TFZers Hideaway?
Sunday 8th November 2020
German: Sonntag, 8 November 2020
00:05hrs: The usual waking up wanting a wee-wee, with the innards warning me of an upcoming eruption from the innards, via the rumbling, grumbling, and quaking of the skin, literally making the folds of flesh hanging from my belly, shake, as the escapages of wind torrented away. Not only painfully, but even without my hearing aids in, I could hear the almost-musicals tones of the concinnity of the concert of escaping wind, too!
Then, as the mind gained some weak form of control over its own thoughts, the challenge of removing the bouncier than ever, bellied-body from the c1968 recliner was tackled.
A job that this morning, needed a man of steel, heroism, guts, bravery and determination to achieve; but being as I was the only person here, I had to do it myself. (Hehehe!) Clambering up onto my feet was completed with some degree of ease, but getting and keeping my balance, was a smidge difficult – even though there were no Dizzy Dennis, or Wobbling William’s bothering me. A bit worrying, that was. I took my time patiently and eventually was ready to set off for the wet room.
The wee-weeing caught me out; it was a lot more dynamic than of late (which is a good thing), and of much greater duration! The colouring put me up in the ‘Fair’ zone on the NHS Bladder-Infection grading card. And, there was no Post-Micturition After Dribbling. (It’s [Fate], doing it again, to me, fooling me by slipping in some good luck, or mock improvement medical-wise, early in the day – experience knowing full-well I’m going to suffer later) – it’s so cruel! But I wasn’t going to go into any semi-contentment or smug mode. I’m not being going to be conned again! (Well, I might be)
As I was washing my hands after taking the leak, I knocked some bits off of the floor cabinet, and I returned to the front room, to get the long picker-upperer to reach in the corner behind the loo, where the Germolene tube and Hearing-aid oils had rolled. Tsk!
I noticed how the bruise or underskin bleeding, (Which is a bruise, I suppose – waffling again, sorry!), on the back of the left hand, was getting less darker, so it might be clearing itself up? Not any pain from it, unless I bang it against something, which if not in my plans. Hahaha!
Back to WC room, reclaimed the dropped items, and off to the kitchenette, to get the kettle switched on. I peep out of unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking windows revealed a fog-and-a-half had descended. I got the Nikon camera and took a shot of the view.
Health Checks: the sphygmomanometer showed the SYS had shot back up after yesterdays respite. Now at 174, Tsk! Took the medications with spring water and then, made a note to remind me to email the Doctor later, because I need to ask about the DioctylPoo-Softeners got the thermometer into use to see if the temp had gone up any. Medications, brew and computer on and photo downloading.
As I was taking a photograph of the morning fog, a summoning came to the Porcelain Throne. To which I hastily replied with a swift, fast, hurried lightning-like rush to the WC… Well, something like that, at least I hobbled hastily there! It seems that Constipation Konrad is losing the battle again, and Trotsky Terence was in command of this visit! It will be difficult to express the changes to the nurse; each time, from one extreme to the other, I can get easily discombobulated, you know!
I cleaned up, it was a messy one; and went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And jolly decent it was.
Seeing the Chilli Con Carne cans there on the counter, I swiftly went into my Sherlock Holmesian Mode: I carried out a search and Chilli-Con-Carne shortage investigation.
I felt sure that I’d ordered three Hubbard’s cans from Sainsbury’s, and three from own label from Morrisons. I know that the Iceland shop didn’t have any of the Princes that I wanted, that bit I can recall. But: Did I put the cans somewhere else than in the kitchen? It’s possible, I suppose? So I had a reconnoitre in the other room. A degree of ferreting about produced a carrier bag, with a tin of Princes Chilli-Con-Carne, and Italian beans, and some packets of instant potato powder? And a puzzled expression on my face.
My total failure to find out what the mystery of the missing cans of Chilli-Con-Carne riddle was, Back to the computer, and bless their crooked cheating, incapable souls, Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet went down!
I made up an Iceland order. For Thursday 12th November 08:00 to 10:00hrs. Unfortunately, they have no Chilli available, Tsk! Never mind, if I can get out one day, I can call at the Poundland shop to try and get some of their cheapos.
Time to get the Ablutionalisationing done now. The session did not go too well… (Understatement time!)
