05:20hrs: I woke; well, I wasn’t asleep really, just the odd fitful half-dose, with my rear end hanging off the cushion out of the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner. .
A bad night again for sleeping.
I was so tied last night I felt sure that my bosky would force me to get some respite and rest in the dorm of sleep. But, No!.
My friendly, compassionate neighbour above had seen to that. Two gays now, of constant banging, ta[[ing, drilling, clunking, with very elite respite; I hoped to get to sleep early, but that was a no chancer, as he started giving the hammer a bashing. Fair enough, he gave his last mechanical concerto just after ten o’clock, but I was on edge after so many days and hours of putting up with it, and I feared he may start again at any time.
He is making some things to give to the children he likes to support and visit, for Christmas, I believe.
I usually get his banging away every day of the year from Herbert (Nickname). But the last two days have been horrendously noisy for him. Doing my health no good. Even the Carers and Nurse Hristina heard him tap-tapping away relentlessly.
More so now that I’ve no Omeprazole medications to counter the pains from Anne Gyna. It seems that when the Doctor told me to double the dosages of the caps;e, she somehow forgot to tell the chemist! It got slowly worse, and no chance of getting any. Might call 111 later.
Had poor not gone sick, this would not have happened, I’m sure. It’s Richard that controls the Prescriptions. Still, excellent news on that situation; they tell me that Richard will be returning to work on Monday. I hope he’s not coming back too soon; as much as I am pleased about it, I hope he is not returning too early and gets himself poorly again. Crossed fingers!
Let’s assess the problems I’ve had to endure these last few days: or should I?
Maybe best not to…
Go on, then; I’ll make a list on CorelDraw and see how it reads. (Perusing engaged) Perusing ended)
Not nice, is it? But self-pity is not the answer! Mind you, I don’t know what the answer is?
I’ve got a little muddled up here. Things may be out-of-chronological timing from here onwards.
Sorry. The stress and pain from Anne Gyna are getting to me.
This photo is, I think, the first one I took this morning.
When I was brewing my first mug of Glengettie tea. I put the milk in and got blotches of manky milk floaters in the mug. Humph!
Threw the milk away and tried the semi-skimmed – same again? Threw that carton away. rinded the bottle and box and got them in the waste bag. Tried the last box of milk, and it seems okay. Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?
I got the health Checks tended to. (Ann Gyna is going to be a bother here; She’s getting more and more painful!
The results, as decreed by the NHS analyser, put me in the Hypertension – Red One Zone. But, so close to being in the High-Normal pink. So that’ll do me.
I see I’ve put the photo above in with the second lot of pictures I’d taken as well. Rather sad, but Anne Gyna has got my mind all over the place now.
When I get this done, I’m going to ring 111 and ask for advice.
He said, forgetting all about doing it afterwards.
I espied in these house shot photos that the frost and bits of snow were spread around liberally.
But you’ll notice the richest house on the block (Last house photo).
That will either be the richest family in Sherwood; who can afford to heat the attic room?
Or an efficient drug dealer den.
Specifically, a cannabis growing factory, with e plants being hidden in the loft and the heating on 23/7.
I wonder if they have rerouted the electricity from next door? Well, you never know! I can’t remember taking the sky one. But that’s not unusual.
My concentration is well-shot now. No notes on the memory pad from here on. Anne Gyna was stirring again.
The beloved neighbour of mine was nowhere near as noisy as the last two days. I don’t think it was my responding to every single noise he made over about three hours by banging back on the tall bookcase cabinet; every time it started tap-tapping, banging or knocking with copied noises with Metal Mickey.
But after around 02:30 hours, things went strangely quiet on the Western Front. Hehehe! He’s probably gone to deliver some of his creations to his children and friends.
, came. Kara took the washing and returned it, putting them away for me ♥.
I went to get something to eat. After a look at what food options I had, I decided on Cottage pie, rosti potatoes, cobs and BBQ sauce. I got settled, the TV on, and took the first bite of the evening meal… Carer Cheeky Charlie arrived to give me the medications. No Omeprazole, of course, and this was the reason for the pains in my chest that had been lingering all day long and getting worse the longer I went without any pain relief from Ailment 19 – Anne Gyna! Charly gave me two extra Paracetamol tablets and Took the waste bag with her as she left for the chute.
I ate the by-now nearly cold meal and still enjoyed it. Flavour-Rating 7/10.
While watching TV. Woke an hour or so later, took a wee-wee, getting bad again. Washed the pots and returned to watch the end of the film; it had about 5 minutes to run
Woke up as the screen credits for the end of the film were showing. Tsk!
And Carer Cheeky Charlie returned to give me the Peptac and check on the taps and stove. I sent to make a brew of Glengettie. Decided to take some evening shots from the kitchenette window.
The first effort was taken hanging out of the window straight down on Chestnut Way, the road and the car park. What looked like a fire engine, or stretched limousine, was, in fact, it was a normal car speeding out of the complex. I hope it wasn’t one being stolen!
A wide view of the horison and lights was taken next.
Not one of my better efforts.
The last photo was taken as I returned to the front room...
Completely forgot about the mug of Glengettie I’d just made.
The TV had been left on, and taking the photo purposely in the dark to ass a bit of mystery to it, I managed to get a .
Settled down and . Moments later, this caught me out somewhat: By what must have been the longest-lasting ever . I had to retrieve the leg from over the arm of the £300, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner.
