

Wednesday 25th March 2020
Ukrainian: Середа, 25 березня 2020 Pоку

02:35hrs: I awoke, still feeling a tad groggy and tired. I waited for the brain to engage gear and the fog to lift from the grey cells, and things became mentally at least, active! By the time I’d had an enthusiastic and satisfying itch around my massive, wobbly, overweight midriff, I recognised the urgent need to get myself to the wet room! So I did!
(As I now know, this was but the first trip of many to be made today! Oh, dearie me, yes!) The flow, yet again, began of the innards own accord. (It was close, but I made it in time, this time!) The evacuation contents reminded me of Brussel sprout sized clumps, that broke apart as they landed in the bowl with a series of splashes! Over quickly, no pain really at all! Not messy, and only the tiniest spot of bleeding. Even Little Inchies fungal lesion was leaking, but it was so minuscule. I distinctly recall, (and that in itself is a rarity!), thinking to myself as I cleaned things up; “Well if they are all like this, I’ll have no problems!” An acceptable session!
To the kitchen, and thought about the wonderful, kind help I’m received, prompted when I got the bottle of milk from the fridge, that Oberstgruppenfhureress Angela had arranged and one of the ladies had delivered to my door for me last night! Made a brew of Thompsons Punja tea.
I few moments of Mind-Thoughts blasting:
Spirits dipped a tad when I went to get the medications out of the draw. I am now taking the Warfarin doses blind. No blood test for weeks now, so obviously, I have no idea what amount I should be taking! At least if I am imbibing too much, it might just be cutting myself and bleeding to death, might happen if Little Inchies fungal lesion flows. Too little Warfarin, and a stroke, seizure or heart attack. But, of course, that’s providing that the Coronavirus doesn’t get me first! Or Duodenal Donald doesn’t burst open. Maybe Anne Gyna’ll get me? Or the mechanical ticker battery will run out? Or the blood cancer starts again? Perhaps, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters will go into complete failure? Or, the Peripheral Neuropathy may start an involuntary right leg Schuhplattler dance, when I’m crossing the road, and I’ll get squashed by a lorry? No, no, no! With the lock-down I’ll not be outside will I, and will there be any lorries on the road by then anyway? Ah, the part bullet still inside me might suddenly rust? Nae, its been no bother for donkey’s years. It’s a game innit? Hahaha! You’ve got to laugh!
By the time I’d stopped the Mind-Blast, the tea had gone cold. So I took the medications to the computer desk, oiled the ear-holes, creamed certain areas in need of the same, and made another brew. I noticed that I had acquired what looked like a scorch mark on my right hand? No doubt during a period of a Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failure and the nerves did not inform the brain.
Off to the computerisationing. I had to do a graphic, I had no choice in the matter, this idea came into my mind for a funny Coronavirus page top, I just had to get it completed while it was fresh in my mind.
Then, onto updating the Tuesday blog, but I had a look on the Emails first.
Fair enough!
I tried again to read my notes to use on the phone call with the help, from Angela.
But it was guesswork. Eventually, and it took me an aeon, I got the updating finished. Put some pics on Pinterest. Emailed the link to my vast number of followers, both of them!

Then, I realised I had still got the medications on the tray, not taken. Schmuck! I got them gathered but dropped a yellow Lansoprazole. It took me ages to find it (Well. I thought I had!) The struggle to get down once I did spot it, I used the new picker-upperer (Thanks again, Jenny!) and retrieved it. Struggled to get back up again, and then realised it was not a tablet at all, it was part of potato-chip! Most likely from one of my nocturnal-nibbling sessions). Which meant I had to continue searching for the capsule. It took me so long to find it, I was on the verge of giving up when I did. It must have bounced when I dropped it, cause it was about six foot away on the carpet near the balcony windows! The picker-upperer did its job again. The capsule was washed, and then, taken along with the other medications. What a faffling _art about!
Embarrassing
–
Odd that I should use the term I did there. Because that is the very thing that emitted from my innards moments later, a little sort of silent involuntary Plump, felt more than heard! I hastened to the Porcelain Throne, but didn’t make it in time! The evacuation again was under the control of my innards. Runny, messy, and smelly. Yet, still, the movement was painful? Had a shower and cleaned up, new PP’s on, and the trousers were thrown away, disinfected thoroughly, in a black bag on there own! Now my spirits sank, shame grew, and a despondency developed!
Eventually, I made a start on this blog. But with the indelicate, humiliating events, my heart had lost some pep. I pondered on what I had eaten that might have caused this worrisome trouble. I’m sure I’d taken nothing out-of-date food in? Ah, well! I was confident that this that diarrhorea is not on the Coronavirus symptoms list. I’ll check later. Diarrhorea Duncan came on suddenly. Things have gone from solid and reluctant, to the opposite in a matter of hours! Mmm!
I was taking some photographs from the window, and the first one was shot. With the aid of the step-ladder and a deal of nervousness (Hehe!), was down below the window on Chestnut Walk. Compared to the last such a shot (right), last weekend, there were more cars and fewer people in view!


