To make the bestest ever chilli bean con-carne for Josie!
I awoke, full of youthful spring, on a high!
Jumped out of the recliner, nice and spry,
I moved so quickly, my body sinewy…
Then I wondered, why? Why why?
It was cause I was dreaming… So that was a lie!
Woke up proper, and the feet were aglow,
Red they were, great; I sang a divertimento…
No pains or pot-marks on foot or toe…
No bloating at all, although…
I’ll not get excited; I’ll see how it does go!.
The moon still just glowing, up in the sky,
I tried to take a good photo, I did try…
But they didn’t come put well, Sigh!
I was not disappointed enough to cry!
Washed and got on the computer to work,
Got to start this blog; I will not shirk…
Even if I get it wrong, and feel a burke!
But it took me seven hours to do, what a twerk!.
Can you see no lousy parking in the end car park?
First time for over a week now,
Spying on neighbours… innit a lark?
But I enjoy doing it somehow!
Started to prep Josies’ meal, with assiduousness,
How it will come out, tinged with capriciousness,
My determination was keen, even veracious!
I pressed on, for once not losing my focus,
Took my time conscientiously, no rush…
Sister Jane rang me, thus the distractedness,
But lovely to chinwag, even with partial deafness,
Tasted the progressing food with curiousness…
Oh, to my tastebuds, a lovely flavour did gush!.
Gave it some tweaks…
Beef, beans, Tomatoes, peppers, and leeks,
Best I’ve made for weeks…
Added some sliced steaks…
And, no cuts on the knife, for heavens sakes!
Saying that, as one of my renowned mistakes!.
Stabbed missen with the skewer, what a clot!
But it didn’t bleed a lot,
Then burnt my finger, the pan was hot!
Then dropped a shallot…
Also forgot to put in the carrot!
Oh, that was three things on the trot!
Still, I dun well don’t yer think…What?
All ready to dish up anytime now, success!
Oh, I hope it shows taste and deliciousness,
I got it served on the tray with daintiness…
Nothing too much bother for Josie’s,
Determination today was dauntless!
My search for perfection was ceaseless!.
Got it delivered, without any clumsiness,
She liked the look of the food, and thus…
Had a little chat, and Josie took in in a rush!.
I was contented with my actions taken thus,
Onto the computer, and I got an afflatus…
I’ll do the blog before cooking my potatoes,
But there came a sudden hiatus!
Rushed to the Throne, but twas not calamitous,
Twas a long, challenging evacuation, somewhat circuitous,
The crossword book nearby, that was fortuitous,
Pain, messy, the Germoloid was medicamentous,
All done, left feeling I’d done summat momentous…
And found another bill from the dentist had been sent to us!
Just took a tumble going to start my meal prepping.
I got cooking this wrong, no idea why!
I forgot the mushroom, chestnut fungi,
It looked fine. I used the usual formulae,
The meat tasted awfully dry,
Tasteless spuds, my culinary skills died?
Thank heavens Josies tasted good; that, I can verify!
Arrivua… Ariverderc... Arf Weider… Cheers!
Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales Of True Woe Series
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!
03:35hrs: I woke, and almost automatically heaved my massive, ponderosity of a stomached torso, free of the recliner. It all went so well? Well, apart from it taking a while for the brain to join with my volumingargantuan body into activity.
As I made my way hobblingly to the wet room for an SWWW (Sprinkly-Weak-Wee-Wee), I noticed that Arthur Itis’s knees, were again not very hurtful, just remarkably stiff, and lumpy. The feet and uncut toenails were still painful.
This was when I realised I’d made a cock-up yesterday, in forgetting to ask Supermodel and Warden, Obergruppenführeress Deana, to call the clinic and Dentist for me! Thunderbogworthy Idiot! Washed my hands and contact points wiped with antiseptic, and off to the kitchen.
Took a shot of the morning view, and made a brew, caramelised biscuits, I ate a few. Hehehe! Then, it was the Health Checks to do.