By when I got up in the morning, I’d sprung awake at least a dozen times and had taken five wee-wees. Advice for Whippersnappers: Sleep is not easy when one wants it, but becomes rife when one doesn’t want it.
Oh, and be prepared to be accompanied in your slumber… or rather, to be awoken from your slumber by ailment 13: each and every night!
I think I had more sleep last night than I have in any week! Sadly, it was all in bits and pieces, broken by being woken and my habit of straying off doing things after I’d needed one of the several wee-wees. Also, some persistent Thought-Storms of an aggressive nature.
But I returned to the doubtful comfort of the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner; after each hobble about, or moving things around for no reason, and rearranging of a food cupboard. Why? I anticipate finding other things that I may well have done in my noctambulations later on.
I lay there, pondering over this and that, and anything and the bowels decided to try and evacuate the inner product of its own accord… There followed a sequence of events that were events that were worthy of the Comedy Sketch of a Year Award. I thank heavens there are no CCTV cameras in this flat!
①: I fumbled and bumbled my way up onto my feet; crumbs, the TV remote and a part-eaten packet of pistachio nuts hit the floor and spread all over the carpet... ②: No time for the waking-up to catch my balance routine, I grabbed Metal-Micky, and on the first imitation step, I found one of the pistachio nuts with my left foot. ③: So, as I crumpled onto the floor, my right knee found another escaped Pistachio nut! ④: I went through some pain getting up again, and was only concerned at that moment with getting to the in time… The narrow hallway walls sustain me getting into the wet room, for Metal Micky was laying somewhere in the front room wherever it was, I’d dropped him in the tumble. ⑤: The fight to get the pyjamas down delayed me and caused more panic; I tore them, in the end, to get them down quicker… ⑥: To no avail, I fear! The bladder and bowels won this one! They both started before my bum got down on the plastic . ⑦: At least things were over quickly, but they left me with I don’t know how long to put right and clean up the wet room, then the exit points had to be cleaned and medicated. Fortunately, I keep a supply of the PPs and large kitchen towels with the Germolene and Germolids to hand in the wet room. Along with the aftershave and plasters to steady any shaving cuts or leaks from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion while I’m doing the ablutions.
I can’t understand why now; no doubt it made sense at the time, but I felt a little smug at coping with these embarrassments and decided to get thedone while I was in there.
The right knee was not in good shape after its attack on the Pistachio nut earlier. Hehe! in shaving, left me using the plasters and the aftershave to stop the bleeding! Little Inchies Lesion was not leaking; all were okay! Oh, and the hair at the lower back of the head come neck is definitely growing again – white! I shaved it off.
After getting things all sorted, new PPs and socks (that were a hell of a job to get them on!) on, The right knee was now very tender! I packed the affected PPs in the disposal bag and returned to get Metal Micky from the recliner room…
When I got back in the room, I thought I’d had burglars! I’d cleared the shelf above the electric fire of all the rubbish, and that had joined the crumbs and food on the carpet! Making it worse, a bottle of disinfectant I keep there for the wee-wee bucket had lost its cap when it got knocked over!
I’d also like to know how I managed to get Metal Micky left right in the corner her the bookcase? I think it would a physical impossibility, surely? Anyway, it was hard enough trying to retrieve it; I had to climb over the many fallen object to get to it – so I used the long picker-upperer. Cunning that, I thought! I got Micky back with the stick and was almost on the verge of congratulating myself as I turned around and against the shredder. Another flipping moment!
I stopped doing everything. And mountaineered my way to the recliner, resisting crying, and just sat down and spoke to myself as calmly as I could… “This is not a good start. Fair enough, the bladder and bowels are out of your control, as are your fingers, feet, legs, shoulder etc… no good getting depressed, mate; it’s just how it is. What you need is some help when things like this happen. I agreed with myself, called myself a pratt, and did my belated balance exercise.
At this point, I noticed the clock… that was on the floor with all the other jetsam and flotsam – I checked with my watch, and they both indicated it was only 04:30hrs! Christ, what time did I get up then?
I swore to take things calmly from here on today. And tackled the mammoth job of cleaning and sorting things out in the room. I’m not saying I didn’t have a few moments of self-pity cause I did feel sorry for myself once or twice. But found the determination to just press on with the sorting. No rushing, doing it quietly. I got something out of it at the end of the task, I’d got three waste bags full of rubbish to go to the chute. Hahaha! Somehow or other, I perked up a smidgeon, too! It was well gone eight O’clock by the time I’d sorted the mess. Then I made a prayer for it not to happen again for a while, please.
It then dawned on me… the Morning Carer had not been yet? Quick as a flash, I realised it was a Saturday, so no fretting. Meridian was very late arriving last Saturday as well. They do have trouble getting staff at the weekend, it seems. Moments later, a call came in through the landline, and it was from Meridian. The lady told me that the Carer was outside and could not get in. I took it as she was outside the building and told her to press the intercom 72 and I could let her in… then I thought I’d better check, and I inquired if she was outside the door or the flats? But the lady did not know. I said I’d get my walking stick and go have a look. Got the Wooden Wilmer stick, and I went to the door. The Carer was outside of the flat door, complaining because she could not get the key lock code to work. I smiled gently, using one of my calming half-smiles, and told her I can’t either! And broke into a broad grin. That did it, I think; I caught her heart! Hahaha! I explained that the door was not locked; sometimes, I forget to unlock it, but not often. If she presses this button, pointing out the door chime, I will hear it, but not anyone knocking on the door. I’m deaf, senile and decrepit, but that can’t be helped. She did larf!I liked her straight away.
