Saturday 18th April 2020
Filipino: Sabado 18 Abril Abril 2020
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? It took me a while to recall where the tune was from.
It was the introduction to Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game. What brought this to mind, I don’t know. But I do remember watching it all those years ago and being amazed at how much work Bruce put into it to make it work. My favourite Game Show of them all on TV.
On the radio, it was Just a Minute, with host Nicholas Parsons, Clement Freud, Kenneth Williams, Derek Nimmo, and Peter Jones, they were my preferred panellists. Two shows I hated to miss, and the reason for my buying my first tape recorder and DVD. Ah, they were the days!
I seem to remember getting home and putting the motorbike away in a rush, to get in and my new colour TV (Wigfalls 3/6d [17½p] a week rental) on to watch it. Happy Days! The Larry Grayson and Jim Davidson efforts at hosting the later shows, were as expected, abysmal. I just thought I’d mention it, like.
As I lay there, hearkening back to my more confident, happy and in good health days, the stomach-churning burst into life. Thus the one thing that mattered (I thought at the time), was to escape the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968, rickety recliner, catch my balance and stick, to get to the wet room lickety-split! Which, I surprised myself in doing quickly and accident-free, Slight swagger mode adopted (Temporarily).
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe!
Then, as I made my way to the kitchen, Toothache Terence kicked off. Soon to be joined by Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. And extra Cocodamol was taken with the Codeine and other medications. For about five minutes, the mind-haze and memory loss had me worried. I was so close to pressing the alarm wristlet, thinking what can tell them, how do I explain what I’m going through without sounding potty? I was so pleased when things seemed suddenly to go back to my usual, merely semi-confused state. Yet, puzzled to how quickly and abruptly, things changed again.
Of course, this triggered the fretting all over again, it always does when I have a memory blank, even a short couple of minutes one like this; I just had to check things, taps, lights, stove, door. When I got to the hallway, I found two letters on the floor.
One double-sided A4 from Citycare. I p[ointed out their plans an dedication to making sure we are all safe and instructed us what to do if we have any of the symptoms of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus). We have to call 0300 131 0300 – Option 1, then Option 5, between 0830am to 1700hrs pm, Monday to Friday. Being as it is Saturday morning now, I hope I do not get any symptoms for two days.
They also kindly gave us a 107 digit email address to use. That’s a guess at the number, cause Saccades-Sandra is playing up and I can’t focus properly to read it. Luckily, Saccades and other ailments I have are not sufficient to get me a weekly food parcel. So, I shall be of no bother to them. And am so glad that Nottinghamshire County Council, have supplied Sister Jane and hubby Pete with a delivered box of food weekly. Jane told me this while she was out shopping for eggs, bacon and some wine. They didn’t take the car or electric bike with them, that remained in the new garage at the mansion on the tree-lined avenue, with the eleven CCTV cameras, burglar alarms, pressure alarm pads and wine cellar. But, I’m contented in my three-roomed flat and being isolated and unable to get food.
Shame I don’t qualify for a weekly food parcel, but there you are. I’ll just stay here, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying and Peripheral Neuropathy making me have accidents and dropping things, scolding myself etc., Mechanical Aorta valve replacement, Hernia Harold, Burgabasia-Bernie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Stuttering Stephany, Anne Gyna, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding away accompanied my Haemarrahoid Harold, Fluid Retention Robert, Furesomide induced wee-wees, Craig Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Back-Pain-Brenda, falling over when I get an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from Neuropathic Nigel’s right leg, Conrad Constipation, Reflux Valve Roger sticking, Prediabetes Petunia demands, injecting Enoxaparin in my tummy, battling and getting injured by the Sock-glide, coping with the memory blanks, and picking at the bloodied scars from Clopidogrel Clive’s growths on my legs.
As I said, at least I don’t qualify for a food parcel, like others who have cars, wealth, health and the nerve to accept their food parcels. At least I have Jenny ♥ keeping her eye on me, and others, and a caretaker who brought me a bottle of bleach when he heard I couldn’t get enough.
