battered cod, mushrooms, garden peas, tomatoes, Marmite and a Babybell mini cheese, the Coronation Mayonaisse Tuna, and some cheesy-buttery potato mash, I know she likes that the way I do it. Cause she told me so. Haha!
I got it delivered a couple of minutes before midday. With a lemon yoghourt and can of pink gin & tonic for the gal.
I wished her happy eating and back to get the washing up done. All that Red Leicester cheese and Lurpak butter, just don’t want to leave the mixing bowl, fork or spoon, does it! Frogglemoths!
I got on with putting the photographs on this blog. Then as I was putting the braised beef and onion gravy in the pan to cook, Storm Ciara got a bit nastier, and the rain had come through the windows and frames of the new unwanted balcony, the slats were soaked through, and by the time I’d taken these phots’s, I was also soaked through! Cholericalisations!
The wind was making the raindrops ping against the glass, the balcony door was letting in the water too! The chap in the luxury lounge on Winwood Court’s rooftop, told me they expect the rain and windy storm to last for three days? Oh, heck!
After drying myself off, I thought I could smell burning. Panic-Defcon-Two Engaged! I shot into the kitchen, but everything seemed okay, then I realised my Accifauxpa! I’d turned on the wrong hob, and one of the new saucepans, with nothing in it, was emitting a fair amount of steam! I got some water in it and let it cool down. I don’t know yet if the last rites will be needed. Crabs and Grobblecraps – Dangwangling
Dangwangles, damn and blast!
I got the beef cooking in the proper pan this time. Fed-up? Me? I was so tired now, I thought I may have difficulty in keeping awake to eat the ‘feast on a tray!
I’d put of the Sicilian Extra Special West Country yoghourt in a dish to have for afters. Fearing it might be too sweet, but the only way to find out was to eat it. Hehe!
I got my casserole braised beef done. After the meat was cooked, everything else was by then well-overcooked. I hate myself at times! I got it laid out on the tray, and boy the casserole looked good, and it smelt great. This overcooking stuff and it turns out alright seems to suit me down to the ground. It was all delicious!
I wallowed in the flavour and falling asleep was forgotten about while I was eating it, all of it, up! Taste Rating 9.25/10! I even got the gravy right! The dessert was not too sweet at all, tangy, zesty tasting with loads of cream. Mmm!
I got the things in the washing up bowl to soak, took the medications and settled down perched on the second-hand, on-its-last-legs recliner, now in search of some shut-eye!
The imperative of watching some TV was, I thought, guaranteed to send me off into the land of nod. But No! The Freeview had more channels off than on-air; 60% of those still showing were pixelating and with crackling noises, and even the rest of the channels kept going warped on and off! I ended up after a deal of faffing about, with only channels 81 and 47 being watchable. However, at least channel 47 had some Ramsay Nightmare Kitchens for me to view, and these are usually assured of sending me off to kip. But No!
For the door chimes chirped – I thought it might be the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, who left me with no medications for five days last month, actually delivering the medicines on time. Hahaha… what a pratt! I struggled limpingly to the door. It was a bloke asking for Jennifer? I told him the situation, but could not help him with a Jennifer. I wondered if he had got the wrong Court, and he looked bemused. I explained about the confusing set up here that there is Winchester Court at the start of the complex, then the Extra-Care Winwood Court in between Winchester Court and this one at the end, Woodthorpe Court. They are collectively called Winwood Heights! An understanding frown creased his forehead. I think he needed the Extra Care Winwood Court. He thanked me, and off he trudged.
Back to my recliner, to watch some Ramsay rubbish. But No! I was soon off into the blessed slumberland… but not for long!
♫ “I only want to be with you! ♫ Chimed out, repeatedly! I was struggling to get out of the recliner, and it took me ages to get Arthur Itis to free his knees so I could hobble to answer the door. There was no let-up on the ♫ “I only want to be with you! ♫ Chimings. Someone was desperate to wake me up and get a hold of me? Finally, I got to the door. It was Josie, returning the meal tray and things. She handed me a dish of green salad. Bless her, the times I’ve asked her not to call late makes no difference at all. But no animosity was stirred. Like when she forgets to tell me she is going out with her Sister and lets me make a meal for her, then worry about if Josie is inside poorly or not, she had forgotten about my asking her not to call late again.
But hey, how could I take umbrage at this, when I’m not exactly a good rememberer myself, and get just as confused as Josie does? No problem! I was a little irked at being woken up again, mind, but it can’t be helped with us old folk and our mutual forgetfulness, and obliviousness moments.
Back into the recliner. Although, as tired as I was, sleep once more resisted me. Gawd knows when I eventually got into the land of slumber. But I woke up feeling shattered!
01:30hrs: I woke to the blasting noise of the ‘Hum’, involuntarily passed wind, in somehow, with difficulty, hastened bumblingly to the wet room, and the Porcelain Throne. Only barely arriving in time again!
This was one of the more painful varieties of evacuation. Auto-starting and the movement flowed, well crept so slowly and hurtfully, but there was no forcing or stopping it! One had to just sit there writhing in agony until it was over! And believe me, it felt like hours before it did so! Probably just a couple of minutes, though. I go into detail, as a warning to younger folk, get your Pancreas (the whole system really) checked at the first signs of struggling or blood! I didn’t, so more fool me, too late now! But not for you whippersnappers out there! Please!
We Apologise for the interrupted broadcast – Normal Inchcock Service is now Resumed!
Very messy, I needed a lot of cleaning and medication afterwards, but this is all to be expected nowadays. Off to the kitchen, to get the kettle on, important things first. Haha! I took the medications, then made the brew, Glenghettie Gold, an absolutely fantastic first cup of the day brew! I took a snap from the window of the morning view.
