I had little sleep, (effects of the Exonarin) up eight or so times for a wee-wee! Each one a waste of time, SWI (Sprinkly-Weak-Itchy) affair. Eventually, on the last needed while in the recliner, at 03:00hrs, Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding, so off to the wet room and wince-making job of cleaning and medicating. The uncut toenails and trying to walk without too much pain from them and the feet was not an easy task. I came close to having a tumble en route, thanks to Dizzy Dennis. Cragangles!
Still, all bleeding free, cleaned and medicated now. Eowskibungles!Hehehe!
I took a snap of the morning view, using the Aperture Priority option. Not brilliant but it’ll have to do.
I had to nip back to the wet room for yet another SWI (Sprinkly-Weak-Itchy) wee-wee. I got the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) disinfected and left it near the computer, in anticipation of the wee-wees continuing all day. Humph!
The knuckle on the right hand was more lumpy and just as tender today. But it was still keeping a safe social distance from the other fingers. Hehehe!
I tended to the medicationalisationing first.
With my ever-reliable Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, not having any 100mg Enoxaparin-fille hypos, I now have to stick in two by 40mg needles. (They do it on purpose you know, they hate me!)
Still, it will be interesting to see the different shapes of the scars, this time. More Art that the Tate Gallery is missing out on! It’s not as if I want a lot, £100 a photo? Hehehe!
The little yellow Contaminated Waste Box will soon be overfilled. I’ll have to mention this to whichever Dracula Nurse calls to take the extra blood sample, tomorrow. I must remember that tonight it is 2½ Warfarins, and one Enoxaparin injection, and must resist taking any extra Codeines for the toothache, the lady said in last night telephone call. I’ve forgotten why, but am sure she said this.
I got the Health Checks done. The sys is creeping up again.
The earhole body temperature came up as ‘Low’, but I wasn’t quick enough to catch the figure.
I took a snap of the pained old uncut, warped, gnarly, cringeworthy, discommodious, Howard-Hughes-like, tender, itchy, painful pinkies.
The thought of getting them cut and the ulcer bled. The inflamed, hard skin that effectuates fears of a return of the Tinea Pedis. I’m sure that many other residents must be in the same boat. Good luck to us all! Of course, if all these places I need access to being reopened; the hearing clinic, the opticians, the dentist, etc., will have one hell of a waiting list by then. So, I’m not getting my hopes up too much! (Ha! Me? Getting hopes up? It’s not natural!)
Toothache Thomas suddenly got worse for some reason. That cheered me up! And I can’t take any Codienes! Claptickleisations!
Made a start on yesterday’s blog updating. This cost me a lot of time and frustrations. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was in a decent enough mood, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept failing and working. This delayed things and got me in a tizzy.
I barely got the job done in time for the Ablutions to be tackled, so I would be available for the Iceland delivery.
I checked the status of the kitchen first, to make sure I’d not left taps running, lights on, or the stove on, then set off for the wet room. The first one in ‘Auto’, the second in Aperture Priority. Much difference?
The Ablutionisationing went fair enough. A few dropsies. No Shower, too early. A nick or two when shaving, Toothache Thomas raging, when I cleaned the teggies. The worst thing was as I was getting dressed, I lost my balance getting the PPs on, and went over, hitting the Sock-Glide, knocking it off of the shower stool, and continued to the floor, with the damned glide following me down!
No, I apologise, I was wrong about this being the worst bit – getting back up after was the hardest and most painful. Gragnackles! I put some Phorpain on the new bruises that I could reach, made a brew to let go cool before drinking, and got on with the writing of this blog.
The intercom chimed and flashed. It was Iceland’s driver-delivery. The chap arrived and dropped the carriers through the door for me. Well, he put then in the middle of the door runner for me. I had a job holding open the door to move them inside. The bloke looked a little frazzled and mentioned how busy he was. So I thanked him and slipped him a can of G&T.
I took the bags through to the kitchen for sorting out. Knocking the cloth airing over as I misjudged the gap available. (You find this easier and easier to do this when you’ve got Peripheral Neuropathy Tsk!)
I got the fridge food sorted first. Beetroot salad, mushrooms, red onions, skinless sausages, pork & pickle min pies, brown bread thins, new potatoes, and potato salad. Got them into the fridge, just enough room.
Then the freezer products. I’d got some Special Price smoked Haddock fillets, and Fish in batter with salt & vinegar flavouring. But the offer meant me having to buy three if each. I did so in the knowledge that a certain lady would make use of a pack of each. This worked out lovely, I’d just got room for the other frozen stuff to fit in. I phoned the lady to tell her I was coming down with the fodder for her attentions. And anything she wanted to do with them as alright with me. I know the food will be made good use of.
I took them, and what a performance it was getting down as well! With tenants not supposed to use the left Contractor dedicated cage (understandably so), but the right cage was stuck on floor 13 and not moving. Repeatedly the left cage arrived, and I kept pressing a button and getting out, in hopes that the right side cage will be freed. In the end, I had to get in it!
I dropped the bag off and returned to the lifts. The right one still on floor 13! In the end, I had to use the naughty left one again. Horrible guilty feeling!
I got back to the apartment eventually. Haha! I’d also ordered some Peri-Peri salt, I’ve never had it before. As I put the cupboard goods away, I stuck my finger in the pot of salt, to try the taste of it. Blimey, it was hot!
I got back to doing this post. Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and had another wee-wee. Washed the dandies, and got the meal prepped. I got the diced beef in the slow-cooker, adding some gravy granules and veg pot seasoning. Later I added some sliced red onions, garden peas, potatoes and
I searched Amazon for some cheaper Dettol Lavender disinfectant and Zoflora lemon. The one’s I searched for last week were all too expensive.
I found these on the right, all at a much better price than earlier. The Dettol worked out a little below £3 each for 6 of them. The lemon disinfectant, a 5l size was £16, and the Hoisin sauce also at £3 a bottle. So I ordered one of each. They should be arriving on Friday they tell me.
I injected the last of the 100ml ExonaparinsChecked on the progress of the crockpot stew.
The food was almost ready now. A quick wee-wee (surprising, I know, Haha!), then I’ll get the nosh prepped! Went to wash my hands, and when I got back to the kitchen, I spotted this smoke coming from the Basford area.
The smoke looked to be clean and white, so hopefully, it was not a house fire. Fingers crossed!
I turned my attention to getting the fodder sorted out, and the landline rang and flashed. It was a nurse from the Phlebotomy Vampire Crew (Haha!). She told me she would be calling in the morning to take another INR blood test. I thanked her and made a note on the calendar.
Back to the preparing of the meal, to satisfy my phagomania.
This stew came out better than I expected it to. I’ve got another pack of the diced beef to have tomorrow, but I won’t be putting any of the Peri-Peri salt in it.
Tasty, flavoursome and filling. With a couple of little Viennese biscuits and a pot of lemon mousse to follow. Taste-Worthiness- Rating: 8.0/10.
Took the evening medications. And settled to watch a ‘Boon’ DVD. Ah, nostalgia! I turned off the DVD player and TV when I started to nod off and wake again repeatedly.
I think I started to have a dream about my being chased in an underground tunnel. Next thing I remember was the knees hitting the carpet when I dropped onto the floor from the recliner, clouting my poor right-hand little finger on the arm of the chair, right on the swollen knuckle? What-Who-When-Why-How?
I’m so glad there is no CCTV in the flat. Even I had to laugh at my antics to get back up into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, that has seemed to have ejected me? Clambering back like climbing a mountain, with a few slide-backs, and spreading about of the cushion and quilt. The farce took away all the pain that I should have felt but didn’t.
Another mystery 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, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?
As I sat there, calming myself down, I looked at the clock, but could not read it? Aha, where are my spectacles?
I spied them on the carpet a few feet away from where my muscular, highly tuned, healthy, Adonis-like, young, fit, desirable to women, six-foot-plus, power-house of a body, had landed from the fall off of the chair. Hehehe!
Luckily, I had the picker-upperer laying on the next chair and utilised it to retrieve the spectacles. And they were not broken, although a scratch or two on the left lens was annoying me!
More good news, all the noctambulistic diving off of the recliner and the ensuing kerfuffling about, did not disturb my getting back to sleep! Wogigj. Mind you, the knees were giving me a bit of grief.
A lousy night! 02:30hrs: I fear last night was one of the worst kips for months. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley, she was the main perpetrator. It seemed every few minutes she was giving the right scapula some stick, often viciously. The shoulder and neck are aching so much at this moment. This had not happened nocturnally before?
As the need for a wee-wee came on, I glanced at the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), where I intended to make for, and realised I had a blank, or several blank periods last night. The bucket was too full to use, yet I cannot recall doing so at all last night, or can I? The mind was somewhat confused at this stage, and a hazy mist seemed to be lingering amongst my thoughts.
I got up, nippily too, onto my feet, to find that my balance was not right. A fleeting thought of my possibly having had another nocturnal stroke, was soon dismissed, as I managed to quickly correct my tumble back into the recliner, and preventing any painful clashes between Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the boils and the arm of the chair! I could not have done this if another stroke had been suffered. This cheered me up a tad. Well, a lot!
Off to the wet room for a wee-wee, no need for the seated Porcelain Throne activity. That concerned me a tad, the Macrogol may not be working. Shall I take another one or not? The mind was jumping about a bit now, changing from on worry to another concern repeatedly. The wee-wee was of the SCWP (Sprinkly-Cloudy-White-Painless) variety. Washed, and off to the kitchenette.
