The First TFZer Astronautess! Marie! ♥
Friday 9th October 2020
German: Freitag, 9 Oktober 2020
02:15hrs: I reluctantly woke up, sniffling, and in need of a wee-wee. Bit of a struggle getting up, but I caught my balance easily, took the very full-looking EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) to the wet room, had a rather long, but trickling wee-wee, checked against the NHS colour code, I’m still at the number colour 6 on the card, ‘Very Dehydrated’. Washed and antisepticised my self and the bucket, and off to the kitchenette, to put the kettle on and make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea; first I’ll take a 100mg Docusate, with plenty of water.
No summoning to the Porcelain Throne yet, this bodes not well, and I anticipate that Constipation Konrad will be in charge when it does arrive.
I got the prescription bag emptied, and checked on the contents, and stored them away in their respective places in the medicine drawers.
The ‘Hum’ was heard again, of course. But it was not so intrusive this morning. Yee-Ha!
I found that the 100mg docusate sodium pot was easy to open, so that’s another good thing? Swallowed a capsule with a full mug of water, as instructed to, and then got the other medications out, and took them as well.
For some reason, the sphygmomanometerisationing, needed three goes before it operated, fault messages the first two goes?
The SYS had gone down a lot. Phew! Same with the DIA and pulse as well.
I had some difficulty in locating the stick thermometer. For some unknown reason, although there may be many to pick from; like memory failure, I’d dropped it and didn’t hear it wherever it went, stupidity and going bonkers are favourites.
I eventually found it in the first drawer I looked in, undoubtedly, the work of 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 mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and pants off of me!’
The reading was very-low this morning, at a lowly 33.9°c?
I tried once again to get a decent nighttime shot from the kitchen window, using the Canon camera this time, but nope, it seems I have failed yet again. Humph and Spit!
Onto the computer, and decided to make a stand-alone Inchy’s 5th Escape’ blog of yesterday’s outing. And, Puggleclumpdimwit, Flagtoggles, and Botherations!, it took me five hours to get it started and finished! The flaming day has gone! What a lamebrain! Then is still needed the email link, Facebooking, Pinteresting etc. and I was mentally drained by then!
Now I faced finishing off the Thursday post! Another two-and-a-half-hours lost!
I made some brekkers (Last of the biscuits), no bath or shower yet, and I wasn’t too keen on bothering! What an utter twit! I went on the WordPress reader and got carried away, more time lost.
Took a break and got the potatoes cooking in the pan. Then, by the time I’d got the diary finished and posted, I’d been up for eight hours, and didn’t feel too good. Went to update the Pinterest photos, and the system was down Grrr!
Posted the blog, and went on Facebooking! Felt a bit strained and drained now. Went on the comments section, made a brew, started this blog off, and then had a right funny turn – what happened I’ve no idea, but I appear to have lost a couple of hours? Scary!
Found a note, and at the time I could not understand it, it read; Jen £10, thank for time?
+I went through the kitchen to take the medications, and a pan was on the stove, an empty Chilli-con-Carne (I thought) can in the bin, the I spotted the dirty great saucepan of food heating up. Where, how, who? At this point I dropped the tea caddy, as as I bent down to retrieve it, all became a lot clearer, but it was a scary few minutes. The door chimes had gone, and I got the mask on, and answered it, and found that Jenny had kindly left me some yellow tomatoes on the doorstep. I took them in, a wonderful gesture, bless her, and I went to add some to the chilli in the saucepan her. I was putting some of the tomatoes, quartered and in the pan, and the phone rang. It Jenny ringing. We had a little natter and, and thinking about this, brought back the old memory box a bit. I found a note on the back of the pad, why the back I’ve no idea, with ‘Jenny £10, 20th Oct. I put the date and time on the calendar, and it all came back to me. Oh, dear, oh, dear!
I’m stopping doing computing now, too confused. I’ll see how I go, might try again later if things improve. As I was about to close down Computer Cameron, I got this message come up!
Now I am in panic mode! Dare not try to restart. All het-up and bothered.
I got the meal served up, on the tray. I thought it was the mild chilli-con-carni. I added some of Jenny’s quartered yellow tomatoes to it, potatoes, added some gravy and Squid sauce, a (naughty) mini-apple pie. Cox’s apple, a pot of yoghourt (but later dropped and broke the pot, taking the tray to the recliner, more mess and worry!). And my evening medications.
It wasn’t until I took the first taste, that I realised, this is not chilli-con-carne! I’d opened a can of beef in gravy by mistake, and not even apprehended it. Sad, innit? Still, it wasn’t half-tasty, just not what I expected. This meal will not encourage Constipation Konrad to ease off, will it?
I went to move the lemon yoghourt pot away from the heat of the fodder, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters timing caught me out again, and the pot dropped, bounced off the arm of the recliner, hit the tray on the Ottoman, and off straight into the waste bin! Unfortunately, hitting the rim, and busting open as it fell in. What a state the carpet was in! I just had to try and clean it up straight away, fumbled about and made a terrible job of sorting it out, I shall have a reminder forevermore, in the form of a blotchy scar on the carpet!
Frustrated, for a moment, I had my own personal psychological mandemic! Hehehe!
Not exactly carminative, s originally planned, but, ah-well, I still gave the nosh a Taste-rating of 7/10.
I took the tray and cleaning stuff back to the kitchen, and I returned in hopes of Sweet Morpheus, helping me forget the disasters and mistakes, even if only temporarily.
As I was resettling my wobbly-melon shaped stomached, crumbling-healthwise body into the c1968 recliner, and threw the green quilt over the horrific sight before me, the feet and ankles came out of the other end as I got the pins on the chair. The inflamed ulcer scar seemed to be dying down a smidge, the feeling of maggots under the skin had disappeared, no new blotches, papules or blemishes were visible—the stinging when I catch anything against it, less far less bothersome. (At last, I’ve found something that is improving. Hahaha!
It felt like I’d dropped off, and within seconds, the Thought-Storm-Torrent began. Fed-up? Me? Yes!