On with the updating of the Friday post. All done for 06:00hrs. I made a start on this blog, which took hours to get to this stage. Yes, Saccades Sandra and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were both playing me up. Tsk!
I stopped to have some brekkers. I considered delving into the giant pot of luxury Sicilian Lemon layered yoghourt. (Rich British Cream and a zesty Sicilian lemon compote!) but I resisted this time. Although it was a close call, I almost weakened! (Wish I had, now!)
I opted for some Crunchy Nut flakes instead. I enjoyed them immensely, with no guilt showing up whatsoever! Washed the dish and cutlery, and was feeling tired now. But all my concentration would be needed now!
Then a right big marathon session on the WordPress Reader and the TFZer Facebooking. (In between wee-weeing and making mugs of tea. Har-har!) This took me five hours! Almost time to get my head down!
I had to go on CorelDraw then, to make up some graphic headers to use. More time lost, but I did enjoy doing it. Then went on the TFZer Facebooking. Another pleasurable, but time-consuming exercise! Midway through the graphicationalisationing, I took some shots of the sky, when I went to make a mug of tea.
Back to the computer, but things were not good with SAccades-Sandra. I didn’t lose any vision entirely, like yesterday, but focussing was too much of a hassle. So, I gave up, turned everything off, and checked to see if anything was on the Gogglebox worth watching. And there was!
I got a quick nosh prepared. Got some McCains chips in the oven. Mini pork and pickle pork pies on the plate. Made up some Dagwood style wholemeal roll type sarnies, buttered with sliced tomatoes, and got the chips (fries) added.
Delicious! Wish I put more chips in the oven now. Hehe! A flavour rating of 7.4/10!
I got settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, grotty-gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, rescued from the tip, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. That 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, he erected a drone-landing platform outside and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, for safe-keeping! (I still haven’t got all of the money back yet, eight-months later).
The TV viewing was interrupted severely, by my constant going into either a Thought-Storm, my acquisition of a new to me, ‘Blankness’ where I imagined what could have been, and regretted what had been, or having a few minutes kip very occasionally.
I sort of ended staring blankly at the TV screen, but the brain was not interested, it would sooner drift off into thoughts of failures, mistakes, errors and sillyosities I had committed over the years. Sleep was not an option, and I had no choice but to listen to my own mind, as it waffled on to me…
Horrible, almost sleepless night again.
Help!
Oh, I don’t know though, losing one’s marbles seems to suit me. It’s not as bad as I feared.
01:50hrs: I stumbled into a sort of imitation life, and waited a few seconds for the brain to catch me up. When it did, the short pleasant moments of vagueness and freedom from fears ended. As the cerebrum galvanised into life, the regular first instructions on waking arrived; “You need the Porcelain Throne, now!”
So, I stumbled up out of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with relative ease, fell back down again, had another go at getting on my feet, and all went well this time. Off I gingerly wobbled to the wet room.
Sob!
Passing the picker-upper that I broke yesterday, and making a mental note that I need to get out and buy a new one today! As I limped carefully with the wooden walking stick, I thought to myself: ‘Well at least the brain seems to be working this morning!’ First thoughts and reactions can be very misleading, though. I’ve noticed this before.
The evacuations started then stopped part-way again. I waited for nature and my innards to move things along, cause last time I energetically encouraged activity, the bleeding was terrible. To avoid a repeat, I waited patiently, and in pain, nevertheless, I still fell asleep on the Throne! Harumph! It’s not the first time I’m done it, but I haven’t for a long time now. I even had a dream, that seemed to me so vivid, I got the impression when I woke up, that I’d been dreaming for ages. But the clock told me, I’d only been in the arms of Morpheus for two minutes or so? In the dream, I was in a Courtroom, built from parts of bodies and innards as if I was in a chest or something. I was discussing and arguing with ribs, lungs etc. about why they weren’t sorting out a pact with the Neurotransmitters to get them to work again?
If they would, I offered and promised a bribe of free flowers for life amongst other things that escape me now. Back and forth the arguments went on for ages (in the nightmare), and I ended up being sentenced to life imprisonment without any cheesy potatoes! At this stage, I came back to wakefulness. I was writing down some notes before I forgot everything when I realised that ‘things’ were still half-in half-out! It nowt else, it brought me to life properly. Another few minutes past by and things did flow again and the evacuation was tortuously finished!
Well, two firsts there, dreaming on the toilet, and the most hurtful evacuation ever! I was over-the-moon when I found no bleeding had taken place. Yee-ha!
Washed and cleaned up, and limped to the kitchen. Kettle on then took the medications. Off to the computer to update the Thursday blog. I got it done around 04:00hrs. Had a brew and some bikkies and did some Pinterest uploading, then went on the WordPress reader.
Time to get the ablutions done now. Cause I want to catch the L9 bus at 09:30hrs to Arnold. To get a new picker-upperer. Costing me a fortune these are, Tsk!
Phenomenally few dropsies today. A couple of tiny nicks shaving, it was going smoothly for once. Then as I was medicating certain area in need, and I clouted my elbow on the door edge. Then the door chimes rang-out ♫ I only want to be with you ♫!
As I grabbed the thin dressing gown, I heard Jenny saying something as she let herself in. I hastened to cover my privates, not wanting to Angel to hurt herself laughing, and exited the wet room.
