Inchcock – Sun 25 October 20: I floated from neurasthenia, utopia, depression and slothfulness. Worra day!

TFZer Keith: ♫ ‘Home, home on the range…’ ♫ Hehehe!

Sunday 25th October 2020

HMONG: Hnub Sunday 25 Lub Kaum Hli 2020

03:15hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, with the Thought-Storms that had made such a mess of my getting to sleep, still active, nae, rampant in the grey cells! Fungleboggles!

The new pain in the stomach area where I injected last night was stabbing away at me, although it could have been Anne Gyna, it’s hard to tell at times. I wasn’t Duodenal Donald, I’m sure.

I was busy trying to ignore the fears, hatreds and overwrought distracted thoughts milling about in my bonce, and help soon arrived in the form of a sudden and critical demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.

I could sense the urgency, and feared that an embarrassing escapage was likely! Responding, by going into a semi-panic-stricken mode, a caution to the wind attitude was adopted, and I flailed about, knocking things off of the ottoman as I hauled my fat-fleshy, flaccid, flexuous, floppy, stomached heavy body onto my feet, got some balance, and was off to the wet room.

Hastening into the Throne-Room, the shoulder came into contact with the door frame, giving out a sicking crunching noise, and a jolt of pain! But this was not important at the time, getting the jammy-bottoms, and my bum on the toilet in time was more urgent (at least it took my mind off of the new stomach stings, Haha!).

This session was a real different one this morning, good and bad changes! Things flowed, to the accompaniment of the longest wee-wee I’ve ever had! The putrid aroma filled my lungs; the evacuation was over in a minute or so. Gawd, it was messy! It was a good job I have plenty of toilet paper in stock! The wee-weeing continued? Hard to tell really, but I do believe the wee-wee colour was lighter, at last! The gungy mass of stool filled the bowl so much, the wee didn’t have anywhere to go, and floated atop! Still, it took my mind off off the crunched shoulder and stomach pains for a while!

The tank had to be flushed twice to clear things, refilled by hand from the jug and sink. Then I had a soapy washing up, bleaching and sanitisationing session. Time for a feel of the shoulder, which the Accifauxpas did not set SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off?

No idea what it was on the arm, but I went to put some Savlon on it, and the lighter brown marks from this mornings clout into the doorframe, (I thought), nearly all disappeared, sort-of washed off?  Just the bluey-red bruises underneath left now. Logicality, common sense was questioned, and a certainty that the end is nigh for my limited remaining scraps of judgement and level-headedness! This ought to put on telly; there’s bound to be someone who can save my sanity and tell me what happened?

I now had mixed feelings. Glad that Constipation Konrad had been beaten at last – but this has taken some time and effort: Nine days of the four-a-day Dioctyl® stool softeners. The week of MacroBid® UTI antibiotics and several meals of Chilli-Con-Carne. Hahaha!

I was not looking forward to doing the injecting of the Enoxaparin, so got it dealt with first! The new hypodermic needles, which I suspected would have longer needles, didn’t! That was a nice discovery, a glimmer of luck at last?

All went smoothly, and the old Medical Sharps bin, was too full to use, so I started the new one-off. This made me think about getting rid of them. I looked it up of the NHS site. This is what I found.

All confused now! I’ve re-capped the mall! I’d better get them all out and sort them, before getting rid of them to the Pharmacy. I’m certain that the Nottingham City Council do not collect them, or there would be a special, dedicated box for them at these old folks flats?

Nope! I can’t open the box’s to get them out. Another plan goes to pot! And the shoulder is starting to smart now! Grumptiville! 

Ah, well, I got the Health Checks done, the old sphygmomanometer is still working. But the SYS is still too high. I wonder why? (I sigh!)

The no-contact thermometer was used, and, I got the camera all ready, to snap it before it self-turned off.

Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on the boil, and took this blind-snap of Chestnut Walk in the dark, below the thick-framed, new windows, that is impossible for disabled folk to get to for cleaning, thick-framed and obviously designed by someone who suffers from a hatred for the elderly and gerontophobia.

Made the brew of the tasty Glengettie tea, took the medications and got on the computer. I last nights photographs to CorelDraw. I faffed about a bit, going from one thing to another again, but eventually got the Saturday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Then Pinterested some snaps. Did some Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader. I found an email from Jenny, offering me some more yellow tomatoes, bless her cotton socks, she’s going to bring them down for me later today, bless her cotton socks. ♥

Time to get the ablutions sorted out, I took the mug to the kitchen and took a photo of the beautiful morning view, to compare with the earlier one.

Then, it dawned on me after I’d stripped to get the ablutions done. I’d not changed the timing on my time-pieces. So I did! I changed the clock in the kitchen, the wet room travel clock, the wall clock that fell of the wall and the casing broke, that is now balanced, resting on the fireplace top, but had a feeling I’d missed something, ah-well, not to fret.

So off I trotted (Trotted? Hahaha!) to the wet room, and had a marvellous session, mostly. There was nae bother from Toothache Thomas, and just three dropsies. The shaving had only two minor nicks, but several dropsies. The showering was the only blight of the session. I clouted the same wounded shoulder again, as I was coming up from retrieving the shower gel bottle (Six dropsies altogether in there). The showerhead escaped my clutches and landed on my overgrown painful already left big toe… Then bounced back up right into the cartilage-troubled right knees patella!

If I recall correctly, I silently mouthed something like “Tsk, never mind, can’t be helped!” (Yer!)

The doing of the medicationalisationing had only two incidents worth mentioning, I knocked several of the medications off of the floor cabinet, and clouted my head against the metal frame of the seat-raiser as I stretched with the picker-upperer, to retrieve the Germoloid and Savlon tubes. Gragnangles!

Got dressed and had a search around for the hat I went into the wet room wearing, I’m sure I did, but it’s never been seen since. More of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ They are working hard this morning!

I got the jammy-bottoms washed, all done, wrung and hung to dry, above the sink. Which proved later to be an idiotic thing to do, as I would need to use the sink while preparing Josie’s dinner! Crumpalisations!

The new pains in the left of the chest returned. I was surprised I noticed really, cause there are that many ailments having a go at me at the same time. The bruised arm, Duodenal Donald, the PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), The toenail on the left foot, and just started, Reflux Roger. Silver-Lining-Result-Search-Result: At least the others are being kind to me. Humph!

I got the fodder made up, it was not easy, because (Big mouth here) SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was kicking off, I was getting soaked each time I used the sink, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were letting me down. I was making more mess than ever before, and getting more het-up each time.

Still, Got it finished, it was just the thought of having to tackle all that was cleaning up afterwards that took the edge off what should have been my proud moment.

Pickled egg, silverskin onions, tomatoes, gherkins, sweet young carrots, anchovies, Tuna steak mixed with some balsamic vinegar and mayonnaise. And, of course, my world-famous, cheesy-mashed-spuds. I went the whole-hog today with them. New Zealand butter, sea salt, Squid vinegar, and parsley and black pepper, with just a drop of olive oil. I hope Josie likes them.

I got them delivered to her door, she asked what this and that was, and retired to feast on it (I hope). I got back in the kitchen and wondered who’d dropped the bomb, of course, the mess had been made by an army of contributors. Me, SSS, Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun and Saccades Sandra, to mention a few. Hehehe! But they didn’t help in cleaning up the picklement the kitchen was in, did they? Oh, no, that was left down to me. Swine!

As I had just got down on my knees to clean around the sink, where the dripping pyjamas had spilt over, and the door chimes rang out. At first, I thought it might be Josie with a problem or question, but no! I opened the door to see a wonderful sight! Jenny had been come up and delivered her treat for me, right outside the door; the yellow tomatoes. Double bless her! ♥ I don’t know how she got them so late in the year, but so appreciate her gesture. I got them in the fridge, ready to have later.

As I finished the cleaning up, Duodenal Donald doubled his determined damned pain giving efforts, and Dizzy Dennis returned. Tsk!

I got back on Computer Cameron to u[date this blog a little further. Then had a look for any new comments on WordPress. Two had come in, replied to them both.

Then went on the Sainsbury site, to increase my order for next Tuesday, of Chilli-con-carne. All done!

I visited the ‘Your Area’ latest newsletter.

Nosh prepping next, so weary suddenly. But it went well, but once again the various ailments meant me making a mess as I went along. Tsk!

Got the evening medications ready as I went along, and the plate of food served up. Not one of my tastiest efforts, but the Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes were great. I think maybe the Enoxaparin is playing tricks with my taste buds? Flavour rating: 6/10.

Got the pots in the sink to leave soaking. It’s the mess that the cheesy potatoes make yer know! I pretended to do some clearing up in the bomb-site (kitchen), but not a lot, in fact very little… well, hardly any!

The evening sky was worth a photo-taking, so I did.

None of the amazingly vivid colours of last night, but a blend of peaceful shades. And peaceful sounds good, and needed, to me!

Inchcock Today – Saturday 24th October 2020:

TFZer Get-Together in their Cool-It-Cabin ♥

Saturday 24th October 2020

Zulu: NgoMgqibelo Ngomhlaka-24 Okthoba 2020

Not feeling too good. Done this in brief

01:50hrs: Up needed Porcelain Throne. To the wet-room, magnificent evacuation, although ultra-pongy and messy.

But Little Inchies lesion worried me, took a long time to stop it, and I feel so drained, lifeless, eyelids drooping, and Duodenal Donald was having a go at me.

Got the first Enoxaparin injection done, I imagine doing this to a vet, would remind him of doing a blubber sperm whale. Hehe!

