Inchcock Today – Wonderful Wed 22 Jan 2020: Griping, verbal-sniping, insults, chinwags, put-downs, argle-bargle, the world put to rights! Yee-Haa!

Wednesday 22nd January 2020

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 22ain Ionawr 2020

22:25hrs: I stirred, in somewhat of a bit of a puddled state. I thought I had only been asleep for a few minutes, I got the spectacles on and found I’d kipped for about four hours or so. I withdrew my excessively overweight, lardy-stomached body from the £300, grotty, second-hand, c1968 recliner.

 I grabbed the walking stick, and within three paces on my journey to the Porcelain Throne, I stubbed my toe on the hearth of the electric fire! As I was busy absorbing the pain and trying not to swear out loud,  the ‘Hum’ became more and more noticeable and loud! Grangle-Grumps and Hoggledruids! That put an end to my plan to get my head back down after the evacuation, I was physically more awake now, at least! Haha!

I got to the wet room Throne in time, barely in time again, thanks to the altercation twixt my toe and the furniture! The releasing was less painful, less messy, and quicker than recently. But a considerable amount of bleeding? Why the difference almost every time I visit, I don’t understand. It doesn’t take much to obnubilate my brain nowadays.

I put the kettle on and moved the handwashing to above the heater. Then I realised I’d not taken the evening medications. So I did.

I had a look, out through the light & view-blocking, unwanted thick-framed new kitchen windows, and the fog was about. I took a photo, sticking my camera attached to my hand by loop, out and blindly had to take this photo, of the Chestnut Walk car park below. I say blindly; because the new window’s poorly painted black ledges stick out so far. That it is a physical impossibility for someone of my plump stature, lack-of-height, physical limitations, ailments and old age, and I cannot get to see out and down, through these hideously-designed windows, like the old ones that we were happy with. That was before the two-year plus, two-million pound plus modernisation. That has left me with dangerous electrical sockets. Ruined carpets. New storage heaters Einstein would not understand how to use! That crumbling new balcony that the glass fogs up to block the view, windows in it that need a masters degree, the strength of Goliath and a first-aid-box at the ready before I dare try to open them! Hello, I wandered of the subject again. Sorry!

Where was I? Oh yes, gorrit now! I made the brew and took the medications and got on with updating the Tuesday diary. Which with my being stuck indoors again all day, few photographs were taken or needed. So I got it completed fairly quickly.

I got some mushrooms and new potatoes into the slow-cooker, added some .balsamic vinegar to it. No real plans on what I was going to have to eat later on, but it had to involve mushrooms and potatoes, now. Har-har!

The EQ butted in as I got the blog finished, and I was feeling rather pleased with myself! Just a simple warning; “Something is going to go wrong, you’ve been lucky so far. Try to accept it as a natural part of your existence – it has to happen to stem any chance of Inchcock feeling any contentment! And you know how nervous that makes you feel!” A bit precise there, Humph!

The ridiculously loud ‘Hum’ was growing more emphatic than ever! It might be the end of the world coming. I didn’t think I would live long enough to see this. Not that it matters much to me, I’ve not been very successful at living anyway. Never got the hang of it, I suppose.

I was on CorelDraw, uploading the photo I’d taken, and the computer screen flickered, and the Dreaded Blue Screen came on with the message: Your computer has met a problem. We will record this and restart when the details are accrued. I fumbled to get the camera to photo the screen, found that the SD card was still in the reader, got it in the camera, switched on… as the computer started to reset.

I opened things on the computer and found that I’d lost the CorelDrawings, the blog and Word notes I’d done! Crying was an option that I considered, as was smashing up the computer and suicide. But I settled for some silent, although I have to admit, hellaciously-vicious, heinous cursing! But I still wanted to cry! The EQ was right again.

I had to get some graphics done again, I had none ready in advance at all now! I was in a right furciferous mood now, and almost instantly, Duodenal Donald kicked-off, and it was most uncomfortable. I know the Peptic crap medicine is not much use, but I took a good few gulps and a Ramipril and Lansoprazole in the hopes of calming the innards down. For what good it did, I might as well have phoned for the Bank Manager to help!

So, fed-up, in pain, being driven mad by the dastardly-annoying ever louder, ‘Hum’, and in a right pee’d-off mood, I began working again on CorelDraw (Fingers-crossed!) But things went wrong, and CorelDraw was playing me up. So, I abandoned the computer, resisting the temptation to drop it down the waste-chute, and went to get the ablutionalisationing sorted.

I took a couple of photos from the kitchen window first.

While performing the ablutions, Duodenal Donald, suddenly departed? Most pleasing, but surprising. The session went very well, indeed. No toe-stubbings, no Sock-Glide injuries, only one shaving cut, and the dropsies were only about five in number!

