Monday 20th April 2020
Hungarian: 2020. április 20., hétfő
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced!
04:30hrs: I woke for the umpteenth time, and all signs of mental aggravation had gone. I was no longer bedevilled! Not knowing why this suddenly occurred was a mystery, but of no interest to me, I was just so pleased that they had. In fact, it put little life into me as I cheered-up.
Getting out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, not-working-broken-down, most cringeworthily sickening beige-coloured, rickety recliner, has not been done with such ease for many a month. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away! Good fortune, for me, is transmundane.
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet).
Off to the kitchen, a little slower than usual, cause I didn’t trust Dizzy Dennis an iota. He’s a most cunning ailment. He’s on a par with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters as top-dogs in the catching me out at the most optimum, dangerous timing, to cause me the greatest bother! The Swine!
I got the updating finished for the Sunday post and sent off. Nicodemus was particularly kind to me this morning. Then got the link Emailed. On to TFZer Facebooking, I always enjoy that. Spent an hour or three on it. Next, on the WordPress Reader section. Some great reads and photographs on there!
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The landline burst into sound and flashed. I thought it might be the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she would be in tomorrow and give me the time scale. It was Sister Jane calling, bless her.
During the socially-distanced chinwag, she told me to write clearly. I mentioned the problems that are stopping me doing so. She suggested I have plenty of time on my hands, and I should learn shorthand. Hehe!
She and Pete are waiting for their free food parcel to arrive. Jane is very disappointed with the last one. They gave her amongst the many freebies, instant coffee, they use filter coffee, mentioning with a smiling voice; ‘Of course, you don’t get a free parcel do you’ (Muffled laugh, suspiciously heard!).
She mentioned that she had been doing some cleaning. Pointing out she realises I don’t, and I should get more exercise done. After the conversation, I felt about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Hahaha!
The doorbell chimed, and I found a pot of butter on the carpet outside. Obviously the work of Angel Jenny again. Bless her cotton socks!
Some tip-tapping noises were keeping me company from somewhere, as I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and then made a start on this blog.
Within a few hours, I’d got as far as here, and the need for CorelDraw graphicalisationing grew more urgent, as I realised I was out of page-top, Thoughts and Day graphics all together! So, with the tap-tapping now accompanied by some clump-banging, I visited CorelDraw ad started what turned out be a marathon session. But only managed two of the six graphics I needed to do. Humph!
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and pictured a man and his dog.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
I put a can of plonk in the hallway for the driver. He was very chuffed! Which pleased me, too.
I made a start on the problematic, complicated and time-consuming task of getting the stuff in the cupboards fridge and freezer.
The doorbells chimed out again. I was a little miffed at being disturbed in the middle of mess sorting out the groceries; but thought it might be the other pair of trousers they have not delivered yet, so my spirits raised just a tad.
It was Josie returning the tray and things from the nosh. She said she enjoyed it and was, at last, isolating herself. Both made me feel good for her.
Back in the kitchen, and crammed the stuff, after reorganising the things a little. Plenty of nosh in now. Bleach might be a problem, but not yet, I’ve now got a bottle and a half left, so things are not anywhere near desperate.
I got the oven warming up. Then pondered on what to have for the nosh, my choices were multitudinous. Hahaha!
I thought I’d have some of the oddly called ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ from Iceland, chips. This will mean more room in the freezer. Some cooked meat of some sort; or sausages will make a little room in the fridge for me.
It really is jam-packed in there now.
I nipped to have a wash, nothing serious, like an ablutions session, mind.
Crumps and botherations! I knocked the clock off of the toilet top, and guess where it fell?
I assume you’ve guessed right. Straight down into the water in the water in the WC. Grrr! So very-most annoying!
I got the chips in the oven and sorted out the nosh ingredients available to use. Then I made a start on one of the most flavourful noshes of the year so far! Inspired, I was. Mind you, I kept changing my mind of what meat to have, ending up with one of the turkey sausages.
A wholemeal cob, a bottle of spring water, a terribly crumbly tasteless apple (One bite was enough to convince me to bin it!), and a Skinny Bar nougat (Tasty) were the extras.
