TFZers? What’s going in here, then? Hehe! ♥
Monday 7th December 2020
Latin: 7 Decembris Lunae MMXX
00:10hrs: I sort of burst into life with a bit of a jump and jounce! I remained where I was (which was partially hanging out of the c1968 recliner, with my bum hanging over the cushion!), and pondered on a few things: Have I had another stroke? How did I get into this position? How do I get out of it? What day is it? Why have I got crumbs in the folds of my stomach again? That sort of thing, like… Then as the brain slowly engaged gear, a semi-panic grabbed me – What did wake me up? Was an alarm sounding, did the cooker or fridge blow-up? I lurched precariously, struggling to get up on my feet safely.
Once up, and holding the arm of the recliner for a few moments, worrying about what the expergefactor was, which had woken with such alarm? I caught my balance, and had a hobble around in my Sherlock Holmesian mode, to find the culprit that stirred me back to life so abruptly. The kitchen was perused, and nothing found that could have been the cause of any noise. (A deal of guilt though, at the state of the room, Tsk), so I cleaned up a bit and freshened the wee-wee bucket. I had to have another wee-wee as I investigated the wet room, all in order there. The hallway revealed nothing suspicious either.
I then needed to visit the wet room Porcelain Throne. Fearing the worst pain-wise after yesterdays, long, drawn-out agonistic affair on the loo. To my surprise and joy, things went much easier and far less hurtfully! Oh, Yes! I’d say a draw in the PTDDS (Porcelain Throne Daily Domination Stakes), but so messy! The tank had to be filled and flushed twice to clear thing away.
Well, defeated in my search for what had woken me up, I got on with the Health Checks.
The Sphygmomanometer SYS reading was well down, at last!
The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer was at 36.6°c. Another decent figure.
Then I went to get the medications, and it all the fiasco of sorting them out yesterday, due to Carrington Pharmacy, next to the pub and Lidl store at 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, failing to put any seals on top of two of the weekly dose-pots, flooded-back to me! Crumbleckskins! It bothered me that I could not identify the differences between the Fuesomide, Beta-Blockers and the Codeine 60g, and just hoped and prayed I’d got them right. I took the medications for last night and got this morning’s out to be near the computer to remind me to take them later on. Again, hoping for the best! I took them with some spring water.
But I didn’t let it get the memory of, or risks I have to take thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, next to the pub and Lidl store at 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, get to me, start spitting, silently cursing or gritting my teeth, at all.
I got the computer booted up, and went to get another glass of water, and… Grobblegrindingness! I’d left the hot water tap running! At least the plug wasn’t in the sink, so no liquid spillage all over the floor. But, of course, this means no hot water for the ablutions now! Gruffungrobblings!
Still, no worry, these things can’t be helped.
I took a photo out of the unliked, can’t get at clean, light & view-blocking kitchen window. What a farce that was, the flipping fog even masked the street lights. It soon cleared, though! Then I got a similar area shot from Sunday, that produced the rather decent picture of the same area, below. Got the Glengettie brewed and back to the computer.
Not a lot of updating to do on the Sunday blog. As I was up late, thanks to having sort out the Carrington Pharmacy, next to the pub and Lidl store at 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, cock-up with the prescription pill-pods medications.
Still, it can’t be helped. I got the diary posted off to WordPress, and sent the Email link. Went on the WordPress Reader, and got caught-up on Facebooking.
I decided to see what slots I can get on Sainsbury’s delivery. Got one for Thursday 10th December, 07:00>08:00hrs. I kept it down to the minimum I needed, although I ordered some wine for Christmas pressies, but, how I can get it to the person, I don’t know. Still, it’ll do later, maybe. Perhaps.
Not my feet – but a warning of what can come!
I kept getting stings from whatever it is under the foot. Well, I can now name it: Cyber-Friend, Lynton has informed me they care called ‘Molluscum Contagiosum’. Another ailment to add to my list. I could call them warts, but that doesn’t sound impressive, does it? Hehehe! The ones on the legs, look like Atropic Dermitisus! Fancy waiting all these years to find that out, you’d have thought the various consultants and doctors over the years would have mentioned it? Giggle! I’m, still much better off, Molluscum Contagiosum-wise than this poor devil in the photo. Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Haha!