To find that Jenny stood there with a new picker-upper in hand for me to have! (She had read the blog and the picker-upper fiasco, and there she was helping me out again, Bless her cotton socks!) ♥. We chatted a little, and Jenny gave me good advice on certain things, and off she went. I can’t even remember if I thanked her properly, for the Godsent help, for at the end of the day, this tool became so priceless and pain-saving. (Explained later on). I thought I’d get one of the long reach ones today, from the Disability shop in Arnold, that collapse (they break in half when you fall on them, hehe!) and can be taken with me in the trolley guide when I go shopping. This one was perfect for picking up, as I found out when I tried it on a tablet! Smashing, thanks, Jenny, you truly are a comforting, faith-returning Angel! ♥
Back to the wet room, and finished off, got dressed, and ready with a deal of alacrity, to be in time to catch the bus. I took the bags to the waste chute on the way out.
The work taking place, and giving everyone a headache, on the fire sprinklers was showing signs of advancement in the lift lobby.
I walked out onto Chestnut Way to hobble to the bus stop for a change. Where many residents were waiting, Mary, Shirley, Christine, and others, with Malcolm in Newsreader-form. It seems that last night, Winwood Heights had had a fire in one of the flats, and the bloke in flat below, got flooded, he has no power, his cooker, fridge, etcetera are now useless! Carpets destroyed. The discussion that I listened to, was about who does he claim off of, his own insurance, the Fire Department or Nottingham City Homes. By gum, when money is mentioned, the atmosphere got heated! Hehehe!
The sun was bright, but it was bitterly cold, I was glad when the bus arrived. As I got settled in the side-saddle seat, I noticed how white and pale the hands looked? Either the carbolic soap had increased in strength, or I’d died and nobody told me! Hahaha! Colin Cramps started in that hand at the same time. Tsk!
I looked up and noticed how deep in thought, and Russian-Romanian looking, Mary was. I sneaked this surprisingly decent snap of her.
Most folks got off in Sherwood. Margaret and I tried a conversation en route to Arnold, but it was farcical, with us both being on the deaf side.
We dropped off on Front Street. I walked with Mary as far as the Iceland store, and I accidentally bumped my trolley into Mary’s, twice! This did not please the gal, oh, dearie me! Trouble ‘t Mill!
I went into the store and said my farewells to Mary. The damned shop didn’t have any of the tinned new potatoes in stock. Tsk! Worra let down! They did have the pork & pickle pies, Truffle chips and Wholemeal sliced rolls, which I purchased.
Paid, and went to the Mobility shop to get a long reach picker-upperer. So very-most irking. Agravannoying! Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating! They didn’t have any in stock! The lady joyfully told me they will have some in next week. Huh! That was disappointing! It proves the value of befriending Jenny and her wonderful help in donating the picker-upperer earlier. Thus saving me struggling! ♥
Off to the Futltons Food shop. Found another type of Tuna for Josie, and got a bottle of sterilised milk.
Twenty-five minutes before the bus was due, so I nipped across the road to the Asda (Walmart) store. I bought: Gravy granules, lemon yoghourts, including a large pot of Sicilian Lemon Layered type. Bit of a luxury. A can of chilli-con-carne, and mushrooms.
Out in the heatless sunshine onto Front Street and to the bus stop. No signs of Mary? As I stood there waiting, Mary arrived, telling me she was going to Asda and will catch the bus later at the back of the store.
So, I waited and caught the bus and as it went on its circuitous route, the brain seemed to go into one of its vacuous-moments. I may well have fallen asleep, though. Either way, I was shaken out of it, by the driver papping his horn.
A car transporter was blocking the road. Parked right on the corner! The driver radioed in about it. The lorry did not move and the driver of the transporter seemed uninterested. Eventually, the L9’s driver skilfully, but dangerously had to drive on the grass to get us by! Well done, Sir! Mary did not get on the bus in Arnold.
Back at the flats, I had a job getting up on my feet to get of the bus. (Arthur Itis’s knees) The driver was patient with me. Once up and on the move, things improved with the knees, and I took a photo of the Chestnut Tree, on Chestnut Walk outside Winwood Court. The light-giving, but gelid sun seemed to be getting brighter now. I arrived at the Woodthorpe Court entrance and took this shot. I thought at this time, of the fire last night, and the good fortune that it was at nighttime. For sure, the emergency services would have difficulty in finding anywhere to park, not that it would have been easy in the day either really.
I had a visit from Shaking Shaun, that lasted for a few hours, but it wasn’t too severe and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley did not join in.
I got the jammies on, and did the handwashing, while the oven chips cooked. I checked to see if any details of last night’s fire were in the news, but as usual, nothing was mentioned. It wasn’t even on the Fire Brigade’s ‘Incident list’? Although there were four false alarms at the flats on it, three of them from the workmen accidentally setting off the alarm. It doesn’t show much confidence in the Fire Sprinklers reliability when they eventually get finished and working, does it?
I made up some wholemeal rolls, buttered, added cooked slices, and thickly cut black Ibera tomatoes, salted them. Then I added the truffle-chips to the tray. A pot of lemon yoghourt for afters, and got settled in the £300, second-hand recliner to digest the fodder.
Again, the third day on the trot, I got disturbed as I took the first bite! Not the telephone this time, but the door chimes ringing out! I took a while in getting to the door, making sure the food tray was firmly placed so it didn’t fall off of the chair, grabbed the stick and poddled to the door. Nobody was there? Mmm!
Back to the chair, and talk about bad-timing… The autonomic nerves in the hand and fingers failed at the very moment I foolishly used my right hand to pick up the tray of food! I think I retrieved all of the chips, that had spread in the folds of my stomach, the creases in the chair, the carpet and one even fell right into my drink of orange juice on the Ottoman! The search for and cleaning up of the tomatoes, beef, roll crumbs, smudges of butter and yoghourt took me ages!