The main plateful was the best bit. ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ I seasoned with black pepper and vinegar, the Netherlands-grown Piccalo tomatoes were fantastic considering how out of season they were, sea-salted. I used some of the frozen petit pois for the first time and added some demerara sugar. I was not too impressed with the peas, but everything else on the plate went down fine and flavoursome. A rating of 9.26/10!
I was so impressed with my effort, I took shots of it from different angles on the tray. Did you notice the last picture had something added for an extra treat? Hahaha!
I ate it all up (Well, not the crap apple) masticating so slowly and savouring it. Apart from the fruit being thrown away, I ate and enjoyed the lot. It was about the time I made a decent meal!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning.
I was determined to get some sleep tonight. (Huh!)
Took the medications, and as I got settled into the £300, second-hand recliner, I soon realised I needed to use my hands to feel my way safely into the seat. (Luckily, Nicodemus’s Neortramsmitters’, and Shaking Shaun didn’t visit me st the time) Saccades Sandra was bad tonight, and I could not use the ploy of watching TV to help me get to sleep. Getting the focus right, too bothersome and headache encouraging. Then Toothache Tim kicked off. This was not going to be a peaceful night, methought. Sadly, I was right! I eventually got myself into a semi-comfortable position. Pulled the woolly hat over my eyes, and prayed that the Thought-Storms would not start.
The landline phone rang and flashed. I fumbled to get my spec’s on and get to the phone in time. It was my new Phlebotomy nurse. She will be calling in the morning between 0800hrs and 12:00hrs, to take the Warfarin Blood for testing. I thanked her, and returned to the chair, noticing that Saccades had eased off, and I could focus easier again. Which was good!
For some unknown, but pleasant reason, the Thought-Storms did not arrive. Which, on the face of it, was magnificently encouraging thing.
But the IBON (Inchcocks-Bundle-of-Nerves), anxiety and agitation attacks started the moment I got back down in the recliner! I really cannot recall how many times I struggled up, to go and check on something, taps (faucets) lights, oven, wet room sink, etc. over the next few hours. By the time I dropped of, the physical efforts and mental fatigue helped me nod-off.
At least I got a few hours in. Hey-Ho!
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.
23:45hrs: I stirred into a sort of counterfeit-life, with a fatty, greasy taste and smell lining my mouth, from the none-ordered Iceland pork that was desperately short on lean meat, but was plentiful in fat! And it had upset Duodenal Donald and Reflux Roger overnight, who were both giving me some stick. Thank you, sarcastically, Iceland! 
I took a photographicalisation from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen window, of the morning view, it looked a little misty out there.
So, I wandered back into the kitchen and took another shot of morning view. Ah, it looks like the fog is clearing already, getting ready to let the rain through? According to Google, it’s going to be showers, all through the day today. 
Pinterest, the need for another wee-wee arose. Anticipating yet another BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) mode, I was taken aback a bit by the unexpected ELDOP (Extra-Long-Drawn-Out-Persistent) style. But, worse than that, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding. I’d no Corticosteroid cream left, but found some Daktacort to use. It stings more and is less effective at stemming the flow. But, better than nothing. Excuse me a moment while I apply it. ‘Arghhh!’ All done, now. 
With rain being forecast, I decided to risk using the new three-wheeled walker-guide for the first time. I moved things needed from the old trolley. Added the fodder for the Social Club, then got dressed warmly ready for the planned hobble into Arnold. I was perhaps foolishy, intent on getting a pleasant walk in, after such a long time without having one. Which later proved not such a good idea. 
I had a perusal of the notice board and walked to and through the swipe door into the Winwood link-passage. Oh, the warmth in Winwood Court is so welcoming after coming out of the cold Woodthorpe lift foyer, very welcome. I went to the Winwood Court Social Room and put the cooked chicken and bacon on the kitchen counter. Then called at the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Wardens as they used to be known, holding cell and interrogation office. They have cunningly installed table lights inside now, so anyone needing or foolishly wanting to talk to them, cannot tell if anyone is in or not. The main light is not on, so we can’t see if anyone is in. 
not to. Hearing aids fitted, watch on the wrist, and back down and out of the cold Woodthorpe lobby and over Chestnut Walk, tacking the gravel hill up into Woodthorpe Grange Park on my mini-hobble to Arnold. 
got on the level again, I’d be fine, and Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna would soon ease off. 
