I’m Determined to destroy Depression!
I decided, in a dream, I had yesternight,
Depression, I’ll resist, beat and outfight,
I must be strong, determined, not contrite,
I’ll be honest with myself, not like a Blairite,
My approach, will-power, must be definite!
I’ll have courage, like a brave medieval Knight,
And continue to show my vigour and fight,
Although my confidence may be finite,
This misery, I will surely try to expedite,
I must give this depression, no respite,
Ridding myself of this soul-destroying plight,
Who knows if I can, I just possibly might?
Then hopefully, I’ll get some sleep tonight,
And for supper, I can have some toasted Marmite!
Created during an aberrant spell of semi-confidence.
00:10hrs: Woke, throne needed, struggled out of the recliner to the wet room. Things went a little easier today, but still messy. Little bleeding. No toe stubbing. But I managed to give the humerus and ulnar nerves a clouting on the corner of the door frame, as I came out of the door. When I temporarily lost control of the walking stick. It was the least I could do. After all, the ailments were being so kind to me this morning! Hehehe!
I got the kettle on, then decided to get the vegetables prepared, to marinate in the seasoning in the crockpot. I tried to recall the seasoning I used last week. Beef stock, hickory, and Sharwoods black bean sauce. I’ve not many tins of garden peas left now, so I’ll miss them off this time. No mushrooms to use either. Dangwangles!
I caught mt thumb on the bottom of the hot saucepan. Hard to believe that I could do something like that, I know. Hehehe! I put some vaseline on it, and it bubbled! 
By which time the appetite had returned, at the smell and sight of the bowlful of stew I’d cooked! The so-called braised beef in onion gravy just may have weighed 3-4 ounces at most! But, this did not fuss me too much, all the more onion gravy in the bag! Along with my (for once) successfully seasoned and cooked vegetables, they created a meal I gave an overall flavour rating of 9/10, too! 
When I did finally get settled to watch some TV, Law & Order episodes, (they usually send me to sleep at the first set of commercials), I got the feeling that the phone or mobile would go off and wake me. 
As I stirred into consciousness, the clock and wristwatch told me it was 01:40hrs (Of course, it was actually 02:40hrs, not that I was aware of this at the time). I lay a few minutes gathering my mental thoughts into a mock semblance of understandability and some form of pretend-logicality. 
To the kitchen, where I got the kettle on and used the Canon camera to take some shots of the same view in different shooting modes. (I can’t get my head around this machine or even manipulate the settings options on it. So thought I’d give it a go, as the thing hasn’t been used much lately [It’s the one I use for outside shots]) I can’t see many differences in the pictures, apart from the first one, which is a different shape and size. 
Made the brew, and got the medicationing sorted out. Olive oiled the ear holes, Saccades Sandra sprayed the eyes, Enoxaparined the stomach, took a few guzzles of the pathetically weak and pointless antacid medicine. Then a swift swig of the dry cough medicine, and took the tablets. I’ll get the pain gels and antiseptic creams on later. Arthur Itis’s knees were treating me very-kindly this morning!
I’m back! And a jolly good session just had in the scrubbing-up stakes. The legs changed shade again. No shaving cuts. Just a few dropsies. At long last, Little Inchies fungal lesion had stopped bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were painful. And most importantly, there were no toe-stubbings!
While I got Josie’s nosh ready, I did the handwashing. 
I got my vegetarian meal done up and served on the tray. 
02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, and realised that just about everything attached to my wobbly-overweight stomach, was shaking to varying degrees. Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley was so bad, she was hitting my elbow on the recliner arm! Shaking Shaun had taken a fancy to the head and neck this morning. Worst perhaps, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failures were making it so difficult to sense anything hard, and getting up to respond to the urgent call to the Porcelain Throne was not easy! (The bonus, was, that there was no Neuropathic Schuhplattler dancing from the right leg) 
After much faffling-about, I got on my feet, caught my balance, grabbed at the four-pronged walking stick, dropped it, bent down to pick it up and ‘Klunk’ down on my knees I went! Bearing in mind, the imperativeness of my getting to the Throne in time was increasing! Humph! I actually appreciated having the shakes from Nicodemus at the time, because there was hardly any pain at all when Arthur Itis’s patelas hit the floor! That usually come later, when the transmitter nerves start working again. Unnerving getting pains and you can’t see or remember why! 
