Not that I’d had any sleep to wake up from, but I dropped some pluppets of wind, then moved into a position ready to free myself from the clutches of the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. At this stage, I changed plans and made my way to the wet room for the. The was also needed a visit. I whipped down the sleeping slacks sharpishly, fearing a partially liquid evacuation. Splurge-splatter all over and done within seconds! Ah, now the teeth breaking… I mean cleaning and the potentially dangerous shaving to be done.
I wetted the chops and neck, then a good covering of shaving cream, and I was off. The blood flowed at the first glide of the four-blade razor down the chin! Several minor nicks followed, and one at the back of the neck that I could not get to see. So, after doing the teeth, breaking another lump out of the double molar, which also bled away! It was bleeding long after I’d finished the ablution and got dressed. I discovered that I’d torn the gum as well, but still, I managed to stop it in the end.
The only other ailment bothering me was . Very tender! Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were being sweethearts this morning. And Dizzy Dennis, , and the recent nuisance was nice and calm, too! Worrying innit?
I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea and took this photograph of the dark dank morning out there. To me, it looked nothing like on here when I viewed it on the viewer screen on the camera. Most disappointed in my efforts, I thought it would be much sharper?
Arrived. Richard was in the much better form today. We had a netter and chinwag. Seemed to go on for ages. I enjoyed us putting the world to rights. Hehehe! Took his lesser-filled treats bag with him, taking the waste bag with him. I think I mentioned something to him as he went down the lobby, and I have a feeling it was about something important, but I’m blown if I can remember what it was about now.
I got out the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, out and working. And what a change in the figures today!
The up and down results continue. SYS 132 (lowest for a week!) The DIA was within range at 72. The pulse had, at last, come down to 87 after five says being in the red zone.
And the body temperature was the best for weeks, at 34.3°f!
.I put the new figures for today into the Excel graph. I wanted to get an average reading, but it’s so long since I’ve used Excel I wouldn’t remember how to do it. Can’t read the advice I found on the web; when I zoom in, it gets more blurred than ever.
It’s times like this, and the same as yesterday when I made a right mess with WordPress and nearly lost the day’s blog. That I wish the Cataract operation would come soon.
I pondered over the failed morning view taken earlier. I do a lot that, you know, pondering. Hehehe! Trying to think what I’d done wrong. Especially after last night’s decentish sun-setting shots.
You are forgiven for not believing what this photo was of that I took next… Tsk! Go on, have a guess. Haha! Yet again, it looked nothing like this disaster on the viewer screen? The red light shows, was the back of the Lumix, the charging of the battery light. Obviously, I took this with the Fuji camera. So that’s a mess I’ve made of a Lumix picture. And a disaster with the Fuji. Has the Cataract gotten worse? Am I going bonkers? Have I lost it altogether? Humph!
Just to put yet another dampener on things, I stood up to go and get the kettle on. Yes… Much pissed-offed language flowed, a few naughty words were uttered, and my mood dipped again, my interest in everything flailed, and depression dawned… not to mention the agony it left me in! It also pulled viciously at and her knee! I got a great dollop of Phorpain gel and rubbed it energetically all around the right knee. It did not ease the pain at all. So I took another Codeine.
Then, the same as the week before last, the instant fatigue come over me. I knew I just had to sit myself down and likely fall asleep. I had the forethought to make some rice for a meal, in case I’m in the land of nod for as many hours was last Thursday, or was it Wednesday? Luckily the rice can be cooked in the microwave, but of course, I can’t read for how long. Huh, then I remembered forgetting to ask Richard to read it this morning! I’m going to get the rice done and sat down. I’m not feeling very good at all now?
Made myself some rice, added mushrooms and a bit of BBQ sauce. The flavour rating, as best I recall, is 7/10. Then I flopped down in the c1968 recliner and, for hours, did my best to get some sleep. My body instructed me to. Nonetheless, I stayed awake. I did come close to nodding off a couple of times, but on the first occasion, started banging about upstairs and woke me. I think this is when I took these two photos? Not sure, though. But it was light, so must have been around then. Both of and from the balcony.
The next time I was about to find bliss with Sweet Morpheus, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ burst from the door chime. Struggled up and to the door. It was Josie bringing the dishes and tray back from her Sunday lunch.
Finally… at last, around 18:00hrs, it was getting dark, and I actually drifted off to sleep! But moments later sprang awake with a jump. Unsure of why I had to get up to check the front door, intercom, mobile, and each room in case something had toppled over or similar. It gave me chance to unlock the front door before a carer arrived, at least. Nothing untoward or possible reason for whatever did wake me up with such a jolt and had my mind and body limbs threshing out.
Then minutes later, I was close again to joining Sweet Morpheus; and ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ burst from the door chime. It was the Sam arriving. Despite the rude awaking, I was glad to see Sam. Who dealt me the medications, and she closed the curtains for me. Choice of nibbles in thanks.
Sleep was still resistant, despite my body and mind begging for some. No idea when I did drop off into the land of nod, but when I woke up, I felt a lot easier and fresher. And with a frantic need of the Porcelain Throne!
23:50hrs: I woke to Thought Storms that must have been in a dream because they were very active straight away. Fears, concerns, anxious concerns that came and went for ages.
I needed a wee-wee shortly, and after getting IP from the recliner, catching my balance and getting to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I found it nearly full! Still, there was no rush, things didn’t feel urgent. I took the bucket with me to the wet room, used the WC, for a WDWW (Weak-Dribbling-Wee-Wee) and cleaned and disinfected the bucket. While doing this, I thought I could smell burning, and remembered yesterdays incinerated Chilli-Con-Carne in the pan.
I’d left it soaking, and went to investigate to see if anything was salvageable. Amazingly, the last few bits of fodder came off quickly? And the saucepan was usable again! Made a brew, and took the morning medications.
Going to get the computer on to get the Templates started, and I returned to the wet room, to us the Porcelain Throne. Constipation Konrad was thrashed by Trotsky Terence in this mornings DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle). What a messy affair! Much refilling of the tank, before the great-dollop of evacuated product, was cleared.
Back to the computer and the now gone cold mug of Glengettie, and made a start on finishing off yesterdays diary. It was hard work again, with interruptions from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). Got it done, posted off, and Pinterested a few photos.
I made up a template for today. Then went onto Facebooking catch-up. The WordPress Reader section next and emailed the link.
I then tried to get the advance Templates done. This was even more frustrating, cause Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept going off-line, and causing me to make many errors and mistakes, many not noticed at first, and I had to keep going back top check earlier work done. Confusing, innit? I persevered…
Sixteen-hours after getting up. I got the temp[lates finished! I’d cream-crackered now.
The scribbled notes and few photos I took will help me remember bits, in the morning… he says hopefully. It may be a little muddled, though!
I turned off the computer to allow it to cool down a smidge, I went to do the ablutions.
I can’t recall things much because when I got around to updating this, it was 22 hours later. I’ll do me bestest. The knees before and legs after the shower were photographed.
I made a brew of Glengettie and restarted the computer. It might have been a mistake turning it off, cause now the internet was slower than ever, and CorelDraw kept playing up and needed restarting frequently.
Mistakes were being made in the Template creations, and much time was lost going back after finding a mistake to correct it. I expect many cock-ups will still have been missed.
Hours later, I got increasingly frustrated with mu wrongdoings, cocking things up, and forgetting, rechecking… Not good! I went to make another brew and took these photographs of the snow shower. The wind was blowing the light snow in all directions, but the shots I took some through the window, a lot of snow came into the room! Haha!
The templating was returned to, and I persisted for several more hours until the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off I poddled
‘Never, in the field of human ablutionisationing have I had such a massive evacuation!’ Much bleeding.
I opened MS Word to find one I needed from my ‘Future Use’ dictionary, and the bloody layout had changed on its own again!
I lost an hour or more trying to get it back to how I wanted it. But had to make do, as it was beyond me this new layout.
It was a slow slog getting the templates all done. If it wasn’t MS Word, CorelDraw or the Internet being incredibly sluggish, there was problem delaying me all day! It wrangled me so much, Duodenal Donald kicked-off.
The snow fell again. A slight covering and the wind with it was more violent now.