My getting to the B&M store was rather well-timed, I thought. The drizzle started just as I was limping into the shop! Hehe! 
I came out, the drizzle had stopped, and took my life into my hands crossing the road. Limped on into Arnold, calling in the Arno Hill Park to feed the ducks en route. That was fun, but getting out onto the road was not easy over the uneven ground, with the damned trolly tipping, sticking and rattling. 
I plodded on to the Fulton Foods shop, just to get some Galaxy dark milk chocolate bars with hazelnuts, at three for a quid. I got six of them. Another treat! 
I got the medications taken, put the kettle on, pondered over what meal to have. 
I made some boiled-bashed-and-roasted cheesy red Leicester potatoes with salt and butter added. Beef pattie, garden peas with demerara sugar, four large balsamic vinegar mushrooms, sliced cox’s apple, cooked beetroot and Wholemeal bread thins, buttered with sliced tomatoes and onion-salt! A most deserving Taste- Rating of 7.5/10 attained. 
Just my rotten luck! I had a Peripheral Neuropathy inspired involuntary right leg flailing-about dance in the hallway! Needless to say, without the stick, I went over, tumbled to the floor, my head hitting the wall on the way down, and the leg continuing to happily vellicate away in the air, hitting the walls a few times.
over I go! Tsk! 
I made a brew and settled in the £300 second-hand recliner. To watch the DVD, that I bought months ago for £1 from the charity shop. I’ve only ever watched the original one. Thought it was rubbish, and didn’t bother with them again. So, with this cheapo set of three DVDs, I thought I’d watch the three of them. Naturally, I knew there would be no chance of my staying awake to watch one, let alone three! I got through about half-way of the film, but it was so bad and boring to me, I gave up and turned off the set. But, if I should live long enough, still plan to view the other two that I’ve not seen yet. I changed to TV mode and fell asleep within minutes.
22:25hrs: Woke with a sense of pusillanimousness rampant within. A wishy-washiness, a vulnerability, and acceptance of my ineptness. (What had I been dreaming of?) I lay a while, pondering over my brain’s overnight transmogrification into a whimpering collection of uncontrollable fears and self-dislike. This train of thought soon changed, the moment I moved to get my gargantuanly flabby-body out of the recliner; as Arthur Itis and Duodenal Donald joined forces in giving me something else to fret over; some discomforting pains! 
I went to the kitchen to make a brew and take the morning medications. I made a mistake here, I took another Codeine, that’s three now, in three hours! Huh, Fool! I might fall asleep unexpectedly at any time now. Tsk! Mind you, the headache is easing off. Duodenal Donald will have to be put up with until he decided when to stop, the extra Codienes will not help things in that department. Still, the stabbing pains are no worse, so I might get away with it.
11:33hrs: It was soon time to stop and get Josie’s meal prepared. (Which left me with the biggest load of washing up to do. Haha!) I made a good choice for her today. Aduki beans being a first for me. I warmed them through with tomato passata, as someone recommended me to, and added a bit of onion salt. Sliced tomato, Spanish, so not very juicy. Gherkins. Sliced apple. Surimi prawn sticks and Tuna with some mayonnaise and vinegar mixed in. Fried dried onions and I managed to get the cheesy potatoes mashed and crisped up betterer this week. The Gin and tonic and Limoncello dessert on the tray with the cutlery, and delivered it to her door, which is directly opposite my door, handy that! She was on the phone when I rang the bells, so it took a while for her to answer. She was looking very well this morning. The gal handed a tray of lettuce and tomatoes, and I took the meal, which was nice and hot for once, well, the potatoes were. I wanted Josie to get the pots while hot, so a couple of words, thanks for the greenery and tom’s, wished her happy eating, and back to the flat. 
Maybe it was the nerves being better, plus my satisfaction with getting caught up with WordPress, but I began a cleaning campaign that Fanny Craddock would have been proud of (Not really, but I got a fair bit done before the fatigue and weariness dawned!) I got the equipment piled in the sink all washed. Then did the handwashing. Then got three bags of waste (three waste-bins you see, front and wet room and kitchen) made up, put them balanced on the three-wheeler, added a couple of jars for the recycling bin, and left it near the door, ready to go. 
