Inchcockski – Monday 2nd March 2020: Humph!

2020 Mar 02

Monday 2nd March 2020

Somali: Isniin 2-da Maarso 2020

02:05hrs: I woke and immediately attempted to disentangle my warped, flobby-bellied body, from the c1968, second-hand, £300, rickety recliner to respond to the call to the Porcelain Throne, which was not an easy task! For the limbs were spread about, in positions that I could never physically get them into when conscious. The left leg over the arm of the chair, dangling on the other chair. The right arm bent underneath my body-mass, the torso with the bum, almost off of the cushion. How did I get like this? Noctambulation, or Nocturnal nibbling?

I was puzzled, but still in need of an evacuation. I semi-rolled out of the recliner, gained my balance, grabbed the four-pronged stick, and straight to the wet room. There were no automatic movements, no struggling to force things along, no bleeding, no mess, no undue miasmas, no mass evacuation of wind, and no mess! Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it?. It was! All that spoilt things was the agony! Hahaha! I don’t know why I laughed then?

However, the pins were looking good again. The battle-scarred scratches on the right shin from the losing Sock-Glide battle, were healing up already? And itching like buggery!

I pondered over this for a while. The Peripheral Neuropathy, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying nerve ends, may not be sending the message to the brain about any injuries or cuts (So they tell me at the hospital). Or else, is delayed in doing so. So, how come the brain has sent the white blood cells, called a macrophage, (In’t Google good, Hehe!) takes on the role of wound protector to clear the wounds up so quickly? Then again, the blood is not the nerves, so maybe this would account for… Oh, I give up!

I must remember to ring Sister Jane up later. Not too early, though, with her being an alcoholic, she goes out a lot and needs her daily recovery time in bed. Snigger! Jane is usually up by eleven or around there. Not Pete, though, he’s up nice and early, off out to get the papers and check on his bank account and investments at the ATM, and then get some lottery tickets from the newspaper shop as well. With a winning record of over 40%, you can’t blame him. He’s the only bloke I know who makes a profit on the lottery. So it’s just as well he is a born philargyrist. I am awful!

I moved the handwashing that was dry enough to be safe, over the crap, needing Einstein to understand heater in the kitchen. Then got the kettle on. (I good at this. Har-har!)

I got the new Pill-Blister pack out of the medical cupboard, and was so disappointed in what I found!

This pack had even more tablets mixed in different days and stuck, hidden underneath the cellophane, than last weeks did! You’ve got to admit, that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2D, are a cut above other bad chemists, with their consistently uncaring nature, and dedication to crap, life-threatening service. Just thought I’d mention them, in case I forgot to earlier. I’d hate to die through taking the wrong medications, and them to get away scot-free with it!

The biggest shame of it is that they used to be so reliable and trustworthy last year.

At long last, hours after getting up, I got around to doing some graphics, then started to update the Sunday post. All done, but it took me three hours. I went on Comments, then WP reader, ending up doing this blog.

The Ocado order arrived. I put the order in before having diabetes diagnosed, so I ordered some biscuits, lots of them, to make up the minimum order! And some lemon curd yoghourts! Tsk! I’ll give the cookies away so that I won’t be tempted!

Some of the tasty small Notoora black tomatoes looked tempting. I hope to get out to get some fresh veg in, but it’s not looking good, no nurse yet.

The ‘Hum’ and the workers drilling on the floor above is getting to me.

Turned everything off, and got the Ablutions sorted out. What a miracle session! Only one shaving cut and four dropsies. The Sock-Glide battle was a draw! Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bloodless as well! 

No nurse has turned up for the blood testing yet!

Sister Jane rang, which was nice, but made it difficult for me to be on the phone, and still hear if the door or intercom chimes. While we were nattering, I thought I heard something, so nipped to check after telling Jane. No one was there. A couple of minutes later, and I listened to the Intercom ringing. I had to tell Jane and ring off; it was someone from the Falls Team arriving. He asked me to do a survey and questionnaire (these seem to be coming in thick and fast!)  Tsk! Off he trotted, telling me the paperwork will be posted to me?

I washed the jumper and socks, all done, rung and hung to dry over the sink.

Then it dawned like a light coming on: It’s Monday today, not Tuesday! (I’m quick sometimes, Fool! So no nurse is expected today; What a grade-one twit!

