23:50hrs: I woke, pondered, tried and failed to get the mind functioning, passed-wind and realised (as is so frequent at my vivification times lately), the need for a wee-wee was my expergefactor. I roused the brain then the body, the body was the easier of the two to inspire into semi-life. Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were all taking a break, which cheered me a bit. You wouldn’t believe the ease with which I got out of the second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner! The right peripheral neuralgia leg was giving signs of a possible upcoming involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routine. The tiny twitches were the signs.
I got to the overnight well-used, but I can’t remember doing so bucket. Another half-hearted, but slightly painful evacuation, of the PWWDIB (Pathetic-Weak-Why-Did-I-Bother) mode.
While waiting for the dribble to terminate, I mused over the situation. If after five minutes of non-stop passing, I’d managed only a couple of fluid ounces; then how many times had I needed to get up and to have utilised the GPWWB overnight, to find it so full now? And, why do I not remember waking, getting up, wee-weeing, and getting my grossly-stomached body back in or onto the rickety recliner? Mind you, I did wonder why I found that I’d had left the walking stick on top of the clothes airer?
No tea-making this morning, I washed out and disinfected the bucket and returned it handily near the computer, and got the computer on to update the Tuesday blog. But my concentration was not good this morning at all. The neuropathy and autonomic nerves in the arm and hand were not playing up much, more the shoulder at the moment, but things can change. It’s the brain causing the aggro.
After about an hour of updating, the usual sudden and urgent need for the Porcelain Throne arrived! I was not going to risk any delay, after the other day, so, I grabbed the stick and moved towards the door. Two or three supported paces and Arthur Itis came to life with a vengeance! Everything changed, the pain was chronic and stiffness too. But I had to get to the Throne at all costs. I limped on to the wet room.
No messing, dressing gown thrown off, PP’s down and got seated. Apart from the oversized amount, things went well. Hardly any bleeding, and what there was looked like it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Minimum pain as well. It was as good a session as could be expected. But the system did not clear things when I flushed it. So, hand filling the water box, I got it ready to go again, and this time it cleared things. Phew!
I got some fresh PPs on and noticed the old ankle ulcer wound was looking a bit lively if that is the word. A lot more colour in the pins as well. I got the camera and took a snap of the legs. On closer inspection, the ulcer didn’t seem so bad after all. The damned scary to look at thrombophlebitis and the deep vein arterial thrombosis (phlebitis) was getting prominent again. I got the Phorpain gel and gave both knees a jolly-good massaging with it, I’ll take an extra Codeine 30g as well.
It’s funny how easily and quickly things it can change from day-to-day. The blood papules and Clopidogrel maculations don’t seem to bad. When it came to me putting this picture on many hours later, I thought I might have a new ulcer coming underneath the old one? This may shortly mean a visit to the Anticoagulation Haemostasis Deep Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic, a mouthful, but I love typing it for some obscure reason. Hahaha!
Then, as I was washed and about to leave the wetroom, and it’s even harder for me to believe, but I spotted the camera lens cover that I had searched in the wet room for, four times to find last night! This is also worrying. Let’s look back over the last week, at the cock-ups from Inchcock. No, I’d better not, I feel an inefficacious, inferior, inefficient, inept, insalubrious idiot in life, as it is. No need to make myself feel even worse than I already do.
I spent many hours on the computer, making many errors, mistakes and correctionalisationing so often, it drove me mad.
Then, I had a visit from both Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun, and that was the end of any rememberable events, as I settled for a sit-down and recuperative rest. Where I stayed for several hours, not being able to sleep due to the shakes of Shaun, and no chance of logical thought, thanks, Dennis!
I was just feeling ready for sleep as Shaun was easing off, and the landline flasher burst forth. I knew it had to be xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, who else would know when to call at the optimum time to annoy me! I’m still convinced that when he damaged the recliner, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, that he fitted new clandestine CCTC cameras. He searched for my valuables, which he found and took. I got a bit of them back seven-months later, he had deposited some in his bank account for ‘Safe Keeping’, pawned some of the old bank-notes, and gave many of old coins to his favourite charity (?).
My part in the conversation was acataphasia-ridden, and with the brain not taking everything in, this is only a sketch of the conflab we had; Yesterday, the lad went to the hospital for his test results. NAL diagnosed (the final and longest section of the small intestine. It is attached to the colon). Ilieum Inftona (the third portion of the small intestine, between the jejunum and the caecum). It is slow-growing, and the doctors plan to do a yearly check on his colon. Which is not bad considering what it might have been. The thing that actually pleased the nihilist, was when they told him there were only 240,000 sufferers in the country. That’s done it! As if Pete needed proof of his individuality and Specialness! Hahaha! I was pleased for him, you’ll probably read in the Nottingham Post or hear on Radio Nottingham soon, Nottingham Man with a rare disease offers TV reporters a special-interview rate (£50 an hour) and tours around his home! (£55 plus VAT and £5 fro a cup of tea) Sorry, Pete, I couldn’t resist that!
My appetence for sleep was even stronger when I got back down in the recliner. My insomnia probably came from my nocturnality? Yet I did not actually feel too tired, just drained, depressed and a smidge of self-pity.
At least this Christmas Day I’d got a phone call; I’d not seen or spoke directly with anyone of course, but this is perfectly normal, and I don’t think affected me low spirits at all. Then the facinorous ‘Thought-Blasting’ came again. Then Shaking Shaun returned to join Dizzy Dennis, at least this stemmed the flood of confusing fears, worries, regrets and self-justifications and vindications. But still no chance of any sleep, so I turned on the TV, to pretend to be a normalish person, and watch the traditional holiday film of Dicken’s, A Christmas Carol, with Alastair Sim as Scrooge. I’d watched it, I don’t know how many times since it was first made in 1951, but annoyingly I stayed awake all the way through! Humph!
Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun continued to batter my oleogustustic body. Sleep resisted my efforts. I’d been up for around fifteen hours now. Bored, missing my chinwags and hobbles, generally feeling crestfallen, dejected, down-in-the-dumps and so annoyed at myself for some reason, or reasons!
I felt the need for the Porcelain Throne come on. Which, considering that all I’d had to eat was my traditional Christmas day very-large piece of pork pie all day? Out of the recliner, it was dodgy getting to the wet room, thanks to Dennis and Shaun. I then spent I don’t know how long, sat on the Throne, waiting for the action to start. I did my best, grunting and grimacing, had a go at the crossword book. Eventually, I gave-up, feeling trepidation, frustration and absumption. Had a wash, and weakly, I hobbled back to the recliner.
Dropping the stick as I sat down, stubbed my toe against the recliner’s metal foot, and wanted to cry. But I didn’t. Instead, I left the stick where it had fallen, plumped onto the chair, I silently cursed life, and tried to nod off to sleep, again. Futility came to mind, accompanied by an acceptance of the situation?
The stinging from the middle toe demanded some relief, so I rubbed in some of the Phorpain gel and then dropped the tube from my fingers as the finger-end neurotransmitters failed. I used the handily placed on the other seat kitchen towels, to wipe up the gel from the seat cover, floor my stomach and legs. Of course, bending down to get the gel off of the carpet, merely set-off Dizzy Dennis again, who had been calm, as the stubbed toe replaced him in the urgency stakes.
Depression and exasperation reigned, mangling their way deeply through, into my grey-cell box.
Welsh:Dydd Mercher 11eg – Dydd Iau 12fed Rhagfyr 2019
1500hrs: Wednesday 11th December: I was feeling pretty rough, bilious, and Dizzy Dennis was visiting me regularly. I got sat down, too weary and shaking a bit, to have anything to eat.
I sprang awake around 17:00hrs, in need of a wee-wee. I utilised the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), an SGSS (Short-Gently-Sprinkling-Spraying) variety. And realised that apart from the Dennis and the wobbles, I was feeling a good bit better than I did when I got my head down. So I thought I’d get on the computer, to do a bit on this blog. So when it goes down tomorrow, I’ll not be so far behind when and if it comes back on again after the maintenance work.
I poddled into the kitchen, with Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna being kind to me. The stubbed toe and Duodenal; Donald were a little bothering, but not bad by any means! I hobbled back almost quickly, to fetch the camera when I saw the evening skyline, to take these snaps.
I got back with a mug of tea, to the computer, and made a start, but the keyboard would not let me use the arrow keys. Grumph! I changed the batteries and cleaned it up, and tried again, but no go, now it was sticking every few words I typed! I decided, bravely I thought, to try and get the new keyboard and mouse set up. The bit of paperwork that came with it was ridiculously small! I put the glasses next to them in this photograph, so you can see the size, or lack of size, of the font, used! The new keyboard letters show you how minuscule the printed matter really was! Impossible to read at all! But the advice given me from my cyber-mate in New Mexico was consulted. The thing to plug into the computer was a bit much for the old fart, and I just did not know which hole it should go into!
So, I gave up. I’ll ask someone tomorrow for guidance. I got the black bags and was taking them out, and knocked on neighbour Malcolm’s door, to ask if he knew about the computer needs. He said he’d wait, while I took the bags, and he did, bless him. But, on my way back and getting into the flat, Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis both had a go at me! Poor Malc was taken aback by it! Mind you, so was I!
The chap spent ages trying to get it sorted, without any success. He checked the batteries in both machines, they were alright. He son found the right slot for the card to go in on the computer for me. Then, the Norton came up with a message, telling me it needed to restart the computer, to enable it to solve a problem? I made the box small, down to the tray to sort out the current problems first. Malcolm tries to read the print on the leaflet, but there was no chance. Everything should be working, and when he turned the keyboard on, the green light kept going off. Not that it was working with the light lit or off! He advised me to ring Amazon in the morning. But the green light kept disappearing each time after a few seconds. Oh, dearie me! I thanked him for his time and effort, and off he trotted.
I opened the Norton box, and clicked on Yes! The computer closed and opened, and I was presented with having to sign in again! Of course, I put in the wrong password, so had to press the Having Difficulty button, and go through a right palava! They sent an email with how to reset the password. The neurotransmitters sensory nerve-damaged fingertips were making mistakes all the time… I was getting all het-up, and Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun kept putting in an appearance. Gawd knows how, but I got it finished and then realised, I’d just used the keyboard!
