Inchcock Today – Tues 9 July 2019: Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Psychasthenia and Neuroticism reigned today! Humph!

Tuesday 9th July 2019

Italian: Martedì 9 Luglio 2019

00:35hrs. I woke up and noticed how red the left arm was puzzled. Cause I was not sleeping with it squashed or trapped. And it appeared red all over? Ah-well!

The escaping from the £300 second-hand, grotty-beige coloured, c1968, rusty, rickety recliner was so comfortable it was unbelievable. I stepped to the EGPWWB (Emergency Grey Plastic Wee-wee Bucket) and had myself a wee-wee of the RPDDWW (Reluctant-Painful-Dri-Drip-Wee-Wee) style. I thought as I patiently waited for the action to begin, the wee-wees were getting far less yesterday, and the bucket had hardly been used overnight – perhaps I should cut out the Furesomide tablets with the fluid retention being far less now?

At which time the Peripheral Neuralgia affected right leg suddenly launched into one of its lively versions of the Lambeth Waltz, with some one-legged Line Dancing thrown in! I reckon the Stomp was in there somewhere as well! Naturally, I dropped the bucket, tried to catch it while the sprinkling from Little Inchy continued, and poured the stale contents of the bucket over my legs and the carpet!

What a mess I was in! The first time in days that I haven’t taken the stick with me mind you, I’m not sure it would have helped in this case. I didn’t have enough working limbs to have saved the day! Haha! The cleaning up and sanitising cost me an hour of the day! Not to mention that when I used the Carpet cleaner, I suddenly realised I could not use the hoover cause of the time of day and annoying my sleeping neighbours! So, I had to get down with a bowl of water to remove the suds.

Gawd knows how I got back upright again. Luckily the recliner was strong enough for me to use as a lever. I’d woken up feeling fine – now Anne Gyna, Arthur Itis, Back-Pain-Brenda ad Hernia Harry were all giving me hassle and pain at the same time! Thank heavens for the Zoflora lemon and the Citrus air-freshener. I was a physical and mental disaster! Hard for people to understand the detrimental effects of Axonotmesis, I know… hell, it’s hard enough for me to grasp, and I’ve got it! Tsk! Hehehe!

I’d been hoping for a better day after Monday’s mental torment and disasters. I should have known better!

I pray my cleaning and de-smellingisational efforts work, especially with the nurse coming today. I began to feel a little sorry for myself, and adopted a lonely and depressing, self-annoying ‘Sullen-Self-Pitying-Mood!

As luck would have it when I was cleaning the cleaning equipment in the kitchen, I stubbed my toe against the sink door – I think it took my mind off of the urinal-contretemps, and also seemed to calm down the Peripheral Neuralgia sponsored leg from dancing! Which was good!

But, the hands and fingers kicked-off, and I no longer own a small pretty square-shaped blue & white mug! Not only that but the damned thing hit my foot in it’s way down to the kitchen floor to be smashed to smithereens! My ‘Sullen-Self-Pitying-Mood! of a few moments ago, changed to sort of ‘Sod-it-What-Did-You-Expect-You-Idiot!’ mood!

A proffered a short inner-cry, I avoided any outward wailing this time. (Hehe!) I got the health checks and medications taken. It felt like I had been up for four or five hours already. Then I realised that I had!

The wee-wee’s were more frequent today. Up to now, most have been of the RPDDWW (Reluctant-Painful-Dri-Drip-Wee-Wee) mode.

I had a Panic-Flustered-Moment, and went to check everything I could; taps (faucets) left on, electrics/lights left on, where the card and key were, checked that the new hearing aids were not missing. Then looked for the missing old hearing aids again. Huh!

During the checks, I found that a letter had been posted through the door, hand-delivered not by mail. (This must have been last afternoon when I heard the door chimes ringing?) It was from the Nottinghamshire Fire & Rescue Service. The letter started; Fire Safe & Well Visit and Smoke Alarm Fitting. Following a recent visit locally, we need to visit you to carry out a free safe & well visit and the fitting a smoke alarm in your property. (I thought I had one, it gets checked by the NCH (Nottingham City Homes regularlyish)- Offering safety advice with you and the importance of a night time routine and escape plan. Also a Fire Tip leaflet.

As I started this blog going, the fingers, hands, shoulder, and arm all had another Hokey-Cokey moment. After several minutes of annoyance and frustration, I gave up and decided to do the ablutions.

I went to the wet room and checked the water was going down the plug-hole, which it wasn’t. So I put some drain unblocker in the plug-hole and wiped the area. Giving the stated ten-minutes to soak, I went to the kitchen and got the hand-washing done.

On my return to the wet room, I found that I had left the tap running, and the place was well flooded by the cloth blocking the plug-hole! I really wanted to cry – Worra Day! On the bright side, it cleared out the previously unreachable back of the sink area, and lots of bit of flotsam had been moved by the water on its way to the shower drain! Hehe! On the downside, the bath matt had been soaked through! Ah, well! Had a cleanup and then started the ablutionalisationing.

No cuts while shaving, for the third time in a row. Limited Smug Mode Adopted! I won the battle with the leg-glide without injury. The legs were pale, and a few new papsules, blood veins, and spots had appeared.

Sadly, the hands began to play up (Not the arm, leg, or shoulder) jumping. But they settled down shortly before I had the shave. Only the finger-jumping persisted, and I coped with this in a fashion. No cuts! Well, alright one, but only a tiny one!

Made a brew, and it was nearly time for the nurse to arrive. I started on some graphics on CorelDraw.

The pretty, beautiful… nae, desirable precious INR nurse arrived, took my blood, and managed a little chinwag and laugh. She doesn’t like the balcony, but only because of her fear of heights.