Picking up and sorting things out, was sop painful! Especially the repeatedly having to get down and back up to clean the butter marks and pressed in crumbs where I’d stood on some. Now I had Anne Gyna and Hernia Henry giving me grief as well! I really felt sorry for myself! Hehehe! Thank the Heavens that Jenny had given me that picker upperer! Her caring actions had saved the day again, for sure! ♥
So, no nosh tonight then! I did have some biscuits to nibble, mindful that Duodenal Donald might kick-off as well if I didn’t eat something. I don’t think I could have coped if he’d joined in with the others at the same time. Then I realised I had not taken the medications, so I did!
I finally got resettled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, horrendously gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, repaired-repeatedly, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
01:55hrs: Cripes, the Hum is intrusive this morning! When I woke and heard the noise, I was confident that something was amiss, surely this can’t be the Hum? I extracted my bulbous, wobbly, stomach-ladened body from the £300 second-hand recliner, and checked around the flat, only to find that the driving-me-mad Hum was indeed causing the noise! Humph!
Still, I’m glad I got up, cause the sudden urgent need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet room I poddled. Taking care to leave the four-pronged stick well away from where I might trip over it, I got seated. This time things were different, back to the half-way and suffer mode of evacuation.
Which gave me time to have a mind-wander. But it wasn’t a pleasant experience, all my faults, worries and problems stormed into the brain, rattled about almost mocking me, and then as the evacuation got a bit more movement and agony replaced the pain, the thoughts left me, thank heavens. Hell of struggle, but I rid myself of the products, a little bleeding, but not messy.
At least Little Inchies fungal lesion was only trickling a few drops. The legs had got more colour and veins showing than yesterday. Arthur Itis’s knees were tight, a sign of suffering to come that is. I got cleaned-up, medicated plenty of the Phorpain gel rubbed into the joints. I’m not sure it actually does any good, but the Doctor says the massaging it in can do no harm.
Then, off to the kitchen. Where I got the kettle on, took the medications, made the tea and took a photographicalisation of the morning view, with the moon on show. Not a bad result, I took it in Night Landscape mode. I’ve put it on large here, not too bad an effort. (He says smugly. Haha!)
To the computer, and set to updating the Wednesday post. Nicodemus Neurotransmitters were not playing up much at all. That was a pleasant divergence from the norm, which I took advantage of, and had got the whole thing finished of (not many photos) in record time before they kicked off again. Also, I struggled to read my own writing. Fleeting Satisfied Mode!
The mist was clearing now. Sent off the blog, then went on the Emails to see what was what. One from the Haemostasis, TV (Thread Vein) and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) Warfarin Anticoagulation Clinic at the Nottingham City Hospital (I do like that mouthful of a title!). From the lady who rang me last night. Her name is Debby. So now, I have the address to use to update her about the Doctors visit. There was no reply to my earlier request for an appointment or any INR results?
So I sent another email and request. Then I checked the progress of the saucepans I’ve got coming today (another day stuck indoor!) on the tracker system.
Not arrived at the distribution area yet, so I don’t know when to expect them to arrive, latish I should think. I hope the Falls-Team lady comes early, then at least I can get some stuff to the waste-chute and down to the recycling bin.
On to the TFZer Facebooking next.
Virgin Down completely now. (I’ve typed this so often, the fingers did it on their own! – Chuckle!) Today is the upgrading session, mark day 2 for Global-Liberty (Lousy) Virgin Media Internet workers. So, I half-expected things to go down.
– The Stand-up Ablutions were tackled:
Dropsies were galore! Too many. Then, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, went into turbo-drive for a few minutes, just when I was shaving. I must say, had the farce been filmed, it may well have been an award winner at the British Comedy Awards! Even I would have laughed out loud at it; just imagining it brings a smile to my face!
The razor flew to my left, falling in the tray of cleaning stuff, I grabbed at it when it landed and knocked the shaving foam from the tray. I bent down to retrieve it, razor still in hand, it (the foam) was then propelled by Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley in the other direction, where it hit the ground cupboard top, removing various, nay, nearly all of the medical tubes down the back of the cupboard! Savlon, Daktacort, Haemorrhoid cream and my emergency supply of Co-Codamols! All bar the haemorrhoid cream, which was needed for use, the others are still down there somewhere, I’ll get them later. Harrumph!
Somehow, I’d cut the back of my hand as well! Only the tiniest of cuts, but it took some stopping, I used the aftershave, that did it; it stung a bit, mind! Then, after cleaning things up, the farce of the disappearing razor?
I’ll have another search when I go to pick up the things behind the floor-cupboard. Sigh!
I had a ring of Josie’s door chimes on the way out with the rubbish bags. No answer. So, in the elevator and down with the giant-bag of rubbish. Left it near Stew’s door. Then took a photo of the Information Panel, and nipped in the lobby area, to take some pictures.
Laundry Room
Lobby
Lift lobby
Back up to the apartment. Tried Josie’s door again, no answer. Got in and got the kettle on. I tried the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet, but no go, still down. So, I don’t know if I’ve had any reply from the surgery about the appointment, or the Warfarin INR level, and cannot check on the saucepans progress. Hey-Ho!
Sob!
–I thought I’d take the picker-upperer with me to get the knocked over things from the wet room… Huh! I had an involuntary (on my part!), Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the affected right leg, I managed to prevent myself going over, but unfortunately, it was so quick, I thought I’d got the stick with me, and used the picker to stop myself falling – it broke in half! Thankfully, I only fell against the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner! So, another picker-upperer bites the dust! RIP. Grangle-Grumps!