The sphygmomanometer worked on the first try. The results were okay. The Sys was a tad high, but it’s been much higher in the last week. The thermometer gave me a real reading this time, 68.5°.
I made a mental note of what needed cleaning and sorting attentions in the kitchen. (I doubt if there was much commitment, though!) To the computer and got started on updating the Monday post.
For the whole time I was doing the updating, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, failed only twice! Mind you, the twitching from the most annoying Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was an ominous sign. She’s back, and building up, ready to create havoc at a later time. Trust me on this!
The morning had brightened up! The sky was cloudless, which means something, but I can’t remember what it is. (Haha!)
I limped to the kitchen again; unfortunately, I used the multi-pronged walking stick!
As I was making a brew of Glengettie tea, a painful Accifauxpa took place. Argh! I caught the standing upright four-pronged walking stick, as I returned from getting the milk from the fridge, it went over, I couldn’t stop it in time with the milk in my hand, and the handle part of the stick landed right on my right foot’s little toe! Gluglegnatsworth!
Grumbles and silently swore a little, then back to the computer. Then I went on the WordPress Reader section. Later on Winwood Heights and TFZer Facebooking.
It looks like it might warm up a bit later. The sun is breaking through now.
Yet another decentish ablutioning session! Not all good, mind, of course. Doing the teeth and it restarted Toothache Thomas off. A few dropsies here and there. No dizzies suffered in the shower! Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley and Saccades Sandra tried to get me going, but I wasn’t going to have it today! No cuts shaving! Doing the medicating went injury-less, (A couple of dropsies, mind) I got dressed without any bother as well! Smug-Mode-Defcon-2 Adopted!
The pins looked like the veins were about to erupt again, in the feet as well. Still, can’t complain, they’ve been pretty good for several days. To say this morning they looked so pale, they had got some colour now. This might be because of the hot shower?
Out, and sorted some waste bags and took them to the chute. Back to the flat, and took an extra painkiller. Toothache Thomas was throbbing again. Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and let it cool before eating it, no, I mean drinking, to avoid bothering the tooth.
Answered some comments on WordPress, and the landline burst forth. It was Lab-top Dancer, ILC and Warden, Unterscharführeress Deana, doing her weekly check to see if I am still alive (Hahaha!). I asked although I struggled with Stuttering Stephanie; if Deana could help me with the Flat Insurance renewal paperwork and ringing them. I meant to ask her if she’d mind ringing the Sherwood Health Centre as well, to see if the foot lady is cutting nails again yet, but I was having a job getting my words out and forgot to ask. Bless, she’s coming later sometime to help with the insurance, I must remember then.
I went on CorelDraw to make up some much-needed graphics. After an hour or so, and one graphics being done, I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I reckon that Thompsons tastes even better when drunk from this particular mug. No idea why, though.
As I was trying to take the hump out of the carpet, the intercom flashed and I even heard it today! Despite the ‘Horrible Hum’ outside and all around, having started to get louder than ever. Another Mystery!
The new to me, phlebotomy nurse introduced herself, and she was soon up at the flat door. She straightened the carpet for me, bless her. Took the blood, and I offered her a can of G&T, in thanks and appreciation. Which she refused at first. Until she saw it was not lemonade, but a tin of Looch (Gin & Tonic), being well mannered, I offered the lady a low cal or ordinary one. A lovely nurse, I took to her straight away. She was in a rush, as they all are, sadly nowadays. She’d been delayed with having trouble finding the flats, bless her.
Back to the CorelDrawing. Didn’t get far, but another one more done.
An early nosh was prepared. Fries, Frankfurters, crispy onions, potato salad, tomatoes, and a few left-over new potatoes. Lemon mousse, and an apple pie.
Very toothsome! Flavour rating 7.5/10.
Washed the pots and got down to watch the TV.
Within minutes, I was off and into the land of Sweet Morpheous! Marvellous!
