TFZers Ballet Stars ♥
Tuesday 30th June 2020
Sinhala: 2020 ජුනි 30 වන අඟහරුවාදා
23:25hrs: No sleep at all, Sweet Morphious, denied me by being woken up repeatedly; callers, Toothache Thomas and Anne Gyna, all successful in ensuring I got no rest. Groggleknockers!
I decided to give up! I edged my colossally-stomached, wobbly-torsoed body and skinny-dangly legs, out of the £300, second-hand, not-working, c1968, rickety recliner. Off for a wee-wee.
Ah, things were better this time! A bit more force and less spraying. Still the green-grey colour, mind.
Off I plodded to the kitchenette, every step taken was an example of coping with pain. From the toes and feet! (A little sympathy prompting there, sorry about that!) The late-night view was difficult to photograph. I had four goes on different settings before I got a shot that was as close as dammit to what it looked like in the viewer. This one was with the Aperture Priority selected. The Night Panorama that I tried produced a black picture only?
I got the kettle on and did the first of the Health Checks.
The sphygmomanometer results were the best for ages! SYS 136, DIA 64, Pulse 80, and the body temperature was just showing up as low. (It does that, it goes from the reading to high or low, when I am insensate and not quick enough to get it out of my ear-hole to have a look, Hehe!) Ah, well!
I took the medications and made a mug of Glengettie Gold Tea. On the first sip of the brew, I started hiccuping. Two-hours later, when I got around to writing this, I was still hiccuping! I hope this did not bother Herbert above me, for they were loud and vicious disembogue’s, irritating, almost non-stop!
So annoying and frustrating! I tried the drinking of the luke-warm tea from the opposite side of the mug.
I shouldn’t have done that! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at the wrong time, and I dropped my mug and created a picklement for myself! Bugglesworthlessness!
On the light at the end of the tunnel search: The miracle of it hitting my left knee and depositing some hot tea, down the leg as mentioned above, then bouncing off of my knee, and straight into the waste bin, pleased me! Amazingly the mug didn’t break (that’s twice I’ve dropped it in the last three days), and the mess was minimal because of where it came to rest. So, the cleaning up was more straightforward, and the foul language was not so severe as it might have been! A smidge of good luck there methinks!
I cleared up the mess and went to make another mug of tea. I got the pork shoulder steaks, with new potatoes in the crockpot cooking. I added sea salt, Light Soy sauce, some pork gravy granules, and seasoning. (Too much methinks?) I’m not sure how old the gravy and seasoning is, but it still hadn’t dissolved two hours later? Have I viliorated my meal planning? Having a feeling that this is not going to have a happy 
ending, and my EQ backed me up.
The day is breaking now! I updated the Inchcocks Photos widget on the blog. Replaced with all Winwood Heights people now and then. I updated the Monday post. WordPress Reader. Next, on to the Facebooking.
The wee-wees had decreased. Anne Gyna had eased off. Toothache Thomas, the feet and toes continue as the main pain-donators. Haha!
Then, the Phlebotomy Nurse, Christina, let herself in the flat. She’d been pressed in by someone in the foyer. Didn’t half make me jump! Hahaha! A good job, I’d taken the wash and shave early, and had some clothes on! Gawd that would have made her jump more than her arrival made me! Pity, she was in a great rush again, that’s why she had to come so early. She still managed a bit of nattering while she took the blood, Bless her cotton socks ♥.
I felt a bit peckish, and I went to get some biscuits and made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. Dizzy Dennis kicked off while making the brew. Humph! Two hours later, I limpingly meandered off to get the Ablutions tended to.
Ablutionalisticalisationing Report:
- The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Much easier than yesterday. Not so messy, and far less painful! Only two dropsies.
- Toothache Thomas made cleaning the teeth a grindingly, agonising job!
The shaving had a few clangers involved. Cuts were in fashion this morning. Several of them, but every one of them was tiny, yet bled a lot more than usual.
- The Shaving dropsies just might have been a record. I lost count of the times the Jenny-supplied picker-upperer was used! Razors about six times if I recall rightly, the foam and the After-Shave bottle I used to stop the bleeding.
- The medicationalisation went better than usual, though. Only dropped Harold Haemorrhoids cream once, the Germolid the same! I did come close to losing the Olive-Oil-dropper, but I kept control. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
- The deodorant, Saccades Sandra Spray, and room freshener were all dropped several times! Humph! A final fling, as if to put it. Hahaha!