Around to the main lobby, which is still being upgraded, and the new inner door had been moved to the right as you look at the photo. It’s (the lobby) is beginning to look something like now. one tiny thing, people with walking aids or mobility scooters, will no longer have a direct passage out through both doors and will have to manoeuvre a little. I would never have thought of this a year ago, but having a handicap and disablement makes one notice them. A little dark in there, I couldn’t sit to do my crosswords in that lack of light. Not complaining about it at all though, obviously a lot of work still to be done
I went out and put my sauce and beetroot jars in the alcohol-bottle filled green bin. They do like their plonk here! (♫ Jealousy, ’twas all over my Jealousy! ♫ Hahaha!) 
I got back up to the hovel, had a wee-wee (A rarity today?) and got my own din-dins started. It was easy-peasy preparing it today. 
The Aduki beans, I’d never tried them before, I thought must have been a sort of small kidney beans, but much sweeter. I looked them up, and I was wrong. “The adzuki bean, (Vigna angularis); from azuki (Japanese: アズキ（小豆）); sometimes transliterated as azuki or adzuki), or English red mung bean is an annual vine widely cultivated throughout East Asia for its small bean. The cultivars most familiar in Northeast Asia have a uniform red colour, but white, black, grey, and variously mottled varieties also are known. ‘Well, they were sweet tasting and pleasant enough on my plate!’
Then, out of the blue, and urgently, I had to remove my grotesque, wobbly-bellied body-mass from the second-hand recliner, and hasten to the Porcelain Throne. And what a change this session turned out to be! I was soon settled on the seat, awaiting the usual burst of activity at the innards own timing, and got just pain, blocked, but I could feel the warm liquid flowing, but nothing substantial. So, out came the crossword book, the pain eased, but nothing moved. I was well into the crosswording and having some success for once, and suddenly and unpremeditatedly, a mass of evacuation material escaped, with a splosh, that sounded like a torpedo hitting the water, I felt the splash! This pain also brought forth a sigh relief; a sort of “Ahahahaaa!” An involuntary smile followed. 
nnel, carbolic soap, shower head, towel, socks, Germoloid tube and as parting dropsy, the shower chair when I was returning it after wiping! However, it missed my body completely! Worrying this, not usual at all! The pins seemed to be getting some new Clopidogrel markings, but the Deep Vein Thrombosis bulges were almost non-existent today? Might have something to do with the Warfarin INR being so high, maybe, perhaps? 
I had about fifteen minutes before the bus arrived, and Louie came a few seconds later. I thought I’d got a good photo of him, but I make a mess of it and got him looking away from me. Tsk! We had a few natters that we could not fully enjoy; when the time crept beyond the five minutes past the hour, which the L9 was due. It was nearly twenty-passed when the bus did come. 
I got the nosh prepared and served up. A salad of sorts. Tomato and chicken slices sarnies, sliced apple, chips (fries), beetroot, garden peas, mini-sausages and pork pie meat. Potato biscuits add lemon mousse as an aside. I ate all the lot of it. Leaving only a few crumbs on the plate. Super! Taste-Rating: 8.5/10! 
Got the handwashing done, rung and hung. Just the one mishap, the nerve-ends lack of messages to the brain, made me drop the bowl while I was emptying it into the sink. 06:50hrs: As I was cleaning things up, the Morrison delivery arrived. Substituted Braeburn crap apples for Cox’s. Money-off Voucher not valid, they say the wrong number! Crabs and Grobblecrap!
Got the nosh prepared. Baked beans flavoured with malt vinegar, sugar, Texan BBQ sauce, three wholemeal cobs with a Cumberland Sausage square in each one, and a bonus one in with the beans. Excellent! A tasteless unordered foul Braeburn apple and a Lemon yoghourt to follow.