It was SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) who made the first attack. (I pictured her success here on the left) I had to admire her cunning, it was the only shake she gave me in the wet room, and her timing, just as I was about to pull the old razor down my cheek, was perfection. If I’ve got to have ailments, it’s a comfort to know they will keep me on my toes, although I got caught out well with this five-second-shudder! Globdangnations!
An absolute cracker of a toe-stubbing in the shower against the chair. And nearly, but not after-all, toppled over when I hit the doorframe coming out. Not even any bruises came up, a bit of a powder-puff effort.
Got many bags of waste sorted out, onto the three-wheeled-walker guide.
Took them in a box to the waste-chute room, without any incidents or damage. Slight-Smug-Mode adopted!
I popped down to Jenny’s with some treats the three of them for the weekend, and back up to the flat. Then I made a brew of the beloved Glengettie tea.
Made a start on prepping Josies ~Sunday lunch. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters played up, I wasn’t far off of cutting myself on the opener blade, but managed just to let it fall, and nae bother. No opening of the Tuna tins after that, just in case. So I got the battered cod sticks and smoked haddock filled fish cake, and got them in the oven cooking for her. She likes the tuna as well, but too risky as Nicodemus is at the moment, I nearly cut myself slicing the tomatoes, but luckily it was only the fingernail that was sliced. Phew! Risky work this cooking today, Hehe!
I got Josie’s dinner finished off and delivered it to her door, a little late today, 12:10hrs.
I had a bit of a nasty turn as I pressed the bells on the door. Dizzy Dennis, Head-Spinning Spiros, and Balance-Loss Lesley. I wasn’t completely with it by the time Josie answered the door. I think I was only there a couple of minutes, but many blanks in the memory box of what we spoke of.
As I was, for some reason struggling to get in through the doorway, it was as if someone had put the lights back on in my head; My balance returned, Dizzy Dennis disappeared, leaving me a little puzzled as to what had just happened? Looking back at the day, it’d been an odd-one in many ways. Hey-Ho! All fine now.
But I must try to resist going into these stupid ‘Disaster-encouraging’, misleading, Smug-Modes! It only makes the guaranteed cock-up, mistake, error, loss-of, picklement-coping, Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpa, or incoming bad news, far worse to cope with ulteriorly.
I gave-in to, defeated by the sudden wave of Thought-Storms, and turned off the computer. Then opened the can of Churchills 5% beef Spicy Chilli-con-Carne, and added the remaining left-over peas from Josies’ nosh to the mix, and added a little gravy as it warmed up.
As it heated, I did some half-hearted, Stroke Recovery exercises, (Feeling guilty for not doing these more often), hoping this would help bring me into a more relaxed and contented mode. I was seemingly doing well with them… until Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, landing luckily on the plastic waste bins.
This put an instant end to any ideas of work-outs.
Getting back up was horrendously difficult, and I was close to having to press the wristlet alarm. But, somehow, I managed to crawl on all fours to Metal Mickey, and used him and the worktop to regain my stance. The mess I’d made of the waste bins was of no concern to me at that time, I was well miffed!
I got the part-baked baguette in the oven, and out some Phoirpain gel on the knees and bruises while it cooked. Took the evening medications, then got the meal served up.
This ‘Spicy’ Churchills Chilli-con-Carne, was the mildest I’ve ever tried, so much so, that I added and stirred in some chilli powder to the mix? If I can ever get to town again, I hope that the Poundland shop will have some of these in stick, or even stock.
I got the fodder consumed in its entirity, to satiety, and settled in search of sleep.
But, Sweet Morpheus was not playing fair, and the exasperating Thought Storms invaded again. Crigglebogsnot!
Finally, I drifted off. Only to be woken by I know not what, two hours later!
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit!
01:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I wrenched my wonderfully-fit, firm, fat-free, furuncleless, amazingly muscled, massively-genitally-gifted body from the brand new, recliner, and singing-out-loud, ♫ Oh what a beautiful morning ♫, 
I thought I’d start today’s I.T. with a whopping great long series of terminological inexactitudes, cause I was in a decent frame of mind for a change. Knowing that after all the hassle, help from Matron Jackie, and panicking yesterday, I knew I’d got some Bisopropol (Beta-Blocker) tablets to take this morning. So I felt the urge to share my temporary satisfaction/sanity mode, with you, to raise a laugh. Hahaha!