For some reason, I saw beauty in the views through the unwanted, thick-framed, light and view-blocking window; designed obviously by an ophthalmophobia-sufferer. I took some photographs while the kettle heated up. The Canon camera did not do the scenes justice. They looked incredibly eerie to the eye. Still, after looking at them on the blog, they are not so bad after all, just too small for details to show up. My bad! I’ve always wanted to use that phrase. Hehe!
Brewed the tea, let it cool down so as not to bother Toothache Thomas too much, while I did the Health Checks. Much betterer readings this morning. The earhole thermometer showed just ‘Low’.
I took the brew with me (in the left hand!) and made my way carefully to the computer.
Had I known then, the problems and difficulties I was going to face, I would not have bothered!
I got computer Cameron going, and opened CorelDraw to post, touch-up and to create some graphics for yesterdays blog updating.
Coreldraw refused to respond to many buttons and keyboard activations. I lost hours trying to get it right!
I turned everything off, after a battle to get CorelDraw to save my work already done, I had to give up and lose it! Grrr!
Restarted CorelDraw, but with no change in the faults! At least it let me save the changes I had not made?
Then it froze altogether! Crigglebogsnot!
I had to close it down by turning off the computer, things were looking bad now! Grobognangles!
I gave things a while to calm down, then rebooted the computer. Oh, dear!
I opened CorelDraw first. And hey-ho and yippee! It was working! I felt over-the-moon!
I opened Firefox, and then WordPress. Shit! The internet was down!
I gave it time to restart of its own accord. Fool!
Turned everything off at the box. Waited for five minutes. (Whistling to keep calm).
Got the internet turned back on, and still no action. Spit!
Pressed the reset button. Waited a few minutes, went for a wee-wee, which surprisingly turned out of the irritatingly durable, WSSULL (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Long-Lasting) mode!
When I returned, the internet was back on!
What a kerfuffle, foofaraw, hurry-scurry, fracas, hullabaloo and time-consuming start to the day! Unglefrogwogglings!
At long last, I could make a start on the blogging process. I was so irritated with things, Duodenal Donald joined in with Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley in annoying me, now! Grumph!
The Liberty-Global Virgin box was flashing a little worryingly, too!
I got making much-delayed progress finally with the updating of the Saturday blog. It was very pleasing when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Dizzy Dennis departed and have not yet returned. (Give them time, they’ll be back, Ha!)
Sent off the links.
Went to make a brew of tea, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room. Almost a pleasure after the last few days of concrete evacuations and crosswording while I waited. It was still painful, but far less so. And, this time, no bleeding either. Highly satisfactory! The Macrogol seems to be easing the situation. I’ll just take one later, I don’t want to get all blocked-up again.
I made the template and a start on this post. Slow work now, Saccades Sandra keeps having a go at me. Went on Facebooking for a while, can’t stay too long, the ablutions and Josie’s meal will need tending to soon.
Quick photo session now the day is brightening up. Very pretty and allowed me a few minutes of neophilia enjoyment.
As I went to put the computer to sleep (If only I could do the same with myself, Tsk!), I got an email from the Surgery. I went into investigation mode!
The message informed me about the Phorpain and Fenbid gels I use to counter Colin cramps and Arthur Itis:
Flammable gel. May form flammable vapour mixtures with air. Avoid all ignition sources. All potential sources of ignition (open flames, all types of smoking, pilot lights, furnaces, spark-producing switches and electrical equipment etc.) must be eliminated both in and near the work or rest area. Side effects of the gel: Shortness of breath. Unexplained wheezing. Blisters or a rash on the skin. Swelling of the face. Itching, redness or bruising of the skin. Digestive problems such as abdominal pain or indigestion, particularly in people with a history of stomach ulcers. Kidney problems. Allergic reactions: such as asthma attacks, narrowing of the airways (bronchospasm), swelling of the lips, throat and tongue (angioedema), itchy blistering rash or anaphylactic shock. Stop using Phorpain and Fenbid, and get immediate medical advice if you have an allergic reaction.
That was nice and encouraging to know.
Off to get the ablutions tended to: Another amazingly short on Dropsies, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops session!
Overall, (No shower again, too early for them on a Sunday), only about six dropsies in total!
Fair enough, the shaving was interrupted by Shoulder-Shuddering-Shiela, this brought up the razor cuts a smidge, to five.
I required three wee-wees during the wash-up. All trickly, painful jobs, but still no bleeding from Little Inchies fungal lesion!
The rear-end installed clump of furunculosis caused a lot of pain when I washed the area, and even more so when I had to apply the Germolid and hydrocortisone creams. Oh, boy, Yes!
The pins looked even thinner this morning. Am I withering away? I wish they’d take some from the stomach first. Hahaha! That is getting ridiculously massive!
When the dressing started, well, by the time it had been done, I’d gathered a couple of more little bruises to the arms and elbows, with losing my balance and hitting the edge of the door. But I didn’t go over! Smug-Mode-Installed!
I went to make another brew, and thought that the clouds were even more awesome now! Well, even prettier is a better word to use.
A quick bash on the WordPress reader, the Libert-Global Virgin Media internet threw a few wobblies, sticking, momentary breaks in service… I’m not sure why I mentioned that. It’s not as if it’s unusual. Huh!
Dizzy Dennis visited, and I was sure I was in for a bad session, the spinning head, warped vision and unsteady grasp on distances were all showing up. Two-minutes later, everything had cleared? A first that!
I got on with prepping Josie’s meal. I put extra Leicester cheese and butter in the cheesy potatoes but used instant mash with chives today. It came out smelling and looking good. I nibbled a forkful, and it passed my taste-check for Josie.
Had a go on the WordPress Reader, then back to make up the meal. Delivered it to Josie. She seemed happy with the look of it. Then back to the lonely flat, to prep my fodder.
I’d made a cock-up with the BBQ pork ribs. I really thought they were cook in the bag. Bit no, they had to go in the oven. So I got the pork ribs in the oven with some skinless sausages.
While they were cooking, I set the timer and left in close by so I might hear it in case I nodded off, and I’m glad I did.
Twenty minutes later, the timer woke me, and I got up from the c1968 recliner with ease, and proceeded to the kitchenette, walking straight into the door frame with my right shoulder! That pulled me up a bit sharpishly! Off course, within seconds Shoulder-Shuddering Shirley kicked in!
What a farce it was getting the meal sorted, plated and on the tray. I dropped bits of mess on the floor, in the oven, down my stomach, stabbed myself (well, it sounds more dramatic than, stuck the fork in the back of my hand, Hehe!), dropped a knife, spoom, spatula and sauce bottle!
I dropped and broke my last bottle of Balsamic vinegar, spilt water on me and the floor washing the saucepans. Things were going to pot here!
Eventually, I got semi-sorted, not comfortable with shoulder pain and shakes. But by then, the meal was disappointingly not very hot. But I wasn’t too bothered, and got down in the recliner and ingested it all. I imagine the spare ribs consisted of 80% bone, Tsk! But what meat there was, tasted delicious!
Somehow I got the pots washed, and part-way through doing them, thank heavens, and most surprisingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley stopped, just like that!
Feeling suddenly extra weary, I got settled down in £300, second-hand, c1968, recliner, with some cheese biscuits and a bottle of spring water… That was it, I was off into the blissful land of Sweet Morpheous!
I woke in need of a wee-wee, assuming it was early morning, and stayed up. I later discovered it was not yet midnight. Klutz!
02:30hrs: My first hodiernal thought on moving my legs as I stirred into mock-life, was: “Why after days of the knees being so kind to me, has Arthur Itis suddenly returned with a vengeance? Then I realised what a silly question this was.
I reached for the tube of Phorpain 20% that I keep expeditiously at the ready on the Ottoman for any bother with the knees or hands (Cramps or Arthur Itis). And massaged a dollop of it into both patellas areas. The hands, fingers and wrists got jealous at this I think, and they kicked of, so they were given the treatment as well.
No sooner had I done the embrocations, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, although not with any real urgency this time. So, I freed my laboriously, wobbly stomached body and skinny limbs from the c 1968, none-working recliner, and off into the kitchen, and made-up and took another dose of the Macrogol. Then to the wet room.
The evacuation started of its own accord but soon got stuck part-way again. Tsk! I grabbed the crossword book, and painfully waited for the pain-plus to start, when it began moving again. Eurgh, argh, and other antagonistic words were uttered, but things moved swiftly then. I think last nights double-dose of the laxative must have helped things along. But it was far from painless yet!
A good wash and wipe around, and off back to the kitchenette. Where I tended to the Health Checks. Starting with the usual sphygmomanometerisationing. The results looked good enough for me. The stick thermometer showed up as ‘Low’. I had another sachet of Macrogol, then made a brew of Glengettie Gold.
And took a couple of shots of the morning view. The first one on ‘P’ setting, but I had no idea what it stood for, but it came out in a different aspect-ratio, almost square? The other I did in ‘Auto’ setting, but it didn’t come out very well. But I don’t know if the Canon has a night setting, like the Nokia has, no, I mean Nikon has. That tells me on the viewer screen what it is set to when I change the settings.
I got on the computer and started jumping around from CorelDraw to the blog and back. I got myself a bit confused at times and forgot things I should have been doing. So I made myself concentrate on the updating of yesterday’s blog, and nothing else.
