Cool TFZer, at the Tree-Top Cool-It-Cabin
Thursday 20th August 2020
Italiano: Giovedì 20 Agosto 2020
03:00hrs: I’d given up all hope of any sleep. I felt full of worries, apprehensiveness, and in a state of fearful confusion. The past few days have been a challenge, a fight, a struggle.
Now here I was, ashamed of how I’d handled, or instead coped, with the persistent ongoing, never-ending problems of recent days. Not so long ago, these Whoopsies and Accifauxpas would not have got me down in the manner they do nowadays. I approached my dilemma from another angle. Desperate to find a way of coping betterer. I had a chat with myself; “It’s not long before the end is nigh for you, so why fret over things, Inchy?” That’s as far as I got with the self-discussion, as a desperately urgent need for a wee-wee arrived!
Ever since I got up, the wee-weeing had been frequent, and every one of them was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) style and, free of any PMAD’s Pre Micturition Dribble, and Post-Micturition After Dribble. I’ll try not to mention them too often unless there are any changes in their style or mode.
I went to do the Health Checks, take the medications, and make a brew of Glengettie tea. The BP readings were up a tad, and the thermometer, that has miraculously started working again read 37.3°c. The tablets were taken, and I took the tea to the computer with me.
I pressed on with the updating of yesterday’s post, got it finished, and posted off to WordPress. Went on the Reader section. Then Pinterested some photos. Made another brew of Thompsons Punjabi tea. I could hear creaking noises all around, very strange, I couldn’t fathom what was causing them. The ‘Hum’ seemed weaker this morning. I’d sooner have the Hum than these worrying scrunching noises!
Then the computer mayhem started! I tried to post the links, but Google kept telling me that it cannot save each time I tried to put a contacts address on the Email!
I wasn’t sure if the problem was the internet connection or with Google. Or had I made a mega-cock-up somewhere? This is possible, it has been known in the past, you know! Humph!
After an hour or so of faffing about and getting nowhere fast, I asked Google if they had any problems. This came up? It didn’t help me. Apart from I now knew the hiccup was with Google Gmail.
I tried to use the M Mail, but it needed so much time and effort to set up, I thought I’d leave it and hope it comes back on later.
I went and got the early ablutions done. A had a few dropsies and a cut or two when shaving, but it was a fairish session. The medicationalisationing was a smidge messy. Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the funiculus were bleeding and stinging somewhat more than usual.
I made a start on this blog for a while, then the Iceland delivery man arrived, and put the bags through the door for me.
I got them into the kitchenette and started to store them away.
I’d bought too much freezer stuff on this order, and struggled to get it all in, but it was no good. The big bag of chips, I can’t recall ordering at all?
I put it down to my funny moment come turn yesterday when I was placing the order.
The fridge was another mystery to me, why had I bought pork pies when I’d sworn not to again? Hehehe!
I made up some black waste bags to go to the chute, a recycling one to go down to the big bin outside, then I put a few frozen things in a carrier to take to Jenny’s flat. She will make sure they go to a deserving cause for me.
I meant to ring Jenny before going, but got all confused and forgot to! I am a Schlub!) Mainly, due to my battle trying to get all the bags fitted, so they stayed on the three-wheel walker guide. Tsk!
Got to the chute room and deposited the black bags. As I was coming out, I thought to myself, ‘I’m doing alright, here.’ Fate! I clouted my right shoulder on the edge of the door! And ever since, (up to now) I have been bothered by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, so much, the whole joint is now aching. Gragglespitness!
I was going to go down to Jenny’s next, but I felt the need of another wee-wee coming on. My fear of my urge incontinence, made me return to the flat first, and visit the wet room.
Boy, I’m so glad I did – what a wee-wee it was! A BOSASSA (Blasting Out-Spraying-and-Suddenly-Stopping-Abruptly) mode. But I didn’t leave after cleaning up, for I just knew somehow that the MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) was coming. And it did. Smugness-Mode-Grade 3-Temporarily-Adopted!
Back to the lift lobby, and caught the residents lift within seconds of pressing the button. Down to the ground floor and walked through the hall, saying my hello to Doris, who was sat in a chair and looking very fit and satisfied. ♥ Out to the skip, and back in again. When we had a natter, and I took her photograph. We both agreed that the Coronavirus isolationing had ruined our social lives. She kindly didn’t mention my jerking all the time shoulder, bless her. Ah, it’s Francis, not Doris! Sorry, Francis! ♥ Names, as with many other traits, are not my strongest point.