But, it doesn’t bother me at all! Tsk! Hehehe!
I made a start on checking Emails and went to check up on the latest Coronavirus statistic.
Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong, the most inopportune time!
The right hand did one of its as yet rare, shooting off in varying directions, just as I was typing. The bout merely lasted a few seconds.
But it was long enough for me to get this these two windows to appear on the computer screen!
I don’t know what the fingers or hand hit to get these up, but it frit me I can tell yers!
Being a computer workings idiot is not easy. Becoming one was!
I thought I’d buggered it up now! Understanding things, working out what it was on the screen was beyond me.
Fear of losing the computer and depression took over the mind for a minute or two.
I closed the windows and sighed muchly with relief when things 
seemed to be working okay.
Maybe, if things ever get back to normal, I might be able to find a college or something that runs courses on understanding the workings of a computer. What am I thinking? with my memory? And the courses will be night ones! And Nicodemus’s nerve-ends are dying anyway, so are not going to get any better, only worse, which means I’ll have to eventually give up computing all together, that hurts!
I continued to search for the virus figures. I don’t think they are anything to get too hopeful about yet.
I went to make a mug of Glengettie and came out of the doldrums a little. Especially as I made the brew, without any spills, shakes or nerve-end interference. That was a nice change.
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
I was determined to pull myself from the darkness.
The cold sunshine went in, and a tiny few spots of a shower fell. It lasted only for a minute or so. I carefully made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Then took a couple of pictures of Chestnut Walk. There was still an earthy petrichor smell already, which was lovely.
A couple of free parking spaces, and no illegal parking at this end of the walk, ah, Saturday innit! Oh, I just noticed there was a bit of naughty parking on the double yellow lines. I think they have wisely decided to ignore this activity, with us having so few spaces available.
At long last, I got the updating started for the Friday blog. Soon got it finished, thanks to Nicodemus being kind, and despite Shaking Shaun doing his best to knobble my typing. Haha!
The rear-end wind continues to plump and plop, but not foul-smelling. Ah, I must take a mug of Macrogol first. If Colin Cramps lets me, he’s having another bash at the poor old fingers now. Dangwangles!
Checked the comments. Then some bits on Pinterest. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then onto TFZer Facebooking. Then I tried to get an Iceland order in, but no luck, slots unavailable. Even if they were, I can still only be allowed one bottle of bleach. Nowhere near enough for a week for me. Thankfully, Robert, our caretaker brought me a bottle that’s getting me through for a few days.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow.
Mental fatigue made me leave the CorelDrawing.
I got the handwashing sorts out. Dressing gown, jammie bottoms and socks. All done, wrung and hung. I put the gown to hang in the wet room.
Got the ablutions done. No sock-glide confrontation, I left the bamboo socks off. The dropsies were a little higher than of late, that would be due to Nicodemus’s nerve-ends not sending any contact messages to the brain. At times this can get confusing and so frustrating. Especially when folks say, ‘Just be careful!’ Looking 
at me as if I’m an idiot.
Which is true! Haha! Because the neurotransmitters fail to tell the brain, as they come on and off-line variably and at their will.
The shaving produced a few tiny nicks, nowt serious. Little Inchies lesion had bled only a few spits, again, no hassle; even the applying of the Cortiscord cream was not too painful. Which was a nice change for me!
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
Ate it all, and I’d had my fill. Oh, the apple was awful, soft, dry! Never mind. A Flavour Score of 6/10.
I went to do the washing up and espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field.
I wish I could have a cat here in the flat, but I can understand the impracticality of it fully. I can take tumbles easily enough now, with the dizzies and neuropathic dancing legs, Arthur Itis… and a multitude of others with a ‘Let’s-Have-Inchcock-all-over-fancying’ nature. Imagine me having a pet to fall over as well! Hehehe! But it’s still sad making.
I got down in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and pilfering my money, recliner.