I went to make a mug of Extra-Strong Assam tea, and took a snap with the Canon, having changed the aspect on the settings, to 16:9. This is the resulting photo of the oh, so blue morning clouds. The wind was getting up, and just like yesterday, the damned ‘Hum’ got a lot louder. It must be terrible for anyone with normal hearing.
I got my pins up on the small swivel chair and gave the knees another dose of Phorpain Gelling. Arthur Itis is in a bad mood now! But other than the knees, the rest of the legs were looking in good condition suddenly. No Clopidogrel lumps and blotches at all. The veins seem to have mostly gone down from the surface? It’s all most confusing.
Posting his pools coupon before he won the £250,000. The next week, the Lottery!
Back to the updating, and pressed on until the blog was finished. Emailed the links, and had a message from Brother-in-Law, Pete. He’s not a born communicator, Hehe! It read: “Thanks Gerry, enjoyed that! (the funny advice for him) “Resting today after all the testing and trials yesterday; they even took my DNA!” I warned him he’ll be trouble now if they give it to the Police Database. Haha! So glad he’s coping with it so well. Great!
Mind you, the chemotherapy treatment he’s been warned will mean a good chance he will lose his hair. The thought of looking like me, he was not at all keen on! I can’t blame him either, Hahaha!
I went to get the ablutions sorted out, and a decent session it was, too!
The teeth cleaning went with only a couple of dropsies, and no cut!
You may not believe this, but the shaving did have a few dropsies, but No Cuts!
The getting dressed, well that might be better not being mentioned. Dropsies, knocking stuff off of the cabinet, Dizzy Dennis, and a tumble getting the PP’s on. Sadly, not the best part of the session!
Hey-ho! I’ve had plenty of worse wash-ups. At least my magnificent torso glistened! Hahaha!
Then the intercom chimed and lit, admitted the chap, and the Iceland man cometh to the door. He dropped the carriers in the doorway for me. I slipped him a can of G & T, he said thanks, and off he trotted. I got the bags through to the kitchen and noticed the rather large pack of Quavers. 24 packets! How had I bought that size?
I got the fresh stuff out first. Checked to see if they had like Morrisons did and added any free maggots or insects with them. But no! They had selected bruised apples though. I tried one of the red seedless, grapes. I’d not tried these before, Egyptian, but they were okay. The mushrooms didn’t have too much dirt one them either.
The fresh pork Shoulder steaks looked lean enough, but the label with the instructions was damaged. The BBQ ribs box was also in a right torn state. The fish strips that should have been frozen were well soft!
I got the pork into the crockpot there and them, when I realised how warm they were to the touch.
The antiperspirant spray felt so light, I wondered if there was any in it? I’m sure the kitchen towel rolls were even less filled than last week?
Have Morrisons and Iceland both got something against me? The Swine! Ah, well, enough food in to last for ages now.
I set about making up the waste bags and replacing new ones in all the bins. I got them on the three-wheeler walker guide and took them out the waste chute down to the waste bins.
I had a bit of an unfortunate incident, getting into the chute room. I let the door slip while holding it open to get the trolley in. (Strong closing spring). The toes got crushed between the trolly wheel and the closing door! Swear? Me? Gangleboggleisations!
I got the bags dropped down the chute, and returned, even more limpingly back to the apartment. Only to find I had missed taking two carriers with me to the chute! Swear? Me?
I gathered the carriers and took them to the waste room again. Bungle-Grumplewuncks! I just used the walking stick this time and, oh, so carefully made it there and back safely.
Getting late now. I concentrated of getting this blog started off, up to here.
Checked the pork and mushrooms, added some canned garden peas to the mushrooms, and went on the WordPress Reader section.
Rechecked the food cooking, then went on Facebooking.
Noshing preparation time! The pork shoulder slices didn’t look very appetising, but by-gum they tasted fine. The fries, peas and tomatoes were alright, too.
I tucked into it, and think I enjoyed them.
Most annoyingly, I had a blank-spell. I came round an hour or so later (I think), with the TV on? At the side of me was a tablet dish, that was empty, so I assumed I’d taken the evening medications. Then thought I’d better check with the pods. I got out of the recliner and found my balance was not good. Off to the kitchen, with the greatest of care.
I found the pots and saucepans had all been washed and dried, the evening tablet pod was empty, so I’d taken them anyway. I’d turned off the taps and cooker. And Shoulder- Shuddering-Shirley started energetically giving me what for.
I got back down in the recliner and must have got up three or four times. With concerns and worries over, had I turned the tap off in the wet room? Was the door left unlocked, etc.? There was no chance of any kip at this stage, the mind was buzzing with inconsequentialities. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley made sure that any sleep I got was only for a few minutes, as she regularly did her best to dislodge the glenohumeral joint.
0310hrs: I woke with a start, feeling a tad cold, and wondered why. (I’m still wondering now!) A wee-wee was needed, so I extracted my avoirdupois, fat, fleshy, gross, outsized-stomached body and gangly limbs from the recliner. Caught my balance, but for some reason, it took me a much longer time to do this morning? Dizzy Dennis wasn’t visiting me, yet. Mmm?
As I got in the wet room, I realised I’d had another decent sleep! Over five hours, and without a single interruption for any wee-weeing! Oh, Yes! The release was of the BOASA (Blasting Out-Stopping-Abruptly) mode. That’s more like it, at last, a none-sprinkly and no-pain evacuation! Yee-ha!
Could it be that I have turned the tide of my 77-year run of bad luck? The thought soon proved to be a futile, silly, false dream.Hahaha!
I hobbled to the kitchen, but my balance was not quite right. My EQ told me to take extra care this morning. Did I listen? Yes, of course!
The view through the hated and unliked new windows that let the rain in, and have thick light-view destroying frames, and I have to risk life & limb using the step ladders to reach to clean. Where was I? Oh, yes! The view, I thought it was reminiscent of Goose Fair, with the lights.
I carried out the Health Checks, all looked good to me on the BP sphygmomanometer. The body temperature showed as 32.2c. Took the medications. There was no need for Enoxaparin injections. Although with the INR being so low, these may have to return. I made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea.
I got the potatoes into the crock-pot on a low setting for having with the dinner later. Oh, dearie me! I noted that Morrison’s bag of spuds had some many rotten potatoes in it! Opening the bag and a pong came from them. I had to rinse them several times to get rid of the stink. Threw all of the dodgy ones away, dried the decent few left, and got them in the crockpot. I added some Fish Sauce, Squid brand. No squid in it, of course, just Anchovy 82%, Salt 15% and Sugar 3%. A delightfully tasty addition to the potatoes, especially when having battered fish strips, as I intend to.
I was taking the camera, in the right hand, but with the strap on the wrist. The mug of tea in the left limb (So I thought I was taking care!) And the balance went as I got near the fireplace, and over I went, to the right, of course, it’s always to the right since the stroke. The wall broke my tumble, I hit my elbow, scraped it along the wall, banged the camera heavily and the lens cap shot off. I knocked some stuff off of the mantlepiece. Spilt half of the tea down my left leg, swore a bit and then hit my forehead on the fire surround wood. Groggleknockers!
After I’d composed myself, finding the lens cap was a frustrating, time-consuming job. There is only one corner spot small enough for the cover to roll under and out of sight – sure enough, that’s where it ended up! Naturally, I had the devil of a job of getting back up after retrieving the article. A painful situation, too! Schluberdubersnarl!
Silver Lining Search Results: At least the camera wasn’t broken!
Had a wee-wee, this one was one of those that started off almost clear, changed to deep orange as it trickled out forever-more! No power with it.
As I was making a Thomsons Punjana replacement brew, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived! I wobbled gingerly and wearily to the wet room, half-expecting another loss of balance all the time, and using doors and walls to support myself en route. Nervous? Me? Hahaha! Yes!
What a Porcelain Throne session, that was! Solid as a rock! I merely got the crossword book out, and waited, with little enthusiasm for the movement to begin. Ten-minutes or so later, a part-way action, which lasted a few seconds. Then back to the awaiting the pain to arrive. I hung on in there, concentrating on the crossword.
Ages later, the movement ground its way worryingly slowly, agonistically out. I was bloodied and weary!
No word or words could do the relief felt afterwards, any justice! Perhaps, Ahahahargh! is the nearest suitable adjective!
A most definite indication that the Macrogol will be needed now. After mixing and taking the first pouch of the compound, the innards made a plea for another, judging by the sudden stabbing pains and deep gurgling movement coming from the bowels, I took another dose of the laxative. I just hope that things don’t do a reversal on me, now! Oh, dear, what have I done?
I got on with updating the Thursday blog. Got it finished and sent the link off. Then went on Facebooking for a while. (In between taking many varied modes of wee-wees, Haha!)
Then I went on WordPress reading. I enjoyed that.
Then, on to updating the funny ‘support-funny post’ for my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred, Brother-in-law Pete. Who’s today in the City Hospital, on a qualifying course, and hopefully, the new Chemotherapy treatment can start as well. I hope he can get a smile out of it, despite his worrying condition. Got it finished.
So tired mentally now. So I decided to get the Nosh preparationing done a little earlier than usual. Is that a word? Methinks not, so it’ll be prepared, then.