I really am back to enduring my usual luck again! Thanks mainly to the Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and Stroke Stuart! At least the dance only lasted a few seconds this time.
It’s such a shame that I didn’t realise that today was when Liberty-Global was going to fail again to improve their pitiable, wretched, internet service. Then, I would have not ordered the saucepans for today. There lie’s more reasons and proof that my systematic, massive misfortunes having returned to torture, annoy, bother and piss-me-off again!
I went to try Josie’s door again, Aha! She answered! I showed her the tin of Tuna flakes with Coronation dressing, and she fancied on her Sunday lunch. So, it shall be! I hobbled to the fridge to get a can of Daniels and coke and took it for her. Well, it’s a treat, although no doubt she’d prefer the Daniels neat. Hahaha! The Internet was still down. I wrote things down on Word, to use later. Took me a while to get it written, and as I got up to here, my door chimes rang out, to my chosen tune of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫, it was the Amazon delivery with the saucepans.
I checked them to see if they were made-up, or I’d have to get some help if they need assembling.
Here are the new ones, with the semi-new Crockpots behind
They were all made-up. so that was nice! I put the new frying pan in the trolley-guide bag, I’d decided to give it to the volunteers at the Social Kitchen to use. Got wrapped up warmly, and ventured out. Down in the elevator, through the link-passage, into Winwood Court, I met Angie and Roy at the foyer door, they were buying some stuff early from the bread and veg man, then catching a taxi.
Then into the big social lounge, where some residents were finishing off their Friday breakfasts. I was in a bit of a rush in case the bus came early, so I went straight to the kitchen opening window, cause they do not like my three-wheeler near the food, a lady came behind me and told me not to stand there, cause she’s trying to serve people! Fair enough, I shoved the brand new pan in her hand and told her “Here, you can have this!” The good feeling of my doing something to help, drained from me. I walked out through the Winwood foyer door and made my way to the bus shelter.
Feeling a tad miffed, but more hurt, after the pain, effort and cost, I thought I was doing something worthwhile and helpful, and the idea made me feel good. I can understand really. But as I get older, I seem to get hurt easier. No more freebies or help for them then in future. I was just trying to help out at the new kitchen volunteers, for the third time. In my current state of mind, and struggling to do everyday things, but still trying to help others, I can do without being depreciated. But bless them all for volunteering, I hope they can get some enjoyment from it.
I’m sorry Jenny was not in and wish the ILC’s had been in the office now, they could have been offered the brand-new just delivered frying pan.
I brought my spirits up a tad, by taking some photographs of Winwood Heights from the L9 bus shelter.
The bus turning Circle, cars blocking it as usual. But what choice do they have?
Ah, Angela and Roy leaving in their taxi!
I got on the bus, and out came the crossword book. I did well en route to town on the puzzles today. Swank-Mode-Adopted.
In town, I called into the Poundland Shop. Got some bits: A cheap kitchen roll, cause I’d forgotten to put one in the bag for nose-blowing use. Lavender Dettol disinfectant. Orange Kit-Kat, and some nuts.
I had a walk around, Parliament Street, Clumber Street, Long Row, Slab Square and on to Queen Street for the bus home. I’ll not put all the photographicalisation I took on here, cause there was fair lot them, I’ll do a Trip to Nottingham Special in another post with them all on.
I caught the bus back, and Bill (William on Sundays) got on further along the route. With us both being hard-of-hearing, the conversation was strained. Haha!
Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley was going at it on and off, and it made me feel like others were keeping an eye on the old man in the side-saddle seat. Hahaha!
I like Bill, a grand chap. Back at the flats, Bill held the door open for me to Winchester Court. We parted wishing each other all the bestest, and a smile. The only person I spoke to, was Herbert (Big John), doing his jigsaw puzzle in the big lounge, he’s good at them. I threw him a “Good Afternoon, you all right?” as I passed. But saw no one else, although there were a few folks about, I was not conversant with them. (Didn’t know them!)
I got up in the flat, no wee-weeing needed! I moved the mushrooms into a saucepan from the slow-cooker with the garden peas and got the new big pan filled with water for the boil-in-the-bag beef and gravy later.
I got on the computer, and Hey Presto! it was back on! Ooh, that did please me!
I go on with updating this blog, and before I knew it, the time was gone 17:00hrs!
It was getting misty outside.
I got on with creating the visit to Nottingham post. By the time I got it made and posted, I’d been up for over 18hrs! I think I’ll get the nosh done and head down next. I turned off the computer, and in a state of ultra-weariness, battled to keep my concentration as I prepared the stew.
18:55hrs: I took this snap of the evening sky, the horizon looked rather nice to me.
The new casserole saucepan was used to heat up the beef and gravy with onions. Despite my being too drained and over-ready for a kip, I ate it all with some milk bread to soak up the gravy. Hmm! Flavour Rating; 8.2/10 tonight.
I got the pots in the washing-up bowl to soak. Took another shot of the evening sky, and had a wee-wee. Settled in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner.
00:55hrs: Woke up feeling as if I had no sleep at all, I lay there for ages, uhtceare and heavy eyelids. The need for a wee-wee proved to be my expergefactor. Almost wearily, I forced my heavily-stomached body from the recliner. And was well-pleased when I found that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun were no longer in attendance. (Oh, yes, I was most approbatory about this!)
I used the untouched-overnight GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and I was taken aback by the power of the flow at first, but it faded to a trickle shortly. SFDBFF (Started-Firm-Determined-But-Faded-Fast) style. Then, I was hobbling off to the kitchen, where I took the medications, made a brew and passed wind. It was only a silent tiny phwert, but boy, the pong it left!