I exited the wet-room, uninjured, and poddled to the kitchenette. Got the kettle filled, and started the Health Checks. First the temperature, and look at it! Much higher, and I think within range too! Swank-Mode-Adopted! 
The old Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer gave forth more heartening figures. The SYS was down to 163. I increased my Smug-Mode to DefCon-3! Hahaha! 
Then went to make a brew. Unaccountably, I decided to have a mug of the healthier, well, better for bladder and diabetes, so they tell me. Decaffeinated Morrison’s tea. But it was a disaster. Weak, insipid rubbish! I might as well have had just a drink of warm, water, it was terrible! 
that tea was horrible too! But was only just, barely passable… Eurgh! Still, I drank some of it, to take the medications with. The new trial Cephalexin, anti-bacterial infection capsule, instead of the Amoxicillin was taken for the first time with the regular medications. Phorpain gel applied to the knees, to counter Arthur Itis and PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), Sounds all knowledgable, don’t it, Hahaha! I’ll have a go at the other areas when I get the ablutions done. 
I had two tries at getting a decent shot of the view, as the fog came down outside. The first one was in the ‘Night Landscape’ setting: the second in Aperture Priority. Neither looked anything like what my eyes were seeing. Tsk!
Reluctantly I made an order for Sainsbury delivery. Unfortunate that, because after the last order, with its stupid substitutes, overcharging, and damaged good, I thought I’d never use them again. But I cannot get any pickled eggs (Apart from Amazon, but they charge even more than Sainsbury’s, over a quid more than JS do, for jars of just five eggs. Mind you, if I buy a jar of approx., guessing by the photo, they are sold by weight (2.25kg), about 25 eggs, was only £25!!! No point though, it would not fit in the fridge. 
Aha, the fog is turning into a mist now.
The mist is lingering somewhat this morning. And I am wee-weeing well, but only little teeny-weening jobs. Haha! 
I’d taken the bread thins out of the freezer earlier, and they were ready to be used with rather hotter than a planned bowl of Chilli dinner. A pot of lemon mousse and aa Cox’s Pippin apple added to the tray, and I got settled o watch a ‘New Tricks’ DVD while eating the fodder on my knee. Luxury! 
01:05hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, coughed a bit, and the rumblings from within the depths of the stomach’s innards started to churn, and rumble, I’m not even sure, but I think I heard the activity as well! 
Then used the Boot’s sphygmomanometer, the SYS 158 was lower than yesterday, DIA the same, and the Pulse was a smidge higher at 90. 
mashed, I took shots of the view from the unwanted, disliked, impossible to get at for cleaning, thick-framed, light & view-blocking windows. The fog was thick, no stars or moon to be seen, and only the nearest street lights had filtered through.
I got the step-ladder (Very nervously) and leant out of the window to take a shot of Chestnut Walk and car parking below. The fog even obscured the view from the 12th-floor flat, so thick it was. I made a very cautious stepping down from the steps. I put them away, almost feeling a modicum of pride in my getting the photographing done without any injuries or Accifauxps… Taking the ladder back in the front room, I misjudged the distance again and banged into the stack plastic drawers.
The gear I had on top, tumbled down on top me on its way to the floor! (Apart from the shock, I was fortunate [Yes, me!] in as much as everything that fell off was light, and didn’t make too much noise [I hope]). Also, this meant that I could retrieve everything with the long picker-upperer, and not need to get down on all-fours, so it wasn’t that bad. I got the unused dirty-needle box, the fungal-growth inhibitor (sound posh dunnit?), Phorpain gels and last medication pod retrieved without any hassle. 
Being on the last weekly pod-pack, with only one evening dose of tablets in it, meant a lot of noise was saved. A shame I couldn’t get through to Deana yesterday afternoon, it would have been nice to know if the Chemist was going to deliver the monthly medications or not. If they don’t come today, I’ll be in a pickle. 
The tooth that the dentist told me not to worry about gave me some pain as I touched it with the brush, Huh! 
Housing Patch Manager/ Catwalk Model, Angela Gould. Maybe the Doctor. Or Matron Jackie, to see if they know of any other supplier who might be reliable and less life-threatening to use than Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, are? I need help, no 
doubt.
