Wednesday 29th April 2020
Gujarati: બુધવાર 29 મી એપ્રિલ 2020
014:20hrs: I lay there in the £300, dilapidated, second-hand, c1968, gut-wrenchingly horrible beige coloured, not working, rickety recliner. I stayed there for a while, uninterested in anything practical, in an unconventional, incredibly optimistic frame of mind, almost contended.
I spent a few minutes putting the world to rights… I solved the Coronavirus problem, brought about world peace. Then I legislated a few new laws; Life imprisonment for Pavement Cyclists, brought back corporal punishment for paedophiles, freed all prisoners, bar the violent ones, on the promise of their being hung drawn and quartered if they offended again. Solved the global climate problems, and gave medals and an increase in pay for all the NHS staff. Volunteer helpers were given free air travel for two years…
04:40hrs: Then I woke up. In need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. I grabbed the stick, caught my balance, and poddled off to the wet room. Where the wee-wee, for a change, came first. It was of the ELPJL (Extra-Long-Powerful-Jet-Like) fashion. Yet, it was painless! The evacuation can be described as meat-ball-like (Sorry, but it’s true).
I spotted some marks on the arm, Clopidogrel Clive inspired, or maybe Myasthenia Gravis Mavis? I rubbed some of the antiseptic creams into the area, and I felt a bit of a tender area on the other side, so 
investigated. I think this might have been my leaning against something in the hours spent and failing to get to sleep last night. Hey-ho!
I was now cheering up, mostly prompted by the helpful folks being such a boon to me this week. So inspirational, despite my recent adoption of a Grumbly-old-man mode. Tsk!
I so appreciate this food parcel, if it comes each week. I can forget all the worrying and hassle over trying to get a food order slot, in the knowledge that things will be alright. A blessed relieve that! Thank you Nottingham City Council and Homes. ♥
I made my way to the kitchen, feeling industrious and ready for the challenges of the day (I may regret saying that. Hehehe!) I spotted the shirt I’d left in the bowl to soak, and went to get the washing done, wrung and hung before even putting the kettle on. (Mmm?)
I caught the tops of the toes on my right foot underneath the cabinet door. Bending some of the overgrown nails backwards. Argh! I managed to keep down my coprolalia response to a low volume.
Well, that ensured I was in an alert and awake state now. Haha!
I got the washing finished and hung.
Then got the kettle on, and tried taking a different sized photo on the Panasonic camera, from the thick-framed, unwanted, disliked, 
light & view-blocking, kitchen window. It came out, alrightish.
Getting the camera setting back to the original setting was a farce, as I couldn’t remember which one it was on! Eventually. I tried the 4-3 ratio. We’ll see later if it was right. What a memory I have!
I got a brew of Thomsons Punjana tea made, took the medications and did the medicationalisationings.
I got on the computer and remembered to make an order for an electric can opener from Amazon. Not cheap, but I hope that RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis and Nicodemus’s dying nerve-ends) can cope using with it. I’ve not been able to use a can opener for yonks now, and have to use the ring-pull ones. Of course, with having to use delivered food now, there is no way I can tell if what I buy has ring-pull or not. The kindly donated food parcel delivered, had no pulls on any of the tins, so if it is usable for me when it arrives, at least I can use the peas, beans, soups etc. that I have amassed since the lock-down. Fingers crossed!
I made up a template for this blog and started writing it. Then it dawned on me, I had not yet finalised Tuesday Diary! What a feebleminded, lunkheaded, glaikit I really am! Hey-ho! So, I started to update the post, at last!
Huh! Foolish me, thinking I was going some diary work done! I really should have known better than even try to! It’s madness! The landline sprang to life. It was Sister Jane & Pete, worried because the blog link had not been sent to them. I was ruining their morning coffee session when they usually read it. Hahaha! The conversation was enjoyable but challenging to understand all of it, as Jane spoke to Pete in between, and I was getting confused, not knowing who she was talking to. Anyway, Jane told me I should buy a microwave. I mentioned I haven’t got the room. She told me to make it! Haha! We managed a few laughs between us, and I ended up enjoying the natter. But it cost me an awful lot of time, and I was already three hours behind the usual posting time, and I had not yet got the blog updated.
