Wednesday 24th February 2021
Welsh: Dydd Mercher 24ain Chwefror 2021
A sudden sneezing and phlegm rising bout saved the day. (I apologise to any neighbours I may have woken up, with this the viciously loud series of sternutations) but there was no stopping them! The benefit was that the mind began to grasp some logicality, and the need for a wee-wee arriving at the same time, forced me out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner.
I had a wee-wee, of the most reluctant type, all over in seconds. Then took the bucket for sanitising and had a freshen up, but started to shiver while I did so. I got a jacket on and the trews and risked making a brew of Glengettie Gold.
I spotted the original cans of Stagg Chili-Con-Carne that had been delivered last night. The Dynamite meat one that may be too strong for my tastes? With the taste-buds bad again, I’ll have to leave it for a while before trying them.
Then again, the second poisonous dose of the AstroSeneca vaccine is due soon, so all this agony, misery, depression, and illness side-effects will happen all over again! This
The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer threw out slightly higher SYS 158, DIA 78, and Pulse at 88 bpm.
I took the morning medications, and I got on with updating yesterdays most-gloom-ridden diary for years. There was only SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) giving me any hassle typing wise. So I got it done in a reasonable time. Pinterested some photos, emailed the link and posted the blog off.
Went on Facebooking catch-up. A tiny bit of gurgling from the innards started. Which by the time I had finished, turned into a full-blown demand for the Porcelain Throne. Off to the wet room.
Off to try making another brew of Thompsons Punjana this time. I got some leeks and mushrooms prepped and into the crock-pot on low heat.
Back onto the computer and started this blog going. I found this disinformational
Sister Jane rang. Lovely to hear her, even though the phlegm-rising was back again. It was coming up after a few minutes of chinwag. By the time I’d apologised and rang off, and I’d got to the toilet, I flaked out.
Got a drink of water and just sat down for Gawd knows how long. Oh, dear!
I forced myself to make a small Chilli-Con-Carne meal. It didn’t taste right, but that’s the taste-buds for you. Not a lot, but I ate it all up. Washed the pots.
I Rang Sister Jane back, but I was only partially aware at the time.
Soon got down and started a routine of sleeping, waking, sweating, repeatedly shivering—a lousy night.