I watched a film all the way to the end; but with perhaps about fifteen few-minute nod-offs in between. Waste of time, I couldn’t follow the plot.
I lay afterwards, trying to ignore the rampant Thought-Storms, mostly of guilt, self-hatred, and isolation problems.
I must have nodded off eventually, cause I woke up in the morning! Hangalisationing Horror-time!
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” 
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section. 
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. 
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk! 
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10. 
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up. 
I moved at 04:20hrs: I’d woken at 04:00hrs. And spent ten minutes or so, trying to get the mind’s spark-plugs to spark, and the brain into first-gear. 
Things did not go as expected, not by a long way. Colin Cramp’s, Constipation Conrad, and Hyrams Hyperkinesis made sure if that. The evacuation didn’t get anywhere near fruition, the sudden borborygmus, pains and discomfort from the innards were acute, and I spent ages waiting and hoping for some movement. I tried a bit of muscular encouragement to advance the proceedings, but paid for it with horrendous pangs, and stabs! In between the terrible-tribulations, I managed a wee-wee of sorts (An LSHH (Long-Sprinkly-Half-Hearted style). 
The old veins in the Peripheral Neuropathic affected right leg were looking looked so very pretty this morning. Reminded me of worms wriggling up to the skin. Hahaha!
As I got the tea made, made a decision. Yes, it has been known before (A long time ago, I agree). I thought that while being inside is a right bind and I’m not getting my daily hobbles in now, I placed the tea-bag pots on the floor! Why, you ask? (I hope). This means, at least a little exercise, bending down to get a bag, and again to put the pot back! It might sound silly to you, and most likely it is. But, the amount of tea I drink (and let go cold), should help me a bit. There is no chance of be doing any exercising today, the pains and aches are still pretty nasty, from the cleaning up of the flood, yet. So, in my mind at least, I’ve tried to do something about it. Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly? 
her box of the Mini-Cheddars pickle flavoured cheese biscuits? I ordered another box? Did I? I’m hoping I have not clicked for a regular order of these. Oh, dearie me! I hope the second pair of trews arrive today and put my warped, frenzied mind at rest about them, at least. 
I put the box in the junk room with the first one, took a packet out of the old box, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m not getting the full satisfaction from the brews lately, but that can’t be helped, I’m using the watery semi-skinned one from the Nottingham City Homes donation, Bless ’em! 
I took the three snaps above, hoping to catch the sun in between the shadows. Each time I went to take a photo, the sun went in. I gave up after the third attempt and took those above. 
An update came in on Email with the figures for Nottingham Civid-19+. So I added it to yesterdays update and made another graphic if it.
template for tomorrow
I went to make another mug of Glengettie and washing afterwards, I thought I’d missed a little purple spot on my right palm. I gave it some energetic hammering with bleach, washing up liquid and a scrubbing brush, but no, it didn’t work. On closer inspection, it looked like one of the Clopidogrel blood blisters under the skin? I feel sure that the nurse told me it only affects the legs? Then again, that was when the Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed. Since I had the stroke, so that made things come on a little quicker. It is on the right side as well. 
The cleaning up and medicating was a long, uncomfortable job. And changing into new PPs, I lost my balance and hit the wall, then sort of slid down onto the knees, in an almost slow-motion fashion! I think I questioned my parentage afterwards. 
A few dropsies. I avoided the conflict with the lethal, dangerous, scary, nerve-rendering sock-glide, by not putting any of the bamboo hosiery on. (Coward? Me? Yes!) I did clout the right shin against the mop bucket, and I vociferated with something like, “Oh heck!” (Inchcock Fib Detected). 
Limpingly I hobbled to the kitchen. Where I stirred the marinating rice and got it on the lowest setting of heat. Then I got out the pork & leek sausages from the freezer. Gawd, they looked almost white, one was broken, and the skin looked ultra thick. I thought about changing my choice of meat, but stuck with the odd-looking sausages and put the bangers in the pre-heated oven. 
