Inchies Day: Tuesday 11th May 2021 - My mind is becoming a reluctant wasm!

 Old Age is the Out-Patients' Department of Purgatory!

Tuesday 11th May 2021

Scots Gaelic: Dimàirt 11 Cèitean 2021

04:15hrs: I slowly stumbled back into life after the horriblest night's sleep for weeks. I'm not sure when I did eventually nod off, but I was feeling livelier now than I did Monday night; I can tell yer! I think I may have slept for seven hours, something of a record there... well, for this month anyway. 

I remember in February, after having the first AstraZeneca Covid jab, I slept straight through for 23 hours! Which bought to mind a possible problem that there might be this week. If there was nothing to worry about, I'd just die; I'm sure I would. Hehehe! 

Yesterday, the nurse rang me to tell me that I'm getting the 2nd Covid jab this Wednesday (tomorrow). From this clip above from my calendar, you can see the possible contretemps? 

If I should have the same or similar side-effects again, I've got the Dentist to visit the following morning. And it's an early appointment as well. What happens if I do nod-off for a day again? Oh, dearie me, fretting again! And I haven't even got out of bed yet... Tsk!

I fumbled my way free of the c1968 recliner, intent on utilising the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), and the sudden urge arrived for the Porcelain Throne. So, I diverted to the wet room...

Whoopsiedangleplop: En route, I gave myself a Class-1, Grade-A, walloping toe-stubbing under the swivel-chair wheel! Glumbleclops! That hurt!.

Whoopsiedangleplop: I limped into the room and got down in hopes of some movement this morning. And got it! A smooth-flowing three-foot torpedo flowed free, without any pain as well! (Well, it felt like three-foot!) I little bleeding, but not a lot. The pong was a smidge more lethal smelling, though. Washed, cleaned up and went to get the kettle on. Made up a couple of waste bags while waiting, then made the Thompsons Punjana brew.

I got the computer on, uploaded yesterdays photos, and got the Health Checks done.

As you can above, the results were a little disappointing overall. Two in the red today, and the NHS Blood Pressure measurer was even higher than yesterday's was! Ah, well!

I got the photo's done and started to update the Monday blog. Nicodemus's Neurotransmitters were mostly calm and operative, even Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley only bothered me a couple of times. But my concentration was shot to pieces, even my wandering off subjects were less than they were yesterday (although this wasn't to last too long), and I just couldn't understand why? 

I got it done and then emailed the links. I went on Facebooking, home, TFZers and Winwood Heights pages.

Then got the handwashing sorted out. Washed, wrung, rinsed and hung on hangers above the kitchen sink. Then had to clean up the spillage brought on by shaking Shaun and Peripheral Pete. Bothering Cathy Cartilage each time I had to bend down. Yet Arthur Itis was content for me to do this?

Whoopsiedangleplop-Accifauxpas: Off to the wetroom, and tended to the ablutionalisationing. Not one of my better sessions, yet I've had far worse. The dropsies must have been the fewest for the last month or two. great, only about five in total... Honestly!

Shaving; only two wee nicks, but I did try guilelessly to catch a dropped razor, well, I did catch it, but I also found out the effectiveness of the double-bladed Bics. Hahaha! Fool, me! Luckily, only a small finger-end cut.

Showering; just the one hit against the grab bar this morning, the right elbow.

Medicationalisationing: Ah, I made a right cock-up here, and not for the first time. Spit! I applied the Clotrimazole fungal lesion cream to Arthur Itis's knees, both of them. yes... But soon felt the mistake within a minute or so of applying it. I got it washed off sharpish - cause the last time I did this, I didn't realise, and ended up with the most amazing lumps that imitated a model of Mount Everest all over the patellae. Tsk! 

The feet were looking in fine form for once. Marvellous!

Accifauxpa: The last incident, was to give myself yet another toe-stubbing against the microwave oven box in the hallway as I left the room. An incident-packed little visit, that was, but nowt serious! 

No sooner had stopped cursing over stubbing my toe, I had to return to the wet room for a wee-wee. I just had o take this photograph, taken after I'd flushed the WC, but by the time I got the Canon camera, the amazing pattern made by the bog cleaner had dissipated. It looked like an aliens face... not now of course.

As I got back on the computer, it dawned on me, that I hadn't heard the regular knock-knocking and banging from whoever is in the flat above. I considered going up to check if they were alright. 

I spent a few hours updating this Inchie's Day diary of Woe and crap. Taking three more wee-wees doing it. 

Then the comforting sound of knocking and banging came from above. At least I know whoever it is are alive and kicking, so I don't have to worry about them.

I put the computer into sleep mode and got the waste bags taken to the chute. Giving myself a whirret on the right hand against the handlebar.

Did some more updating for another hour or so.

Then got some fodder-making started. Curried beans, crispy smoked streaky bacon and chicken sausages.

These sausages are worth the struggle down to Sherwood and the Ozan store. Great tasting! Mind you, everything was good about this dish. A well deserved 9/10 for Taste-Rating.

Washed and settled down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus...

And found him! I was off to sleep in what seemed minutes. Great!

I did wake up later, unfortunately in need of the fourth Porcelain Throne visit. Thankfully it was less messy this time and very little bleeding. I was soon making a glass of spring water and orange cordial, and got back down, certain that it would be a frustrating job getting back to sleep!

Whoopsiedangleplop: Sure enough the thought-Storms started off... but not the usual random ever-changing fears and concerns, these were solely over tomorrows upcoming second AstraZeneca Covid jab. I relived the February nightmare in my mind - the falling asleep for 23 hours, the disorientation, being unable to talk, shivering, and inability to get any help or report the issues... And for some reason, not even thinking of using my Alarm button? I was in the flat, for seven days, unable, and not interested in much at all. Proper poorly... the thought of having a second jab is scary for me. 

I had to get up for yet another wee-wee, and by the time I'd washed and got back down, the Thought Storms were history, and I drifted off for about four more hours of bliss.

Funny old life innit?