Her name was Sinead, not seen before. I think she was from another assignment somewhere else; that’s why she was late, getting me added to her list. Nice gal, we had a little chinwag. She said she’d come again if she got the chance.
Well, I’ve still not done the Health Checks yet, better get them done. The last time I did them later in the day, the figures were down, so here’s hoping.
Well, that didn’t help much, doing it late, did it? Ah, well, as a part of my commitment to resist swearing, feeling sorry for myself and keeping calm, all I can say is: Hey-Ho!
Time to sort out something for dinner; no bother making up my mind today; I’ve a fancy for some chips and a veggie burger! The chips are oven ones that claim to be vegan. looking forward to trying them. and Yet again, the photo I took of the meal has evaporated into the ether! I’d love to know how this happens; cause I took a look at it after shooting it and was pleased with the result. Come the morning, when I uploaded the last few photographs, there it was gone! Grrr! The chips looked very tattie and were thick-skinned, but I did enjoy them all the same. Taste-Rating: 6.5/10.
Arrived, it was Sharon; I knew her name the second she told me after I asked her what it was! (Dementia Doreen again!) She didn’t stay long, but we managed a mini-natter before she chose her treats and departed.
Washed the pots, locked the door and a rinse, and made for the warmth of the rickety c1966 recliner. I feared that I may not be able to get back to sleep and put the telly on… but could I find anything worth watching? No! I mused over which DVD to watch. Whilst doing so, I drifted off into Sweet Morpheus’ land… Nice!
Two hours later, I woke in desperate need of a wee-wee! The memories of this morning’s facial, embarrassing and painful events came flooding back. Would I make it to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in time without any more Accifauxpas? again, but I got things flowing without any disasters. Stopping it flowing was the problem! The went on and on… I was almost tired out by the time it ended. Hehehe! I did have a mini during the leaking, but it only lasted for seconds – !
I felt the warm wet sensation when I pulled up the PPs. So, off I limped with Metal Micky to change the pants and clean up. As I entered the wet room, I stubbed my toe against the vicious, blood and bruise-bringing, metal, agony-to-use, brutal ! I’m sure she had moved from this morning; I thought I’d put her safely out of the way behind the mop bucket… I’m sure I did! Now, she was near the sink? Obviously, the work of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me! Or maybe .
That was the end of any thoughts of getting back to sleep again!
♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫
My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!
A simple nosh made for a simpleton, Who knows not what is a sextillion… Who passes wind, and creates a septon, Dementia has made his brain wanton… Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition… One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton, But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton… He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,
I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron? I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon! I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon? Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon… To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon! Even if it helped just as smidgeon… To slow down my deteriorating condition!
Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay, Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way… Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away… No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay… Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray, But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay… Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…
Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told, My mind refuses to be controlled… I’ve no virtues of being extolled… I’m not feeling very bold… Problems that need to be resolved? Why has my good-luck gland never evolved? Why have I never won a gold? No wonder my hopes have dissolved!
You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?
This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!
THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022
Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.
Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.
The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!
And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…
Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!
All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!
Needless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.
I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.
I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.
I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.
When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!
Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!
I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!
I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!
I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.
Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!
I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.
The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?
A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.
Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.
I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.
Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.
Ode To Hope
Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!
I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!
I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.
I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.
Turned on the computer…
Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…
I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.
This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!
From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.
The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.
Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!
When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…
2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.
I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.
I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?
I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.
I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.
I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.
The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.
Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!
Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…
I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.
Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.
Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!
Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.
I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.
After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!
Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!
Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.
It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.
I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!
Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.
I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…
I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!
4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.
So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!
Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.
I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!
17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!
Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy! I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.
Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.
Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.
I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.
Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.
Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!
This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.
But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!
ODE TO THE DAY
My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!
I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!
The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!
Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!
My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!
I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!
Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!
02:45hrs: I woke up, and stirred with a certain reluctance. Brought about by my anxiety of what the next mistake, error, memory lapse, blank-spell or tumble will bring forth with it.
No doubt about it, my confidence was low today to start with. It was almost like waking up a different person. The mind tormented and changed, I expect, from the four weeks of self-isolation. The thought of my being given instructions to keep isolated for another twelve weeks, and aware of all the problems that have arisen already, are doing me no good at all.
Determined not to get uptight and despondent like the last two days, I deliberated and brain-stormed in search of some positives from the situation. I surprised myself in how many I came up with. Most of the deformed, or contrived, but they made me feel a bit better, just for thinking of the silliness in most of them:
I’ve avoided injuries galore, by not putting any socks on, and avoiding the daily battle with the Sock-Glide! (Although, I do have a fear of having to use it again)
No buses. So no catching the wrong one!
No buses. So no falling asleep on them and missing the bus stop!
No buses. So no forgetting the bus pass, reading glasses, hearing-aids, cash, wristwatch, alert-cards and wristlets, mobile phone, medications or shopping list!
No waiting in the lift lobby, as the cages keep going up and down missing the twelfth floor altogether, repeatedly and then being delayed and missing the bus!
Searching for some silver-linings, no matter how far-fetched, still felt of some benefit to this mentally mangled-mind of mine. For a few moments, anyway!