The veins in the pins had started to protrude again. The varicose were not too bad, mind. The spider and 
While in there, I did the teggies and had a shave. And very pleased with how it went, considering that Shirley didn’t ever stop shaking, although she kept altering the rate of power. And I only had two tiny cuts after the session! Smug Mode Adopted! 
To the kitchen, and put some bits in a carrier, to give to Jenny when she comes. As a thank you for helping me out again. 
I dug out some chips from the bottom of the freezer. Got a pate and a few tomatoes left to have with them. 
The landline flashed, it was the Chemist, telling me the prescriptions would be at the door in a few minutes. I waited five or six minutes, not wanting to make social-contact with the lady, and carefully opened the door, making sure she had gone first and collected the pack from where she had left it for me. 
01:35hrs: By, Jiminee, was I shaking when I woke up? Yes, I was! Not shivering. Just like like Johnny Kidd & the Pirates in 1960, I was certainly, ♫ Shaking all over ♫. Not half! Only this was a version played by “Inchcock & the Ailments!” Hahaha! The only thing not shaking was the right leg. The knee yes, but that is part of the Peripheral Neuropathy and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying. And I dropped the walking stick when I picked it up, Nicodemus’s work again! Nowt to be done about that. Shaking Shoulder-Shirley was busily bashing away at the right scapula and joint. Shaker-Shaun was encouraging the head and neck to jolt about occasionally, too. 
Considering how I was rushing so as not to get caught out again at the Throne when I spotted the missing box of the Korean seaweed crispies, delivered last night. (They are still there now, I forgot all about them, being hidden behind the chairs, Tsk!) 
Getting the new PPs from the bag, a surge from Dizzy Dennis had me fall towards the wall, I ended up knocking some things off of the floor cabinets. Unfortunately, a glass bottle of the antacid medicine was one of the things that went over…and landed on the foot and toe that I stubbed yesterday! 
Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest! 
I got the vegetables in the crockpot, seasoned, gravied (put some hickory in it), and cooking on a low setting.
I tried to get an order on Morrison.s and Iceland again, but no luck.
I got the vegetable stew sorted out, and despite my ailments, I enjoyed it a lot. Talking of lot, there was a lot of it as well, but I ate it all!
Getting the washing up done afterwards was so frustrating! I reckon I dropped or spilt more things than I didn’t!
01:45hrs: I stirred into an ersatz version of life; feeling otiose, vague, and in need of a non-alcoholic potation. As I removed my horrendously ever-growing stomach with thin arms and legs attached to it, from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, the innards gurgled, I started coughing, and wind passed involuntarily from the rear end! 
I got the kettle on, took the medications, again dropping the Omeprazole capsule, and made a brew of Glengettie. Into the computer desk, and had a look at the two-page, side-effects of the Omeprazole’s leaflet. But there was so much of it, I gave up. 
I tried for the ninth time in 24hrs, to get a Morrison Grocery order done. Hehehe! What a hopeful, old, gullible, senile idiot, I am! 
I did a try at getting some food from Ocado. Another negative, no slots available!
The cobs will be perfect with my beans later! Onions and carrots, I’ve got some parsnips in reasonable nick, in the fridge. Tomorrow’s meal sorted thanks to the donator. That frees me from the worry of having to go out today! Bless whoever it was! Canned mushy peas, baked beans, sardines. A yoghourt that unfortunately has the lethal to me cranberries in it. Milk, lemonade, tomato puree, and some white bread. So kind of them! Oh, and a can of orange pieces, a perfect after for me! 