Not that it bothered me at all. After ten minutes, I was buttering the baguette and serving up what turned out to be a reet-treat of a brekkers—much savoured.
After an hour or so, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea. And the sunshine seemed to be trying to get through the clouds, so I got the Canon camera and snapped this photo from the thick-framed, impossible to get at for cleaning, unwanted, letting rain in, light and view-blocking kitchen window.
Back to CorelDrawing, hello, I just heard a clunk? Mail perhaps? I’ll investigate… 
I packed up computerisationing, to weary and mentally worn out over the prescription problem again. No desire for any meal, I got down to watch some TV with subtitles so I could hear the intercom, mobile or door chimes. As I got settled and opened a packet of Frazzles, the door chime burst forth. I struggled out of the recliner and onto my feet, knocking some things over as I did so (Fancy that!) In walked warden Deana. As we were talking, she heard the Alarm Alert thingy talking. I couldn’t hear it. 
I got the bag onto the server trolley and decided to have a check through the contents. 
to the monthly prescriptions, but no such luck. I began to get down again, knowing that mission impossible will start all over again, and I’ll end up having to fetch them from Carrington. Flobbergaulingness! 
He was a little monkey, that Guy Fawkes!
The others were of the Chilli-Con-Carni evening meal I had, then the and well enjoyed evening meal. I added some passata, mil chilli seasoning, bags of potatoes and some Balsamic vinegar to the mix. 
But things improved once I was on level ground. In fact, it sloped a bit, and my scrawny, Clopidogrel pot-marked, short little legs got a belt on then, and no breathing problems. 
found myself at the bottom and turning left along Mansfield Road.
She gave me paperwork to hand to the receptionist when I pay her. I thanked her and wobbled to the reception desk.No receipt for the money spent, mind?
I made my way to the Ozan Continental Food store. Where I lost it completely with all that food around me, and got carried away without a care in the world about whether I needed the stuff or just fancied it! I came across the Krakus canned Boczek and bought a tin, the none of Golonkowa, erm, then a Lopatka and Moussaka… a can of Monalisa Foul Mecames, a can of sausage and beans and Roasted fresh Meat Loaf. I must curtail my fondness of food foraging!
♫ Oh, the good life, full of food seems to be the ideal,
I strode up Mansfield Road and right onto, Winchester Street to await a bus up the hill back home. Thinking, well dreaming, of little other than the meatloaf I’d bought, and the butter to go on the sourdough bread batch, and tomatoes… 
The pipping of the car horns brought me out of my foodstuffs-reverie. A dirty astonishing massive lorry was trying to turn around on Winchester Street to make a delivery perhaps, or had he seen how steep the road was and had a lot of weight one? I know about having a lot of weight on, you know!
The bus driveress, handed me a leaflet to read, about a service where we can travel for half-fare and get picked up from the flats, well that’s worth looking into. 
number: 0115 960 5453, to make sure they are not going to let me down with the medications again. 
checking them out. 
kfully, the computer is currently accepting and recognising the SD card reader.
Got the meal prepared. I opened the meatloaf, and got it slices, and tried a nibble, in case I was not too fond of it. The vegetables were chunky, the garlic and chilli in the meat were strongish (for my tastes), but I quite liked it all the same. 
I got the TV on to accompany me while I ate the fodder, and as I noted a Kitchen Nightmare was coming up soon, so as I finished the food, I went and got the washing up done. 
00:20hrs: I woke, wanting the standard, as is to be expected nowadays, wee-wee. Extracting my scarily-flobby, Brobdingnagian-sized, stomached-body from the warmth of the second-hand, pre-owned, £300, c1968, recliner, was a little more difficult this morning. I had a visit from Arthur Itis and PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain) at the same time. Which caused some difficulty in gaining my balance, not to mention the agony… oh, I did mention it! Hehehe! 
Once I started hobbling to the wet room, things eased off a smidge, although I did clout my elbow against the door, it was only a trivial, half-hearted affair. Nae bothers, no bruises, no bleeding at all. Nothing, to a brave-hero type, and stalwart like wot I am. Ahem! 