And collapsed in a heap, landing entangled with the walking stick and swivel chair! Swearing silently (I hope) I surprisingly got up rather quickly and easily, then had a visit from Dizzy Dennis, and sat back down in the grotty-beige coloured recliner. I stewed over what had just happened with myself. ‘Had I got up too swiftly?’ ‘What made me tumble in the first place?’ ‘How the hell did I get back up so quickly?’ ‘How come I had a welt on my chin and head, although I did not remember hitting anything on the way down?’ ‘I had a feel around the limbs and torso, but I found no injuries other than tiny unpainful marks on the face?’ Yet, I had a headache coming on rapidly, as the dizziness dissipated. But my investigations and musings were soon terminated, as the reminder of the need for the Throne gurgled!
I had a peep outside through the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window at the weather. It was raining, which didn’t exactly fill me with optimism for the walk to the physio session later.
The ablutions went well. Only a couple of dropsies and shaving cuts. The search for some cash was successful, and I raised the £2.30 needed for the bus fare. It was in odds and ends, 1p, 2p, 5p, 10p and pound coins, but still. Of course, had xyrophobia-suffering, retired at 40 due to a lottery win and being left a fortune by an unknown relative, Brother-in-Law Pete, not stole all my valuables, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later), I’d have had the money for the bus fare!
I got myself wrapped up warmly, nibbles in the bag, and down and out of the flat, out of the Foyer with its new doors, out into the cold, wet murky morning and hobbled along Chestnut Walk. I took this shaky, distorted sad effort of 
the photograph on Chestnut Walk. Certainly not one of better shots. I got to the bus stop on Winchester Street Hill, my second photo caught a car speeding up the hill. He or she might have been late for work?
As I got outside, I felt a lot better in myself, also a lot wetter. Hehehe! 
Again, when I got outside, I began to feel a little easier, more in control of things, and my walking improved, no more Dennis Dennis for a while after this. 
I had a moment’s contemplation as I awaited the green walk sign. I thought that perhaps all the hassle and anguish of Monday might have caused this morning’s, erm… ‘unwellness’. The dizzies, absentmindedness. As for the paleness 
that scares folks, I’ll ask the nurse in the morning. 
I took a photograph of the ILCs Holding Cell & Office as I passed, in the new Winwood Court lobby, near the lifts. 
Set up, had a wee-wee, took the evening medications and served up the fodder. I was interested to see if I liked this boeuf bourguignon. Well, it was alright, but I’ll not bother with it again. 
I turned on the TV, convinced that if I find some banal rubbish to view (Not a hard thing to do), I’ll fall to sleep for sure. But no! The days Memory-blanks, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops replayed in my mind, over and over, and I ended up worrying myself to sleep. Hahaha!
I moved the handwashing onto the airers. I kept jiggling them about to get it to dry better as the morning went on. 
The right arm, where I’d burnt it on the oven racks taking out Josie’s smoked haddock last night, began to itch, and I found it difficult not to keep scratching it. So I rubbed some Savlon cream on the little scars, this should ease off the itchiness! And it did, too! Any more medical help or advice you need, just call me! Hahaha! 
Off to the wet room for a wee-wee. And what a wee-wee it was! Of the MES (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling) variety. I thought it must be time for dinner when it finally ended! It must have taken several minutes to trickle its way to a final conclusion. I think that maybe, had I used a receptacle to relieve things in, a teacup might have been too big! The pain, as well. Blimey! 
I got in and stripped off for the cleaning session, and boy oh boy, were the plates (feet) colourless! They were whiter and paler than I have ever seen them before! I could be dead here, and no one has bothered to tell me about it, you know. Hahaha! 
In the lift lobby, it looked as if the Mysteries of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the universal continuum, illusion, delusion, & hallucination, had been busy again? Haha!
I explained my problems, starting with the Pegasus form to be filled in, and the silly bit of paper with the return address on, in need of guidance on how it supposedly works. Oberstúrmbannfhreress Warden Deana (Just a cognomen), knuckled down and helped out straight away. She filled in the form from details held on the Nottingham City Homes computer record for me. Then supplied a safer envelope for me to use for posting back to the Nottingham Police Headquarters. Thanks, Deana!