Sometime later, I’m not sure when the Landline flashed and sounded. I struggled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not working, rickety recliner and over to the landline. Stuttering Stephanie was with me, so much repeated questions for clarification from me, followed. It a lady from the Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Unit, about the Warfarin INR test level results: I did find it hard to hear and understand, but I wrote things down as she told me, and checked with the lady afterwards.
I was at 1.1, well below the 3,5 bar.
She checked that I had some ready-filled Enoxaparin hypodermics to hand, which I had. I am to inject one straight away tonight, another in the morning and tomorrow night.
Take 2½ Warfarin now, and then in the morning and the following night.
Another INR test will be arranged for Wednesday or Thursday.
I thanked the lady, rang off, and went to take the Warfarin and inject the Enoxaparin. A bit dodgy on my feet.
The date on the hypo was ‘Use by the end of June 2020!’
The injection into the large, wobbly, fearsome stomach was done. The 2½ Warfarins taken. I had to use the left hand, dare not risk Nicodemus or Shoulder Shuddering Shirley playing up if I tried with the right mitt.
Took a shot of the evening sky, and for the life of me, I could not find the Nikon camera lens cover I’d just taken off! I spent ages searching, I knew it had to be in the kitchen somewhere. But, failing to find it, I investigated in the other room, no luck, of course! Crankiness!
I even looked in the wet room and hallway, just in case I’m had a blank-moment. While perusing, I found an official-looking letter on the floor near the door! It was from Her Majesties Government. One, I assume sent to all of her subjects. I gave up the search for the lens cover and read the four pages. Which left me more confused than ever, apart from clarifying that those at high risk of death from Coronvirus, can go out again, keeping to the advice given in the letter, from August 1st.
Not much chance of getting back to sleep now. The mind all active (and confused), I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea…
As I plugged in the kettle, there right in front of me, was the Nikon lens, on a hob on the cooker! Glunglegnatsworth!
I settled back into the c1968, sickenly beige coloured recliner. And got my feet up, to air and ease the cruelly uncut Howard Hughes style toenails.
I soon realised that sleep was not going to come.
The deep vein Arterial Thrombosis, Spider veins, and spider veins were coming out to play again.
Ah, well, I’ve had a couple of decent nights kips in, so no complaints. I just hope I’ve got the messages right from the hospital about the INR doses.
Although it took ages to get off into the land of nod, when I did get there, it was peaceful and uninterrupted for four hours straight.
04:30hrs: I came back to semi-reality, with Toothache Thomas giving my bother, and in need of a wee-wee. I’d taken about four wee-wees overnight, and can’t figure out why I didn’t make use of the bucket, and instead, I struggled to the wet room each time?
As I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, none-working, rickety recliner, I hoped that the Dentist, Podiatrist, Opticians and Audio Clinic would be open again soon. I’m going to be busy when they do! Frangleklops!
I got uprightish, the stick and off to the wet room. The plates and pins didn’t look too bad at all, but the toes and heels were so painful with each step I took! Argh!
Arthur Itis’s knees were again not to hurting at all, but the joints were so stiff. (The toes and feet were enough to be going on with, anyway) The absence of bother from Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis and Back Pain Brenda, were all noted, and appreciated! Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was twitching as if getting ready to launch an attack Humph! And Shaking Shaun could be felt causing a few minor juddering moves on the legs. Overall though, things could have been a lot worse.
Had the SPUTE (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) wee-wee. The same style as most of yesterdays leaks. Washed my hands, and wiped the contact points, off to the kitchen. The morning was light I thought at first, then it dawned on me that I’d got up a lot later than I usually do, this morning. I still got about five hours kip in, nodding off so late as I did.
After taking a picture of the morning view, I got the kettle on and did the Health Checks. Compared to last Monday, the hemadynamometer readings were not exactly heterodox. Were going in the wrong direction. Sys, Dia and Pulse were all up. Mmm?
The thermometer reading was again, just showing ‘Low’. Me not being quick enough to the stick out of my earhole in time to read it. The figure only shows up for a couple of seconds, then changes to High or Low. What it shows when things are spot-on or acceptable, I don’t know, it’s never been right. Haha!