After getting freshened and medicated afterwards, I had a few incidents. I dropped the fresh-air spray can twice, the Germoloid and Savlon tubes, the body spray, and Saccades-Sandra drops! The only one that really wrangled me was when I was struggling to get the trousers on, Shaking Shaun visited me at just the wrong moment! I lost balance and fell towards the floor cupboards.

Then I had to retrieve; the toilet rolls, the Corticosteroid and Daktacort tubes, the Olive-oil and Eye drop bottles, and a load of PP’s, which I had stacked neatly in the corner, thinking they would be safe and handy to get at, from where they’d fallen on the floor! I have little confidence in the way I had got them re-stacked. Grungle-Grumps!

Hey-ho! Things could be worserer. At least I am pleased to be getting out and about, even if it is only to see the Bank Manager!

Made up the black bags to take to the chute on the way out, and got some potatoes in the crock-pot. Then, I got dressed up nice and warmly. I could see it was wet and cold outside, but the fog had lifted.

I set off, to the chute, then down in the elevator. Along the link-passage to Winwood Court lobby, and bravely knocked on the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Holding Cell, Interrogation Room and Office door! (Haha!) Sheena was in on her own, I handed out the Easter pressie treats for all three, chatted at least 12 words between us, and set off for the bus stop through the Windwood Court Social room.

Meeting up with Jenny ♥ and Frank, Doris, Margaret, Christine, Betty, Penny, Welsh William (who ignored me in his usual casual, but expert fashion), and some other Winwoodonians. We moved out to the bus stop, and much laughter, accusations, griping, verbal-sniping, insults, gossiping, put-downs, argle-bargle, and putting the world to rights was done and I enjoyed hearing it all. By gum, some days like today, it is a pleasure and honour to listen to the gang when they are in full verbalistical flow. I love it!

On the bus, the nit-picking continued for the few stops down Winchester Street, where most of us alighted the bus. I got off last as is usual. To avoid catching anyone with my trolley and or, being shoulder charged or trod on. Hahaha! I had a natter with Jen and Frank as I waited for the lights to change, then crossed over to the bank and entered.

Only one cashier on duty and a fair-sized queue to join. But it didn’t matter to me, I was in no rush, I had an hour before the bus to go back up the hill was due. Then the full force of Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis came! With a peripheral neuropathic inspired, involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance from the right leg was performed! I did feel a fool, right in front of many customers, the CCTV camera as well!

Luckily, there was a long wait in which I regained some control of the limbs, all bar the right arm and shoulder anyway. They were twitching away for ages, even when I got served.

Then the stuttering starting! The lady was short on sympathy and empathy. She got a little vexed and irked with me, I think. But she was under pressure being the only one on the counter. The line of customers was ever increasing as I struggled to get my messages across to her. Then a slightly harassed looking lady opened the till next to the one I was on and started to serve people. I didn’t actually look directly at her, but then I didn’t need to. I and my EQ sensed the daggers!

Very slowly, Shaun and Dennis began to ease off, although Dizzy Dennis stayed with me for a while longer. Eventually, Stuttering-Stephany departed as well. I handed in the cheque. Asked for some money, and explained why I needed to see the Manager, to clear up my confusion and sort out why the interest had been cancelled.

However, the Manager was not available today, I could make an appointment. I agreed, hoping and praying that it would be on a good day for me healthwise. So, I agreed. One was made for 10:00hrs on Wednesday 29th January. Hope I’m still alive then. Hehehe! When the stuttering stopped, the lady began to change her firm stance and obvious annoyance at me. She gave me a card and stapled the time and date to it. Telling me that if I can’t get at that time, I’ve to ring ASAP the number on the card and inform them. I thanked her.

As I departed, the dividing plastic protection glass, seemed to mist up a bit? I assume it was her exhalation of air, her massive sigh of relief, at getting rid of me! Haha!

I got out of the bank onto Mansfield Road. Still not feeling right, a smidge unbalanced, and stood a minute or two leaning up against the wall, and took a photo of up, then down, of Sherwood’s, Mansfield Road.

I then spotted the piece of Nottinghamnian Street Art, beneath the cashpoint (ATM). Possibly an Alcoholic inspired display of an overrated takeaway meal? Tsk!

By then, I was free of bother from Saccades-Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Arthur Itis, Stuttering Stephany, Reflux Roger, Back-Pain Brenda, and Peripheral-Neuropathic-Pete! Dizzy Dennis was lingering a bit, but far less severe. I do hate it when I get a visit from Stuttering Stephany, and always, well mostly, when I am talking to someone unknown to me? Thank heavens these episodes are a rarely suffered.

