Inchcock's Day - Thursday 6th May 2021: Another Hectic Day - I have to say!

TFZer Thomas, he's just finished upgrading his front room! Hehe!

Thursday 6th May 2021

Irish: Déardaoin 6ú Bealtaine 2021

03:30hrs: I recovered conscience very late for me this morning. That was due to the terrible Thought-Storms I had to endure last night, preventing me from getting to sleep. But I still managed about five hours of slumber, dream-filled, but not a trace of any memories of them left now. Does that annoy you, too?

Whoopsidangleplop: Not feeling too bad as I rose with relative ease to get to the wee-wee bucket. But as soon as I started the leak, the Peripheral Neuropathy shakes started on the right side, arms, legs and hands... You can guess what's coming up; next, I bet...

Accifauxpas: My grip on the plastic was lost. The room was sprinkled weakly with urine... the bucket was then dropped, and the carpet will need a good clean up later, as will I and my jammie bottoms were removed for washing. 

Whoopsidangleplop: I swore a bit, cursed my rotten luck, swore a bit more, and set off to fetch the carpet cleaner fresher from the kitchen. Took the bucket with me to the toilet and got it cleaned and disinfected, washed my body at the same time, off to the kitchen and returned to the main room to clean the carpet and wooden area that I'd involuntarily sprayed.

Whoopsidangleplop: I was feeling tired out already! Hehe! I sensed that yet another busy day was coming up. Thanks to the wickedly unlucky start to the day, I was developing a mordacious mood. Made worse by my EQ telling me that mental turmoil was on its way! I prayed he would be wrong for once!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, and saw the DVT Warfarin notes, and wrote them in my patient record log.

Next, I set about getting the Health Checks done. The Boots made in China Sphygmomanometer wasn't too keen on working for me, but it did on the fourth attempt.

Whoopsidangleplop: Then, when I opened up the internet, Liberty-Global's Virgin Media Internet was offline!

I was so annoyed at this, I went on CorelDraw and made this graphic of the boss of Liberty-Global. Steven Fries, who is behind the broadband provider Virgin Media, has awarded a pay package worth more than $123m (£101m) annually, plus expenses, deserved a bit of sarcasm thrown back in his direction! Most stomach ulcer testing!

I took my morning medications. Put the SD card in the computer, and put the Canon camera battery on charge.

Whoopsidangleplop:  As I was uploading the pictures, I got a tingling sensation from the shaking right leg and investigated it. It looked like I might have been scratching at it, but I can't remember doing so, and it was too fresh a would to have been done nocturnally... at least I thought so. I dabbed it with a kitchen towel, and it was still sticky?

Another mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghost, ghouls, fears, and the grotesque succubae. Possible extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, or maybe the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?

There was still no internet to use. So, I made up another graphic to use later, on CorelDraw.

There was still no internet to use. I tried taking everything off, the computer, the Virgin box, plugs out and restarted things again.

There was still no internet to use.

So I took a picture of the morning from the kitchenette window. And pretty it was, too!

I put the kettle on to make a brew, but I changed my mind (as I often do) and decided to get some handwashing done in the
kitchen sink.

I got caught up with the laundry for once. The thin green overcharged for flimsy Amazon supplied long sleeve t-shirt and some socks. The messed up in the wee-weeing Accifauxpa I did separately. They needed extra attention from the disinfectant, Dettol, and a good dollop of fabric freshener to be applied... twice!

Then, I got the ablutions seen too early. It's flipping hard work this morning! EQ was right, I'm afraid, and it was to get busier!

The teeth cleaning went okay. Shaving left me with a colourful face, all tiny nicks, though. Drying off was good, Accifauxpaless, and painless. Getting dressed was a hassle, but no falls or bangs. Even the dropsies were less than usual!

I got some black bags made up and into the box, to take to the chute later. 

That is, of course only if I ever get the time to do so!

Then, I tried the computer again and got the internet back. The Virgin Media internet was working again. I bet if Steve Fries reads with, he'll be as amazed as I was to hear it! Hehehe!

Whoopsidangleplop:  I set to work updating the blog for yesterday. During which I received a landline call. Unfortunately, it was another of the recorded con-messages, with the taped music in the background of office noises. As soon as I recognised this I rang off! Most annoyed, and wishing that something could be done about these horrible con-artists! Bringing back hanging or the guillotine came to mind as a part-solution? But, of course, one has to find the perpetrator first, and that seems beyond our enforcement team.

I phone my iatrophobia, gerascophobia, and xyrophobia suffering Brother-in-law Pete, to tell him the blog would be a long time coming, but the line on his £599 Samsung Galaxy S20 FE WWX1, mobile was breaking up what he was saying again. I then lost the connection altogether. I think I'd got the message through, first.