I got up to Jenny’s flat and left the carrier near her front door.
As I got in the lift up to the flat, someone had been smoking in the cage. Eurgh!
Back to the flat, and working on the updating again, and Jenny rang me, she’s worked out when she saw the Iceland carrier the things were in, that I’d made another cock-up and run out of room in the freezer again. Hahaha! I think I might rename her Sherlockski-Jenny. Hahaha! She’s made sure that the fodder was used for a good cause, Bless Her!
Sister Jane then rang, the link I’d sent was for the wrong day, Tuesday, not Wednesday! I was having another bad day! But we had a quick natter, and hubby Pete had gone out to town and was doing alright. Great news!
So, after the call and natter, I set about trying to find out what I’d done wrong. I clicked the Wednesday link, and it told me no such address is known! I was going crazy, trying to find out what I’d done wrong! I spent hours, and eventually, but I’m not sure, think I used a different blog name, GerryNottingham, not the usual tgc6244 one, and tried to resend with that one. I don’t know if it worked on Gmail, but eventually, after much anguish and a prayer, I clicked it, and it did connect? I sent the new link off, asking Jane and Pete to let me know if it was the right one. No responses yet, so my depression grew worse.
Pressed on with the diary, and the need for the Porcelain Throne became known. Off to the wet-room zone, alone. My bad poetry comes free! Hahaha!
Chrickus-shock-and-ouch! Another solid, excruciating session! Took ages, the crossword book was utilised. (Oddly, I got a few clues solved in mid-agony?)
I tried to catch-up on the Facebooking before the Firemen arrived. Had to stop, so I could sort things before they arrive. Back in a bit…
The intercom rang out, and two Firefighters seeked entry. Pressed them in, and they were soon at the door. The two chaps came in, and it became obvious to me, I was going to have difficulties in hearing what they said due to the masks they had on.
They were trying to be helpful, and I felt like someone was interested in trying to help. They question me as to what to do in the event of a fire, asked if I’d ever had one, etc. and then moved to support available.
I mentioned that the nurse had asked the falls team to contact me again, told and shown them Metal Mickey (the four=pronged walking stick), that the team had supplied me with on their visit after the stroke. They wanted to report my circumstances to the Falls Team again and explained why this is a good idea. Then asked if I minded if they contacted my Doctor, and Nottingham City Homes, which I agreed to.
The Brain Fog and fatigue started coming on, as is normal for me at this time of day, but with not getting any sleep last night at all, seemed more severe, and it was like turning off my concentration-box. Much of the memories of the last half hour of questions and suggestions went off into the ether.
I recall thanking them, and they said not to go with them to the door, and how odd it felt not doing so. The photographs I must have taken are the main-memory prompters, and I recall feeling a lot better, but a nuisance?
The nosh came out better than ever tonight. I recall being well-pleased with it. On the notepad on the Ottoman, I’d scribbled a tick, and 8/10! Getting to sleep was miraculously smooth this time, I was off within minutes, and that was despite the Though-Storms!
A minute or so into the kip and the landline flashed and rang. It was Jenny, bless her cotton socks. Nora had enjoyed the wine and battered fish she’s prepared for her. Jen was a little disturbed at waking me, but for Jenny, no problem.
I had no bother in getting back to sleep at all.
An hour or so later, and the landline burst into life again. This time it was a struggle, for I was in the deep-sleep mode to get to it in time. It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the new INR Warfarin doses (I’d written all this down on the small notepad). Tonight 2½, and then 2 a night until the next blood test, which is on Monday 24th August. (I found I’d put this in the Google calendar in the morning, but can’t remember doing it, Tsk!)
Sweet Morpheus soon returned, Blissfully!
03:10hrs: I woke in a bit of a panic today. The need for a wee-wee has never been more urgent! Hehehe! Somehow I managed to get my flabby, obese-bellied, and skinny limbed body, free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy, yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. Got Metal Mickey (four-pronged walking stick), and waddled off to the wet room. Noticed some signs of nocturnal nibbling en route!
Disappointingly, I cracked the right shoulder against the door frame. Somewhat off-putting, as I had been doing so well in the distance-reading the last two days. Ah, well! The wee-wee was of the JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode, which caught me out a bit. Haha! 
Back to the cold tea in the kitchen. (Tsk!) And I got the Health Checks done. The BP figures were reet-grand. The thermometer started working again (it beat me why, too?). A result of 62.4°f, that’s about right as well! Took the medications. 
