Monday 10th August 2020
Italiano: Lunedì 10 Agosto 2020
03:50hrs: I stirred into semi-mock-life, with the brain reluctant to kick-start, and when it did, it was in a state of confusion, fear, and in a nervous condition. I pondered over why this should be. I soon found many things were to blame. The first one that came to mind, was my being let down yet again, by Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, had not delivered the prescriptions! Worrying!
I’m now out of medications. According to the paperwork on the last lot, (that were five days late as well), they were delivered on the 8th (12th) July. It is now 10th August; and no signs of any delivery! I’ve got a stock of Warfarin, a few Codeines, and some Enoxaparin needles. But no Beta Blockers, Lansoprosol, Bisoprolol, Atorvastatin, or Ramiprils! How long can this go on for? They have been late and left me without tablets to start of the period for three times in a row now. Failed to separate the Furesomide as they said they would, leaving me with three unfathomable which-are-which struggles! And they used to be so reliable, too!
The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, are beginning to get to me now! Especially as I said, they used to so trustworthy and caring.
The Doctor has been informed of my plights. The Flats Wardens are aware. The nurses who call have been told, but nothing improves. It makes me feel a little uncared for! Kluggledanks! I’ll have to beg the Vampire nurse when she calls today, to ring them for me. Depression dawns!
Despairingly, and on a downer, depressed and desperate for help, I searched through the medical drawers, finding odd loose tablets that I wasn’t sure of what they were, and took some of them, hoping one might be a beta-blocker, cause the metal-valved-ticker was fiving it some hammer suddenly.
Did the health checks, and felt reet-sorry for missen! The mind went all vague, or rather, over-centred on the lack of medications. I made a brew, didn’t bother with taking any view photos at first, so low was my interest in life! But an iota of resilience showed forth, and I did take a couple of pictures of the view from the loathed windows in the kitchen.
I got on the computer and updated the Sunday blog, sent the link. Pinterested some snaps. Facebook catch-up, but with little enthusiasm. Went on the WP reader.
The blood nurse is calling this morning, Hristina. So I’d better get the ablutions done early. Can’t use the shower before 08:00hrs, so a stand-up it will be. Back in a bit!
I’m back! Apart from a shaving session of much bleeding (tab-hole, chin, lip and nose, don’t laugh!) things went well. A few dropsies and a toe-stubbing are all that’s worth mentioning. A shame this bit of good luck came now, with all the aggro over the medications not being delivered, I couldn’t appreciate my good fortune properly. Oh, the knees looked better than for ages, as well!
I made up some waste bags, and got them on the trolley, and took them to the waste room. As I was putting in the last bag, I caught my right hand on the metal surround… this made me notice the time, and I was five-minutes too early to use the disposal chute, it was 07:55hrs. Tsk!
Back to the flat and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. Then updated this blog. Made a start of Coreldrawing, to do some graphics, but I am expecting Hristina in a few minutes.
The Vampire nurse Hristina arrived, she looked slightly harrassed and seemed in a rush. When I explained my problem with the prescriptions, she rang the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, for me, bless her cotton socks. It seems, they stopped making deliveries four weeks ago. It would have been nice if someone had told me!
She gave me a telephone number to ring for a volunteer helper. Which there was no reply to. She had to shoot off, after taking my blood. But said she would contact Deana on the way out. A true Angel! ♥
I just carried on doing the graphic creating. Occasionally trying the phone number, still no answer.
When it got into the afternoon, I tried ringing Dean. If I was not going to get any help, I needed to know; otherwise, it will be too late for me to go and fetch the prescription medications, and I really need to have some beta-blockers, BP capsules and Duodenal Donald medicine, I’m slowly feeling worserer as the day goes on, and Anne Gyna is kicking off. But Deana was not having any luck with contacting the helpline either! It’s not looking good! My spirits are sinking again, and now Arthur Itis is giving me some wallop, too! If only someone could tell me to get the med’s myself or not? This is not doing my health any good.
Deana rang back; the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, she’d phoned, told Deana that my prescriptions had been collected on 1st August!!! I told Deana no way had I received them! The last ones all had August 8th written on them! She will ring them back again.
Deana, said she’d ring them again for me. Which she did fifteen minutes later, now this is an example of a confused-chemist! This time, the chemist told her the prescriptions are actually there, waiting to be picked up, after all! What crap Chemists!
She tried another help number. And a volunteer lady told her she would try to get them today, but it was more likely to be tomorrow. I could well be dead by then, without the beta-blockers! Knackeswrangles! But kind of her to volunteer all the same. The lady may ring me later. What kasheh!
