Inchcockski – Saturday 30th May 2020: I Whinged, whinged and whinged today. Sorry!

May30

Saturday 30th May 2020

Dutch: Zaterdag 30 Mei 2020

02:30hrs: I woke, the brain caught me up, and the sound of the annoying ‘Hum’ all around was a bit louder than of late – but, no time for that – Wee-wee-William was wanting to be freed!

Getting my unhealthy, aged, gargantuan oversized-stomached decrepit, body from the recliner and onto my feet, was no easy matter this morning.  But apart from Arthur Itis’s knees, the overgrown toenails, the ankle ulcer, the leg ulcer, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Anne Gyna, there was little bothering. Hehehe!

I limped over to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and painfully proceeded with passing a WSSUGG (Weak-Squirty-Spraying-Uncontrollable-Greeny-Grey) wee-wee! It still confuses me, how overnight, I cannot remember struggling out of the recliner at all, let alone hobbling over to the bucket or and using it, but it was half-filled? Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?

As I entered the kitchen, I thought I’d photograph the view of the new, unwanted, thick-framed, unliked, letting-rain-in, designed by a nasty, foul, cruel photographers-hating designer. That has been deliberately modelled so that no handicapped or elderly camera-user can take a photograph of Chestnut Walk below, without risking life and limb to climb the stepladder to see what he is shooting. Inevitably causing injury, upsetting Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna, Dizzy Dennis, or Back Pain Brenda. Toe-stubbing and falling off of the ladder is something that will no doubt please the architect or whatever Satanistic nerd, who planned the layout. But it doesn’t bother me! I fear a niggly-period just might be coming on, sorry.

Photographed Today!

I got the kettle on. The pot is near the air-vent on the wall that kept falling off, and the wind howling in when I first arrived at the flat. (See Photo right!) A fitter came to have a look at it (in 2016, I think) and booked me in for call two-months later for someone to tackle the problem. A young man arrived as planned to tell me it has been cancelled due to an emergency. ‘Fair enough’, I said, ‘can’t be helped’. I got a letter a week later rebooking the job, for a date three weeks later. A different young man arrived, had a look and soon set about with his foam filler, and plugged the hole. I thanked him, and off he shot, and I went shopping. But it doesn’t bother me!

On my return, I found it just like it is now (Only whiter). WArden Dean called them for me to explain, and I got a booking for a call four-weeks later. A man arrived, agreed it was terrible and needed doing, especially as the foam had covered the electric socket and gone rock-hard. ‘I’ll get it booked in for you’. ‘Thanks, mate’. ‘No problem!’ But it doesn’t bother me!

All this was before I got the ankle and leg ulcers. Then got diagnosed with the Peripheral Neuropathy, (dying nerve-ends). Had to use the walking stick and/or the walker-guide. But it doesn’t bother me!

Then they rushed me into the hospital when I collapsed in the recliner, nothing found wrong? Then weeks later, I had the stroke! Spent six weeks in the stroke ward, then another four in a care home. Got back here, the right ankle giving way, dropping stuff, walking into things, collapsing with dizzies and Anne Gyna was confirmed as a new ailment for me. Then diagnosed as diabetic. But it doesn’t bother me!

The plastic cover still drops off now and then. The socket flashes with static. But no rush, I’ll be a goner soon, then it will be easier for them to mend things when I’m not in the way. ready for the next tenant. But it doesn’t bother me!

And now, five years later, I’ve given up all hope of getting an appointment to get the kitchen made-safe and cleaned up, and I am in no state to do it myself. But it doesn’t bother me!

Touch of self-pity and frustration crept in there big time, sorry again!

Made the brew, did the medicalisationing. The sys had crept back up a bit. The pulse, too, but I think it’s within the range. But it doesn’t bother me!

Got Computer Cameron on, and made a needed graphic. Then started on updating the Friday blog. Thins went reasonable well, ailment-wise!

Got it completed and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the links. Pinterested a while. Had a long, but enjoyable bash on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking’s. Visited the WordPress Reader section. Then, off to get the ablutions done.

Farcicalisation comes to mind. It was to be just a stand-up job, else I might miss the Iceland delivery (A farce in itself, tell you about further on) and it was too early to use the shower anyway. But as you will see, things didn’t go according to plan!