I was accompanied by the odd clang, bang and tapping noises from above. At least I know that Herbert is alright. Ferreting away at his model-making. Poor thing, he must be missing his jig-saw puzzling now the social-area has been closed down for the duration on the pandemic. He loved doing them, too.
I made brew, and decided nothing was going to stop[ me getting the updating done this time!
I was wrong! ♫ I only want to be with you ♫, chimed out from the doorbells. I got up and put some pants and a shirt on. It was only another food parcel! This time from the Government. And a good one it was, too!
The both-sided A4 letter said it would be weekly. So, I thought I would phone later, to cancel the Nottingham City Council parcel, and thank them for their efforts.
I got the things stored away, and made up two black bags and took them to the waste chute. (Arthur Itis and the toes were being a bit bothersome… well, damn painful! But I was in a grateful mood towards the volunteer’s efforts for the gift.
Back to the flat, and called Trapeze artist and lap-top dancer, ILC Warden Deana, to cancel the food from Nottingham City Homes. But the message said she is not available at the moment.
I thought I’d better get an order in; if I can see one suitable for an electric can-opener on Amazon. Hoping I can then use the tinned goods without ring-pull tabs on them. After much kerfuffling about, indecision and pusillanimity, I opted for this one.
I’m not sure or confident if I’ll manage to cope using it. Janet tells me it is easy. But with the Colin Cramps, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Nicodemus’s unreliable neurotransmitters, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun and Neuropathic Nigel to cope with, people can’t understand or believe the difficulties I have in doing everyday things. Even I can’t at times. Hahaha!
Great balls of fire! I got carried away and out of kilt there! I’ve still not updated the Tuesday post! What a lamentably pathetic, neglectable, nitwit I am! I’ll do it now!
For crying out loud! The landline lit and rang forth again! It was the Cardiac Unit, calling for someone of another name? I had to go all through my personal details to convince them I was me! The caller asked for someone with the surname Chamberlain, I think it was. Ah, well, it was reassuring that others can get things wrong as well!
I tried to get the updating done, seven hours later than usual. Botherations and blasticulisations! Ah, well, I’ll get on with…
Well, that cost me a couple of hours or more. With the link sent off, the WordPress Reading, then TFZer Facebooking I’d used up a total of four more hours of the day!
I rang Jane, to make sure she’s received the link to the post. I found out I was not to order any more food. Still got to buy a microwave, and must cut down on doing things to give me more time for the blog. Thanks, Jane. Humph!
At long last, I got back on CorelDrawing. Well, I managed to get two done. better than none.
Got the nosh started. Lamb burgers, boiled spuds, tomatoes, sugar snap peas, and all prepared and served up.
A splash of Hoisin sauce on the halved spuds. All acceptable. The lamb burgers made a nice change, but they were not as good as the beefburgers. Flavour rating: 7.5/10.
Did the washing up, moved the handwashing, and got settled, determined to get some good sleep in if I could.
Ah, well, you can’t win ’em all!
04:50hrs: I woke, and within seconds of attempting to encourage my brain to join me in activating, the need for a wee-wee appeared. I removed my overly-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-foul beige coloured, none-working rickety recliner; and limped, literally, to the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and got two shocks at the same time, no, three actually! Tsk! 
As I began to appreciate the lack of much bother from Duodenal Donald and conceded that the toenails and Arthur Itis were going to be today’s top-dog ailments. (They gave it away by being so painful, Hehe!) 
I went to the wet room, taking care not to stub the overly-long-nailed toes. I washed things up, put the jammie-bottoms in the bucket to soak, and had a stand-up wash and shave. Again surprises, Nicodemus’s visit ended, (It’s going to be a start-stop day methinks). And hardly any dropsies at all! Just the razor (2), and the 
toothpaste! It was a confusing start to the day. With merit points, and the usual Whoopsiedangleplops.It looked like the reactions to the Clopidogrel is returning again on both legs and feet.
Then the intercom rang and lit up. It was the Iceland delivery that had arrived. The same chap as yesterday, I think. I pointed out the can pf G & T the side for him in thanks. Off he trotted, and I got the bags indoors, and to the kitchen. 