I trod (bare-footed of course, it had to be, didn’t it) on what belt like t tin-tack or ball-bearing! By Gawd, it made me smart, wince and mutter an oath silently! 
mental wreck? But, maybe not. 
cracking session! Quick, only discomfort, no real pain at all! Not a sign of any bleeding, and to top up the miracle, no mess! 
I rang off and then, I thought I’d ring Deana, about ringing the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, to see if they are going to let me down again and leave me without any medications. But, the landline was dead! Recorded messages kept coming and repeating from Alarm Alert box “Your telephone is disconnected”… Oh, dearie me! 
I got some black bags made up and took them to the waste chute. THen went down in te elevator to go and see Deana.
weariness came over me. I must remember the Dentist in the morning. I’ll leave a note for myself; I’ll do it now! Done!
Then made another effort of the end car park. That wasn’t so good either, Tsk! 
Found some bits relating to the Coronavirus figures, not that I understood them all. Getting awfully tired and beginning to lose my concentration, now! 
, but I’ll need a new waste bin now.
00:05hrs: I stirred in need of a wee-wee. (And gratefulness at not being woken up for any wees, was present, and sincere). 
I took the bucket to the wet room for cleaning and sanitising, and needed another wee whilst doing this; I used the WC. I washed the hands and antisepticated the touch areas, and off to the kitchenette to get the kettle on. 
I turned on the kettle and tackled the Health Checks first. The old still working Boot’s BP hemadynamometer gave me a pleasant surprise, the SYS was down again, to 151. I was getting a feeling that things might not go so bad today – why? I’ve no idea! 
I made the brew, took the medications, and got the computer going to download any photos first. I found two pictures that I could not recall taking last night. This one of the evening meal, shame I can’t recall much making it or even less of eating it. 
And the second one is even more of a mystery to me. When I took it, I’ve no idea, but it was on the SD card following the dish of fodder. It looks like it’s belting down with rain outside, and the light was not on in the kitchen. Note that this information and Sherlock Holmesianess helped me to work out why or when I took the picture. 
Then I spent many hours making up a template, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) was in good form, making progress very difficult, and she was with me for ages! Humph! 
Still, these deadly-designed windows don’t bother me at all. Oh, no!
I came across this picture on Facebook; I thought it was worth a smile, so put it in.
Made one graphic on Corel
I washed the things and had washed a zip-up jacket. With my not having a shower and wearing this most of the day, it had to be done, and I added some disinfectant to the sink while I got the Ablutions tended to, to give it a real freshening-up!
– 
The plates and pins were looking far too pale and bloodless for my liking! 
The Arthur Itis and Crtilidge Kathy Knees had transformed themselves once again, shape and lump-wise. 
I got dressed, and hand washed the zip-up jumper, I used the fabric softener and some Lavender-orange Dettol disinfectant in the final hand rinse.
Minutes later the rain stopped altogether and the sun. I got the paperwork out to start sorting through, and, ‘
inside for me. I thanked him and slipped him a can of G &T. 
alarm activations. I carried the carriers carefully into the kitchenette and set about sorting them out. No list of items was left again to check them off against. 
nosh. 
Here’s hoping they get here in time.
Not an easy task getting an order in for Morrisons today. 
So, I did get on the Morrison site, add a delivery slot for the 10th November, 13:00 > 14:00hrs was obtained. They had no Frazzles, no Surami sticks and no Marmite cheese! Still, I got Salt & Vinegar crisps, Marmite Crisps, and Squid Vinegar along with much more stuff, like Milk Roll and Bread thins. Of course, that is if they arrive? 
Got the meal out of the oven, the cheese on top was burnt, just enough, to suit me, lovely!
The swift envelopment of Sweet Morpheous was unexpected and so very welcome. The landline burst forth flashing away, as I struggled out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, rickey, none-working recliner, I thought it might be the Warfarin Clinic with the results and new dosages for me. I was happily wrong! Happy because it was Jenny ringing me, I always enjoy that, even when she tells me off about something. Hahaha! We had a natter and laugh, not that everything lodged into my grey-cell-box, and we said our farewells. 
01:45hrs: I woke, wrestled out of the recliner, and wobbled worryingly-wearily, (I’d had a good four-hours kip?) and without Metal-Mickey, to the wet room. 