So, I got on with this blog, before trying a restart again, praying that the keyboard would start again this time… Fingers crossed, here goes… Phew! All working!
This keyboard has things in different places, it’ll take a while to get used to. Too late for me to do any graphicalisationing now!
As I stood up to leave the computer, Dizzy Dennis had another little go at me.
Then I got settled in the second hand, c1968, recliner and began to watch a film on the TV. At the first commercial break, I nodded off.
Nice!
Thursday 12th December 2019
Hungarian: 2019. December 12, Csütörtök
I woke-up, remembered I’d not emailed Jane & Pete about not coming, it was election day, the stomach was grinding away. Dizzy Dennis was affecting me even as I was laid-out on the £300 second-hand, rusty, rickety, sometimes working, ramshackle recliner. I was sweating with almost slimy skin. Coughing and Tight Chest Charlie was back again.
As soon as I rearranged parts of the gruesomely flabby bouncing stomached body to get up, Arthur Itis kicked into a pain-giving mode, and I needed a wee-wee! The balance wasn’t outstanding as I made my way to the wet room. Considering that I had nothing to eat or drink last night, the wee-wee surprised me with being of the LHLBS (Long-Hosepipe-Like-Blasting-Splashback) mode.
Off to the kitchen, and got the kettle on. Got the handwashing, done, wrung and hung to dry. Took the medications, rubbed in some Phorpain Gel on the knees. I got the kettle boiling again, and almost retook the pills, Phew! That was close.
Off to the Porcelain Throne. Another just-in-time visit! I mentioned earlier about my not feeling too good, and having no nosh last night, so where the megaton-torpedo I passed came from, I don’t know? Painful, messy, but no bleeding. I wonder if there is an institute or help-line on this subject? Hahaha! Got a wash and contact points antisepticised, and to the kitchen and replaced the tea that had gone cold replaced.
To the computer, to update and start today’s on the same draft or draught, I think? The new keyboard was catching me out a bit here and there. (A lot really, with the Autonomic nerves putting in their half-penn’orth, and Succades Sandra blinking and twitching all over the room) it was a hard slog to get done).
I went to make another brew and got sorting the bags of treats for Sister Jane & Pete in the kitchen. As I was brewing, I snapped the morning moon when it came out.
Back to the wet room for a wee-wee, and what a release it was. A BOBSLTTFY (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived-Then-Trickling-For-Yonks) type. By the time I had finished, I’d forgotten what I was going to do next! Humph! Then, it had to happen, of course, I turned away from the bowl, and stubbed my toe on the metal raiser-legs, this caused a slight loss of balance. So,l I picked up the body-spray can, the Germoloid tube, the crossword book and dermatitis cream. The pen, I’ll have a look for again later on. Schlemiel!
I pressed on with the blogging. But, no time for any graphicalisationing yet, time to get the ablutionalisationing done.
Well, well, well, and by gum, that was a record session. Unfortunately, for dropsies. I’m finding it hard to think of something that I didn’t drop! Cut shaving, banged my shoulder on the hand-rail, and hit my forehead on the doorframe. Ah, well! The legs still looked a little pot-marked.
I got the black bag made up and a recycling big box (keypad set carton) to go down with me. I dropped them off and Stewart came to give me a hand. Then I continued to the Polling station, which was in the Winwood Court big social room, but blocked off, and access was via the fire escape outside. So, out I went in the cold, and it was cold too! I was going to take a photo of the iced-up car windows, but I’d not taken the camera with me. Shlimazel.
I got out, shivered and coughed, then to the polling area fire-escape door entrance. And proceeded to trip-up over the raised step while manoeuvering the three-wheeler and my bulk into the place! Tsk! A lady election aficionado came to my assistance. We had a laugh, which did not go down too well with other pollster-voters behind me, so I buttoned the lip.
On the way back to the flat, I called in the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators) holding cell and interview room, office. Mini-natter, and out and on back to the apartment. The sneezing started again.
Got in and made a brew. Got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Then got on CorelDraw to at last try to make some graphics. Minutes later, Sister Jane rang, they (Jane & Pete) were on their way. (And, she said, bringing back with them, what bit is left of the valuables and money that xyrophobia-suffering, lock-breaking, ‘Have-it-away-if-yer-not-looking’, drone user, Brother-in-Law Pete lifted from the flat while I was in the hospital.)
Jane & Pete arrived. Despite fears of my passing on germs to them, we had a super visit. Many laughs, reminiscences and three-way gossiping. I was a bit wonky in balance, but it didn’t phase anyone. (Looking back, I was a little ashamed that I didn’t make them a brew, Tsk!)
They had been in touch with Pete Chambers & Tammy in Hong Kong. On WhatsApp? For some reason, they do not use email or Facebook. Jane showed me some great photo’s they’d sent. I asked Pete if he could send them to me on email, which he did later. Here they are:
Great photo’s, taken by their daughter Debbie. Got me feeling a touch sad at my not seeing them for real, but glad to see them doing well.
Pete fetched the partial-remainder of the stolen loot and valuables from his car. By Gawd, he’d been spending! Hehe!
He told me to keep them safe and insisted on his knowing where I was putting them. Making sure he knew how to gain access to them, for when I kick the bucket. I handed the treats carrier bags over to Pete. They were both heavy, the booze you see, without Wine, they get very morose. Hehehe
A few hours later, and they went off to visit another relative, in Mapperley. I got my coat on and joined them, intending to walk to the Doctor’s to book an appointment to tell Dr Vindla about the Saccades Sandra, biliousness and the increased Dizzy Dennis problems.
They let me check the flat unhindered, as I looked at taps, lights etc. to be on the safe side. (I may have OCD?)
Then, half-way along Chestnut Walk in the rain, I was getting sodden wet through and chickened out of going on the hobble. I told Jane, we said our farewells and I got back inside, through the Winwood Court entrance, along the link passage, and into Woodthorpe Court. Up to the flat, and dried off! More stuff on the airers to dry!
I got the meal made and served up. I must cut down on the cheesy-potatoes, God they make the washing up a hard job! Haha!
The Aldi smoked chicken slices were great. Tomatoes a little bland, but then again, they are out of season and Spanish so what should I have expected. The garden peas with demerara sugar were superb tasting. The beetroots well cooked and not too hard. The Morrison Cox’s apples were bruised and soft though. The cheesy-spuds were okay, but I’d not mixed them enough. Overall, a flavour rating of 7/10.
I was doing the washing up and had to nip to the toilet. The wee-wee was a long one of the LRWS (Long-Reluctant-Weak-Sprinkly) variety. And Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding. So, a clean-up and the application of the Germaloid Cream was needed. The legs looked a bit easier blotch-wise.
When I got back to the kitchen, I found that I had left the hot water tap running again! Whatta-Plonker! Finished the pot-washing, moved the handwashing to the airer, passed-wind, and got settled in the rickety recliner.
Where I spend hours, mind-musing, recalling memories of my youth, fretting over the Saccades Sandra problem, coughing, regretting, bemoaning, sneezing, stewing over failures, regretting decisions and routes taken, and at some time, I must have nodded off!
23:55hrs: I opened my Saccades-ridden eyes, and life looked like an old flickering early movie in colour! I needed a wee-wee but left it until the eye-jumping had died down before attempting to move. By then, the Porcelain Throne was also in demand.
Extracting my bulky but blubbery body-mass from the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner and off to the wet room, was unusual in its ease and speed. I’d got into and onto the throne, before it dawned on me, just how I’d hobbled with such ease! The evacuation was as good as they come, there was little bleeding, hardly any pain, and the cistern coped with the torpedo-shaped and sized waste first flush! I washed the dandies, wiped the contact points with antiseptic disinfectant and off (rather nimbly for me too) to the kitchen.
I and got the camera on the legs, which were looking like someone else’s this morning Hehe! They had lost many of their bulges, lumps and blotches. The varicose, spider and saphenous veins could hardly be seen! I couple of new blood-papsules coming up, mind.
Flipping pale this Monday! One leg still retained a lot more fluid than the other. But the most astonishing things were that I found, was Arthur Itis, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger and Duodenal Donald, were all but painless at the moment! No wonder I was moving about so well! However, my EQ told me, I would soon become irritated and hassled about something? There are times this gift of a high EQ, can be so disturbing! Humph!
Then I opened the unwanted and unliked, light & view-blocking window to take a shot of the rather prettily-lit view. And the wind nearly blew me backwards! The window blew in and clouted me on the shoulder. I would have dropped the camera, but for having the camera wrist strap on! Boy, it was vicious!
It was a little early to take the medications yet. I made a brew, and an unexpected blotch of enthusiasm to get the blog updating done came. I assumed due to the Winwood Court photographing taken yesterday, ad the knowledge that it will be a long grind getting them in, with the right-hand’s sensory nerve-ends dying, and getting a little worse each day. So, with determination, I took the brew and got on the computer.
But:
I waited a while, thinking it might come back on… Fool! I turned off the computer, then back on, and the internet came on with it, but it was so slow! I made a start and downloaded the camera SD card to the Photograph folder.
Then tried to upload to WordPress, and…
I pressed the much-used, probably the most used button on the Virgin box worldwide, the reset button. I had the same trouble with BT years ago, that’s why I moved to Virgin. What a ‘Mistaka-to-maka!’
I turned the computer then the Virgin box off altogether. Made another brew, took the medications, passed-wind and returned to the computer. I turned back on everything and waited as the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box failed to ignite any activity with the internet. A good fifteen minutes later, I pressed the dreaded rest button again on the V-box.
Just like that, twenty minutes later, I got the signal back! The slow signal!
Then, I realised with it going down in the first place, it hadn’t saved any of my work already done! I was well miffed, peeved-off and feeling in-the-dumps, now! I assume this incident is what the EQ was warning me of? I hope so anyway, I can’t take any more adiaphorous activity!
I stupidly started on this blog, totally forgetting about updating the Sunday post! What a schlimazel!
So, I belatedly started the Sunday updating. Umph! It had taken me six-hours with all the internet connection problems, to get the post finalised. Irritable would be the word for how I felt!
I went on the WordPress reader, and put some stuff on the TFZer Facebooking. Got carried away and the time is flying by after the bad start. Thank you, Mr Fries!
