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Having woken up with the carer hovering over me, lovely gal, I could not get back to sleep afterwards. Clumpnangles! So I got the Thursday blog finished and posted off. Now it is about 01:45hrs, and I’ve got an Iceland order coming in the morning… Will I wake up to hear the intercom? No chance of hearing it if I’m asleep… Oh, dear… Ah well, better try to get the head down again! No, not 
yet… I’ll get the Blood Pressure done now; save time in the morning! Does that make sense? I booted up the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, 
China. SIA 150, DIA 63 and the Pulse at an agreeable 80.
Then the body temperature was taken with the contactless machine. Oh yes, another good figure recorded. I put the figures on the NHS DVT site.
Botherations! 
or Cataract Cathy, maybe both of them, made me put in the wrong figure for the pulse, 60 instead of 80. And now it’s gone to the monitoring station. I’m gonna look fool again! Mind you that comes easy to me, being a fool. I’ll ring them later in the morning, maybe send an email pointing out my cock-up. Worded differently, though. Tsk!
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and I realised I had not unlocked the door, so made my way, rather easily actually, barely hobbling to the door and opening it… noticed that I had not got any trousers on! I hid behind the door and told Carer Valerie of my predicament. Grabbed a towel from the airer to cover my privates (although a postage stamp would have sufficed) and went into the junk room to get some trousers on. I 
think I heard Valerie saying, “That’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll wait here…”
Fumbling to get the trews on as quickly as possible; resulted in a stubbed toe and bruised shoulder. Tsk! Valerie got the medications sorted out, and gave me a minute or two chinwagging, Bless her. She didn’t fancy a nibble or drink this morning. Thanked her and apologised for the lack of clothing, and started to explain about it and she was sympathetic I think, telling me again ‘Not to worry’♥
Back on the computer getting the blog start prepped for an hour or so, and out burst ♫ Oh, Susana ♫. It was the Iceland delivery. When I got the door open, the bags had been left handily for me to gag them in. Fair do’s to the lad, when he saw my stick and me limping, (stubbed toe the cause) he asked it I wanted him o put them through the door for me. But the lad had kept the good all neat, and I could see nothing crushed or any leaks, and he arrived on time and thought I’d best not delay him after he’s made the effort, so I replied, “No thanks, I can get them in one at a time, cheers!”
I regretted saying that afterwards. Hehehe! I banged my shoulder again, starting off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley this time as I got the bags into the kitchenette and the beer into the junk room. With the massive 
increases in the cost of the G&T’s etc., I thought I’d tempt them with the Heineken lager instead.
Iceland sent all the bread ordered today. Silly me was sure there were going to be unavailable, as there normally is… But no, not today. So I had a heck of a job, reshuffling the freezer contents to make room to get all the cobs and bread in it. At least I won’t run out of bread for a while. Haha!
I’d only got two frozen items ordered. One pot of my favourite No-Moo ice cream and some No-Meat mushroom steaks to try. They were not cheap. I had to take them 
out of the box to get them into the fridge, and that the box they came in; could have been half the size it was, and there would still have been room in it for the miniature-sized diddly mushroom steaks. I just hope that they are tasty enough to be worth it!
Getting the fresh stuff in the fridge was even more difficult to achieve. As you can see on the right here, there was not a lot of spare room left spare!
I did manage to put a couple of the bottles in there in case the Carer of the day or evening fancies a cold lager.
I assembled all the rubbish and mess that I’d made during the food delivery and the sorting it out.
As I got out of the door into the three flats foyer, the noise from nowhere and everywhere was going off. It sounded the same as it the other day, and confusing it was! To me, it sounded like a machine running, like s giant sewing machine. To Josie, it sounded like a drilling noise. And if both Josie and I can hear it, it must be loud. Neighbour Malcolm gave a different thought; he said it was like rushing water.
I got to the. I got into the lift lobby to go to the waste chute room at the far end, and I swear it was louder than ever.
All a part and parcel of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!
I got back in the flat and had a wee-wee; I’ve not mentioned them yet, but they were regular if short ones.
I had a wash, and I checked out the ankle and legs. Apart from a little bloating on the right foot, they were so much better than yesterday. Which made a nice change.