Cleaned up, and medicated best I could, I think I may go through a few pairs of PPs today.

Got the Health checks done, checked the Emails, and spent hours and hours doing the updating of yesterdays blog.

No particular ailment to blame individually, but I was so fatigued, concentration was the worst thing, or I should say lack of it!

I did get it finished, after a lot of error finding and correcting. I’ve most likely missed no end of them. I may have to take a break from doing them for a bit unless things improve, that will break my heart.

Sent the email link off. Pinterested. Facebooking. Got into a right mess for a few more hours getting lost doing the template.

Had a break and pot of noodles for a late breakfast.

I tried to pull things together the Pharmacist should be bringing the Hypodermics after 16:00hrs, but of course that can mean any time, could it not?

I wanted to stop everything and get down for a rest, from the brain, as well as the pain. There you are poetry again! Hehe! But I must stay awake so as not to miss the chemist prescriptions. I’m thinking, that may be the Enoxaparin is all out of date. Has taking these, made me feel like I do after injecting them? Some were, I know, but a different brand, I can’t find any use-by date on, so getting the new ones are urgent.

I can’t do anything, memory and concentration shot to pieces, never felt like this before. Even Herberts not so noisy today. I took the second injection, and noticed how extra pale the body had gone? The thin blood I sup[pose with the Warfarin level being so low. Hey-Ho!

I made brew of the decaffeinated tea, tasteless-crap! Threw it away and made a proper mug of Glengettie. Then opened daily ‘YourArea’ Emagazine to look for any updates on the Nottingham Coronavirus situation. Then it began to rain, Hey-Ho!.

Well, things didn’t look and sound too good on the Pandemic front.

By the time I’d read the magazine and made up the graphics above, the drizzly rain turned a little heavier, then more so, ending up with it belting down! Torrenting! And it seemed set in for the rest of the day.

Then, Porcelain-Throne session three arrived.

Prepped bacon and beans ready for when the needles arrive.

Watched more YouTube rubbish, but it kept me awake!

The Chemist arrived, bless him with the Enoxaparin. I had a look on the box and leaflet for any use-by-date, couldn’t find any, but it did say they were made, EU/1/16/113/2018. I did have a few, well two, 40ml hypos, with a date on that ends in a week, so used them up tonight.

Took the meds and medicationalised things. Little Inchies fungal lesion, is still bleeding a fair bit. Went in the kitchen to get the nosh prepared, and the heavens had opened even more. I took this photo through the bottom window.

Got the bacon and beans served up, and got down to in the recliner to digest them.

A taste rating of 8.5/10 was given. Delicious, naughty but nice. I haven’t had any bacon for ages; I think this is why I enjoyed them so much.

I was really miffed when I couldn’t get off to sleep, I felt so weary, but the Thought-Storms were rampant.

TTFNski.

Inchcock (In Briefly) – Friday 23rd October 2020: As a defeated-fantasist, I’m losing all hope of anything ever going right again, here!

TFZers Gather at the Cabin! ♥

Friday 23rd October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 23 Hydref 2020

02:35hrs: A rather abrupt diary today, folks. Medical issues have got be all behind, frustrated, irked and most irritable with life. But there you go!

 After a wee-wee, it was time to sort out the medicationalisticalisationing things to get the Health Checks, medications taken, and Enoxaparin injection is done.

I’d made a cock-up with counting the Sodium needles, so will need to talk to Warden Dean later, to see if she can ring the Doctors and Chemist for me. (to see if the prescriptions have gone out, and the chemist can deliver them for me)

Just getting the injections done, there were two this morning 2x40ml, was a mammoth job. I tried different ways to avoid any accidents in the event of Nicodemus, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Peripheral Pete’s right leg dancing kicked-off, while I was injecting. I’m sure I had an idea to try something last night, but it’s gone now. Tsk! It all went fine, though. I reckon that yesterday’s pain was cause I was doing it to straight and going in too far. Lesson learnt! The old Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer machine worked perfectly. But the results were far from good. Tsk!

I like the new thermometer. I set it about four-inched from the forehead, and the reading was okay, but yet again I forgot to get the camera ready and had to do it again when it turned of rather quickly and caught me out. A lot of things do that! Hehe!

I got the Nikon camera to take a photograph of the morning view from the finger-trapping, light and view-blocking, rain letting in, deadly for old folks to get at to clean, new kitchen windows.

Got on the computer and had an awful lot of photos to sort out first before I could use them. And between SSS and Nicodemus, along with the worst ever service from Fries Liberty-Global internet crap service, without going down, mind, it took me hours to get the job done.

I was getting all het-up, bothered and angry!

The time was flying by, and it was time for the Ablutions to be done. Everything was taking ages to get done, corrected, and one again. And no calls to the Throne either!

I got the Ablutions tended to, a painful, frustrating task, that left me with a stubbed toe, three shaving cuts, a multitude of dropsies done, and banging myself against the shower chair afterwards, meant Little Inchies fungal lesion started to bleed! Grrr! But at least the ankle ulcer looked such a lot betterer.

The medicating was messy and painful, and I then had to get dressed so I could go out to speak with Warden Deana and got a second stubbed toe as I lost my balance getting the shoes on. Greggleckle! 

I got the waste bags made up and into the trolley, and a coat and hat on, out to the waste-chute, then down on the lift to the caretaker bins. No one around at all to natter to, or even give a good-morning to. I dropped the recycling bag off, and put the empty jars in the Green Glass bin, and walked to the Wardens holding-cell office.

Deana was out working, so I explained the worries over the medications and prescriptions to Julie. It took a while, and the day was shooting by me. I left and took these photos from the foyer in Winwood Court as I got out, then started a hobble back top Woodthorpe Court; but I didn’t get far. I remembered that I’d not left the WC signs, asking people not to put anything down them, other than TP. (The signs were delivered damaged yesterday afternoon by the Post Office, eight days late!)

So, I went back to Winwood Court. And Deana was back from her visits. Lost more time explaining again, and DEan kindly rang the Doctors for me and confirmed the prescriptions had been sent electronically to Carrington Pharmacy. She rang them, but there was no answer. Shell try again later, and let me know the outcome, Bless her. As in the pictures, I didn’t see a soul all the way back home. I was getting more uptight as the day went on.

When I finally got back in the flat, I still hadn’t got yesterdays blog done or sent off. But got the meal going first. I was so far behind now; I got the pictures taken while outside, done first on CorelDraw and put the in the WordPress gallery ready for later.

I took the medications and was about to make a start on finishing the Thursday post. When xyrophobia suffering, over-amour-propred Brother-in-law Pete, who, when searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electric and played with them. Now the recliner no longer works, rang. Bless him; he was concerned cause he’s not got the link via email for the blog.

We had a good natter, which cost me so much more time to get things done. But I really enjoyed the laughter. Bless, Pete as well!

Then the Porcelain Throne was needed, and it was more painful, nugget-mode, unbelievable the agony, and it was obvious, that Constipation Konrad was back in charge again. Kranklebudders!

Hours late, I got the blog finished off. Sent the link via email. Pinterested. Got the Facebook catch-up done. Started this blog. Too late to continue now, I was shattered mentally.

Went to check the meals progress and the sky suddenly became brighter, got the Nikon and took this photograph. A fascinating cornucopia of different types of clouds and colours combined to offer the opportunity to try and take a photographic gem. Bootiful! Can you see the head and face I spotted, in my tendency towards nephophilia, and apophenia? A fish, dog or a flying monster?

I got the evening tablets taken, and the meal served up. This chilli-con-carne came out a little hotter than the last one, so didn’t enjoy it as much as the te search of sleep.

Amazingly, I was off into the land of nod. But, within minutes… 

The danged Landline burst into life and woke me up! It might be the clinic about the Bowel Scan appointment? The DVT Warfarin about the Enoxaparin sodium injections, the Dentist.. no they wouldn’t ring this late. I’ll have to answer it, Thunderclaps! I’d hope they might ring off before I got to the line, but no. The PKCCP Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain in the right knee had never given me so much pain before, as I hobbled to answer the phone. All that unwanted effort and agony, and what happens? Whoever it was heard my voice and rang-off!

Worse still, could I get back to sleep again? No! Grobognangles! Grobbleknangles! Frangleklops! and Oy-yoy-yoy!

As for the knee’s cartilage pain… Argh!

Ah-well; here’s hoping for a better day tomorrow. (Not spoken as an optimist, more a defeatist fantasist!)

Inchcock Today – Thursday 22nd October 2020: Back on the Enoxaparin Injections, so anticipate losing mind-control for a while. (Any excuse, Hehe!)

TFZer Thomas Hahaha!

Thursday 22nd October 2020

Spanish: Jueves 22 de Octubre de 2020

02:10hrs: When I eventually got to sleep, I enjoyed 4½ uninterrupted hours of dream-free, bliss! Heavenly!

The regular wee-wee was needed by myself, and it was another dribbling a few drops and gently spraying it around. Tsk! However, on testing the colour, it had gone a shade lighter, at last! I’m not going to get too hopeful though, cause the antibacterial capsule have finished now, antibacterial? No, that’s wrong, antibiotics, I meant. So, after 12 days of taking them, and finishing the course, things improve?

My mind was not too sharp this morning (Not that ever is, Hehe!). I got a wash, and then fumbled and bumbled my to the kitchenette, and took two snaps of the morning skyline view. (Later, I doctored them as best I could on CorelDraw, to make this picture below. Not too bad.

Got the kettle on, and did the Health Checks. I opened the wrong medical drawer and got the Boots machine out, instead of the new one. I decided to try it anyway, and blow-me-down, it worked!?!? I’ll keep using this while it lasts, it’s quicker than the new tin-covered one.