As I was slowly and unenthusiastically removing my flabby-bulk from the second-hand, £300, uncomfortable, c1968, rickety-relic of a recliner, and grabbed the stick, the need for a wee-wee came on suddenly, and urgently. It was crucial that I responded with all alacrity available, to avoid any undue leakages.
When I got in the wet room, and the flow, flowed with an amazing forcefulness for once, as opposed to the trickling efforts of the last few days. I noticed the lower right arm had gone a speckly red-orange colour? Still, it made a change from the usual pale bloodless white.
I washed my hands as I did so, the damned carbolic soap shot out of my palm, bounced off of the wall, and straight down in the toilet bowl! That’s the end of that then. I’ll have a ferret around in the airing cupboard later, to see if I can any soap in there. I wonder if they have invented a miracle soap, toothpaste, spectacles and hearing aids magnet, and are testing it in my bog? Hahaha!
Into the kitchen, and took the medications, guzzled a load of the inefficacious, unfructuous, otiose Peptac to try to calm Duodenal Donald down a bit. Made a brew and opened the window to see what the odd noise was, found no cause for it, and took a photo of the morning view of the twinkling Nottingham lights.
I got on with the sad Saturday post. Plodded away and got it done. Emailed the links. Pinterested two photos. Then on TFZer Facebooking. WordPress Reader next.
About 08:30hrs, I got the template for this one done, and started creating it. But had to divert to the Porcelain Throne.
Ah, well, Trotski Terence didn’t last long, back to Constipation Conrad being in charge again. Ten minutes after starting, and a lot of effort and pain, the evacuation was finished, with a certain relief all around my body. Hehe! I went to the sink to get a wash, and couldn’t find the soap. I actually started searching around for it, it took a minute or so before I remembered I’d dropped in down the toilet earlier. Ay-yay-yay! What an Eizel! I must ask the Doctor if I can remember her, and where the surgery is later after the isolation period ends if it ever does… now, what was I going to ask her? Oh, yes! If the Peripheral Pete Neuropathy inspired Nicodemus Neurtranmitter end dying, could be causing me to be losing it with the memory, and failure to grasp, and fear of doing so, almost everything nowadays? I think?
I then had a check on the WordPress comments. Then started this blog going.
I went on Gmail to check again if any new stuff had arrived, and found a couple, one from Iceland (on the left here). This is an example of me struggling to comprehend things. Does this mean… well what does it mean? I have an order in for Monday already?
Make amends to your order. I imagine that amendments as meant?
A strict time allowed. So, I waited until 10.00am, and carried on with the blogging duties. But with confusion milling about in my head!
Well, as they say on the message, they hope this makes life a little easier, but this doesn’t make my life a little easier! Does this mean its a one-off, do I have to do it next week? Confusionableitis is rampant! If I do make an order, will they send it if I already have one in with them? Oh, Wallupperisticles and Finglegoberisations! So, I made one. At ten o’clock, I pressed the link button and got more messages before it let me on the site. I clicked to book a slot and got one in for Tuesday. 8 >10am.
Well, this is likely to cause me more bother than if I’d not done it. I don’t know if it will be valid. On Monday, I have an order coming that will fill the cupboards and fridge, now I’ve ordered some more for Tuesday! Hopefully, if it does come, I can share some with Jenny, as a sort of thank you. I hope she’s got some room in her fridge and freezer. Doing silly things comes so much easier nowadays!
I made brew, and had some mini-cheddars with it, and watched some UTube stuff while I had the odd breakfast.
Sister Jane and Brother in Law Pete sent me a photograph of their latest just received freebie box of fodder. (Right one doctored by yours truly, to show what they really meant. Hahaha!)
Talk about taking the wee-wee! Hahaha!
But I’m not jealous. Oh, no! Not at all.
Thanks, Pete and Jane, gave me a rare laugh, and much appreciated too!
Fatigue Francis, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and Dizzy Dennis, all convinced me to stop, make some nosh and have a sit-down. But my appetite and gluttony came to the fore, and I decided to make a nosh instead. The Iceland beefburgers, tempted me. They are not fatty at all, this was the appeal of them. I hope they don’t make Duodenal Donald any worse than he already is.
Simple enough meal. The last of my low-fat, ‘Naturally Imperfect’ oven chips were crispy and not fatty at all. The burgers were grand. The last of the piccolo tomatoes were wonderful, a Marmite and plain cheese disc were okay.
No bread, the loaf I had in was going mouldy, so I dished it. But that was a good thing, no need for bread with every meal, I’m getting used to it now. The low-calorie thin weak yoghourt was made edible with the addition of some Maple syrup, and it was all devoured and masticated with great joy! Flavour rated at 8.8/10!
I did the pots. Considered doing the hand-washing, but chickened out.
I took the evening medications. Olive oiled the ear-holes, made up a bottle of spring water with added the last of the Orange Barley, had a wee-wee.
Then settled down to watch some TV, with a certainty that sleep would surely come early tonight, after all, I was feeling mentally drained. AS long as the Thought-Storms didn’t kick-off.
I opted to watch some Rosemary & Thyme episodes. I watched all the way through the first one, without a single no-off. By cunningly changing and scrolling through the other channels when the advert-breaks came on. (Swank-Mode-Engaged!)