On the computer, I made a start on the Local News Snippet blog, then started this one going. Again, the time has vanished; it’s 13:00hrs already? I thought I ought to get on the WordPress Reader to catch up on others’ blogs posted. So, I did!
He’s of again, bang, thud, clang. Tap-tapping. I wouldn’t be the same living here if wasn’t up there above me, with his mechanical operas keeping me company.
Got the new spuds in the saucepan. Then quartered some large mushrooms, seasoned them and got them going in the crock pot. I seemed to be doing well and considered going into a Smug-Mode.
Buy, my EQ warned me against doing so, so I didn’t. Seconds later, I found out why…
Getting the tomatoes out of the fridge, and at just the wrong moment, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley ensured the tomatoes ended up on the floor. As I moved to try to catch some, I trod on one! so…
I only went down on one knee this time, but it was Cartilage Kathy’s right one, and ever since, she’s been showing her displeasure at my actions, in the form of stinging a fair bit when I move, stand up, or bend the knee. Hey-Ho! I rubbed in a load of Phorpain Gel.
Got down in the c1962 recliner, and I kept a keen eye on the timing for the fodder cooking. Most importantly… and the difficult bit in staying awake! But I managed it and was soon getting the nosh served up and cleaning the mess I’d made. It’s becoming a habit lately, making messes and having Accifauxpas when cooking?)
The meal on the tray balanced dangerously on the folds on my stomach flab. Everything on display looked divinely appealing. Apart from the first time tried, No-Lamb lamb steaks had been tried before, and nothing let me down. The expensive No-Lamb Lamb steaks were okay. But not worth the money. They were not as good as the No-Meat Burgers I usually have. But Iceland doesn’t even have them on the list for sale now; I hope they get some more in soon. Humph! Anyway, I gave this pone a Taste-Rating of 9.2/10!
I put the tray on the carers table and promptly drifted off into a much-needed sleep… But not for long; half an hour later, the ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ tune awakened me with a shock!
Joseph arrived. At least I had some trousers on. No top clothing, though; I think the grossness of my blubbery stomach shook him a bit. Hahaha! Poor lad. Got the meds sorted, and I offered Joseph a drink or nibble in thanks, and he refused them – that’s Valerie then Joe? Wished him a good evening as he departed with the waste bag for the bin. (I remembered to ask him to take the bag tonight) I locked the door and climbed back into the recliner to get back to sleep.
A futile effort in my gaining any time with Sweet Morpheus. I lay there, well, getting up a few times for a wee-wee, for an hour or two, then got up and back on the computer to update this blog and then lay out the Snippets one. Did the Ode below and got it on. Then posted it off to WordPress.
I made so many mistakes in getting this ode from CorelDraw into this blog that I got the first verses out of sync. But it’s now 00:45hrs, and am so tired. Luckily this ode is so bad, that you may not notice. Hehehe!
PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to complete its dribbling mission. 
During one of the sojourns to the grey plastic bucket, I realised how easier the ankle and foot felt. Several more wee-wees were needed, thankfully without the PMAD. So got the cannon, turned on the flash, and took a photo. That ointmentating last night has done me a lot of good!
I gave up on getting more sleep, and I got up around 06:00hrs and got the medical box out. Started. I got the readings and tool the usual photographicalisations of them, but they were not to be found on the camera card later? Nor last night’s nosh, either? A good job I wrote down the numbers; sometimes I don’t, just use the photo I’d taken. Input the results as above right. The BP was up a fair bit, the pulse a smidgeon, and the body temperature once again OK! Made the graph and waddled off into the kitchenette to get the first brew of the day going. I opted 
for Thompsons’ Punjana with semi-skimmed milk (that’s all I had in!). I saw a mass of smoke coming up from the far distance. In the Basford area, I think. But remembered abbot the card not taking photos. So took out the card to check the lock button, blew into the card holder slot, and reinserted it. Back to the window, and the smoke had got a lot less. I could see the blue lights flashing around the area. 
Started on the WP comments; well, I got one anyway. And the JS order arrived nice and early.
there is another heat wave, no doubt the panic buying will start again. The man out the stuff in the hallway for me.
bleach. Tomatoes with basil and something else I can’t make out? More stuff; bananas, fresh pod peas, yellow tomatoes, and fish-free fish sticks. Strawberries and
down later on to the Wardens holding cells for them.