The SYS was a bit high again. I thought I’d push my luck and try the old thermometer, but it wasn’t playing, so I got the new laser one, but was disappointed in the low reading. Still, I don’t think that 32.4°c is too bad. I’m sure it has been lower than that at times.

I got the computer on, and found this graphic I’d taken off the screen yesterday, and forgot to publish it. It’s the latest figures for Nottingham for Coronavirus. The ‘Your Area’ E-newsletter arrived, and I had a quick perusal of it. And in the comments section at the bottom of the page, I came across this contribution: I don’t know if it’s right or not, but if it is, I’m not happy about it:

I got carried away again there, sorry.

As I was about to take the second Dioctyl of the day, then a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, l was off to the wet room again.

Well, such a pleasant surprise there, mate. Even less pain, no bleeding or mess, and from start to finish, took only a couple of minute! Mind you; the tank had to be flushed three times to rid the evacuated matter! Hey-ho!

Back to the computer, I plodded. To find that Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet, kept clonking out and coming back on. Grrr! So the updating of yesterdays blog took much longer than it should have. Thank you, Mr Fries!

I made a start on this blog. And shortly, the Vampire Angel Nurse Hristina arrived, and in a hurry, got me sorted out, and still managed to have little gossip as well, which was nice. She asked what the noise was, and I explained it was just ‘Herbert’ making his train models. I do love that gal, nothing naughty in it, she’s just a beautiful, caring person.

I tried to do an Iceland order for next week. Got on alright, did the ordering, okay, but, the system would not take my PayPal payment, I was getting sent all over the place to get back on, but it was no use, I gave up in the end, and, frustrated, and a little worried in case I’d been high-jacked? I cancelled the order manually and had to do a Sainsbury one instead.

I was concerned that after I got the order done, they might not take my payment – Worried? Me? – Yes!

The Morrison order is due today, and I was slowly moving into a Defcon-2 panic mode. I got the Sainsbury order finished, and there was no problem with the payment? But the usual confirmation via email has not come in? Glibblebonks! Always summat to worry about! Hello, it’s just come in, Phew!

I looked at the E-Magazine again and came across this item about the Nottingham City Homes flat complex in Clifton. It was about the garages being demolished. Blimey, that’s a high block! Saccades Sandra is stopping me counting at the moment, but it must be 24 storeys or so high. Impressive

I had a look for any Coronavirus updates when the new Email came in. But none in there.

Then the Morrison delivery arrived. I got them took through to the kitchenette post haste.

Got the bits put away, and set to getting the Jenny stuff in a separate carrier bag, to take down to her apartment. I’d ordered some things for Jen, Doris and Frank to nibble as a thank you.

But, it turned out I’d got substitutes that I cannot eat, or don’t like. Also… I may have made an error, thinking that the strawberry and cream dessert was an individual one; it turned out to be a massive bowlful! Ah, well, at least they can eat them up.

No refuse sacks, Bramley apple pie, or soft sandwich thins delivered. And as for the 2 x 3oz, Zoflora orange disinfectant, none of that either – they sent 3 x Cheapo Pibne disinfectant, and they were ¾ pint jobs! Why do they make substitutes like that, Grrr! The apple pie was subbed with apple & blackcurrant ones, which I don’t like (Blackcurrants). Add to the misery with my pwn cock-up in ordering a mammoth dessert for a tiny individual one, and it was a bit of disaster today with shopping all around.

I got the waste bags on the trolley to go out with me to the chute, and two carrier bags, one inside the other, with Doris and Jenny’s treats in, there was more than I had planned, but it’s lovely to think that a pair of lovely ladies can have a treat!

Off to the waste chute room, dropped down the bags, and returned to the lift, down to Jenny’s, rang the bell, I was struggling to open the door and get the trolley through, and Jen appeared and thanked me. Lif back up and in the flat. Struggling even more getting the trolley back inside, I fear, well, I know, that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, was readying himself, and building up to launch into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances. It’s the tingling and wobbly knee-cap that gives him away. Hahaha!

Got the oven on and put the fish in to cook, and updated as far as here on the blog. Had enough now, time to eat and collapse, before the leg-dancing starts, I hope.

By Gawd, that was such a tasty meal, not a lot, but it went down a right treat! Mmm! A Taste-Rating of 8.5/10! Got the pots in the sink to soak, had a swig of the pathetic Peptac antacid, washed, and made my way back to the recliner to take the medications and get my head down.

As I had just got down on the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched the half-anticipated right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routines. It honestly couldn’t have been better timed for once! I was snug and safe from falling over onto the floor as well! The leg offered up its version of a faltering, single-legged cross between the Cha-cha-cha and the Rumba!

Had it not been for the clouting of the toes, ankle and knee against the recliner and ottoman, I would have enjoyed it! I anticipated finding a couple of new bruises in the morning methinks.

I got the TV on and kept taking swigs of the spring water, as the Doctor ordered, to help get the bacterial infection and colour of the affected wee-wee down. But not for long, within about an hour, I found I was battling against the drooping eyelids to watch the TV, and that was good enough for me.

I turned off the gogglebox, and was in a deep sleep, dreaming about a black and a tabby cat, who were adoring each others company, and in the dream, I got a cream cake out to eat… the cats went berserk, and all hell was let loose as they fought each other to get to the cream first! Much more happened, I think, but this is all I could remember at the time of writing this. I found the photo to use, on Google, it is just like they were, all lovey-dubby before the cream came to disturb their bliss. Hehehe!

Immediately after, or it may have been during the dream, I woke up with a start, and could hear a grinding noise, that was loud, but died away quickly. I’ve no idea what it was or where it came from. But this did not bother me, and somehow I was soon back off in the land of nod again!

Deep in slumber once again, and the Landline flashed away, and I fought my way out of the recliner, clouting my elbow en route to the phone.

It was the lady from the QMC (Queens Medical Centre) Warfarin Anticoagulation, and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis), INR Assessment Clinic, with the semi-panic-creating blood-test results. 

I knew what was coming. The first thing the lady said was: ‘Have I woke you up?’, I replied, ‘Yes, thank-you’ and offered a laugh with it. Getting a giggle back from her, assured me she was a good one to talk to. The lady informed me that the INR result was only 1.3 (Target being 3.2). If I go below 1.2, it means hospitalisation for me.  I knew what was coming, time to go on the Enoxaparin injections again, I was right. She asked if I had any in stock, and I stumbled to the kitchen to have a look at what was there; I’d got two 40ml, and three 80ml hypodermics in the drawer. “Oh, good, then you’ll last until Monday, 80ml a day. Another blood test will be done then. ‘I’ll ring your Doctor and tell her of the urgent need for the Enoxaparin needles’. I asked, does this mean I’ll have to go to Carrington to collect them?’ – ‘Yes!’ I was losing my sense of humour now!

I wrote down the new Warfarin dosages, for up to Monday, and the dates etc. I hope, looking at my half-asleep writing, that I can read and understand them in the morning. The Warfarin doses were plain enough, I think—3 tablets tonight, and 2½ daily in the evenings until Monday. I mentioned to the nurse, the Dioctyl and MacBid tablets I’ve been on and why. She thinks these may have had some effect on the Warfarin level. I, on the other hand, knew what the problems had been that caused this emergency.

Obviously, with the Coronavirus, things are so much harder for the staff, and some have been moved to help deal with the virus. So, in their wisdom, the NHS has decided to investigate and free-up more staff for the Covid-19 wards, by not doing any home calls for Warfarin takers, but tell them to go to the hospital for their blood tests! Christ, I hope they never do that to me!

The other thing they have been doing is; if any patient gets three in-range INR results on the trot, they will leave it three weeks until the next one, which has just happened to me, hence, now my at risk grading has gone up. I can look forward to the agony of fetching my medications, giving myself injections, and am now all in a muddle in what needs doing, when and why! Flibblegonkackles! Still, it’s not nice to complain.

I thanked the lady, and set about sorting the medications, and will leave them out on the clothes airer, so I don’t forget to take them. I felt a positive fool when I found a couple more Enoxaparin hypos!

Well, I didn’t know fully where I was or supposed to be doing by then. Oh, yes, the needle! I got the injectionalisationing done. There is a lot more flobby-blubber around the boing-boing overweight stomach to pick a spot to puncture nowadays. Humph! Haha!

Not having done any injecting for a few weeks, it made me jump a bit. I think that Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters let me down, and I pushed the needle in a little too hard, but the message did not get to the brain in time? A lot of that is happening lately, Hahaha! Hey-ho!

Worran ‘orrible end to the day!

And ask for sleep, huh!

Inchcockski – Wednesday 21st October 2020: I had a few Cacoethes urges, today. Mmm?

Wednesday 21st October 2020

Punjabi: ਬੁੱਧਵਾਰ 21 ਅਕਤੂਬਰ 2020

23:00hrs (Tuesday): I stirred after at least an hours sleep, (Humph!) needing a wee-wee. I forced my gargantuan-bellied body out of the c1968 recliner, stood to catch my balance, grabbed metal Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) and made my way to the wet room. I keep a clear basin in their nowadays, to check the colour, against the NHS guide. It was still on code six colouring, so no progress gleaned whatsoever with using the Dioctyl® antibiotic capsules for nearly a week now. Humph! I had a good wash and antisepticating session and made my way to the kitchenette, to get the kettle on first, then get the Health-Checks done.