I took this shot blindly, it had to be unseeable, due to the thick-framed, letting rain in, unreachable to clean unless using the life-risking stop ladder, new kitchen window. Most probably designed by a young photographer-hating and gerontophobia suffering designer!
The meal was one of my betterer ones this time. Smug-Mode-Engaged! A flavour rating of 8.9/10 given.
Despite the best efforts of Morrison’s to piss me off; Short delivering the foil trays, sending mouldy potatoes, garden peas with insects and maggots in the pack, I managed to make a decent nosh. If they wish not to deliver to an enforced isolator, they only had to ask me?
But I blame the Coronavirus for these problems more than Morrisons. But, Morrisons used to be so much more reliable than any other of the suppliers, too. I have praised their efforts and care taken in the past. Sad, but even Iceland are more trustworthy nowadays.So sad! I may regret saying this in the morning, when I see what Iceland have done to my order?
Washed the pots, then myself, and as I got settled down to watch some TV, the presence of furunculosis problems was detected as the bum came into contact with the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner! What next! Getting to sleep, or even to concentrate on the telly, was being interrupted every time I moved, coughed or sneezed, the pain from the lower region’s boils even sting when I hiccuped! And getting out to use the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and even more painful was the getting back down again!
I suppose a ring cushion will be needed for future use. Amazon will be needed again. Tsk!
23:25hrs: No sleep at all, Sweet Morphious, denied me by being woken up repeatedly; callers, Toothache Thomas and Anne Gyna, all successful in ensuring I got no rest. Groggleknockers!
I decided to give up! I edged my colossally-stomached, wobbly-torsoed body and skinny-dangly legs, out of the £300, second-hand, not-working, c1968, rickety recliner. Off for a wee-wee.
Ah, things were better this time! A bit more force and less spraying. Still the green-grey colour, mind.
Off I plodded to the kitchenette, every step taken was an example of coping with pain. From the toes and feet! (A little sympathy prompting there, sorry about that!) The late-night view was difficult to photograph. I had four goes on different settings before I got a shot that was as close as dammit to what it looked like in the viewer. This one was with the Aperture Priority selected. The Night Panorama that I tried produced a black picture only?
I got the kettle on and did the first of the Health Checks.
The sphygmomanometer results were the best for ages! SYS 136, DIA 64, Pulse 80, and the body temperature was just showing up as low. (It does that, it goes from the reading to high or low, when I am insensate and not quick enough to get it out of my ear-hole to have a look, Hehe!) Ah, well!
I took the medications and made a mug of Glengettie Gold Tea. On the first sip of the brew, I started hiccuping. Two-hours later, when I got around to writing this, I was still hiccuping! I hope this did not bother Herbert above me, for they were loud and vicious disembogue’s, irritating, almost non-stop!
So annoying and frustrating! I tried the drinking of the luke-warm tea from the opposite side of the mug.
I shouldn’t have done that! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at the wrong time, and I dropped my mug and created a picklement for myself! Bugglesworthlessness!
On the light at the end of the tunnel search: The miracle of it hitting my left knee and depositing some hot tea, down the leg as mentioned above, then bouncing off of my knee, and straight into the waste bin, pleased me! Amazingly the mug didn’t break (that’s twice I’ve dropped it in the last three days), and the mess was minimal because of where it came to rest. So, the cleaning up was more straightforward, and the foul language was not so severe as it might have been! A smidge of good luck there methinks!
I cleared up the mess and went to make another mug of tea. I got the pork shoulder steaks, with new potatoes in the crockpot cooking. I added sea salt, Light Soy sauce, some pork gravy granules, and seasoning. (Too much methinks?) I’m not sure how old the gravy and seasoning is, but it still hadn’t dissolved two hours later? Have I viliorated my meal planning? Having a feeling that this is not going to have a happy ending, and my EQ backed me up.
The day is breaking now! I updated the Inchcocks Photos widget on the blog. Replaced with all Winwood Heights people now and then. I updated the Monday post. WordPress Reader. Next, on to the Facebooking.
The wee-wees had decreased. Anne Gyna had eased off. Toothache Thomas, the feet and toes continue as the main pain-donators. Haha!
Then, the Phlebotomy Nurse, Christina, let herself in the flat. She’d been pressed in by someone in the foyer. Didn’t half make me jump! Hahaha! A good job, I’d taken the wash and shave early, and had some clothes on! Gawd that would have made her jump more than her arrival made me! Pity, she was in a great rush again, that’s why she had to come so early. She still managed a bit of nattering while she took the blood, Bless her cotton socks ♥.
I felt a bit peckish, and I went to get some biscuits and made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. Dizzy Dennis kicked off while making the brew. Humph! Two hours later, I limpingly meandered off to get the Ablutions tended to.
Ablutionalisticalisationing Report:
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Much easier than yesterday. Not so messy, and far less painful! Only two dropsies.
Toothache Thomas made cleaning the teeth a grindingly, agonising job!
The shaving had a few clangers involved. Cuts were in fashion this morning. Several of them, but every one of them was tiny, yet bled a lot more than usual.
The Shaving dropsies just might have been a record. I lost count of the times the Jenny-supplied picker-upperer was used! Razors about six times if I recall rightly, the foam and the After-Shave bottle I used to stop the bleeding.
The medicationalisation went better than usual, though. Only dropped Harold Haemorrhoids cream once, the Germolid the same! I did come close to losing the Olive-Oil-dropper, but I kept control. Smug-Mode-Adopted!
The deodorant, Saccades Sandra Spray, and room freshener were all dropped several times! Humph! A final fling, as if to put it. Hahaha!
The knees looked much better, and the leg veins were shy today. Oh, I’ve just noticed, I’m no longer Hiccuping!
Off to check on the pork in the slow cooker. The seasoning I’d added, had still not dissolved? (I must be careful and make sure everything is safe before I make it into a stew).
On closer inspection, I found that the pork shoulder was already cooked, and was soft. The potatoes were still hard. And I’d forgotten to put the mushrooms in the mix.
No problem, mind you. My absent-mindedness, paramnesia, and blank-spells were ion existence before the stroke. It’s just that since then, they have taken up permanent residence within the grey-cells! As with the Peripheral Neuropathy and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, they are a part of Inchcocks make-up nowadays. I took out the pork and some gravy and added them to the saucepan with the peas.
As I was pondering on whether to take another picture from the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, thick-framed, impossible to get at to clean (without risking life and limb to use the step ladders), letting the rain in, new kitchen windows. I put the kettle on to boil again, the flats Fire Alarms sounded.
By the time I got to the balcony and opened the finger trapping end window, that also lets the rain in, well, they all do, the first of the tenders responding arrived. Followed a minute later by the second vehicle.
The crews strolled into the foyer. Judging by their casual and ambling approach, I took it that they didn’t expect the alarm to indicated there was a real fire. After all, it must be three weeks or so now, since the Winchester Court Fire. Longer since a Woodthorpe Court one. The crews were on their way home within five minutes. Thank you, lads!
When I nipped onto the balcony to see if the chaps had departed, I took a snap through the window of the end of Chestnut Walk. I didn’t want to risk injury opening the lethal metal spring clip window again. No, that’s wrong. That window is just impossible to open, too tight. The maintenance men tried for me five months or so ago, and they couldn’t do it. It was when they came to look at the plaster breaking up on the ceiling of the balcony. Naturally, they have not been back.
I opened the left end window that one works! To take the 2nd shot in the other direction. The picture looked pretty with the oh-so green trees.
Then onto CorelDraw to do some graphics.
Oops! Time for the mobile shop, it’ll be here in twenty minutes. So, I put Computer Cameron in Sleep-Mode and got the wheels, cash and down to the ground floor… well, that was the plan, anyway!
A new system has been set-up for the lifts again. Sensible, but time-consuming! As it is, we are only allowed one resident in a lift at a time. So, it can be a long wait to get the elevator at times. Now, we can only one lift, the right one is for residents & Visitors, the left one is reserved for Construction Workers Only. As I say, understandable, but so frustrating.
The Construction Workers lift kept coming and the door opening, repeatedly. I leant in, and pressed the ground floor button, then pushed the call button (Which works for the nearest lift). The Workers lift kept coming back up and tempting me to be naughty, but I resisted! This happened three times. Would I make it down in time to catch the mobile shop? Dang, dang, dang… Dang! Hehehe!
By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, the electronic sign informed me I had a minute to get outside before the ETA of the shop.
Luckily, it was a few minutes late in coming. It was nice to have someone to natter to, even from a safe-distancing way away.
It was windy out there, one gal had not got a jacket on either. Brr! I took this picture while awaiting my turn. I got some bits, about three, the chap had not the other three items I fancied. Can’t be helped!
As I said my farewells and got back into the flats, it dawned on me how much I’d spent to buy this few items? I purchased four tomatoes as well. Had to tell him that two were rotten and gone soft. He changed them for me. Well, the chap is new to the game, and a life-saver at times, so no complaints from me. He was a used-car salesman before the danged Coronavirus arrived. His missus doesn’t come out with him anymore, here is the entrepreneurs’ story link: Car Salesman starts Mobile Shop.
Josie came in behind me and insisted I take a pint of semi-skinned milk for the one I let her have on Friday. I said, “I don’t use semi skinned, I prefer to use whole milk, but less of it.”- “Why did you have it in then?” – “I kept it in reserve with it being long-life, just in case” Anyway, she forced it on me. Hehehe!