Then took the bags and cardboard out to the waste chute. A worker chap was in the lobby and kindly took them from me. I took a couple of photos of the progress on the works. The previously leaning light is back level on the wall, and the Dri-Riser access point has been revealed.

Back in the flats, popped out again with some no-longer-allowed sweet biscuits, and handed them to one of the worker-lads to hand around his mates. Back in and took another photo from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking kitchen window. The first one was taken about three hours ago.

I set out on my walk down into Sherwood, along Chesnut Walk, down Winchester Street onto Mansfield Road and over to the banks ATM to get some funds.

En route, I took a photo of a broken fence, a fire-engine coming up Winchester Street and a Pavement Cyclist near the main road. I make this written list, for a good reason: I took them all before seeing the message telling me ‘The SD card in this camera is locked’, on the Canon view screen! As memory and logicality-challenged Schmucks go, I must surely be in line for some sort of medal by now? 

I withdrew some money and hobbled up to the bus stop to wait for the L9 bus to arrive. I asked a lady who was there before me, if the L9 bus had been yet, please? Oh, dear, the first stare back at me told me to keep my gob shut, which I did!

I heard a klaxon going, and got the camera out, I saw the ambulance coming toward the traffic light junction of Winchester Street – Mansfield Road.

That could have been nasty!

A Taxi (Fancy that!) parked near the bus stops and dropped a lady off, who nipped in Abdhul’s food shop, and returned with a bag of what looked like cream cakes? Ah, Gawd, I’ll miss them now! (Jealousy! Caterwauling, Ululations and a temporary Invidious-Mode adopted, Hehehe!)

The blinding sunshine was totally heatless, or so it seemed, anyway. A regular Sherwood pavement cyclist I noticed over the road, had been joined, by a young make oink of a scooter-rider today.

The bus arrived a good fifteen minutes late, but I was glad it had. As the folks from the flats who nipped down on the bus alighted, I greeted each one with something like, ‘Good Morning!’, ‘Ay-up Bill, how you doing?’ and ‘A bit nippy this morning John?’ No replies from anyone.

I got on the bus and stuck into the crossword book. I was doing well as well, for me. Had to put it away in Daybrook, to concentrate more on not falling out of the side-saddle seat at every corner that Stirling Moss took, or when he jammed his anchors on! It became evident that the reason for the bus being late, as they had blocked off a road for Gas Work repairs! That would qualify the driver to be forgiven for his erratic driving.

Spur of the moment job, as the bus turned into Arnold Road, I decided to shop at Sainsbury’s for my fresh food supplies. And boy, did I get some! No expense spared either! I had the Dennis Dizzies as I shopped, but got through to the checkout with the most significant load, but everything I had bought was in date enough to last me the week! Nop excuse for not eating fresh food this week! (Part of the self-imposed ‘Inchcock Instigated Intake Itinerary’ Hehehe! Grated Red Leicester Cheese (For Josie’s potatoes, of course, not for me, oh, No!), Little Gem lettuce, Sugar Snap peas, Anchor butter, Surimi Royale imitation fish and sticks. Italian brown tomatoes Leticia (Gorgeous taste!) Cucumber, Podded Nicaraguan peas, £1.50 for 150g! They did have some of my favourite apples, English Cox’s in, but they were much too large for me. (I opted to try some I’ve not had before, ‘Cameo’ variety). Some radishes. What I found later were superb flavoured leeks. mushrooms, mushrooms, Chantenay carrots, and baby parsnips (These were excellent roasted!)

At the checkout, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed, and I lost my balance and banged my left side ribs against the counter. Leaving me feeling all flustered! Tsk! Then, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Stuttering  Stephany joined me, and I made a right mess of things and delayed people behind me. I dropped the cash card, leeks and then the parsnips, and the kind till lady came round and packed the bag for me. There were no words spoken by those people behind me. They were not needed, the stares of derision and contempt were more than sufficient to make me feel awkward and a tad ashamed. I moved away to near the doors, and I had a lean against the wall for a while. To gather my composure. A few minutes later, I felt a lot easier and more balanced and carefully limped out and to the bus stop.

I guessed that the L9 would not be on time with all the roadworks the poor drivers have to put up with. I began to talk with a lady who arrived, and the stuttering was still with me.

Eventually, the bus arrived, and I got settled in the side-saddle seat. But it was a battle to stay in it. Haha! I had a dizzy spell en route, but it didn’t last long, the memories of my performance at the shop tills and the disgust I aroused in people did though.