I was doing some graphicalisationing, well, about to begin, and…
Argh!!! So I got the things ready and got the ablutionalisationing done. Humph!
T’was a grand session. Dropsies only five! Oh, Yes! No toe-stubbing. No shaving cuts, or sock-glide injuries either! I didn’t even drop the soap! All spruced up and dressed. Got the black bags made and off to the waste chute.
Bit of a Dizzy Dennis en route back to the flat. I’ve noticed I get them often when I am bending forwards or looking down? I made up the recycling bag and took it with me on the way out. I met Stewart, the caretaker, and he took it from me to take to the bin for me. Nice of him, that was!
Checked for things missed, not done or done that shouldn’t have been in the flat (several times, Huh!) and down the lift to the large Winwood Social Room. It took a while, as there is only the one lift working again!
I dropped some stuff off at the ILC Holding cell an office, and went in the big room and got the crossword book out.
Young, Welsh William walked in on his way back to his flat, and quipped, as he saw me crosswording, “Ah, you’re trying to look intelligent, don’t bother!” Hehehe! This, for some reason, set-off a panic attack; “Am I going out when a delivery is expected today?” I had no option but to walk all the way back through Windwood to Woodthorpe Court, back up the one elevator and into the apartment to check on the Google calendar when the delivery was due. Time was getting short of catching the bus… I discovered the deliveries are both for tomorrow. Phew! Then I had to hasten back down and along Chestnut Way to the bus stop! All this palava, to get a sourdough baguette, Haha!
I joined the huddle of Winwoodonians at the shelter, as the buses were due to arrive. Luckily they were both a couple of minutes late. The Arnold-bound bus arrived, and 90% of the gang got on this one. The City-bound one came afterwards, and we piled on it. I only rode up the hill for about three bus stops and got off near Woodborough Road. I got off and walked along to the Aldi store. The sun was intense but had no heat with it this afternoon.
As I was going into the shop, I had a dizzy spell again. Getting a bit regular these are, Mmm!
As I got inside and went to get a basket to use, this is the scene I noticed, near the entrance. Naughty! Fire extinguishers were inaccessible behind the shopping thingies! I started the shopping by going to the Sourdough baguettes. Then bread thins, tinned garden peas, Cox’s apples, small potatoes, some packs of cooked meats, cashew nuts, and went to the checkout.
Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun attacked as I was in the queue. Then, while I was being served, I had to suffer the embarrassment of a rather forceful version of the right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance! It was a short one but left me feeling a little vague. I cannot recall anything until I had got outside. I found the receipt in the bag. So I must have paid, Haha!
I walked along to Mapperley Rise, passing the old car showrooms, that had been used as a Garden Centre, and was seemingly now being used by an Arthur Daley copycat? I cannot recall taking these two photographs at all? All looking very like an Edward Heath enterprise to me? Haha!
The head was clearing of confusion; until I got on the hill going down to Sherwood. Then I started going all dizzy and feeling out of it again. Keeping my balance was nigh-on impossible as I clung on to the trolley for grim life, but it wasn’t any help this time. I had the nouse to just stop, which was not easy on one of Nottingham’s steepest hills with uneven paving! I just leant against a wall for half-an-hour or so, until I felt well and brave enough to continue hobbling precariously (and ultra-slowly) down to the flats.
There may be a clue as to the problems like this. I was going downhill, looking down when this took place? The same last month, with the falls, although in the flat. I was looking down both times when I toppled forwards and onto the deck?
I did notice that as I got to the flats along Chestnut Walk, I felt a lot more like myself, and the dizzies cleared altogether as I got on the flat bit of the road? The Doctor’s for me, I’ll make an appointment tomorrow, if I can get through on the phone, and if I can hear what the receptionist is saying. It might be best to use the email?
Another mystery photograph I found on the SD card. Taken I think, on Mapperley Rise?
I got in the flats and limped through the linking corridors and Winwood Court, into the lift lobby. Still only the one lift working, but no one was around, and I was soon up in the flat, and off for an SGSS (Short-Gently-Sprinkling-Spraying) wee-wee, and anointed the Arthur Itis knees with loads of well-rubbed-in Phorpain gel.
A lot of bumph had been posted while I was out. As I bent to pick them up (the picker stick has broken, a new one needed desperately – but who keeps forgetting – Inchcock does, the fool!), it occurred to me, I was stooping and reaching out, and no signs of any Dizzy Dennis bother? This puzzled me, as I bet it will the medics, too!
Washed, and got the goods stored away. I got some potatoes in the saucepan, on the boil. Then got the Dagwood sarnies made up. On the bread thins that I’d bought. I used the tomato slicer on a red and the black tomatoes used. Adding generous slices of cooked turkey and adding some onion-salt. Opened a can of garden peas adding demerara sugar). Put some beetroot on the plate. A lemon-curd yoghourt on the tray, a cox’s apple and a bottle of fresh orange juice.
I prayed that the appetite would stay with me! (It did too!)
Added the evening doses of medications, and a swig of the ineffective, wishy-washy, impuissant medicines. This repast was served up and got enthusiastically ingurgitated. With no dizzies! All gobbled up with relish! Flavour Rating: 6.25/10 given.
Xyrophobia Pete: posting his pools off before he won the £658,000 last August
I washed the pots up (No hand-washing again, idle git!). And settled down in the recliner. The one that xyrophobia-suffering, con-man and Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. And he fitted new CCTC cameras, and erected a drone-landing platform outside and searched for my valuables, which he found and took, (I still haven’t got them back yet seven-months later). Of course, I’ll never get them all back, he’s given some of the money to charity, and that he’s banked will not be returned I suppose. Tsk!
Cinema Poster
I opted for one of my all-time favourite films to watch on the DVD; Inspired from (Genius) H.G. Wells’ 1901 novel ‘The First Men In The Moon’. It was made I think, in 1964. I can certainly recall watching it at the cinema when it came out. Lionel Jeffries played his part to perfection all the way through. The entertainment value, memory provoking, and desire to go back and do things right this time, were all activated!
It brought back recollections of a young Meadow’s (Medders) lass, who I went to the cinema with, Caroline. We went to see it at the now long gone, Gaumont Cinema in Nottingham. I had to fork-out 7/- (3/6d each – 17½p) to get us in! Ahh, memories. I looked up the current prices at the Showcase cinema today, £8.80 to £9.75. How 17½p are in that total? I’d work it out if I knew how to.
No falling asleep watching this one! As it finished, I did dose-off. But kept waking up for a few times, (four or five at least- Humph!) before giving up, and getting up.
00:05hrs: I woke up in my old-tyle traditional fashion today like it used to be every flipping morning, in need of the Porcelain Throne, somewhat urgently. I staunchly battled my way, panickingly I freed myself from the Hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobic, Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. As he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables. Which he soon found and took. (I still haven’t got them back yet six -months later), £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. And, off to the wet room. Giving the electric clothes airer a wide berth en route!
I’ve no qualms about the evacuation this morning. Still too large in volume, but less messy! No bleeding either! Off to the kitchen, but I had to return for a wee-wee. Tsk!
The right-hand fingers seem to have lost their sense of contact with anything hard, again. I pressed the handle to get into the wet room and almost walked into the door! The broken-nerves failed to get the message that I was opening the door-handle to the brain, I suppose! I sincerely hope this is not going to get any worse. The leak was unexpectedly of the LHNC (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Sensation) variety. Rewashed the dandies, and back to the kitchen, once more.
I made a most tastefully satisfying brew of the Thompson tea. I’m addicted to this brand and Glengettie Gold tea bags. But fear that finding any Glengettie Gold locally may just be impossible! Ocado has none in stock and might not be restocking. As they have left the availability of the tea on their website as available, and you do not find out they have none until you get to the checkout! If you miss it, they’ll send substitutes! The Swine! This week is the third time I’ve made an order with them, and had to cancel it! I went on the Typhoo, who owns the Glengettie brand, web site. I got a Norton message telling me it was unsafe! I searched the web for local stockists but found none. ‘Grr! The only place I found any on was Amazon! Thank heavens!
I started on updating the Sunday post, but it was hard work with the finger-end nerves so bad. Ever correcting and making mistakes. None of them an ignotism, it’s not my fault, and I have to cope best I can. But, it’s getting to me this morning. Hindering, impeding, and aggravating, Globbledigooks!
It got so bad after a couple of hours, I stopped and got the handwashing I should have done last night, undertaken. Which was a farcical experience, I can assure you. The right-hand side of my body was not in a good state to start with today, and walking was not easy even with the stick. The inner-desire of the torso to suddenly want to lean to the right-hand side nearly had me over a couple of times already. And the strength of grip had diminished a lot, so wringing out the clothing was not an easy task, either.
Taking my pictures was not plain sailing. I had no sense that the hand was shaking, but could see on the camera screen, that it was. But could not do anything about it. Grumph!
I just hope it is not a permanent thing, and that it eases off later. Please!
I tried taking a snap from the unwanted, crap, light & view-blocking, thick-framed new kitchen window after getting the washing done. But had to take four shots of the view above, to get this one that was okay. (My EQ, just knew I’d have to pay for having a decent day, [apart from getting soaked in the rain, Hehe!] yesterday!)
Back to the updating of the blog. Hours later, I’d got it finished. Then posted it off and went on the WordPress reader.
I went on Facebook catching up, and there was plenty to catch up on! Many hours spent, but I was so glad to get back on the TFZer site.
Time to get Josie’s nosh prepared. Something a little different for her today. The tuna mixed with mayonnaise, plus some oven-baked smoked haddock on the plate. Mushrooms, gherkins, and tomatoes. Fresh orange juice and naughty but extremely nice, Limoncello desert.
I remembered belatedly when I’d got the food server to Josie’s door, to fetch the camera to photograph the nosh. It came out a shaky, blurred one I’m afraid. Tsk! Then I took a shot of Josie, who was not happy at my doing this, and was waving me away as I took it. But I think it came out alrightish and caught her expression to a tee! The ludic smile showing through. I hope she forgives me for using this picture, it was such a perfect one, with her fun-side showing through. Bless her, I hope she likes the way I cooked the smoked haddock. Happy eating, gal! ♥
I was going to try some haddock myself, but as you will read later, I ended up not having a meal at all, but it was my own fault.