I celebrated with another mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took this picture on the right, then went on the WordPress Reader section. 
cleaned without any hassle or bother.
Having completed the ablutions, medicationalisationings and got some clothes on, I got the waste bags made up and onto the trolley with a white bag of recyclables. Then set-off to the waste room in the lift lobby. Got the small bags down to the caretaker’s big bin. 
I poddled through to the lift lobby and waited for the elevator to arrive. Again, not any folks around whatsoever to have a natter with. Shame that! The resident’s lift came straight away. Into the cage, I popped and pressed the 12th-floor’s button.
The button flashed, and I thought, “I’m in trouble now!” But, nothing happened, no sounding bells or klaxons, nothing happened. Which was lucky for me, I thought! 
Oh, heck! 
No panicking, though. Well, maybe a tiny bit! Humph! I checked each room and cupboard, no signs of any fire. I then rang Deana to let her know, Deana said the alarm had not activated on her panel? Comforting to know that! 
He reset the alarm and then poddled off. I got the podded peas into the saucepan, all ready to cook later on. Very lovely, they tasted raw, as well! Not many left for the nosh now, and I found some from yesterday’s podding session. Haha! 
listened to my tale of woe with the alarm as she took the blood. She was in a rush but remained friendly and kind to me. 
So I acquired some new bruises, crawled back into the rickety recliner, and sort of sulked and felt sorry for myself! But the Thought-Storms, fears, frustrations, and events of this wickedly tormenting day, flowed
04:15hrs: The moment I woke up, the memories of the ‘dodgy’ phone call from last night flooded back. I laid and stewed thinking about it, wondering what to do about it. Thankfully, the need of a wee-wee arose, breaking my train of thoughts. I disentangled my grossly big and wobbly-bellied body from the c1968 recliner. Got Metal Mickey the four-pronged walking stick) and off to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and took an RSP (Reluctant-Sprinkly-Painful) type, wee-wee. 
No demand for the Porcelain Throne, that was a rarity. 
Took a photo of the morning view, and set about getting the Health Checks sorted. 
I nearly injected a hypo of Enoxaparin. I stopped myself in time, and wondered how I could have thought to do this in the first place? Still, if one didn’t recognise that you make mistakes, you’d never know the difference between confidence and ability! Too many people in my life have shown over-confidence and conceitedness to con their way up the ladder – but with a minimum of ability. Just thought I’d mention it, like! But when I was last made redundant, the chap they kept on, was caught stealing from them a month or two later. Hehehe! 
Then stubbed my toes against the enamel on the sink riser! 
Stroke of bad luck as I was putting the milk back into the fridge. The damn right leg suddenly went into an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine! I didn’t go over mind, I grabbed at the fridge door for balance; which caused all of the things, aluminium cooking tray, foils dishes etc. to tumble from the refrigerator top! Grigglebogsblowit! I spent a long time, trying to reshape some of the trays, and get them back up again. The lost amazing thing about the incident is not the bruise I got on my left leg, how I avoided going over, or my not dropping the milk, but the flaming noise they made! Hehehe! I bet Herbert heard it! 
I made another brew of Glengettie Gold this time, to replace the Assam brew that had gone cold as I cleared up the mess. And gingerly got the milk out of the cooler, and even more carefully, put it back!
Whether it was due to my noisy calamity, I have no idea. 
Pete’s always been a bit of Charles Atlas type, fit, rarely been ill with it (Makes me sick! Hehe, only joking, Pete!) So it’s only natural he’s going to struggle to cope with this cancer. Mind you, he did once fall asleep on the arm of the setee, fell off and broke his neck! Not a lot of people can say that! Hahaha!
Pete mentioned my blog message about the phoney phone call I got, from someone claiming to be from Visa. He also thinks it was a con-job.
Got some Comments answered. Well, the comment, answered. Then did some more updating of this post.
The weather is looking a bit threatening. Might be storm clouds, but they are fast-moving in an Easterly direction. 
Christ! Herbert’s banging and thudding away again now!
I’ll get the meal prepped. Wholemeal bread thins, buttered and filled with tomatoes with a bit of onion salt. Surimi sticks, red potato-fritters, and fresh garden peas. A mini apple pie and lemon yoghourt. 
ld have done without! 
03:35hrs: I woke, in a vague cloak surrounding me. Without thinking of anything, really, yet everything at the same time. 
finding it hard to concentrate? Took the medications.