I tried again at getting to book an order for Morrisons. But, although I was initially so pleased to be able to get on the site, there were no delivery slots available.
Mysteriously, they told me my trolley is currently £26.90 and contains 19 items?
I then read about Morrisons supplying £35 food boxes, £10 delivery. But could not get to find them on the site, of course.
One more into the breach, I tried for Iceland. Same thing. no slots available. It’s all frustrating and confusing… No, it’s not! Sorry.
From nowhere, disorientation and dizziness fell on me. I felt proper poorly. Then a coughing sneezing session. The guts rumbled, and hobbled off for the third trip to the Porcelain throne! By gum, Trotski Terence had taken over the tummy controls now! Eurgh! Most uncomfortable experience. Cleaning up was another big bother for me.
I gave up computing and any thoughts of mind control as the head spun.
Feeling almost exhausted, not able to take any interest in cooking or preparing fodder, I made a meal of sliced Piccolo tomatoes and the last but one Cox’s apple. I found a bag of crisps and had them with the so-called meal. No desire, hunger or need for more.
Computing left in a right state, I just stripped off, and got down in the recliner, put the TV on, and slowly nibbled at the food. The stomach-grinding began to ease off a little. But I felt so tired. The regular dropping off and waking a few minutes later went on for hours. I had no inclination to do or think about anything much when I was awake.
Then the shakes put an end to any thoughts of getting to sleep for hours. I thought the recliner would fall apart, or I might shake myself off of the chair! Hehehe!
What a pickle!
TTFNski, all the bestest each!





As the song, composed by Lionel Bart,
considering the text message that I got this morning, from Gov.UK. telling me I have to stay at home.
An email came in from Morrisons re today’s delivery. No bread today, and they couldn’t deliver an alternative? On the plus side, they are letting me have a 9-pack of toilet rolls. They do help though, and with sending little food, it should help my dieting, and I should not need so many toilet rolls. Good, innit! 
I wonder if I might try grilling some bits of the carpet? I’ve got some sauces I have with it, out of date, fair enough, but still. Hehe! The British sense of humour saves the day again! 
Todays ordered three weeks ago, Morrison delivery arrived. I got it put away, clandestinely, not showing the rolls through the window. I wish I’d got a safe now!
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.

Come back the next day for a refund? Mmm? I’m confused and befuddled!
I took a photo from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, new anti-photographer designed kitchen window. I would have taken a shot of Chestnut Walk below as well, but the giant window ledge makes me have to use the step-ladder to reach out for the picture taking. Humph!
As the meal was being served up, the intercom light flashed. I’m really glad I was in the kitchen at the time, cause the tune from the intercom wouldn’t have been heard with the fire door shut! It’s on its loudest setting too! It was an Amazon delivery chap, with the giant pack of instant potato-flakes that I’d ordered, at last! The man left them outside the door and had retreated to the lobby door, he shouted something I could not decipher, and I shouted a ‘Thank You’, as he ran off. And, I don’t blame him!
I opened the package, to reveal a ginormous bag of Maggi Potato Flakes. 4kg! Haha!
I got the meal served up. I have to say, that I am amazed at how well the Piccolo tomatoes have lasted, over a week now and they have no signs of shrivelling up yet? I wonder if they have been irradiated? The Flavour rating for this slowly eaten and enjoyed feast was 8.8/10! Baked beans with Hickory, smoked ready-cooked bacon (Sadly all gone now!), tomatoes and the really different and gorgeous Truffle Fries! Which I have acquired a strong proclivity for.
I took a photo of the pins (legs) as I took off the socks and trousers to get back in the recliner, I noticed how pale they looked compared to earlier? No way of guessing at why, with no Warfarin blood test results to assess with.