The first thing, I found, was that I needed the Porcelain Throne to be utilised! Boy, had Constipation Konrad made a comeback! Agano would not be too a severe word to describe what I went through, or rather, what went through me! Hahaha! I thought it was going to be one of those grinding marathon sessions again, I got the crossword book out. But things fooled me, all of a sudden, things moved of their own accord… I had visions of my body being found, split into two halves! Blimus, the most hurtful evacuations ever! But it doesn’t bother me!

Silver-Lining Search Result: At least if I could rush the cleaning up, I could still have time to sort the black backs to the chute before the Iceland van arrived. The feet didn’t look too bad, but the discomfort was!

The gums were bleeding, I got a bit too enthusiastic in my rushing the brushing. Tsk! The dropsies weren’t too bad, mind. The razors had a few flying off trips. The three shaving cuts were spread about. When I tried to cut the hairs behind the ear lobes, one nick on each side, and when I caught one, yes, caught one razor, as it shot out of my other hand, I sliced a tiny bit of of my finger end. Damned bad luck at the end, I dried, deodoranted and dressed, and Dizzy Dennis paid me a call, as I was going through the door, clouting my right shoulder on the frame.

Now, this has kicked Shuddering Shoulder Shirley into action! Which is currently making typing a bit of a task. But it doesn’t bother me! I’m fed-up listening to myself moaning. A closer look at the toes and feet in the front room showed that the ulcer had died down a lot, far less inflamed. The nails need attention, I must ask Deana if she can ring the clinic for me on Monday.

I got the waste bags made up, and took the three to the waste chute on the walker-guide trolley. Both lifts are now working as well. Although not in use.

Back to Cameron, and on WordPressing. Half-an-hour or so later, the Intercom rang. I limped to the panel, and it was not working! I got the feeling, that if I was to snuff-it soon, the other tenants might hold a long-distance party… I feel sure my abysmal luck is spreading throughout the fabric of the building! What next is going to break-down?

It was the Iceland driver, bless him, he kept trying to ring, but there was no response to the accept button, and the screen did not show anything or any voices heard. I gt a jacket on, to rush down (rush? hahaha! I am a fool!). But the door chimed out, someone had let the bloke in. He told me that a colleague of his could not get in earlier either! As I said, what next? The lad left the stuff near the door and shot off, he didn’t look too happy, and I don’t blame him.

The freezer and fridge were chockablock now! I got some of the Jersey Royal new potatoes in the slow-cooker, added some Hickory flavouring.

Then back on Cameron, starting this post off. After three hours or so, and the same amount of SFRTFC (Strong-Forceful-Reluctant-To-Finish-Cloudy) wee-wees, I got one of the Rocket Sours iced lollies from the freezer, and started to suck it vigorously! Lovely-jubbly! No taste to it mind, but it was cold and fizzy, highly acceptable! If this heat stays with us, I can’t see these lollies lasting long. Hehe!

The thermometer gave a reading of 34c indoors. I’m sure it must have been hotter outside. I took what was left of the sucker with me out into the balcony, which I thought was a good idea, to open a window and take some shots of the divine weather…

I went arse-over-tip on the first step over the raised door gliders! And what a kerfuffle!

I put my hands out in front of me to lessen the fast-arriving im[act with the wooden slated running boards… the iced lollipop disappeared the slats, never to be seen again! I instinctively tried to grab between the gaps, and I got a splinter in the same finger I’d sliced with the razor earlier… But it didn’t bother me!

Then, the Herculean task of getting back up again, which was handicapped by my trousers falling down! You couldn’t make it up! I was more bothered about anyone seeing me in this pickle than the pains I was in! Gluglegnatsworth!

Stil on my aching stinging knees, I crawled out of view back into the flat. What are the odds of someone seeing this little contretemps from another balcony? I cringed at the thought!  But it doesn’t bother me!

I got myself sorted out. Getting back on my feet awkwardly, and banging the right knee and stubbing a toe! Cribblebogangonies! But it didn’t bother me!

It seemed that the braces had become unclipped during the tumble. I bravely tried to look nonchalant, and got the camera and wandered (Carefully!), back out to the balcony. I got the camera and scanned all the balcony’s in view, but didn’t see anyone in their p[od. (Fingers crossed) I took some shots of the folks below.

I must have caught the selector-wheel, cause one came out a different size and shape than the other? This dog above on the left is the one I names ‘Yappy’. His bark could be heard by me, all the way up here on the 12th-floor, and without my hearing aids in! I took a picture of the housing straight ahead. It looked almost like a painting? But the sunshine of strong in reality, but not in the resulting photo?