I took a picture of the view, as I hung out of from the thick-framed, rain letting-in, can’t get at to clean, without injuring myself trying to manipulate the step ladders, stubbing my toes and or falling off of the steps, new kitchenette window.
like a new pair!
I exited the wet room, without walking into anything! And definitely felt regenerated, re-energised somehow. Things were coming together in the brain department. 
The previously not-working right side brake, and been joined by the left-sided brake, in none-functioning. Grobblegnangles! And the front wheel was reluctant to go round!
I just smiled, ignored it, and picked 
them up with the long picker-upperer, singing calmly to myself… Ahem! 
Not going out over the weekend, Not been anywhere for months now, Humph!) I espied a notice board, for the 14th Floor. It seems that today, the decorators are Floor screeding. And the whole lever is off-limits today! 
I took the recycling bag out to the caretakers’ bin and was about to make my way back up to the flat, and I thought, I’d nip outside and take some photographicalisations, being as I had the Canon camera with me. 
As I left the Woodthorpe Court main lobby, I snapped the cars at the far end of Chestnut Walk. I started on my little short hobble along the road and took this photo of the now not allowed to be used (Convid-19) cut-through link-passage, from Woodthorpe Court and Winwood Court itself.
A little further on, I snapped this effort, of the frontage of Winwood Court.
Well, the sun has just come out! About time, too! 
The pot washing was done at the right time, for me to get a view of the perfect Pareidolia session. I could see two puppies facing each other! 
04:05hrs: Woke, in a ‘Widdendream’ state of mind, and took a few moments for the brain to engage-gear and pondered, over expectancies, fears and consternation’s, that lay ahead. But the need for the Porcelain Throne, soon put an end to that little plan. 
As I got freed from the rickety second-hand, £300, c1968 recliner, and got the feet down to catch my balance, it looked like the leg ulcer was trying to flare up again. A little itchy and painful this time, as I got Metal Micky (the four-pronged walking stick) and wobbled off, certain that I must have been nocturnally eating again, seeing the empty nibble bags as I made my way to the wet-room.
The view from the light & view-blocking, thick-framed, kitchen windows, was one of a depressing nature. Mist and showers! A zemblanity. A combination that may well bring forth rain later, of a severe kind, methinks, (Or not).
I got the kettle turned on, and dug out the sphygmomanometer from the medical drawer, which revealed some satisfactory results for once. I avoided going into any sort of Smug-Mode! The thermometers were still not operational.
I made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. As I went to pick up the small mug, the left hand, no, right-hand fingers started dancing of their own accord! Painfully too, in the joints. 
Then onto a much interrupted by wee-weeing, Facebooking catch-up. Ordered some milk from Amazon, in individual-serving sleeves. I took a look at the weather from the balcony. 
Punjabi, and had a peep out of the kitchenette window. Still bleak. 
No doubt taking the Total Cases number off, replacing it with only news cases, on the instructions of the Government, who would sooner highlight 22 new cases, and not not the actual 1,166, or the 4498 for Nottinghamshire. It looks better! Hehehe! I’ve been in Sherlock Holmes Mode! 
Then, I got the Ablutions tackled. A phenomenal reduction in dropsies this morning. Why I’m not sure. Shirley and Nicodemus were both behaving a lot better, is the only reason I can think of. Unfortunately, there were two toe-stubbings, and I banged my elbow while losing balance putting the PPs on. Gleefully, the medicationalisationing also went easily. I’m beginning to worry, this is not natural! 
I got my Chef’s hat on, metaphorically and in reality, that Sister Jane bought for me! Hehehe! And started prepping Josie’s Sunday lunch. 
repaid eventually). 
I settled to watch some TV with sub-titles, so I didn’t miss hearing the intercom. And it was a hell of a battle not to nod-off. I opted to get the fodder prepared and eaten, this should keep me awake for a while. Despite my weariness, I enjoyed this. Flavour-Rating 7/10. Please note the slightly less than usual amount of fodder on the plate. Smug-Mode-Engaged! Hehe!
I got the fresh stuff put away in the fridge, and found it was not cram-packed like it usually gets when I have a delivery. I’m getting betterer in not over-ordering? I mused!
I took a snap of the evening’s weather, through the light & view-blocking, thick-framed, kitchen windows, washed the pots and put them to drain, and made for the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner; in search of Sweet Morpheus! 
04:30hrs: I woke to find the room light was still on. 