While the sausages, that the label on the bag said needed 45 minutes to cook. 
03:30hrs: I woke in a positively improved state of mind. Over the last 48hrs, I’d gone from ‘I’ve-Had-enough’, to ‘Oh-dearie me’, then to this morning’s mental condition, of ‘Perhaps-Things-Might-Improve’ mode. Dangerous, I know, but that’s how I felt! As I was laid there, wallowing in this temporary-moment of rarefied, but pleasant, semi-contentment, I started to ponder on what the day will be bringing me, hassle-wise. My EQ told me to expect nice things today? Mmm? 
I have to ring or Email Jenny later, to find the time for the taxi she had arranged for me to get to the bank was due. The lower right leg was stinging before I moved (I’ll check on it later). I soon sussed that Anne Gyna, Peripheral Pete, Colin Cramps, and Shaking Shaun were going to be a bother. But my investigations had to be paused, and my ramblings concentrated on getting to the Porcelain Throne. 
Thankfully, with my staying up late again yesterday, there was little work needed to do, to finish off the blog. Although, still time for repeated corrections of Neuropathic Pete’s finger-end insensitive moments! Grangleroterisations!
Of to the wet room, and still with a morsel of this strange emotion to me, determination! 
I then got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung. Not a lot, just a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of socks. 
Then, made up and took some more black bags to the waste chute. 
As I got the kettle on, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed from the door. It was the postman, with a letter, (Jane’s) and a parcel. I thanked him and withdrew to the kitchen. 
I took a snap from the kitchen window of the sky, I was looking for dogs taking their owners for a walk, but I couldn’t see any. 
It was the Iceland delivery man. He sensibly kept his distance, put the bags down and withdrew. I was tickled pink to see I’d got some of the beefburgers added to the order. 
This caused a bit of hassle and struggle, getting all the frozen foods in the freezer! 
sent smoked kippers boil in the bag, so no smoked haddock. But that’s no bother; I like kippers as much. Despite my searching and ordering the lemon yoghourts, lemon mousse and lemon tarts, it was a no go. But they did deliver some lemon Vienna cakes, so they will have to do. At least I have some more after dinner apples in stock. I hope they have been radiated.
What a varied, up and down day so far! 
02:35hrs: As I stirred, thoughts of my pathetic, wretched, feeble amnesiac moment last night, and the ensuing flood, was grinding away at my brain and giving the stomach a taste of bile and acid. 
On near completion, I bent down to pick up the shower chair – and hit my cheek on edge of the lethal, cruel, cursed sock-glide, lurking ready to pounce on the seat! I quietly muttered a few oaths and curses! 
I thought I’d try again to get an Iceland order in. Nope, but I got one in last week after seeing these similar slot graphs, so I’ll have another go later.
I made a start on this blog, better late than never. But after an hour or so, I thought I’d try Iceland again, I really would like to get some more of their own label beefburgers back in stock they are not fatty and taste delicious! This is what they look like. so you know what to look for folks. Mind you, they may not have any in stock. And… 
By, Jiminy, I got a message telling me I am in a queue! Grrreat! A couple of minutes later, and I was and giving an order. I only had 30 minutes to get it done, so could not phone Jenny to ask if she wanted anything adding, mind you, I can do that later, I think. 
I nipped down and dropped the bag off at Jenny’s. She’s left a printer typed note for me to hand to the driver, in case Stuttering Stephanie is bothering me. 
It’s getting very late now, but I need to make some graphics for tomorrows template. I had a quick bash at the WP comments, made a brew, then got on with some graphicationalising.
I’m a lot betterer off than the poor mites in a 54-bed nursing home in Nottinghamshire, who have had 9 patients die from Corona-19, in the last four days! (Nottingham Post)
some Hickory. 