The knees looked much better, and the leg veins were shy today. Oh, I’ve just noticed, I’m no longer Hiccuping!
Off to check on the pork in the slow cooker. The seasoning I’d added, had still not dissolved? (I must be careful and make sure everything is safe before I make it into a stew).
On closer inspection, I found that the pork shoulder was already cooked, and was soft. The potatoes were still hard. And I’d forgotten to put the mushrooms in the mix.
No problem, mind you. My absent-mindedness, paramnesia, and blank-spells were ion existence before the stroke. It’s just that since then, they have taken up permanent residence within the grey-cells! As with the Peripheral Neuropathy and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, they are a part of Inchcocks make-up nowadays. I took out the pork and some gravy and added them to the saucepan with the peas.
As I was pondering on whether to take another picture from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, thick-framed, impossible to get at to clean (without risking life and limb to use the step ladders), letting the rain in, new kitchen windows. I put the kettle on to boil again, the flats Fire Alarms sounded.
By the time I got to the balcony and opened the finger trapping end window, that also lets the rain in, well, they all do, the first of the tenders responding arrived. Followed a minute later by the second vehicle.
The crews strolled into the foyer. Judging by their casual and ambling approach, I took it that they didn’t expect the alarm to indicated there was a real fire. After all, it must be three weeks or so now, since the Winchester Court Fire. Longer since a Woodthorpe Court one. The crews were on their way home within five minutes. Thank you, lads!
When I nipped onto the balcony to see if the chaps had departed, I took a snap through the window of the end of Chestnut Walk. I didn’t want to risk injury opening the lethal metal spring clip window again. No, that’s wrong. That window is just impossible to open, too tight. The maintenance men tried for me five months or so ago, a
nd they couldn’t do it. It was when they came to look at the plaster breaking up on the ceiling of the balcony. Naturally, they have not been back.
I opened the left end window that one works! To take the 2nd shot in the other direction. The picture looked pretty with the oh-so green trees.
Then onto CorelDraw to do some graphics.
Oops! Time for the mobile shop, it’ll be here in twenty minutes. So, I put Computer Cameron in Sleep-Mode and got the wheels, cash and down to the ground floor… well, that was the plan, anyway!
A new system has been set-up for the lifts again. Sensible, but time-consuming! As it is, we are only allowed one resident in a lift at a time. So, it can be a long wait to get the elevator at times. Now, we can only one lift, the right one is for residents & Visitors, the left one is reserved for Construction Workers Only. As I say, understandable, but so frustrating.
The Construction Workers lift kept coming and the door opening, repeatedly. I leant in, and pressed the ground floor button, then pushed the call button (Which works for the nearest lift). The Workers lift kept coming back up and tempting me to be naughty, but I resisted! This happened three times. Would I 
make it down in time to catch the mobile shop? Dang, dang, dang… Dang! Hehehe!
By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, the electronic sign informed me I had a minute to get outside before the ETA of the shop.
Luckily, it was a few minutes late in coming. It was nice to have someone to natter to, even from a safe-distancing way away.
It was windy out there, one gal had not got a jacket on either. Brr! I took this picture while awaiting my turn. I got some bits, about three, the chap had not the other three items I fancied. Can’t be helped!
As I said my farewells and got back into the flats, it dawned on me how much I’d spent to buy this few items? I purchased four tomatoes as well. Had to tell him that two were rotten and gone soft. He changed them for me. Well, the chap is new to the game, and a life-saver at times, so no complaints from me. He was a used-car salesman before the danged Coronavirus arrived. His missus doesn’t come out with him anymore, here is the entrepreneurs’ story link: Car Salesman starts Mobile Shop.
Josie came in behind me and insisted I take a pint of semi-skinned milk for the one I let her have on Friday. I said, “I don’t use semi skinned, I prefer to use whole milk, but less of it.”- “Why did you have it in then?” – “I kept it in reserve with it being long-life, just in case” Anyway, she forced it on me. Hehehe!
We got up to the flats, and Josie held the door open for me to get in with the trolley, bless! I got in with the bits bought – £6 something for these. The apples were of particular interest. The label read, Product of France. The apples look tasty, so I got one out to nibble. The stick-on tag on the fruit read, Grown in New Zealand. I took a couple of the seedless grapes to try, and noticed there were a lot of bare fruitless stalks! Hahaha!