Back to the blogging, and just as I started getting somewhere: Smoke & Mirrors Man Mr Fries Liberty-Global, Virgin Media died a death again! More time lost! Still, it may be an integral part of one of his ambidextrousness, chicanery, and self-financial-defence mechanism? 
Started getting a little persistent again. He must have a big order on for some school or church? He reminds me of Harold Shipman without his beard.
All I did was turn in the swivel chair to stand up, and an instant loss of balance hit me! Bounced off of the recliner, which was good, cause its well-padded. Rolled and gently plopped onto the floor, hitting my head on the table leg.
Tons of pod peas, nothing but the best…
The ulcer was looking a bit pink…
One letter was from the bank, the TSB…
I look a little like I was growling?
I was overjoyed that it was won by Germany!
medicate than the lesion would have been. The toes and chin were enough to keep my attention.
The Blood Pressure sphygmomanometerisationing was yet another great set of results: SYS 44, DIA 62 and the Pulse, a smidgeon up, at 91 bpm! 
I got the computer on to finalise yesterday’s blog and found the SD car was reading again? I swiftly got the few, well, three photos from yesterday that I could not get on done. Then titivated the blog and felt a smidge smug, but what with my luck in waking up and thudding to the floor, I thought it best not to get too confident.
I am walking much better this morning after the initial waking-up boo-boo! Not having to walk on the heels today shows how the swelling has gone down in the legs and feet.
Noise merchant Herbert from the flat above kicked off with his tap-tapping, the odd thud, and scuffing noises thrown in. He kept it u[ for hours on and off. He must have a special job lined up? Hello, I think he just dropped a box of tools. Ah, the drilling and grating noises have started now; he must be getting on with it, bless him. Back to the tap-tapping again…
twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs.
Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons 
Signature tea. 
had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)
The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.
Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.
Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.
Ah, this I can… 
the swine!
Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.
The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.
When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… 
Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a 
scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway. 
Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.
I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.
Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.
I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated
I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and 
As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!
I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.
This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down. 
I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s 
reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.
The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.
Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no! 
While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging 
for it, internet supply?
the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).
The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.
Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…
Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.
Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…
Got the meal prepared and served up. Cheesy topped halved boiled potatoes, baked off to crisp the red Leicester cheese. Veggie sausages, baked beans with Henderson’s relish added, wholemeal cobs, tomatoes, and a banana.
Halfway through it and watching a Heartbeat episode on the box, I was in my element
With its pink-tinged coloured streaky clouds, the sky looked absolutely amazing to me tonight. 
We need to start straight away protecting this planet. We’ve polluted it uncaringly, not a thought for the future generations… if there is to be any. And all for gain and personal profit. So shadow-benders and number-crunchers like Mr Fries can earn $23 million a year, and Putin can do a Hitler in attacking other countries! Nowadays, he is doing it risk-free. No Americans to save the day for Ukraine, like they did for the UK, France, Poland etc., sad.
to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.
Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come 
round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.
Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!
Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.
Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.
I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?
I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.
Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.
After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas. 
I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.
The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…
I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!
Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.
Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?
But my dithering nature interfered, and I took the waste bin out of the wet room, emptied the others and made up some waste bags. Took them to the flat door.
It was drizzling outside, and as I put the kettle on, I took a photo of the road to the left of the kitchenette window. Plenty of trees on it ge
The skies were, I thought, ripe for a few minutes of pareidolia. I’m keen on finding figures in the clouds. But on this occasion, I failed to find any. Humph!
Well, once again, it was a fair session. Fair enough, a few teeny-weeny cuts shaving, but no knocks and bangs, dizzies, toe-stubbings or tumbles. I didn’t engage the Smug-Mode… it’s early yet. 
Sunday’s photograph of the messy mud-slide onto the end car park on Chestnut Way. It has been known for Cataract Kathleen to do this to me! I hope I’ve not put this one on before?