I took a photo of the puff clouds, and wallowed in the sunshine, leaning against the sharp edges on the balcony windows, and began to feel someone settled, almost at peace with the world. The warmth, the lack of breeze, and sounds of dogs and kids, but no vehicles… It felt so good to just relax…

Of course, the landline burst into sounds and flashes! No blooming rest for the wicked! I got back in, still moving wearily, and it was Sister Jane on the line. They (The Hospital) were keeping Pete in, ready for another biopsy by a specialist on Tuesday I think she said.

He’s got a television supplied and a laptop, they bring him newspapers when he wants one, has a choice of meals and is in a sideward with just two beds! But, it doesn’t bother me! In the stroke ward, it was packed solid with patients, some on trolleys, often I didn’t get a meal at all, the night staff always came and opened the window wide, which was right next to my bed, and they threw me out three weeks too early cause they needed the bed for an emergency. The ambulance staff threw me in a wheelchair, and left some of my stuff behind, but took some belonging to the chap in the next bed with me! I got put in a care home, full of patients who were not fully with it. Even there, one day, I didn’t get fed! Attempted stabbing, fights, I had to make a witness statement to the police… But it didn’t bother me! I’m not jealous, oh, no!

Jesting aside, (Not that the above incidents are not genuine!) I bet poor old Pete is bored rigid in hospital. His arm is deflating, so he even has no pains to distract. He’s always been an active bloke and is not too keen on medical institutions. I wonder if I dare nip out to see him? No, I’d better not. Knowing my luck the trousers would drop down in the sideward. Hahaha!

Nosh time. Bit of a heavy load, but I ate it all up. Not that it was very good, though. The garden peas were alright. Taste Rating: 5/10.

Got the pots pans and me washed up.

I got down earlier than ever, to watch some TV, with the aim of nodding off and getting caught up with some sleep.

Fat Chance! The ticker was racing away, the Thought Storms attacked, and after a few hours of failing to get to sleep, I couldn’t even manage any nod-off moments, plenty of rising for a wee-wee episode, mind. I decided to get back up and get Computer Cameron going to update this blog. And of course, escape the thought-storms.

Well, pickle my walnuts! My luck-status was confirmed!

So many things have bought injustices, jealousies and failures on my behalf today, I’m sick of my own whinging! All the lights were out on the Virgin box. I went through the usual procedures; pressed the reset button – Nope! Turned of the computer and rebooted – Nope! Turned off the power to everything, restarted computer and the Liberty-Global Virgin Media box, Nope! Things looked bleak!

I went for a drink of orange juice, the evening horizon looked worthy of photographicalisationing, so I did! For some reason, this shot reminded me of a Clint Eastwood Italian Western.

Still no Liberty-Global Virgin Media, but the box was actually now flashing two lights!

I went on to CorelDraw, and made up a Coronavirus Humour Graphic. This took about an hour to get done. Hello, three lights on Liberty-Global Virgin Media box now, things are looking up! I saved the graphic to the hard drive for later use and had another wee-wee (The orange tint was back).

Aha, four of the five Liberty-Global Virgin Media lights on now. So, I tried again to access the web… Great! I’m in! Slow going, but still!

I found the latest figures for Nottingham. These facts were being published regularly, but now they are hidden in sub-texts and different sections. Likely a Government ploy, as the figures are still rising overall, but now, in Nottingham anyway, more deaths in care homes, more than in Hospitals for the first time. Huh, I’m a  cheer-chappie today, ain’t I?


Got on with the updating of this blog again. Then went back on CorelDraw to see if I could find inspiration for more graphics to use.

Harrumph! I give up trying to sleep cause I just can’t do it, and now I find myself falling asleep at the computer!

I went on Facebooking for a while.

I’d better get this finished off, checked and posted.

By Inchie

73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!