I decided to make another brew and take some more photographs. But was not going to make the same mistake as in the earlier shoot – I took all of these pictures through the window.
I tried using the Nikon camera, but it was beyond salvation.
I’ve not had a good day, really.
Eventually, I got the templates done – I’m too tired to double-check them at the moment. No doubt whatsoever that many errors will be found when I do get around to checking them.
I got a pastie put in the oven warming, and the CCC and meatballs, with added sliced capsicum, in the saucepan, I was determined not to burn it this time.
I returned and turned off the computer. I was wrecked mentally. All the things that went wrong, the time lost, and I didn’t mention the wee-weeing, did I – it was repetitive!
: I heard a thud, or loud, dull plop like sound, that had come from the kitchen area. Panic-Mode-Engaged, I hastened to have a look at what had happened. It had to be something severe or dangerous if I heard the noise without the hearing aids in?
A fresh burning smell welcomed me as I got in the kitchen.
Oh, dearie me! After a few seconds in Sherlock Holmesian Mode, I found that the beef pastie in the oven had exploded! The minced beef, onion, gravy and pastry was glued to the door and all over the stove! Crying was one option! On the bright side, the place smelt like the old roadside cafes used to! Hehehe!
I scraped off as much of the gunk as I could. Then got the Cif oven cleaner spray, and did my best (failing miserably) to get the oven and door cleaned. I even remembered to keep stirring the Chillie-Con-Carne, as I tried to clean the oven, so the saucepan wouldn’t burn!
There was no repeated muttering, spitting out of the terrible parentage-questioning word. Bile growing in the stomach. Depression, or feeling sorry for myself, at all.
I got the other remaining pastie from the fridge then dropped it in the white plastic eating-bowl (dare not use the oven again). Then poured the pan full of CCC over it. Well, another surprise, no sooner had I buried the pie with the CCC, it expanded and came to the top of the mixture, and burst open?!?! My puzzlement knew no bounds!
Then, I went to get the half-packet of brown bread thins, from where I just knew I’d left it… But no, it wasn’t there! I was sure I’d saved it in the bread bin, thinking at the time, how well it had worked out, having some for this feast, and with Sainsbury’s order due in the morning? (Although, of course, they may not send any, or might send a can of Turpentine as one of their infamous substitutes). The search had to be curtailed before the meal got too cold.
Despite the horrible, frustrating, failure-ridden day it’s been, the meal went down a treat! Flavour rating, 8.2/10! I put the basin etc. in the bowl to soak overnight.
I grabbed the next in line ‘Heartbeat’ DVD from the box and got it playing.
I was happily viewing away, and a thought came to me. (ideas do that sometimes, not very often, mind) Did I drop the bread thins down between the chairs last night? Oh, course, I had to get my body manipulated in such a position that I could shine the wind-up torch down into the darkness to look for any signs of the bread… Why, now that I’d eaten the meal is a mystery?
BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) twinged, and has been painful ever since… of course, there was no bread down there!
01:40hrs: I stirred into life, with many aches, pains, stiffnesses and a violently Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley session! Which put an end to any thoughts of nodding off again. More so, when, as I was tackling the risky business of heaving my gelatinous body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. As the poor old feet and toes hit the deck to take my midriff-heavy weight, not only did I once again nearly topple back into the recliner but almost went over as Shirley gave my shoulder a right shaking!
This was concerning. Not why it was happening, obviously the Peripheral Neuropathy inspired Nicodemus Neurotransmitters, were playing up. But a worry, over how I am going to get around this morning. As if by magic, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley suddenly sank back to barely a tremor, she was persistent with it mind you, but this did not hamper my movement. Phew! Bit of luck there!
I came close to having an involuntary leak (well there was a tiny drop or two. However, the PPs coped with it well) and I got to the bucket in time. More good fortune? Worrying this is! Haha! The wee-wee mode was so different again. It was in the WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) style.
So, off to the kitchen, to do the medicationing and make a brew of Assam tea. The sphygmomanometer Sys and Dia results were lower today, the Pulse was up a bit, and the temperature showed up as just ‘Low’.
I took the tea into the computer/front/junk room, and as I got seated int the swivel-chair, I noticed that the veins might be coming back up again on the right leg?
I grafted (mentally) away for five hours, getting the many photographs into yesterdays blog, eventually getting it finished and posted off. I put a lot of stuff on Pinterest, then went on the WordPress Reader section.
Went to make another brew, and took a photograph of the amazingly blue sky. It had been drizzling early in the night, and as I opened the window to take the shot, the cold raindrops fell in onto my bare, ginormously-elephantine, flabby tummy. By Jiminne, I jumped. Hahaha!
Then I went on Facebooking. It’ll be a long job, with all the Nottingham photos to go in the albums. I’ll be back, eventually. Blimey, three hours later, still not finished, and time for the ablutions to be done. Put Computer Cameron in sleep-mode, and off for a limp to the wet room. I’m back.
Ablutionary Activities Report!
Well, that could have gone better!
I dropped the shower-seat moving it, and hit my right knee and foot!
Took a wee-wee, and found Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
Lost half-an-hour stopping it bleeding!
Dropped the toothpaste (2), then the brush (2)!
Split the gum at the back, near one of the toothache teeth!
Cut the mole on my right cheek!
Dropped the shower gel, it burst open, and I had a mini-skating session…
Then went down on the right knee!
More time and mess in getting back up again!
Had a medicating marathon!
Tore the first pair of PPs out of the new bag!
Clouted the left knee this time.
I tried to wash of some spots from the feet. They were new growths!
It’s a damned good job I didn’t have to face the Sock-Glide!
Oh, Silver Lining Search Result: There were no toe-stubbings!
Weary as I was after the session, escaping to town yesterday, with it being colder, I had to wear a pair of socks for the first time in months. They now had to be hand-washed. I got them done, wrung and hung. Well, not really hung. I used the stand-up airer top get them dried on. But must remember to keep checking and moving them.
They are the fantastically comfortable, diabetic, non-binding, non-constrictive, circulatory Diabetic Bamboo Socks. Seam-free, moisture-wicking, anti-bacterial hosiery, made of Bamboo fibre. Expensive, but worth every penny! Anyone diabetic, or on Warfarin, should try them. I got mine from Amazon.
Not having worn any for so long with the toe-nails unable to be cut, I feared the nails might damage the socks and give me some pain, but they were fine.
I then got the bath towel in the flat airer. I worked out a way to thread the cloth, so most of the thin heating bars are effective. Smarmy Smug Mode Adopted!
Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, taking a photo of the dank morning outside as I did so. The drizzle was still falling a bit. There were no noises, from any dogs barking or vehicles that I could hear at all. Nor any signs on tellurians either.
I hope the worlds not ended and nobody has told me? Hahaha! I’m not wearing any socks again, with me not going out.
I’ve not heard anything from the Antiocoagulatipon and Thrombosis clinic about my INR blood test yet? The level might be fine. I checked the new growths, spots whatever on the feet again. Oddly there didn’t seem to be as many as earlier after the shower? But the body is lymphatic and etiolated. I wonder
I got ontop updating this blog. As far as here, and had to go on CorelDraw to get some graphics done. Back in a while (probably about November! Har-har!)
I was making some measurement to use in a graphicalisation, and ‘blimus and flipping ‘eck,’ it just went so dark, I thought my earlier joke about the end of the world might come true after all! Hahaha! It stayed dull for a couple of minutes, then it brightened up a tad?
Cornish pattie with BBQ sauce. Potatoes a chicken BBQ stick, and a pot of tasteless raspberry jelly. Taste Rating: 7.5/10.
The Bonners BBQ sauce was delightfully tangy and sweet at the same time. I wish I’d bought more than one tin, now. Tsk!
I got the pots washed, and stripped, getting ready for the kip under the quilt, and doubts came over me about a few things. Had I got the bank card safe? Where were the house keys and fob? A few other uncertainties as well, I had to investigate. All okay. During the search for peace of mind, I came across the Anticoagulation INR blood test result, in the hallway, posted earlier.
The paperwork had a new layout and page to it. (Or I’d just not noticed it before?)
It now shows: Note To Patients: On the day of your appointment if you are waiting for your dosage, you should be available between 3:00pm and 6:00pm on the telephone number we have for you. So we can contact you with any urgent changes to your dose. If you are not contacted, you should continue with your present dose until your new Anticoagulation Therapy record is received. Fair enough!