Took the medications, no injections until Thursday. No Saccades-Sandra spray left to use, olive oiled the earholes, and nasal sprayed. No Fenbid or Phorpain gelling until the ablutions are done.
Then went on Computer Cameron, and dedicatedly pressed on with the updating of the Sunday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters died a few times, causing me to lose a lot of time. But I didn’t get all uptight about it, just persevered with the task in hand! Smug-Mode-Engaged! Oh, and I needed three of now seemingly regular wee-wees (SPUTE: Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) taken during the updating.
Getting it finished and posted off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Then went to make a brew of Assam tea, and considered having some caramelised biscuits, but thought better of it, I didn’t want to test Toothache Thomas.
Making the brew, and the sun came up from behind the apartments, and I just had to try and take some shots of the view. So, I did!
Looking at these after I’d got them on the blog, made me think that, if I didn’t already live here, seeing these would have made me want to! There’s something that Nottingham City Homes could use to encourage folks to join us! Hehehe!
I made another brew for the one that went cold while I spent so long taking the pictures. Then back to the computer and started off this blog up to here. Then made a template for tomorrows post.
Well, I managed to get the template done. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley has eased off nicely… but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters are dying in me now and then. No long periods, just the scattered ‘catch-you-out’ when your not ready flutters! Groggleknockers!
Went on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking next.
Made an Iceland food order. Hopefully, the driver will bring it up to the flat. Oh, dear. I don’t want to bother Frank and Jenny if I can help it. It should be coming Wednesday next, 24th June, twixt 8 >10:00hrs.
The clouds seemed to be attracting my attention today? They were so artistically presented, I just can’t help but photograph them. Bootiful, they were!
I had a look at the latest Coronavirus figures and the news. The Prime Minister, it said on the BBC site: Extremely vulnerable people who are most at risk from becoming ill from coronavirus will no longer need to shield in England, from 1st August. Aha! Freedom Approacheseth!
Food required now. My phagomania had to be satiated.
I got a meal prepared and soon gobbled it all up. Oh, yes, tasty! Fish fillets in a crispy coating, some canned, new potatoes, Piccolo tomatoes, potato salad, and beetroot. Followed with a small apple, and a pot of Jenny-supplied lemon mousse!
Flavour Rated at 8.5/10. The best nosh for a good few days!
Feeling a tad easier now, I’ve filled the stomach. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley was still giving it to me, she’s been a right pest today. So extra care (Not that you can do anything about it) was taken when I went to do the washing up.
The sun came through again, and I took a shot, and then a close up one of the broken clouds in the first picture.
They made me think of the universe and all sorts of extra-terrestrial and alien possibilities.
Got down in search of Sweet Morpheous, who was very reluctant. A load of rubbish on the TV, so no nodding off was possible for hours. Eventually sleep cameth.
At least the wee-wee demands stopped, until when I woke up.
02:30hrs: I stirred into mock-life, realised I needed a wee-wee, and dismounted the £300, c1968, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, none working, ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, near-lethal, recliner, I also needed the Porcelain Throne. With Duodenal Donald stabbing at me, and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley getting active, off to the wet room I stumbled.
The Throne session was similar to yesterdays. Quick, not messy, but so painful! After flushing three times, I gave up. I’ll give it another try later. Tsk!
Arthur Itis knees were slowly getting to that early-warning stiffness again. Avast, all ye landlubbers! There be rain, or a storm coming soon! I don’t know why I said that? Hehehe!
Washed the dandies and disinfected the contact points, then off to the kitchen.
The scene outside was showing no signs of any fog or mist, it was beautiful with the scattered lights. I took what I thought with the view on the Canon screen, was a decent picture of the morning view. But no, it came out horrible, as you can see.
Got the kettle on, and did the health checks. The sphygmomanometer readings were pretty good. The thermometer just indicated as ‘Low’. I took the medications, and bad a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and very tasty it was, too! For a few seconds…
The tea leaked out from the mug, onto the tray! Oh dearie me, it was the white mug that I thought had got through the Accfauxpas yesterday, when I dropped it, and it landed between the cooker, and counter.