The new slow-motion, noisy tin-encased BP sphygmomanometer, showed a highish level for the SYS again, but the pulse was down a fair bit. (I checked later with Mr Google, about the Sys 164/Dia 167 level) He told me: Blood pressure 164/67 – what does it mean?: Your blood pressure reading of 164/67 indicates Hypertension Stage 2. It is the second stage of high blood pressure. Hypertension Stage 2 means that the heart has to work hard too to ensure a supply of the entire tissue in the body. Oh!

I used the non-contact thermometer and got a reading of 32.1°c, which I thought was a bit too low.

So I tried it again and got 33,9°c, I held it a little closer to the forehead this time. I’ll still get to find out how close it should be when using. I got the magnifying glass and had a look at the instructions, not easy; it was in such minuscule writing. But with my SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) shaking my about, it was hard to hold the paper steady, and being so magnified, every movement blurred. I found it was a recommended distance of 3-5cm. After some farting about with arithmophobia infected calculations, I think that 1.5748cm = 4 inches, which is about what I had the second reading of. I’m not sure if I have Numerophobia, mathematics-anxiety or arithmophobia, but 3 to 5 inches then? Hang, that’s where I started with centimetres! I’ve got a headache now!

I stopped to take a snap of the morning view, but it didn’t come out well.

I took the medications, but no requirement for any of the pathetic, pitiable, low, Peptac antacid medicine this morning, as Duodenal Donald is currently giving my only the slightest bit of pain? Bless him!

So, after discovering from Mr Google, that I was about to snuff it, through hypertension, or high-blood-pressure, I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. It might not help the situation, but this. Extra Strong Assam, and the Glengettie teas, are all super-tasty! Hehe!

I got onto the computer, but only had time to boot it up, and the demand for a Porcelain-Throne visit arrived. The balance was right as I hobbled to the wet room, no walking into anything, this was good!

I got settled on the seat, and within a few seconds and a little encouraging pushing on my behalf, the action started – painful, yes, but no more than usual, all over fairly quickly, and tons of it! But no chance to do a turd examination for the hospital checking-log, the mass had disappeared from view! No mess, the tiniest specs of blood, and even Harold’s Haemorrhoids were relatively calm as well! But experience told me not to get into any hopeful or smug modes, yet! One flush and the TP vanished, surprises galore this Wednesday morning!

A good wash, medicationalisationing and disinfecting, and back to the computer. I concentrated on the updating of the Tuesday blog, photographs uploaded first. With Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters also being so kind to me, I achieved my goal quicker today. Now, I couldn’t help but get into a Smug-Mode! Hahaha! This luck can’t last, yer no!

I posted the blog off then Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching-up. Then went on the WordPress Reader section.

Duodenal Donald started to warm up with his usual tightening in readiness for a full-blown ‘Let’s give Inchcock some agony’ attack. At the same time, the innards started rumbling, so I can expect to return to the Porcelain Throne again soon.

I made a pot of tatties and veg with cheese for brekkers, but as I was making it, I had to rush, hell-for-leather to the Porcelain Thrones second-visitation! However, I can safely report, this session was an emphatical improvement; on the previous few days! However (There’s always something to gum the works up!), the tank needed filling by hand, and three flushes to move things down the hole. I had an excellent wash-up session.

Back to the kitchen to try and rescue the pot of potatoes. I added a drop more freshly boiled was to the pot, mixed some vegetable stock and Squid vinegar to it and had an excellent bashing up with it. Ate it all, enjoyed it and was feeling okay in myself.

I returned to the kitchen to take these three shots on the right. Two of along Chestnut Walk in the drizzle and dank, dark surroundings, eerie eh? The last one, I took directly opposite the impossible to get to clean without being an olympian athlete. The light & view-blocking, rain letting in, with a ledge that sticks out so far, one cannot see down onto the roadway to take pictures of the incoming fire engines and paramedic ambulances. The layout, that was most likely created and designed by a person with gerontophobia. A confirmed inter-generational hater or who loves to hear of some old git tumbling off of his step ladder, each time he tries to reach up to get at his new windows to clean them. Just thought I’d mention it!

As I was putting the camera away, I saw that I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running yet again! Boulderclumps! What an imbecilic nincompoop! I seem to be doing this every other day lately!

I made a mug of Glengettie tea and had a blast on the computerisationing for an hour or so, and then it was time for the ablutioning to get done. Dare not leave it any later, because I’ve no idea what time the vampire nurse will be calling to take my blood sample.

Doing the ablutions today is going to be either fun, a farce, or both, with no hot tap water to shave! The shower should have hot water, though.

I stripped and got the teggies cleaned, then reboiled the kettle and took it with me back to the wet room, to use taking a shave. It was not a comfortable, messy shave, and certainly not a good one, but I managed. My fault anyway. Humph!

Thank heaven, the shower water was nice and hot. But, lamentably, several dropsies. I had two hefty bangs against the grab rail, a toe-stubbing against the shower chair, spoilt the experience. Then, doing the medications, I knocked many items of of the floor cabinet. So things didn’t end up too well for me, but I’ve had much worse sessions, so no complaints. I can say, however, that the Morrison bought lemon shower gel, really was refreshing and smelt okay to me!.

All sorted out, and I returned to the computer room, and nipped out on the balcony, to take some photographs. The first one from the opened window to the right, weel, the left one as well. They both have the near-lethal, metal spring opening clips, that have caused a fitter to bleed, even after I’d warned him, and many a stranger to get blood-blisters opening it, both of them as well as myself on many occasions! I reported this fault to the Nottingham City Homes Repairs team, who about six weeks later, sent two men down to take an investigative look, one of them got the blood blister and cut. They agreed it was dangerous and should not have been put in old people residences and said they would report it as soon as they get back to base. That was encouraging. It was also many months ago, and I’ve heard nothing from them since. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain does yer.

The second photo was taken from the injury-causing, left end window. That was of a stretch of Chestnut Walk to towards the but turn-around island. A few red vehicles on site today, this will need reporting to the Ohio State, National Red Car Monitoring head-honcho, Billumski and his, Secretary Lisa!

I set about making a template for tomorrows blog. Got it finished… Hello, Herberts got his drill out again, flipping loud too! Still, as long as the flamboyant, happy-go-lucky, sociable chap is happy making his train sets. I could have said, “As long as the grumpy, sour, antisocial, snotty, stand-offish, aloof, eremetic old gentleman is happy…”

I got a landline call from Nottingham At Care HQ, to tell me that the INR vampire nurse was outside trying to get in, and the intercom was not working. Pickleglobknobs!

I told the lady that I’d get down as quickly as I could to let her in. Fumbled about getting the jammy-bottoms off and some trousers on. I dug out the keys and fob, put the mask on, and as I got to the door, the landline rang again. It was the same lady as before, to tell me that the Vampire Nurse had given up, she’ll try again tomorrow!

I bungled about getting the trousers back off, and the jammies back on. Put the keys and fob back, and hung the mask on the trolley bars. Life gets so very complicated, blustery and confusing, dunnit?

I turned off the computer, and started to put the potatoes from the crock-pot into the saucepan which held the Chilli-Con-Carne, with chopped tomatoes, onions and a can of baked beans added, put some Squid to the mix, and gave the food medley a jolly-good stirring.

Burning my right-hand index finger as I did so, but at least there was no pain, just the odd burning smell of the skin. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had failed to inform the brain again. (I still find it humorous when this happens, Hehehe!)

I phoned Jenny, and we had a marathon nattering session which I enjoyed. Top-quality grumping and chuntering took place, and we were in our element, we do this so well, I reckon. Hahaha! During the chinwagging, Jenny asked me what the noise in the background was. I explained that it was Herbert, drilling, doing his train sets. It must have been loud for Jen to hear it on the other end of the line? (Although it didn’t last much longer, thankfully)

I thought I could smell something burning, panicked a smidge, told Jenny I had to check things out with the cooking and would be back, and blustered my way to the kitchen… to find that nothing was burning at all, in fact; instead of turning down the heat on the saucepan when I’d left to phone Jenny, I’d turned it off! What a plonker! As I returned, I noticed a smell of fish coming from somewhere in the hallway, so that might have been what got me going, either Josie or Malcolm must have been cooking fish, Haha!

I got back to Jenny, who’d waited patiently for me, and we continued our conversationing. A few more chunter and laughs, I even heard Franks voice in the background wishing me well saying hello, and I’ve never heard him before – I think the Chilli is good for my earholes? I am a fool! We parted with a farewell, and I went back to doing the meal.

Fifteen minutes later, the Chilli-Con-Carni was all served up on the tray, with two Irish Potato Farls and a pot of lemon mousse on the tray. By, gum, I eat well for an old fart!

I took the evening medications with me, so I could take the new tablets as recommended, with food. And there was a right bucketload of that in the dish, by gum it was good—Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, highly acceptable. Hopefully, in the morning, the first visit to the Porcelain Throne might be more comfortable… or not. Haha! My EQ tells me it could well be, though!

 Annoyingly, Sweet Morpheus was a long time coming again, but when he did, I had an unbroken straight-through, four-and-a-half hours of sweet bliss! Ahh!

Inchcock – Tues 20 Oct 20: An incomprehensible, abstruse, recondite, discommoding day!

TFZers Going for a ride?

Tuesday 20th October 2020

Finnish: Tiistai 20 Lokakuuta 2020

00:00hrs: I awoke, with a medley of muffled and confusing thoughts hammering around the brain box. No wee-wee or Porcelain Throne needs to distract me this morning, meant a few minutes and headache gained by the time I pulled my concentration away from the malaise, of the muddled-melange of omnium-gatherum thoughts, fears, ambitions, and intentions, which did not stand a cat-in-hells chance of success, I’d nodded off again!

