Cool TFZers, at the Cool-It-Cabin
Wednesday 19th August 2020
Bulgarian: Сряда, 19 август 2020 г.
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! Cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. Got the kettle on and had to make back for the wet room smartly, as the sudden bubbling, brewing, and rumbling from the innards kicked off.
Oh, dear, what a session. Pure pain, lots of blood, but at least it wasn’t messy. Had a go at the crossword-book while waiting for the movement to restart itself, it stopped part-way again! The cistern did not clear the evacuated product and needed assistance from a few jugs of water manually deposited in the Porcelain Throne, and four, I say, four, flushes, and still there were bits of TP not cleared! It’s a challenge these days, going to the toilet!
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.
Did some thought-graphics, and made a template up. Then got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, and most pleasingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was only giving me short bursts this morning. And with the absence of Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun as well, I got the updating done in good time. Got it posted off to WordPress, emailed the link, and answered a comment on WP.
I celebrated with another mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took this picture on the right, then went on the WordPress Reader section.
With the beautiful, nae, voluptuous vampire nurse due, and a possible delivery from Amazon (sleeves of long-life milk – I live well!), I’d better get the ablutions tackled early. Knowing my luck, because I’ve remembered to do this, they will all come late, I suppose. (My confidence, élan, positivism, and decisiveness are at an all-time low, you know! Hey-Ho!) Back in a bit…
I’m back now. And can report a much betterer session today! No shower, too early in the day for that with the noise it makes.
The feet were looking almost normal when I started and signs of bruising from the toe-stubbing. The teeth were 
cleaned without any hassle or bother.
The shaving was the problem area, and at the same time, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked in! The result was two neck cuts, a chin nick, and a hard to stop bleeding nip behind the ear hole. I can’t understand why hairs grow behind the ear-holes so much, and none on the head!
The medicationalisationing went even smoother. Mind you, Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding.
I got the unshakeable, ineffaceable feeling that today was going to be full of such strangenesses. Aye, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; To scare the bejesus out of, annoy, unnerve, and put the wind up the old energumenist, Inchcock. Yes, they were on their way! My EQ is rarely wrong.
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 had a little natter with Robert, and then made my way back to the Woodthorpe Court lobby entrance, taking this rather natty Well, I like it) photograph before entering the building.
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.
Regretfully, then Peripheral Pete launched one of his involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler right leg dance routines, and I fell forward over the trolley-guide. I caught the Alarm button as I put my hand out to stop going all the way down.
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! The Schuplatter dance lasted only a few seconds, and apart from the Osteoarthritis in the little finger, or whatever it is, no injuries. * This reminded me, the Doctor in the stroke ward, said she’d arrange a visit for me with a rheumatologist. Still, with the flipping Coronavirus bother, it’ll have to wait, I suppose.
Come think of it, I might be confused over this, it could have been a Cardiologist, Nephrologist, Geriatric Phycologist, Vascular Phycologist, or even a Psychological Neurologist? Hahaha!
I got out of the elevator and got into the flat. As I was putting the three-wheeler in the corner of the mini-hallway – I got such a shock! The fire alarm in the flat, burst into life! Klaxon blaring, red light flashing –
Oh, heck! My head was about three feet away from the blaring Klaxon!
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!
Deana arrived at the flat. The gal was very relaxed and calm about things, which was more than I was, I had a sense that I had done something wrong, yet I knew that I hadn’t. Shortly, there were three fire-tenders on site!
Deana went out to greet the emergency services. A fireman appeared with Deana. The fireman wanted to know what precisely I had been doing. So I told him; I’d got back in the flat from taking the waste down to the rubbish bin, put the walker in the corner, and the fire alarm activated. He suggested I have a visit from the team to offer support on avoiding fires. Fair enough, I said, although I have never had a fire in my life.
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!
Then, Nurse Hristina arrived. Patiently 
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.
I began to update the blog again, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was the Fire Brigade; they will be calling on me tomorrow, around 14:30hrs.
I went back to updating this blog. Then, and guess what?
This crap service from Mr Fries makes me sick! But, I was warned of bother coming today, by my EQ!
I got the oven on and some battered fish cooking. I got the garden pea’s saucepan, on a low heat setting.
Internet back on, but deadly slow, now!
Then the door chimes rang out. I said it was going to be a busy day! Humph! It was milk sleeves arriving. I opened the door, and they were on the door frame outside. I got them opened and put some in the fridge. There was a good shelf life on them!