The landline flashed and sounded, I woke and fumbled my way to the phone. It was Jenny, helping me out again! She had miraculously got through to Iceland to give an order. And, as is her natural, considerate, obliging characteristics, she asked if I would like anything adding to the order for Saturday. If I email her back with anything, she will add it to her order. Not many folks would think of that, but Jenny is special. 
My body just wanted to sleep, but I wanted to get back to Jenny and thank her and give a little list of items she had kindly asked for me to add to her Iceland delivery. Her delivery is for late on Friday, and Jen’ politely said she would not wake-me then, and bring it to me until Saturday morning. The lady is so thoughtful! So, a treat of braised beef in onion gravy cook-in-the-bag again for me this weekend after all! Bless yers, Jenny! 
The hickory seasoned beans with the last of the tomatoes, and triple-fried chips, and the Jenny-supplied bread, were smashing! 
As slowly as I was hobbling, and as carefully as I could, I still managed to give myself a toe-stubbing on the corner of the kitchen door! I held onto the door frame for extra support, closed my eye, and withheld the urge to cry out loud and swear! A few moments later, after a Thought Storm that was partly incomprehensible, but included niggling, depressive thoughts about my bad luck and stupidity, I got the medications from the drawer and imbibed them with a drink of spring water.
02:35hrs: I awoke, still feeling a tad groggy and tired. I waited for the brain to engage gear and the fog to lift from the grey cells, and things became mentally at least, active! By the time I’d had an enthusiastic and satisfying itch around my massive, wobbly, overweight midriff, I recognised the urgent need to get myself to the wet room! So I did! 
I few moments of Mind-Thoughts blasting: 
Spirits dipped a tad when I went to get the medications out of the draw. I am now taking the Warfarin doses blind. No blood test for weeks now, so obviously, I have no idea what amount I should be taking! At least if I am imbibing too much, it might just be cutting myself and bleeding to death, might happen if Little Inchies fungal lesion flows. Too little Warfarin, and a stroke, seizure or heart attack. But, of course, that’s providing that the Coronavirus doesn’t get me first! Or Duodenal Donald doesn’t burst open. Maybe Anne Gyna’ll get me? Or the mechanical ticker battery will run out? Or the blood cancer starts again? Perhaps, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters will go into complete failure? Or, the Peripheral Neuropathy may start an involuntary right leg Schuhplattler dance, when I’m crossing the road, and I’ll get squashed by a lorry? No, no, no! With the lock-down I’ll not be outside will I, and will there be any lorries on the road by then anyway? Ah, the part bullet still inside me might suddenly rust? Nae, its been no bother for donkey’s years. It’s a game innit? Hahaha! You’ve got to laugh!
By the time I’d stopped the Mind-Blast, the tea had gone cold. So I took the medications to the computer desk, oiled the ear-holes, creamed certain areas in need of the same, and made another brew. I noticed that I had acquired what looked like a scorch mark on my right hand? No doubt during a period of a Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure and the nerves did not inform the brain.
I tried again to read my notes to use on the phone call with the help, from Angela. 
Embarrassing 
Odd that I should use the term I did there. Because that is the very thing that emitted from my innards moments later, a little sort of silent involuntary Plump, felt more than heard! I hastened to the Porcelain Throne, but didn’t make it in time! The evacuation again was under the control of my innards. Runny, messy, and smelly. Yet, still, the movement was painful? Had a shower and cleaned up, new PP’s on, and the trousers were thrown away, disinfected thoroughly, in a black bag on there own! Now my spirits sank, shame grew, and a despondency developed!
I then read about Morrisons supplying £35 food boxes, £10 delivery. But could not get to find them on the site, of course. 
I gave up computing and any thoughts of mind control as the head spun. 