We got up to the flats, and Josie held the door open for me to get in with the trolley, bless! I got in with the bits bought – £6 something for these. The apples were of particular interest. The label read, Product of France. The apples look tasty, so I got one out to nibble. The stick-on tag on the fruit read, Grown in New Zealand. I took a couple of the seedless grapes to try, and noticed there were a lot of bare fruitless stalks! Hahaha!
I’m getting a smidge tired now, nearing my usual nosh and head-down time. But, I need to stay awake for the Morrison delivery arriving late on. So, back to the CorelDrawing for a while. Hello, a phone call coming in, I hope it’s Sister Jane to tell me how she and Pete’s coping.
Nope! It was the Morrison delivery man Julian, saying he might be arriving early. So I saved the work, turned off Computer Cameron, and got ready for him arriving. I took a peep outside to see if I could see the van…
I thought at first, it was the Morrison van. But on a closer look, I’m afraid it was the Emergency Ambulance. Oh, dear!
A few minutes later, and the fodder arrived. The chap put the carriers in the hallway for me, I thanked him, slipped him a can of G&T, and took them through to the kitchen and stored them away.
Well, they made a right mess of the oven trays I’d ordered. They charged me for 1×2 large trays and sent just one (Crushed) individual one! And 2×4 small trays and I didn’t get any, but the label that goes on them, was in a carrier? I’ll be so glad when I can get out and buy food for myself. Humph! The two packets of sweet potato pancakes were one! I was all confused!
And muggings here thanked them and gave him a treat! Frangleklops!
I got the stuff put away, and got the meal served up. At least this turned out alright. Made even tastier with the two Sourdough muffins dipped in the gravy! A stew of sorts. Onions, mushrooms, pork shoulder, all overseasoned with Soy sauce, Balsamic vinegar, tasty juices, canned potatoes and garden peas. Flavour Rating: 7/10.
Got the washing in the bowl to soak overnight. And down into the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner, in search of sleep. Which surprisingly came sharpishly.
The landline flashed. I hazily of mind, struggled up to answer it. It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the new dosages for the Warfarin, from the Anticoagulation, Deep Vein Thrombosis Unit. Tue 2½, Wed 2, Thur 2½, Frid 2½, Sat 2½, Sunday 2. There was no number for Monday? Unless, in my half-awake state, I missed it. Which is a possibility? The next blood test is in on Tuesday 7th June.
I wrote the figures down, thanked her, and climbed back into the none-working, sickeningly beige-coloured, c1968 recliner. In search of Sweet Morphious once more.
This time with a lot more success!
Apart from several disturbances to have wee-wees. (All of the RPD (Reluctant-Painful-Dribbling) variety, I must have got, ready for it… six hours kip in between! Great!
03:30hrs: After waking and nodding off again several times, I forced myself to activate the brain and limbs (I needed a wee-wee!), and rose from the depths of the slowly disintegrating, £300, second-hand c1968 recliner.
The stomach where the tea spilt onto last night, was tender, the feet agony the moment I got my weight on them.
Off to the wet room, for the most sprinkling and spraying release ever! I had a job to see that much of it had reached the porcelain at all. But, on the bright side, it made me clean the WC tank, seat, floor cabinets, the floor itself and the handwashing sink. Also, various parts of my body. Christened this one a VSWAO (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over) wee. You’d be surprised at how much had sprinkled on the arms and upper torso, too, I was!
Took the medications, and remembering yesterdays nightmare Accifauxpa, I very carefully, nervously made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. I managed it without any further dropsies, scolding of my body parts, or injury! Phew!
Waiting for it to brew, I took a shot of the morning view. Then, imbibed the morning medications, and back to the wet room for another wee-wee. Which was of the same VSWAO mode as the first one was!
I got the Health Checks done. The SYS had come down at last. The earhole temperature of 64°f seemed fine enough.
Then I got Computer-Cameron going, and did a graphic first, then on to updating the I Saturday post. About three hours later, I’d got it finished. Then I emailed the Link. Went on the WordPress Reader. Then Facebooking. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was in a good mood with me!
Still no need of the Porcelain Throne heavy-duty usage needed, yet? Off I trudged limpingly (Oh, the toes!) to get the ablutions tackled.
Ablutionisticalisationing Report:
The terrible Toothache Terence was triggered, cleaning the teeth.
The shaving took such a long time, but I was extremely wary after yesterday. However, no cuts whatsoever!
The showering had few repeated dropsies. The shower gel bottle (3), the showerhead It’s a miracle it hasn’t broken yet?(2), the flannel, and the back scrubber (4).
Dizzy Dennis visited me towards the end of the showering, but thankfully for only a couple of minutes or so.
The drying off under the wall heater went almost perfectly! (Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Not a single item was knocked off of the floor cabinet (Honestly!)
I did make a Whoopsidangleplop when getting dressed, well a couple. I clouted my knee on the WC as I lost balance getting the trousers on. And then, putting the shirt on, I hit my right knuckle on the edge of the door. But nothing serious.
I sorted out the waste bags. Five small bags were taken to the waste chute, and the gigantic blue recycling bag had some stuff added to it. Far too big for the minuscule opening in the chute, so I can take it down to the caretaker’s room in the morning.
Back to the apartment, and a message came in from Iceland. Another round of my getting addled and disconcerted, dementia or memory loss, call it what you will. But I was convinced I’d ordered it for next Monday? Anyway, it was due to arrive in a few minutes! Sad, innit?
Minutes later, the intercom rang but then stopped after a few seconds. Now I was confused. If I got down to have a look, I might miss whoever it was of they rang back. It turned out to be the Iceland delivery driver. The chap said he had other deliveries in the block, so rang each one to let them know he was here.
He put the good through in the hall for me, I slipped him a can of G&T, then got the bags into the kitchen to sort through them.
I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana to drink while getting the things away.
I started off with the frozen stuff. Far too much to fir in the freezer! So I did mean to order these for next week? Sadly, some throwing out of food was needed to get the new stuff fitted in. By the time I’d done it, there was another bag ready to go to the waste chute!
Then, on to the fridge and fresh food bags. Mushrooms, orange juice, pork shoulder steaks. Some of what I am sure will be uneatable Morrocan tomatoes, the last lot were. The mushrooms, well-covered in nutrient-rich compost! The wholemeal rolls, crushed flat, as only Iceland know how to do. Kitchen towels, potatoes etc. Next bag, endless cakes?
I just cannot remember ordering all this lot? Blimey, if the dates are long enough, I’ll still have to hand some out, so many! Cheddar biscuits as well? Oh, and a Raspberry and cream swiss roll. (That could have been ordered, a vague memory guiltily lingers!)
Made a start on this blog for a couple of hours, then got Josie’s meal prepared and delivered. Cheesy potatoes, tomatoes, gherkins, silverskin onions, Surimi-sticks, smoked haddock, peas and beetroot. Delivered it Josie’s door. And then got some belly pork in the oven to slow-cook, coated in hoisin sauce, for my feast. Started on the computer again.
Saccades Sandra and Dizzy Dennis paid me an extended visit. I had to give up on doing the computing.
Concentrated on making the nosh… carefully, not taking any risks.
A fairish plateful, considering how Dizzy Dennis and Shirley were giving my so much bother. A score of 7.5/10
The early-weariness joined in. I got the pots washed and took the evening medications, but that was all.
I got down in the recliner and the TV on, and nodding-offs soon started. None of them lasted for longer than five minutes. Amazingly timed for me to miss and exciting bit of whatever I was watching!
But for any proper sleep, my Sweet Morpheous, I had to wait for hours!
I gave-up on the TV and laid looking lazily and lackadaisically at the rain coming down the balcony windows and in through the cracks to soak the running board.
The wee-wee trips were frequent, but each time they would have struggled to fill a tea-cup! They were getting less and less. Still, I got up and down each event without any further injuries.
Eventually, I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and the dying sun put in a surprise visit.
With Sweet Morpheous still refusing my requests, I put the TV back on. And was pleased to find a documentary on Freeview channel 66. I really got into it as well… During the second set of adverts, Zzzz!
05:00hrs: It has been the worst night for sleep for many a month. Due to the Post-Micturition After-Dribble (PMAD), Diabetes insipidus. They warned me that this might take a grip on me! Boy, it did too last night! To make things worse, all the utilisationing of Little Inchie, caused the fungal lesion to bleed as well. I spent more time using the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) than sleeping!
All of the releases were of the OSSPAD (Orange-Sprinkly-Short-Painful-After-Dribble) type. I lost count of the number of times I had to scramble out of the £300. second-hand recliner, take a wee, then climb back into the chair again. But it was always only a few minutes at the most before the next one came along! Blanglebotherations!
I gave up trying to get any Sweet Morpheous around 05:00hrs, and needing yet another wee-wee, I rose for the last time, used the bucket, and took it to be emptied cleaned and sanitised, for the second time! I made sure I washed my hands and certain areas and disinfected the contact points.
I noticed the stomach in the shaving mirror, with the Enoxaparin needle marks scattered about. It looked quite artistic, I thought. Hehehe! I changed the PPs again, thanking heaven for my friend Michael who supplied me with them. Cheers mate!
I got the kettle on, as the sun tried to come out from behind the blocks of flats. The red sky that soon disappeared looked so pretty and beautiful.