A lot of stuff to find room for again. Amongst them were some new salt & vinegar flavoured Fish Chunks, if all goes well today, I plan to have some of these, with potatoes, tomatoes and sugar snap peas. That’s the plan anyway. Getting the things away was a battle and-a-half! They had sent some of the Naturally Imperfect chips as well, so I made a point of making room for them in the freezer, at the cost of dishing some bits to make room for them. 
I got some of the potatoes in the sizeable crock-pot cooking. A bit of sea salt and vinegar added.
I cleaned it up alright but getting my stomach-dominated bulk back up on my feet, was no easy feat! Gawd knows how long it took me. I ended up crawling on my knees to the side counter, (it’s easier to grab hold of) and hauled myself up, on the third attempt, and much silent howling and cursing, back into a semi-perpendicular position. 
I tried to look on the bright side, but it was difficult with the tears running from the eyes… only joking! 
I made a brew and checked the potatoes in the big slow-cooker. They were still rock-hard! A shame that. I made sure they were on the high setting.
Maybe today, I can get some graphic done on CorelDraw for the posts? 
She took it to deliver to a homeless shelter charity who care for street sleepers. I thanked her for her kindness, and off she flew. Bless her cotton socks! 
They even supplied a mass of paperwork with them. Some coronavirus advice, and must and mustn’t doe’s check-list. 
I went to check on the spuds progress. Coming on alright. I got the thighs on the plate and added tomatoes, a Marmite cheese medallion and silverskin onions. The slow-cooker cooked potatoes were great tasting, I added some splashes of Hoisin sauce on them. A small can of garden peas as well. The orange kindly donated on my food parcel was almost juiceless. The fowl were not very flavoursome at all. Overall the meal as good, all the same. The Muller light lemon yoghourt and the Clementine drink were lip-smacking good, as usual. An 8.8/10 for Taste rating! 
I was gobsmacked at the evacuation. It was all over in a couple of minutes, and nowhere near as bloody as yesterday. It’s still a bit painful mind. Well-pleased with this start to the day, I took a photo of the pale pins (legs) but found that Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were on strike again, and this time the shaking and lack of sense of touch contact, were minuscule. Hence, the picture was blurry, not a good one! It seemed like and felt to me, that they might be just coming back on-line. 
As I made my way, cursing the pain from the toenails, into the kitchen, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) began, what was to be a day-long session of giving me and my knees a lot of grief! However, Duodenal Donald, although still with me, was vastly less bothersome. Swings and roundabouts? 
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. Got the medications out and taken, and spent a few moments ponderisationing on the day’s expectancies. I find myself in a q
The mobile phone rang out, it was on well, and genuinely ancient, 1965 Hopewells E-Plan, worn, pot-marked, desk close to me, and the noise made me jump. Hehehe
Shame about the changes, no Imperfect Chips in stock, my favourites as well, am I lucky or what? Tsk! 
I didn’t get far, I forgot about the ablutions, so tended to them. Well, they went well for a change again! The dropsies added up to only four! Brilliant! The toothbrush, the soap, the showerhead and the body spray can. I did well there! No, knocking anything over or off of owt, no toe-stubbings either! Smugeth Mode Engaged!
The old ankle ulcer was prominent again and developed a gorgeous light brown colour instead of its usual blue-red shade. The veins were bulging a tad.
inside. 
fodder about to take this photo of them all. As I began to put the items away, the first thing that came to mind was tonight’s nosh. I decided to try the pork and caramelised sausages, and make some imitation hot dogs with the brown wholemeal deli rolls delivered.
I was not confident that I would like them that much. Iceland had a habit of producing great things, like the ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips, and their quarter-pounder beefburgers, both great! But I’m afraid that they do sell items that are horrible as well. Like their so-called fresh tomatoes, own label pork pies etc., so what these rolls and sausages will be like, I’ll find out later. I got around to checking the stuff as I put it in the fridge, and oh, dearie me! 
Miserable now, self-pitying and depressed, all that missed opportunities with so many interruptions that stole away a rare opportunity for me to get some graphics done while the nerve-ends were working, lost! 
I got on the meal cooking. Ah, well, that’s Inchcock’s luck all over. Tsk! 
Sweet Morpheous resisted, again! 