Got dressed, and a final wee-wee, then readied things to get some bread – Asda I think 11:30hrs bus. A final wee-wee and I set out to the bus stop. I called in the Nottingham City Homes, Winwood Heights, Generaloberstesses Wardens Temporary HQ. WC, Holding cells. Rumourmongering Clinic. Sarcasm & Insult distribution area. Tenants Socialisationalistic Area. Telling Inchcock off Zone. Crockery and pottery to be stolen from location, and residents porta-cabin. Only Sturmbannführeress Warden and part-time Tatler magazine model Julie was in. A nibble was given, and a cheerio, then I was off to the bus stop.

I listened to the chinwagging and moaning going on. Paul had a support-strap on his arm. He is the chap who I mentioned the other week when I saw him on his new mobility Scooter for the first time. This old photo shows how we old uns have to go in the roadway, because of parked vehicles blocking the footpaths. Well, poor old Roger had the same thing on Winchester Street, and he had to go on the road, and his mobility scooter tipped over! Hence the poor lad’s injuries and hospitalisation! I didn’t think to ask if he was suing anyone.

Then caught an L9 to Arnold. The bus was well-filled, until Sherwood, where everyone got off, leaving me as the sole passenger for a while. But the bus filled up again en route.

I got off outside Asda and moved faster than I have in ages, in an effort to get the bits and to the bus stop in time to catch the next L9 back home. I’m not having a home delivery this week. So I got some of the Asda orange ice lollies, two packs of six, some Asda fries, and two loves of milk roll bread. I had to hobble to the far end of the shop to get to the self-serve checkouts. As I neared the entry, an ignorant young git walked in front of me to get there first. I almost lost control of the three-wheeler in my effort not to hit him. I wished I had driven into him afterwards.

But there were two free tills, and he went in one and I in t’other, giving him a look of distaste and a gentle tap with the front wheel of the trolley-guide. He had lots of bottles of spirits and wine, and I couldn’t resist saying to him as I nodded towards his shopping, “That explains your ignorance then!” In return, I got a look of confusion and hatred. Thankfully the young man chose his confusion as his primary response! Phew! And was soon done and departed. Hehe!

I paid for the stuff, £5.05, and made my way to the car park bus stop on High Street. The Asda filling station, an automatic one, actually had three cars in it at the same time! Fair enough one was putting air in his tyres. I’ve never seen the place so busy since it was first built! Hehe! The Asda on Hyson Green green, and pay booths, and always seems busy. But of course, the two robberies, two car-jackings, the stabbing, the shooting and three muggings that have taken place there, help enliven the surroundings!

I arrived back at the flats, and gingerly made my way back along the footpath, which is far safer than using the road, but far dirtier (leaves, twigs, bird-poo, dog-poo, general dropped rubbish, cars blocking the footpath and an uneven surface). This meaning the wheels on the trolley take the crap into the flat! So I usually use the road, but there were too many cars belting up and down the road this afternoon.

I fumbled a bit, but the fingers and hand were being all calm. Thus I managed to take an ostensibly reasonable shot of each of the Courts on the way home, along Chestnut Way.

I have to say, the Willmott Dixon workers and planners are absolute geniuses! They had planted some plastic piping on the verge side on the footpath. And here’s me, who didn’t even know they came from plants! Hehehe! Remember the April Fools gag on the TV about growing Spaghetti? A seriously made joke from the BBC. Brilliant!

Link: BBC 1959 TV Gag

The supply cabins were added to the works at the flats by Willmott Dixon, on Chestnut Way, it must have been eighteen months back now. (And five more months to go at least) The wildflowers had found a way to grow and blossom under the edges of the metal containers. Bootiful!

A wee-wee of a gruellingly long length was the first thing I did after getting into the flat. A new designation had to granted for this type of liquid evacuation. An MESWW (Marathon-Endless-Sprinkling-Wee-Wee). Knowing when it had ended was not easy, due to there being no physical acknowledgement of the progress! And, my oleaginous tummy being located in the line of view, of any visual checking of the situation! Hehehe! I’m not sure how long it took, but it must be an Inchcock record, considering the tiny amount of liquid I evacuated in the end.

I put the bits away and got some of the fries in the oven, a sliced up third of the Pork Farms pie, pickled gherkins, garden peas, a Marmite cheese knob, sliced tomatoes, and four of the Quorn Hot Dog sausages done for dinner. Some spring water with added orange cordial, a lemon mousse, a mini-lemon cake slice. With some Twiglets nibbled later. Guilty Mode Engaged!

I devoured it all! A flavour rating if 7/10 was granted. The Asda Fries were pretty bland and let down the meal. I stripped off and washed, and got settled down in the near-dilapidated, rickety, rusty, noisy, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, second-hand, £300, sometimes working, uncomfortable recliner, to watch an episode of Rumpole of the Bailey. But it was spoilt by irritating noises I could just about hear, but not identify. Several times I got worried that something had fallen over, collapsed or some other catastrophe had taken place. I had no choice but to keep getting up to have a check around, I could hear more odd different noises as I went around the flat, but not identify them. Most disquietening!

I gave up on the TV and got my head down. I fell asleep. When I woke, around 1900hrs, the noises seemed louder and more frequent. Getting back to sleep took me ages. The mystery noises will never be solved, I’m sure. With them still on at this time of night, I imagine they would not be from any workers? They were far less often now, but still, I had once more to get up and check around.

There are some flats available by the way. If any sadistic, peace-hating, noise-loving, none car owners of Nottinghamian’s are interested? Hehe!