Back at the flats, I made my way home, with the pain from the ribs increasing. Humph!

I’m not sure what happened for a while after getting into the apartment. But I found myself waking up in the recliner later, the food had been put away, food laid out on the plate on the tray, some parsnips, carrots and sweet potatoes were in the oven cooking, a saucepan with the mushrooms, leeks and garden peas was on the hob… A bloody-good job I woke-up when I did! Phew!

Then I realised why I woke up, the door chime was ringing out its tune, Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫. For once, I was glad that Josie woke me up to return the plate etc. from her Sunday lunch.

I later found these pictures I’d taken of the food I’d bought. But can I remember taking them? No!

Still, they show up the freshness of the products I got, on a Monday, as well!

I checked the food in the oven, carrots, parsnips and sweet potato chips, and was glad to see that I’d sprayed they with olive oil first.

Feeling slightly bemused, or discombobulated by events, I checked things all over for safety. There were no signs of any Whoopsiedangleplops or Accifauxpas that I could see.

Then got the meal served up. This turned out to be a Flavour Rating of 9.25/10 dinner! Not perfect, the sweet potatoes somewhat burnt, but that suited me, they tasted wonderful! The beetroots were well-cooked and soft! The brown tomatoes, peas, mushrooms delightful! The pretend fish and leeks were also lip-smackingly good! And, I think the few anchovies, and the Marmite cheese, rounded things off nicely?

I consumed it slowly, my allotriophagy and pica were satiated! But, I fear I may have over-gormandised a tad? (Guilty-Mode-Engaged!)

The landline flashed, I don’t know how, but I got up and to it in time before it stopped. It was a phlebotomy nurse, telling me she would be with me tomorrow twixt 11:00 and 13:30hrs. A little late for me. (Good job I got out today for the fresh foods!)

I washed the pots and got down in the uncomfortable recliner… Zzzz!

Inchcockski – Sun 1 Mar 2020: Frequent farceur farcicalities today!

Ah, Memories!

Sunday 1st March 2020

Esperanto: Dimanĉe 1 Marto 2020

02:15hrs: I woke in a depressional gulley, and felt awfully low. Why? I don’t know! I laid there a while, not moving, and hardly interested being bothered to breathe, let alone getting up and doing anything!

My thanks now, to the howling ‘Hum’. For taking my attention away from the morass of melancholy, I was in. The instant I silently spat out my hatred for the ever-present, mindnumbing humming noise, everything started to get back to normal. The whole episode only last a couple of minutes or so?

I was out of the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige coloured, c1968, rickety-recliner in no time. Well, pretty quickly for me, and with little aching or pains from any ailments either! Oh, yes!

As I was catching my balance, stick in hand, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. A damned fine session today. No bleeding from anywhere, not too messy and I didn’t drop or knock anything over! Fair enough, I did stub my toe against the shower chair, but it was the right foot, and thanks to Nicodemus Neurotransmitters being on strike at that moment, there was hardly any pain! Hehehe! I shouldn’t laugh, when they start working again, the belated message will be sent to the brain (No wonder I get confused!), and the twinges will be felt then. Grubbulisations!

To the kitchen, to find that I had not taken last nights medications! Woe is me! I had to guess at which tablets were the Furesomide, Beta-blockers and Codeines. This is thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, who seem to have it in for me this year! They failed as promised to take out the Furesomide from the blister-packs, Twice! Then left me for five-days without any painkillers or Bisoprolol 10mg (Beta-blockers). This month, their blister packs came undone, and all the unidentifiable tablets have got mixed up! For anyone not wishing to be killed by this pharmacy; the photo above on the right indicates what is to be avoided. By anyone wanting to stay alive. Just another reminder: Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA.

As I was setting up CorelDraw to make some graphics for the page tops, Toothache Tim and Anne Gyna both kicked off. (I thought things were going wellish?) Throughout the next three hours or so, I kept making cups of tea and letting them get cold, in my vigorous attempts at getting the graphicalisationing done. Tsk!

The wind didn’t seem so strong this morning, but when I opened the window to take a photo, it soon got closed again! Brrr! Blimey, it was cold. As the sunshine seemed to get stronger and came out brighter, I swear it got even colder, not warmer! No view shot was taken!

As I turned, there was a click, followed by Back-Pain-Brenda bitterly biting bother! Argh! I took some painkillers, bringing out the big boy Co-codamol and a Codeine.