I’m getting a smidge tired now, nearing my usual nosh and head-down time. But, I need to stay awake for the Morrison delivery arriving late on. So, back to the CorelDrawing for a while. Hello, a phone call coming in, I hope it’s Sister Jane to tell me how she and Pete’s coping.
Nope! It was the Morrison delivery man Julian, saying he might be arriving early. So I saved the work, turned off Computer Cameron, and got ready for him arriving. I took a peep outside to see if I could see the van…
I thought at first, it was the Morrison van. But on a closer look, I’m afraid it was the Emergency Ambulance. Oh, dear!
A few minutes later, and the fodder arrived. The chap put the carriers in the hallway for me, I thanked him, slipped him a can of G&T, and took them through to the kitchen and stored them away.
Well, they made a right mess of the oven trays I’d ordered. They charged me for 1×2 large trays and sent just one (Crushed) individual one! And 2×4 small trays and I didn’t get any, but the label that goes on them, was in a carrier? I’ll be so glad when I can get out and buy food for myself. Humph! The two packets of sweet potato pancakes were one! I was all confused!
And muggings here thanked them and gave him a treat! Frangleklops!
I got the stuff put away, and got the meal served up. At least this turned out alright. Made even tastier with the two Sourdough muffins dipped in the gravy! A stew of sorts. Onions, mushrooms, pork shoulder, all overseasoned with Soy sauce, Balsamic vinegar, tasty juices, canned potatoes and garden peas. Flavour Rating: 7/10.
Got the washing in the bowl to soak overnight. And down into the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner, in search of sleep. Which surprisingly came sharpishly.
The landline flashed. I hazily of mind, struggled up to answer it. It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the new dosages for the Warfarin, from the Anticoagulation, Deep Vein Thrombosis Unit. Tue 2½, Wed 2, Thur 2½, Frid 2½, Sat 2½, Sunday 2. There was no number for Monday? Unless, in my half-awake state, I missed it. Which is a possibility? The next blood test is in on Tuesday 7th June.
I wrote the figures down, thanked her, and climbed back into the none-working, sickeningly beige-coloured, c1968 recliner. In search of Sweet Morphious once more.
This time with a lot more success!
Apart from several disturbances to have wee-wees. (All of the RPD (Reluctant-Painful-Dribbling) variety, I must have got, ready for it… six hours kip in between! Great!
Off to the wet room, for the most sprinkling and spraying release ever! I had a job to see that much of it had reached the porcelain at all. But, on the bright side, it made me clean the WC tank, seat, floor cabinets, the floor itself and the handwashing sink. Also, various parts of my body. Christened this one a VSWAO (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over) wee. You’d be surprised at how much had sprinkled on the arms and upper torso, too, I was! 
Took the medications, and remembering yesterdays nightmare Accifauxpa, I very carefully, nervously made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. I managed it without any further dropsies, scolding of my body parts, or injury! Phew!
Waiting for it to brew, I took a shot of the morning view. Then, imbibed the morning medications, and back to the wet room for another wee-wee. Which was of the same VSWAO mode as the first one was! 
I got the Health Checks done. The SYS had come down at last. The earhole temperature of 64°f seemed fine enough.
I sorted out the waste bags. Five small bags were taken to the waste chute, and the gigantic blue recycling bag had some stuff added to it. Far too big for the minuscule opening in the chute, so I can take it down to the caretaker’s room in the morning.
He put the good through in the hall for me, I slipped him a can of G&T, then got the bags into the kitchen to sort through them. 
do. Kitchen towels, potatoes etc. Next bag, endless cakes? 
Concentrated on making the nosh… carefully, not taking any risks.
But for any proper sleep, my Sweet Morpheous, I had to wait for hours! 
Eventually, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and the dying sun put in a surprise visit. 
1
: I’m afraid I didn’t make it in time! Self-embarrassment-Mode-Adopted! The evacuation was accompanied with a bash at the crossword book. I amazed myself and got a few answered. But the Accifauxpas in not arriving at the Porcelain Throne in time took away any sense of pride or worth. Say no more! Gruffshameblowit!
A trickle of self-loathing and worthlessness, combined with an almost painful embarrassment lingered. 
morning. I got the kettle on, and the equipment out for the Health Checks. My BP was worryingly high!. The Sys showed up as 177! The temperature came out as 68.5°f. 
Then I wondered if there are any at-home INR test kits available, and how much they might cost. 
The ablutions to be done next. A stand-up washing and shave session. As it was too early to use the shower, for fear of disturbing my neighbours.