This is this morning’s shot of the same area. I found some more of the indecipherable scrawl on the memory pad here, not the foggiest of what it meant. Try as I did, it remains a mystery,
A sudden robust rumbling from the innards! I was all but too late, getting to the Throne in time in seconds. Trotsky Terence controlled the evacuation. Gawdawfull messy it was! Had to change the PPs (Protection Pants) I’d put on an hour ago! Ah, well, I got everything cleaned up.
Richard arrived late; he’d had a lousy shift, I think. The poor lad looked done in. He still had a look at the SD card for me. Putting it in and out to see if anything changed; and found that the card had split! He took the waste bags out with him for me, with my thanks.
I hope the new card works in the Canon and the reader accepts it. 
here, it worked.
Outside my Winwood Heights Independent Living block of flats, I hobbled out onto the balcony to look at what was. Conducted my Blood Pressure and temperature checks. SYS 154, DIA 68, Pulse 78, and the body temperature was a decent 34.1°c.
A couple of miles away, I took a zoomed-in shot of HMP, her Majesties Nottingham Prison. And thoughts and questions permeated through… “I bet they can see their prison Doctor or Dentist at any time?”, “They’ll get their cataracts done quicker than I get mine!” “They are not worried about the rent, electricity, food, transport, bus fares, etc. going up?” “Most likely, get their free computers mended for free!” They’ll not worry about forgetting to lock their doors either! Hahaha!
Gawd, he’s been at it again, almost one-stop since morning. Bang, tap-tap, scrape, thud, boing… I did not retaliate. After all, what is the point in haggling with the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, and ineffable, cruel, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy nasty man?
As luck has it, I like him.
Within about ten minutes, I settled for Thursday, when the foot lady texted me telling me I was late for my appointment again… that was in the brain box! I engaged my Sherlock Holmesian Methodology, and first, I worked out when I last went out. Now, what was I wearing? Maroon jacket? Blur jacket? Black trousers, or green trousers? Was I wearing my trousers – nobody said anything.
Well, now I was getting hot under the collar! I smugly checked through every pocket and the bag… not sausage in there. (Not that I was after one, of course, a figure of speech and all that).
I rummaged, rooted and ferreted about, delving into the most unlikely of places, all to no avail. Then a spark in the brain suggested that it may have fallen and gone underneath the cabinet or recliner? Worth a look, so I did…
Arrived, soon sorted. Then, I had a go at catching up on Facebooking. Then comments on WordPress.
Veggie burger, fries, tomatoes and some sugar snap crap Ecuadorian peas. I realised a small stale cake and an out-of-date, but I could not see the date, and tasting it realised it was rancid. The banana was okay, though. However, despite these minor upsets, the flavour rating given was 6.5/10.
I thought, but I was wrong!
After a terrible, almost sleepless night, I burst into life with a jump, and I soon realised Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding, I wanted a wee-wee, and the innards were rumbling away something awful. I thought this was a fine kettle of fish to greet the day… Worse was to come…
Leaving myself in a bit of a pickle… I needed the wee-wee, could feel the warm wetness in the PPs from the lesion, and there I was, struggling to get back up from the sharp landing on my bum, and felt Harold Haemorrhoids bleeding. Now as well! 
Heck of a long job, but I cleaned things up, medicated Harold’s Haemorrhoids with Germoloid 
ointment, and used Daktacort cream on Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The most painful of all the ailments to clean and medicate! Argh! But it has to be done. 
I set too on the crossword and finished it ultimately. T’was nothing to a man of my calibre! I finished one in 1972 as well… Mind you, I sat there for over an hour in hopes that the half-in, half-out situation with the rear end would flow again. Humph!
I decided to get the ablutions done as I was already in there. Mind you too early for a shower; the noise would wake the late sleepers. Things felt a bit better after that. 
let me carry anything, and we made out way back up to the flat. He took the parcels and put them in the kitchenette for me. Bless him. I started to sort out the 
fodder. Only a few things for the freezer. Fries, leeks and waffle 
bites… 
the fridge, which ended up rather full.
I’d overdone the desserts, and a box of cakes I ordered, apparently, I did not even like. There were no flowers available for Jenny and Francis’ treats, most annoying. But they did send the strawberries for them. 
I made up two bags on nibbles, sorry about not getting any daffodils for them. 