03:50hrs: I didn’t wake up – because I didn’t get to sleep. I just grumpily, cantankerously decided to reluctantly get up, mainly because I needed a wee-wee. 
I quickly got out of the £300 second-hand, rickety recliner, gained my momentum, picked up the four-pronged walking stick, and made for the wet room. Within two paces I was in pain from the toe I stubbed last night! Argh! It’s not going to get any better until I can get the toenails cut somehow, but have no idea how I can get them done in the current lock-in? I’m due for a lot of slowly increasing suffering now. And have 12 weeks of enforced hibernation to get through before I can even think of getting out to the clinic. Gawd, I’m in a rotten mood, already!
Instantly, with no warning twitches from the right knee or ankle (a rarity), a Neuropathic Schuhplattler right leg dance, kicked off! It lasted a while this one, too. But the more surprising fact. As I leant forward to the nearest solid object to grab onto, to keep my balance and not topple-over, the toilet cistern, the camera which was in the right hand, took this picture on the right as I fell forwards. Yet the photo came out great? 
Back to the flat and got Josie’s nosh done. A little earlier than usual, but I took it to her door and pressed the bells. No answer. Oh, dear! I nipped back in the flat and covered the plate with foil to hopefully keep it warm for a while, and put the Limoncello back in the fridge to keep that cold. 
I made up a bottle of spring water and lemon cordial mix.
02:45hrs: I woke up, and stirred with a certain reluctance. Brought about by my anxiety of what the next mistake, error, memory lapse, blank-spell or tumble will bring forth with it.
Determined not to get uptight and despondent like the last two days, I deliberated and brain-stormed in search of some positives from the situation. I surprised myself in how many I came up with. Most of the deformed, or contrived, but they made me feel a bit better, just for thinking of the silliness in most of them:
Into the kitchen, and took the medications, guzzled a load of the inefficacious, unfructuous, otiose Peptac to try to calm Duodenal Donald down a bit. Made a brew and opened the window to see what the odd noise was, found no cause for it, and took a photo of the morning view of the twinkling Nottingham lights.
I then had a check on the WordPress comments. Then started this blog going. 
Sister Jane and Brother in Law Pete sent me a photograph of their latest just received freebie box of fodder. (Right one doctored by yours truly, to show what they really meant. Hahaha!)
Simple enough meal. The last of my low-fat, ‘Naturally Imperfect’ oven chips were crispy and not fatty at all. The burgers were grand. The last of the piccolo tomatoes were wonderful, a Marmite and plain cheese disc were okay. 
Then settled down to watch some TV, with a certainty that sleep would surely come early tonight, after all, I was feeling mentally drained. AS long as the Thought-Storms didn’t kick-off. 
A different version of Inchcock returned to his £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, c1968, not-working rickety recliner. A sad, grumpy thing, who became sadderer, when sleep refused to come, he didn’t even have any nodding-offs. 
05:30hrs: Got up. Tired and weary still.
Greeted by even more mail that had been delivered, and demanded attention and replies to.
I fell head over heels in the kitchen, thanks to Neuropathy Nigel’s nerve ends failing in the leg this time! Took a while to sort my self out, shook up a bit. Made tea had a sit-down but still kept reading official letters, failing to fully understand them of course. Surprised with the instructions that I must stay indoors for twelve-weeks minimum from date of the letter. 
I spent many an hour going back to try and sort out the paperwork. But got nowhere with it. Other than to confuse my self even more. 
I tried a few times to make sense of, and understand all the bumf in the NHS letter, and the none recognition of my NHS number which is preventing me getting any food parcels, or going on the At Risk register. 
The nosh, was absolutely grand! These oddly named ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’, are tasty but not fatty at all. The braised beef in onion gravy, was enough to stop me bothering ordering any again, tiny and not tasty! The sugar snap peas, perfect! Tomatoes tasty! The cheeses were alright. The apple, mushy, dry and bland with a tough skin. The plain yoghourt was thin, but passable with maple syrup stirred into it. A 6/10 rating.
04:00hrs: Woke up wanting a wee-wee. Staggered up to my feet, and over to the bucket, took a WUT (Weak-Unwilling-Trickling) wee-wee. It took me a while, unwilling to start and pass as it was, it also seemed reluctant to stop as well. 