I had to visit the Porcelain Throne after this episode finished. What a performance that was. Constipation Conrad had really taken over the rear-end proceedings. Pain, blood, crosswording and a toe-stubbing! With not being able to get the toe-nails cut anywhere, this was the most painful stub of all time! (Sunday a.m.: It’s currently competing with Duodenal Donald for the position of Top-Dog in the ailment ratings!) Little Inchies fungal lesion needed cleaning and sorting, more agony!
A different version of Inchcock returned to his £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, c1968, not-working rickety recliner. A sad, grumpy thing, who became sadderer, when sleep refused to come, he didn’t even have any nodding-offs.
01:45hrs: I stirred into an ersatz version of life; feeling otiose, vague, and in need of a non-alcoholic potation. As I removed my horrendously ever-growing stomach with thin arms and legs attached to it, from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, the innards gurgled, I started coughing, and wind passed involuntarily from the rear end!
The thoughts of a brew of tea came second to the need for the Porcelain Throne. Off to the wet-room, the walking stick had never been used quickerer! In, PPs down, settled and… Wind! Nothing but noisy and smelly fluffer-doodling! Past experiences made me wait there, in case of sudden movements catching me out. A go at the crosswords, no clues solved, and no action actuated! Had a wash, changed PPs. Off to get the kettle on, as if the tea was a drug to me?
I got the kettle on, took the medications, again dropping the Omeprazole capsule, and made a brew of Glengettie. Into the computer desk, and had a look at the two-page, side-effects of the Omeprazole’s leaflet. But there was so much of it, I gave up.
Got the computer on, and went on Word Press Reader first. Then tackled updating the Wednesday post.
The almost immediate need to go back to the Throne was responded to as fast as I could manage it. Which was a good thing too! Because this time the innards-controlled evacuation started the moment I’d got seated. Eurgh! Splosh, splash, quirt, splatter! And with an aroma, that if bottled, could have been used as an effective nerve-gas by the military!
The stomach churned and ached after the release, for a long time. I cleaned up once more, me and the WC. Then had a few good-sized guzzles of the Silica gel and Dimethicone medicine, thinking it might calm down the borborygmus eruptions. (It didn’t) Shame, the pong of the repeated intestinal gas escapes, is filling the flat already, and it continues. As does the rumbling, grumbling innards and eructations, in between my coughing and sneezing. Sounds terrible, doesn’t it? It is! Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations!
When I got the post updated and sent off, I went on Pinterest, then TFZer Facebooking. Then did some searching to find out about the two outstanding Amazon orders. A good job that I’m home-isolated innit!
I tried for the ninth time in 24hrs, to get a Morrison Grocery order done. Hehehe! What a hopeful, old, gullible, senile idiot, I am!
I got some graphics done. Started this blog off. The gut still exploding, but the coughing had eased off, and one of the sneezes was probably heard by Sandra Lentz and Tim Price in America! As for the accompanying wind… Phwoar!
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and had to shoot off to the Throne again. Oh, dear! Another messy, miasmic smelling session. I keep washing my hands in between and on Throne visits, and I must have the cleaning mitts in the place!
I opened a can of baked beans and put some hickory marinade in them, a long soak into for later.
I did a try at getting some food from Ocado. Another negative, no slots available!
I went on Facebook for a while, then on to CorelDraw for a creating graphic session.
After about a couple of hours, the door chimes rang out with their ♫I only want to be with you!♫. I thought it might be Amazon with the ear inserts or seaweed packs. I got my onerously large body to the front door. There, just outside on the floor, was a bag of food that had been left for me!
I’ve no idea who had donated the fodder for me, but it was a beautiful gesture. I unloaded the pack, full of appreciation.
The cobs will be perfect with my beans later! Onions and carrots, I’ve got some parsnips in reasonable nick, in the fridge. Tomorrow’s meal sorted thanks to the donator. That frees me from the worry of having to go out today! Bless whoever it was! Canned mushy peas, baked beans, sardines. A yoghourt that unfortunately has the lethal to me cranberries in it. Milk, lemonade, tomato puree, and some white bread. So kind of them! Oh, and a can of orange pieces, a perfect after for me!
I was putting the stuff away, and the landline rang and flashed. It was from Jenny. She was the angel who left the food for me, and perfect timing it was, may her foibles ferment with festive functions frequently! ♥ After the current scare, of course. Thanks again, Jenny! I feel humbled!
Made a brew in celebration, and got back to the graphicalisationing. It was slow going, and I had to leave it again, for yet another Porcelain Throne mission! The same evacuation mode as the last one. By gum, I’ve got a sore bottom now! Dangwangling Dangwangles!
After much tenderising and medicating, I returned and, oh, so painfully sat in the computer chair. I could do with another of the cushion-rings. Tsk!
The Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun visits got too much for me. I had to stop computerising and while putting everything away, had to pay another Porcelain Throne visit, a visitational record today I think. Exactly the same activity. Messiness and uncomfortableness. I took an anti-Diarrhorea-Duncan capsule. Washed medicated and had to just sit quietly for a while.
Within seconds I’d drifted into a dream-filled sleep, in which I knew I was sleeping and just seemed to be enjoying the mangled, foozled dreams.
The landline flashed and sounded, I woke and fumbled my way to the phone. It was Jenny, helping me out again! She had miraculously got through to Iceland to give an order. And, as is her natural, considerate, obliging characteristics, she asked if I would like anything adding to the order for Saturday. If I email her back with anything, she will add it to her order. Not many folks would think of that, but Jenny is special.