The INR level was well down at 2.1 but within the range. The service is struggling midst the Coronavirus mess, and the next test was not due until 23/06/2020, in two weeks time. A lot of pressure on then, I believe they have had nurses taken from them to work elsewhere, and new nurses training for the Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis testing unit.
Finally, I got down into the £300, second-hand recliner. Because the other morning doing the ablutions, Rado 4 Extra was offering ‘Yes, Minister’, the first episode, it had rekindled my liking of the programme, and I put on and started to watch the DVD of the first series.
That did the trick! I was soon off, into the (Dream filled) land of Nod.
00:00hrs: Already up, and finished working on this updating of the Tuesday post, and sent it off.
Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I Pinterested a few snaps, next onto Facebook. Spent some time on Facebooking. But it eases and pleases me, and I enjoy it. Then, on to CorelDraw to get some graphics done.
Oh, Gawd! From nowhere Dizzy Dennis attacked, I really did think I was going to fall off of the swivel chair, and a headache developed at the same time, on the right side of the head! Enough, when I felt stable enough, I got sat down with a drink of orange juice, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, which prevented me from nodding off for a while, but sure enough, as things calmed down further, I drifted off into the land of nod!
I stirred around 06:00hrs. Disinclined to wake or get up, and the Thought-Storms started. The need for a wee-wee arose, and the urgency increased. So at least that got me and my oleaginous, body out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, not-working, disconnected rickety recliner, and to the wet room.
A brand new style off wee-wee today, (It’s interesting having so many ailments!) I’ve Christened the mode as UDYP (Urgent-Deep-Yellow-and-Painful). It’s encouraging to be able to report that Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding at all! All done, washed the hands and contact points, and as I was going out of the door, I had to go back in to deal with another rushing-gush wee-wee of the same variety!
I wiped and washed again, and off to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing.
For some reason, unknown to me, as the bare feet got on the floor tiles, they were so cold to the touch?
The BP readings were different this morning. SYS well up, at 173, DIA 83, Pulse 77, and Temperature was 37.8°c. When I got out the tablet dispensers, I worked out that I had enough up until Saturday morning. This is when ILC, Ballerina, Comforter, Obersturmbannfuhreress, and Warden, Deana, said they should be delivered by the Carrington Chemist. I made a brew…
Gordon Bennett! The first sip was taken, and agony invaded the teeth! Cricky, it made me jump! Of course, the toothache was well set in, and kept on all through the day! Gragnangles!
Coronavirus is to blame for many of my new ailments.
The chemist cannot get the Saccades Sandra spray yet!
The paediatrist is closed until further notice!
The dentist is closed until further notice!
The Audio Clinic (Running out of hearing aid batteries) closed until further notice!
The Opticians closed until further notice!
I decided I’ll see if I can get out and about later, and try the audio clinic for some batteries. That is if I can manage the haul up that terribly steep and demanding Park Row hill. Might I change my mind later?
I took a photo of Chestnut Walk. I think there is a free car parking space available. A seldom known, extraordinary happening here at Windwood Heights?
I got on with updating. The rain and darkness repeatedly came and went, and finally, the updating got finished. The job was all done and dusted.
Off I trudged to the wet room.
The ablutions were soon got into with gusto. The shaving didn’t go exactly according to plan. But the teggies were painless, well not pain-free, cause of Toothache Thomas, but at least I didn’t have any bleeding from the gums.
The pins were looking a little battered, and still very much of the ghostly-anaemic design! The volumingargantuan, onerous hog-like, ponderosity, bulk, flabby stomach, may well have gained a couple of inches of girth overnight? But I’m sure I did not do any nocturnal nibbling?
After getting myself dressed (I can do it on my own now, you know, Hahaha!), I pottered about faffling, panicking, and double-checking everything before I dare set out to catch the bus to town to get the hearing-aids (And take some photographs).
I went for a wee-wee, and this time it was of the SS (Short-Sharp) mode of exudation and was the colour of a suppuration, it really was yellowy-green! Don’t be jealous, though, if you live long enough, it can still happen to you. Then all these exotic, appealing ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas and mysteries I write about, will become apparent and understandable for you. I didn’t mention logical on purpose. (Hahaha!)
A semi-serious, convoluted message came from my EQ! It was certain; The trip out was going to be frustrating and depressing. I should consider not going out! Mmm? The Emotional Quotient is rarely, if ever wrong! Foolishly I ignored the warning and got everything needed in the three-wheeler guide, made sure the bus-pass, door swipe, keys and crossword book were taken with me. Double checked the lights, faucets and electrics, all seemed okay, and off I went. With a big bag of recyclable material over my shoulder (not really, it was on top of the trolley, Haha!), and out I hobbled.
Down, bag in the bin, and ambled along Chestnut Drive, as the drizzle started to come, camera at the ready. I stopped for a few moments under the Chestnut tree while the rain was more substantial, but it soon weakened to just the odd spit falling.
As I got to the bus stop, I met Welsh William. I told him about Timothy Price’s marvellous clip of the owlet and told him if he gave me his email address, I’d forward the link. Then told him of what happens in the video. No interest was shown, which surprised me, I thought he’s loved to have seen it. He went off talking to someone else. Ah, well! Bless him, his free choice.
I limped over to where Peggy and Christine were nattering and bothered them. (Hehehe!) Peggy had on a seriously good face-mask, black, and it looked good quality built. Christine had hers on, and me too! They then told me that, from next Monday, anyone travelling on a bus must wear a mask. I decided to get another or two while out today.
They all got on the Bestwood bound bus with some other tenants, and I was all alone again. Then, slowly it dawned on me why! I’d got the bus times wrong once-again, Humph! I think that my EQ was right! With only going out once in months, I’d forgotten about the L9 service now being on a permanent Saturday roster, meaning a bus every two hours! I did feel a clot!
Back to the flat, and I took a few more photographs en route. One of Winchester Court main entrance. The flowers outside Winwood Court’s foyer, they were beautiful, especially so, with the petrichor, the aroma of earth and rain! Lovely! Then snapped the frontage of Winwood Court. A lot of open windows today?
Back to the apartment, and put these pictures into the computer. A letter had been received, telling us work will be taking place on the roof and will be noisy.
It’s going to be a long day, now I have to catch the 10:30hrs bus. (If I knew then, what I know now, I wouldn’t have bothered going out, the hearing aids batteries, and a mask so I can get on a bus, persuaded me to go though! Of course; as you will read later, I managed to get neither of wanted items! (Note to Self: In future, do not ignore the EQ!) Grumblecronkackers!
I set out once again to get the bus, at the right time this time, for the 10:30 L9. I was the only passenger to get on, but the bus was fullish, and with the side-saddle seats not in use, I had to sit on the outside of a standard chair, and hang onto the three-wheeler, to prevent it rolling away at each corner the Graham Hill fan, the driver took.
I was feeling worn out by the time we got into Nottingham. I was going to call into Wilko and the Poundland shop to see if the yhad any face-masks in. But, Wilko’s had a note on their window, telling us they had none left, but would do their best to get some for us!
And the socially-distanced queue for the Poundland shop filed around the corner for hundreds of yards! So, I had a walk to the Poundstretcher store on Milton Street. This where I got the face-mask from last week. Of course, they had none left in stock, either! Gragnackles!
However, I did get of my favourite McVities orange flavoured chocolate biscuits. A bottle of Woolite washing liquid and a bag of black bags.
As I came out of the shop, into the more torrential rain now, I met Gertrude, an old friend from years ago, and we had a natter in a doorway to keep dry. But her telling me she had just gone tot he Audio Centre to get herself some hearing aids, and they were closed, did not do me a lot of good! Silver-Lining Search Result: At least this saved me hobbling up the hill to find out!
I made my way through Trinity Square, avoiding the now-famously suicidal and dangerous to others, Deliveroo pavement cyclists.
It was a depressing hobble. What with so few people about, and those I met or spoke to were all down in the dumps, or in a snappy mood.
The change of rules for the bus passengers having to wear face-masks, causing another shortage of supplies.
The drizzling rain soaking us all through.