he newspaper shop as well. With a winning record of over 40%, you can’t blame him. He’s the only bloke I know who makes a profit on the lottery. So it’s just as well he is a born philargyrist. I am awful!
kettle on. (I good at this. Har-har!)
even more tablets mixed in different days and stuck, hidden underneath the cellophane, than last weeks did! You’ve got to admit, that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2D, are a cut above other bad chemists, with their consistently uncaring nature, and dedication to crap, life-threatening service. Just thought I’d mention them, in case I forgot to earlier. I’d hate to die through taking the wrong medications, and them to get away scot-free with it!
Turned everything off, and got the Ablutions sorted out. What a miracle session! Only one shaving cut and four dropsies. The Sock-Glide battle was a draw! Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bloodless as well!
and I listened to the Intercom ringing. I had to tell Jane and ring off; it was someone from the Falls Team arriving. He asked me to do a survey and questionnaire (these seem to be coming in thick and fast!) Tsk! Off he trotted, telling me the paperwork will be posted to me?



so it seemed, anyway. A regular Sherwood pavement cyclist I noticed over the road, had been joined, by a young make oink of a scooter-rider today.
I guessed that the L9 would not be on time with all the roadworks the poor drivers have to put up with. I began to talk with a lady who arrived, and the stuttering was still with me. 
I later found these pictures I’d taken of the food I’d bought. But can I remember taking them? No!
Then got the meal served up. This turned out to be a Flavour Rating of 9.25/10 dinner! Not perfect, the sweet potatoes somewhat burnt, but that suited me, they tasted wonderful! The beetroots were well-cooked and soft! The brown tomatoes, peas, mushrooms delightful! The pretend fish and leeks were also lip-smackingly good! And, I think the few anchovies, and the Marmite cheese, rounded things off nicely? 


01:10hrs: Once again, the sleep came in sessions of a few minutes, struggling to get back to kip, and waking-up again. I’m getting fed up with this. So very Agravannoying! I gave up trying to sleep, and rose from the second-hand, £300 recliner, that Brother-in-law Pete broke while he was flat sitting and stealing my valuables and cash. A rarity of late, a wee-wee was needed. So, I got the stick, caught my balance and hobbled quite quickly to the wet room. I noticed that the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) had not been used yestereve again. 
The stinging from Little Inchies fungal lesion as easing off, at least. I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and decided to move the trousers and other handwashing from yesterday, near the heater now they were only damp, they would not leak onto the wall heater.
I checked out Little Inchies Fungal lesion, and I was so pleased to see things had not restarted bleeding. I removed the Alginate dressing, (There went my pretending to be well-endowed!)
Back to the near cold tea, and started to do some work on the CorelDraw, to make a page top graphic. This took me over an hour, which was too long. I must think about this graphicationalisationing lark, enjoyable to me as it is doing them, I can no longer cope with them. After which I started on the updating of the Thursday blog. 

Some other residents arrived while I was outside. Welsh William, who lept an eye on me in case the door swipe would not let me back in, and the bookies dread, Malcolm sat with two other unknown to me tenants, and they had a chinwag while waiting to go out for the bus. I went to join in, but it became apparent that my having to keep moving to avoid Arthur Itis’s knees stiffening, and sadly my Stuttering Stephany affliction, was not appreciated. So, I left them to it and poddled to Winchester Court. Plenty of folk about, but none of them was interested in a chinwag. The thought of going out in the ‘Get-You-Wet’ rain for the bus didn’t encourage any nattering.
I got off the bus last on Parliament Street. Just as well I did alight last, I might have got crushed or trampled in the mad rush off of the vehicle!
I tried to get under shelter to take the Slab Square photos. You would not believe how cold the fingers were, and I had just removed the woolly gloves to take this picture of them poor digits.
I got to the Queen Street bus stop, and Shirley joined me. We nattered and caught the bus home. She wisely sat at the back of the bus, so, no nattering again. Out came the crossword book, this time with a modicum of success! My pedagogical limitations on other clues were there normal sort of, ‘Blankness’ mode. Many of the unfinished puzzles were tackled again, but my failure caused dysbulia, and I gave up!
As usual, I got off of the bus at Winwood Heights last. The others who got off first were encouraged by the wind and rain to shoot inside rapidly. 
and. Dettol disinfectant, disposable razors, spray bleach, and sliced Wholemeal rolls. Then the Bargain Shop purchasers: The brown extra-large Throw, Woolite Dark, Oxo vegetable cubes, a jar of beetroot, and a pair of scissors. 