00:30hrs: The second-stirring: Suddenly wide awake, no Thought Storms either! I heaved, huffed and puffed, released my colossally-stomached with scrawny limbs attached, body and the bald-head, (No mean-feat at my weight, I can tell yer!), from the c1968 recliner. To find that Duodenal Donald was in a bad mood again, and giving me some stick. (It’s about time he gave me a break!) Still, there was no wee-wee wanted? Caught my balance easily enough this time, no falling back down on the recliner and bursting Harold’s Haemorrhoids… A tentative Smug-Mode was adopted! And I limped off to the kitchenette with Metal-Mickey. To get the Health Checks done.

I’ve got the hang of the new BP sphygmomanometer, but I must remember it takes three times as long to come to a result, as the old one did. If I remember, I’ll try the old one again in the morning, to see if it’s not the ‘New’ Duracell batteries that are the problem). The SYS was high again, Tsk!

The  No-Touch thermometer worked alright, but it turns itself off too quickly. I’ll try to make sure the camera is nearby in future; it read at first as 32.4°c – I retook it, and got 33.9°c? Another thing to remember, I must look it up on Mr Google, to find out how far away from the head to take the temperature from. I’m doing it about four inches? I hope any advice I get is in proper inches and not metric.

Took the medications and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Note in the picture, the Morrison skewer? These have a thick end and are easier for when I want a really strong cuppa, I can squash the bag against the cup. Difficult, nae, impossible when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters are playing up.

I got a few potatoes in the crock-pot, plenty of Squid and distilled vinegar to flavour them. I added a bit of black pepper to them later on.  I’ll turn them on later. (Famous last words?)

I may not be a Chef de cuisine, but for a 44-year-old, failure, I keep trying. I’m getting betterer… Alright, alright, so I got the age a few months out! Hahaha!

I got onto the computer and answered some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. Then got on with updating the Monday blog, which seemed to take longer than ever. Mind you, a lot of photograph uploads, and doctoring was needed to the bad ones, so it looks like I took them right, the first time.

Nicodemus’ neurotransmitters were making it hard work, and Duodenal Donald was not helping my concentration at all. (Sodding useless Peptac!)

Aha, a sudden but non-urgent call to the Porcelain Throne arrived! So I saved all the work, turned of Computer Cameron, and decided to get the Ablutions done after the Throne Session. (Did yer see that? A cantlet of organisational-ability crept in, there! Oh, yes!)

Another stand-up job, too early to use the shower, with the Iceland delivery being expected early today.

Well, the Throne Session caught me out altogether. With being on the Dioctyl©, and taking the Macrogol, I anticipated a much easier session than the one I suffered! And with having eaten the Chilli-Con-Carne last night, I believed things would go a lot easier this time – But No! Constipaiton Konrad seems to be counter-attacking! After four days of lesseningly painful sessions, this one bounced back to Defcon Two standards! Agonyisticalisations! The Silver-Lining Search results: At least there was only a smidgeon of bleeding. I think the nurse is due to call me this week, to see how things are going with the wee-weeing, and pooping, she’s going to be happy with me, I don’t think!

However, looking through rose-coloured glasses, and being sanguine, the ablution session went not too bad at all… well, it could have been worse, maybe not one of my best ones, perhaps…

Alright, it was pandemonium Accifauxpa-wise! More dropsies than ever before. (Thank you, Nicodemus!) During the series of droppages, I broke the best razor, a bottle of aftershave slipped, and the spray-top cover burst open (Mind you, I smell nice now, Haha!) and I cannot get the cap off now! Cut my finger retrieving a plastic double-bladed replacement razor. Cracked my head against the sink when I dropped and bent down to get the body spray.

The Silver-Lining Search results: No toe-stubbing, no knocking anything off of anywhere, and only one incident of walking into the door frame, and that was a minor incident. And this cheered me up, the new haemorrhoid cream worked a treat! But then again, there was no bleeding when I used it. So it’ll need testing-out when applied as the blood is flowing. It could have been worse, really methinks!

As I came out of the wet-room, a series on unexpected, involuntary passings of wind shook me a bit, and the tummy began to ache instantly and has stayed that way for hours. I’m going downhill again. Tsk!

I did some more updating, and Duodenal Donald seemed to ease off considerably, but the innards were still aching badly. (Who can’t win? Humph!) I stopped computerisationing again, and put the kettle on, and popped out on the balcony to take a couple of photographicalisations.

The first one, to my right, was of the grave-hill path up into the park, from Chestnut Walk. Many months since I’ve been up[ there, and I remember struggling to get up it as well, Hey-Ho! Then, to my left and a slightly zoomed-in shot of Winchester Street. The building bottom left, shows the top-floor lights on, this is the National Laundry premises. Beneath them, are various rented garages, with a couple of Arthur Daley, “No problem you can have the MOT now…” type characters. Hehehe!

I got a message from Iceland informing me that I should be getting the delivery twixt 08:20 and 09:00hrs. Fair enough! I checked the email they mentioned. They have no frozen baked potatoes, so a refund had been arranged.

Shortly, the Intercom sounded, luckily Herbert was taking a break from his clattering and banging, so I heard it alright. I saw it was the Iceland deliveryman, pressed him in, and got a can of G&T for him. He came up and put the carriers inside the door for me in the hall, that was kind of him.

Slipped him the thank you can of plonk, and took the carrier bags through to the kitchen to sort out. As you can see, there was not a lot of stuff ordered today. Most of it was made up of plank for Christmas pressies, so I do not need to get any later. I’m all ready now, in case I’m kept in when the bowel op is done. See that as well? Forward-planning? Me? Oh, Yes!

This is all I had that was not for Christmas pressies. But I’m going to make up a Morrison order for next week. Here I go…

I got the Morrison order done, got confirmation, then realised I’d made it for this Thursday, not next Thursday. Doah!

But felt suddenly so bad, Duodenal Donald, Dizzy Dennis, and I’m swaying with hardly any control. I left it, got something to eat cooking. I rang Jenny to see if she had any details of the window cleaner arriving. All messy, truth we do not know if he is coming or not.

In the morning, the rest of today’s events are just a blur. No idea what I had to eat, no photo on the card, nothing recalled until I was stripped and in the c1968 recliner, and spent hours trying to get to sleep, it was as if I was drunk or something. It took me hours to nod off, then I sprang awake an hour later, at 23:00hrs, in need of a wee-wee… Tsk! 

Inchcockski – Monday 19th October 2020: Sleep? What’s that then!

TFZer Party, with a special guest!

Monday 19th October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Llun 19eg Hydref 2020

02:40hrs: I stirred back into mu usual confused semi alive state, and was immediately aware that something was wrong, not right or unusual. But what?

The World-Wide Hum was blasting away, as usual, I was still uncertain what it was, for a few moments, and then minutes. Aha! Gorrit! No demands were being made of me, to use the Porcelain Throne, or for a wee-wee! Now I was more puzzled than before I’d worked out what it was that was annoying me. I had a terribly dry and sore throat, tight chest, and breathing was a bit of an effort, with sharp intakes of breath all the time. It sounds like a chill or cold to me.

 The moment I began to encourage my colossal belly with a body attached to it out of the c1968 recliner, a call for a wee-wee was received from the bladder. What a sad picklement I got into.

Getting to Little Inchy in time, was hard work, a button torn off of the jammies, and the PPs were ripped… and what for? The equivalent of a couple of tablespoonsful of the deepest orange wee-wee I’ve ever seen before! Silver-Lining-Search-Result: At least there was no pain with this release or partial release, I should say. Humph!

I took the bucket for sanitising, had a good wash, but didn’t change the torn PPs, cause I’m going to have to change them when I get the ablutions done later. Off to the kitchenette, with a stirring, a scintilla of near excitement, at the thought of using the new tin BP sphygmomanometer instrument for measuring my arterial blood pressure, at least with this being the same operational procedure as the old one, I was pretty confident in using it.

But, I got sidetracked after putting on the kettle and having a look at the morning view. Out of the light & view-blocking, impossible to reach for cleaning, new window, and got the urge to try once again (current record 210 photos, Two decent ones taken), to attempt to get some good pictures!

Well, not as bad as usual, indeed not good though! I nosied down to Chestnut Walk and took a snap in Aperture Priority setting. When I viewed the screen, it did look like a space ship of some sort was landing near the flats (Top left). I was tickled pink with it, and later made a more significant copy, and used it for the second picture down the blog today. I think the dark unidentifiable trees had covered part of some houses, leaving the impression of an alien craft. Or is it just me?

Finally, I got around to doing the BP Checks, then took the medications with a guzzle or two of the bottled spring water. The SYS is even higher today. But, it was lower than the first one I took earlier – it was 171 on that one; but by the time I’d got the camera ready, the machine turned itself off. Which is a good function, saves on battery life. I must remember to get the Nikon or Canon ready beforehand in future.

I then got the new head-thermometer out. I’m not so certain about using this at all. The print on the instructions is ridiculously small. I’ve no idea what needs doing with the SET plus/Minus buttons, but being as it seems to be working, I was a smidge nervous of cocking things up by toying with the settings. Lack of confidence? Me? Yes!

It came out at 34.4°c, and that must be okay, cause the screen was coloured green? I felt a soupçon on satisfaction in getting it right, the first time. But I’d like to have known how I did it. Hehehe!