A couple of dropsies, no shaving cuts, and no knocking into or anything over. No dizzies, no stubbed toes! Brilliant! Now I was cheering up a bit, getting back to my usual self! 
I thanked her, she left the bag of needs behind the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, rickety recliner, and off she went. 
It didn’t take me too long to get it cooked, 40 minutes from start to finish. The bread had thawed-out alright, and was so soft and tasty. 
03:00hrs: I stirred into consciousness, didn’t like it, and fell asleep again. 
By the time I decided I had to pull myself together, the kettle had boiled, and the water had cooled considerably. 
I got on Computer Cameron and made up this template. I started off the blog, then went to update the Saturday post. 
A couple of hours later, and I went to make a brew, and, oh boy, the fog was coming back again. 
I came out, all refreshed, and got the rubbish bags made up. And took them to the waste chute. Utilising the three-wheeler trolley. 
Then I investigated the Facemasks that had been delivered yesterday from Amazon.
Of course, my having a treble chin, and large head for my torso, that needs to be covered is bound to make them tighter. Hahaha! 
flaky-cheesy biscuits! And a box of 30 Branston Pickle 50g Cheesy Cheddars!
Getting tired and hungry now. The short date cooked meats need eating, so I’m the man for that! 
Settled down to watch an old 2016 Euro Match on the telly. 
22:40hrs: Sunday evening: Woke up with such a jump, bit of a panic, cause I didn’t know what or why I had sprung awake so suddenly! 
I carefully removed my avoirdupois, fat, fleshy, gross, outsize, paunchy, plump, porcine, portly, stout, over-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968 recliner, and limped to the balcony for me first gander, no signs of anything out of the ordinary.
In the miniature-hallway, I could see one of the black bags I’d put there earlier sticking out a bit. I went to have a closer look to see if the p[lastic bags of rubbish had fallen and made the mystery noise? 
Nope, they all seemed to be where I’d left them in the first place earlier in the night. Dizzy Dennis was trying to revisit me. It’s not right, this! 
A peer into the wet room, all seemed to be okay in there, no signs of mishaps. 
I nipped back again into the wet room for a wee-wee and took a snap of the tootsies. The overgrown toes and heels were particularly painful. Also, the limbs looked rather etiolated, anaemic and cadaverous-like. But I knew I’d not snuffed it yet, cause I took this picture and put it in this blog. It might have been an imitation of Big-Foot, but more likely Pale-Foot. Hahaha! 
I got up to make another orange drink. Argh! Glubbledonkeeeeshski! Stubbed my toe on the vacuum! How I managed not to shout out loud, was a miracle! I made a right-good job of it too. Hitting three toes, not one, oh, no, Three of ’em! But it didn’t bother me! 
Botherations, now I suddenly feel tired enough to get some kip, but also hungry? I’ll have a pot noodle, and put the TV on. That should ensure sleep cometh. If I remember rightly, the last time I had a Pot Noodle, it helped things to move in the Porcelain Throne usage department? 
As I dismounted the £300, decrepit, second-hand c1968 recliner, I noticed that nearly all of the veins, spider, saphenous, popliteal, tibial and femoral, had gone into hiding? Hahaha! What was going on here then? Amazing! 
I had a wee-wee in the wet room, and the planning and envisioning started as I got into the kitchen to do the medicationalising. The Sys as down nicely (at last!), the pulse up a tad, but I don’t think its too high. At 36.6°, the temperature was up, also.
Then a determined effort was made to sort out the waste bags. I made up another small white bag of recyclables and put the sizeable 80-litre back with the others. Planning to put all of the smaller bags down the waste chute, and take the big one down in the lift to the caretaker’s area.
I got all, bar the big bag on the three-wheeler guide walker (not an easy job, as you can see, Haha!) Of out and to the waste room chute. Got them all down without any bother, and limped back, glad that I’d used the walker. It is so much safer and more comfortable on the feet than using the walking stick.
Got some new potatoes in the crock-pot, the yare smaller ones this time, so should get cooked in time, I hope. Added just some sea-salt this time. No more fancy seasonings this time!
Then got another of the zip-up jumpers hand-washed. Bit of a messy job. But got it done, wrung and hung. These are hard to ring-out, but the material drips down quickly, and I kept twisting at the bottom every ten-minutes or so. The one I did yesterday is hanging in the hall, above the airer.