Feeling much better now, life was returning to the brain, and physically I was doing well. Mmm, apart from the Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I was lucky not to drop the tea-caddy, then the kettle. This is going to be a problem when I start typing on the computer. But no complaints, qualms or expostulations from me. After yesterdays horrendous events, I just appreciated being here, and the absence of so many ‘usual’ ailments. Yee-ha!
I went to move the tomato-slicer from the tea-brewing area, and soon found how bad Nicodemus-neurotransmitter was today, and the slicer slipped from my grasp. I automatically and foolishly made a grasp for it to stop it hitting the deck. I caught it. The serrated edges of the blades drew blood. A good job I have a stock of plasters in the medical drawer, Tsk! Klutz!
I took two shots of the high in the sky moon. I used the Night Landscape option for them.
Unfortunately, when the nerve-ends transmitters let me down again, I lost my grip on the camera. Mercifully, I had adopted a habit of always using the hand strap with the photographicalising, and this saved the day and possible damage to the Nikon. Phew!
Yet again the nerves failed, when I was putting the lid back on the tea caddy. The result was a scattering of tea bags that was made worse by my failing to catch it properly, knocking it away from me. Which sent Glengettie tea-bags over the floor and between the cooker and cupboard! I fetched good picker-upperer from the front room and attached it to the four-pronged walking stick back to the kitchen. I nearly went head over heels on the way through the door, as I caught my dodgy right knee against the bulky load I was carrying. Dizzy Dennis came into force.
Now I was really getting back to normal! Bleeding, in pain, well-dizzied, pissed-off, and silently offering forth a selection of expletives and traducements, regarding my foul luck and many ailments! Yes, my run of fair-fortunes and luck has ended! Crying was an option at this stage, but my experience of its futility prevented my sobbing or committing suicide. Hehehe! But I was getting a little discouraged with events so far this morning. Yet a feeling of normality blossomed, and amazingly I cast off the shadow, cheered up, made another mug of tea, and got on the computer straight away. Mainly to scribble notes to use later in this diary, while the thoughts were fresh in my mind. Which I did!
Then I got the updating of the Monday post done and posted off.
I’ve had better starts to a day! But hopes linger!
I added some bits to Pinterest, then spend an age on the TFZer Facebooking. But I enjoyed it. Mr Fries Virgin Media started and stayed playing up again. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! Then went to make another brew of tea, gingerly, carefully and cautiously I might add. (Ha-ha!)
Then went on the WordPress Reader.
Well, I must stop now and get the ablutions done. Iceland delivery (Oh, fear of daft substitutions comes to mind!), then my precious sweet vampire Christina is calling to take my blood later. I put the handwashing in the bowl to soak before doing the cleansing of my ailment-ridden, torturously overburdened-bellied body-mass. Then off for the stand-up, cause it’s too early to make a noise with the shower.
Well, it didn’t take long before the first cock-up, did it? I got the shaving done first (one nick on the cheek) for a change.
As I stood back from the sink, I caught the four-pronged stick, fell backwards and clouted the side of my head and cheek against the dreaded sock-glide on my way to visit the rather hard floor” The sock-glide is now bent a bit! So are my elbow, knees and confidence, that was caused by the landing, not the glide! Grungle-Grumps!
The legs looked betterer this morning, though, less palish. Just noticed how I put the two photos together, at least I’m hiding the worst bits of my body, Hahaha! The teeth-cleaning went well, only one dropsy; the brush. The flannel once, and the carbolic soap. The refreshing and medicating afterwards; dropped the Haemorrhoid cream tube, olive oil bottle, then the body, spray (twice).
Got dried-off, and dressed, off to get the handwashing done. The Iceland deliveryman cometh. He kindly threw the bags into the kitchen for me, and I sorted out what was what. Or, not! I’m already looking forward to having the braised steak in onion gravy, the taste is fine, the main advantage is they are boil-in-the-bag, less chance of burning when… if, I fall asleep, no sauce to make either, so less washing up to do. Little things like this, mean a lot when you’re disabled and a bald, deaf, hard-of-seeing, overly-flobby-stomached, short, memory-tested, bespectacled, saccades-suffering septuagenarian! I lost the plot there again!
No substitutes! Some expertly squashed sliced wholemeal cobs, that I managed to return to something like their original shape. Some short-date satays, beef slices and pork & pickle pies. Got the canned goods, baked beans and tubers in the farraginous cupboard with the other stuff. To eat the short date products with time, might include me becoming even more overweight. Haha!
If only Christina comes early, I can get out to buy a replacement saucepan and something else, but I can’t remember what it was at the moment. I took some black bags to the waste chute. Then started to work on the graphic making on CorelDraw.
Tap-tap, bang from the electricians. The ‘Hum’ getting even louder. And it looks like Christina will not arrive in time for me get any shopping for saucepans and whatever the other thing is that I need. Most agravannoying!
Phlebotomy nurse vampire, the super-beautiful and highly desirable Christina arrived, a little earlier than expected. So, I might be able to catch the 10:30hrs bus to go and get some saucepans to replace those I’ve burned! Haha! She took the blood in her usual professional way, no bleeding from the vein, as usual (Oh she is good, and pulchritudinously, alluring, angelic, appealing, beauteous, charming, bewitching, and gorgeously pretty with it). She warned me of the oh, so cold weather outside. If only I was fifty-odd years younger, fitter, had hair, no ailments… Dream on Inchcock! Hahaha! Christina departed, sadly in her usual rush, bless her.
Recycle bags were made up, two large ones, and I got dressed and things ready to go for the bus. I remembered to take the bag of spuds I’d ordered by mistake from Iceland, to give to someone who could use them, it had enough potatoes in it for a meal for ten people!