The much colder weather, and a general atmosphere of, well, what’s the words I’m looking for? Depression is too strong a word… oh, I don’t know though!
I walked down and through the Slab Square and onto Wheeler Gate, noticing the two, what looked like new Police Community Officers, in their brand new uniforms and stab-vest, watching as they ambled around, ignoring the pavement cyclists, the vehicles parked on double-yellow lines. A scuffle taking place for a moment on Long Row encouraged them to walk up King Street in the opposite direction.
I called in the Poundland shop there, and they were not busy at all. The manager even greeted me as I went in, asking me, cheerily; “To take your time, no rush, you might spend more then!” Hahaha! It worked, no face masks available there either, but I did spend a bit. Buying, 2 lemon-sherbet concentrated disinfectants, (No, I’m not joking) 2 Lemon Verbena & Cucumber air sprays, (No, I’m not jesting here, either, Hehe!) 1 can of beef in gravy for a quid. 1 pack of Indian seedless grapes, a packet of walnut-halves, and cashew nuts. A packet of BBQ chicken pieces, and a packet of pork slices with stuffing! And a pack of six mini-jelly pots! By gum, the lady who helped me put them through earned her can of G & T!
I paid-up and had a hobble in the rain to St John’s Church, and called in the Sainsbury’s small shop, to see if they had any face-masks available. Nope! Shame! But they did have some decent looking tomatoes of which I bought a pack and some seafood sticks.
I had a wander around the City Centre, before going to the bus stop, cause I had plenty of time. I spotted the imitation police officers, now on Upper Parliament Street.
I made my way to the top of Queen Street. The drizzle was easier now. A police car sped by, followed by an ambulance. And the Theatre Royal & Royal Concert Hall, surely one of the ugliest building ever built?
Then as I was going down to the bus stop, one of the infamous Deliveroo cyclists, floated down Queen Street at a fast rate of knots, in the wrong direction. Queen Street is one way, up the hill!
I considered pointing this illegal Road Traffic Act naughtiness out to the two heroic imitation policemen who were still nearby, with their hands in their new tunic pockets, keeping away from the earlier well avoided, Long Row scuffle.
But they had given me some rum looks when I photographed them earlier, so I thought better of it. Hahaha!
The L9 arrived with two drivers, and they kept me out in the rain for a few minutes while they chatted. No help offered in getting my heavily overloaded walker-guide onto the bus. I had to sit in the same deadly seat as going into town. They got off, of the bus.
I got one of the chicken pieces out of a bag to nibble. When the boss man got back on, he said: “There’s no eating allowed on the bus, youth!” And kindly offered me a scowl, worthy of a David Cameron sneer! And so I stopped eating!
The ride home was uncomfortable and I banged my ankles, elbows and knuckles, more than a few times as I fought to stop the trolley wandering off each time the bus screeched around a corner.
I was well in the dumps by the time we got back to Winwood Heights.
EQ was right! Colin Cramps were coming on already!
As I got into the flat’s foyer, Josie came behind me, and we had a little natter. When she heard of my problems in getting a face-mask, she fetched one for me to have. How kind of her! I got the fodder put away, and made a mug of Glengettie.
I updated this diary for a couple of hours, then, very late on now, I got the beef nosh sorted out. Beef and gravy, with extra caramelised gravy added, potatoes, garden peas, apple pies, seedless grapes, and lemon yoghourt. Flavour rating: 8/10.
So late, so tired, and soon slid into a much-needed sleep.
An Irritable day, with the odd pleasant highlights.
03:30hrs: I stirred into imitation life, and awaited the brain to join me. (It took a few moments).
As I maneuvred my cumbersome, wobbly-blobby frame up on my feet, I noticed that the Clopidogrel allergy inspired blotches and lumps had started to return. Ah-well!
The need for a wee-wee arrived, which I took, and then to the kitchen to do the medicationalisationing as needed. It was of the WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee style! But no pain, at all with it. Nice! The SYS had come down winsomely at last.
I opened the thick-framed, can’t get at to clean, letting rain in, anti-photographer designed, light & view-blocking new windows, to take a shot of Chestnut Walk below, and crikey, was the wind blowing in!
The medications were taken, and a welcoming mug of Glengettie tea was imbibed!
Off to the computer, and got started on doing up this blog on Blogger. But as I was doing so and searching for graphics, I spotted a comment from Tim Price. He’s put how to get to the old (not block) blogger, without going through a lot of bother and confusion. I tried it. An amazingly simple way to do it, thanks, Tim. I’m back in the editor before last now, so no full alignment button, but I’ll manage without it. Yipee!
I set to creating this blog and did a little CorelDrawing to get some graphics to use.
I remembered that my Iceland delivery was due, a pleasant change that, remembering something! Haha! So I had to stop computerisationing, and get the ablutions done, to be ready in time, in case the delivery comes early in the 8>10 given window.
It was drizzling in the breeze, so I took these shots through the balcony window, the first one towards my left and Sherwood, Mapperley, and Carrington.
The second picture was taken to my right, towards Daybrook, and Arnold, the North of Nottingham. It shows where the garages used to be at the dead-end of Chestnut Walk. I don’t know what the Council or Nottingham City Homes plans are for the area. It’s been fenced off.
It seems that red cars are making a comeback?
As a heavy shower, blown in a blustery than earlier wind started, I grabbed the four-pronged walking stick and hobbled off (rather nattily, I thought), to the wet room!
I assembled everything needed (apart from those I forgot about, hehe!), and amassed them outside the door, and turned on the shower power. Before I could do anything, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.
I had a sat-down mini-marathon of a wait for the evacuation to begin. And a partially successful go at the crossword book. But nothing moved! I could sense it wanted to, but Constipation Konrad was preventing any movement. So, I gave up, checked things were not messy, all was okay, and I got on with washing the dandies and getting the teggies cleaned.
As I was getting the teeth-cleaning things ready, I had to divert a few paces back to the Throne. It took me some time again, but when things did start, the motion was excruciating but short-lived. Leaving an aroma, with me coughing, that if it could be bottled, might be used as a nerve gas by the military (Hahaha!)
Now I have batteries; the power-brush was utilised and without a single gum cut! (Smug-Mode-Engaged!) Then, on to the shaving. A few dropsies, but fewer than usual. Razors (3), and the Shaving foam can, and no, I say, No Cuts! (Top lip curls in Elvis fashion and Smug-Mode goes up to Defcon 2. Hehehe!)
Even betterer still, in the shower! Not a single visit from Dizzy Dennis, that’s never happened before? (I’m not sure whether to happy about it or worry over it, Haha!) No shower-head drops! No involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing either! (Smug-Mode goes up to Defcon 2.2 Hehehe!) Mind you, I used one of those freebie hotel-sized soap tablets, that produced about five dropsies.
Oh, and no knocking into the shower chair or the grab bars either! Fanwondertasic!
The medicationing was also of a far less painful exercise. Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were less bothersome. Even the feet, not the toes, seemed less troublesome. Arthur Itis was in a rough mood with me, mind you. Overall, a decent session!
I got semi-dressed; No socks, too painful to use the sock-glide, anyway, it’s been that long, I’m not sure I can remember how to use it, now. Tsk! Got PPs, trousers, a jumper, and the slippers on.
With the Porcelain Throne extra-curricular activities, I got the ablutions finished much later than planned, but just before 08:00hrs, so in time, in case the Iceland delivery came early.
On the computer, to update this post. Now Tim Price has shown me how to get the Classic Editor going; this, even without the full-alignment option, is far better, more utible than the Google Blogger to use. Thanks, Tim!
Five minutes later, the natty Dusty Springfield ♫ , I only want to be with you! ♫ tune rang out from the front door.
Someone had let him in. He’s left the bags in the hallway near the door, and offered to put them through into the entrance for me. But I was in amazingly good, rude, health (for me, anyway) and feeling up for it, so declined his kind offer, and slipped him a can of pink G & T. I know he likes them! I got them through to the kitchen and deposited them where I could find room. Haha!
Not such a big order today, but the fridge was still a tad crammed with nosh by the time I’d finished putting things away.