Made a delightful brew of Glengettie tea, and I gulped down a few mouthfuls of the inadequate, wishy-washy, ineffective Peptac crap antacid medicine that the Doctor thinks, and told me years ago, ‘It’ll work a treat for your duodenal ulcer!’ I’m still waiting for it to do anything, something, to ease the pain! Tsk!

As I was settling at the computer, I realised there was no tingling coming from the ankle ulcer, so I investigated, with the Nikon!

Frottleclamorious! It is looking like it’s definitely on the wain. Never looked so uninflamed ever! But, will it come back again? Offering me more pain! Driving me insane? Will I be back on the vervain? She may never come back to drive me insane! Or are my hopes all in vain? I got carried away there with the rhyming, sorry.

I remembered the Morrison order is coming twixt 06:00>07:00hrs, so pressed on getting the updating of the Sunday blog done, but no time to double-check it, post it or anything. The ablutions, a stand-up job with it being so early, had to be done, so I turned everything off to give the computer a little time to cool down, and off to the wet room, I trudged.

A second wee-wee was needed as I got in the room, another waste-of-time-trickle-only affair, but this time a smidgeon of pain with it, not that it lasted long.

Things went unbelievably smoothly, Toothache Thomas okay, no cuts shaving, oh yes there was, I nicked my right ear-hole. All was going so well; until the ablutions and medicationalisationing were complete, and it came to replacing the PPs and getting dressed… Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched without any hints or warnings, into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I crumbled to the floor, via the sock-glide on the chair! I believe I may have muttered something along the lines of; ‘Well fancy that!’ And struggling to get back up, as I hit my right elbow on the edge of the floor cabinet, ‘Blow me down!’

I returned to post off the Sunday post. Spent hours sorting out the graphics, literally, I got in a right mess as the internet kept going slower and slower.

The Morrison delivery arrived, and I slipped the chap a can of G&T for his bother and in thanks.

I’d got the last of the Christmas giveaway plonk in, and some batteries. The regular stuff, such as washing up liquid, bleach, bleach, Surf, instant potatoes, toilet cleaner, Irish potato farls, tomatoes, a bag of potatoes, bread thins, lemon mousse, mini raspberry and vanilla rolls, haemorrhoid cream, and even a packet of wooden skewers. Iceland no longer stock them, Tsk!

Got the goods stored away, and decided that today’s meal would be Chilli-Con-Carni. (hope this doesn’t make the poo too soft and runny!)

I got the fodder into the saucepan, with a tin of Heinz sweet curried baked beans, and a selection of Jenny-supplied yellow and red tomatoes chopped into the mix. And some Squid vinegar, and left to marinate before heating up later on.

Four potatoes will be added later from the crock-pot, being done a low-setting.

I’ll do some Irish potato farls in the oven later on, and have them as a substitute for having bread. Stomach too large and flabby!

It was an odd feeling, not having to wee-wee so often all day.

I did some graphicalising on CorelDraw, which took an aeon to get sorted and finished.

Then closed down Computer Katie, and got on with making up the recycling and rubbish bags. And stacked them on the three-wheeler-walker. Put the glass recycling bag on the trolley handles. I put the small waste bags in the delivery box, with the recycling one on top. Quite an industrial mode was adopted? Haha!

I put the little Canon camera, and keys & door fob to get back in the flats, in my pocket. Got my mask on, too. (See? I don’t always forget to take them!)

To the waste-room and downed the small bags in the chute, without any injuries or hassle at all! Smug-Mode-Temporarily-Assumed!

Caught the lift down to the ground floor, and out into the sunshine on Chestnut Walk. Put the glass in the bin, left the bag of recycling materials by the big bin, it was full. Sherlock Holmesian Mode Engaged; The workmen had I imagine, been using it, judging by the concrete and sandbags in there. At least they looked like them to me.

A steady wobble along the road to Winwood Court and the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation Office. Had a natter and a laugh with Riechsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana.

As I departed and was hobbling back to Woodthorpe Court, I espied Penny and Christine ahead on me, just off of the bus. They were having a chinwag on the pavement. Aha, a chance for another beloved nattering session, perhaps!

I waved and moved towards them, but they scarpered rather swiftly away from me. No way could I catch them up, although I tried, but, I soon started struggling for breath, and gave-up. Then, of course, I realised, I’d got the black mask on, that may have put them off. Hahaha!

All clear of life and residents when I got in the lobby, I took this photo as I got into the lift. The box on top of the trolley is the PP carton I use to transport things down to the chute or bins. Also, now that Sainsbury’s have stopped using carrier bags for their deliveries, I use it to put the groceries in.

I got in the flat, taking a wee-wee, and Josie rangeth the doorbell’s Dusty Springfield tune, ♫ I only want to be with you! ♫ . She was returning the Sunday lunch things for me. Josie gave me another packet of cheese-curls. Thanked her, and returned to finish off my wee-wee. Not that it was worth doing, a sprinkle, cough, and it was all finished. And deep orange again, Tsk!

As I started to prepare the meal, I had some NHS stuff posted through the door. Advice on how to poo! On hoe to wee! And directions for what not to eat and drink Which included the demand for me not to drink ordinary tea, only decaffeinated! Well, now I need a stool, to use, to pass my stools! Har-har-har!

By the time I’d read half of it, my head was spinning!

I took the evening medications, remembering the Dioctyl®, and the last of the Macrobid antibiotic capsules, (Also known as, brand names Nitrofurantoin, Aratoin, Macrodantin and Furadantin – nowt like getting confused is there). After ten days of taking this, my urine is still clour matched as No.6 – Very Dehydrated? That did a lot of good!

Mind you, Dioctyl® (Docusate Sodium) poo-softener isn’t exactly doing much good either! Admitted, it’s a smidge easier than it was to pass, though. But still so painful and as much bleeding as before going on them. I’m not the luckiest of people! Haha!

Finally, I got the fodder served up. Tim Price thinks this Chilli-Con-Carne will do me better, passing-wise. Hahaha! Some part-baked rolls found and still in date, were added. And it was so tasty. The Flavour-Rating given was 805/10! I nearly ate all of the stuff on the stray! Yummy in the extreme!

I took the tray with the well-scrapped dish and got them soaking in the sink.

I had a wash, a few gulps of the defeasible, ineffective, impotent, anandrious Peptac antacid medicine, as Duodenal Donald was kicking off again, and treated Harold’s Haemorrhoids to a treat of Germoloids, before settling down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, haemorrhoid-attacking, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, in search of some sleep. 

No chance of my nodding off, Duodenal Donald made sure of that! So, I got a New Tricks DVD to watch. And was soon off in the land of nod… Bliss!

The door chimes burst forth! Just what I wanted this was! I fumbled my way free of the recliner. Getting some clothes and slippers on…

I stubbed my right foot big toe! Grobbleknackerbangles! Then walked into the doorframe going out of the room to the hallway. (I was getting angrier and more uptight as the seconds passed!)

No one was there! Spurgledamnations!

  • Either they had lost patience waiting for me to get to the door?
  • Or it was one of the famous Woodthorpe Court aliens: ghosts, wraiths, spirits, spectres, apparitions, phantasms, eidola, or poltergeist?
  • Or, in my slumber, I’d imagined, or dreamed of the door-buzzers going off?

Even less chance than ever of getting back to sleep now, Donald was still stinging and stabbing at me. Hogglebogwash!

I went to get a drink of warm milk, thinking it might help me find Sweet Morpheus. But no! I hadn’t got any. I’d plenty of individual serving sachets of milk, mind. So, I opted to make a mug of Gelngettie Gold tea instead, with an extra sachet of milk in it.

I had a look at the big toe to see if it had bruised or gone black, but it was fine, stinging only the slightest bit.

The best thing I spotted was that the leg-ulcer was fading fast! Yahoo!

Inchcock Today – Sunday 18th October 2020: Ogglebloc klump, eeruk!

You can’t keep a TFZeress Down! ♥

Sunday 18th October 2020

Afrikaans: Sondag 18 Oktober 2020

03:00hrs: I wrestled my body free of the recliner, and used the now relocated nearer to the recliner, EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and proceeded to sprinkle/spray weakly just about, around 3-fluid-ounces of waste-water into the bucket. Painfully, and it took me a few minutes to get rid of so little! No MAD (Micturition After-Dribble). Unfortunately, it was deep orange again! Cleaned and sanitised the bucket.

So, off to the kitchenette, I stumbled. Neither the BP sphygmomanometer nor the thermometers were working, (But I am hoping to have one of each delivered later today, from Amazon – hopefully not too late that I miss out on getting any Sweet Morpheus again!).

As I started taking medications, doubts came into my mind, I’d just taken four of the tablets, and there were still seven in the pot? I do not usually have eleven tablets of a morning, indeed? Confusionableitis reigned. Ah, of course, I’d put the Dioctyl® and MacroBid® in the pot with the others. Sorted!

I needed a second wee-wee, put the kettle on and meandered wobblingly to the wet room. By gum, what a difference this one was! Back to an OSVTP (Orange-Storming-Vicious-Torrential-Powerful) mode! Caught me out that did! 

Washed and medicated (Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding a bit), and to the computer, thanks to the incapable, overpaid, money-grabbing, predatory, rapacious, moralless, quomodocunquising Mr Fries’., pathetic Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media service being so bad, it took me three or four times as long as it should have to get the updating of the Saturday blog finished and posted! Oy-yoy-yoy!

I got the blog sent off, Pinterested a couple of photos, and spent some time on Facebooking catch-up. Went on the WordPress Reader section, some decent blogs on there today. I enjoyed answering some comments, although had to bother getting the replies to show up as taken, later finding out I’d responded to the same thing three or four times? Not sure if it was WordPress or the Internet that caused this. They both have a record of unreliability.