I hobbled up the hill, knowing if I did go into a shop, I might miss the bus! But the craving for the Puff Pasty Fingers was too intense for me to resist them. So, I popped into the Az Local Sherwood shop. As I went in, my old mate Big John (Wayne), appeared on the pavement. It was nice to see him after so long. The girls at the flats have certainly missed him. This photo was taken a few years ago. In the temporary social and wardens cabin. Happy times, but it makes me realise how much I missed seeing Jenny and Cyndy every week. Hehe! We don’t go to the new Thursday social now. I wandered off the subject a bit there! John said he’d call on me later on. But he said that fourteen months ago when I met him in Carrington. It doesn’t matter though, he’s a popular and busy bloke, who’s helped me out so many times in the past.

I popped into the shop, with the help again of Big John, who held the door open for me to get the three-wheeled walker-guide through the narrow doorway, bless him.

I didn’t have the time to nosey around, I made for the Puff Pastry Fingers shelves and was glad to find some in stock, I got two packets. Then I grabbed a pack of tomatoes as I made to the checkout counter to pay Az. Who actually greeted me when I hobbled into the shop. Made me jump, him talking! Haha!

Out and made my way up to the bus stop, across the pelican lights to the top of the hill. I have to say; I was in much better condition by then. The only ailment still giving me bother Dizzy Dennis, but, nowhere near as bad as earlier, hardly bothering me really, but the fact that he was still there, boded poorly for the evening. He is usually in the face or no there at all; he doesn’t often hang on like this. But hey-ho, I can cope with it if he doesn’t start spinning me. Like Prince Andrew, No sweat! Humorous, biting sarcasm sneaked in there! Hahaha!

It helped cheer me up when I got to the shelter. Jenny, Angela, Roy,  and Frank joined me, and the sarcasm’s, telling Inchcock off’s and laughter began! Meeting them, reminded me of how much I miss the old Hut Social Hour. And Roy was looking so much better today, I have been a tad concerned after his fall last week, on Mansfield Road. He’s a fighter and bouncer-backer, without a doubt! Good for him, and Angie! As are Jenny and Frank too. And me. We all are! Har-har!

The bus arrived, and we were soon back at Windwood Heights. I got off last again, and with light, a not loaded trolley, I had no trouble getting off the bus. I did have a job catching up with Angela and Roy. Angela with her new three-wheeler-trolley guide, had mastered it already, as they eventually waited for me to catch up with them at the foyer. That was nice of them! They had a sit-down in the Winwood lobby settee. I didn’t want to have Arthur Itis having another go at the knees by bending to sit again after the bus trip, so said my farewells and carried on to Woodthorpe Court.

I got in the apartment and tried to concentrate the mind on what needed doing. The first thing was, I got the computer on and added the Banks appointment to the calendar. No excuse to miss it now!

It dawned on me, how the calls to the WC had been so scarce today? Mmm!

I pondered with great assiduity and much ditherisationing on what to eat as sustenance to help keep my magnificently honed body and mentally-alert brain in good condition. (Alright, that’s enough laughing! Hehehehehe!) After deep thought, I opted to have the braised steak in gravy (boil in the bag type) for my din-dins. Then I can put the mushrooms, potatoes and garden peas in. And, maybe have a dip of bread in the gravy? Dad used to do that… when we could afford meat or gravy. A rare treat!

I got the photographs onto the computer and kept nipping into the kitchen to check the pan of mushrooms and potatoes, the pan of peas and the pan of water with the beef in didn’t overflow. Of course, it did, several times! I can’t remember ever having a meal using three saucepans and nowt else? I had to clean up almost every time I went to check the fodder!

What an ambrosial feast!

Rich onion grave, beef, mushrooms, garden peas, new potatoes, two slices of bread, a strawberry trifle for afters, and no need for wee-weeing during eating. Flavoursome in the extreme! Add to this, the ailments, (well Dizzy Dennis was lingering, but not badly, I just hope he hasn’t taken up permanent residence!), and the ‘Hum’ dying down – and the contented well-filled stomach… I felt great! (Of course, I knew it couldn’t and wouldn’t last, but made the best of it!) 

I stayed in the chair, wallowing in a sort of satisfied, happy stomached self-contentedness for ages, then forced myself to go and get the pots washed.

It’s surprising how sharp them cheapo Wilko forks are, innit!  Tsk!

Another rotten night in which I woke-up frequently and in a disoriented state of mind. This I put down to either the wonderfully luxurious meal I enjoyed, or, and more likely; the brain not being used to coping with my having a decent day!

TTFNski!