I then got a pack of small fresh mushrooms in the crock-pot for later. Seasoned them, accidentally from the hickory bottle, in error for the Light Soy sauce bottle. Bungle-Grumplewuncks! But, hey-ho, I just added some Soy to it as well. So, fingers crossed.
The wholemeal deli rolls were flattened as only Iceland damaging goods skills can be. However, this will not stop me from eating them. I plan for some of the Robirch skinless sausages, two of each to go into the individual rolls, with some sliced tomatoes and the mushrooms as a side? The problem with this plan being, the tomatoes are Morrocan. The last time I had some, they were really, in fact, not eatable! Little juice, bitter and rock hard! But of course, these may be sweet and tasty? Pigs might fly! Haha!
As I got back to blogging again, the landline burst forth with its flashing light. It was Brother-in-law-Pete. advising me that they had not received the link for yesterday’s blog. So I investigated and found I had not sent it. I made the excuse that with all the trouble with getting back on WordPress had thrown me off course. I apologised and promised to get it sent off straight away. I did feel a fool!
I went on Facebook next.
I heard a familiar yapping and went to see which dog it was. It was the fussy-full of life little black dog. His, or her tail never stops wagging, doesn’t stop, only for the odd sniff here and there. Lovely animal.
I took a snap that shows what I mean by the new windows being light & view blocking. I’ve been spoilt by the old windows, they were one turnable giant sheet of glass, that was easy to clean, and gave me freedom when it came to photographing.
I got the nosh prepared and served up. This meal was given a 6/10 for flavour and taste. The mushroom that I cocked-up cooking and put the Hickory in to season instead of the Soy sauce, then added light-soy, were just about edible, but not very nice. The Morrocan tomatoes were less foul than last weeks but still horrible. The delightful seedless grapes, and tasty skinless sausage baps, were excellent!
I put the TV on to check if there was anything worth viewing and saw some back-to-back documentaries were showing, on channel 91. So I went to get the pots washed up.
Then returned to watch the TV.
But the concentration on the engrossing and I think a most interesting documentary was lost. Lost to the Thought-Storming. That was worrying, fearing and at times a little panicky. My confidence was at a low ebb.
3:30hrs: I woke in a confused state, yes, even more than usual! The Thought-Storms were not making much sense either, a sort of medley of verbal mayhem, mostly making no logical or appertaince. self-arguments, that should have been of no concern, in my bonce!
I took a shot of my, painful tootsies, no idea why? Then I rose gingerly up onto my poor agony-ridden pins and toes, and the brain seemed to be still sat in £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, none-working, recliner.
I, for some reason, decided to try and master the annoyingly difficult WordPress editor again. Mainly, because the Google blogger was about as bad, although it does have a ‘full justify’ button, and no damned confusing blocks.
It’s no good, I’m giving up. The full-justify doesn’t work!
I’ve taken over three hours to get this far.
To complicated, frustrating.
Grammarly no longer works on WordPress!
I am most frustrated and annoyed!
The instructions on how to get rid of the new crap editor was followed, and the things that I should chose were no on the page.
02:30hrs: I woke, in no mood to become active in mind or body. Gawd blimey, I was still so tired! Never have I had such Clinomania, and reluctance to wake up, let alone get up! A little discussion between my brain vs my lack of willpower and interest in anything, resulted in the recreance winning this time, and I nodded off into sweet obliviousness.
03:10hrs: I stirred again, and had another battle with myself as to get up or not! I seemed to be in a state of hypnagogia again. I felt I had to rise, whatever the body and ailments told me, and I was determined to. I fell asleep again!
04:10hrs: I came back to reality yet again. This time with the need for a wee-wee, forcing me to beat my reluctance for returning to the land of the living. Robotically, I inched my ginormous wobbly-stomached burdened body out of the creaking, £300, second-hand c1968, grotty, repellently beige-coloured recliner, with the sticks assistance, I got up onto my painfully long toenailed feet.
As I struggled to get to the wet room, I espied signs of nocturnal nibbling on the Ottoman tray! But at the time, no feelings of guilt were sensed, for the wee-wee was getting more urgent now!
Unfortunately, in my haste, I knocked corner stand, and I heard things fall off of it. No stopping, onward, the wee-wee must be released! And what a wee-wee! An HPSAUOC (High-Pressure-Sprinkly-Unexpectedly-Orange-Colour) style. But not a long one, and no pain with it, so that was good!
As I was cleaning and medicating Little Inchies bleeding fungal lesion, in between the stabs of pain as the Daktacort® 2% w/w Miconazole nitrate and hydrocortisone cream was applied, it dawned on me, (things like this do happen (occasionally). I spotted some empty clementine juice cans on the Ottoman.
I wonder if these might be the reason the orange wee-wee?
The ankle-ulcer was looking far betterer, and Arthur Itis was not acting up too much either, which was a plus.
It might have been my eyes or desire, but when I sneezed, I’m sure the Big Belly Bernard shook less than usual? (Well, I can dream?)
Also, and as well as, Anne Gyna was kind to me. No Dizzy Dennis or Reflux Roger, Shaking Shaun or Back-Pain-Brenda visits!
Fair enough, Toothache Tim and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, and a sore throat was developing. But overall, this getting up late seems to suit me? But, of course, most likely it just fooled the other ailments temporarily. Arnie Schwarzeneggers? They’ll be back!Hehehe!
Washed and off to the kitchen. Where I took a distance shot from the kitchen unwanted, light & view-blocking, thick-framed windows, there were obviously designed by someone suffering from ‘Mere-Exposure Effect’ syndrome.
It was my Zyrophobia suffering, supercilious Brother-in-law Pete, who made me take a close-up, of the City Hospital. The poor lad will be in there this morning, having another biopsy done on his mystery ailment. I thought it might cheer him up a tad, reading this if he can afterwards. The yellow rectangle is the area I zoomed into for the second shot.
All the best, Pete, mate! Nowt you can do, but await the results now. I pray they are good news. I have thought you’d have escaped and taken a photo of the flats? Hehehe!
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, took the medications and got the thermometer and sphygmomanometer out. The machine was like me earlier this morning, not interested in working!
It took me three tries to get it to work. (it took me the same to get up! Hahaha!)
The plates of meat were giving me some stick, and for some unknown reason, the area around where the ankle ulcer comes up now and then was extremely itchy. Yet there were no signs of any inflammation or new growth? With the nails getting ever longer, I’d continued not to wear socks, I even took the slippers off to ease things.
But they’ll go back on after the ablutions are done.
The stomach felt a little firmer, I think. But this might be and usually is, a prewarning of the innards about to kick off. I anticipate a battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Conrad to ensue. Which will prevail I wouldn’t guess. Lately, it seems to go from one extreme to the other nearly every day. Still, it makes for a bit of interest. Haha!
Toothache Tim kicked off on the first sip of tea! That put the mockers on drinking ant brew for the rest of the day. Gangleboggleisations!
I made a start on the blogging update. It was as if someone was turning on a tap every half-hour or so. I swear you can see the imprint of the four-pronged walking stick, and outline of my feet in the carpet, to and from the wet room, I had hobble there so many times! Silver-Lining Search Result: But, at least I got the update done in reasonably good time, with only Shuddering Shoulder Shirley giving any real hassle. My thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis! Bless you, all!
After the umpteenth wee-wee, I made a mug of Glengettie tea and went on CorelDraw while it cooled down before trying it. Argh! Toothache-Tim, was not pleased, in the least! I threw it away. That’s the end of my tea drinking for the day! I took an extra Codeine 30g. (Too late now of course. Silly old sausage!)
I set up the template for today’s blog. Then went on the WordPress reader. Then onto the Facebooking, which I enjoy so much. Then it was time for the ablutions to be tended to.
I’d done the teeth, bloodlessly, but it was a bit painful with Toothache Tim nudging his way into the scene. (Swank-Adopted!) While I was moving the clothes, I’m sure I saw the shape of a rabbits head in the moved flannels. Can anyone else see it, or am I going daft? Or maybe I should say, dafter?
I photographed the stomach before and after the shower. But there was no difference as I could see.
The shaving activity brought about a few dropsies, not many. Razors (4), shaving foam can (2), and a decentish clouting of the back of the hand against the sink. The showering went fine, in fact so well, I was considering giving myself a medal. Hahaha!