I was still a tad confused at being woken up. And am not sure if owt else was said, and I sat down again for a few minutes and wrote down some items, then nodded off again.
I woke with a start. With a new headache above the eyes. Accompanied by Shaking Shaun, and Shaking Shoulder-Shirley having a go at me. To round things off, Flatulating Frank was rampant and persistent. Off to the Throne again! At least this session was not as messy.
My body just wanted to sleep, but I wanted to get back to Jenny and thank her and give a little list of items she had kindly asked for me to add to her Iceland delivery. Her delivery is for late on Friday, and Jen’ politely said she would not wake-me then, and bring it to me until Saturday morning. The lady is so thoughtful! So, a treat of braised beef in onion gravy cook-in-the-bag again for me this weekend after all! Bless yers, Jenny!
I got the computer on again. And sent the email. Then got the meal prepared. I had to take care in doing so, cause Shirley and Shaun were in attendance still.
The hickory seasoned beans with the last of the tomatoes, and triple-fried chips, and the Jenny-supplied bread, were smashing!
A taste-rating of 8.5/10! The white slice and cobs did an excellent job of soaking up the sauce! Hehehe!
I washed the dish and cutlery and got the handwashing in Woolite soaking in the bowl. I was too tired to do it tonight. It had been an emotional, draining, ‘shaking-all-over’ day, the Trots, and the fatigue and lack of proper sleep had affected me worse than usual.
I got back down in the £300, second-hand, dilapidated, c1968, rickety recliner. The eyes began to droop, and a particular sort of, well, almost joy came over me, as I realised I might get some sleep in without waiting for hours. I think Flatulent Frank agreed, cause he kept passing little comments! Hahaha!
As a blissful Morpheus was coming over me, and Dogwangles! I’d not taken the evening medications! With tremendous and grumpy petulant reluctance, I heaved my stomach-dominated torso from the recliner. And made my way to the kitchen’s medicines drawer…
– As slowly as I was hobbling, and as carefully as I could, I still managed to give myself a toe-stubbing on the corner of the kitchen door! I held onto the door frame for extra support, closed my eye, and withheld the urge to cry out loud and swear! A few moments later, after a Thought Storm that was partly incomprehensible, but included niggling, depressive thoughts about my bad luck and stupidity, I got the medications from the drawer and imbibed them with a drink of spring water.
It took me a lot longer to get back to the chair than it did to get to the kitchen. The throbbing toe, headache above the eyes and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley joined forces to stop me getting to sleep for along time. But fatigue was getting the upper hand slowly but surely. Sweet Morpheous blessedly arrived!
But not for long! Tsk! The sounds of ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the door chimes. Reluctantly, I freed my weighty lump of a body from the recliner, the toe didn’t half sting, as I fumbled my way to the door. It was Josie ringing, to tell me I’d had a parcel left outside the door. Bless her! I’m sure we chatted, I seem to remember telling her it was the seaweed snacks, and she would have some on her Sunday meal and thanking her for letting me know.
I was done-in now, mentally. How I got back to the recliner, and where I put the seaweed box, will have to be investigated in the morning.
Never have I been so tired! But I did get down and asleep, I know this because later, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the door chimes, and woke me again! Argh! There was no one there when I got to the door!
Crying out loud was an option that came to mind… but I didn’t!
01:15hrs: I woke up, in a right mind-pickle – it took me a minute or so who realised I’d woken up at all! Part of the brain was still happily back in the dream I was having, and a beaut it was. I was entertaining an old flame from years ago, the best bit was we were the same ages again. The happy reminiscing ended, as I realised it was not really happening, and never will again. In a couple of seconds, I went from Happiness Defcon 1 to a gibbering, depressed, sulking old git that I am. Hehehe!
The regular summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived as I was battling to get up on my feet. Grabbed the stick and meandered to the wet room, thinking there was no rush, the borborygmic churning was not present. But I nearly got caught out, no sooner had I got down on the Throne, the evacuation started. Another painful one, but a lot quicker today, and not so messy! There was a bit of bleeding mind.
The legs were so different from yesterday morning. Far paler and with the blood-papsules, weals, scars, lumps, bulges, spots, bruises, welts and veins had gone into shy-mode! This was a mystery to me, even for 72 Woodthorpe Court’s illusions, delusions, hallucinations, farcicalisations, infestations, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and manic machinations that thrive here freely, and so bountifully!
I got cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. The noise from the ‘Hum’ seemed different somehow, still loud, but with a sort of purring effect that gusted now and then with it. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, took the medications.
Considering if I should open the packet of crispy salt & vinegar seaweed for breakfast or not. But I decided against this, in case I liked them and I have no more. There’s a logic in there somewhere, well, I thought there was at the time, Haha!)
I got on the computer and checked to see if the ‘Error’ that Facebook assured me “We’re working on getting this fixed as soon as we can”, four days ago, had been repaired and I could get back into my photo albums. No Chance! If it wasn’t for my love of the TFZer site, I would just leave and stick with LinkedIn. So much pleasure has been taken away from me.
I got on with the updating of yesterdays blog. Which was not easy. Interference from Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Neurotransmitter Nigel, that even with so few photographs taken, so many mistakes were having to be corrected. It took me hours get done. Humph! But I got it finished eventually.