I got the Health Checks things out; the blue sphygmomanometer, the old, smaller ear-hole thermometer, olive oil, Germolene, and the tablets. No need for the Enoxaparin hypodermic needles now that the INR level has risen.
What a shock! Thunderisations! The SYS was at 182? Far too high undoubtedly? DIA and the Pulse seemed alright, though? I’ll do an extra check, later on, to see if it’s dropped any. Perhaps the lack of sleep and frustration of all the wee-weeing overnight, might have affected it? Oh, dearie me! At least the body temperature came out alright, at 35.7°c.
I took a blind-snap of below, on Chestnut Walk. Two parking spaces free? Disabled ones?
I made the brew of Glengettie Gold, and off to the computer to get the updating done on the Friday blog. Within minutes the stomach ache started, and this meant an urgent hobble to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne!
Gordon Bennet! The flesh of my highly desirous (to lions and tigers in the wild) body, was so alabaster, anaemic, and lacteous like. The legs seem to have gained a bit of meat, or fat as well. The ankle ulcer was trying to flourish again, methinks. But this often happens, then a day later it will have gone down yet?
The feet were no better. So corpselike. And hobbling was so painful to the soles and toes.
Still, the evacuation, although messier than ever, and was still khaki in colour, was less painful, and quicker.
I washed and went to make a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. The skies had gone darker, the sun had given up, and a little light drizzle had just started to fall. Maybe the Yellow Warning for floods and storms might have some validity?
I launched into concentrating on the post updating. It took me about four hours, but I got it done in the end. Emailed the links. Then answered a couple of comments, moving on to the WordPress Reader next. Finally, on Facebooking.
Then on CorelDrawing to get some graphics done. And this time, I must get some done! I managed a few, then went to do the health Checks again. A bit of a surprise on the first try, it seems I’m dead and didn’t know it. Hahaha!
I tried again and got these result on the right. Much better than the first test I did today.
I noticed the sausages in the tray ready to go in the oven, so turned on the stove heat to put them in later on. I decided it would be a good idea to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and did so.
– What-a-Mistaka-to-Maker! I decided there was not enough boiling water in the mug, turned the kettle on to bring it back to the boil, and for some silly reason I moved the mug with my right hand – Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed. And, I dropped the kettle as I tried to save the mug from being lost to my grip. Ending up with them both on the floor!
I got the kettle up first as the electrics would be dangerous all wet, and managed to spill some hot water down my bulbous stomach and on the left foot!
Making an even bigger mess and getting myself more and more het-up!
Granglesknackersbuggerit! I used up four rolls of kitchen paper, clearing things up. Accompanied by various curses, oaths and almost spitting with it!
I bet my blood pressure has shot up again now!
Making things worserer, the right-hand side nerve-end failure, meant that some things had to be done with the left hand only. A few moments of frustration turned into another sickening self-pity-period.
To makes things even worst, I slipped on a patch of wet I’d missed as I was putting masses of towelling in the waste bin. And stubbed my toes on the cabinet door! I’d gone from an unusually semi-contented mood to one of absolute self-hatred and frustration in seconds!
I got the place cleaned as best I could. Sausages in the oven, it had taken so long to get the sorting out done, and a bit of panic began to set-in, so I imagine the cleaning will all have to be checked and done again.
For me, the day was finished. No enthusiasm left. Knowing how these things can happen with Peripheral Neuropathy, or Dizzy Dennis, Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying, and Neuropathic Pete’s leg dancing, still doesn’t prepare one for when a couple of the ailments kick-off together, and things like these happen. I suppose a bit of self-pity lingered about. Sorry!
I even had to force myself to make the meal. But when I came around a bit later, I was glad I did. Hahaha! I went to make some notes of exactly what had happened, but the memory-blanks were there again. But it was a good job I had these notes when it came to writing the memories of incidents.
I got the meal served up. By this time, I had resigned myself to the accident, realising that the situation is not going to improve, only get worse. Thus, I enjoyed eating up all of the fodder. Skinless sausages, new potatoes, garden peas, onions and seedless grapes. A pot of lemon yoghourt, a jam tart and some fresh orange juice. A flavour-rating of 7/10 was given.
Due to all the kerfuffle, I forgot to take the Warfarin and evening tablets! I accept my lousy luck, I’ve had years of practice after all. But this time, it was too much, and I withdrew into myself, moping, repining, lamenting, regretting and generally in a despondent mood.
I remember washing the pots and taking this photo. It seemed to show localised showers falling in the distance.
As for owt after that, nothing! Can’t recall getting back to the recliner, or anything really.
But when I woke up in the morning, the green lid I usually put the medication into, was on the Ottoman, and empty, so I assume I did take the evening doses.
03:30hrs: I woke up, requiring the traditional wee-wee. But for some reason, the Porcelain Throne was not needed.
I rose from the semi-comfortable, £300, second-hand, rickety, none-working, rusty, and spew-promptingly-beige-coloured, c1968, recliner, without any undue trouble. Grabbed the stick, and made my way to the GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and took a WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode wee-wee. It still amazes me sometimes, for the bucket had been well-used overnight, yet I cannot remember using it once? Considering the pain and effort that I need to get up, the stick to get to the bucket, then back down into the seat again, I find this bemusing? Can some neuropharmacologist, or psychoanalyst (or whichever word I should have used) out there, explain this for me, please? I can’t recall if this used to happen before I had the stroke, but I think it occasionally did. Nowadays, it’s a regular phenomenon. Just thought I’d ask, like. Sorry.
I took the bucket to be emptied, cleaned and sanitised. Washed the hands and contact points, and off to the kitchen to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, and excellently flavoursome it was! Mind you, making the brew, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters let me down, again at just the wrong time! I spilt the hot tea, and naturally, it went on the biggest nearby target available, my stomach! Niggleclump!
Through the unwanted and unliked new kitchen, my favourite room, window. (Hahaha!) I tried to take a photo of the morning view. But, it came out so different from what the eye saw in the viewer? I used the night panorama option, on the Nikon?
I must find time to sort out the medicine drawers. The health Check results were much better this morning, apart from the temperature, at 61.8°f, low I think. The SYS, Dia and Pulse all looked well within the range permitted for a grumpy old fogey?
I got the brew made, and off to get Computer Cameron going.
The timing of Nicodemus and Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was annoying. The moment I started typing, they both kicked off! Even Saccades Sandra had a bash at me! But not for too long. I found a determination and concentration from somewhere and pressed on, ever-correcting mistakes, I’ve likely missed some I suppose. Eventually, I was so glad to get the updating finished, hours later, naturally.
I nipped (talking loosely), to the wet room, as I felt a little discomfort from the innards, and did not want to risk any more embarrassing incidents, so, off to the Porcelain Throne. What a life when yer grows older and get iller! Haha! But apart from an excessively large amount of wind escaping from the innards (quiet musical, too!), there were no signs of any evacuation! I even spent a while on the crossword book, just in case anything happened belatedly. Nope, nothing did!
Back to the computer. Emailed the link off. Then went on WordPress Reader. Followed by Facebooking. Then, I made up a template for tomorrow’s blog.
Herbert’s having a bash at his modelling methinks. I’d love to know what it is he’s making.
I nearly missed the Priority Iceland order spot. Got an order in, just in time. Phew! Got some different fish ordered for Josie to try this week. And, some shoulder pork to try and cook in the crock-pot.
I went to make another brew, feeling guilty, I haven’t got the ablutions done yet. Scallywag!
There seemed to be a green hue in the air now? I took a snap form the unwanted, unliked, dangerous kitchen windows, of the frontal view.
Then, I got the old Lumix camera and tried to take a rolling shot, of Chestnut Walk, below. But I failed, as I expected I would. I just can’t keep the camera still enough to scan with. I’ve tried on all three cameras now, but I failed on every effort. Sad innit? The danged Peripheral Neuropathy is to blame. Broggleknockersworth! Still, the green hue, or the Lumix camera giving everything a green tinge, was refreshing. Lenny Lumix is like me, getting on a bit, and certain parts of it, are not working right nowadays. Hahaha!
I went onto CorelDraw then, to get a few graphics done, I’m getting low on them for the TFZers, now.
Aha, the mobile shop as arrived. Back in a bit, folks. Nipped down and managed a natter with Flo, Josie and Roy, but the bloke had only got one tin of garden peas left, no tomatoes, no bread and no milk in stock! Josie was going to struggle with no milk, but fortunately, I had a carton of long life semi-skinned in emergency stock in the flat. I went up first and got it out and took it for Josie to have.
Brought in my one tin of garden peas, half a cucumber, tin of stewed steak and an ice-cream cornet. Humph!
Got the nosh sorted out. Not one of my betterer efforts. The battered fish I let overcook a smidge. An overall flavour rating of 6.5/10.
– Then, the Diabetes insipidus boosted the wee-weeing, and almost none stop piddling was required, every one of them with Post Micturition Dribble (PMD). By morning, I used eight pairs of PP’s! Flipping good luck that my mate Michael had supplied me with ample reserves! Thanks, Michael! Hope you’re coping out there, mate?
I needed so many, not just for the after-dribble, but all the over-use of Little Inchy had started the fungal lesion bleeding.
Watching the TV was not on, I had to climb out of the recliner – use the emergency bucket and back down repeatedly. And the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) needed emptying and sanitising to get me through.
01:30hrs: I came back to semi-life, immediately thinking to myself, ‘Well, that’s a bonus”Hahaha!