You should have seen me struggling with the three-wheeled guide trolley and the two massive bags of waste for recycling! Getting out of the lift, I caught one bag against the door frame, dropped it, hit my head on the wall bending to retrieve it, gathered everything and then I saw a bloke waiting to get in the lift – if an expression ever spoke, his did! “What is this old fart messing about at!” He never spoke, he didn’t need to. I got the bags to the caretaker’s room, then on to the Wardens Detention and body-search Office, dropped the potato bag off, and walked to the Winwood Court Social Room and had a go at the crossword book. But the concentration was not good, I think my trying to make u[p my mind where to go for to buy the saucepans was bothering my dithering mind, so I hobbled through to the Winchester Court lobby.
Where I spotted something, I did not expect on the table there. A copy of the Financial Times Money paper!
Winchester Court: Lift lobby
Outside Winchester Court: The old style Letter Box
I went out to the bus stop and took some more photographicalisations of Winwood Heights. I kept walking about to keep warm, gosh, it was nippy out there, and very windy with it!
Winchester Court
Winchester Court
Winwood Heights, from the bus stop
AS more residents joined me at the shelter, the main topic of discord this morning, was the vehicles blocking the turning circle for the buses and emergency vehicles. I said nowt, but felt the workers had no other choice, as no parking spaces were available for them to use? Difficult situation.
Caught the bus with about twelve other tenants, who all got off in Sherwood. I decided in route, to go to Sainsbury’s in Daybrook to look for saucepans and get some nosh in. As I got off of the bus, Dizzy Dennis came on, but not badly, but it slowed me up and did my concentration no good. A few hazy bits in my memory of the visit. I do remember getting a cling-film wrapped set of three saucepans, all ready-made up (handles and lids not loose). Which was glad-making for me. It was the last on the shelves, too! I recall struggling to get around carrying it and coping with the walker-guide and getting things off of the shelves to buy.
I spent £18.60 in total, paid at the self-serve tills. Then, as I was going for the bus home, it dawned on me, I had not got the saucepans! I stopped near the exit doors and checked the receipt… no, I hadn’t paid for them anyway! What I had done with them remains a mystery. Did I leave them somewhere in the shop, or at the checkout? Ay-yay-yay! What an Eizel!
I caught the bus back to the flats. No doubt about it, Arthur Itis is going to start giving me trouble again. The occasional short sharp stabbing pains behind the knees, not often, were the clues and signs.
Back at Winwood Heights, I made my way to Winwood Court and through the link passage. I thought I was doing well, Chrissie and Betty overtook me, then, further along, two other ladies overtook me. Leaving me in their wake, so’s to speak. Hehehe! All four of them, pleasant ladies.
Over the next few hours, I took these pictures on the right of the page, of the sky from the unwanted, unneeded, unpopular, light and view-blocking, unable to get at to clean, photographers nightmare kitchen window.
Arthur Itis reminded me of what’s to come a few times.
I took the medications straight away so as not to forget. The thermometer is still not working properly. It just shows High or Low, no actual temperature levels at all? Puzzling that, it used to show details every time, but no longer! I suppose that I have pressed or set it up wrong during one of my dreaded and feared, confusing ‘Out-of-it’ spells? This thought got me pondering: If I snuff it during a ‘Blank’ spell, will I die not knowing I’d kicked-the-bucket? Would that be better than knowing at the time? Does it matter? Hehehe!
The things that sometimes permeate through and hassle my brain; I don’t mean the usual brain-storms, but these odd moments of pointless reflections, can be entertaining, but not until after they’ve been tackled or considered.
I got the kettle on, and stuff purchased put away. A cheap and a pricey washing-up liquid, distilled vinegar, baked beans, onion chutney, chilli-con-carne, Fancy flavoured Tuna for Josie’s meal next Sunday, orang biscuits, Viennese blondes, smoked almonds, Five-beans in tomato sauce, Mackerel for Josie, a bar of Galaxy chocolate, Lemon curd tarts, Milk Roll loaf, vine tomatoes, and a pack of two Italian brown Primora tomatoes. These tomatoes were not very large, but still £2 for two! I just hope they are as tasty as the ones I got last week from Ocado. Sainsbury is part of Ocado anyway, along with Waitrose.
I found this little snippet of information on Wednesday morning:
BBC News Feb 2020. Marks & Spencer and Ocado have confirmed a deal which will give the High Street retailer a home delivery service for the first time. M&S will buy a 50% share of Ocado’s retail business for £750m. The joint venture will be called Ocado and will deliver M&S grocery products from September 2020 at the latest, when Ocado’s deal with Waitrose expires. Under the deal, Ocado will also continue to supply its own-label products and big-name branded goods.
Which pleases me a lot. I cannot get to M&S in Nottingham easily. There are escalators to get down to the basement food store, which prior to the stroke, were of no problem for me. But now I have to use the elevator, which means so much more hobbling with the walker-guide to get there, and again to get out again with a full trolley.
The nosh was prepared and served up. Chicken and vine tomato Dagwood-Style sarnies, new potatoes, mushrooms, garden peas and beetroot. A lemon curd yoghourt and drink of orange cordial flavoured spring water for afters. I ate the whole lot of it! Not a scrap left on the plate!
Got the washing up done, thought about doing the handwashing, but chickened out. Then got my head down early even for me, but I was so weary. Sweet Morpheous came within minutes, ah, bliss! My worries and fears stop when I sleep… unless the nightmares start of course.