I dropped off the waste bag down the chute and made my way back to the flat. During which it dawned on me how few times in the last hours, I’ve needed a wee-wee? Also, the balance had improved… it’s a funny old life!
By the time I got back into the apartment, I realised what time it was. four PM! 16:00hrs! Late afternoon, and I had not even started on this blog yet! Everything takes so much longer to get done nowadays.
I got the blood pressure and temperature taken. While I remembered that it hadn’t been done yet. 
The Blood Pressure returns via the 
Well, it went pretty well! An excellent start to the days’ activities. There is no bleeding, not too much-forcing things to kick-off moving, and minimal pain. It was one of the easiest evacuations for a while. Just a little Dizzy Dennis visit as I was rising from the Throne. Fetched the togs and towel into the wet room and stripped ready for a stand-up wash, shave, teggies, etc. It was too early to use the shower yet, for fear of disturbing other tenants with the noise of the shower unit.
It may surprise you, it did me… not a single cut! Got the body scrubbing done without anything untoward occurring and then washed the delicate areas. 
Bit of bad news here, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding, so a painful experience had to be endured. This month, the Daktacort ointment had been swapped for a new one on the prescriptions. So, never having used this brand before, I gritted my teeth and agonisingly (Phimosis) made room for the ointment to be smoothed into the wound… 
So, I went on the balcony and took a photo of the end car park, curious to see how the red van man had parked… Blimey, another red vehicle, had parked in red-van mans’ usual illegal parking space on the chevrons.
Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The bottle dropped when Peripheral Pete gave me a shaking, straight down spraying water all over me, my socks and trousers onto the floor; Trying to catch the bottle, I fell knocking over the waste bin and clunked Cathy Cartilages knee as I hit the deck! Carer Chaymae got me back on my feet and picked up the now almost empty from a full water bottle, Tsk! The gal departed with a treat in thanks from me.
It didn’t help to listen to the bang-bang-away Herbert while I was tensed up. 
I called at Josies’ again, and she answered this time, what a revelation this was to me, Humph! I mumbled an apology, and I explained my idiocy in forgetting, and she was very calm about it and asked: “Did you forget to put your clock forwards?” This made me feel a bigger plonker than I already felt! I’d forgotten about the clock changing again this year, fell arse over tit, lost my reading glasses, the internet was crashing all the time, I could feel the blood coming from Little Inchies Lesion! I was not feeling too proud of myself at all!
and ready for delivery.
Now, I need to unwind… ah, an odd choice of words that. But it reminded me I had to change the three watches, put them forward an hour. Crap, lost another hour! Hehehe!
Fish tea prepped and served. And I tucked into it with a relish, and I gobbled up the lot of it. Slowly, to get satisfaction from the delightful taste. Heap flavourful! A rating of 804/10, given.
The darkness dawned as I was washing the pots, and I managed to get a shot of the sun setting, which only lasted for about three minutes? I was beginning to feel a little cheerier when…
I stirred from my slumber, almost in a nonchalant mood? I worked out what day to was, and would usually have Thought-Storms, worries, fears, on my waking up – But not this morning! I felt in a laid-back sort of mood, which is something preciously rare for me. I can’t remember the last time they were absent when I was recovering consciousness. 
Had a wee-wee, made a mug of Glengettie tea, and onto the computer… The Crabnabbed computer, which had had a dreaded windows update, would not let me get any photos recognised again! This really got to me. It confirmed the return on fretting and frustration were fermenting again! Took a picture of the end car park. If the computer lets me, I’ll have to add it later on, fingers crossed.
The innards gave off a rumbling, squelching sound. 
I felt somewhat cocky as I left the wet room, which will probably account for how I managed to get the walking stick entangled in the stand-up clothes airer; we both ended up on the floor in the hallway! I had to go on my hands and knees into the front room, and I used the rickety recliner to get back on my feet. But, no injuries, other than a knock on the elbow. Even Cartilage Cathy didn’t complain when I clunked down on the knee? It’s a funny old life, innit?
Carer Pricella arrived. A pretty sweet thing, she was made most welcome. She soon had the medications sorted. She kindly gave me a couple of minutes of waffling time and took the bags with her to the chute for me on her way out! 💜
I tended full time to prepping Josies’ nosh then.
side treats and gin.