I got dried off and set about the perfumery and medication duties. These took longer than the teggies, shaving and showering out together! Olive-piled the ear-holes first. No Saccades Sandra spray left to use, Grungleclapskin! Applied the Germoloid cream (Wince!). Then got some after-shave on the one tiny cut. Sprayed the Brute deodorant over the elephantine body. Last of the Brute spray used up! Got the Phopain gell well-rubbed into the knees. And carefully, Note no toe-stubbing or dropping of the showerhead again! Smug Mode Adopted! I made my way to the front room to get clothed.
I had to get the slippers on, a sharp intake of breath, and a silently mumbled ‘Argh!’ later, and I was ready to get the black bags and recycling prepared for taking downstairs.
While doing this, I decided that tomorrow, I will try to catch a bus to town, (if they are running) and visit, (if they are open), the Poundland shop, now my curfew has been eased. It’s all a bit vague innit? Later I’ll ask on the Winwood Heights Facebook, is anyone knows about the buses and Poundland.
I got the bags made up, and onto the three-wheeled trolley walker. Off to the waste chute room. Gawd! the toes and plates were giving me agony! I pondered over whether going out tomorrow was a good idea or not after all?
I struggled a bit getting the bags in the chute, not because they were heavy or large, they weren’t. The problem was Shuddering Should Shirley had kicked off again, and she meant business this time. This encouraged the right legs involuntary drop-something and have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. Nearly had me over, so it was a good thing I was in such confined space at the time!
I left the trolley in the lift lobby. taking a moody photo of it, with the shadows, as I returned to the flat, to pick up the fob key, just in case when I went down with the big bag of recyclables, I got locked out. (It has happened more than once, Tsk!)
Back and collected the trolley, using the walls in the narrow hallway, so I didn’t worry if I had a funny turn, the dancing returned, or Dizzy Dennis visited.
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was merely giving the odd twitch now, but I knew she had not finished with me yet.
Waiting for the lift, I got the camera out, ready for when the lift doors opened. I’m glad no one was in it at the time. Haha!
Down to the ground floor. Met and had a few words with Ethel in the lobby. Then through the caretaker’s passage to the bins. Both of the caretakers were there outside, and Steve took the bag from me. A few words, during which Shirley gave them a display of quality Shoulder Shuddering. Which drew looks between the two men, and an “Are yer alright? and frowned foreheads. It’s so embarrassing when someone is nearby when this happens. I said I was fine, thanks. I must have looked a right pillock as I shook my way back inside.
I increased the heat to high in the crock-pot with the potatoes in, and opened a tin of peas and put them in a saucepan. Then, as Shirley was easing off, Duodenal Donald started, a bad do too, supported with a bit of stabbing from Anne Gyna. Ah, well, things had been to calm earlier on, it had to come.
I could find no details about the buses on the website. So asked on Winwood Heights Facebook, if anyone knew about the buses or Poundland store. Hugh ‘thinks’ the L9 is running in a Saturday timetable. If so, That’ll do me.
I decided to take some photos from the balcony. Seemed a good idea at the time.
I got the right side Metal-Spring controlled, that needs the recoiling bit pressed and pulled at the same time to do open it, (potentially lethal, but okay for Winwood Heights old folks to use) with merely a bruised finger and elbow this time. Then took a couple of pictures.
Tried Josie’s door again. No answer.
Tired out and still shaking a bit, I got the nosh prepared. I ate it in an auto-mode, no idea why, but as the concentration gave way to fatigue, I’m sure I enjoyed it.
Wash the pots up, and as the dying sunshine blasted its last beams on earth, I got the camera and tried to take a decent shot of the scene.
It dawned on me then, I can’t remember using the Porcelain Throne today? But being in the languorous, lackadaisical, lethargic state of mind I was in, I wasn’t sure or certain of anything.
I’m not sure what happened for the next half-hour or so, I sort of came-back into focus as I was in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with my legs up high on the old swivel chair, and deep in thought about tomorrows plans to get out to town on the bus. Then I remembered that this will not be possible, I’d forgotten about Jenny’s helping me out ordering stuff for me, it’s being delivered Tuesday. Hey-ho! As much as I was looking forward to getting out, for some reason, this did not bother me? Maybe, I had underlying fears of going out after so many weeks lodged in the flat?
I soon found that Sweet Morpheous was uninterested in letting me get any rest. The Thought-Storms began, tormenting me with memories that I hadn’t recalled for years. I’d guess it was gone midnight by the time I finally managed to nod of.
02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed!
Getting my unhealthy, aged, gargantuan oversized-stomached decrepit, body from the recliner and onto my feet, was no easy matter this morning. But apart from Arthur Itis’s knees, the overgrown toenails, the ankle ulcer, the leg ulcer, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Anne Gyna, there was little bothering. Hehehe!
I limped over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and painfully proceeded with passing a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee! It still confuses me, how overnight, I cannot remember struggling out of the recliner at all, let alone hobbling over to the bucket or and using it, but it was half-filled? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
As I entered the kitchen, I thought I’d photograph the view of the new, unwanted, thick-framed, unliked, letting-rain-in, designed by a nasty, foul, cruel photographers-hating designer. That has been deliberately modelled so that no handicapped or elderly camera-user can take a photograph of Chestnut Walk below, without risking life and limb to climb the stepladder to see what he is shooting. Inevitably causing injury, upsetting Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Dizzy Dennis, or Back Pain Brenda. Toe-stubbing and falling off of the ladder is something that will no doubt please the architect or whatever Satanistic nerd, who planned the layout. But it doesn’t bother me! I fear a niggly-period just might be coming on, sorry.
I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me!
On my return, I found it just like it is now (Only whiter). WArden Dean called them for me to explain, and I got a booking for a call four-weeks later. A man arrived, agreed it was terrible and needed doing, especially as the foam had covered the electric socket and gone rock-hard. ‘I’ll get it booked in for you’. ‘Thanks, mate’. ‘No problem!’ But it doesn’t bother me!
All this was before I got the ankle and leg ulcers. Then got diagnosed with the Peripheral Neuropathy, (dying nerve-ends). Had to use the walking stick and/or the walker-guide. But it doesn’t bother me!
Then they rushed me into the hospital when I collapsed in the recliner, nothing found wrong? Then weeks later, I had the stroke! Spent six weeks in the stroke ward, then another four in a care home. Got back here, the right ankle giving way, dropping stuff, walking into things, collapsing with dizzies and Anne Gyna was confirmed as a new ailment for me. Then diagnosed as diabetic. But it doesn’t bother me!
The plastic cover still drops off now and then. The socket flashes with static. But no rush, I’ll be a goner soon, then it will be easier for them to mend things when I’m not in the way. ready for the next tenant. But it doesn’t bother me!
And now, five years later, I’ve given up all hope of getting an appointment to get the kitchen made-safe and cleaned up, and I am in no state to do it myself. But it doesn’t bother me!
Touch of self-pity and frustration crept in there big time, sorry again!
Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me!
Got Computer Cameron on, and made a needed graphic. Then started on updating the Friday blog. Thins went reasonable well, ailment-wise!
Got it completed and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Pinterested a while. Had a long, but enjoyable bash on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking’s. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Then, off to get the ablutions done.
Farcicalisation comes to mind. It was to be just a stand-up job, else I might miss the Iceland delivery (A farce in itself, tell you about further on) and it was too early to use the shower anyway. But as you will see, things didn’t go according to plan!
The first thing, I found, was that I needed the Porcelain Throne to be utilised! Boy, had Constipation Konrad made a comeback! Agano would not be too a severe word to describe what I went through, or rather, what went through me! Hahaha! I thought it was going to be one of those grinding marathon sessions again, I got the crossword book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me!
Silver-Lining Search Result: At least if I could rush the cleaning up, I could still have time to sort the black backs to the chute before the Iceland van arrived. The feet didn’t look too bad, but the discomfort was!
The gums were bleeding, I got a bit too enthusiastic in my rushing the brushing. Tsk! The dropsies weren’t too bad, mind. The razors had a few flying off trips. The three shaving cuts were spread about. When I tried to cut the hairs behind the ear lobes, one nick on each side, and when I caught one, yes, caught one razor, as it shot out of my other hand, I sliced a tiny bit of of my finger end. Damned bad luck at the end, I dried, deodoranted and dressed, and Dizzy Dennis paid me a call, as I was going through the door, clouting my right shoulder on the frame.