Realised how late it was, so turned everything off, and went to get the ablutions tended to.

I got some of Josie’s dinner cooking, and the landline flashed and rang. It was Sister Jane. I’m afraid I could not hear everything she was saying, she was talking as fast as our Auntie Bobbie. (Hehe!) But, my being not log out of the showering session, I did not have my hearing aids in. I must ring her back! (I forgot when I fell asleep later, Oh, dearie me, in trouble again methinks!)

The dropsies were galore today. Toothbrush (2), toothpaste, shaving foam, razors (2), mouthwash (broke plastic bottle), carbolic soap, flannel, shower-head, towel (3), jammie bottoms, socks… on and on! The usual Sock-Glide brouhaha, battle and bruises were avoided, by my not putting any socks on (Cunning Plan!).

When I came out of the wet room, things were very blue! Not the naughty language type (Hehe!) but the colour blue. The Hue!

I took these shots from left to right. Amazing, how quickly the dank, drizzly sky was when I entered the wet room, now look at it! But despite the cloudless blue sky, it was still so damned cold with the window open!

I got the handwashing done, rung and hung. All over the flat in different rooms, it was hanging.

I got Josie’s nosh all ready and forgot to take a photo of it in my rush to get it to her while still warm. A Special one today, too. The cheesy-mashed potato was the best I have ever made. That was thanks to the coloured extra-strong red cheddar I bought from Fultons. It really was strong, lovely! (Naturally, being Josie’s official Sunday Chef, I had to taste it). With Lurpak butter, sea-salt and some chives, I was proud of it. The tuna flakes in brine had some mayonnaise mixed in it. Tomatoes sliced and sea-salted. The five-bean mix, I made sure was well cooked through, and the last tin of Aldi garden peas was used. Beetroot was sliced for her, and some caramelised onion chutney on the side. A pot of limoncello dessert, and a can of pin Gin & tonic, all on the tray.

I did, in my haste to get it to her, foolishly carried the tray instead of using the wheeled server trolley. But got away with it, despite a couple of wobbles, in which I clouted my elbows. I shan’t risk that again! She seemed glad enough at the look of her meal, we had a few seconds gossip in which I explained that sadly, she may never get such a good cheesy mashed potato again. With me getting it from Fultons, a shop that gets stuff if it is cheap, and often I never see them on sale again. I wished her happy eating, and returned to the flat, all of three paces (Hehehe!)

Josie noticed some letters on my hallway floor and stepped over to pick them up for me,  bless her. She put them on the radiator. (Not working)

I got the dreaded job of the washing up done first. Gawd, cleaning the cheesy-mash off of the cutlery, is the hardest job on a Sunday! Then as I started to get my nosh on the go, a twinge of sadness overcame me, when I realised that my days of cheesy potatoes on my plate are numbered! (Diabetes!) I did, of course, have to try the potatoes after mixing, as part of my part-time chefs’ job (Haha!) Two overloaded filthy-great serving spoons full! It tasted gorgeous!

Then as I was getting my nosh prepared, (Braised beef in onion sauce, cook-in-the-bag) a moment of uncertainty arose. Had I locked the front door, I sometimes do, as getting into the habit of never locking it while I’m inside, so the paramedics can gain entry, is still hard to remember not to do… Does that sound right? I went to check, finding the door unlocked. Then saw letters on the heatless heater.

I opened them in trepidation. The first was obviously the test results of last Monday’s INR blood taking. Took their time getting it back to me, didn’t they? It must have been delivered on Saturday, five days later, and the dosages had changed because the reading was down to 1.7 INR, and I have been taking the wrong amounts for five days! Inchyangulations!

The other two were both from Ingeus diabetes people. A letter outlining the procedures for the sessions. And again, telling me to ring then if I want to proceed, on a Birmingham telephone number. Which is not available on a weekend, but Mon to Frid 0800 > 20hrs. Along with an eleven-page questionnaire for me to fill in. Something tells me these courses are not going to go well! Not my EQ, I might add, just a feeling. It appears that the courses are for different times than the man with the undecipherable voice told me. Once a week for four weeks, then I might get invited back for once-a-month follow-up sessions for nine months. It said in the letter in bold print: “8 out of 10 people who turn up once complete the first part of the programme” I’m not sure what this intimidatory, subliminal message implies?