The intercom sounded and warbled its weak, not loud enough jingle. To my pleasant surprise, nae, joy! It was Matron Julie calling to see how things were going. We spoke about my struggling, and discussed options - moving to an extra care establishment, getting some help... but nothing was decided or offered. But I felt so much better after we spoke. Julie took the Blood pressure readings and my pulse. Off she trotted, with my thanks, and appreciation for calling. ♥

I finally got the Wednesday blog completed, sent off and sent the email links out. Went on Facebooking. Then answered two comments on Blogger, from Tuesday's blog.

Then the intercom rang out once more. It was DHL delivering the Microwave from Amazon, it stand now on its end, where the driver kindly left it for me, inside the front door - Well, it had to be that, there are no other external doors in the flat - Hehe!

So, at long last, over half the day done, me feeling shattered mentally that is, I got on with making this post.

14:00hrs, I got the waste bags gathered, and into the box on the trolley.

A Touch of hyperbolising? Being the keen, alert, observant, on the qui vive, sharp-witted, vigilant, fit healthy young man that I am, I spotted the Deep Vein Thrombosis clinics blood report had been delivered. So, I got it picked up (much to the annoyance of Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy), and placed it in a safe place. 

Naturally, I will now know exactly where to find it when I need it on Monday. I know I'll need it then because the blood vampire nurse phoned to let me know she will be calling twixt 8 and 10a.m. that day, as I was reading it.

I then tackled moving the mini microwave from the doorway and putting it in a flat proper-way-up in the hall.

I didn't realise that it would be so heavy, I hope they have sent the right sized one? Not much room to fit it in my mini-kitchenette - but fear not will I, fir Warden Deana said she would assist me. Phew! 

A grand lass that gal!

I smelt the wonderful aroma of the vegetable stew I was cooking, wafting through the hallway.  and I went to the stove to check on its progress, nowhere ready yet.

Ah, thought I, I've put the potatoes in the saucepan, there should be enough for two meals, although this wasn't the plan.

Accifauxpa: Shame about that, I got the sudden Neuropathic Pete shakes as I was moving the spuds into the saucepan, and, as you can see, some hot bits ended up on the floor, via my left foot! 

Accifauxpa: Still, I cleaned it up, added the rest of the spuds to the stew, washed the crockpot, dropped the lid, which cunningly dropped as it bounced off of the waste bin, right on my left foot!.

By now, I was so tired that I just couldn't muster up any bad language to use! Haha!

Off I trudged, at last, with the walker guide and waste bags to the chute room. 

No bother was the encounter with the door or cast iron chute-lid, even though it did try a couple of time to catch me out by springing shut rather swiftly. But despite my fatigued status, I managed to avoid any injuries, and I can't stay that very often. Hehe!

I backed out of the tiny room with the trolley and made my way back to the apartment along the lift lobby.

Whoopsiedangleplop: I had an involuntary Neuropathic Pete’s adventitious right leg Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance, which this time did have me over on the floor.

It was a few second long, but the timing caught me out, and I ended up on my bum! I'm only glad no one was about at the time.

I fear that there may now some bleeding from the Harold Haemorrhoids area. I'll check later. Tsk! 

I got back indoors, got the trolley parked up, and off to the wet room for an investigation. To my surprise, there was no bleeding at all. Although a certain area may be bruised. Haha! Bit of luck there!

Worked away of this blog for a couple of hours or so, then I realised how late it was. Head-down time had passed me by. Humph! 

So, I got the meal finished and served.

It turned out an over-flavoured, too thick stew, with far too many leeks... and I loved it! Even feeling so tired, I loved it. Hehe!

The soft pitta bread, I put in some mini sausages, folded it and dunked away at the gravy, not leaving a drop in the dish!

Then the comfort food; an ice cream noughat flavoured lolly, was unceremonially demolished. Well...

Put the basin in soak, and had a wee-wee, another reluctant one. 

Whoopsiedangleplop: I got down in the c1968 recliner, and the adiaphorous darned Thought-Storms began the moment I settled. They came thick and fast, and persisted, lyssophobia, disgust, self-loathing, failures, mistakes, etc. flowed. Blocking my getting off to sleep for hours.

Whoopsiedangleplop: When I eventually did drop off, I was wide awake again in minutes, bumbling and fumbling my was y out of the chair, and to the wee-wee bucket. Another weak, trickling 'Should-I-Have-Bothered' leak!

Accifauxpas: When I stubbed my toe getting back to the recliner, I cursed silently, and decided to stay up, and get on with updating this blog. 

Anyone needing advice on ageing without dignity can email me with their questions. Hehehe!