00:00hrs: I reckon it must have been around midnight when I woke up. And I lay in uhtcearing mode, the mind stewing, pondering over this and that; Will I get the milk and bread on Morrison’s order? Why am I not shaking, Arthur Itis’s pains are none existent, the horrible ‘Hum’ is so loud, why? Can I keep it together today? How many new cases and deaths with Coronavirus will there be today? On, and on the Thought Storm blasted! 
As the song, composed by Lionel Bart, 
considering the text message that I got this morning, from Gov.UK. telling me I have to stay at home. 
An email came in from Morrisons re today’s delivery. No bread today, and they couldn’t deliver an alternative? On the plus side, they are letting me have a 9-pack of toilet rolls. They do help though, and with sending little food, it should help my dieting, and I should not need so many toilet rolls. Good, innit! 
I wonder if I might try grilling some bits of the carpet? I’ve got some sauces I have with it, out of date, fair enough, but still. Hehe! The British sense of humour saves the day again! 
Todays ordered three weeks ago, Morrison delivery arrived. I got it put away, clandestinely, not showing the rolls through the window. I wish I’d got a safe now!
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
Come back the next day for a refund? Mmm? I’m confused and befuddled!
I took a photo from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, new anti-photographer designed kitchen window. I would have taken a shot of Chestnut Walk below as well, but the giant window ledge makes me have to use the step-ladder to reach out for the picture taking. Humph! 
As the meal was being served up, the intercom light flashed. I’m really glad I was in the kitchen at the time, cause the tune from the intercom wouldn’t have been heard with the fire door shut! It’s on its loudest setting too! It was an Amazon delivery chap, with the giant pack of instant potato-flakes that I’d ordered, at last! The man left them outside the door and had retreated to the lobby door, he shouted something I could not decipher, and I shouted a ‘Thank You’, as he ran off. And, I don’t blame him!
I opened the package, to reveal a ginormous bag of Maggi Potato Flakes. 4kg! Haha! 
I got the meal served up. I have to say, that I am amazed at how well the Piccolo tomatoes have lasted, over a week now and they have no signs of shrivelling up yet? I wonder if they have been irradiated? The Flavour rating for this slowly eaten and enjoyed feast was 8.8/10! Baked beans with Hickory, smoked ready-cooked bacon (Sadly all gone now!), tomatoes and the really different and gorgeous Truffle Fries! Which I have acquired a strong proclivity for. 
I fumble my body mass out of the recliner and fell on my knees. (Klunk, double-thud, Argh!) Luckily the phone is only two normal paces from where I fell, I used the swivel chair (but got away with it, Phew!) to get back up, and was sure the phone would stop ringing before I got to it. But no! I got there in time, pain as well, but pleased with myself for getting there on time at all! 
I took a photo of the pins (legs) as I took off the socks and trousers to get back in the recliner, I noticed how pale they looked compared to earlier? No way of guessing at why, with no Warfarin blood test results to assess with.
03:10hrs: Woke late, but that’s because I had another six-hours worth of blissful, glorious sleep. Great! Laying there a moment, I wriggled and appreciated that Arthur Itis, Back-Pain-Brenda and Shaking Shoulder Shirley, were all giving me a welcome break from hassle! Even Greaterer! My only ailments in a bad mood, were Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna and Shaking Shaun. Well copeable with, I think. Hope it stays this way.
This session was much improved on earlier ones, less painful, more comfortable to exert and far less painful! The only thing that spoilt my elation was the amount of bleeding from the rear. There were a few spots of haemoglobin from Little Inchies fungal lesion, but nowt to fret about. And the pins looked a little odd to me, but blown if I know why or what made me think this? The Clopidogrel lumps and papules, as well as the veins, looked calm enough. The knees in good form. I’m a little annoyed at myself for not knowing what it is that seems so different to me. (Possibly Saccades-Sandra playing up, I’ll find out when I get on the computer later). I washed and did a bit of medicating and went to the kitchen.