I decided; as any sane Englishman might, to make a brew of tea, and get the meal prepping started.
♥ I espied that outside down in the bottom field, there was a lady, who I took to straight away. For her determination and the cleverness of wearing camouflage clothing as she bored her two dogs to death, as she delved into peoples garden paths, dived fearlessly into the bushes, in her desire to get at the freebie blackberries! Hahaha!
Bless her perseveration and staying-power. ♥ Well done Madam! There were others out there blackberrying, but not with that ladies panache!
I got the nosh sorted. It looked, and smelt good to me. But my turmoil of mind, and uncertainty of the medical faux pas and situation, and bothering the volunteers to fetch my prescriptions, and having to stay awake late in case they phone me, took the edge off of the what I think was excellent flavour and taste of the fodder.
I got the pots washed, took the evening tablets available to me, and put the TV on, with subtitles, no headphones used. Thus, hoping this would stop me nodding off. It did the trick for a while. But as I was about to drop-off to slumber…
The landline light flashed, Aha! perhaps the volunteer calling? Nope! More bad news, though! It was Sarah (or Sandra, maybe Shirley) from the QMC Anti-Coagulation & Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic, with the sad news of my blood test results! INR down to 1.4! I had to concentrate to catch all the instructions and made notes of them on the phone pad.
She asked me if I’d taken any Warfarin yet. I told her yes, two. Stuttering Stephanie was making it hard work. As I spoke falteringly, the ears seem to turn off, while my entire efforts are concentrating on what I was trying to say! Humph! Warfarin instructions: Now 2, and an Exoxaparin injection 100ml – Tuesday: 2 Warfarin AM and PM, Exoxaparin injection 100ml – Wednesday: Enoxaparin injection 40ml – And a blood test arranged. I thanked the lady, then started to plan for taking the Enoxaparin.
There’s no rest for the wicked! Expulsivications!
I consulted the notes, in a vain hope of understanding them. And launched me into the hypodermicalisationing.
Target, stick in (to the overabundant-belly), and retrieve! All done.
Took the extra Warfarin, and settled down, in fear of falling asleep, in case the volunteer Helper, rang. In my tired weary state, this was not an easy task!
I did eventually let myself nod-off, around 19:00hrs. But woke ten-minutes later, in need of a wee-wee. I got to the wet room in time for the PACSL (Powerful-Apricot-Coloured-Short-Lived) wee-wee, just.
As I was coming back into the room, the landline flashed! It was a volunteer organiser. But she was hard to decipher. I think some kind-person is going to collect the prescriptions and deliver them to me, around 10:00hrs in the morning. Marvellous! I thanked her muchly, then settled into the second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, not-working, sickly-beige-coloured, rickety, rusty recliner.
Now, at last, I could let myself nod-off!
But, No! The Mind-Storms started. All the hassles of the day were relived, over and over… sleep took an aeon to arrive! Unglefrogwogglings!
10 thoughts on “Inchcockski – Mon 10 August 2020: Hassle, humiliation, hopelessness, and Enoxaparin injections start again! (Humph!)”
It’s all too confusing. You would think the chemists could at least email you updates and changes in delivery policies. At least you go to see your vampire. No fun with the injections.
Cheers, Tim, thanks.
The chemist confuses me, too!
A Vampire nurse coming today to take more blood, but I don’t think it will be Christina. Busty Belinda, is a good alternative; if I’m lucky. Hehe!
Your Hummingbird descriptions and photo’s were excellent, Sir!
Taketh care, Tim.
Nothing like a nice set of boobs to cheer a man up and add a few days, weeks, months, years to his life.
Haha! Yours so right, Sir!
I have fond memories of picking blackberries in the 1950s, encountering many thorns in the process. There was a mulberry tree frequented by at least one stinkbug: that single stinkbug was visiting a mulberry at the very moment that I popped said berry in my mouth. I am here to report that the bug had a distinct metallic taste, an unforgettable taste I may assure you. 🙂
Yet another connection, mate!
I was in town many years ago, at the trolley bus stop, awaiting the arrival of my heart’s desire, and as I sneezed, a moth flew into my mouth! Eurgh!
A privilege to share another connection, mon ami.
About 30 year ago, the kids and I visited a park some distance outside of town, I was sipping on a can of orange soda. One of those sips felt a little different to my tongue, ’twas a fuzzy vibrating thing that I spat out into the grass. A bee it was, guess I saved its life. I thanked the kind bee for not stinging me in the windpipe. 🙂
You’ve got friendly bees there, Sir! Well done!
A happy ending for both the bee and me, you see. 🙂