The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Come two thirty in the morning I looked to the time on my laptop [and was stunned to find out what time it actually was: I'd been watching star trek discovery, a show of which I've never been sure of, as a fan of star trek original.
But... something about the show had captivated me, goodstyle... and, well into the morning I'd still been sitting there, crosslegged on the edge of my bed, as the show played out... and, I'd been recalled of one of essence of one of the better episodes of classic trek.
The interplay between Christopher Pike and his crew was akin to Kirk and his, as suggested with the am similar uniform, early on. Then there's been the tension between Michael and her half-brother Spock. And, I guess I saw much more in the first episode of series two, compared to series 1, I'd had to continue watching. There and then I decided to try and watch more of star trek discovery.... And as if tearing my left ankles tendon, with all that entailed wasn't enough, I ended up needing the dentist again, after a sleepless night and a very sore gum, at the front that also created a swelling at the side of my nose. So at eight thirty I'd been up, to make an emergency appointment...
I swear down, some day's I think I'm attached to that place by a spring.
The sore turned to an abscess and I'd been very pleased to get the emergency appointment, although after yet another sleepless night, I'd got an hour or so... then rose to look in the mirror and, been amused and irked by what I'd seen: thinking I looked like a chipmunk with half his cheek pouch full to bursting.
Time passed and so did a full course of Amoxicillin, And then, I arrived home on the Wednesday, after an emergency intervention, as the area around the right side of my face was still in pain and, although not swollen as it had been, there'd been a portion of solid pain, just to the right of my nostril, evidence of the course not been as effective as desired. So, injections had been given, both in the gum, then the roof of my mouth, after an electrical charge had seemed to shoot through the area he'd been working on. And then, the work had begun, which had entailed plan B, root canal work, in an effort to treat the infected area. Then as I sat to write it out, knowing soon the injections would be wearing off, the fellow next door was cleaning his driving with a high pressure hose, which did remind me somewhat, of the sound of the tool used just short while earlier. When he had stopped briefly, the silence had been joyous... Well two days and sleepless nights passed and there I was, sitting by the phone just after eight thirty, ringing to make an emergency appointment. At first I’d been offered 12:15, to which I'd said, “I have said, I can't do mornings...” There'd been silence. Then she'd offered me an earlier appointed and I'd repeated what I'd said. A pause later, she had said, “Come at two thirty and we'll fit you in between patients., so you'll have to be prepared to wait. Is that alright.”
“No problem,” I'd answered, “I'll just bring an exercise book with me and write awhile.”
As it was, I hadn't waited and been seen at pretty well two-thirty and downstairs, with a good dentist, Mr Nolan and his delightful assistant Jasmine. Well, an x-ray and prod later I'd left there with a prescription for metronidazole, an antibiotic I don't recall, being assured “It's good for face infections” and a warning, “No drinking, while you use it.” While I waited for the prescription to be filled I went for a smoke and a gin and rhubarb. I went home to have a gin and tonic, prior to making Dad's meal... Then over the next few days my faces shape changed drastically several times, as the new antibiotic affected the infection; which had seemed to work well.
Of course I'd followed the dentist’s instructions, with “ahem” distaste, 'no whiskey'. I'd even had 'young' Mike congratulate me for my courage for doing so. Yet truth be told, that had nothing to do with it: my reason for doing as told, (for once) was a simple on, I respect Mister Nolan, my dentist. My only regret had been that I'd still been on the new antibiotics when I went to see Mister Webb, the face fellow, who saw to me about five years ago and who I admire greatly.

I cannot recall ever being told I'm 'a godsend', or 'a lifesaver,' but that happened on Thursday when mike had arrived. It seems that his lady laurie just loves the gift I'd given him the week prior, a Samsung tablet. I'd bought it 'coz the price was good and the tech had intrigued me. But, as I'd quickly decided it wasn't part of my word, I'd decided to pass it on. And, as I'd learned on his visit, the gift of the tablet particularly pleased his lady, who I believe has decided it is hers. As he had told me that with a smile of understanding, I can take it that Mike's more than happy with what had occurred. As am I. Anyway, when he'd called I'd set up the new film 'Bohemian Rhapsody' at a certain point, when Freddie sings, which I'd then took forward a little to the Live Aid concert of 1985, that so many recall so well. It was portrayed well in the movie, very well and brought forth many good memories of the gig itself and the times. I'd been pleased the weather had let up for his return home, 'coz boy has it'd been stinking, of late. First there'd been the winds, the cold and then the rain hail and snow and then, more rain and cold. All-in-all, the weather's been... eventful.
Anyway, once Mike had gone I decided I needed to eat. I've a low immunity to many things and got the chest infection that'd been doing the rounds. And needless to say, I needed antibiotics, badly.
Which brings me back to making something I might want to smell and look at, besides wanting to eat, with ingredients proven to be okay for my gut. Knowing I'd been running low on energy for days, in part through lack of ongoing calories, this thing whatever I made, just had to be made.