I got back in the kitchen and sorted out the mess I made while cooking, pots washed, and cleaned the floor where I’d spilt some butter.
Getting myself back up from sorting the floor out, the old fatigue hit me hard, and I felt well-drained suddenly. Mind you, I’d been up for thirteen hours by then. I got some King Edward potatoes simmering, and the smoked haddock in the oven, and went for a relaxing sit-down and to watch some TV, with the timer on the Ottoman at my side.
I noticed that the arm bruise had already lost its yellowish glow, and was disappearing fast now. I thought I could see a face-pattern in the markings, that’s why I took this picture but blown if I can see it now. Hehehe!
I quickly nodded-off, into a right deep sleep…
By the time I woke up with a jump, several hours had passed, and it was near midnight. I rose and panicked, the instant I smelt the burning form the kitchen and remembered the fish and potatoes cooking! Oh, dearie me! Off I shot to the stove. Stubbing my toe en route!
To find the King Edwards all over-boiled and were in pieces with peel disintegrated. A right mess of overflowed water all over the cooker, down and onto the floor. Even more of a surprise, found I’d put the haddock in the oven to cook, and not turned it on! Which turned out to be a blessing in disguise! The job of cleaning it all up was not easy. I had to drain and strain the potato bits and get them in an extra-thick black bag, then put that into another sack. Wash the saucepan stove and floor! The melted, wonderfully smelly smoked haddock was dried and went into the bag as well. They can be taken to the chute after 08:00hrs in the morning.
This incident triggered my acrasia, and sparked-off my cringe-making, remorsefulness, and self-reproach! I was suddenly ashamed at my stupidity, and felt a right jobbernowle!
I decided to stay up! I got the days handwashing done, perhaps as a sort of penance?
As Malcolm Cowley wisely said: “They tell you that you’ll lose your mind when you grow older. What they don’t tell you is that you won’t miss it very much” Hehehe!
00:40hrs: Woke in need of the Porcelain Throne. I extracted my worryingly ever-growing more flabby-body from the £300, second-hand, rickety, c1968 recliner, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and off to the wet room. A right mixed bag this morning. The evacuation began of its own before I was settled in the Throne! The oh so painful movement was in auto mode, I had no control over any actions taking place. And bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies lesion! And how come such a dollop again? The blood was cleaned up, new PPs adorned, washed up, and off to the kitchen (Feeling a stone or so lighter, Hehe!)
A bit of a Dizzy Dennis bout as I put the kettle on, but it didn’t last for long. I took the medications and made a mug of tea.
Straight on the computer, and began to get this blog started. Downloaded the photographs for Wednesday’s post, and something was causing things to go very slowly? Oy Vey! When I’d tuned them-up on CorelDraw, I tried to get them in the WordPress album to use…
The internet was going so slow when it did go, and cutting out occasionally all morning long, This happened so often, my blogging-pleasure was almost destroyed. Thanks, Fries!
I moved on to finalising the Wednesday post.
This took a few hours, despite so few photographs going on the blog.
I made a brew of tea, took an Aperture setting photo of the morning sky. Converted it to 32 bit, and it came out alrightish.
The internet was still down, so I got the ablutions done. Stand-up job needed doing before the Morrison delivery arrived, it’s too early to use the noisy shower. It went very fair, too! No Accifauxpas, the Sock-Glide fight was a draw, no toe-stubbing, and the dropsies were about average. Toothbrush (2), flannel, soap, and razors (3). Oh, I did kick the bleach bottle over, but no leaking. So I’d say a 7/10 score! Hahaha!
Although the pins (legs, knees) were not looking too healthy this morning. A new series of multi-coloured extra-large Clopidogrel blotches had appeared, as well as spots, blotches and welts! The knees looked very painful, but in fact, didn’t feel too bad at all?
I got myself ready, and made up the eight rubbish bags, and left them near the door to go out after 0800hrs to the chute.
Hello, the internet is back on! I made an Ocado order up cause I noticed the had the Glengettie tea bags on sale. When I got to the checkout, they were Out-of-Stock! So I cancelled the order, Humphed and swore under my breath! Swine!
I went on Amazon to get a wind-up torch, well, two, one for a little pressie, and one for me. While on there, I noticed that they were selling the Thompson black teabags, those that Morrisons stopped stocking! Definitely the second-best on the market. Glengettie Gold the absolute way-ahead best, but I can’t find any on sale anywhere now Amazon and Ocado have stopped stocking them Grrr, spit and curse! But the Thompsons, I recall were nearly as good as The Glengettie Gold. So I ordered some of them as well. Not cheap, but with free delivery, and all of the goods are to be delivered tomorrow! Stuff Ocado for not stocking the Gold, and Morrisons for stopping Thompsons! Gits! Luckily it doesn’t bother me much. Lie-Mode-Detected!
The Morrison delivery arrived, I let him in the foyer door, (Yes the intercom was working!)
He got tot he door and kindly dumped the carriers inside the door for me. I thanked him, handed him the used bags from the last delivery, and got the bags into the kitchen to sort out.
I should manage without a delivery next week. I’m stocked up on instant mash now, in case the wet weather causes any more blight. Plenty of my favourite rice in the bin, too. I tried some ready-made meals on offer at three for £5, vegetable risotto. I had to get the packs back on the bashed up trays, but I don’t think any were leaking.
I updated the calendar with the Amazon deliveries for tomorrow. Added the INR blood test to it also, it’s not until 11th, so I will be having withdrawal symptom for the lack of a visit from my beautiful Polish phlebotomy nurse next week. Sob!
Ah, time to take the bags to the rubbish chute, and get ready for my going out on the bus to town, in search of some Chinese sausages I’ve been advised, that go very nicely with rice.
Back later on. (Oh, I do hope so anyway, Haha!)
Set off down the lift, and called into the Oberstgruppenführeresses Wardens Interrogation Room and Office. Nibbles and chinwags, then on into the large Social Room in Winwood Court. I was going to do the crossword puzzle before getting the bus to town, but met a Nottingham City Homes chap on his laptop, and had a natter, chinwag and moan with him instead. It was nice to talk to someone other than a shop assistant. Hehe!
Out to the bus stop, a ganglet of residents lurked around the bus shelter, and in seconds the City-bound L9 arrived. Some residents let me get on the bus ahead of them, to get settled in the side-saddle seat. Gladly. Mary sat in another side-saddle, and we had a good gossip en route to town. Where we dropped off and both went into the Poundland Store. I was in search of some Magnesium tablets but didn’t find any again. Mary stocked-up with her coffee and other bits. She paid, we said our farewells and we parted.
Mary caught the bus to Arnold, and I set off on a hobble to the Asian store in Hockley. On the way,
I spotted the frontage of the Palais de dance, now renamed the Prizm, decorations for Halloween. Gross, innit? Haha!
I cut through Heathcoat Street onto Goosegate, and noticed the Oriental Mart shop, and called in for a walk around. Blimey, it was messy and dirty in there. I did have a good search around to find Chinese sausages, eventually finding some in a fridge. But they were all dried air-tight packed ones. The writing was in Korean, Japanese or Chinese, and they did not look attractive at all, so I left, and carried on to the end of the road and left down the hill, to the Asiana Express shop.
After a hunt around (It was a large store), I asked an assistant if they had any Chinese Sausages, and she led me to where they were. I found three different types, again all air-packed and dried ones. One was black and white, one brown and the other red?
Unsure of how to cook them anyway, I left them and looked around and found some seaweed snacks and Skewered Beancurd nibbles. I think I have tried the beancurd before and liked it, but, of course, I may be getting this mixed up with something else.
Knowing my recently increasing propensity for disorientation, and bewilderment, along with my involuntary adoption of a hazy-dazed-state of befuddlement, I might be wrong. Tsk! I also got tempted, by a bottle of Marca Pina Vinegar (Sukang Puti Vinegar), Made in the Philippines. I did a Google search later, to find out what it is used on. White vinegar is sometimes also referred to as spirit vinegar. Contrary to its name, white vinegar is actually clear. It is usually produced from sugar cane, the extract of which is put through acid fermentation. In the process, the liquid is oxidized, causing the chemicals in it to change and become more acidic. Another way of making white vinegar is to combine acetic acid with water. This variation is much sourer than the naturally fermented type; it has 5% to 20% acetic acid content and is considered stronger than any of the other types.
I could not find exactly, apart from shrimps, what it is to used to flavour? No mention of chips of course. Haha! One site suggested using it with soy sauce, so it might go well with rice or baked beans? Most likely I’ve no idea what I’m waffling on about, but I’ll give it a go, anyway. Another site, said that it was good for diabetics?
I got carried away there, sorry. Back to the diary.
I paid the lady the requested £9.64, and departed, up the hill towards Carlton Street.
The cafe with the al-fresco seating looked rather sad! Time to call in Hells Kitchen’s Gordon Ramsay, methinks? I wonder if he’s ever done a place in Nottingham? I suppose it’s more profitable for him to carry on in the USA though.
Hobbling up the hill, I was given plenty of chances to picture the many law-breaking and getting away with it, Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists going up and down. But this one was the most interesting one, as was proved seconds after taking the photograph, and his comical, almost acrobatic effort, to avoid the signpost outside a shop! Charlie Chaplin or Buster Keaton would have been proud of doing on screen! Hahaha!
Top of the hill, I spotted an imitation policeman and a Sainsbury security guard, outside the store, having a good chinwag and laugh about something or other. I took this photograph just to prove that I actually saw an Police officer, on foot, in Nottingham City centre (Albeit an imitation one!)
I moved on down the hill on Pelham Street, where a gauntlet of beggars, salesmen and women and a counterfeit-bogus Big Issue seller (No badge, and only one copy of a very out of date magazine! Oh, yes, my investigative skills were on the boil, here!), each after some money of some kind from me. They didn’t get any!
Down the slope and to the Queen Street bus stop. The bus arrived on time, and I had a jolly-entertaining laugh joke, memory prompting, and some leg-pulling (Not literally, Hehe!), with Penny, Louie and a lady from Mapperley en route. This helped the journey go quickly, but unfortunately, before I arrived at the flats, the need for me to go quickly for a wee-wee developed! For a once, I did not wait until the others got off of the bus, I got up first, and changed hellos with folk at the shelter, and scurried along back in a determined but painful to the knees efffort, to avoid any Accifauxpas! I got in the flat and the wet room in time. It seemed the inner wee-wee tap had been turned back on.
