Inchcock – Mon 14 Jan 2019: Song arrived from New Mexico about my marathon hobbles! Oh, Yes!

Monday 14th January 2019

Japanese: 2019年1月14日月曜日

23:45hrs. I stirred into imitation life and realised that for two hours or so. I’d have a dream, wake up and think about it, (even scribbled some notes about the odd one on the notepad), nodding off again, another dream, more pondering over it… repeatedly! I can only get details from these scrawled notes, there were three pages of writing, but much of it ineligible. The detailed memories of the phantasms are vague or non-existent.

Dreams from the notepad:

1. Being chased in an abandoned building – many floors – ogres – women.
2. Boat on a canal – frothy brown water – drowning – underground cave.
3. In a  trench – fingers kept falling off, put them back on – Gunfire?
4. Unreable scrawl on notepad!
5. Past mistakes and bad choices – tormenting – embarrassing – Cadets & TA.
6. Heaven – arguing – Stalin – ambulance – ejected back to earth – blood.
7. Young again – romantic moments – flowers – my motorbike – boxing – squash – badminton – bungee jumping – Suzie – school – cane and strap – Christine – the Meadows – Dad – Guilt.

Ah-well!

I became aware of the need for me to take a wee-wee. But it was nothing like the last few days. Not such urgency, pain, power or panic about the activity. I was back to the standard SSWW (Short-Sharp-Wee-wee) for the moment at least. Yet, when I rose and tried to put on the slippers, the legs still held plenty of fluid, and any leg lifting was painful. The need to us the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time. The wee-wee was so short, it surprised me. (They remained like this, and oh, so frequent, they stopped me from daring to go out on a long hobble, Grumph!)

The legs were stiffened and a little harder to use? The fluid content, as you can see, unevenly distributed. Why this was so, I didn’t know. But, there you go! Hohoho!

I did note that the hairs had gone from the lower legs now, just like they did when I first started retaking the Furosemides. Like the ones on the stomach that disappeared last week. The pot-marks, papsules, swelling and depressions, blemishes, vein-graphics, lumps, ridges, bruises, the boil,  Stasis ulcer, and the ‘Arthur Itis lives here’ eruptions on the knees, were all indicative of getting old, I suppose. Hey-ho!

Also, there was just the one EIBWBBBs (Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle) found in the wet room. Have the cunning little beasts got reinforcements who are doing a recce of the flat? Why are they still alive in this cold weather? Are there thousands of eggs in their hidey-holes in the window plastering and shower drain? Ready to give life to more of them, another invading army? My brain seemed to be imperseverant to the problem. Although, this morning the mind seemed like a composite of yonderly, acceptance and cerebricity, with a touch of lackadaisicalness lurking in the grey-cells.

Another SSWW, and off to the kitchen to do the Health Checks. I took this picture from the unwanted light and view-blocking new window, using the old Sony camera.

Not bad I thought. I’d forgot just how slow the old gal is.

I got all the equipment gathered to do the Health Checks.

The sphygmomanometer worked the first time. The new thermometer also operated immediately.

It all went smoothly and without any hassle.

Apart from my discovering I had missed last nights medications by falling and staying asleep for so long. Tsk! Made a brew and took the medicines for this morning, along with the Warfarin and Simvastatin from last nights quota. I did not repeat any of the medications of course. Had an SSWW. Then on the computer, to get the record updated for last week and this check.

Duodenal Donald came on while I was doing this. My EQ told me things might, no, would, get worse with Donald later. I knew this when the pain became like a droning one straight away. This usually indicates he is settling in to give me some nasty grief. I took a good swig or two of the antacid medication the doctor gave me. Although I knew the results would be derisory, impotent and ineffective, the hopes of getting just some relief, prompted me.

It dawned on me, how long I had spent in the £300 second-hand recliner last night. Eight or nine hours methinks, a long time for me. Mind you, most of the time I was dreaming, waking, thinking… dreaming waking, thinking… Tsk!