The banging on the door and ringing of the chimes woke me up! Growls of Grumpworthiness! I somehow got out of the recliner and to the door, with the brain caching me up. I was still drained and so confused. Josie was there and a big bloke with a clipboard. Then I found myself with Josie’s tray and cutlery on it, from last Sunday’s meal I’d cooked for her… then in the flat with the ID tag missing man, 6’2″, stocky, dark brown hair. I asked him (I think), Why he was checking in Water usage? He replied, ‘We want to know who has baths or showers fitted…’, but he still didn’t tell me who or where he was from! (These details I found on the scribble pad in the morning).
I was so pissed-off at being woken up, it doesn’t matter that people would not expect anyone to be sleeping so early; my rest was knackered! And getting back to sleep took me ages! Amidst swearing and spitting out words of hatred at being disturbed again!
What an odd day! A day of changeable, poignant, fragmentary, haphazard, mental bocks, absent-mindedness and confusion, and Grumpworthiness!
02:20hrs: As I came back to artificial life, from my nightmare filled sleep, I could clearly hear what I thought was a steam press. Somehow I thought I was still out of it and dreaming, cause the dream was about me being stuck in a giant steam press, with people fighting over who should activate the controls? But it soon became apparent that the noise was the World of Science baffling, ‘Hum’!
I rose out the £300, second-hand, c1968, biliously-beige-coloured recliner. I hauled my pharaonically flobby-body onto its tiny by comparison, feet, caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and wobbled off to the kitchen. Arthur Itis and Anne Gyner were just not bothering me at the least? Was I actually awake or still dreaming?
I took a photo of the blue sky. I soon found out when I all but let the kettle slip put of my hands as I went to fill it, Nancy’s neurotransmitters on the right-side were failing again. Not surprising really, cause they medics have told me they can do nothing about it. But the real reason I knew I was awake was when I stubbed my toe against the sink cupboard as I retrieved the kettle and got cold water down my dressing gown, jammies, belly, privates, legs, and feet! Ah, my run-of-the-mill, unostentatious unlucky-status seems to have returned! Just as well, cause my recent patchy run of decent luck, was alarming me a bit, I’m not used to it! To the wet room, and dried myself off and changed trews.
Then as I made a brew of Glengettie tea, it was then time for Shaking-Shoulder-Shawn to kick-off.
They came on without any warning twinges this time. I was all het-up about making the mess and having to change togs, though.
I got the medications sorted, and returned to the main room and got the computer going. The tea had gone cold, so I went to make another, and decided to open the window again, to take a picture of the housing on view outside. Many lights were on in the dwelling, that caught me out for a second. I didn’t realise the time had flown so fast. I went back to the front room, forgetting to make a mug of tea!
I made a start first on finishing off a graphic I started yesterday on CorelDraw, then began the updating of the Sun day block – Oh dear! What with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and the persistent Shaking-Shoulder- Shawn, and now Mr Fries, what is it he calls it? ‘Virgin’s Superfast Broadband?’, things were not going well at all! But then, I should be used to it by now!
Hours later, I got it finished off and went to make a brew. It was getting lighter now. But I got sidetracked my an instant demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised, so off to the wet room, I trudged. By gum, my usual ailments and accidents are rife. I’m confident they have returned today, after 2½ days of near-normal luck! The evacuation was solid, painful, and bloody. Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding as well!
But no more toe-stubbing at least! It’s been that long since I needed them, I had to think which of the tubes and tubs were for what ailment. Hahaha! The legs were looking somewhat paler than for a long time, but the Clopodogrel lumps and blotches were still absent, so my full-rate of bad luck hasn’t all come back yet. I had a wash-up and wiped the contact points with the antiseptic.
Visited the WordPress Reader section, TFZer Facebook page, Pinterest, and did the comments reading, well the comment. Hehe!
Then I made the brew of Thompsons tea, and back on the computer. Many repeated ‘Failed to save’ signs continued to pester me! But, it’s all part of my returning back to the regular bad-luck-in-life, I suppose. Tsk!
I worked a few more hours on this blog and decided to have a go at making another brew and have some brekkers. That was the plan anyway. Things did work out as expected, though.
I had a double-whammy of ailments come on together. Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun to start with. The worst ever bout I’ve had. I just stood there with one hand on the stick, the other on the side of the sink. Must have been there for twenty-minutes like that. Too scared to move for fear of toppling over, and then Saccades Sandra joined it as well, the room was spinning.
Should I press the wristlet alarm? I lost focus, virtually unbalanced, with very little sight. Overall it was a good half-hour before things cleared. In the past, these Dennis Dizzies and Sandra have only ever lasted for a few minutes at most. But, amazingly, they departed suddenly, within two minutes or so, and I found myself making a brew? Feeling so pleased they had stopped, everything returned to normal, sight back, no problems? This is worth mentioning to the Doctor, I think, all the same. I’ll email for an appointment later on, I reckon.
Then, as I was hobbling back with the mug of tea, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dance routine. It was all over within a minute, no falling, no hitting into or knocking anything over. Not even any spilling of the mug of tea, I got it down on the book cabinet as it started performing. I’ve had a lot of worse sessions. But I still needed to sit down for a minute or two. But was soon back up at the computer, updating this blog.
Fatima Fatigue fell upon me, big-time.
I got the nosh prepped. I’ve still not fully returned to my usual vacuous, yet tortured unrelenting state of mind. It feels all odd not fretting and panicking about anything. The return of Whoopsiedangleplopalising seems to have helped, in a distorted sort of way.
The meal, a 7.9/10 for flavour and taste, went down well. I put the things in the bowl to soak, and got settled in the recliner… but sleep was not interested in coming, despite how tired I was. Humph! Inchyangulations!