Excruciatingly slowly, the thoughts gathered to torment me. I had to nit-pick between what worries needed attention, those I didn’t want to know about, and the ones that needed priority.
I had to remember, not to give myself an Enoxaparin injection this morning, until the Phlebotomy Nurse arrives, she’s going to watch me, and assess if I am alright to do it on my own. The updating of yesterdays post, which will take some time. So much happened yesterday that I have not had a chance to write in yet. I must ask if the INR blood level test needs doing today. I need to find out if the Audio clinic, Foot clinic and Deep Vein … No, there’s too much going on in the head here!
I’ll get the updating done when I’ve taken the medications and done the Health Checks. Ah, a quick change of plans was enforced here! The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, and there is no way I wanted another accident, by not getting to the wet room in time!
All concentration was rerouted to getting up and arriving at the Throne in time. I fumbled getting my over-abundantly sized fleshy-stomach and body from the £300, not-working, second-hand, c1968 recliner. I got upright, a bit of a dizzy, but not enough to delay me too much, grabbed the stick and wobbled my way as quickly as I could, to the wet room.
Phew! I got there with no time to spare! Like yesterday, the control of the movement was out of my hands, the innards were orchestrating the motion! And what a messy affair it was! Silver Lining Search Results: I did get there in time – and if I had not, the looseness, pong and waterness would have meant a right horrible cleaning up job would have been needed! So, I was not unpleased with the close-call this time! The stink was strong, the colour, a sort of greyish-khaki. It required several presses of the flush, and still, things hadn’t fully cleared. I’ll go back and try again later. Huh!
The feet were hurting so much again. However, they didn’t look too bad when I took this snap of them. I prayed I would not have another toe-stubbing, though! Hehe!
Cleaned up, washed the dandies and wiped the contact points, and off to make a brew.
Got the kettle on, and the Health Checks were done. The results were a lot better than yesterdays. Sys had come down from 177 to 158. The temperature showed as just ‘Low’. Took the medications with some spring water, and made a mug of Assam tea.
Went through and got on with the updating of Wednesday’s blog. This was a bit of a grind, I’m afraid. Thanks to Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Saccades Sandra, both playing up from time to time. Grumblecronkackers! Eventually, I did get it finished and felt a smidge of pride in getting through it. Took an aeon, mind! Three wee-wees needed.
I sent the links off, the post to WordPress, then on the Reader Section. Made up a template for today’s post.
As I began to write this blog, an acute stomach ache kicked off? No hesitation from me, I limped-swiftly to the wet room. And just as well I did, again it was a close call. Where is it all coming from?
Flush after flush but the Throne refused to sloosh down all of the remaining toilet paper, it just wouldn’t have it! I had to keep pouring water into the sink, and scooping it out in a basin and into WC bowl! Not that it worked, I’ll have to keep nipping back and flush it again.
I got the hunger pangs arrived and decided to have a pot noodle. Got the kettle on, and went back to the wet room for a flush or two… Blimey, the pong in there! The air spray was utilised in high quantity!
– I decided I’d better get the ablutions tended to early, just in case any of the nurses call more shortly than expected. As I got in the room, Sodwrangle me, sudden sharp tummy pains, and I needed yet another Throne Visit! It was all over bar the cleaning up, within a minute or two. Hardly anything came, Khaki in colour, almost liquid again, and so very messy, with an even worse putrid stink! Hey-ho! Took a lot of cleaning up. I’d lost half an hour by the time I started by cleaning the teeth.
Ablutionalisationing Report Hehe!
Toothache Thomas spoilt the teeth cleaning session. Just two dropsies, the paste and the brush.
Did the nasal clearing-out okay. No dropsies!
Shaving: Just the one tiny cut. Dropped the razor a few times (4), and the foam can (2).
Checked down below and Little Inchies fungal l lesion was not bleeding!
Got in the shower, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me.
Dropped the flannel twice, shower head, hitting the right knee, and the shower gel bottle.
Came out to dry off, and knocked just about everything off of the floor cabinet!
It took me ages to sort it all out, so I took the opportunity to clean the cabinet while I was there.
Had another go at flushing the toilet roll away. Failed!
The cap-end off of the body spray shot off, couldn’t find it?
Using the new Germoloid cream now, it was heaven!
I ambled to the kitchen and then gathered all the waste bins to be sorted out, and bags to go to the rubbish chute.
The intercom flashed and sounded, I pressed the top button, saw part of a nurses uniform on the screen, and it all reverted back to the base screen, and I could no longer communicate or see anything. I pressed the admit button, but it was too late!
I put on a jumper, intending to go down to see if the nurse had gained entry. Of course, I may miss her on her way up, as I go down. Life is not very easy in Woodthorpe Court. The dang new intercom, it too quiet in full volume for many of us to hear it. The bloody thing keeps going down and malfunctioning! The old one, which was just a phone, had an easy to listen to ring-tone.
I got carried away there, sorry Back to the real plot.
By the time I’d got to the door, the nurse was coming in the hallway. She did not know about training me to do the Enoxaparin injections but watched me while I did it. She did her paperwork, and I mentioned the Porcelain Throne frequency this morning. She told me someone would be back to give me the injection later this afternoon or night. I suppose it is possible that I just imagined I’d asked her about the Throne visits?
As she was leaving, she had to tell me that the intercom was ringing! Thanked her and investigated, it was Vampire Nurse Christina, I let her in, and told the other nurse who it was, and she nipped off.
Hristina was like a breath of fresh air. She said she’d called to someone else in a flat higher up yesterday. She was in a desperate hurry but managed to bandy a few thoughts about, bless her ♥.
Well, not even 09:30hrs, and already both morning Nurse visits all done and dusted. I hope the next one is not too late arriving. It may well be that they leave it the 12-hours as prescribed between Enoxaparin injections. The thought of me staying up until then is worrying, I’ll never do it!
Ah, that reminds me, I’ve some Cashew nuts coming today via Amazon! I’ll check the tracker, now. Pretty close, then, ETA 11:15 > 13:50hrs.
Oh, how I hope I don’t fall asleep if the nurse is going to come late, had Amazon also been late, it would have helped me perhaps?
I had an email from Jenny. Sent one back and phoned her, she will come to collect the tissues and milk and leave money through the letterbox. I put out the carriers for her. The wonderful lady of Merit picked them up minutes later, rang the chimes and put the money through the letter-box. She’s helping so many people. She used to work helping Stroke victims a long time ago and understands the problems. She’s still at it long after retirement. Bless Her Cotton Socks ♥.
Herbert is making some noise upstairs this afternoon. Modelling perhaps. The chap is an agelast, never seen him smile yet, let alone laugh. But I like the lad. Being different is not a crime.
The innards have settled down a bit now. I had a check on the latest Corovavirus figures.
He’s giving it some hammer, is Herbert above. I’d love to know what it is he’s building. As long as he’s happy.
I can expect the results of the INR blood test anytime now. You never know, INR (International Normalised Ratio), just might have gone high enough for me to stop the injections. Well, perhaps, maybe, possibly, perchance, presumptively, probably, mayhaps, at least theoretically? Or not! But my EQ tells me, the INR will be high enough to cancel the injections. I’d put money on it.
Then, on WordPress to do a template for tomorrow, and CorelDraw for more graphics.
I got a call from the INR Warfarin Deep Vein Thrombosis clinic. The lady had the results of this mornings blood test and doses for me. The Warfarin will alternate, between 2 and 2½ daily, and the next blood test will be on Tuesday 30th June.
It’s going to be a busy day, that is! I’ll have the Vampire nurse calling. I’ve to check on the Dentist, Foot Clinic, and Audio Centre, to see if they are open yet. Contact the doctor to see if I can escape the confines of my apartment again! And the Morrison order coming late afternoon. There’s something else as well, but I can’t recall what it is. Gogglesgnatsworth!
The result of the test is an INR of 2.1, which is in an acceptable range. So, no more Enoxaparin injections. I asked if the nurses had been advised as they were due to call again today, all sorted. I thanked the lady and went to get something to eat, belatedly.
I was so tired now, I threw some chicken, took the mushrooms from the crockpot and tomatoes on a plate, and buttered two wholemeal rolls. It was a plain, unattractive, unappetising meal, but enough for me for now. So, weary!
I had to return to the kitchen again, to make sure that I’d not left the taps running, stove on, fridge door open and had closed the windows properly shut.
Blimey, it was still so light and bright at this time of night.
As I sat down and got the tray on my knee, the flaming attentions of Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley hit me! The plate toppled onto the floor! I sat a few moments, looking down at the mess of food on the carpet. Stewing with frustration! It was now three hours beyond my usual head-down time, and my spirits sank.
I got the brush and the long dustpan and got the food into the waste bin. During which, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters died, and as I was picking up the container, lost my grip, and respread most of the mess back onto the carpet! Grobbledamitt! I retrieved the fodder bits again and carefully closed the bag before picking it up! Shame I’d not thought of doing this before! Ashamed to say, I did not do any more cleaning up!
I just wasn’t interested in eating anymore. But sleep appeared like an excellent option for me. I took the evening medications, and got down in the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner; feeling sure that Sweet Morpheous would soon be with me.
I was spot-on for once! I stripped off and dolloped my blubbery-stomached body in the ramshackle, c1968 none-working, electric-less chair. Within minutes, I was spreadeagled over the seat, and Sweet Morpheous greeted me! Yes!