Off to get the ablutions done. Stripping off, I observed that the ankle ulcer, was clearing up and a lot less inflamed this morning, still irritatingly itchy, but that’s name bother, to such a magnificently brave, heroic, staunch chap like wot I am. Ahem! The knees cartilage problem is more evident. T’was a good session again, only a stand-up job, mind you. I did not want to spend to much time in there, with the precious Vampire nurse Hristina arriving nice and early to take my blood. The teeth cleaning was done carefully, to avoid any bother with the cracked tooth, the one the dentist told me over a week than was nothing to worry about and is giving me some stick???
Why do I always get treated like this? The Hitlerish Urologist, the chemist’s pharmaceutical man with murderous (towards me) intentions, the Optician who fits me out with new glasses that the lens falls out of them a week later, and the specs fall off of my nose, and Paramedic who takes me to the wrong hospital? It’s been a learning curve this year so far!
I’m waffling again, sorry about that!
The shaving was not so good today, only one cut, but the dropsies, well! They nearly gave me backache, picking up the dropped items. At least ten times, shaving cream, razors, after-shave bottle etc. Tsk! Humph! The stand-up wash went betterer, only the one dropsy. Medicationalisationing and deodorising were easier than they usually are. Well, apart of the application of the Daktacort cream to Little Inches fungal lesion, that produced a few Oohs, curses, argh’s and much wincing.
I got dressed, cleaned the wet room a bit, and left to make up a couple of small waste bags, and added them to the box on the trolley-guide.
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana and back to the computerisationing.
The doorbells chimed out Dusty’s tune. Seconds later, the beautiful, desirous Vampire nurse Hristina entered the room. Stressed a little she was. The gal always talks too quickly for me to understand her when she’s tensed-up, I’ve noticed that. As she took the blood, I told her of the farce with the medications. She soon, sadly, had to rush off again. Bless her cotton socks! ♥
The landline burst forth and flashed. It was Jenny, telling me the pickled eggs had arrived, and wanted to know if I had room in the freezer for the fish and meatballs she was keeping for in her kitchen for me. She’s like that, so kind. I said I had and thanked her. Minutes later, Jen arrived at the door with a jar of pickled eggs for me, and the fish and balls. She rushed back as I thanked her, she looked very busy, as she would be if the food order had just arrived. Thanks again, Jen!♥
I rang the number for Nottingham Care, wanting to ask them if Matron Julie could contact me at her leisure. I got a recorded message that I could not hear. Over the next hour or so, I tried with the same result. I made another brew, Glengettie this time, to replace the earlier mug of tea that had gone cold.
I tried a 4th time to ring and listened as hard as I could to the message for a long time, then some music came on the line, and I got through to top a kind lady. Stuttering Stephanie started, and she the lady was patient with me. I explained about the medications, pointing out that it will not be a problem for a week, so no rush. (I realised later that it was two weeks, Tsk!) The lady tried to ring Matron Julie, but no luck. She will send a text message to her for me. I thanked her, muchly ♥. I’m hoping that Julie will be able to identify the three tablets and work out which were lost for me. A bit of a job to do, but it’s beyond my eyesight, hand coordination and concentration. Poor thing, Hehe!
Having not had any brekkers, I started to look into making the meal of the day. I got the oven turned on and heating – because whatever I decide to have fodder-wise will have chips with them. Funny how one gets these cravings?
I called Jenny to ask if she wanted me to add anything to the Iceland order for her tomorrow. Doris answered Jen had nipped out. Lovely to talk to Doris, mind.
I continued with the flog updating for an hour or so. I think that I am, no, I know I’m struggling more with the typing. Thank heavens that Grammarly has introduced an auto-correct option, at least I should not miss so many mistakes I’m making, now.