Before updating the Sunday post, I made an early start on this blog, to get down the memories such as they are, of the dreams recorded.

Then on to doing the Sunday’s updating. During which I found a fantastically humorous and clever song from my mate Tim Price, who lives in New Mexico. Cunningly written and sung to cover my marathon hobbles. He’s titled it “Inchcock’s Wanderings While Wandering,” the words are here too! Nothing short of Brilliant! Here it is:

 

https://gerrynottingham.blog/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/inchcockwonderings3.mp3?_=1

Inchcock’s Wonderings While Wandering

Key of C

Each morning there’s light out there,
Someone is in despair?
Someone washing his own hair?
Alcoholics here and there?

Up there, a plane in the air?
A shoplifter in his lair?
Perhaps a millionaire’s heir?
Old chap sleeps in recliner chair?

There’s a vicar with a prayer?
Someone eats a cream eclair?
Old folks playing solitaire?
Hearing burglars downstairs?

Inchock’s wonderings while he’s wandering through the many streets of Nottingham.
Streetlights shining on the sidings what do all those house lights have to hide?

Someone’s even happy somewhere?
With Cocaine a necessaire?
Street-sleeper, future billionaire?
Admits to voting for Tony Blair?

A Christian reciting the Lord’s Prayer?
Looking for a policeman full of despair?
Some of them might be out there
Taking in the night air

Someone with a cupboard bare?
Stealing cars, phones, a Frigidaire?
Some in places don’t want to be there?
Loyal abstainers or having an affair?

Someone battling nasty spyware?
Someone short on his bus fare?
A cross-dresser in his lady’s wear?
Singing Be my Teddybear??

A mugger waiting in a thoroughfare?
Terrorists planning guerrilla warfare?
Someone trimming armpit hair?
Politician changing his nom de guerre?

So many bodies, minds in disrepair?
Voters for Brexit, they all swear!
Nothing in Brexit’s fair-and-square!
Have we all gone as mad as a March hare?

Someone battling nasty spyware?
Someone short on his bus fare?
A cross-dresser in his lady’s wear?
Singing ♫Be my Teddybear♫?

A mugger waiting thoroughfare?
Terrorists planning guerrilla warfare?
Someone trimming armpit hair?
Politician changing his nom de guerre?

So many bodies, minds in disrepair?
Voters for Brexit, they all swear!
Nothing in Brexit’s fair-and-square!
Have we all gone as mad as a March hare?

Inchock’s wonderings while he’s wandering through the many streets of Nottingham.

I’m tickled pink with it! Cheers, Tim.

I went on to Facebooking on the albums and TFZer site.

Then onto the WordPress reader pages.

I’ll risk a walk into Sherwood, I think. To get bread and some Highland Shorties. Better get the ablutions done.

Got the cleansing done, and enjoyed the shower, even though an Evil Ironclad Boll-Weevil black biting beetle crawled up my foot. The water and soap didn’t seem to phase him at all? Huh!

I got three black bags made up and down the rubbish chute, then took a big bag of recyclables down with me.

Smashing nattering session and laugh with Olive and Lynne when I got down to the lobby. Handed the caretaker, who was surprisingly his mobile phone, the bag for recycling. (Sarcasm-Mode-Engaged) Hehe!

There were no signs of any Willmott Dixon lads working as I walked along Chestnut Walk and called in the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress Warden’s Temporary HQ. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationistical Meeting Shed. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Where things like crockery and pottery get stolen from, Rumourmongering Clinic, and somewhere to est while waiting for the bus, Portakabin.

Had a quick chat with Obersturmführeress and Catwalk Model Deana. Ah, I remembered, I am barred by the Nottingham City Homes Management, from mentioning anything taking place between Nottingham City Homes agents, representatives or employees and myself. And with Mary, who was sat looking a little dejected, bless her, as she waited for the bus to arrive.