At last, something had gone right! Hurrah!
The fodder was about cooked, so I turned everything off, it was close to my regular head down-time anyway. I got the nosh served up. A jolly decent flavour-rating of 8/10 fish nosh. I washed the pots and got a bottle of spring water, and in the recliner, sleep searching.
There followed a series of botherations, that encapsulated Sweet Morpheus attempts, ideally;
: A landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed!
: Ten minutes later, a landline call: TheDoctors surgery with the results and new Warafrin INR doses: Tonight 2.5, then 2 nightly until Monday 24th August, the next Blood Test date. Scribbled details on the note pad. I got back in the c1968 recliner, well tired.
: Another landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” I said nothing when I picked up the handset, recorded talking in the background. Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed!
: Half-an-hour or so later, yet another landline call: “I’m from Visa, there has been a £4000 transaction on you… Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! I scribbled down notes on each call on the pad.
The Thought-Storms began, and I was so annoyed at these damned con-calls! The last time when I did some searching, the number was registered in London, a further search on the web, revealed those I had then, were from Nigeria and Albania.
It took me hours to get the mind free enough to almost nod off, and the landline burst forth and flashed again! I ignored it.
No chance of sleep now, I put on the TV and headphones.
– A tired, almost angry, frustrated and bewildered Inchcock, gave up and decided to get on the computer. The very moment I attempted to shuffle my short-plump, overweight podgy body from the £300, second-hand recliner… Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, and Colin Cramps joined in on my legs and feet!
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. 03:00hrs, I got up for a wee-wee, and stayed up!
Sleep? What’s that then?
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!
04:50hrs: When I woke up, I was in a mental-haze from last night’s mind and memory blanks. ‘Mental-haze’; that came out without considering it, yes, I reckon that’s about right wording to describe how it was, too! I lay a few minutes, pondering and worrying over things, but that is normal for me anyway.
Apart from a little bother from Arthur Itis, and the Clopidogrel spots and blemishes were apparently returning, the legs looked to be in fine condition. The sunshine filtering through the second-hand, charity shop-bought curtains with the tears and holes in them, gave an appearance of much more colour to the pins.
I cleaned and sanitised things and parts of my Charles Atlas like torso and body. Hehehe! 
Then, I hobbled limpingly and a smidge nervously, to the kitchenette and to get the Health Checks sorted out. The sphygmomanometerisationing results showed a jump in the SYS, a bit too high? I wonder if Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, are they the cause of this? Had they done as they agreed they would, and split the three similar tablets… (but I will call the unreliable lying scumballs, names). Then I would not be missing my Beta-blockers and getting worried about my ticker’s thick blood, heart attack, or another stroke! Also, not taking Furesomide and over-wee-weeing greatly, thus getting some sleep in, now!
Feeling a bit down about this, and self-critical in the extreme, I stewed inwardly at my stupidity. And went to get the ablutioning sorted. The mind-storms started, but somehow I almost ignored them? 
I took a snap of the plates, which came out just like they appeared in the camera viewer. The session went pretty well, mind you. A few dropsies, a couple of small nicks shaving, and just one decent-firm clout on the forehead on the grab bar, as I retrieved the dropped carbolic soap in the shower. 
Even the drying off and medicating went well! ! And the pins still looked good after the showering, drying, and medicating! 
I made up three small bags of waste, grabbed the four-pronged metal walking stick, and wobbled out into the flat’s foyer, feeling a smidge better in myself, less self-critical, but that’s not saying much, I can assure you.
Through the door and down the lift lobby to the waste chute room at the far end. Got the bags in without any faux pas, knocks, trips, or shakes! A weak, temporary Smug-Mode was adopted!
and mentioned, “You’re getting a lot in this week, that’s two deliveries! Embarrassed, I think I said: ‘Yes, getting greedy in my old age!’ 
I made a start on Josie’s nosh prepping, and while I did so, I thought I could hear some dogs barking (I had the window open). So I took a decker outside. I could not see any doggies, though. Perhaps they had gone out of view into the mugger’s passage at the backs of the houses.
All the parking spaces below on Chestnut Walk were utilised (No red cars, Billski?). 
salad, garden peas, and extra-cheesy buttered potato mash. A Limoncello dessert, mint chocolates, and a can of plonk.
Saccades Sandra kicked off while I was computerisationing, I had to stop. Wished I’d done it earlier, got a cracking headache now. Tsk! 
Feeling more drained, tired, and fatigued.