Then, Four-Pronged Metal-Mickey nearly had me over en route, though. My own fault, trying to carry the camera and the grey bucket as well as using the four-pronged walking stick. No real harm was done, I just added another bruise to the arm. Hehehe! 
I took a snap through the new thick-framed, light & view-blocking, kitchen windows, that were designed by someone with a hatred of old people, (it is impossible to gain access for cleaning for old folk who are not agile and have to use death-defying step ladders, to reach!). They may have hatred or a phobia of photographers and or lack of common sense, as well. 
But, of course, it doesn’t bother me, in the slightest. I enjoy falling off of the step ladder, stubbing my toes, and laying in a heap on the floor for a few days. Living off of scraps of teabags, as I could reach in the waste bin while waiting for someone to help me get back up off of the floor. Hahaha! 
The sphygmomanometerisationing revealed some decent readings this morning. The small thermometer flashed a figure up on display for once, too quick to read it though, then showed ‘Low’, and died a death! I really must open it and see which replacement batteries I need to get. 
Then realised I needed a template, so I copied one and worked on it. Then found that the Friday post had gone off in the ether and been replaced with this one! After all the hours, efforts, and pains gone through to create it in the first place, I was sickened with myself! Self-loathing flowed, for my stupidity, and not knowing what I did wrong, soon got Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald going within minutes! I was in a sad state! 
Off to take some extra Peptac and painkillers, and make a brew of Assam Extra Strong, which was a bit weak? I tried to calm down! Not very successfully! 
reader section. Anne Gyna is still stinging away! Although, Duodenal Donald was easing off a bit. 
The enthusiasm began to return, but I still hopped off to make another brew, of Glengettie this time, to replace the one that had gone cold. Took a photo of Chestnut 
Walk below the flats. 
Throne first. What a marathon! Constipation Conrad ensured it was well over ten minutes before any movement started! And when it did, the continuous pain was pretty bad! Still, I had some crosswording done, at least. Fungleboggles! 
As for the medicationalisationing, its never gone better! Smug Mode-Developing! Back to the computer. As I began to update this post, the Sainsbury delivery chap rang the intercom I let him in, and he arrived at the door a couple of minutes later with the bags for me. Decent sort of bloke, we had a mini-natter as he put the things for me through into the hallway. 
I soon got the things stored away. The usual ‘Why did I order that’ situations were discovered. Such as: Why did I get more lemon-bliss, when I have two packs in the fridge already? And unbelievably, I’d bought another £5 bottle of Surf! Tsk! Klutz!
The radiation treatment is causing his hair to fall out as they warned him it might. He later sent me this photo. taken this morning, after the lad’s shower. He’ll end up like me shortly! I suggested a wig-search might be a good idea. Hehehe! 
Time to get the nosh done. A flavour rating granted of 7/10.
05:30hrs: I woke in urgent need of a wee-wee. Disentangled my weary, overweight, short, plump, over-bellied body from the £300, second-to-fifth-hand, c1968 recliner. Caught my balance, grabbed the four-pronged metal walking stick, and to the overnight emergency grey plastic bucket. That I found to be rather full, but could not recall using it at all? As Tom Jones sang, “♫ It’s not unusual! ♫”. 
The style of the release was of the PSC (Powerful-but-Sprinkly-Colourless) mode. The MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) lasted far longer than usual. I took the bucket to get it cleaned and sanitised. But when I got in the kitchen with in to store it away until later, I found myself needing to use it again! What’s the word, if there is one, for wee-weeing frequently? I thought I knew it, but I can’t recall… Ah, yes, I can! Urinary tract infection (UTI). I think I’ve got it coming back again, maybe, perhaps.
I did the Health Checks, with the old sphygmomanometer SYS readings showing a slight increase above the expected of 157. 
remembered to take the Furesomide. 
Updated the Nottingham City Care sheets in the folder. Then I checked another of the syringes, that was fine, and left it out to use tonight. Put the used one in the tellow… or yellow sharps box.
I’m back! Found a burst of enthusiasm, and piled a plate with the last of the seasoned fries, tomatoes, red grapes, sliced apple, a mini apple pie, two slices of sourdough thick sliced bread, two pots of dessert, strawberry and lemon and the medications.
I got the pots washed, then did the Enoxaparin Injectionalisationing, easily enough. 
I deposited the used needle in the yellow ‘Sharps’ bin and filled in the record log. 