I opened the window to take this rather pitiful photo of the morning sky. The wind and rain blew in, and my being naked at the time, it didn’t half make me jump as my overweight, adipose, avoirdupois, fat, fleshy, gross, paunchy, plump, ponderously-portly pot-bellied midriff got cold and wet!
Then made the brew of Glengettie tea, and started doing the Health Checks. Gladly, the ear-thermometer is working still, after Matron Julie told me not to use the pod covers, and offered forth a reading of 35.1°c, a lot better.
The Boot’s BP machine (also working again?) showed th
As I was putting things away, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrives, so off to the wet room. A much easier evacuation than yesterday’s were. I took a snap of the foot and leg, the ChilliCon-Carne burn came out in it looking bad, but it wasn’t at all, the only pain was if I touched it? And the colour was a little weird to me. When I have the shower, later on, I bet it fades as the colouring from the chilli is washed away. Hehehe! (Sherlock Holmesian Mode Adopted! 
I got o the computer, and downloaded the photographs from yesterday and this morning. I came across this one on the right, not the foggiest idea how I managed to take it? Plainly, it was taken in the kitchen, cause of the flooring and waste bins. But when and why, remains one of the great mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas and the Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me! I just thought I’d mention it. 
00:45hrs: I woke, feeling somewhat cold and in need of a wee-wee. (There’s a surprise, Hahaha!) I dismounted the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, with relative ease this morning, too. Grabbed Metal Mickey (The four-pronged walking stick) and over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) for an SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wee. 
Washed, and decided not to do the Health Checks or medication-taking until later. I opted to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and get on with updating the Saturday blog. As I was making the mug of Punjana, I had a visit from an ailment that has been so good to me lately, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and she was persistent, and violent with it this morning. This got the memory-box kicked into gear; I seem to remember her waking me up a few times overnight. I hope it’s not a bad sign. 
As I returned to the computer, I managed to hit my right shoulder against the door frame, and my resistentialism came to the fore, as to the frame I swore! Hehehe! I pressed on, and got the updating of the Saturday blog completed, despite Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS trying to interrupt me. Humph! Smug-Mode-Engaged! 
I made a late breakfast of sorts. Surami sticks, a bag of salt & vinegar crisps and oven-warmed part-baked brown baguette; sliced it, and generously dolloped some Marmite in it. Matron Jackie would be proud of me trying to have breakfasts. Or not!
As I made my way to the wet-room, I noticed the Health Check things lying untouched on the flat clothes airer. 
soaking in the sink bowl.
I think I’ve mastered it now. 
awaiting rescue from days ago, and the metal leg on the seat raiser. Hey-ho, not to fret! 
Then I got dressed and put the two hats on the stand-up airer, with the towel. Then I washed, rung and hung the jammies and shirt, and put them on hangers above the kitchen sink to drip-dry. 
bother at that moment. 
treat was smoked haddock, a smoked haddock fish ball (cake) as well, with the usual trimmings, oh some baby carrots for a change. 
After much faffing about, guesswork and effort, I got the rescued Chilli-Con-Carne served up.
Boy, it was one of the tastiest nosh’s I’ve ever had! A Flavour Rating of 9/10 for this one! Although, obviously, there will have to be repercussion from Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Brian’s Bowels, and possibly other areas? 
00:00hrs: There was no clinomania when I stirred into imitation life at midnight.
I had a good wash and did a bit of medicationalisationing (Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been leaking a little). Then had a go at the Health Checks. I got the equipment out and used both of the thermometers to see what the difference would be this morning.
I checked the done-wrung and hung washing from yesterday, and moved both of the zip-up jumpers over the kitchen heater on the curtain rail, to dry betterer. I checked first that there was no chance of any drips to fall on the electrics, so it’s safe. 
Then I set about computerisationing. But this blast of concentrating was a marathon session, three hours or more. I was starting with the photographs from yesterday getting sorted. I’d got a headache by the time the pictures were all sorted, and got in the WordPress gallery. 
Back on the computer, and guess what? Yes! Mr $19m a year plus expenses earner, boss of Liberty-Global who owns Virgin Internet Media, must be laughing and cackling when he finds out! 
I checked the email when Fries farce of an internet service came back on. Just as a phone came in, it was Sister Jane and Pete, telling me they had taken some photographs of Deana from the BBC1 news, and sen them via email. Bless ’em! 