I suppose with the lack of passing earlier, it had to come. This wee-wee, made me think of firemen’s hose-pipes, and Sunami’s! There were not many areas after the gushing HDTS (Heavy-Duty-Torrential-Splashback) wee-wee, that didn’t need cleaning up, including my podgy, short, overweight body! The evacuation and the bending down cleaning had tired me out, and Back-Pain-Brenda had started to give me some stick! Yet, surprisingly, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) had actually eased off considerably? All part 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 universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination!
I left the handwashing for tomorrow, (Which I may regret) and got the nosh sorted out. I put some black bean sauce in the pan, then the frankfurters, next, the rice and a little BBQ sauce. Ten minutes later, it was in the bowl on the tray with some Milk Roll bread, orange juice and a Limoncello dessert, oh and some seaweed nibble sheets.
The meal was enjoyable, even if I was fighting off tiredness and resisting falling asleep while eating it! I managed to get the washing up done, no wee-wees again and got settled 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, (I still haven’t got them back yet five-months later), £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.
I got the headphones on. It was heavenly ecstasy, utopian, pure-pleasure, I fell asleep. I even began dreaming of a wonderfully pleasant, non-irritational, no-hassle life I was living in a cottage with Suzie and our family. I’ve never dreamt of such happy-perfection before. It was Bliss!
Then, the landline rang and flashed and woke me up! @ξX~#! Unbelievable, it was the unshaven crooked, bully of a Brother-in-Law Pete ringing! I suspect he’d checked his drone or one of the CCTV cameras he fitted in the flat when he was nicking my valuables while I was in the hospital, and saw that I was sleeping. He gave me the low down on his hospital visit. Good news, it is not cancer! But he is to be sent to the City Hospital, possibly the dedicated MSU (Money-Stealing Unit!), to find out what the growth is, then have a biopsy, followed by the possibility of an operation to go in and have a proper investigative look. Poor chap, he’s been so fit for so long, it’s only natural that he will be concerned. I found a lot more scribbled notes I wrote down, with humourous suggestions I think, to myself, for writing here, but the writing became indecipherable! (Well, I was half-asleep at the time!) he awaits the appointments to arrive. No doubt recounting my cash and building even more advanced drones and clandestine CCTVs! Hehehe!)
The conversation finished with a nonchalant, “I’ll let you get back to sleep now!” from the lad. But he’d already destroyed my dream, along with bringing back the memories of my cash being stolen from me! As if there was any chance of my getting back to sleep! Grumph! Giggle!
But did get back to sleep. (Wished I’d keep my mouth shut now! Hahaha!)
00:50hrs. Good morning, my fellow Wordsmithonians and photographicalisationalistical, philosophising, friends. Hope all is well with you?
I woke to sound of the flipping humming, droning sound that is all around the building, 24/7, non-stop! But it seemed to be worse, lounder and definitely more annoying this dark-dang early morning. Whether it was, or it might have been my frame of mind, or the hearing suddenly working again, I don’t know. It made me cringe at the knowledge that nothing could be done about it!
Ah, well! It was soon replaced with the call to the Porcelain Throne. Which over the last four days, has been absent, but it’s back on song again, at its usual time. Which is whenever I wake up. So, I struggled out of the Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, seat 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. (I still haven’t got them back yet nearly six-months later, and I’ve learnt he has given away my £80 worth if twenty-pence pieces to the RNLI), chair. £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. Grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, (I’m mastering it now, not falling over it so often) and off I wobbled to the wet room.
Well, it could have been a story and a half this session, but I’ll best skimp over it. It was bloody in the extreme, massive in size and needed medicationalisationing, involving Anusol, Anugesic HC, and Germaloids pads fitting, and a lot of cleaning up afterwards! Nuff said!
& Into the kitchen, and started to feel a little philophobic for some reason that was not known to me. 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 universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! I was soon sorry I mentioned my getting-accustomed to using the new walking stick. I got tangled up with it and knocked over the stuff on the draining board onto the floor as I attempted to retrieve the situation. Pee’d off with myself Mode Adopted!
I decided it would be a stay indoors to try and catch-up with the graphicalisationing.
Got the computer on, and was really irked, excruciatingly annoyed again, I still hated myself for having the tussle with the pots and losing the altercation. When…
So, I got the kettle on, took the medications, finding out that I had not taken last night’s dosages. Unsure what to do about this. I was dithering and shilly-shallying with uncertainty. Oh, I grew more and more wee’d-off with myself as the day went on! Finally deciding, but uncertain about if it was a good option, I took the morning med’s, and just the 1½ Warfarins, and the Simvastatin. Made the mug of tea. And then I jiggled the handwashing around, to assist it in drying. I had both airers on the go. The stand-up and the flat one. The jammie bottoms were the ones that needed more help than the towel, shirt and socks to dry.
I took a photo through the unwanted nor liked new kitchen through the with the thick-famed, letting the wind in when closed, light & view-blocking, window. I used the Nikon camera because I had worked out how to get the Aperture priority setting on. At night or in the dark, it automatically gives a highlighted picture, that I like
I returned to the computer, find Mr Fries connection had returned – the system was so slow but working! Which will probably mean a pay-rise for him. Humph!
I pressed on, and after about five hours, I got the updating done! Phew! Got it posted off, and went on the WordPress reader. A lot on there today.
I spent many hours doing graphics for page tops etc. I must have spent six hours on these jobs. Thoughts and Day of’s even got a couple of templates made in advance, but I was feeling weary now. Made a start on this blog, but it was getting late. I made a brew, and the sky looked terrific up there.
I made the nosh. Gammon ham, baked beans with added BBQ sauce, a sourdough baguette, lemon yoghourt and a tiny Cox’s apple. Took the medications with the meal. All good the stuff! (Not the medications, off course, Hehe!) Even the little apple was tasty, the sourdough great! The fooder was a bit of a feast really. Flavour rating was 8.5/10. Slurp!
The wee-weeing seemed to have dried up today? And Little Inchies fungal lesion was leaking odd bits of blood, I had to sort things out and change PPs a few times during the day. But Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were kind to me. And not a single Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine from the leg either! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
I got the handwashing sorted and hung to dry. And yet again, the fingers, hand and arm lost nerve sensations, and I dropped some washing as I was taking it to be hung over the heater, it fell on the drainer, knocking the same stuff over that I did earlier! Got it cleaned all picked up and sorted. But Anne Gyna was not happy about the bending down again, and let me know. Boy, did she!
I did the pot washing, stripped and got into the night attire, and settled into the £300, second-hand, imitation not-working recliner that Brother-inLaw Pete broke while was stealing my valuables when I was in the stroke hospital. To watch a Hustle DVD.
But things didn’t go to plan. (Nowt new there, then!) The DVD player would load the film, but not play it? So, being so tired, I just couldn’t cope with trying to sort it out and switched to the TV. I checked the programmes and began to watch an Interceptor episode. Falling asleep at the first set of advertisements. Zzz!
I sprang awake, thinking it was morning, and being in need of a Porcelain Throne Evacuation backed up my thinking. Out of the recliner, stubbed the damned toe en route to the wet room, and sat there for ages waiting for something to move or happen! I whistled, silently sang a song, tried doing a crossword and dreamt of being young and fit again, all before the motion began – again of its own accord, I had no control of the action. I thought at one stage, I was going to burst open, such was the magnitude of the escaping content. Less bleeding this time though. I felt exhausted?
I went gingerly and with bowed legs, not easy with using the walking stick that, to the kitchen to make a brew! This is when I realised I’d only been asleep for about an hour. Seeing the might view out of the window, and reading the clock, gave me a clue as to the time. Hahaha! Twit! I took three snaps of the horizon, all in different settings on the Nikon camera. But blown if I could see much difference?
Of course, I wrote down the settings, but can I find them? No!
I climbed back into the not-working-at-the-moment recliner-less recliner and did my best to nod-off. But it took a while!
00:35hrs. Woke again without the need for the Throne. But an imitation wee-wee was taken, of the RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) variety. Once again, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna started off being so kind to me. The right side, all of it, legs, fingers, hands, arm and shoulder, were giving me the odd shakings, and the fingertip nerves were on and off in the sending messages to the brain, stakes.
The bucket had hardly been used again. I grabbed the stick, out of the £300 second-hand, horrendously tatty, beige coloured, c1968 recliner, used the bucket, and wobbled off to the kitchen. Where I took this shot of the morning view. Took the medications, made a brew, and by then, the Porcelain Throne was needed, so off to the wet room. The knees in decent form, but Arthur itis is a cunning enemy, and toys with me, you know. Haha!
Worra session it was too! There was not a lot of areas that weren’t bleeding! The poo, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the nose. Why? No idea, other than Harold’s piles of course. And it was another ginormous evacuation again. A good cleaning-up of the affected areas, then I disinfected the bucket.
A good wash, and back to the nearly cold mug of tea. And took it with me to the computer. The need to get things done as quickly as I could, prompted by my need to leave really early today, to catch the bus into town for the After-Stroke Physio session. (I was not feeling up to walking there today) Not that I had a lot of confidence or willingness to go at all after last weeks farcicalisationalistic four hours of pain! Hehehe!
I got the updating finished for the Sunday blog (Five-hours later!), then started this one going.
Hunger pangs arrived, and I had some cornflakes and nibbled a few biscuits.
Closed everything down, and got the ablutions tended to. Which were a pleasant surprise for me; with only a few dropsies, a winning battle against the sock-glide as well! But the bleeding from the rear-end continues. So, I added a pad in the PPs, just to be on the safe side. Off course, this will mean embarrassing lumps and bulges showing at the After-Stroke Physio session. But that can’t be helped.
Readied things for the trip. Heavy warm coat on (I wish I’d put the gloves on, now!) Then checked taps, doors, lights etc. were all okay. To the door, and the uncertainty rose, had I checked the wet room taps and heater, the stove? With my minds insecurities, fears, and ambivalence, I have to accept as a part of my beinghood and psyche nowadays. Sad as it is. I had no choice but to do another tour around to recheck again. Humph!