The landline chirped int life. And a certain amount of satisfaction was obtained, when I found that it was the delightful and beautiful Hristina, my favourite Phlebotomy Nurse, calling! She said she would be in to take my blood, tomorrow, between 09:00 > 11:00hrs. This cheered me a tad! I have not had a blood test for about 3-4 weeks now, Coronavirus being the reason. And I’ve not seen Hristina (Pronounced in English as Christina) for eight or more weeks.
Getting late now, and Weariness Willy is kicking in. I’ll get the nosh done while I’m still awake.
I went on the balcony, to take a photo of Chestnut Walk, and wondered, where have all the red cars gone? Not one red-one was in view on the site!
A quick nosh tonight. The spuds, mushy peas with vinegar, battered fish and tomatoes. A fair dollop of fodder, but I ate it all up, like the good boy I am. Haha! 
03:10hrs: I woke with a melee of mixed memories from the dreams I’d been having, floating about in my head. But they soon dissipated off into the ether. 
I’d scribbled endless reminders over several pages of the writing pad (not that I can remember doing so). Hundreds of words, with about ten of them readable! Humph! By all accounts, I had dreams all through the night, but working out what they were about was impossible. Although I was not surprised to identify the words chasing and chased. So annoying. Because for me to have bothered writing about them, they could well of been interesting and worth recording? Fangleklops! 
I got things cleansed, and spruced-up, and dropped the towel down by the WC. I bent down to pick it up. Which, in itself was a stupid thing to do, with the small picker-upperer hanging inches away on the seat-raiser, and not used! I fell forwards with a little encouragement from Dizzy Dennis and caught my tackle against the corner bar. Started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding! I had to go through the painful process of cleaning and medicating the lesion, and it was almost too much for me to cope with. AAArgh! Distinguableness!
And to think, a few minutes ago, I was moaning to myself because I couldn’t remember the dreams I’d had. I had to sit down for a minute or two. Changed the PP’s and medicated all delicate areas in need. The now getting thinner than ever, pins (legs) looked a lot better, at least. It’s a good job I accidentally bought the last pair of slippers a size too much. (Silver-Lining search result)
I got the kettle on and amassed the medicinal needs. The hemadynamometer readings were okay, I think, Sys 164, Dia 68, Pulse 77. The thermometer is still playing up and not showing any figures, just ‘Low.’ I got the medications taken, adding a Senna and took Macrogol drink (will I ever beat Constipation Konrad, Hehe!) Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed Saccades liquid in the eyes, and made a brew of Morrison Extra Strong Assam tea. 
I made a start on this blog. Then got the ablutions tended to, in case the mobile shop comes. The session went very well. 
On my way back to the foyer, some of the Nottingham City Homes lads, who restarted work this week, along with some Water Control chaps were working away.
I rushed about and got myself down in the lift with the old three-wheeler, and Steve the caretaker and some resident (I knew them but could not recall the names, as is usual for me) And greeted them, and a few people were scattered about at a safe distance waiting. They moved outside as 12:00hrs was approached. I still managed a bit of nattering again.
When the van came, at ten-past twelve, Roy, Betty and Lynne were waiting, and when the van opened up, they all kindly waved my forward to go first. Now, this might sound soppy, but I appreciated that a lot. The legs, feet and toes were all giving me some hassle, and Shaking Shaun was visiting now. Bless them! 
Bacon now baked, tomatoes sliced, cheese and two Marmite Riced cakes, and brown thins, a lemon mousse, medications and a mug of orange juice all got ready on the tray. Off to and on my knees and more-than-ample belly in the recliner. Flavour Rating; 8.5/10, it went down very well, my coenaculous, satisfied! 
Got the pots washed, had a wee-wee, washed and medicated, and back down in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Noticed the veins in the right leg, and thought it was fattening up, or filling up with fluid a smidge. Also, a fresh pinkish whatever was coming up on the foot. Fingers crossed that it is not the start of another leg ulcer. No itching or pain from it at all. 
03:30hrs: I came back to imitation life, with my body sat on, as opposed to laying on the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured rickety recliner, that my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete broke when he was flat raiding and stealing my valuables while I was in the hospital. (I must remember to ask him for them back, but I might as well talk to the wall) My feet rested on the serving tray on the floor. Crumbs and bits of bread were stuck to my feet, trapped in the folds of my pharaonically-sized stomach folds, and I even fund some in my right ear-hole! What the deuce had I been doing overnight? What a moyshe kapoyer I am! 