Now, this has kicked Shuddering Shoulder Shirley into action! Which is currently making typing a bit of a task. But it doesn’t bother me! I’m fed-up listening to myself moaning. A closer look at the toes and feet in the front room showed that the ulcer had died down a lot, far less inflamed. The nails need attention, I must ask Deana if she can ring the clinic for me on Monday.
I got the waste bags made up, and took the three to the waste chute on the walker-guide trolley. Both lifts are now working as well. Although not in use.
Back to Cameron, and on WordPressing. Half-an-hour or so later, the Intercom rang. I limped to the panel, and it was not working! I got the feeling, that if I was to snuff-it soon, the other tenants might hold a long-distance party… I feel sure my abysmal luck is spreading throughout the fabric of the building! What next is going to break-down?
It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him.
The freezer and fridge were chockablock now! I got some of the Jersey Royal new potatoes in the slow-cooker, added some Hickory flavouring.
Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! Lovely-jubbly! No taste to it mind, but it was cold and fizzy, highly acceptable! If this heat stays with us, I can’t see these lollies lasting long. Hehe!
The thermometer gave a reading of 34c indoors. I’m sure it must have been hotter outside. I took what was left of the sucker with me out into the balcony, which I thought was a good idea, to open a window and take some shots of the divine weather…
I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle!
I put my hands out in front of me to lessen the fast-arriving im[act with the wooden slated running boards… the iced lollipop disappeared the slats, never to be seen again! I instinctively tried to grab between the gaps, and I got a splinter in the same finger I’d sliced with the razor earlier… But it didn’t bother me!
Then, the Herculean task of getting back up again, which was handicapped by my trousers falling down! You couldn’t make it up! I was more bothered about anyone seeing me in this pickle than the pains I was in! Gluglegnatsworth!
Stil on my aching stinging knees, I crawled out of view back into the flat. What are the odds of someone seeing this littlecontretemps from another balcony? I cringed at the thought! But it doesn’t bother me!
I got myself sorted out. Getting back on my feet awkwardly, and banging the right knee and stubbing a toe! Cribblebogangonies! But it didn’t bother me!
It seemed that the braces had become unclipped during the tumble. I bravely tried to look nonchalant, and got the camera and wandered (Carefully!), back out to the balcony. I got the camera and scanned all the balcony’s in view, but didn’t see anyone in their p[od. (Fingers crossed) I took some shots of the folks below.
I must have caught the selector-wheel, cause one came out a different size and shape than the other? This dog above on the left is the one I names ‘Yappy’. His bark could be heard by me, all the way up here on the 12th-floor, and without my hearing aids in! I took a picture of the housing straight ahead. It looked almost like a painting? But the sunshine of strong in reality, but not in the resulting photo?
I took a photo of the puff clouds, and wallowed in the sunshine, leaning against the sharp edges on the balcony windows, and began to feel someone settled, almost at peace with the world. The warmth, the lack of breeze, and sounds of dogs and kids, but no vehicles… It felt so good to just relax…
Of course, the landline burst into sounds and flashes! No blooming rest for the wicked! I got back in, still moving wearily, and it was Sister Jane on the line. They (The Hospital) were keeping Pete in, ready for another biopsy by a specialist on Tuesday I think she said.
He’s got a television supplied and a laptop, they bring him newspapers when he wants one, has a choice of meals and is in a sideward with just two beds! But, it doesn’t bother me! In the stroke ward, it was packed solid with patients, some on trolleys, often I didn’t get a meal at all, the night staff always came and opened the window wide, which was right next to my bed, and they threw me out three weeks too early cause they needed the bed for an emergency. The ambulance staff threw me in a wheelchair, and left some of my stuff behind, but took some belonging to the chap in the next bed with me! I got put in a care home, full of patients who were not fully with it. Even there, one day, I didn’t get fed! Attempted stabbing, fights, I had to make a witness statement to the police… But it didn’t bother me! I’m not jealous, oh, no!
Jesting aside, (Not that the above incidents are not genuine!) I bet poor old Pete is bored rigid in hospital. His arm is deflating, so he even has no pains to distract. He’s always been an active bloke and is not too keen on medical institutions. I wonder if I dare nip out to see him? No, I’d better not. Knowing my luck the trousers would drop down in the sideward. Hahaha!
Nosh time. Bit of a heavy load, but I ate it all up. Not that it was very good, though. The garden peas were alright. Taste Rating: 5/10.
Got the pots pans and me washed up.
I got down earlier than ever, to watch some TV, with the aim of nodding off and getting caught up with some sleep.
Fat Chance! The ticker was racing away, the Thought Storms attacked, and after a few hours of failing to get to sleep, I couldn’t even manage any nod-off moments, plenty of rising for a wee-wee episode, mind. I decided to get back up and get Computer Cameron going to update this blog. And of course, escape the thought-storms.
Well, pickle my walnuts! My luck-status was confirmed!
So many things have bought injustices, jealousies and failures on my behalf today, I’m sick of my own whinging! All the lights were out on the Virgin box. I went through the usual procedures; pressed the reset button – Nope! Turned of the computer and rebooted – Nope! Turned off the power to everything, restarted computer and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box, Nope! Things looked bleak!
I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.
Still no Liberty-Global Virgin Media, but the box was actually now flashing two lights!
I went on to CorelDraw, and made up a Coronavirus Humour Graphic. This took about an hour to get done. Hello, three lights on Liberty-Global Virgin Media box now, things are looking up! I saved the graphic to the hard drive for later use and had another wee-wee (The orange tint was back).
Aha, four of the five Liberty-Global Virgin Media lights on now. So, I tried again to access the web… Great! I’m in! Slow going, but still!
I found the latest figures for Nottingham. These facts were being published regularly, but now they are hidden in sub-texts and different sections. Likely a Government ploy, as the figures are still rising overall, but now, in Nottingham anyway, more deaths in care homes, more than in Hospitals for the first time. Huh, I’m a cheer-chappie today, ain’t I?
Got on with the updating of this blog again. Then went back on CorelDraw to see if I could find inspiration for more graphics to use.
Harrumph! I give up trying to sleep cause I just can’t do it, and now I find myself falling asleep at the computer!
I went on Facebooking for a while.
I’d better get this finished off, checked and posted.
03:10hrs: I woke to want a wee-wee, and wrangled my woefully wobbly bellied mass, out of the £300, c1968, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner.
The ankle felt a bit delicate, so I made my way cautiously to the wet room, with the four-pronged walking stick and camera accompanying for me.
The feet were hurting with every step, or shuffle I should say. This first wee-wee was of the SFRTFGC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Grey-Cloudy) type.
To the kitchen, the light glowed on my plump but skinny limbed imitation-body.
I wondered what I might have been doing during the night.
Although it wasn’t, it looked like sweat? I think I’d had a decent, dream and a nocturnal-meaning-free sleep? In fact, it was an adequate rest of over five-hours! That in itself was something of a most-welcome miracle.
I then noticed the arms had gained a bit of colour back over yesternight, as well? But they soon paled again later.
I got the China mug of Thompsons Punjana tea made and sphygmomanometerised myself. The Sys had crept back up a smidge.
Took the medications, olive oiled the ear-holes, Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees. And the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, back to the wet room.
Oh, what a messy, bloody evacuation. The cleaning up took longer than movement did. That was a change, still a hurtful one, though.
Collected the mug of tea, and got the computer going. Did some graphics first, so I could start the temp[late for tomorrow later, I hope. Then on with the updating of the Friday post, hello, I’m losing it again. I meant the Thursday post. This took a few hours to get done, but it looked okay in the end.
Got an email from Jenny, asking if would like her to order some lemon mousse and lemon yoghourt on her Asda order for me. She’s so kind to me, and others for that matter. I asked for some lemon bleach, mousse and yoghourts! Bless her. ♥
I sent the blog off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Then went onto the WordPress Reader section. Some phenomenal photographs had been posted. Makes sad, as to how my skills are being drained. By Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter nerves dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. But I’m still doing them, it’s just harder and takes much longer. With many shots having to be taken to get a decent one work. Then, of course, time spent deleting the crap efforts to save memory. Not complaining, just explaining. Well, not a lot anyway. Haha!
