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Last night, I had just got to sleep, and 20 minutes later, I shot awake in some pain, with, of all things, agony with the Covid Booster arm. Followed seconds later by ... Hang on, I think I put this in the Thursday blog?
Anyway, it put an end to getting any sleep. I wanted to get on with blogging, but I could sit there in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, stewing in my thoughts, and I admit it, self-pity. I walloped some extra Codeine 30g down and took a dollop of Pentax in vain hopes of easing , but she didn’t have it. Why did I go 12 hours after getting the injection with no signs of discomfort? Then when I finally get to sleep 20 minutes later, this happens?
I did muster enough interest to take these three poor shots of the view from the kitchen window.
There was no way I could muster the interest to try and update the blog… which is not me! Out of desperation, I put on a Sherlock Holmes DVD. But, the interest was not there.
Nine hours later, blasted from the doorbell. It was a very tired-looking Carer Jodie who came in. Tired as she was, she listened to my tales of Woe regarding the Covid jab and giving me trouble. I sorted some treats out in thanks. Bless her!
The arm is not getting any easier yet… but has eased off a bit. When Jodie’d gone, I pulled myself together a bit. And decided to get make a start on the
The blood pressure had gone up a smidge into the Hypertension 1+ area.
I got a little interest coming back now, and I changed the colouring on the Inchcock graphic. and the head photo too.
What did I say a few minutes ago? About ? She’s kicking off again with venom. Naughty ! I really must stop showing signs of hope and thoughts of improvement and shut my cake-hole
The Body temperature was still low. Why? I don’t know.
When I went on the NHS grading and recording site, I decided to do a few extra days’ worths. To give a better picture of how things were going these last few weeks.
There seems to be more in the amber this last fortnight?
All to the good, methinks.
I set to do the updating of the Thursday blog. Not a lot to put on it, mind you.
But I still made plenty of grammatical errors in doing it and getting it posted to WordPress. I’m good at that!
As I was making a start on this post. You would believe how much worse turned.
No concentration now, so I tried to make a meal. But was unsure if could eat it. In a pickle mentally here! I’ll make a smaller meal. But it turned out a bit of a chore this time. The Asda Parmentier, as usual, varied in size so much there was no chance of baking them from the carton, and the larger ones had to be quartered, so they were all about the same size for cooking. So I got the chopping board and sharp knife out.
Rang out, and I went to investigate. It was an Amazon delivery. Two items this time.
A bag of kitchen towels, a big one as well.Slightly smaller towels, but handy for the nose-blowing and rectifications of any , and/ or blood escapages. Not a lot of people know that! Haha! And two of the electricity box openers, cheap as well, they were. £2.50 for the pair. Looking at them, one can see why they were seemingly such good value. Hehehe!
With perfect timing, what I call ‘s ‘Stop-Me-Sensing’ with the finger ends, which resulted in two little cuts in the finger, and the loss of many of the potatoes when the nerves were not telling the brain I wanted to touch or grab anything. In this case, the potatoes to cut! I was silly to carry on with it, really. Cause I know this usually lasts for a few minutes at most. But, no, stubborn me made such a mess that needed cleaning up, blood, spuds on the floor and a knocked-over oven tray… which cost me ten times as long as it would have if I’d just waited! I think (I do that occasionally, you know!) it may be a part of my pointless resistance to having Peripheral Neuropathy? Does that make sense?
About three hours after putting the meal in the oven, it took that long I had to reheat the potatoes in the microwave oven as I cooked the Frikadellens! Served it up and added the tomatoes and naughty pot of lemon yoghourt. It was an even smaller meal than I had planned; due to the PN-inspired dropping of about a third of the cooked potatoes on the floor.
Despite all the malarkey in getting it cooked and the wee-wees going on a six-count flourish of visits to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with plenty of PMD (Post-Micturition-Dribble) while I was supposed to eating it; I enjoyed it although it was colder than planned, there was less of it due to the many and multiple , so not as cold as it would have been, had I had a proper plateful… I’m getting confused here.
Chloe arrived. Advised her on the change in medications, which was prompted by my being given only one of the Lansoprozole capsules. With the agony of all the Angina attacks and getting the Doctor to listen to me, she doubled the dosage. No one had told Chloe. I’d written on the box in pen x2 now new dose. But obviously, she did not see it. I’ll have to speak to Richard on Monday; he is the one monitoring the medications. I got two boxes of Lansoprozole this month. so that’s good. Now I must let Meridian know about the two changes in doses. Cause the carers don’t all know. Not their fault. But I do not want to miss or have half of the Lansoprozoles while Anne Gyna is playing up so bad. Gave Sam a choice of treats, thanked her, and got ready to do battle with Sweet Morpheus again. Will he let me sleep tonight? I pray!