All okay, I set off, down in the elevator, which were now both working!
It was flaming cold in there this morning, and the nose began to run, a sneeze and a cough, was followed by a rather alarming involuntary escapage of wind from the rear-end!
As cold as I thought it was in the lift, it was far worse outside! Brrr! Shudder!
I took this photo of a car windscreen as I hobbled by it on Winchester Street on my way to the bus stop. By Jiminy! Winter is arriving now!
There were 14 minutes until the bus was due. So I decided to hobble down the hill, to the earlier bus stop, thus helping me to keep the body a little warmer.
But the walk took me a little longer than I had planned. Due to the obstreperousness of the three-wheeled-walker, and its determination to topple over! (It’s never liked being used downhill) But I managed to control it, I think the few silently-voiced curse words that issued from my mind, might have helped. Hahaha! When I got to the stop, the bus came within a minute or so. Catching this earlier bus helped. It didn’t get anywhere near as full, and the later one does.
I arrived in town and dropped off, going into the Poundland Store. I came out with the trolley bag full, and two carrier bags hanging on the three-wheeler bars. That reminds me, I have not given this trolley a name yet, I’ll have a think about it. I gingerly tested out the handling qualities of Three-Wheeled Tricia Trolley? (A bit long for a name innit?) In these bags were: Flying saucers, mould remover, diaries, nibbles for the bag, and a selection of sarnies for the After-Stroke clan.
I limped, always weary as Three-Wheeled Tricia was wobbling a bit with the uneven weight distribution of the bags hanging in the handlebars. I got through the Victoria Centre (Mall) to the Tesco Store. After a good sniff around, I came out with some Puff Pastry fingers, biscuits for the Stroke clan, apples and a packet of rice. Paid the lady, and went to a table to redistribute the bags again. Not much room left anywhere for anything else now.
But I still departed and walked over to the Bargain Store on Milton Street. Where I purchased a little bottle of Texan BBQ sauce, a packet of Potato biscuits and a bottle of washing up liquid. I paid the lady and had to redistribute the things in the bag to get these things bought into them – unfortunately, I left the washing-up liquid on the side, and forgot to put it in the bag! What a schlimazel!
I’ve put the Street Art came I across, on my precarious trot with the trolley, from Trinity Square to the meeting hall for the crippling After-Stroke exercises.
Trinity Square
Goldsmith Street near the University
I had arrived slightly early, so I got myself in a position away from the wind, to wait in, on Goldsmith Street, opposite the UNiversity. Just nipping out now and then, to take these photos as I sheltered.
Main University building
Nonchelant Pavement Cyclist, Goldsmith Street
Goldsmith Street - Comical looking Pavement Cyclist.
I hobbled, hazardously with Three-Wheeled Tricia doing her own thing, to Chaucer Street, and got in the Church Hall.
There were five other patients in there, sat on chairs in the middle of the room, and I shouted a hearty ‘Good morning all!’ Then went around each one of them, then the two nurses, and gave a special hello to them. The atmosphere was definitely a low-key one. Which mt EQ warned me of, things would not go well! I put the nibbles on the sink counter, and rejoined the clan of, what can I say? Unenthusiastic Stroke-Survivors. It was so cold in there, too! That may have had some effect on the folks rather, erm… downbeat mood?
The exercises were deliberately rushed through, by Oberstgrúppenfhreressess Tasmin, in an effort to help us keep warmer. As expected, every exercise involving bending of the knees was too painful, and I skimmed over what I should have been doing, guiltily, I might add.
I was enjoying doing all the others, though, and heartily did my bestest with them. Doing the step-ups, I turned to pass comment on the new pictures the kids had done on the stairs wall; And got the impression most people were looking at the rear-bulge in my pants! It is possible it was only my imagined view. But a feeling that they were laughing a bit with each other about it prevailed.
The gang adorned their outer clothing as soon as the exercises finished, including me. The fact that none of them seemed interested in talking to me when we had the break disturbed me. Had I imagined this? It is possible, I suppose. I was feeling disturbed and uncomfortable. Imagination? Lack of Confidence? Self-consciousness? Modestness? Self-effacement? The bulging PPs? Or a combination of these things, perhaps. I continued as if all was normal. The sarnies I took, went down well with a couple of the team, not with the other four though. Which sapped the spirits a little more. Also, we now being only a party of six, which I believe started off as fifteen, many had fallen by the wayside, which was sad in itself but told a hidden tale to me.
I told them and the Generalfeldmarschallesses that I was going half-an-hour early and explained that it was to catch the bus, as finishing at the usual time, gives me an hour to wait for the next one. And I needed to go home sharpishly. I did not mention the blood I could feel pouring from my rear-end, off-course. The response was one of, ‘So what!’ Or was this also my imagination?
I departed, and miserably made my way to the bus stop on Queen Street, aware that maybe things were already showing through the trousers?
Crossing over the pedestrian lights o Upper Parliament Street, took this snap from the island in the middle of the road. I go. It shows the difficulty the buses have in getting through the everyday traffic.
Down to the bus stop, and a lady at the shelter had a natter with me. Nice that!
Penny from Woodthorpe Court got on and sat next to the lady, and we had a little chinwag en route home. I managed to stay in the side-saddle seat, despite the driver’s determination to tip me off of it! Hehe! I also managed somehow, to nod-off apparently, so Penny told me later. Tsk!
We all alighted at Winwood Heights, and Penny and I walked through the Winwood link-passage back to the shiveringly cold Woodthorpe Court. Both lifts were still in operation, too! I tried to make sure my rear-end did was not seen as much as possible. Farewells to Penny as she got out of the lift, and I hastily made my way to the flat. Trolley and me inside, and off in the wet room to assess the rear-end. It was not as bad as it felt though. Yes, well-bloodied, but it had not been torrenting out, thankfully. I toileted, cleaned up, medicated things, and got the jammie-bottoms on, took the other clothes to be hand-washed and freshened up. Wrung-out and hung to dry, I later moved them on to the warm airers. Got the fodder put away.
The meal was started being prepared. An easy to make one tonight, well, afternoon. Chips, a sliced tomato, baked beans and vegetarian sausage with BBQ sauce added and some Aldi wholemeal part-baked cobs. And a decent meal too! I got it served up, and as I did so, the humming, blowing noise that is always around the flat/building, started to get more obtrusive! Grr!
The meal was consumed while I began to watch a Hustle DVD. A most delightfully enjoyed nosh it was! A flavour-rating of 7.9/10!
I realised at this stage, that the wee-weeing had been so much less today, and wondered why. Just thought I’d mention it!
I was really enjoying watching the old series one Hustle DVD, despite my knowing what was coming up and the outcome of the story. Hehe!
02:10hrs: Trying to sleep was abandoned. After a night of sleeplessness, unit a ten minute-spell, when I did nod-off and had a nightmare of nightmares! A phantasma that consisting of just about everything I have done wrong in my life drifting through it! Misinterpretations, boo-boos, failures, errors, bad choices, goofs, faux pas, over and underestimations, inadvertencies, snafus, aberrations, and misdiagnoses. The dream even made me feel guilty about the typographical errors brought on by the peripheral neuralgia and failing memory! I had a hatred of myself and my actions, toying with my conscience! I was well-pleased when I woke up and thought it best not to risk my falling back to sleep and returning to that worryingly lurid and grotesque nightmare. It’s almost unheard of, a night-dream getting to me, but this one did! Oy Gevalt!
The aches and pains were not to bad as I jiggled things about a bit. The breathing was a struggle, and I soon found that the hands and fingers were going to cause me a few dropsies today, as they were losing sensitivity on and off, to touch straight away. However, lack of too much aggravation from Arthur Itis, Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna, levelled the pain-playing field, so’s to speak, somewhat.
Getting my short, stocky but flabby body out of the £300, c1968, rickety recliners, was unwontedly, almost hassle-free! A wee-wee urge developed as soon as I got into a semi-stood up position. And, when I grabbed the stock and got the few paces to the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket), it had hardly been used overnight? And what was passed, really was, almost nothing more than a few fluid ounces, and that was all gently sprayed everywhere but the bucket, by the INHBT (I-needn’t-have-bothered-trickling) wee-wee! I reckon it must be, as I thought yesterday, a urine infection come on.
I cleaned things up and went to change PPs in the wet room. When conveniently, the Porcelain Throne was needed, and it was a good job I was in the shower room at the time. Or else I would never have got to the Throne in time, from anywhere further away! Phew! This time, the evacuation was harder in every sense, and still a lot of it! Ah, well, all gone now. Haha! Washed up, changed PPs, and off to the kitchen.
I took the medications, and made a super-tasty brew of Gelengettie tea!
Another wee-wee was called for, and I used the GPWWB, to avoid spraying and decorating the wet room and cleaning it again! I made sure that any splashes and or spray would not miss the bucket and passed a UPWTWW (Unwilling-Painful-Weak-Trickling) style wee-wee.
Computer on, and visited the WordPress reader. Then, I began updating the Sunday post. With many nerve-end failures and a few pathetic painful wees, and making mugs of tea in between, hours later, I’d got it done. But, with many addlepated moments of concern!
The humming, droning constant wind-like noise all around the block, was more intrusive than ever this morning. I became increasingly iracundulous and irritated by it!
The beautiful, highly-desirous, kind, wonderful phlebotomy nurse is due this morning or lunchtime to take the blood for the Warfarin INR testing. Heart flutters & and hatred of my being too old! ♥
The itching in the leg started again. Out of interest, I looked up ‘Causes of itching under the skin legs’. Ahem! This is what I found on the web: Dracunculous: Guinea Worm Disease: The female can grow to 31 inches! Sorry I looked now! Haha!
Another wee-wee and another brew of tea made, then back on the computer. I made a start on this blog. I got up to here, and decided to have some breakfast, but what? I had a search around for something I fancied. Tea and biscuits again, I suppose? I’ll have some of the Manner Lemon wafers, and then try out the new ankle support straps. (Failure yet!)
By gum, life is vibrant and contentment-ridden, innit? Hehe!
I took two photos of the same area, the first one in Aperture plus mode, the second on Auto. Neither was brilliant.