I made my way back to the flat, taking a snap of the windblown al-fresco seating area in the drizzle. I noticed that the door was ajar. I pressed the green open button, and a chap came along to tell that I must not push or force the door! I explained to him that I did have to if I wanted to get outside! He repeated that it was a fire door – I pointed out that it is not like the doors in the new Winwood Court, that is how come there, is a green button to press, it does not open automatically, you have to push the door! That is what I have been told. He was not impressed; he just repeated that I must not force the door, tutted and went off in a huff! Humph! I don’t know who he was.
!
I was now in a state of utter confusionableitis! 
Hello, a noise from the door again, I’ll investigate. Fancy that, a load of junk mail had been delivered for me to enjoy! Well, that cheered me up no-end that did! A good job I live on my own, for the mutterings coming from under my breath, that was not to be repeated in any civilised company! The Houses of Commons, perhaps? 
I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung. Got into the night-attire, and once the meal cooked and served up, tucked into it! 
01:05hrs: I woke, and lay there with uhtceare-ridden fears, worries, and neurasthenia rampant in the turmoil of mentally-handicapping thoughts, ideas, and frustrations blasting away in my mind. A definite reluctance to galvanise my body by getting up and a desire to stay hibernating in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner lingered. Despite my having already enjoyed about five-hours of kip? 
Off to the kitchen, it was still raining outside. I took the morning medications, jiggled the handwashing on the airers, and made a fine-strong mug of Thompson tea. 
By gum, that went well! No toothbrush cuts or shaving cuts. No Sock-Glide struggle (I didn’t put any socks on!), a few dropsies, but you can’t have everything! Got dressed, and made sure the oven was heated up for Josie’s smoked haddock later and put the SoulFood veg chilli in the saucepan ready for warming up.
I found some mail had been delivered. One was bumpf, the other from the CityCare Medicine Team. They have made an appointment to come ad see me on Thursday 28th November, at the same time as my podiatrist’s appointment at the Sherwood Health Centre Clinic! Am I lucky or what? Now I have got to bother someone who will not want worrying, to ring them for me to see if it can be changed! Grumph! 
Back to the flat. I got the cooking things cleaned up. I did a little more TFZer Facebooking and then started to make my own nosh. Which was far less complicated, and needed only one saucepan and one dish to serve the vegetable chilli in. I added two of the mint choc-cakes for afters and a carton of fresh orange juice.
Unfortunately, when I’d cleaned the saucepan and cutlery used and settled into the second-hand, c1968 recliner to dine, the chilli-fodder was just too hot for me to handle and cope with! I’d had this ready-made meal a few times before, and it was perfect for me then, not too hot. And, I’d added some black bean sauce and sliced tomatoes, just the same as previous times, but the first spoonful was like a flame going down the throat! Eurgh! Never again will try this, too dangerous! I think if I had eaten it, I would have been poorly, in a bad way. 
The little skips I had to occasionally incorporate into my so-called ambulatory actions, to avoid banging into the four-pronged walking stick and tripping myself over, really was hilarious. Even when as I left the room, and a little kick-out knocked the corner display, stubbed the toe, and sent stuff tumbling to the floor – but the need for the Throne, left no time for checking on things! 
I got into the room and whipped down the jammies and PPs, again, so timely, well, just in time! I’m getting good at this! It was another of those unbelievably nervous-making, worrying ‘Will the system cope with i
I went to check on things at the front door, something told me to, the EQ I suppose. I found a begging circular that was for the previous tenant Margaret, and a leaflet; ‘Do you want to be alone on Christmas Day?’ Well, I worked for 20 years alone on Christmas Day, well, night, in Security. Now I’ve spent the last eight years worth of Christmas Days on my own, not seeing a soul. So, I’m well used to it by now. Nice thought though, thanks to the ‘Festive Loneliness is Real’ team. As for getting to Bestwood to collect a free meal, with no buses running, I could walk it in about two/three hours, I suppose; if I did need a festive meal? Getting it back home with it would be a little speculative. Hehehe! 
I made another brew, and took the medications to the computer desk, and started it up. (The computer, not the counter!)
I buttered some milk roll bread and got the cooked beef off-cuts. Beetroot, pork pie, tomatoes, apple and mini swiss rolls on the tray. Ensconced myself in the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working, uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. The one that bullying xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. (I still haven’t got them back yet six-months later)