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05:40hrs: I rose in a cheery, gay, happy mood. Possibly a   Ahem!
I could hardly believe the dark colour of the Catheter night pouch contents—I was in shock, really. I took another shot of it when emptying the night bag. Of course, at the time, I didn’t realise that much bigger shocks were awaiting me later on, today! Yes. 

 

I took this picture of the early morning view from the kitchenette window.
At least it wasn’t foggy… yet! Only my brain was foggy. I was off to the wet room for a wash and visit to the. There was another change in styles: from two days of  being in control, now was ruling things. Mega-smelly, almost watery, it squirted out more than flowed! It took me ages to get the place, and my body cleaned up! Tsk.
Since arriving in the wet room, I’d had three or four of the .
Seeing the state of the ankles, was no surprise.
may need putting back on again, if things get any worse and the lesions burst open. Won’t please the Carers.

The Asda driver rang me on the mobile phone with a connection as normal, but it was so bad that he might as well have been talking to me in Outer Mongolian, for all I understood. I assumed he could not gain access and told him I’d come down to him straight away. Big Mistake!
I got and left the flat to find that both of the lifts were out-of-action! .
I looked down between the fire escape stairs… It looked and was daunting. 24 flights of stairs to get down. I automatically set off, with great difficulty and pains from , and . I really must have been mad, to think I could get down all that way and then back up again. However, thought I could. I couldn’t, of course.
I managed to get down to the sixth floor and started going back up again. This was when I heard the noises below me. The heroic, saving-the-day driver was on his way up; I could hear him going up a flight of stairs with two of the three boxes, back down and getting the third, then repeating the exercise for each of the 24 flights of stairs. I continued climbing back up, and the driver caught me up; I was struggling so much to get back to my floor. The ankles had swollen and also  was bleeding. The driver was pouring sweat, but he stayed calm and patient with me. As we got to the flat, arrived.
Between them they got the food into bags and took them into the kitchen for me. It was a big order as well.
I sent a thank-you note to Asda later in the day for the driver’s kind, beyond-the-call-of-duty actions. He deserves recognition.
Did the medicationalisationings. I took this shot of the well-tired Asda driver leaving.
Then, an Iceland order arrived! Which I was certain I’d ordered for next Tuesday? I may need more help here!
kindly put the bags in the hallway for me, ready for me to tackle later. Thanks,  Shaquille!

Then, I set about sorting out the Asda Delivery. This is going to be a long job. There is much stuff to sort out and store away. I made a start…
The spring waters and cordials were put on the floor next to the Water Alarm Sounder thingamabob on the floor. Something else to trip over.

Shloer drinkies for treats and thankyous for the Caregivers and nurses who tend to me. Soda water and spring water for the daily Catheter filling routines. A bottle of Mushroom sauce and Tomato Ketchup with pickle. Lastly, sterilised milk.
Some reet-treats for myself in this photographicalisation on the left. Vici Surimi sticks Sweet & delicate). Jamaican Lamb patties. (Tasty!) Asda Crisp & Golden Potato Rostis (Not bad at all when done until burnt a bit). But nice!

Some favourites in this one! Brown sliced baguettes! Ready meals, Cumberland Pie, Minced beef hotpot. Texas beef chunks, an all-day breakfast, and a newly discovered gem. mini caramelised sausages!

Then I moved on to the Iceland delivery storage. Far less to work with.
Curry & Barbeque baked beans, mushrooms, sugarless biscuits, batteries AA & AAA. Treats drinkie, and some ready-made coffees for the Carers who like them.

Made up and took the waste bags to the rubbish shoot in the 12th-floor main lobby.
Noticing the lifts had been repaired as I passed by them en route.
I managed to trap my hand, well finger,  in the cast iron closure drawer without any effort or input. No cursing, swearing, or spitting, just an Argh!

Back in the detention cell. I mean the  apartment, I avoided a calamity and  with seconds to spare, got it emptied just in time!
The colour was a lot healthier looking now than first thing. I got on with the blog finalisationings at long last. Worra, day! It’s well into PM now!

The mist had been around all day once it had fallen. Too busy to notice what time it fell. More like November weather, really. 

Slurp, gobble!

Took ages to force out this time.
Spent some time on the crossword puzzle.

Overnight, despite the horrendous day I’d had,  left me alone. But… the woke me up each time when it struck. Higher up on the leg now. Wakes you up with a jerk, I can tell yers. I feel a little pain each time, but it soon eases off, within seconds. By then, they had done their job, mission, aim… to stop me sleeping!
Either because of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. Or, my brain that is not communicating with that is dying off, or maybe it’s the cunning ? I’ve always had a sort of affinity with him, you know. I don’t think he likes not being liked by the souls he collects? It could be part of his plan to make living (for me) hell, then when he comes, I’ll welcome him. Just a thought. I’ve no quarrel with him at all. It’s smarty-pants Saint Peter I’d like a word with.

Sayounara.