Finally I'd made my swede and mackeral curry savoury, which I'd been to learn smelled good. As I had been cooking I 'd had the radio on listening to Radio Merseyside. I'd caught an advert during the show for a course being promoted, CPR for all, in the local area. Now in the past, I took a course, everytime I became unemployed and one of then I undertook, a few times, was CPR. My learning had eventually proven 'useful', when my Mother had nearly died, due to the flue. In turn, I'd been told by the emergency team who had arrived I'd saved a life. Saving my Mother's life had been needing, but had left me somewhat drained afterward. Needless to say, having heard the advert for the course, I'd soon found myself thinking back to the past and the feeling of satisfaction I'd felt on hearing that fellows word. So I'd written a little awhile then returned to the kitchen with my little camera, to evidence that I'd made myself something to eat.
And with little appetite I had eaten and, felt quite stuffed. And it does amuse me, in context, how we in Britain complain about the weather. The wind was bad as was the recent rain, but it's early in the year and my Antirrhinum still live and, that also amazes me, but then many of the plants show new growth, whilst others have died off for Winter and, then there'd been the snow. Now, whereas I say I don't know why we complain about the weather, I'd heard of 'how bad it was', then received an email from someone I know in the state of Michigan, in the United States and their snow was nine inches deep. I guess what I'm saying is that it's all a matter of perspective. Oh aye, talking of seeing, or in this case, not-seeing: it does seem strange to me that if I walk through the lounge in the dark with my glasses on, I can follow a path, without walking into anything, even if my eyes are closed. But, if I attempt to do the same thing without my glasses on, reading glasses an all, I'll walk into something or other; an it's virtually guaranteed that I'll do so an all. And I was talking of what is. Well, since I got ill, with all the consequent annoyances, cooking for myself can be a real chore. For a start, I now don't have an appetite for food, as such, albeit I know I need to eat to live. Yet, meals can bring bathroom hassle and, can negate the compulsion to eat that one might have had prior. That said, I do enjoy cooking and still enjoy doing so, all theses years on after watching me mum, at about five or so and thinking, 'I want to be able to create, like that.' Then the other night as I went to relax, after seeing to his meal, Dad came through to my room and said, “I told mum's photo that I've eaten well an, she smiled.' It had been a remark guaranteed to make me smile, as I know she wanted to go first, knowing I'd feed him well. That said, on a Thursday I didn't feel like eating at all, I ate swede and red pepper, fish and egg and mash and an egg blended and cooked, with a little curried fish blended in first. I served half, with a portion of carrot and a little flaked barley and milled wholemeal. All very sensible, just to illustrate I can be, sometimes... I baked Aunty Marion a cake, well.. tea-loaf... for her 89th, as she makes dad mince-pies and a Christmas cake and, even when her younger sister died, she still made dad his mince pies. so... for the first time in over twelve years, I baked a cake... which I then delivered by taxi.. and, after all that I do hope it wasn't over-baked... [like me.] I'd waited years, literally... for them to film 'In Like Flynn', based on his own 'mostly true' autobiography... well... the wait had been worth it... it's a rollicking good yarn: - obviously not expensive, but well mad for all that.
And... I don't think one would have to guess who fell and strained his left tendon as he crossed from his bed to his bedroom door. Needless to say, one had found cooking one's father's tea awkward. And... I wouldn't have minded, so much, if I'd imbibed beforehand... Yet as days passed by, I'd been able to stand properly and walk, so that on the Saturday I'd gone shopping for something special for Dad's tea, having already prepared him a favourite pudding, Angel Delight, Butterscotch flavour. I'd got to the CoOp and acquired what I'd wanted, then begun my homeward journey, with my foot beginning to give me real gyp. I'd stopped to rest awhile, then reminded myself of the Chinese proverb, that begins with one step. I had smiled, realizing my Dad's meal depended on that very 'one step', so made it. That night I'd gone cordon bleu, cooking brocilli and creamed cheese and blending it with salmon and serving it in half a red pepper. Truth be told, it looked as good as intended and though Dad always says, “I can't taste anything nowadays”, he had seemed to enjoy it. And, after my knee-rest I'd gone to finish making a soup for myself, knowing that an appointment on Monday with Hannah my nutritionist at The Royal would mean restricting my diet, just a tad. Thankfully I do like banana, blueberry's and cream and, fish soup... [although, not in the same bowl, of course...] And then the next night, as I'd thought of bed, I'd checked the calender, to see which bin went out the next morning: 'twas the green one, the rubbish bin and, not the grey bin as I'd expected, if I'd be in hospital the same day. And, it hadn't been the grey bin – it had been the green. It was then, through the pain in my foot, my desire for coffee and need for bed, that clarity came to me – I'd been a week early with my plans. That had been more than just a tad frustrating... Come the next morning, I'd got the bin out, then returned to bed... and, it had been as I'd risen to help Dad with the housework, I'd removed my left sock to check out my foot. The main bruising below my foot had dissipated somewhat and yet, two of my toes showed blue black and I'll swear down I'm glad that I could move them and they were not gangrenous... [I'd thought that 'coz I'd found myself thinking myself of Ian, his diabetes and, the removal of two of his own toes].
Housework had been exhausting, but routine is routine and Dad needs it and, I'm glad to help him...