I’d better get my nosh sorted. Battered fish with chilli, BBQ chips and a can of garden peas, methinks… but anything could happen. Better get a move on, or the Carer might get here while I’m scoffing.
Carer Julia came in; I didn’t hear the chimes, the ears are getting worse? 
The brain failed to fully engage! For I somehow found myself in the spare room sorting out the bag for Independent Living Coordinator, Warden, and desk-top dancer, Obersturmbannfuhreress Deana. Wondering why I’d done this before having a wee-wee or even putting the kettle on to make a brew of tea confused me. (Doreen?)
I had a wee-wee and checked on Little Inches fungal lesion (itching a bit). But it was not bleeding, I just cleaned things up and applied some teeth-grindingly painful ointment to the affected area. Argh!
mentally crippling at times today. So annoyingly so, as well.
The SYS was not too bad. Pulse at 90, up a bit.
Humph! I did drop the darned BP machine as I was putting it away! Tried it out again, nervous of it being 
buggered, but it worked okay. Used the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. The surface temperature read as 34.5°c. A bit higher this time. Good!
05:45hrs: As I got up to go for a wee-wee, right-loud clunking noises came from the flat above! I think Herbert must have had an Accifauxpa of his own. Didn’t bother me, mind; I was up anyway. I don’t think it was loud enough to be heard by anyone else who might have been trying to sleep. Not that the sanctified, consecrated, uncommunicative, ascetic, aloof, sniffy Herbert would be bothered.
Around 06:00hrs, I spotted the moon through the balcony doors, peeping through the thick clouds. So I searched and found the Canon camera, which I’d left on top of the microwave, and spent some time taking many 
snaps of the moon. Determined to try and get some decent ones this time.
that came out fairy acceptablyish. At least, I hope so.
The landline flashed and rang. It was from Natalie of the Health 7 Social Care team, called Meridian. To explain to me that they (Meridian) had had another no show, and my Carer should arrive by 09:00hrs. Nay fuss! Fair enough, at least they let me know.
Carer Elena arrived and looked after me in a caring and attentive way. (I loved that! Hehehe!) She had been called out to cover for the absentee. Elena Took the waste bags to the shute on her way out for me.
.
To done-in mentally to do any more blogging now. I got the ablutions tackled. Aye… Worra good session it wor! One little cut shaving, a very minor toe-stubbing, and no falls, walking into anything either! Medicated, refreshed, into the new PPs, night attire donned, and off to get summat to eat.
The thud, thudding started from above, so at least I know Herbert hasn’t snuffed it. Shame!
My only success of the day… Cheesy baked potatoes and sausages. Sound like nothing special? But I altered the recipe I usually use to make these treats this time.
Only a few wakings up during the night. I’m well pleased with that, but, on the fifth…
I more or less sort of bolted into wakefulness. Full of misapprehension, a muddled state of mind, and in desperate need of a wee-wee! Don’t know why I mentioned it now. Although it’s been this way for over a week now…
Then, an explosion of gas had burst free! Obviously, I didn’t see it, but I got the feeling that it had caused ripples on the water in the bowl. Instant relief of the pains! Within seconds a mammoth, rock-solid torpedo slowly, very slowly forced its way out, hitting the water before it was entirely out of the bum?
There was no discomfort with it at all? AS I stood up, the stool moved, and splash and clunk were heard… well, I think they did. No mess whatsoever. Mind you, there wouldn’t have room alongside that missile!
Got a good wash and beclothed my body. I went to make a brew of tea. 
One of the pictures came out in a different size to the others? 
My progress on blogging has never been harder work than it is today. I am so frustrated.
I made a meal of sorts, potatoes, a small microwave BBQ burger, and a lemon cheesecake. Nowt fancy, but I needed rest and sleep so much by then. Still, I did enjoy it, such as it was. Taste-Rating: 7.5/10.
Half-an-hour later, ♫ Oh Susana ♫ rang out as the Carer entered the flat. Carer Fria Freestone, at least I think it was. Fria soon got the medications sorted in a matter of fact way; she chose her treat; drink (Tequila) and nibble (Easter egg), and was soon off, bless her.