Off to the wet room to sort the ablutions out. As for my forecast of the dropsies expected, I was was way-out. The only ones were the toothbrush (2) and the razor (1). Smug-Mode-Engaged!
I made another brew, had an INHBT wee-wee, and back on the computer and CorelDraw. To try and create some graphics before the Angel arrives.
Who did come minutes later, a different Nurse, nice lady, who was in a bit of a rush, with us being down to one lift only again in the flats, and she had other patients to see as well yet. I thanked her and wished her well, and got things ready for my trip to go bargain hunting at the ‘Affordable’ Food Shop, on Derby Road. I read about it on the Evening Post site and could see some small jars of Hoisin sauce in one of the pictures, half-price.
I spent a while double-checking, to reassure myself that I’d left everything safe, and set out to the lift to go down to the OBergruppenfüreress Warden’s Holding Cell Office, to see if they were interested in having the Mexican flavoured rice so as not to waste the second packet. With only one lift, I had a long wait for it to arrive. When it did, there were two resident, man and wife, in the cage, and then me with my trolley walker, then another bloke got in, and then off one floor lower. Decent couple the new folks. We chatted and had a laugh. I alighted the elevator and limped through the link corridor the Warden’s Interrogation Office. No one in, they’ll be out working. I pressed on and out to the bus stop. It was cold again. Not that it bothered me, I was well wrapped up, and having an enjoyable chinwag and moaning session with other tenants at the stop. On the bus, and I managed to interest Cyndy in the flavoured rice. Cyndy and Eric were not on the bus for long as they got off on Mapperley Tops, but we managed a natter, all the same.
En route to town, I nearly lost my grip on the side-saddle seat a few times. Obviously a Formula One fan, this driver. Hehe!
As I got off of the bus on Queen Street and turned to go up the hill, I suffered a Dizzy Dennis attack. The worst one in a long time. It took a good few minutes of my leaning against an electrical box before Dennis cleared. Afterwards, I was a little weary, but all seemed fine.
I walked along Upper Parliament Street to the big traffic island with Derby Road. The sun was out, but nit very warm with it, and the people of Nottingham seemed to be in a generally good mood. No policemen were seen at all, and the pins and Arthur Itis were doing very well for me!
To get onto Derby Road the side I need for where the shop was, I had to tackle three sets of pelican lights. None of them gave me enough time to get over the road before they changed to green for the traffic. Much to the driver’s annoyance, I even got a pap and dirty look from one of them! Oy Vay!
In an island between the maze of crossings, I took a couple of shots of the Cathedral.
I limped up the hill, coping well with the trolley for once. My mind was on those Hoisin snf black bean sauce bottles I’d seen in the Nottingham Post site earlier – but: Bother me! They do not open on Monday and Tuesdays. So, on tomorrow’s visit to the After-Stroke Physio session, I still can’t get to shop there! Glubbledangsoddit!
I was phlegmatic about the situation, though, it was almost as if apanthropinisation had taken me over. I just took this photo and calmly turned around, back down the Derby Road hill. Which is where the problems came into play: The three-wheeler-walker does not like going downhill! I got to the Albert Hall junction and had to go up a steep kerb, that I managed, but as I set off again, the trolley went over after hitting a broken paving slab sticking up! I manoeuvered myself somehow, so as to avoid going over with it, though. Innit amazing the things you keep in your three-wheeler-walker bag? I noticed this as I struggled a bit, to retrieve the comprehensive selection of hand-out nibbles, pen, crossword book, an apple, receipts etc. and bits and pieces that had accrued, and spilt out onto the pavement! Hehehe!
As I got into the City Centre, this food-delivery ‘Herbert’ all but hit me me as he belted by. I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise to him for my unthinkingly getting in his way with my three-wheeled trolley-guide-walker. If the gentleman is reading this, I’d like to apologise for walking on the pedestrian footpath, thus blocking the distinctively tall, fit, young man’s way. If he’d like to get in touch, I can arrange for a meeting with Clive and Gary for him. I’d like that!
The state of the Slab Square was chaotic, messy and unattractive in the extreme!
Worra a mess, in the Slab Square again!!
Worra a mess, in the Slab Square again!
After the close-call with the food-delivery cyclist ‘Herbert’, I was in a niggly mood and made my way to the L9 bus stop on Queen Street, taking this shot of King Street, on the way.
The driver of the bus when it arrived, was the same Michael Shumacker impersonator again. So, I was back at Winwood Heights in no time. Sore bottom and bruised knees, from the side-saddle seat-keeping on, struggle. Argh!
I made my way back through Winwood Court, through the link tunnel and back to Woodthorpe Court, and up in the lift, still only one working. Seeing, not a soul! Oh, sorry, no. A bloke got in the lift, he went up to the 13th floor, a decent sort.
I found the diurnal sunshine bursting through the windows, albeit a cold one. I thought I’d nip out on the balcony to take some snaps of the amazing looking sky.
Bootiful!
Bootiful!
As I was getting back indoors, I noticed a right mess on the boarding planks on the balcony.
Worra mess! Wot is it?
Worra mess! Wot is it?
Worra mess! Wot is it?
Worra mess! Wot is it?
Much detritus had fallen in-between the holes in the planks. Chips and crumbs of cement or concrete, insects, bird-poo and other unrecognisable, undefined droppings and rubbish! We never had this problem with the old balcony, the wind just blew it away! Haha!
I had a wee-wee, another weak, put hurtfull RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying) effort. Washed up, did the handwashing and hung it to dry. Got the chips in the oven, and peas and hot dog sausage in the saucepan.
Off to the Porcelain Throne – Oh dearie me! Another fair bit of ensanguining! Washed-up again, and was about to take the nosh I’d prepared and just served up on the plate for consumption…
And then the landline chirped and flashed! It was Brother-in-law and valuables-stealing from the flat while I was in the hospital, Pete. (I’m beginning to believe Sister Jane now, who told me Pete had made a drone, [He’s an electrical genius] so he can see when I’m showering, sleeping or eating, thus knowing the best time to call me, to cause maximum hassle, disruption and disturbance! Hehe!) We had a serious natter for a while about things, interspersed with the odd sarcasm, insult and joke.
Perfect timing from the lad, the nosh was ruined, the chips and sausages had gone cold!
So, I did some recooking of more chips, threw the first ones away, and reheated the sausages in water.
Then the doorbell chimed. It was an engineer calling to do the fire alarm checks. The hallway one was fine. But he was having problems getting the smoke alarm in the kitchen to go activate. The chap got it finished and departed, and I took the burnt chips out of the oven, turned down the heat on the reheating up sausages. Then got some more chips in the oven (Third try!)
At last, I got the meal into the front room and sat down in the recliner and turned on the TV to watch a Hustle DVD…
The front door chimed out again! It was Josie, returning the cutlery, plate and tray from yesterday’s nosh. At least she said she enjoyed it, that made me feel betterer.
I got around to eating the nosh at long last. Ha-ha! Despite all the rehashing of the ingredients, the feast went down well with me. A Flavour-Rating of 7/10, was good for it, after all the messing about.
00:10hrs: Woke for once, not needing a heavy-duty visit to the wet-room as my first task. But a wee-wee, yes! (Yet). I dismounted the Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, recliner, got my balance, then the four-pronged-stick, and took the few paces to the EGPB (Emergency Grey PlasticBucket), for a BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) wee-wee.
Off to the kitchen, washed the hands, and took the morning medications. Then needed another wee-wee, this time of the ELPJL (Extra-Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) variety. Took the EGPB to empty and sanitise.
Then got the computer on, and went on the WordPress Reader. But within minutes, another wee-wee, back to the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode. Followed ten minutes later by a WYSAO (Weak-Yet-Spraying-All-Over) wee-wee. Variety is the spice of life!
Got this post started, then did the updating of the Saturday blog.
Worryingly, it is a weekend, and Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet is as fast as it has been all week! Of course, this is not saying much, cause it was still slow! And early in the day too. Many users will be drunk yet, so I’ll know when they recover and get on the web, if it dies on me again, like every single one of the last three weekends, and two days during the week gone!
The thirst I’ve had on me this week is just as bad. As is the wee-weeing. During doing the updating of the Saturday post, not many photos, and the fingers were not playing up much, so it only took a couple of hours so. The mugs of tea must have been four, and the wee-wees five, I reckon. Every one different. I’m not kidding! UWTWW (Unwilling-Weak-Trickling-Wee-Wee), ELDOP (Extra-Long-Drawn-Out-Persistent), RWPS (Reluctant-Weak-Painful-Spraying), ELPJL (Extra-Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) and the last one of the ELPSOAO (Extra-Long-Powerful-Spraying-Out-All-Over) style! I feel worn-out! Hehe!
I got the post sent off, and visited the WordPress Reader section, not a lot on it today, but, off course, it’s early yet. Off for yet another RWPS wee-wee, and made a brew.
Then after making the brew, off to the Porcelain Throne in such a sudden hurry, I nearly tripped over the four-pronged walking stick, Huh! Saly for me, it was another messy performance. I’m glad I’ve got plenty of toilet rolls and antiseptic disinfectant in stock! It took me a while, and some effort to clean things up after the event. For even it was! I thought things had gone as they have been doing, everything over quickly. But, oh, no! I went through three separate evacuations one after the other! Each time using the tissue roll, thinking that was that. How the plumbing coped with getting rid of things, was amazing! This, and the wee-wee, thirst situation was not all bad, mind.
It seems to have fooled Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and even to a lesser degree, Peripheral Neuralgia Nigel, for all three were being far less bothersome than they have been the last few days! Mind you, certain areas behind are getting very sore and tender now, with Haemorrhoid Harold just now, starting to give me a bit of bother, I’ll put some cream on. Off to the wet room.
Oh, dearie me, and my big gob! I got in the room and dropped the jammie-bottoms, cleaned things, dried things and was about to get the tube of hydrocortisone butyrate 2.5%, and saw blood trickling down the leg, and on my hands! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were pouring it out! I spent a long time getting the hæmoglobin to stop. The waste basket looked like a bin in the hospital operating theatre after an operation. Hehehe! After what seemed an aeon or so, I got around to doing Harold’s problem, and I’ve never had this cream sting before, but it did today!