As I plodded down Winchester Street Hill, I espied some chappies in high-vis jackets using Road-distance measuring wheels. I wonder what is going to take place, They had some warning signs in on display, and a hole or two with barriers around them.

I got the bottom and turned left up Hood Street and right down Marshall Street onto Mansfield Road.

I came across a classic display of Nottinghamian Street Art. Now this, ought to be in the Tate Gallery!

A blend of a well used charcoal BBQ, electrical light casings and a mystery timer or heater. I bet Thomas on the TFZ site will know what it is or was. I’ll post this picture later on to the Facebook site.

I plodded forward to the end and turned right and called at the International Food Centre. I wasn’t pleased to see that the Council had supplied places for the Pavement Cyclist to lock the bikes against outside the shop. Humph! You remember this shop, the one that tries to over-charge, or short change me so often; I’ve come to expect and accept it! I came out with a large jar of pickled mushrooms, a ridiculously priced small continental loaf (£1.49), and a tin of garden peas. I annoyed the lady by giving her the right money, thus avoiding her short-changing me. Smug-Mode Engaged!

As I came out of the shop, a Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclist, veered across the Pelican Lights. But I missed the git with the camera; I was too late. Klutz!

But I did catch three shops in a row, every one of them now closed down. I zoomed in and took another shot of them.

So sad, to see so many of these businesses going bankrupt.

I think the Cafe was open last week. All their hopes and dreams shattered!

I turned in the other direction and crossed over the road and up the hilly Mansfield Road up to the, what I call; ‘The Shop with No Name!’

When the Post office closed down and moved into operating at the back of his store, Abdul just left the new Post Office Signs up, and he took his own down.

I bought the Highland Shorties, a can of spray cream. Some balsamic vinegar crisps and something I didn’t realise he sold – Polish Continental Bread. A large sliced loaf, for less than I had just paid for a small one! Of course, will mean a struggle to get in into the overfull freezer when I get back. Humph!

I crossed over the lights to the other side of the road and called into the Wilko shop. 

I came out having purchased some Fragrance Boost for the laundry and bins and a nasal decongestant spray. I noticed two different packaging on the freshener. A close look revealed that the older design of the made in Spain ones, had been replaced with a newer one, that is made in China now. Paid the lady the £5.59 owed for the goods, and exited the shop.

I began to make my way up the hill to the bus stop. There are a Mind and an Oxfam charity shop immediately next to the Wilko, and I thought, being as I a had plenty of time before the bus is due, I’d call in to see if either of them had a Negotiator or John-Q DVD. I call in these regularly, but as yet without any luck. Hello… the Oxfam shop had a copy on sale! So I bought it. At last! Haha!

As I left the store, no less than three of the Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists belted by me at speed down the hill!

I was so annoyed at them, I shouted out, but they were so going so quickly, I don’t think they heard me. In the photo, they almost out of site. Still, live and let live eh? Even to the contemptuous, sanctimonious, bullying, arrogant, rampallian, intimidating, dangerous, intransigent, vicious, belligerent, abrasive, disrespectful, self-centred, antagonistic, terrifying to the elderly, hard of hearing, blind, pensioners and thoughtless law-breaking Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists!

Made my way up to the bus stop. Where a few things of interest took place or were spotted!

 

Caught the bus up to the flats.

Lynne and Olive were there, Olive doing her laundry, Lynne to see how the messy installations were going. We had another gossip and laugh.

When I got up and out of the lift doors into the lobby area:

 

I’m dreading them coming on Thursday to do my apartment.

Health checks sorted.

Much noise of drilling from the flats around me. My turn to suffer on Thursday. I must ask Lynne about what needs moving before they come, cause I’ve forgotten, Tsk! 

Nosh started.

Updated this blog.

Tired now.

Got the seasoned beans with sausages and continental bread dished up.

Ate it all up, put the tray on the next chair and drifted off to sleep – where I stayed for hours until I woke up realising I had not taken the evening medications. Twit!