– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – Sorry, a quickie forced on me again – – – –
Morning shot with Venus in it. (Just)

The one of tea today!

Waste bags collated.

Computing.

Getting properly miffed at this!Green gunge cleaner & freshener

J Sainsbury’s order arrived.
First two bags were emptied.
Next bag.
Another bag.

I realised that many items had been delivered, not charged for, that I didn’t order!
Here they are…
Posh biscuits, Amaretti and Biscotti.
Orange juice and Mayo.
Custard Creams.
Garlic Paste.
Coffee.
Parsnips.
Box of 12 cans of cat food.

I tried to phone them to let them know, but the phone is not working now! Grrr! So I Emailed them.

The Sourdough Soda Bread was irresistible. I heavily buttered two slices and had some tomatoes with them.

It’s a late afternoon shot.

Early evening shot.

During the day, mind blanks took place, and I’m not in good shape. Mentally.

I got a call from the Doctor’s surgery about the INR confusion over appointments. I’ll explain the situation at that moment: I’d just decided to phone JS about the items delivered that were not mine… The landline had stopped working! I was struggling not to lose things already. Pain and bleeding from Little Inchy and the catheter tube. Worried about the bed not being sorted. Both started giving me angst. burst into life, and I was struggling to keep it together; how, who do I ask for help with sorting the phone, the appointments, the letter from the bank, the stomach aches, the odd messy visits, not being able to walk without risk of tumbling, , the JS problem. Then, just as a dawned… my mobile rang.
This was the receptionist at the surgery. This came at a time when etiquette was not at the top of my mind. Self-pity and frustrations were. My lowest point of the day. The brain was not coping well.
I fear that I let out what can only be classed as a desperate rant about my current problems and state of mind. The Catheter being in for so long, the leaking legs, my walking problems and other stuff, no doubt. Full credit to the kind lady. She did not interrupt me while I was in full flow of pathetically releasing my frustrations and problems to her.
She offered to make an appointment with the Doctor for me. I’d explained during my stuttering verbal rampage about my problems getting to the surgery or anywhere else for that matter. She said she could arrange and book me in for a phone-call-visit with the Doctor. But not until Wednesday next. I agreed without any hassle.
By now, I had lost my panic mode status – replaced with tremendous guilt at my little sad outburst.
Thanked her and returned to a harassed, frustrated mode again. Full of shame! But realised that nothing had improved, and my panic stations returned.

Nosh – Lost photo?

Medications removed all of the . Then she attached the for me.

TTFN