Then I needed yet another wee-wee, so used the porcelain pan. It was of the URPM (Ultra-Resistant-Painful-Mode), and barely a sprinkle or two. But, it was such a bright yellow colour, and so thick, it floated on top of the water in the bowl! Yes, another infection! It always happens at the weekend, dunnit? I’ll ask the drop-dead gorgeous Polish phlebotomy nurse on Monday, to phone the doctor for me. I hope Dr Vindla will send a prescription electronically to the chemist for me. I assume it will be the antibiotics again. Still, this explains my thirst and persistent wee-weeing.
With my now extremely-tender and sore bottom, I returned to the computer to make a start on this blog.
Then, amidst many interruptions for wee-wees and making a brew, I got the blog as far as here, about four hours later.
I got Josie’s noshing requirements and had some Biscuits and another cuppa. Dropping may items as I went along. Spit! The hands and finger nerves were losing touch sense far too often for my liking, now. But, as the Doctor said, there is nothing that can be done about it! At least it was in short sessions.
I got Josie’s umami-cheesy potato meal finished, and delivered it to her door, dead-on-time again, at 12:00hrs. She liked the look of it, but the photo I took of the meal, formed part of the ‘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 universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, and somehow escaped from the camera SD card? (Snafued again!)
Here are some of the items that ‘dropsied’ on me.
Cutlery
More cutlery, far too many to picture them all!
These I dropped, doing the washing up after cooking
Thrice dropped!
7 / 6
After a little natter with Josie, (I did not want her cheesy potatoes, mushroom or petit pois to get cold), or the can of Jack Daniels to get warm. I wish her all the best and returned to the tatty, untidy, icy, flat, for yet another Porcelain visit and wee-wee.
I had to do the ablutions, with more dropsies happening, and the distinctly unpalatable aroma lingering from the Throne session! Hehe! The worst one was the showerhead, it landed right on my toe! But I didn’t swear. (Lie-Mode-Adopted!) There was the toothpaste, toothbrush, flannel and razors that did repeat performances of the dropsies, as well as these ‘Specials’ photographed afterwards.
Showerhead, it landed smack on my corn-toe!
Body spry
I got dressed, no socks on, not that I was scared of the sock-glide or anything like that, of course. (Lie-Mode-Still-Engaged!).
As it was not raining, I decided to visit the Winwood Court rooftop, to take some snaps. All prepared, wrapped up well (but no socks on of course), and I set out, taking the black bags to the waste-chute en route.
Down and along the link-corridor into the Winwood Court lobby area. I could hear voices coming from the big room, so some of the clan were out socialising.
Up in the lift to the third floor, and had a nosey out of the elevator door, taking a photograph of the view to my left. I also made a picture to my right, but that one even ended up as part of the Mysteries of Winwood Heights, that lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination! As that shot also disappeared from the camera card!
Rooftop floor and out into the amazingly practical Winwood Court restroom and fully equipped kitchen. (It’s no use being jealous!) Where, for the first time, I met someone. It was not a resident, but a prospective client lady up there with daughter in the toilet and the lady waiting for her. She had come to view the place and decide if she wanted to move in or not. I had a welcoming natter with her, and she warned me of the high-winds out on the Al Fresco area. We both had three-wheel-walkers with us, and we laughed about if she did move into Winwood Court. Joking about our both setting up a jet-wash service for people returning home with mud and detritus covered walker-wheels, and we could become partners in a new Walker-wheel-cleaning service. Hehe!
I went out into the roof, and the gal was right, it was a bit nippy, so I didn’t stay long, and was soon back indoors, after taking a few pictures.
The leak-blockage not repaired yet
The clouds looked wonderful
No rain for a while, the board were drying out on the Al Fresco area
The ladies daughter was just emerging from the WC. And I wished her a good day and hoped she will decide to move in.
Down the lift, and met Roy, having a rest on the foyer settee. I offered him the nibble bag from the trolley, and at first, he declined. I reminded him that he was a wife called Angela, who might want a nibble! Hehehe! He picked out a Penguin bar for her as he laughed!
Back to the apartment, the oh so cold flat, compared to the comforting warmth of new Winwood Court.
Got my nosh sorted out. Put the rice in the saucepan, added the machine double-cross-sliced tomatoes, peas, basil and mushrooms, and what I thought was a packet of Hoisin sauce, and cooked them all together, continually stirring the mixture. For some reason, it looked and tasted wrong, compared to the last similar dish I had of this. I soon realised I had put in a packet of the black bean sauce by mistake! Not very good at all, but I still ate the lot. I also forgot to put in the frankfurters! A flavour-rating of only 4/10 could be given. A most disappointing effort. Spit! I was really-hungry as well!
Did some more pot washing, and settled into the recliner, turned on the TV, and hoped for sleep! Fool!
00:50hrs: I woke, not being able to miss the signs of my nocturnal nibbling having taken place! Most of them were spread over my bulging stomach, crumbs in the belly-button area, the Manner Lemon Wafer pot on the floor, empty I might add! Obloquy-Mode-Engaged! As I was taking the mess in, the urge to use the Porcelain Throne arrived. (I think this has happened on my waking for about four days or so now?)
I extracted my weighty lump of a bouncing-with-fat body from the recliner. Not an easy task nowadays! Without any complaints from Arthur Itis or Anne Gyna. Caught my balance, grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, and muddled my way as fast as I could, (the need was quickly growing stronger) and got myself to and sat, with a thud, on the Throne! Eurgh! Worra Messy Evacuation! But, bloodless and not painful, so that’s summat to cheer me up! Had a good clean around, and into the kitchen.
Where I found I had an itch on the high part of the right leg and had to force myself to resist scratching, until I discovered what was causing it, first thought was a boil coming perhaps? There were no signs of anything that might be causing it near the area? The old ankle-ulcer scar had a new inner-core forming. There were plenty, many new blood-papsules. And it felt like I had worms squiggling around under the skin? 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 universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination!’ Tsk!
I made a tasty brew of tea, took the medications, and had another wee-wee, of the rarely known lately, annoying INHBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Trickling) mode. I thought while I’m in the kitchen, I’d get the crock-pot going and add the garden peas in the saucepan.
So, I carefully sliced the mushrooms, got some oregano and salt in the water, and added the fungi to slow cook.
I was reaching for the camera when I noticed I’d imprudently turned on the heat under the saucepan on the stove! I pulled the pan off of the ring and turned off the heat. I got the camera and was about to open the window, to take some snaps when I noticed the burn mark on the back of my hand. I had no pain at all, until the eyes saw the wound for itself, that it started hurting! The Peripheral Neuralgia had not got the message about the burn to the brain! Another side-effect of my many ailments, sorry, issues! Haha!
I abandoned the half-open window and went to get some cream from the drawer, and then clouted my elbow on the counter corner! The nerves were working then, Hahaha! It didn’t-half make my jump! I got the cream out but decided it wasn’t bad enough to warrant its use, and I returned it…
Then, could I find where I’d left the camera in the mini-fiasco? No! Well, not for ages anyway. It was in plain view on the window inner-ledge. I must have passed it by no end of times on my marathon ferreting rootling around search! My earlier Obloquy-Mood had turned into a Disconcerting-Flustered-Perplexing-Mode! With a hint of confidence-escapage, and a lot of self-disgust! Disconcerting-Flustered-Perplexing mood thrown in!
Then finally got the photo’s taken.
The first picture facing down towards the car park on Chestnut Walk. Which came out badly. I didn’t think I was shaking, but I must have been, I suppose. The finger-ends didn’t feel like they were struggling, but when I looked at them closely, they seemed to almost what looked like shivering, but only at the tip-ends? Somehow or other, the second shot of the straight-ahead view, came out fantastic. It even caught some of the rain that was drizzling! I wanted to give up trying, but soon pulled myself together… well, assembled various bits close to each other. Hehehe!
I got on the computer at long last. Bloodied, hurt, frustrated, and ashamed. The fingertip nerve-endings were pretty kind to me then, but got worse later on and became an extra annoyance. I kept on with the task and eventually got it updated and sent off to WordPress, despite the odd…
That thankfully, it only lasted for a few minutes, and no resetting required to get it back on, it did it of its own accord! I made several mugs of tea, and I took had to take variously-moded wee’s while doing the Friday blog. Why, though? I have an insatiable, unslakable, gannet-like thirst, and wee-weeing all the time! I tell myself to stop drinking, you fool! But the desire, need, almost craving for tea, seems irresistible? I do not wish for Pepsi, orangeade, or anything liquid, other than thick-black-strong tea? Have they put a drug in it? Have I caught an unknown disease? Will Burnley ever win against Chelsea? Harf-Harf!
I made yet another mug of tea (I must stop!) and had a shockingly vicious wee-wee of the LHLB (Long-Hosepipe-Like-Blasting) style.
Well, it’s getting on, and I must get some templates made up. But first, I have to create some Dedicated Days, Thoughts, and Page top graphics, which will likely leave me no time to make the drafts today. It’s hard work!
Five wee-wees, three cups of tea, and six hours later, I’m done in. And, beside and as well, I’ve only got one Thoughts graphic done. Two page top one’s and three Dedicated days pictures made up! I will really have to consider packing in doing them!
The mushroom in the crock-pot is nearly done, I’ve got everything ready for the final cooking session. But I must get the template for tomorrow’s dairy done now. Then I can get the nosh done, and settle to get some rest, if not sleep.
A long day tomorrow, with the graphics still to be done. Josie’s nosh to cook and deliver and the new Physio exercises are due to be started.
I’ll make a start on Sunday’s template now… see yers in a bit, providing I stay awake, Making so many errors and mistakes. Grumph!
And it’s still pouring down with rain!
The nosh was prepared and served up.
The rice, mushrooms, tomatoes, and franks with the seasoning, went down a treat! Flavour-Rating 8.2/10.
Washed the pots, and got settled into the Xyrophobia-suffering, con-man, flat-breaker, crook, 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, (I still haven’t got them back yet five-months later), £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, in hopes of getting some sleep.
But it was just the same as the previous few nights. Nod-off, wake, pass wind, Nod-off, wake, burp, released wind, nod-off, have a wee-wee, fall over the arm of the…