Then went on to the WordPress Reader. Some fantastic photographs on there from Tim Price today. He’s put a blog on with the finest pictures of his cats I’ve ever seen. If you are a cat person (Jane?), have a look if you like, great stuff! Tim’s Expressionable cats
Hello, back to the Throne! A repeat performance, but without the bleeding. Got a wash and returned to the computer.
I made a start on this blog but had to divert to get the ablutions sorted out. Iceland fresh and frozen foods are coming soon.
I had a quick check of their email confirmation to see if anything had been short, or substituted. Of course, there had been, four items affected. They sent large fresh mushrooms in place of button ones. Breadcrumb fish fingers instead of battered. No kitchen towels at all. Naturally, there were no toilet rolls! Spitworthy-Splurging-Sprungcurses! Swine!
Off I trotted to the wet room. It started as a fine almost injury-free session Many dropsies early on, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters got kinder to me later. Only one tiny nick shaving. and no razor-drops (Smug-Mode-Adopted, hehe!), a bit of a dizzy in the shower, but all this good luck went to pot with the Sock-Glide Battle! One trapped finger-end was all it was, but blimey it hurt!
I got dressed and smelling nice, got the black bags (3), Recyclable bag, and a bag of used glass jars made up and put them near the door, so I would not forget to take them with me.
Then got the handwashing tackled, all done, all wrung, and hung. It was a much longer job today, did a couple of things extra, jammie-bottoms and a jumper. The jammies should be dried by around September or November time, I reckon. Har-har! I didn’t spill so much water over me and the floor, either today.
I heard the text message beep and went to investigate. It was a No-Reply message from the Elmswood Garden Medical Centre, correcting yesterdays mistake when they told us; That if we were feeling unwell, do go to your podiatry appointment on Thursday. As I mentioned yesterday, it had to be an error. Ah, well! Nice to know that someone else can ‘Maka-the-Mistaka’, like wot I can! (And do so with a little more frequency than I would like!
The intercom flashed, it was the Iceland delivery chap. Just five carrier bags full, but I’d ordered the heavy stuff that is hard for me to carry form the shops, along with some frozen and fresh bits. Still, they made two unwanted substitutions, and two other not available. I didn’t want the friendly chap to wait about in case I gave him the Coronavirus, so just kept the fish fingers and risotto. I’ll take them to give away later.
Both fridge and freezer were at capacity now! Out of interest, I put the third photo on, its a perfect example of what comes out when taking a picture, and Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley kicks off.
Plenty of time before the Phlebotomy nurse is due, so I cleaned the pams, stove and fridge box.
Then nipped to the waste chute with the black bags. Then down to the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators) Warden Obergruppenführers, taking the glass with me. Stewart was there and took the glass jars off of me. Off to the Hauptsturmfhreressess Holding Cell and Office. Handed the nibbles over, and said my farewells.
I had a brief chat with Welsh William as I went down the link passage back to Woodthorpe, or it might have been when I was going the other way, I’m not sure, cause Dizzy Dennis has just had a go at me, and Shaking Shaun at the right leg and Should-Shaking Shirley! Not very good that! Anyroad, the right ankle went over, the first time in about three months! Please that it doesn’t start off again! That would be too much to cope with. Blubber, whimper, repine, and kvetch! Hahaha!
Back at the flat, I had a go at cleaning the bathroom, but I soon put a stop to it, after only about three minutes. I was getting back up after getting down to retrieve some items that I’d knocked down behind the floor cabinet. (Probably been down there for months, Haha!) And the right ankle gave way again! This is really disheartening.
Oh, dear, I’ve just realised that the nurse has not arrived yet. I was hoping to get out for some fresh vegetables, shame. I’ll go and see if she did not come early when I was out and left a note… back in a bit. Nope, nowt notes.
Oh, dearie me! I’ve just looked at the Anticoagulation Haemostasis Deep vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic from the hospital… Der! there is no test this week, it’s next week! I’m rushing to get ready to go to Arnold for some fresh fruit & vegetables and toilet rolls.
Took black bags to the chute on the way out, then down and along the passage to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators), Obersturmführeresses and Catwalk Model Wardens, Strip-search and holding cell room. Then on through to the Winchester Court lobby and out to the bus stop. A bit of a chinwag at the shelter and the bus soon arrived, and the others dropped off in Sherwood. I stayed where I was, snuggly ensconced in the corner side-saddle seat, having a failed attempt at the crosswords en route.
I got off in Daybrook, at the Sainsbury store. As I went through the store’s car park, which was almost full, I saw very few people about? And as I entered the store, grim, yet determined faces on the shoppers greeted me!
My EQ told me to take care, in there?
The atmosphere inside, although the place wasn’t crowded, was one of purposefulness, it showed on the shoppers’ expressions, but there was touch of resignation lingering on a few of them. I made my way to the greengrocery section first, Hahaha!
There was not a lot of choice on the ravages shelves. Unnervingly, As I searched, I saw what looked like reasonably fresh blood on one of the empty tomato boxes? I only got some parsnips and the only tomatoes available were the organic-grown cherry type. I bought a packet, although I was going to try Asda afterwards, I thought they may not have any either? I pack of sliced mushrooms and some very costly Cox’ apples were added to my basket.
Then I went to the paper products shelves. A grim sight indeed! But, I got blessed with a spot of kindness and compassion! There were just two toilet roll packs left on the whole of the shelving. However, they were expensive ones, with no cardboard rolls. Nicky brand, they were. I took a photo (below) when I got home to show you.