06:00hrs: I Woke up, wanting a wee-wee. Moved and felt the wet warm wriggly feeling from the lower regions. So, I launched (Well, struggled out of) my overweight wobbly-stomached body out of the £300, second-hand, none-working recliner, and made my way to the wet-room. Where the innards decided I also needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Heck of a job, a touch of reluctance, constipation coming on I think? But the evacuation was still far less painful than it has been of late. 
I made a tasty strong brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea, ominously passed wind, and took the morning medications. 
I went back into the main room and decided not to get dressed or washed yet. But just put the dressing gown and slippers on, the pins looked much improved on yesterday. 
I got some pictures on Pinterest. Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up. Then had hours on the TFZer Facebooking, I love it! 
The door chime rang! I was the Amazon delivering the keyboard cleaner. No instructions with it. Not that I have time to use it anyway. It’s gone midday already! Josie handed me the parcel, and scooted off, wisely from any close contact. 
Back on the computer, at last, to make a start on this blog. After around ten minutes, the door chime rang out again. It was Josie, telling me a loaf and bottle of milk had been unexpectedly delivered from Nottingham City homes. Now that was n
I tried Iceland again, still no slots. Blooming good job that the NCH helped me out! Looks like thick white bread sarnies tonight. I’ve got an out of date can of pork knuckle left, I might have a bash at that! When; I don ‘t know, it’s gone 16:00hrs now.
I took a picture of the clouds in the sky. 
Thank God, everything was alright! Stuttering-Stephany made it hard for the pair to understand what I was saying a bit. 
Then, now relaxed knowing things were alright with Jane and Pete, my thoughts turned to fodder! Pork knuckle, seaweed crispies, bread and butter and out of date, but tasty, last two bits of cheese. Clementine drink, lemon yoghourt and an apple. Taste, 7/10.
I woke and put the gogglebox on. Kept hearing musical sounds that I thought might be the intercom, a few times I got up grabbed the stick and checked the box and the door, but no flashing box or anyone at the door. 
Every fibre of faith, interest in life, and a dose of self-hatred like never before, came over me! It was a plumber from the flat below! 
05:25hrs: It took me that long to get to sleep, I slept through to 0525hrs, I can’t recall any dreaming though. But waking up didn’t seem like a reasonable idea at the time. 
First thing as I hedged my bulk to the right. The Pillow-Shaker Fire Alarm activated. Naturally, this diverted my disease, injuries, and bodily-scars, seeking plans, as I fumbled to get my hearing aids in, grabbed the walking stick, and with ears peeled, I went to investigate the reason. A sort of delayed realisation came to me, and a semi-panic took a hold. 
I tried to get a delivery slot from Iceland. It appears the yare fully booked until next Friday. Shame!
I got the bit of handwashing done, not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. The bath towel, and the thin dressing gown. No socks, the damned sock-glide isn’t going have me today! I got the towel done wrung and hung, then did the gown, and hung that in the wet room. 
Now, this makes me sound demented and a bit odd, (Fair enough I am!), but can you not see an expression of the sock-glide on the shower chair?
Time to get Josie’s meal prepared. I didn’t take to long to get it ready. The cheesy potatoes, (the highlight of the meal my customers tell me), had to be made with Sainsbury’s substit
not the tastiest of cheeses, and when warmed up got very stringy. But, beggars can’t be choosers! Without Jenny’s help, I wouldn’t have had any cheese to use. Stuck like glue to the utensils! I left the cutlery soaking in a bowl of washing up liquid and bleach for a few hours.
I went to visit the Porcelain Throne, and midway through the evacuation, the intercom chimed out! It was the Amazon man, with the highlight of the day, the pickle flavoured min cheddars, the wristlet alert bands and some pots to use to separate the seasoning. 
All three items were there. I got them sorted, and could almost taste the Branston Pickle flavoured mini cheddars as I did so. The pots had what I wanted in then the screw on lids, as opposed to the snap-on ones I have at the moment. There are times when Nicodemus’s 
nerve-end die on me, and it’s difficult to sense if the lids are on or not.