I had a look up at the latest figures for the pandemic on Google. They are here on the right-hand side. They make bleak reading. 
being able to get this worked out. I worked my way through the fear, and at one time, in Tesco in Duckworth Square in Derby, where I was cashing up 24 tills, and dealing with the Green Shield Stamps issue, without a problem. Then the stroke arrived, and since then, I have been struggling back with the phobia! Humph!
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the pressed door buzzers. Aha! It was an Amazon delivery. I now have stocks of the wonderful Gengettie and Thompsons Punjana tea, Marmite individual pots, pots of porridge, and the bitter-tasty San Benedetto Clementine juice, to last me hopefully all through the rest of the lockdown (I hope). 
Got the Clobetasone Butyrate cream, and went to the wet room to clean up Little Inchies fungal lesion and applied the cream (I usually do this in the WC room, cause my screams of agony cannot be heard and disturb my neighbours with the door shut). This is the second most painful of my medicalisationing sessions.
Of course, it did nothing to help me get to sleep! I carefully made my way back to the imagined grinning at me now, recliner. I put the TV on, and to my greatest pleasure, Red Dwarf was just starting! Then I found out another episode was following. No problem with staying awake tonight. Old seen-before ones, of course, but I so enjoyed watching them. 
00:05hrs: I stirred into ersatz life with a Thought-Storm. But I think the frontal and parietal lobes were at odds with each other, and one of them refused to get involved? Hehe! For it was all over in a minute or so? Then the noise from outside caught my wandering attention. Not, for once, the ‘Hum’, but the wind and rain hitting the windows. (Mind you, the horrible hum returned as soon as the rain stopped later!) Storm Jorge, I presume? 
As I was making my first essential, crucial, vital, imperative brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, I noticed the lack of stinging from the right legs Sock-Glide injuries. So, I whipped down the jammie-bottoms and took a look, then this photo of them. It’s amazing how things seem to 
clear up so quickly on the right side of the body lately. Great stuff! 
I had another determined deep time-consuming search for the collapsable walking stick, but no luck. I wonder if I gave it to someone? Did I break it? Anyroad, I decided to buy another one. Went on Amazon. I also ordered a long picker-upperer at the same time. Both to be delivered on Sunday. Hopefully, the same thing won’t happen to either again this time. I’ll try not to lose this collapsable walking-stick, keep it in the trolley-walker. And the picker-upper, I will try not to leave where the walking stick goes, then I won’t mistake it for a walking-stick, get a dizzy-on and break it falling over! (Life can be a challenge you know. [Cry of sarcastic, mirth!]) 
I eventually got around to computerisationing! It felt like I’d been up for hours already… hang-on, I had! Tsk! I started on the Friday blog updating. It took me a few hours with all the photos I’d made. But my persistency paid off, and it was finally finished and posted off!
A messy job, with lots of pots and pan cleaning afterwards. But, worth it, despite how weary and done-in I felt. The rice I’d flavoured with Hoisin and BBQ seasoning, added garden peas, the mushrooms (cooked with black bean sauce), and some black beans. Sausages from the freezer, a pot of lemon fool, and wallah! 
01:15hrs: I woke with the mind doing ut own thing again, and I genuinely feared the worst. Yet, within a few minutes, I was battling out of the £300 second-hand recliner, had urged and forced my misshaped, wobbly mass of a body onto its feet, and did few moves, bends and wriggles to test out the ailments, and was in recent form, I thought, anyway. 
The evacuation almost had me cheering! It was that good! Not too big, 
I made some tea and took the medications. Then got the updating of the blog done. The saving was failing a few times, but this time, I thought it might be a WordPress problem? The updating took ages, mostly through having to keep stopping for Saccases-Sandra to clear. Many hours after starting, I got it finished. Phew! 
I turned everything off and got the ablutions tended to. I called on Josie again first, while I’d got clothes on. No answer again. 
The ablutions produced many dropsies. No proper Whoopsies, though. Another call on Josie, no luck. 
Back to the stone-cold meal, not that there was much to harm. Only the mushrooms, garden peas and potatoes were heated anyway. 
23:30hrs: I have never woken-up so non-plussed, discountenanced, and feeling so wish-washy before in my life! (No… I tell a fib, when I came round after the heart operation it was worse!) 
I rose from the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. Then posted off his pools coupon and won a fortune, that complimented his £2010 grand Lottery win. He retired at 40, the windfall of being left £84,000 by an unknown relative enabled this. He’s a lucky lad. 