The oven should be hot enough now, so I poddled to the kitchen, to think about what to have. After a while vacillating, I opted to make chips, fish strips, garden peas and maybe tomatoes. The world is my oyster…
Blimey, the drilling just started, it sounded as if it is coming from in the flat! Didn’t half make me jump, Hahaha!
As I got the chips and fish in the oven, SSS Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off. The result is the photo on the right. Hey-Ho!
Waiting for the cooking, and did some more updating, and the weariness fell.
I washed and changed into my nightwear attirement (Jammy bottoms).
Served up the nosh. The warm brown baguette was great! I got down in the recliner, feet up on the swivel chair to eat it, and dined well. Taste-Rating 7.8/10, and wallowed in it.
Washed the pots, and got serious about sleeping, I was more drained than ever with all the hassle.
As I was beginning to drift off, Colin Cramps attacked the left leg, then the right one, this was not only painful but bad timing, just as I was in my hypnagogic state. I had to be patient and wait until Colin had calmed down. At least he did eventually and was just about reaching the half-asleep, half-awake mode, and the landline chirped and flashed.
I cracked my knee on the Ottoman as I struggle up and over to the phone. It was Jenny calling. She realised I was sleeping and the silly-girl apologised for waking me. There was no need whatsoever to do that because she was only calling in response to my calling her, and was concerned I might be in need assistance, of some sort, bless her cotton socks. I mentioned the Iceland order going in tomorrow. She really is a treasure! ♥ (I think we spoke of other stuff, but the tired brain didn’t take everything in)
Back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and surprisingly was in the hands of Sweet Morpheus within minutes… and then, a minute or so later, I was woken up by SSS (Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley), as the shuddering clouted the right arm against the recliner arm. Grobognangles! This was fair clout, and the elbow joined in with the Anti-Sleep brigade of ailments! I put some Phorpain gel on the arm, rubbed it in well, and the insomnolence slowly eased. And I was back where I started, desperately trying to get to sleep.
I lay there for ages, sleep being denied, and the Thought Storms started!
They were soon interrupted, by yet another incoming landline call.
This time it was Matron Julie, asking about the fiasco with Carrington Pharmacy, next to the pub and Lidl store at 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, cock-up with the prescription pill-pods medications.
I was not fully with-it as we spoke. I recall explaining what had happened and my making up the old pill-pods box’s with what tablets I retrieved that had scattered on opening the box, from the floor, the fireplace, under the second-hand, charity shop brought with broken doors, c1960, E-plan Hopewell’s cabinet, in a slipper, and even some that had bounced out into the hallway… Julie told me she would call to see me tomorrow. (Hopefully not as late as this, though) I thanked her.
I got back in the recliner, the Thought Storms restarted. Musing and worrying over the medications, must have an early stand-up ablution session in the morning, in case Julie arrives early, not touch the tablets that had gone on the floor, Sweet Morpheus was prayed for…
BT Internet A long time later, I did nod-off, and I was dreaming about falling down caves underground, each level that I fell through had different colour mud? That’s all I recall about it.
The landline burst into life again. The light woke me, and I was tempted to ignore it, I was so worn-out and tired. But, realised it may be the Matron with more advice or instructions, I battled my weary limbs and whacking great, flabby, generously-proportioned stomached body free of the recliner, and to the phone.
It was another of the scammers, telling me: In a recorded message, saying your BT Internet service will be disconnected if you don’t continue to the call… I put the phone down!
This paragraph was written in the morning; Wouldn’t it be lovely, if the callers, (this one I’ve had a few times now), could be executed slowly, painfully and publicly? When I first got one of these, I went into Sherlock Holmesian mode and went into a detailed search (This was years before the stroke), to find that the calling number was registered in London. After many site visits on the web, I found that the number originated from Nairobi. Grollucks!
Really peed-off now, I got a drink of water, and back down in search of sleep. Which I did get in the end, but not until long after the Thought Storms had had their last circumlocutionary, psychotropic run at mind-bending. They are good at this!