04:15hrs: Woke, in need of the Porcelain Throne. Up, out of the c1968 recliner, and off to the wetroom. A surprising improvement in this morning motion. Still painful, but much more comfortable and quicker. Smug Mode Engaged! 
To the kitchenette and did the Health Checks. BP Sys was down a bit. I Took the medications and made a brew. The EQ told me that pandemonium of some sort was on the way. A shame that, cause I was feeling better than usual in spirits as well! Humph!
On the computer, and the Porcelain Throne was needed again! Oh, dearie me! Off to the wet room. But it was even less painful and messy than the first visit. Yahooski! 
I gave up waiting for the computer, and, and got the ablutions tended to. 
Well pleased with how the legs, feet, and knees looked. No paler than yesterday, but that’s not saying much, is it? Hahaha! Dropsies galore, but no shaving cuts, stubbed toes, or dropping of the shower-head! I like this keeping myself calm. (We’ll see if I can keep it up.) 
ecked the Norton Progress: Now, 1.8% completed. I’ll be lucky if it gets done by evening time at this rate! 
So I sorted the waste bags for the chute and made my way out and to the chute room. 
I caught my shoulder against the waste room door coming out! But, still, I kept and maintained my 
composure, and did not get all hot and bothered… too much! Humph! 
Well, what a state of affairs developed as I nattered with Robert. 
I rechecked the Norton progress 39%.
I got the evening medications, making sure that four Warfarins were taken with them. 
Bach to the kitchen, to get the nosh started. 
As I got the pots washed (getting very late now), the sun was still trying to shine. 
It’s been a rip-roaringly hot day, this Wednesday. 
I rose like a flobby, aged, blubbery dreadnought, from the £300, second-hand, rickety, rusty, unco
mfortable, sickening, stomach-churningly, revolting, c1968, beige-coloured recliner, bobbled a smidge, but caught my balance, got the four-pronged metal walker, and off to the kitchenette, to do the Health Checks.
The hemadynamometer readings showed the SYS rather high, as to be expected, with the lack of Beta-blockers, thanks to the failings of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453. I got the Enoxaparin injectionalisationing 
done.
I got the sheet-logs updated with yesterday and this mornings inoculation record.
Back to the computer, but it was so slow, then went off again! 
And I didn’t get all het-up over it! Honest! 
A decent, pleasant young man. He put the things through the front door for me. I thanked him and slipped him a can of G&T. 
Started to sort the delivery out. I went through the shop’s receipt first. 
I got the fooder stored away. 
An hour or so later, the intercom rang out again. It was a young man bringing my prescriptions for me. Nice lad, pleasant enough, and about 6’6″ tall! He had to duck to get in the door. Haha! I thanked him and slipped him a can of G&T. 
I got the medicines put away, then continued computerisationing, by starting this blog going. At last! 
The young man came to the door, the chimes with its tune to Dusty Springfields melody od Dusty Springfield’s I only wany to be with you, he handed me the box, and shot off.
Then got the pots washed, I scrubbed up, and down in the rickety recliner, to inject the Enoxaparin (or Clexane) in the tummy. 
Guess I was lucky there, I think.
t. Shattered! 
03:50hrs: I stirred into semi-mock-life, with the brain reluctant to kick-start, and when it did, it was in a state of confusion, fear, and in a nervous condition. 
I’m back! 
Apart from a shaving session of much bleeding (tab-hole, chin, lip and nose, don’t laugh!) things went well. A few dropsies and a toe-stubbing are all that’s worth mentioning. A shame this bit of good luck came now, with all the aggro over the medications not being delivered, I couldn’t appreciate my good fortune properly. Oh, the knees looked better than for ages, as well!
I made up some waste bags, and got them on the trolley, and took them to the waste room. As I was putting in the last bag, I caught my right hand on the metal surround… this made me notice the time, and I was five-minutes too early to use the disposal chute, it was 07:55hrs. Tsk! 
The Vampire nurse Hristina arrived, she looked slightly harrassed and seemed in a rush. When I explained my problem with the prescriptions, she rang the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, for me, bless her cotton socks. It seems, they stopped making deliveries four weeks ago. It would have been nice if someone had told me!
I got the nosh sorted. It looked, and smelt good to me. But my turmoil of mind, and uncertainty of the medical faux pas and situation, and bothering the volunteers to fetch my prescriptions, and having to stay awake late in case they phone me, took the edge off of the what I think was excellent flavour and taste of the fodder.
There’s no rest for the wicked! Expulsivications!