The mushrooms were put in the slow cooker on a low setting.
I had to hurry along a bit, as I was scared of missing the log-on time for the Ingeus, Zoom session. The legs looked a little pale, a contrast to how I felt, black and depressed, but couldn’t help it – it just persisted. 
I knocked a lot of things off of the floor cabinet and proceeded to take some skin off of my knuckles, bang my head a few times, and dropped the picker-upperer while trying to retrieve the items. Ashamedly, I was getting angrier with myself, and more wound-up all the time! Duodenal Donald was getting annoyed with me, as well! 
I put in the password as sent me by Ingeus and saved, with almost semi-confidence, I thought this is it, I’m getting online at last. Pillock! 
This did not last for too long, mind. Somehow or other, after a period of self-analysis, and self-criticism, I fought off much of the blackness. By resigning to the fact that I no longer wanted to be put through the torment of Ingeus’s lack of support or cold responses, and the vagaries of the Zoom sight. 
I looked into what would be a good nosh menu. I moved the mushrooms from the slow cooker to the saucepan and put some petit pois in, to cook for three minutes.
Off to the kitchen again. I made sure I had some and knew where it was stored, Maple Syrup to flavour the plain yoghourt with for later. I turned of the mushroom and peas heat.
then the evening tablets, and olive oiled the eardrums. 
Well, it’s now four hours beyond my usual head-down time.
Bless him or her! 
my condition?
Maybe, with the millions of folks at home, there was more of a demand for the lines? 
I started to watch a Kitchen Nightmare episode I’d not seen before, in between expelling oohs and argh’s in response to Donald’s refreshed activities
I made a brew, took the medications and had a look for the latest (Yesterdays only found, too early for today). 
Handwashing was done, rung and hung.
Whatta-a-farce! It suited this Klutz, come farceur Inchcock down to the ground, ideally! But at least the ablutions went differently than usual
Nothing changed. 
I washed and medicated certain delicate areas after the visit to the Throne. 
I sorted the meal prepping. Got the lamb in the oven, they are thin slices so only need twenty minutes to cook. Checked the mushrooms were cooked and added them to the can of curried beans, with a splash of hickory. By then, the meal was ready to be served up. Smashing! Taste rating, 7/10. 
04:25hrs: I woke up, with what I thought was perhaps the most urgent ever need for a wee-wee! I sort of rolled out of the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968 rickety recliner, and fell forwards to the sound of a thud-thud, as the poor old knees hit the deck, and oaths flowed, and panic gripped me! The pain was almost ignored, in my desperate efforts to get to the bucket in time! 
I picked up the clock I dropped into the WC yesterday, off of the shower chair. And dropped it again! It’s now in a few more pieces. Well, Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations! With a double Tsk!, thrown in! 
I decided before starting on the computer, to get some cleaning up done. Smug-Mode Adopted! I made a start by doing the handwashing, not a lot, but needed all the same.
I used the unexpectedly delivered from Morrisons, Comfort fabric conditioner. The bottle indicated it was Intense. Which is possibly why I ordered it, all of six weeks ago!
not give it away, it wouldn’t be fair on anyone to do that and have their clothes stinking of it! No wonder it was on Special Offer!
Then the real challenge. The stumper, the pitfall or bugaboo! The nerve-testing, pain-giving task of cleaning the electric fire surround! I purposely did it now, then if I could not get back up off of the floor again, at least the nurse might be coming shortly and might rescue me, as Nurse Hristina had to do a fortnight ago! I didn’t do a good job of it, but at least it looked better than before.
I got on with updating this blog to here, then went on the TFZer Facebooking to catch up. Then on the WordPress Reader section. 
Had cracking Dennis Dizzy spell while I was doing this. 
I’ll see how it goes when I try to get on in the morning.
Got a rather special meal. Sweet potato fritters, tomatoes, skewer thingamajigs, and turkey lumps. A wholemeal cob, lemon yoghourt and a can of the Clementine juice. 
onto the airer. Then went to the wet room to try to pass water (formally know as ‘have a wee-wee’), but only managed a hurtful trickle. Had a wash and brush-up.
ot the headphones on and watched the end of the preceding programme. 
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced! 
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet). 
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning. 