It seems like I’m having a lot of Whoopsiedangleplops this morning, things not going right etc., Grobbleknangles!

As I started to do this post

Summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. As I made my way to the wet room, I felt twitching coming from Neuropathic Pete’s right leg, which bodes that the ubiquitous was preparing to launch another of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routines. I hope it comes before I get in the shower, it’s always more dangerous when it happens there, ending up with more severe injuries. Fingers crossed!

Got down in the Throne, noticed some blood in the PP’s as I whipped them down, that’ll need investigating after the session. I feard a return to the Constipation Konrad mode, as things did not start, and pushing things along was too painful.

I got the crossword book out, did a fair job too, filled several answers in… well, alright, two! Things restarted, totally under the control of the innards, and swiftly evacuated, it felt to me as if a massive amount had been released. Still, when I rose, everything had disappeared without my flushing yet? The blood on the TP reminded me to have a check around, once flush and the water was cleared of everything. Confusionableitis was back!

Oh, Gragglespitgurgle! I was losing haemoglobin from front and rear! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had lost a fair bit, and the rear-end was still leaking blood! A rather delicate piece of cleaning up and medicationalisationing had to be done, now. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, if indeed it was from him, were extremely painful and tender. Good job I’ve ordered some over-the-counter Hydrocortisone cream to be delivered on Monday. And the Germoloids cream last week, cause I used a lot of them today, and after the ablutions, will need to do so again. Old age and senility, bring along challenges, pain, despair and embarrassments; so be prepared you young un’s out there. You’ve got to grit yer teeth! (Well, what few you’ve got left) Hehehe!

Al cleaned up and sorted, and I went to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Then made a start on this post, just as SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) started to kick off. (Elongated, Loud Sigh!) Luckily SSS didn’t stay with me for long, this time.

After a couple of hours, I stopped and put the computer into sleep mode, and went off to get the ablutions tended to. Hoping that SSS stay calmed down, and the Dancing leg will wait until after the showering and dressing, before attacking me again. What are the odds of that? Off to gather the needs and to the wet-room. I go a message on the mobile as I departed, left it until after the showering.

Ablutionalisationing Session Report

Under the circumstances, these being, that I have not shaved for a day and a half, so anticipated possible problems there, cut-wise, and Neuropathy Pete’s Warning of a possible right-leg, free-fall dance routine being imminent, things went reasonably well! The legs looked much betterer, too!

Shaving, there were a few nicks of course, but only a couple or so, no bad ones. A visit from Dizzy Dennis in the shower, again, not a bad one, and very short too. Just the one clout against the grab bar, when I was retrieving the shower-gel bottle, I’d dropped. An overall estimated total of dropsies is only about eight, that’s fabtabulous!


Got dressed and back to the kitchen, where I did the hand-washing. A zip-up jacket and pyjama bottoms were done, rung and hung to dry. They should be +done by about the end of November.

All hell let loose! I checked the message on my £240,000Black Diamond VIPN Smartphone… well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, a smidge of hyperbole crept in there. Hehehe!

The message was from Amazon, telling me the delivery of either the sphygmomanometer or thermometer or both, will arriving today, twixt 11:25 and 12:25hrs. Which is going to cock-up my plans for making Josie’s dinner!

I tried to get her, but realised it was not going to be easy, cause it was 09:00hrs, like SisterJane, Josie is a slugabed. In between making the bin-bags up and taken to the waste room chute, and prepping Josie’s fodder, I tried several times to get hold of Josie. 09:20hrs, 09:30hrs, and at 09:55hrs, she answered the door. I felt terrible waking her up. But needed to know if it was okay with her if I served her nosh earlier this week. I explained about the sphygmomanometer and maybe thermometer was being delivered twixt 1135>12:55hrs. And I needed to be down in the lobby then, to collect it or them. She confirmed this by reading the text on the mobile phone, informing me of the same.

No problem with that, the lady announced! Told me I didn’t look very well, and wished me the best, as she closed the door, bless her.

I got back in the apartment and took the second Dioctyl®, of the day, and got the crossword book in the three-wheeler, a pencil in my pocket, and hastened down of the lobby to await the arrival of the whatever it is coming from Amazon, via DHL, or is that DCL? I settled in the chair nearest the door so that I could keep an eye out for the van.

  • I got out the crossword book. But soon realised I had not taken the reading glasses with me. And soon put the crossword book back in the trolley bag.
  • The light in the lobby kept going out, frequently with the odd spell of flickering thrown in. So I wouldn’t have been able to to the crosswords even if I’d taken the reading spectacles with me!
  • Then I noted that I had not taken the lock-fob with me either!
  • I got up to stretch the pins, and clouted my ankle against the table!

I am not going so well again today.

I met Penny coming in. She was in a rush I could tell, but kind enough to have mini-natter with me.

An hour later, I spotted a white van going by, and it returned but went by the flats. At first, a mild-panic set it. “Is he delivering to the wrong block?”

Nope, all okay, he returned to Woodthorpe and handed me the box. It wasn’t immense or massive. I assumed that the contents would only be either the BP machine or the head-thermometer. I thanked the chap. Back up to the apartment to investigate. Got the trolley in the corner, and then realised I had not called Sister Jane back yet. So I did.

We had the odd laugh and natter, although the connection was a bit tinny and vague at times, I had to guess at what Jane was saying. I enjoyed it all the same.

Then, I set about checking out the new sphygmomanometer, that’s all that was in the box, a lot of packing paper though.

Many years ago, when I bought my first machine from Boots, it cost me £35, but it lasted well. Also, I can recall the first time that I used it an error message came up.

Well, it did with this new this one, too! Hahaha! It took about three times as long as the old one to come up with the results. Not complaining mind you, this metal (or tin) cased one, only cost me £19! My EQ told me not to get too hopeful with this one? 

I got on with searching the ‘YourArea’ email, for owt of interest. (Anything to stay awake, and not miss the thermometer coming)

I found two photographs that will be of interest to locals, maybe others.

 

 

 

 

And the latest Coronavirus figures.

Which seem to be getting slightly betterer this fine, more hopeful day?

I went on CorelDraw, to try and get some TFZer graphics done. I decided to fetch a bottle of my spring water first, to help with the wee-weeing, that has come to a stop! Guess who dropped the bottle and felt a right Schemiel in the process? Clapbogsworthyness! 

Aha! The second  Amazon man arriveth at the door, with the contactless Thermometer. I slipped the young man a can of plonk by way of thanks. Cause he looked so tensed up and unhappy. But it brought a smile to his face;  that was worth a lot to me.

I opened the box and proceeded to get thoroughly confused, trying to read the instructions. The print was so small; even the spy-glass didn’t help. When I tried it, of all things, it brought on the haziness and double vision from Saccades Sandra! Humph!  I put the two AAA batteries in and blindly farted-around in hope, more than expectancy, but got a reading. I can’t find out how close to hold the machine to the forehead, but some kind soul might be able to read the instruction for me tomorrow.

I managed to get it to record the forehead temperature, which was as the old thermometers read, only a tiny bit higher at 34.4°c. I’ve no idea how I got it to work. But there’ll be time later, to get more confused and baffled in the morning’s efforts at it.

I put the things away and turned my attention’s to making some nosh. I made too much again, by a long shot, and ate perhaps a third of it, which was more than enough for me tonight. Then Jenny-supplied yellow tomatoes and the shallots were all eaten up, but little else. Serves me right for making too much again. Hehe!.

Sweet Morpheous resisted me once again, and I turned on the TV, I thought it might bore me to sleep, but it only brought on the confusing and embarrassing Thought-Storms.

Gragnangles!

Inchcock – Saturday 17th October 2020: Unsettling, fraught, bewildering day, mind you, they all seem like this nowadays!

TFZer, Wowser!

Saturday 17th October 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Október 17, Szombat

01:35hrs: I was oh, so reluctant and against rising out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, unstable, pukingly-beige-coloured, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. A stubborn dysania had me in its grip! A depressionalisticness hovered over me, and I couldn’t work out why? My EQ was telling me ‘You’ll just have to cope with it this morning, mate!’ My Thought-Storms were like bricolage, unstable, uncontrollable, not practical, bizarre!

  • As I was on the verge of accepting this insanity, the water-works began a little PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), which the PP’s contained efficiently.
  • I was forced to alter my priorities, and hasten out of the chair, catch my balance, failed at this, and plopped back down in the recliner. Doing Harold’s Haemorrhoids no good at all!
  • This caused a little extra escapage from Little Inchy!
  • I determinedly rose again, and caught my balance, this time, grabbed Metal Micky, and stepped to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Where the wee-wee, weakly sprayed all over the place, and it was the least I’d ever passed in my life, before it closed shut sharply, no after dribble? I’ve put more milk in a mug of teas, than what came out of my bladder! Must be the MacroBid® medication?

Off to the wet room to clean and freshen up, sanitised and disinfected the bucket, changed the PPs, sparingly used the Germoloid, and off to the kitchenette. The brain remained in a fog of sorts.

Another by-pass and change of plans, I had to go back to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne.

Aha! I think things in the Poo-Softening arena, are beginning to work at last! The Smug-Mode-Adoption was resisted – things go wrong too often for me lately!

The entire movement was quicker and smoother than in a long time. There was a bit of bleeding, but that I think, was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so is to be expected. The cistern had to be refilled from the sink and used twice to get the evacuated product to disappear from view.

