Inchcock (In Briefly) – Friday 23rd October 2020: As a defeated-fantasist, I’m losing all hope of anything ever going right again, here!

TFZers Gather at the Cabin! ♥

Friday 23rd October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 23 Hydref 2020

02:35hrs: A rather abrupt diary today, folks. Medical issues have got be all behind, frustrated, irked and most irritable with life. But there you go!

 After a wee-wee, it was time to sort out the medicationalisticalisationing things to get the Health Checks, medications taken, and Enoxaparin injection is done.

I’d made a cock-up with counting the Sodium needles, so will need to talk to Warden Dean later, to see if she can ring the Doctors and Chemist for me. (to see if the prescriptions have gone out, and the chemist can deliver them for me)

Just getting the injections done, there were two this morning 2x40ml, was a mammoth job. I tried different ways to avoid any accidents in the event of Nicodemus, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Peripheral Pete’s right leg dancing kicked-off, while I was injecting. I’m sure I had an idea to try something last night, but it’s gone now. Tsk! It all went fine, though. I reckon that yesterday’s pain was cause I was doing it to straight and going in too far. Lesson learnt! The old Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer machine worked perfectly. But the results were far from good. Tsk!

I like the new thermometer. I set it about four-inched from the forehead, and the reading was okay, but yet again I forgot to get the camera ready and had to do it again when it turned of rather quickly and caught me out. A lot of things do that! Hehe!

I got the Nikon camera to take a photograph of the morning view from the finger-trapping, light and view-blocking, rain letting in, deadly for old folks to get at to clean, new kitchen windows.

Got on the computer and had an awful lot of photos to sort out first before I could use them. And between SSS and Nicodemus, along with the worst ever service from Fries Liberty-Global internet crap service, without going down, mind, it took me hours to get the job done.

I was getting all het-up, bothered and angry!

The time was flying by, and it was time for the Ablutions to be done. Everything was taking ages to get done, corrected, and one again. And no calls to the Throne either!

I got the Ablutions tended to, a painful, frustrating task, that left me with a stubbed toe, three shaving cuts, a multitude of dropsies done, and banging myself against the shower chair afterwards, meant Little Inchies fungal lesion started to bleed! Grrr! But at least the ankle ulcer looked such a lot betterer.

The medicating was messy and painful, and I then had to get dressed so I could go out to speak with Warden Deana and got a second stubbed toe as I lost my balance getting the shoes on. Greggleckle! 

I got the waste bags made up and into the trolley, and a coat and hat on, out to the waste-chute, then down on the lift to the caretaker bins. No one around at all to natter to, or even give a good-morning to. I dropped the recycling bag off, and put the empty jars in the Green Glass bin, and walked to the Wardens holding-cell office.

Deana was out working, so I explained the worries over the medications and prescriptions to Julie. It took a while, and the day was shooting by me. I left and took these photos from the foyer in Winwood Court as I got out, then started a hobble back top Woodthorpe Court; but I didn’t get far. I remembered that I’d not left the WC signs, asking people not to put anything down them, other than TP. (The signs were delivered damaged yesterday afternoon by the Post Office, eight days late!)

So, I went back to Winwood Court. And Deana was back from her visits. Lost more time explaining again, and DEan kindly rang the Doctors for me and confirmed the prescriptions had been sent electronically to Carrington Pharmacy. She rang them, but there was no answer. Shell try again later, and let me know the outcome, Bless her. As in the pictures, I didn’t see a soul all the way back home. I was getting more uptight as the day went on.

When I finally got back in the flat, I still hadn’t got yesterdays blog done or sent off. But got the meal going first. I was so far behind now; I got the pictures taken while outside, done first on CorelDraw and put the in the WordPress gallery ready for later.

I took the medications and was about to make a start on finishing the Thursday post. When xyrophobia suffering, over-amour-propred Brother-in-law Pete, who, when searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electric and played with them. Now the recliner no longer works, rang. Bless him; he was concerned cause he’s not got the link via email for the blog.

We had a good natter, which cost me so much more time to get things done. But I really enjoyed the laughter. Bless, Pete as well!

Then the Porcelain Throne was needed, and it was more painful, nugget-mode, unbelievable the agony, and it was obvious, that Constipation Konrad was back in charge again. Kranklebudders!

Hours late, I got the blog finished off. Sent the link via email. Pinterested. Got the Facebook catch-up done. Started this blog. Too late to continue now, I was shattered mentally.

Went to check the meals progress and the sky suddenly became brighter, got the Nikon and took this photograph. A fascinating cornucopia of different types of clouds and colours combined to offer the opportunity to try and take a photographic gem. Bootiful! Can you see the head and face I spotted, in my tendency towards nephophilia, and apophenia? A fish, dog or a flying monster?

I got the evening tablets taken, and the meal served up. This chilli-con-carne came out a little hotter than the last one, so didn’t enjoy it as much as the te search of sleep.

Amazingly, I was off into the land of nod. But, within minutes… 

The danged Landline burst into life and woke me up! It might be the clinic about the Bowel Scan appointment? The DVT Warfarin about the Enoxaparin sodium injections, the Dentist.. no they wouldn’t ring this late. I’ll have to answer it, Thunderclaps! I’d hope they might ring off before I got to the line, but no. The PKCCP Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain in the right knee had never given me so much pain before, as I hobbled to answer the phone. All that unwanted effort and agony, and what happens? Whoever it was heard my voice and rang-off!

Worse still, could I get back to sleep again? No! Grobognangles! Grobbleknangles! Frangleklops! and Oy-yoy-yoy!

As for the knee’s cartilage pain… Argh!

Ah-well; here’s hoping for a better day tomorrow. (Not spoken as an optimist, more a defeatist fantasist!)