Around 20:30hrs, I woke in need of a wee-wee, which at first annoyed me! Then I realised that the intercom was warbling! I hastened to the panel, and saw the two highly attractive young District Nurses! I pressed the admit button and hastily shot into the wet room for a wee-wee…
Stubbing the right foot toes on the metal chair-raiser legs! Argherargh! No time to be bothered about that now though, I had to get some clothes on before the nurses let themselves in! This was essential! Imagine the shock to their systems if they came in to be greeted with any overweight, blubber-stomached old man in front of them? It could have caused them psychological maladjustment damage! Phew, glad I got things covered in time!
I grabbed a dressing gown, a thick, heavy one that was nearby, and covered Little Inchy and saved my utter embarrassment! In seconds of doing this, the nurses were coming through the door. The shared looks between the two nurses told me they were thinking along the lines of; “We’ve got a right one here, potty! Red hot weather and he’s wearing a thick dressing gown!” Hehe!
I explained the situation and the cancelling of the Enoxaparin injections. Showed them the bag with my record log and hypodermics in it, asking if they should take it away. “No you keep onto it, yer might need it again!” “The Enoxaparin must be taken back to the chemists” (Like that’s going to happen!) They checked my details, in between giving each other subliminal-sideways looks, and departed. I bet they got a good a few tales about this visit to pass on to the other ladies! I thanked them, and as they left, a cheery smile came over their faces. Most likely at not having to inject into my scarily obese stomach, and their escape from the demented old fools flat! Hahaha!
I’ll have to rearrange the medicine drawers in the morning, to fit in the mass of Enoxaparin Hypos in stock. Twice the number, as they are only filled with 40mg, not the 100gm as they should have been. Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store. A least they delivered them for me, cheers!
Disappointingly, sleep did not come easily this time. Then the Thought Storms came. They became conflated, and eventually, I freed myself of them. Dropped off, Gawd knows what time, but it was late. Then the dreams started…
13:30hrs: I was up like a lark, as happy as I could be, full of the joys of Spring. Singing, dancing, with a smile as big as a mammoth… Oh, alright then… the truth!
03:30hrs: I woke up, feeling rotten, horrible! Which I put down to the double-dose Enoxaparin injections yesterday. No stomach pains as such, but I sensed that I could feel the walls of the inner stomach, bloated, yet wobbling about? This is the best way I could explain it? There was not a lot of enthusiasm permeating through the brain yet, either.
These emotions of depressiveness were soon removed. The need for a wee-wee forced me to prise my hog-like, ponderosity of a stomach-bulked-body from the £300, second-hand, not-working recliner. I caught my balance, got the stick, and was making my way, casually, carefully and cautiously to the wet room. The instant alarm-call to use the Porcelain Throne arrived, my previous disinterest in life, changed top a mild panic! Would I make it in time? The few moments it took for me to get to the Throne, felt like minutes.
: I’m afraid I didn’t make it in time! Self-embarrassment-Mode-Adopted! The evacuation was accompanied with a bash at the crossword book. I amazed myself and got a few answered. But the Accifauxpas in not arriving at the Porcelain Throne in time took away any sense of pride or worth. Say no more! Gruffshameblowit!
It took me a while to get things cleaned up. By 04:20hrs, I was washed and refreshed, new PPs on, and checked that everything was sanitised and cleaned up properly. By the time I was ready to leave, my eagerness mode had gone down to Defcon 2! Humph!
Things weren’t helped when I clouted my right shoulder against the doorframe, on the way out. This started Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley going for an hour or so, none-stop!
A trickle of self-loathing and worthlessness, combined with an almost painful embarrassment lingered.
I trudged limpingly to the kitchen, it was surprisingly dark for this time in the morning. I got the kettle on, and the equipment out for the Health Checks. My BP was worryingly high!. The Sys showed up as 177! The temperature came out as 68.5°f.
I think that last night’s Enoxaparin injections might have had some effect on the reading. I took this morning’s, as instructed by the Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis clinic lady. I must remember to tell the nurse if she does come, to do a blood test today, it’s not sure they will have anyone available to ‘do’ me. Haha!
Then I wondered if there are any at-home INR test kits available, and how much they might cost.
I got on the computer and investigated. After a while, I found some that were gettable in the UK.
My enthusiasm for this project abated a little when I saw the prices! They were on offer in the USA, the machine costing $899!
I started on updating the Tuesday blog. Which was a bit farcical, due to the attentions of Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley. Making errors and mistakes the norm, thus far too many corrections having to be made. So the finishing was delayed. But in the end, I got it made and posted off.
The ablutions to be done next. A stand-up washing and shave session. As it was too early to use the shower, for fear of disturbing my neighbours.
A couple of dropsies, no shaving cuts, and no knocking into or anything over. No dizzies, no stubbed toes! Brilliant! Now I was cheering up a bit, getting back to my usual self!
The morning view from the kitchen, when I went to make another brew, Extra Strong Morrison’s Assam this time, was lovely.
Sister Jane rang. We had a nattering session for ages. Enjoyed that!
I checked on the latest Corona Virus figures.
Then the door chimes rang out the Dusty Springfield, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫, tune.
It was Iceland’s delivery arriving. The chap placed the bags inside the door for me, I slipped him a mini-bottle of wine. At least the driver brought the food up for me, bless him.
I got the fodder sorted out. And as I finished the task, the landline rang out! It was the Doctors Surgery. The lady confirmed that a phlebotomy nurse would be arriving later, and asked if my carer could fetch my medications from the chemist that the nurse will need. Oh, dearie me! I explained that I do not have a carer. Shocked her a bit that did! I said that Warden Deana arranged for a volunteer to fetch me medications each month.
She inquired about how I get my shopping. I told her of the mobile shop coming on a Tuesday and Friday, and Iceland delivering
I gave the receptionist the telephone number, after my faffling about for ages to find it! She was very patient with me when Stuttering Stephanie kicked.
I made a much-delayed start on this template, then started it off.
The lady from the surgery rang back. Said I’d given here the wrong telephone number. Oh, dear! I checked on my 1980 mobile Nokia phone for the number there. Which was the same one as I had given her earlier? She could tell I was panicking a bit, told me not to worry, she’d sort it.
I then went on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking. Then read the comments on WordPress. Now, on to the WordPress Reader section. Some great stuff on it today.
It’s past my usual din-din time, now. I can’t make the meal until the nurse has been. The planed nosh is Pork steaks with BBQ seasoning and Hickory. I’ve put the seasoning on the meat to let it marinate. Got the oven on low, so it will heat quicker when needed. Cunning? Baked beans with a drop of Hickory soaking in the saucepan ready. Sliced white bread out of the freezer to defrost and soak up the tomato sauce. But, when will the nurse arrive?
Jenny called to see if I wanted any bleach, yoghourt or lemon mousse adding on her next order to be delivered. She is getting it on the same day as I get the Morrison order, Tuesday 30th June. I asked for some lemon yoghourt and mousse, please. So kind of her.
I forgot to mention that I had some milk and tissues in the spare room in case she needed any, I rang her back to let her know. I think the reason that Iceland had delivered to the flat door, (Where they did not for some younger tenants), might have been because I am registered with them by the Government as a High-Risk isolating customer with them?
I went on CorelDraw to make up some graphics to use tomorrow.
Got a call from Carrington Pharmacy, asking me to tell the nurse when she arrives, to ring the chemists?
Then the intercom buzzed, it was someone from Carrington Pharmacy? I let her in.
One minute later, the intercom buzzed again, it was the Phlebotomy nurse. I admitted her.
The nurse arrived and let herself in. I mentioned the chemist lady calling me and why, and a pharmacy lady buzzing to get in? The nurse said she’ll take a look to see if she can find the chemist lady. but she had not arrived? As she went out to search for the other lady, that woman arrived in the hallway. The two angels spoke to each other, ad a bag was handed to the nurse. I could not hear the words spoken.
The nurse came back in and said the girl, had walked up the stairs, and they have not got any of the required sized Enoxaparin, and have sent half-quantity filled ones, so I’ll have to have four injections a day instead of two. Never mind!
Lovely nurse. Bit of a chinwag as we went through the situation identificatory’s. (I like that word!) She insisted on giving me the injections.
She will be returning in the morning and will watch and see if she thinks I can handle the self-inoculums. But is concerned about the shaking and jumping of the right hand and fingers, they may come on when I’m injecting. I said I could do it with the left hand. She pointed out that Shaking Shoulder Shirley, which was playing up a bit at the time, could still cause something to go awry.
She’ll assess things in the morning. Bring a new yellow safe-bin, and arrange for another INR blood test. The nurse reminded not to inject again tonight!
I thanked her, she left the bag of needs behind the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, rickety recliner, and off she went.
The BBQ pork steaks, Hickory seasoned baked beans, became my main aim, then! Hehe!
It didn’t take me too long to get it cooked, 40 minutes from start to finish. The bread had thawed-out alright, and was so soft and tasty.
The Iceland Egyptian seedless grapes were larger than the last lot I had, and a lot less sweet. But still tasted good to me, a little more tangy-taste to them! The Jenny-supplied lemon yoghourt was again great, tasty and a perfect finisher-offerer to the meal.
After destroying the meal, I got on with washing the pots, double-checked I’d taken the right medications, and settled down.
Great! I was soon off in the land of Sweet Morpheous!