I got the plate filled. Took the med’s with me, along with the fodder, Clementine drink, and the light lemon yoghourt.
I rang Sister Jane to advise her of Red Dwarf about to start on the gogglebox, thinking that xyrophobia-suffering, left a fortune in a will of someone he didn’t know, pools and lottery winner, who retired at 50 years of age and has women chasing him, tall, good looking, well-built, Brother-in-Law Lucky-Pete liked Red Dwarf. It was not an easy conversation, Jane was on the Bollinger Brut Special Cuvée again. Hehehe! I’ll get in trouble for telling of that! 
Then, could I get back to sleep again? Nope! I lay there for another couple of hours, Thought-Storms brewing, self-hatred, fears, worries, they all pestered me, before getting to sleep. For three hours! 
05:20hrs: I finally stirred, after luxuriating in about three hours sleep. Which was tormented by dreams of a disturbing nature, of which I have only impressions, no real detail, other than it took place underground, and ghouls were in there somewhere? 
They have had their big monthly parcel of food from Nottingham County Council delivered. Marvellous I thought. I quoted something along the lines of, A pool’s and big lottery winner, with a car and an electric bicycle, who live in a mansion, have been left a fortune in someone’s will, get their food hamper delivered. I’m told that because my aorta-valve replacement is not disabling enough, I don’t qualify. The peripheral neuropathy and dying nerve ends, the Stroke, using a stick or trolley-guide to walk, Dizzy Dennis, falling down or into something almost every day. Dropping things several times every day, Shaking Shaun and Shoulder-shuddering-Shirley, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger sticking, Hernia-Henry, being deaf, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying, having Arthur Itis (Rheumatoid arthritis), don’t seem to matter to anyone else but me! It’s a good job I’m used to suffering and pain, innit! Pete did laugh! That cheered up.
Posted off the ailment, and started a template for this blog. As I started to create it, the doorbell chimed out. 
I opened the spray box and left the heavier juice one in the hallway. 
arrived, and Frank was on his way down with the items I’d asked to be added for me. 
I got the meal, I had a can of tomatoes, added some vinegar and hickory to it. The bacon, I cut of some of the fat and did it in the oven. Got it served with the medications. For once a good tasty one. Flavour rating: 7.5/10. 
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. 
03:20hrs: I woke, having had all of three hours actual sleep. The body and mind were not interested in waking, moving, thinking or getting out the uncomfortable, £300 second-hand, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Together for once, the brain and body agreed, and I turned slightly to a more comfortable position, to nod-off in. 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.
An Amazon order arrived, it was the single servings of long-life milk. They should have a long expiry date on them. I was going to check them but forgot all about it. Twit! I struggled with the box and the walking stick, it took me a long time, but I did get them to the kitchen in the end. I stored them under the draining board. 
Back to the computer. Minutes later, the intercom flashed and sounded. It was another delivery from Amazon. Of 24 cans of clementine juice! I thought I’d ordered tomato juice? But still, they will do me fine, I like citrus juices.
I opened a packet of the Iceland Pork & Leef sausages to give them a try, but I remembered I had some of the Surami fish stick still in the fridge, with a short use-by date on them, so returned the sausages back to the freezer. 
I opted for, tomato sarnies, sweet potato fries, beetroot, Surimi sticks and seaweed snacks, with caramelised onion chutney, for the main course. And two teeny-weeny lemon meringue cakes, and a can of the cl
On the plus side, the Surimi, seaweed crispies, and pickle were all great! The lemon Vienesse cakes were mouth-wateringly acceptable! Perhaps the best came after I took the tray to the kitchen and cleaned up the bread-crumbs, was the Italiano Clementine drink. It was not sweet at all, but tangy and bitter-tasting, and that suited me. 
It was damaged by my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, he damaged it, while he 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. The Peripheral neuralgia right leg, looked like the old ankle ulcer might be trying to come back again? I don’t think you can see it in this photo, but I knew it was there, the itching gave it away. Hahaha!