The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Saturday and I sat to write,. My 'new' Windows 10 machine had just done its restart and I am pleased with it thus far, tho its got some peculiarities...
I am much better than I was: tho irritated to hell with my teeth. I had planned to go to the dentist anyway on Monday, to see about the broken tooth and, the one leaning inward and, the one sloping off my jawline slowly...
Then Friday morning I woke up and my two lower front teeth were loose and it looks like I'll be losing them both soon. Double grrr.
Well, over the weekend the wobblies got wobblier and occasionally painful. And, needless to say, come the day for the dentist, all three had stabilised somewhat although one still proved highly irksome indeed. Labelled an NHS dentist, the fellow had worked away, giving me any and every assurance he had felt able. Of that I am sure. Then, when I had left, almost exactly half an hour later, those three very irksome teeth had felt very different indeed and, the half tooth he'd ground down felt comfortable. He'd even worked on the palette, so it would align with the sideways slanting tooth on the right. I'd left feeling a hell of a lot better than when I'd walked in.
Unfortunately I found I was not able wear my top set, as one of the front teeth presses down on one of the wobbly teeth. That left me with my lower teeth an irritant and two pegs on the top, with a ruddy great gap between the two.
As a taxi driver commented with a grin, “It doesn't matter really does it, after all you've got to wear a mask nowadays.”
As it happens, what had been side-effects from the covid vaccine had turned to fatigue: and then I'd developed a chest infection, which had really been quite debilitating on at least three times. Finally I'd sought a doctor's aid; ending up with not only the antibiotics I'd sought, but steroids an all. I have bad memories of my Mum taking steroids when needed, as it had led to her bruising easily. Yet, needing to do something about my chest, antibiotics and steroids were to be taken,
Although I've recently managed to obtain many good audio's through YouTube, the new machine has recently a glitch whilst playing these files. That had led to me thinking it'd meant either the file, or the storage device. So I'd checked the file and copied thousands of them, onto another storage device; which had been highly irksome indeed.
Finally I thought of checking audio driver issues Window 10 and, it turned out that certain updates don't work with various types of machine; or the Realtek drivers might be providing issues; or you need to restart after updating.
I tried updating, then read more and, finally restarted...
Then I had sat cross-legged on the side of my bed and typed later I was able to play the last of a Superman story I'd been listening to, prior to my machine developing audio-related issues earlier on.

In a similar manner to the Superman and DC Comic audio's, I managed to obtain several well-made fan-made Doctor Who audio's; renditions of the Virgin New Stories range, which I'd heard of and not read myself.
So once again, stayin in during lockdown was made all the better...
Just as my chest starting getting better, the course of antibiotics ran out and I'd needed to request a second course. Halfway through the course, the tooth that leaning away from its neighbour broke in half: that had provided me with a sleepless night, as my tongue played with the sharp edges left behind.
Towards the end of Monday I'd sat to read my emails before writing: it transpired the young lady who shops for Dad I had written 'thank you', after I'd sent him our list.
I'd replied, “broken tooth, bad chest, general fatigue... all since the jab.
and you say 'thank you'.
hunnie, you're effin priceless. i do love you.”
Gawd, after all these yeaers, I'm ever so-greatful I know some good people.
Anyway, I'd had the two courses of Doxycycline and woke up one morning, looking very much like a chipmunk, as the sinus' in my face had decided to play up. So another phone-call had been made to the doctor's and I'd been called in to see the sister. I'd had all the checks, she felt needed; and she'd taken copious notes, which she had shared with a doctor downstairs, seeking clarification of her findings.
It seems albeit I'm low on oxygen, the stethoscope evidenced that my lungs seem clear, which had surprised the sister. “So do you want antibiotics?”
I'd thought of my face and, said “Yes.”
She had given me Clarithromycin, for my chest and face; informing me I'd be having an x-ray. It turns out that 'coz of covid, they don't have a walk-in service at Clatterbridge any longer and, one has to book.
The next day I'd had a phone-call and, got an appointment to suit, at the local hospital, near me.
On Sunday I'd looked in the mirror and my bedhead, pleased to note that I know longer look as much like a chipmunk, that I had. I still wake at 5:00 a.m. almost every morning: Five to five, or five past five, almost every morning.
In hindsight, it's been happening since 2009 and my Mum's death. She used to rise at that time, pottering round the house in her barefeet. She'd return to bed and rise, in time to seed to Dad's breakfast, after coughing cattarah up, for a good quarter of an hour, or so.
Well, except for the barefeet, that's what I'm doing of late: although, I have to wear socks, all-the-time as I've got raynauds syndrome.