I got the inspiration from somewhere, to make a strong-minded effort to try and get some photographs of the morning view, that would be better than my recent efforts and tries!

I used the Kodak, and toyed around with different option, hoping for at least some degree of improvement.

Another failure! Gangleboggleisations!

I was most disappointed with the pictures that I’d taken. These three on the right, believe it or not, were the best of them! And why did the last one come out in a different shape? They were so poor. I’d lost my interest altogether now! Humph!

I got the BP sphygmomanometer from the drawer, only to find that the last reading showed up when I turned it on? With nit much to fiddle with, I determined that it was either knackered, or needed new batteries, so I replaced the old ones with Duracell newbies. I tried to use it again, the same thing, just the old figures appeared, no blank start-up screen. I wanted to cry, but didn’t bother! I’ll see what Amazon have on offer later. A bit annoying, cause now I cannot keep my recording record up to date for the nurse to collect each month.

Ah-well, I’ll get the Thermometer going. But No! That was not working either! I thought it would be fun to create the little expression that I sometimes use, in fact, it was Tim Price from New Mexico who gave me the idea: The mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’. But this morning, I’m beginning to believe it could be true! 

I toyed with the ear-thermometer, but it didn’t have it. So, I got the stick-thermometer out and used that.  It worked, and I took this photograph of the result.

Then, as I was about to put it back in medical drawer number three, where it is usually stored: Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary, instant, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I found myself doing some ballerina type dancing, as I fought not to go over, and lunged at the stove to steady my balance. At that second, I felt almost proud of myself for going over. The head swanked a bit sideways, and I think a smirk came across my face, as I realised this was only a short leg-dance, of a few seconds duration, and I had prevailed!

As soon as I’d caught my balance and turned back towards the stack of drawers… I felt it as I trod on the stick thermometer! Still not fully back to normal, I got the short picker-upperer to retrieve the obviously now bent, thermometer. I tried to straighten it up to try it out, to see if it was still working. Dead, deceased – not a cat-in-hells chance! Now I was on a downer of great proportions!

To add to this sudden nasty depression, I’ve got to get a new sphygmomanometer and thermometer! Frangleklops, Thunderglobberisations and Knackercraps! I was feeling morose, splenetic and crotchety! Worse than this, my EQ informed me that I had more let-down coming! I found I was monologuing with myself, Duodenal Donald started having a go at me, and hearing aid fell out?

But cunningly, it did not break, and it’s part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, and scare the hell out of Inchcock, thus assuring him a life of misery, worry and fear!’

Of course, it could be the Lord, making my life this unbearable unlucky hell, so that when the time comes for me to kick-the-bucket, I won’t mind so much? The day must be close then. That’s kind of him.

I took the much-belated medications and got on the computer to see what Amazon has on offer thermometers and hemadynamometers-wise at a bearable price.  First thing I found was an email, telling that the order, which was to have been arriving Wednesday, then Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday, is going to be late. Hahahaha!

I found some fancy medical gear and ordered it.

Of course, the ‘Arriving Tomorrow’ can be taken with a-pinch-of-salt.

I had a ‘Your Area’ email, with the latest Coronavirus locally.

I got the Friday post finished off and posted to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps. Replied to some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. And as I went on CorelDraw, three things dawned on me: 1) I had not been for a wee-wee for hours! 2) Herbert was not making much noise, and 3) I’d had much hassle, I’d not got the ablutions done yet! And it was gone midday!

I hobbled off to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I tried the Kodak for the last time, to take a photo of the clouds on view. It came to pout all wrong again, compared to how it looked to the eyes, but then again, it could be the eyes, not the lens at fault?

I tried the BP sphygmomanometer again, not that I expected anything to work – and sod-me, it did! And I’ve just ordered a new one! But, knowing my luck, I shall still get the Amazon one, you never know what the aliens and ghosts are up to and planning in these flats!

Made the brew, and did a template for tomorrow in advance. And about twelve emails all came in at once! One was about the late, late order from Amazon. So, five days late, a proper date received… We’ll see!

I’ll check it out now. Whoops, this is not the original order I thought, but the thermometer order. Int life, confusing?

Shattered mentally now, I’ll get the nosh sorted. I think I’d spent the last of my mental energy preparing this dish. My taste-buds seem to have dwindled, but it still got a Taste-Rating of 7/10.

I got the things from the meal to soak in the kitchen bowl. And went in search of sleep.

Two hours later; mostly of suffering irreverent Thought-Storms, I still awaited Sweet Morpheous.

What a day!

Inchcock Today – Friday 16th October 2020: The body and mind seemed to crepitate. Thunderisations!

SPECIAL GUEST – TFZers ♥

Friday 16th October 2020

Croatian: Petak, 16 Listopada 2020

04:30hrs: Getting my head down so late last night, caused a bit of good fortune – I slept, uninterrupted, dream-free (I think), for over five hours! Yee-Ha!

Of course, this meant instant panic and worry about my getting everything done today, with such a late start! A bi gezunt! No time to lay there, or uhtceare. Anyway, the need for a wee-wee encouraged me to free my body-mass from the c1968 recliner, and get my balance, and scuddle to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). I honestly think I only moved a few fluid ounces, and half of them sprayed all over me! Grumbleskins!

I got the bucket, and myself cleaned up and visited the kitchenette, to get a mug of Thompsons Punjana, take the medications and do the Health Checks, oh, and take some photos from the window, not necessarily in that order.

I collected the MacroBid and Dioctyl from the computer desk. I tried the new ear-thermometer this morning, pleased to see that it worked the first time and came up with a figure. 34.6°Cc. Which marries with the level shown on the stick thermometer. I’ll see on Google and convert it to Fahrenheit. It gave me 94.28°F, which is a fair-figure, methinks?

The BP sphygmomanometer results were also pleasing, SYS and DIA both down, as well as the Pulse, I’ll do a check on Google again… “normal rate 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm), so, another good one. I wonder if this will last? Hahaha! I had a swig of the pathetically weak Pentac medicine, followed my gulps of the splendid tea, and Took the photographs, both in the Aperture Priority mode, with the Nikon camera.

These could be used if anyone was making a film-noir movie or commercial? Just a thought, here’s another, do you think that the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying them?

If they can “spent taxpayers’ money” for a load of bricks, in fact ‘they’ paid so-called artist Carl Andre, £2,297 for the pile of bricks, in 1976. Bear in mind that £2,300 in 1976 is worth £16,664.29 today. I’m imperseverant when it comes to an understanding such stupidity from the Tate, in accepting crap from someone so desperate for success, a Fame-Whore like Carl? They could have had both of my photos for a tenner!

But, of course, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Oy-oy, oy!

A most-urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived!  I scuddled off to the wet room, arriving with seconds to spare. But the usual start then stopping occurred, and I reached for the crossword book.

But no time for puzzling, for the motion restarted much quick than of late, although still painful, it as over in seconds, leaving me with a mess to clean up. I had to use two flushes, refilling the tank by water, jugged from the sink, in between, then get myself sorted, cleaned and medicated. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids had gone through a rough time. Not much bleeding, though.

I reckon that the Dioctyl capsules are getting a grip on the situation at last. Says he, in hopes! However, the MacroBid UTI infection antibiotics, are taking their time in changing the colour of the urine, I checked with the card, and the colour is now between 6 + 7 on the scale, which is classed as Very and Severely dehydrated. No improvement at all, in fact, it is darker orange than before I went on the medication last Thursday? I increased my intake of spring water, as they recommended.

As I got on the computer, dear old Herbert started working on his models. Clunk, tap-tapping. But not for long.

I made a start on creating a template, then started to update the Thursday blog. I was in a zwodder, mentally, and jumping all over doing things out of order, and getting myself all irritated in doing so, but somehow kept on meandering and forgetting where I was and what I was doing and supposed to be doing. Jenny would know a name for this; she’s a clever gal. Next time we chat, I’ll ask her, then I can use the word to show off. Hehehe! Cheerio, sanity! Then…

Things seem to get worse when I went to get the ablutions done;

  • I suffered more dropsies than ever before!
  • Had a cracking cross between the Twist and a Waltz when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I ended up going over onto the floor!
  • Banged my right elbow on the corner of the floor cabinet, and knocked a few things off of it.
  • I couldn’t find the shaving foam, and I’m sure I had some, and another full one ready? No shave today, then!
  • I considered putting some socks on, as it was getting reet cold. But stood there looking at the scary, scowling Sock-Glide, and a moment of resistentialism came over me?
  • It seemed that Pareidolia had gripped me, as I started talking to the damned thing! But I chickened out of using it, not that I was scared or anything like that, of course. Cough, cough!
  • Getting some new PPs on, and they ripped as I pulled them up? Oh, heck!

I remembered a little late that it was time for the next Dioctyl capsule to be taken. Forced plenty of water down with it.

I got back on Computer Cameron, and carried on with the blog updating, but not for long! Good old Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet went off again. It’d been dead slow all day!

I think Herbert must have gone out. It’s tranquil around the place. Even the ‘Hum ‘ is not as bad as usual, mind you, I can hear the drone from the plant room on the roof.

It’s already gone my head-down time already. Still, I will give in to my tiredness and get something to eat. Then I’ll collapse in the recliner. The internet is so bad and slow now it’s back on, but I’ll have a look at the Coronavirus figures first, internet permitting. Well, it wasn’t!

I got the nosh made. Fell asleep eating it. I cleaned up the mess from the tray falling off of my knees. Had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, it was more like a quick spray of air freshener without the nice scent.

Settled in the recliner, and waited for sleep to come… and waited… and waited…