Many years ago, when suffering one of my many redundancies, and claiming benefit, I went on an Ingeus Training Course in Nottingham, on Maid Marion Way. It was delivered in an automaton, emotionless, empathyless style as I recall. Obviously, the company has conned the NHS (or back-handed someone) to get the contract.

I pressed on making the meal. I moved the five-beans, baked (burnt) parsnips, potatoes and garden peas into one saucepan, flavoured with black bean sauce.

Got them all drained and added to the braised beef in onion gravy. I certainly filled the bowl!

I got the meal into the front room, put it down, and the telephone chirped and flashed! It was the Amazon delivery. (Don’t I have a lot of bad timing lately? Humph!)

I thanked the young man, wished him well, and hobbled hastily back to the room, and placed the collapsable walking stick and Picker-Upperer on the flat airer. I’ll check them out later in the morning.

As you can see above right, my meal on the plate on the chair in the background was awaiting my attention! Tsk!

I got down and tucked into it, with my feet up on a chair, the TV on with Hetty Wainthrope showing, and proceeded to dribble gravy onion down my chin, chest, and belly. Yes, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure was back again! I just carried on, nowt else to be done. By gum, I enjoyed this nosh! A flavour Rating of 9.2/10!

Then, after giving things time to digest, while I watched to the end of the Hetty programme, and it was off to do even more washing up! But my meal’s muck was so much easier to get cleaned.

The usual weariness dawned, but the sleep once again refused to come for yonks!

Inchcockski – Sat 29 Feb 2020: Chinwaggless, mentally malfunctioning & trying day!

Saturday 29th February 2020

Danish: Lørdag 29. Februar 2020

00:05hrs: I stirred into ersatz life with a Thought-Storm. But I think the frontal and parietal lobes were at odds with each other, and one of them refused to get involved? Hehe! For it was all over in a minute or so? Then the noise from outside caught my wandering attention. Not, for once, the ‘Hum’, but the wind and rain hitting the windows. (Mind you, the horrible hum returned as soon as the rain stopped later!) Storm Jorge, I presume? This tells me that the reason for the ‘Hum’, unknown to man and science, is related to the weather and or atmosphere? I considered emailing the Government to advise them of my thought? No, maybe not.

The old brain has kicked back into action again! I’d better take things slowly today. Not that there’s much choice, though. I’ve got tons to catch up with on the Computerisationing side. Mind you, Saturday’s are the best day for it, I don’t usually see anyone, so I decided to remove my heavily-ladened stomach and body from the rickety recliner and get on with things. A trace of willpower and determination crept in there – steady on, Inchy! Careful now!

I was caught out by my unsteadiness when I rose to grab the stick. But it didn’t last for long, thankfully. A took a couple of paces, and the innards started to rumble and grumble, so I diverted from the kitchen to the wet room. 

It was a good job that I did! The evacuation once again started of its own accord! I must tell the Doctor about this on my next visit for the test results. However, the session was one of the easiest and least painful I’d had in weeks, no messiness either! I reckon today, that has already shown up some changes, differences and surprises, is going to be a day of them?

As I was making my first essential, crucial, vital, imperative brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, I noticed the lack of stinging from the right legs Sock-Glide injuries. So, I whipped down the jammie-bottoms and took a look, then this photo of them. It’s amazing how things seem to clear up so quickly on the right side of the body lately. Great stuff!

Got the medications out, took them with spring water and then mashed the tea.

It seemed to be going okay this morning. Which, of course, made me get my Worry-Bonnet on. It’s not Kosher for things to go well for me, almost paranormal! I tried to enjoy things while they lasted, but an irritating uncomfortableness and expectancy of failure, misunderstandings and/or cock-ups lingered! I can’t help it!

I had another determined deep time-consuming search for the collapsable walking stick, but no luck. I wonder if I gave it to someone? Did I break it? Anyroad, I decided to buy another one. Went on Amazon. I also ordered a long picker-upperer at the same time. Both to be delivered on Sunday. Hopefully, the same thing won’t happen to either again this time. I’ll try not to lose this collapsable walking-stick, keep it in the trolley-walker. And the picker-upper, I will try not to leave where the walking stick goes, then I won’t mistake it for a walking-stick, get a dizzy-on and break it falling over! (Life can be a challenge you know. [Cry of sarcastic, mirth!])