I made the brew and went to fetch the milk from the fridge, came back and saw the escaping Glengettie Gold tea running out of what was a spider-crack in the mug! Schluberduberski!
Got Computer Cameron going, and checked the Emails first. I’d had a reply from WordPress, to my request to confirm the cancellation of my subscriptions. I’m more confused than ever now. The struggling memory tends to miss things from its own record completely, since the Stroke. Items likely to be lost or distorted, are recent events and new dilemmas, problems or computations.
As I pressed on with the updating of the Saturday post, Duodenal Donald began to ease off. (Bless him!) I got the update finished and posted off in good time. Smug-Mode-Engaged!
I kept having to wee often, too regularly—all of the CMA’s (Cloudy-Mini-Amount) mode. I tried the flusher each visit, but the stubborn toilet paper still floats back on top!
As I started on this blog, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley became more active, but you can’t win ’em all! Struggling along at a snails-pace and ever-correcting mistakes, I realised I’d not sent off the link for the blog, or visited the WordPress Reader yet. So, I started with the WordPress Reader reading.
As I was answering comments, Saccades Sandra kicked off, and I had to stop, my vision was so bad and warped. No Dizzy Dennis, though, just the blurred sight.
I took a break and went to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Struggling to see to make it safely. I searched for a Saccades spray pot for the eyes. At a total loss as to where it is. I spent nigh-on an hour searching without any luck.
I also needed four trips to the wet room for CMA’s (Cloudy-Mini-Amount) wee-wees! I searched every room. Flushing again each time, the stubborn toilet paper still floated back on top! I had to manually remove it! Balderdashness!
Back to the kitchenette. As the sky turned dark and foreboding! And few scattered large sized drops of rain started to fall from the heavens. Well, the farmers need it!f
I made the brew and back to Computer Cameron. The blurred vision slowly eased but did not clear altogether. I may have to cancel Josie’s cheesy potato nosh if the eyes don’t clear more. Still, a few hours go yet, time for improvement.
I noticed I had an email from Morrisons come in, so I investigated.
It told me that my delivery had arrived. Not being able to get an order in until Tuesday 30th June, this was puzzling and confused me somewhat. I went on the Morrison site and checked on my orders. There was no record of any delivery today on it. Phew! But is this a scam of some sort, or a cock-up on Morrison’s behalf? Am I going bonkers? Will I be charged? I do not need any more confusing.
The vision seems to have adjusted itself now.
I went on the TFZer, mine, and Winwood Heights Facebooking pages.
Time to get the ablutions done. I realised that I’d not injected the Enoxaparin! So limped to the kitchen and got it done. The weather was really brightening up now.
To the wet room, for the most exciting and varied session, I’ve had in a long time!
I needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Painful and quick again, as the first one. Once again, the flush did not clear the TP.
Doing the teeth and Toothache Thomas kicked off!
Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
The shaving, I felt had gone well. (Huh!)
Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
Got in the shower, and was having a great time, started at the top and worked my way down.
Saccades Sandra went blurry again, but not as bad as earlier on.
Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP.
Coming out of the shower…
Oh, ‘ecky thump! I noticed the blood running down my chest and had an investigation.
It was the tiniest little cut on the ear lobe, not even the size of a pinhead!
Dabbed it with some after-shave, that did the trick. Made me jump, mind!
Tried the WC flush, failed to move the TP. I got it out manually and rang it out, then wrapped it in a bag, and put it in the waste bin.
I still couldn’t find spray for the eyes anywhere.
But I did find a part tube of Germoloid when I search down behind the floor cabinet. (Thank heavens for Jenny’s picker-upperer ♥)
Got the PPs on without any difficulty.
Putting in the earhole’s olive oil, the pot, shot out of my hand, hit the wall and splashed into the toilet bowl! Grobbleknangles!
As I was leaving the room, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades Sandra combined forces to ensure that I hit the right shoulder and arm on the door frame! More bruises to display!