Back to the story-line, (I’m such a waffler!) I could not reach up to the top shelf to get at the rolls. And I could see grim-aggressive faced shoppers approaching, with obvious intentions when they spotted the two rolls! Others seemed to be chasing to overtake them… I would have lost my chance of getting any paper rolls, had it not been for a tall, distinguished-looking young lady, who passed me from behind and went to grab the Nicky’s, she kindly asked me; ‘Did you want one of these?’ ‘Yes, please, thank you very much’, and she handed me the packet!
With all the greed and nastiness going on around me, then this kind gesture from a stranger, I went all gooey-eyed. Thank you a million times, Madam!
The ganglet of other shoppers who’d stampeded to the rolls, didn’t look devastated or sad at missing out; Just so angry! One woman said loudly to her partner, “He’ll be on his own, I have a family to look after… it’s not right”, or something along those lines.
If looks could turn into actions, I’d have withered and died on the spot! Two completely different outlooks within seconds of each other! The memories of their pure-hatred-filled glares and scowls will take me a while to get rid off. Humph!
I paid at the checkout, and the two nasties joined the queue behind me. Still scowling at me, but not saying anything. When the till-lady offered to pack my bag for me, the man and woman both gave out a few Tsks as it delayed them! Oh, dearie me!
I paid the kind young lady, got outside and thought I’d not bother with going to Asda and make do. The bus was due in ten minutes, so I went to the Pelican lights to cross the road… and the L9 bus passed by! Well, fancy that, I thought! (Not the exact words a muttered to myself!) So another change of plans and I walked into Arnold and called at the open fruit and veg market to see what they had on offer.
The produce didn’t look all that fresh to me. The biggest disappointment was they had on display some tiny whole parsnips and carrots, that would have been perfect for roasting. But on closer examination, they were a bit like me, old and withered! Hehehe!
I called in the Fulton food store, but they had no vegetables or toilet rolls, not that I needed the rolls now, for a while anyway. It’d be just my luck, to go and get diahorrea now.
Over the road and into Asda. No photographing in here, not since the Security men caught me photographicalising last year, and firmly told me off!
The place was mayhem, bog roll shelves empty, bread rack with nothing on them, and the now seemingly accepted family gangs, with each member having a trolly. In hopes of buying extra-short of stock things I imagine. Then they will go through the checkouts as if they are not related, in an effort not to stick to the maximum permitted number of items! Community Spirit?
I got to the self-serve tills with, a bag of prepped sweet potato fries, (they’ll get eaten tonight methinks), ready-sliced fresh-looking leeks, some English fresh tomatoes, chopped onions, sugar snap peas and two tiny turnips.
Then the climb up to High Street to catch the L9 bus. Eerily, there was nobody at the bus shelter at all! The bus arrived early, I’m so glad I did too!
I’ve never known this happen before, but when I got on the bus, I was the sole passenger! So, out came the crossword book. I was doing a little better this time. The bus went for three or four stops without picking anyone up, another first. When it got to Daybrook, a few got on at various stops, and a lady who usually has a natter with got on, and I went into Chinwagging-Delight-Mode! Hahaha! The others all joined in with jokes and laughs when she produced a pack of toilet rolls. She works in a shop!
I got home and went through a people-less Winwood Court to Woodthorpe Court. I got the fresh stuff out of the bag and ready for storing away in the fridge, that needed some jiggling about to make room for them. This is when I realized I had two packs of Cox’s apples, one from Sainsbury’s one from Asda. I checked the till receipts and found no charge on the Asda one? Oh, dear! I don’t know how, but I had not charged myself for the bagged fruit.
I got the oven heating up, opened a can of beans and put some Hickory marinade in with them, and on the lowest heat. Then, took the evening medications, moved the handwashing, put some on the clothes airer. Stirring the beans regularly, I’m looking forward to trying the unbelievably expensive Hickory.
The meal was okay, it didn’t look very appetising to me, though.
The Hickory, so-called flavouring was untasteable! Trying to work it out, I think I must have put over a £1’s worth of the stuff in with the beans too! Very disillusioning. I shall not be buying that again! Watery Crap! Cat Wass! Here’s a photo of the insipid weak, Taste-of-the South, American marinade, just so you don’t get conned like I did, into thinking it will be rich and tasty. It’s not!
However, the fries and beans were delightful all the same. A flavour-rating of 7/10. But I was a bit miffed at the marinade’s tameness and bland tastelessness. Particularly at how much I paid for it! I’m too embarrassed and coy to tell you how much it was!
Being so late, I thought that sleep would come quickly tonight, for once, but no. I did dose off regularly, but only for a few minutes each time, and was waking up with a start each time? So desperate was I, I turned the TV on, vainly hoping I’d do the usual and fall asleep at the first set of advertisements, but again, No! I just carried on, dosing and waking, I could see the clock, and sometimes I was off for only a minute before jumping awake!
I wondered if the day’s ups and downs, and excitement of the chinwags and getting out and about had affected me?
01:10hrs: I can’t claim to have woken up this morning cause all I did was repeatedly have a couple of minutes nod-off, woke, mused, and did it again, and again, and aga…, well, you get the picture. Another almost sleepless night! Thus, I am not up to much this morning. Not that I am on many mornings. Haha!
I dismounted the grossly uncomfortable, £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, only Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were any hassle, up to now. No Dizzy Dennis or Duodenal Donald bother.