I went to make a brew of Extra Strone Black Assam tea, notices that the rain was pelting down and the wind was getting so strong now. The sun came out later. I had to look to see if a rainbow had appeared, but could not see any. 
I then had a look at the Your Area (postcode) E-newsletter, to get updates on the Coronavirus and hopefully find some photos of Winwood Heights.No luck with Winwood pictures. Ther only things I could find about Nottingham Coronavirus figure on the right here.
I went to check on the meal, well, mushrooms and potatoes cooking. 
The weather had snapped back to the sun shining! The wind remains high and noisy, mind you.
So tired now, well gone my usual head-down time, but the fodder needs preparing, so off to the kitchen I poddled to do so.
01:00hrs: Got up, wee-wee, wash, cuppa tea, Throne (Messy, but quick and mot so painful)
Got the Health Checks done. Bottled the urine samples ready for the hospital and doctors. 
SisterJane rang. Pete was feeling a little better, thank heavens. Anf, Jane’s eye still had no vision. We are a set! 
Got the first sample, and it was coloured like level 5-6. Which was much better now, got it in the three-wheeler walker guide bag, so as not to forget it! 
Ablutionalisationing is almost a blur, so much did I rush, and with my mind on so many things at the same time. 
Jane rang back, and they will try to get some photos if Deana comes back on the 
BBC, for me. Bless em! That was good of them. I hope she can get some.
I got some breakfast. Marmite bread thins, potatoes from last night, and Frazzles with a mug of Glengettie tea! 
hung. Only one Zip-up jacket, and left it drip-dry at its leisure, on a coathanger above the kitchen sink. 
I got the trolley, with the nibble-treats for the Hospital and Surgery staff, and set out, feeling apprehensive, and not knowing why I felt that way. 
The hobble down Winchester Street was a hard, nervous-making experience. I’d forgot about the brakes being useless on the three-wheeler, and had to take my time and extra care not to topple it over. I stayed on the right-hand side pavement going down, to avoid having to walk in the road again to get 
by, for I had spotted a lorry in the distance parked on the pavement, Swine! 
I walked up the Mansfield Road hill and stopped to check on the timing. 
though it was a bit bleak at times. 
(Well, they probably considered me an important, powerful, dynamic, wealthy patient, who was due the best care and not to be kept waiting… A Smug-Mode of ginormous proportions came over me) Hehehe! 
I caught the bus, intending to stay on it into Carrington, and the Doctor’s surgery. Good planning, or what? On the way out, I walked to the Stroke Ward I was in, to leave them some nibbles and treats in thanks. 
I set of at a steady-hobble, no need to overdo it, still bags of time to get there punctually. Sherwood 
Sherlock Holmisianism moment, there) Hehehe! 
I was weary but happy enough as I wobbled along Mansfield Road with the trolley, up and over the hill. (Travailing with the well-filled heavy trolley, which will be fun getting onto and off of the bus when I get to Sherwood, Tsk!) 
As I was getting to Spondon Street, another ignorant, nasty, anti-social, objectional, offensive, law-breaking, seditious, thoughtless, inconsiderate, mannerless, yob, scumbag of a Pavement Cyclist belted by me, making my jump, he was so close! Grrr! 
I paid and heaved my body and trolley up to the bus stop. The distant skies did not bode well at all. 
I took a photo to the left, down the hill before the number 40 bus arrived. The driver getting a smidge annoyed as I struggled to get on the bus, and then to get sat down where I could hold onto the trolley. But it couldn’t be helped. Sorry, driver! 
As I got into the kitchen with the purchases from Lidl and Wilko, I spotted what looked like a fire in the far distance. 
I’d planned on the bus, earlier. The Potato Rosti was a must-have, even though I left some new pots cooking in the crock-pot. I could taste it before I’d got it in the oven. Took some grapes, an apple, tomatoes and washed them, for slipping on the plate. 
I was happily amidst feasting, and the door-chimes rang out. I put the food tray on the chair, and fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, 
rickety recliner, and off to investigate who my caller was.
I put the tom’s in the fridge, and got my ponderously pot-bellied, portly-paunch placed back onto the recliner; grabbed the tray of food, got my legs up on the chair, and was just about to restart noshing it, and the Landline burst forth and flashed! 
I washed the pots and took a snap of the threatening skies.