The morning sun was casting shadows from behind the flats, and I took this shot, but it took three tries, as the harrowing Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters started failing, to get an unsmudged picture. I can’t find any pattern in these nerve-end dyings; sometimes it is persistent, others for a few moments. There are no warning signs; it has caused me many an Accifauxpa and Whoopsiedangleplop, but not this time. Hehehe! 
I got the yellow Clinical Sharps Waste box and Enoxaparin pre-filled syringe needle and grabbed a lump of fleshy-stomach, (no problems, I have masses of flubber hanging off around my wobbly midriff!). I injected the anticoagulant. I must remember to give the box to the nurse in the morning! I started and continued to cough a bit persistently afterwards, but this is a regular occurrence, Dr Vindla says not to worry about, so I don’t. I took a swig of the ‘Tickly Cough’ medicine. 
I got the computer going and checked the emails first. The daily Coronvirus (Covid-19) update page gave this graph: Dr Keith Girling, Medical Director for Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust, said: “Sadly, we can confirm that a further two patients who were being cared for at our hospitals have died. Both patients had tested positive for Covid-19. There are now 34 patients diagnosed with the virus in the city, up from 22, while figures for the county have increased to 60, a jump from 45 on Saturday, March 21.
I’ve not mentioned them yet, but the wee-wees were frequent and all of the VSHLP (Very Short-Hosepipe-Like-Painful) variety. 
The computer was closed down, and off I went to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Two visits today? This one was a nasty affair. Very painful, messy, and I clouted my knee on the floor cabinet corner. My language is getting worse this week! Got a clean-up and creamed certain areas in need of the same.
I got the nosh carefully prepared. Tons of washing up to do afterwards, with for some reason seemed a right bind to me? Anyroad, the out-of-sell-by-date potato curl things, despite being stuck together like glue, came out tasty. I think the packet had been thawed and refrozen. The well-overcooked mushrooms, peas and leeks, were gorgeous! Mini tomatoes, they were keeping well, considering I bought them over a week ago! The pate and last of the sausages, wonderfully flavourful. A taste-rating of 8/10! 
02:30hrs: Well, well, well, sleep at last! Six hours no less! Within minutes of waking up, I’d decided there was an ode about the Coronavirus that had been floating about in my head, and it needed tending to, while it was fresh in my 
I arrived in the nick of time on the Throne, and the evacuation started without any input from me. But only so far, then it was reluctant-cement time! The pain I went through to get things moving again, was unpleasant, to say the least. But, I freed things, and unfortunately, this caused quite a bit of bleeding, that took far longer to stop than usual. And of course, wasted a few precious sheets of toilet paper. I should have used the kitchen towel roll, I will next time! And really must call for a prescription for some more Corticosteroid cream. 
I checked the emails. One from Amazon is asking for a review of the Tork toilet rolls, that had been cancelled! I filled it in, mentioning the reason being that as they had not been delivered, I couldn’t respond in the accepted style. 
I’m back! Apart from just a couple or so (5) dropsies, the five cuts shaving, wee’d me off. Hah! 
Back to the kitchen and got the and washing done, rung and hung! Then, I tackled the laundry. But I felt okay, as Dizzy Dennis and even Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley were being kind to me!
I made a mug of tea, taking this picture of the new kettle making the place seem all clean and polished. (Obviously, it wasn’t, though, Hahaha!) 
I’ll get the nosh done now. I was so glad I bought all those tomatoes when I went to Arnold now, they are keeping pretty well too. I hope they don’t suddenly shrivel. This was a meal worth a taste-rating of 8.5/10. I dined slowly and savoured every bit of the food without any abstemiousness. My coenaculous desires were well satiated! 
I got a wash and changed into the night attire. Then got uncomfortably settled on the second-hand, £300, recliner, that xyrophobia-suffering, Lottery winner, Pools winner and flat-robber, Brother-in-law Pete Archibald Bratton had knackered, while he was flat-sitting and stealing my valuables, while I was in the hospital after having the stroke.