I eventually got around to computerisationing! It felt like I’d been up for hours already… hang-on, I had! Tsk! I started on the Friday blog updating. It took me a few hours with all the photos I’d made. But my persistency paid off, and it was finally finished and posted off!

I made another brew and got the mushroom in the crock-pot with some black-bean sauce, sea salt, and a drop of Balsamic vinegar as flavourings added. 

Herbert above did a bit of banging about, but no complaints, it took my mind temporarily off of the renewed howling of the ‘Hum’! Grrr! 

I then made up a pictorial post with chronically bad rhyming comments. This took hours as well. But, I do enjoy it as long as someone gets a laugh, even a smile out of them. Sent that off as well.

Inchies Wet Walk in Nottingham

On to the WordPress Reader. Then a few comments. Next on TFZer Facebooking and putting on photographs. Getting late now, the fatigue is setting in.

I’ll get the nosh sorted out. The plan is, if all works out, Rice with BBQ seasoning, and mushrooms with garden peas. I’ll see if I have any meat to go with it.

Back in a bit… I hope…

No meat in stock, hang on, I’ve got some frozen sausages in the fridge, I’ll use them! Hangeth on again, I’ve not done a top graphic and template for tomorrow yet. Better get on CorelDrawing. Dearie dearie me, no rest!

Gorrit dun at last! On wiv the fodder preparation!

A messy job, with lots of pots and pan cleaning afterwards. But, worth it, despite how weary and done-in I felt. The rice I’d flavoured with Hoisin and BBQ seasoning, added garden peas, the mushrooms (cooked with black bean sauce), and some black beans. Sausages from the freezer, a pot of lemon fool, and wallah!

I really did enjoy it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

I went to finish off the soaking saucepans, cutlery and bits with the dish.

I suppose it was inevitable, what with having such an almost Whoopsiedangeplop-free day up to now. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, a bowl of dirty washing up water ended up, over me, the sink unit and the floor! It was a grind sorting things out and mopping, during which Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna burst into tormenting life! It was not a good situation at all. I’d got Toothache Tim as well coming on, and my mood sank into a depth of… well, dejection, a strong sense that I can do nothing right, and am worthless.

Then the Thought -Storming started: Disrespect of myself, the new ailments, an inability to see how I’m going to cope, no one to talk to, no time to get things done, past indiscretions and mistakes… Oh, yes, they were all flowing into the brain-box tonight!

After I’d completed the cleaning up, I was stood leaning against the four-pronger-stick, looking out at the unwelcoming skies and sinking even further into the quagmire of negativity. The brain, I think went into neutral, in rejection of my pathetically inept thoughts perhaps? I took this photograph without really realising why. Maybe the brain told me to, in an effort for me to see how weak and confused I had suddenly become?

The mind was floating from one subject to another, none of them encouraging. Then, like turning on the light-switch, the rumbling, grumbling and stinging came from the innards. Ah, the Porcelain Throne was needed! So, I swapped walking sticks and visited the wet room. Now, my changing to the wooden stick first, was surprising, in the state my brain was, I still remembered about the times I had tripped over the four-pronger in the past when visiting the Porcelain.

I got settled on the Throne, and for the first time in several days, the evacuation did ‘Not’ start on its own! I had regained control! This made me feel a little more confident, and I brightened up a tad. Painful, yes, but these movements always are for me, and with a bit of effort, I forced things along. I was feeling rather good now! Not up to Smugness-Mode yet, but an improvement on how I felt ten-minutes ago. Then I discovered a lot of bleeding going on from the rear-end. Any worries eased, when I realised it was via Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so no panic Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was not leaking! Cleaning things up, washed, medicated with the Germolene and Anusol creams, and changed PPs, getting the night attire on at the same time.

I exited the wet room, feeling terribly guilty at me getting myself in a pickle and depressed earlier on, in the first place.

I got settled in the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. He searched for my valuables, which he found and stole.

Within seconds of turning on the TV to see what was on offer, and my woolgathering, dithering mind decided it could not recall if I had turned off the kitchen and wet room taps, cooker etc. and I just had to get up again to make sure things were okay. Which was a flipping good thing I did! I’d left the light on in the wet room, and the tap on in the kitchen! Phew!

I got back down in the grungy-beige-coloured, none-working recliner. Turned off the TV, feeling confident that feeling so weary now, I’d soon nod-off. But again, sleep was not coming quickly. But my usually aggravating peace of mind was more relaxed now, even with the frustration of not nodding off! Hehe!

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