Nowt proper serious happened. But it would have gone down well on Candid camera? Hehehe! It could even be used as a script for a comedy sketch? Also, as I nursed my shoulder and went to get the pain gel out in the kitchen, I had to smile to myself.
I set about preparing Josie’s cheesy potato nosh. 50-minutes later I was delivering it to her on the tray. I forgot to photo it, Damnations! Still, she liked the look of it. Cod in batter, silverskin onions, gherkins, quartered tomatoes, surimi sticks, beetroot, and sliced mushrooms. With Marmite and Babybell cheese portions, lemon mousse. And a can of pink gin and tonic.
She offered me some chocolates, and I had to remind her of my diabetes, and kindly decline her kind offer. I told her she doesn’t have to give me anything, just for her to enjoy the food, that’s enough, all I want.
As I struggled back in the apartment door, I found an official-looking envelope on the floor. ♫ Dang, dang, dang… Dang! ♫ I opened it straight away, it was the AgeUK insurance renewal for the flat contents. Sixteen double-sided, A4 pages! Oh, dear!I must remember to ask Warden Deana tomorrow, to phone them for me when I beg her to try to get me an appointment with the Sherwood Health Centre, podiatrist again, at Elmswood Gardens! I pray that I’ll remember! I’m leaving the letter out near the TV and telephone.
I made an impulse move towards doing the washing, but stopped myself! There’s no point in doing them until I get my nosh ready. As I am having the left-overs from Josie’s nosh. I’ve got it all planned out what I’m going to have.
I’ll reheat the cheesy potatoes in the oven. Some mushrooms leftover, and some surimi-fish sticks, tomatoes and Marmite cheese.
I was going to reheat a portion of battered fish, but I forgot to turn off the oven after serving the meal, and it didn’t look too appetising to me! Hahaha! I’ll make do with the surimi. Not really feeling very hungry yet, anyway.
I got on the computer and updated this diary up to here.
The precipitation pelted down, yet despite its ferocity, it was over in a few minutes, and the sun tried to get through. Too many clouds for a rainbow methinks.
Then I went on CorelDraw, to do some graphics for, and create tomorrow’s post template. Got a couple done, still more needed, but needs must, my phagomania forced food to the fore of my feather-brain.
Not one of better, indeed one of my worst meals ever. I’d got so many things wrong with the cooking and prep work, I threw more of it away than what I ate!
Oversalted the spuds! The worst I’ve ever made in my life! (Shame, disgrace, my reputation as a Cheesy Potato-maker, shattered!)
Undercooked the mushrooms.
The Iceland chicken slices were like cardboard, but less tasty!
The tomatoes were bitter, acidy!
The new potatoes, well, they reminded me of cotton-wool buds!
This bothered me, not for myself, but poor Josie was served with the same cheesy potatoes. I must apologise to her in the morning.
However, the lemon mousse and apple pie were both delightful.
I got the pots washed, and put Computer Cameron to bed. Then settled my oleaginous, ponderosity, of a flabby-stomached body in the c1968 recliner. I got the Kitchen Nightmare programme on to watch, and the room almost lit-up as it came on. The sun had suddenly appeared through the clouds, almost instantly.
I picked up the camera, and as I stood up, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, (with her worst-damage control timing as perfect as ever) attacked. Causing my hand to go down between the chairs. I now have a slight swelling on two of my finger knuckles. Granglesknockersbuggerit!
I fumbled my way to the kitchen window and took these nephograms of the wonderfully moody looking clouds in the sky. I did a bit of nephelococcygia seeking, finding a few shapes of interest.
Took a wee-wee, and got my head down again.
Sleep was resistant again. But sweet Morpheus did arrive later, and for some reason not understood to me, when I was interrupted for wee-weeing needs, I got up and went to the wet room each of the at least four times overnight. Why I did not get the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) in use, remains another mystery. Incidentally, all of the wee-wees were of the unexpectedly SPUTE (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) mode.