Send some pics to Pinterest, then spent a happy time on Facebooking. A lot of time!
Put Computer Cameron in sleep mode, and got the ablutions tackled. And things went wellish again. Well, not the dropsies, they were regular, repetitive, and annoying. But, no toe-stubbing, no clearing the top of the floor cabinet, no dropping the showerhead, and no tooth-cleaning bleeding.
There were a couple of shaving nicks. And one of the dropsies (the after-shave bottle) I banged the back of my hand as I made a grab to stop the bottle going down and hitting myself on the foot or toes! But it was worth it to avoid that.
A little price to pay.
Now, I was feeling a little upbeat. But with my record, I resisted adopting a smug-mode. I went to make a brew, and took a photo of the glorious view from the new kitchen window, the thick-framed, light & view-blocking, designed my photographer-hating architects, window!
Then I had an idea (It has been known before, although rare), for a funny ode about life and how I felt at the moment. So, I started creating it in CorelDraw with graphics. Four hours later, I got it finished and posted off. Here’s the link if you haven’t seen it yet folks:
I made another brew of Glengettie and thought to myself, I’ll nip down to the mobile shop, and get some fresh tomatoes, disinfectant and bread when it comes at twelve… Noticed the clock. And it was 17:00hrs! Granglesknackersbuggerit! I got carried away with the funny ode, didn’t I? I hope it goes down well!
Had a funny thought when I was taking these bench shots, with all the bird poo, will we now get bird flu?
So, I got the sarnies made up, added some onions, gherkins, too many tomatoes (getting short on em now, I’ll ration them, Haha!) bread-thins sarnies with Sopocka, Marmite cheese and rice cakes. Taste: 7.2/10
Soon gobbled it all up.
My last photo was taken, as I did the washing up, and then settled in search of some sleep.
I watched a replay of the Euro Cup Final twixt Germany and the Czech Republic. With so many nod-offs. I woke, and the adverts were on, took a shot of the high sun, and back down in the recliner.
02:15hrs: Having had a wee-wee-less sleep, I returned to the land of the imitational-living, in need of one. The toes, ankles and feet were not enamoured with my getting my overly stomach-burdened body almost perpendicular. Despite the urgent need to get to the wet room, I was very cautious and careful in getting the walking stick, and my route to the throne room. For fear of the ankle going over again.
Which resulted in an embarrassing leakage en route. Saved by having the PPs on, from a severe ‘wetting of the wet room’, the wee-wee, was of a cloudy and pale SS (Short-Sharp) variety. Proper washing of specific areas, change of PPs, and off to the kitchen. (No indications of the heavy-duty Porcelain Throne being needed)
I got the tablets out, made a mug of Thomsons Punjana tea, then the carefully done job of sphygmomanometerisationing. The dang sys was a tad high again, but it’s been worse. The pulse was higher, but I think within range. The thermometer showed ‘Low’. Took the medications, leaving the other not eatable medical tasks until I did the ablutions, later on. Then back for another wee-wee, the same type, but a little longer lasting.
Back to the kitchen, gathered and sorted the black bin bags, and tied them up ready to go to the chute. Then, back for another wee-wee. Oh, dearie me!
I got the computer on, and the moment I started on CorelDrawing to do the thought graphic, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off, soon to be joined in the ‘Let’s Annoy Inchie’ mission, by Saccades Sandra. This made progress very slow. However, I seemed to be in a rare mood of resolution not to get myself all bothered and flustered. And this was with several more wee-wee visits as well! (Yes!) I pressed on until the updating was all done for the Wednesday post. Temporary Smug Mode, with an iota of self-satisfaction, adopted!
I went on Pinterest for a while. Then the Word-Press reader, finally getting on to Facebooking. This consumed an hour and a half of my precious time. Shuddering Shirley kept having a bash at me, but it seemed for shorter sessions?
I remembered to do the priority Iceland order. It should be due
Off for another wee-wee. This one was of a different style altogether. An RPD (Reluctant-Painful-Dribbling) variety, still the pale grey colouring.
The plates of meat and ankle ulcers were less inflamed. But still, painful when hobbling.
Put Computer Connie in sleep mode, and got the ablutions started.
By gum, it went well! Unbelievably so! No gum bleeding! Only two dropsies of the soap! No toothpaste or brush dropping! No, I say, No, Shaving cuts! Amazing! Shirley and Nicodemus both in an excellent calmed down mood.
Mind you, I can’t say the same about my attempt afterwards, to try and get the ankle support strap on! That was a failed, painful attempt. A short but discountenancing involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance had me over on the floor! Bungle-Grumplewuncks. Banged my back against the floor cabinet, and ever since, I’ve had back Back-Pain-Brenda giving me gip! On the plus side, I got back up from frequently-frequented by Inchcocks torso, wet room floor with relative ease for me.
That was because I needed yet another wee-wee! Hahaha!.
Ah, well! Silver Lining Search – Result: If Dizzy Dennis, Shirley, and Nicodemus stay the way they now, that’ll be great. I can cope with Brenda as she is. I might even regain faith!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and started to do some graphics for later use. It was slow going, but yet again, I found myself in a remarkably accepting, and submissive frame of mind? An hour and three wee-wees later (All the same style, but the colour had gone from pale grey, back to the orange of ereyesterday).
I hobbled off to make another brew, this time of Thompsons Punjana. I noticed a letter had been pushed through the door and went to nosey. I’ve mentioned the odd noises lately, drilling and knocking. Then espied that the letter referred to Winchester Court?
Back to the CorelDraw grindstone. Unfortunately, I’d not got many done and needed more of them. Grufflemoanski!
Ah, the Porcelain Throne is needed! The legs seem to be getting even more clear of the Clopidogrel inspired blobs and blotches. Not complaining, mind, just mentioning it.
There I was, one minute in my newly acquired state of grace, and unflappability, then the weariness came over me, almost in an instant! And no blood test to check the Warfarin level for three weeks, and the next one isn’t due until the 9th of June. I just can’t understand why the sudden change?
What a shame, I was just beginning to get caught up as well. Granglesknackersbuggerit!
I decided to get the skinless Robirch sausages in the oven and make some bread thins sarnies with them, and some cheese, tomatoes, whatever is in the fridge.
My innards, and, or the EQ, were telling me not to have any mash or chips, so I listened and obeyed.
The Dusty Springfield tune, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed from the doorbell. T’was the appealing ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Desk Top Dancer, and Warden, Deana. Delivering Pressies, from if I heard correctly, the Nottingham City Homes. Four tea bags, a card (below), and a naughty jam doughnut. (Which I demolished later with my meal, Hehehe!) Along with a postcard notice.
Advice on getting through the lockdown.
On the phone?: My deafness makes this awkward.
On the screen: My camera on the computer has broken.
Someone you live with?: Well, there is Marie’s gifted Koala Katie, and Patties, Scruffy. Who I do talk to every morning!
I’m a little concerned about scruffy, he keeps falling off of the bookshelves where he lives in peace with Koala Katie. Perfect imitator of me! Hahaha! Koala keeps the spare toilet roll hidden for me as well! ♥
I love them and TFZer folks who sent them for me! And from Australia and Canada, too! I really am lucky, after all! ♥
Got the nosh made up, and on the tray. I wish I’d known how nice the skinless sausages were going to be, too late to add any to the Iceland order any now. Maybe not a bad thing, I’ve plenty of other sausage-based food in the fridge.
Those Indian grown seedless grapes are so lovely too. The last of the lemon mousses, fresh orange drink, the so kindly donated naughty, I shouldn’t be eating jam doughnut, all went down well! Flavour rating: 8.9/10! Yummy!
I was still in a weary-state, so drained. But not ill or anything? Cleaned the pots, checked and double-checked the taps, lights, stove etc. and got my head down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, none-working, rickety recliner.
When I got settled and the TV on, the vagueness arrived. To be followed, regretfully, by the thought-storms. I’d been free of these for a day or two, but they still gave and left me with fears, guilt, self-worthlessness and depression.
They also lasted far too long, and sleep didn’t come for hours. Grombognangles!