4 comments

  1. Doug Thomas – Alliance, NE – I retired from nearly 36 years in a factory that produces hydraulic and industrial hoses. That is the short of it. The most interesting thing I've done is serve in the US Army as a motion picture photographer. I was stationed in then-West Germany in Kaiserslautern, Kleber Kaserne, in the 69th Signal Company (Photo). I was sent all over western Europe filming military exercises and other less interesting things. This enabled me to become a "bier kenner", someone knowledgeable about beer. Haw! I was much younger then, and could handle the wear and tear. The most interesting thing that happened to me happened in 1980, the first day of the new year: I spotted a rara avis in my backyard. A phainopepla, a member of the silky flycatcher family! It stayed around for two months, long enough for me to photograph it through a garage window not more than 2m from a birdbath to which it came each day. The photos, sent to the state ornithological organization and their rare bird report committee, established me as the first and only person to have seen this particular bird in my state. Records for my state go back to Lewis and Clarke's western expedition, so that gives you the context and perspective through which other birders view my record. You should too! It was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. It lead to a decade of uninterrupted bliss, tracking down birds in the field with other people of a feather. The worst thing that happened to me is called Wegener's granulomatosis. Oh dear! This is where it becomes difficult! WG is a form of vasculitis that you have for life once it develops. It has no known cause, though scientists work as I write to try to determine why it occurs. My story is long and I am tired: More details later! It is a fatal disease without proper care. With proper care, people still can die! One last detail: a weggie (pronounced "wegg-ee"), is a person with Wegener's granulomatosis. It is an Australian construction, to the best of my knowledge, and suits me better than being known in perpetuity as a "WG patient". In 2016, a Wegener's flare mostly wiped out what kidney function I still had, and I went through a two month process of hospitalization and rehabilitation before I could return home to my two cats, Andy and Dougy. My neighbors across the lane took care of them while i was gone, with a childhood friend who substituted for my neighbors when they had to be out of town. The major change brought about by the flare: I now am on dialysis three times a week. Fortunately for me, my local general hospital has a very modern, well staffed dialysis unit. With a nurse-to-patient ratio of nearly one-one, it is the best of five dialysis sites I've been in. The recliners are even heated! Since these units are typically kept ice berg cold, you can see I feel like I am in heaven! (Well, not yet, but you get the idea!)
    Doug Thomas says:

    A nightmare fall: which is worse? Lolly between the slats; re-injured digit; trousers down?

    1. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
      Inchcock says:

      Hahaha! Yes, Doug, things have been going a little pear-shaped lately.
      But I still hope for an improvement in the Whopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpa areas.
      Getting some sleep would be nice, too.
      Cheerski, Sir..

      1. Doug Thomas – Alliance, NE – I retired from nearly 36 years in a factory that produces hydraulic and industrial hoses. That is the short of it. The most interesting thing I've done is serve in the US Army as a motion picture photographer. I was stationed in then-West Germany in Kaiserslautern, Kleber Kaserne, in the 69th Signal Company (Photo). I was sent all over western Europe filming military exercises and other less interesting things. This enabled me to become a "bier kenner", someone knowledgeable about beer. Haw! I was much younger then, and could handle the wear and tear. The most interesting thing that happened to me happened in 1980, the first day of the new year: I spotted a rara avis in my backyard. A phainopepla, a member of the silky flycatcher family! It stayed around for two months, long enough for me to photograph it through a garage window not more than 2m from a birdbath to which it came each day. The photos, sent to the state ornithological organization and their rare bird report committee, established me as the first and only person to have seen this particular bird in my state. Records for my state go back to Lewis and Clarke's western expedition, so that gives you the context and perspective through which other birders view my record. You should too! It was a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence. It lead to a decade of uninterrupted bliss, tracking down birds in the field with other people of a feather. The worst thing that happened to me is called Wegener's granulomatosis. Oh dear! This is where it becomes difficult! WG is a form of vasculitis that you have for life once it develops. It has no known cause, though scientists work as I write to try to determine why it occurs. My story is long and I am tired: More details later! It is a fatal disease without proper care. With proper care, people still can die! One last detail: a weggie (pronounced "wegg-ee"), is a person with Wegener's granulomatosis. It is an Australian construction, to the best of my knowledge, and suits me better than being known in perpetuity as a "WG patient". In 2016, a Wegener's flare mostly wiped out what kidney function I still had, and I went through a two month process of hospitalization and rehabilitation before I could return home to my two cats, Andy and Dougy. My neighbors across the lane took care of them while i was gone, with a childhood friend who substituted for my neighbors when they had to be out of town. The major change brought about by the flare: I now am on dialysis three times a week. Fortunately for me, my local general hospital has a very modern, well staffed dialysis unit. With a nurse-to-patient ratio of nearly one-one, it is the best of five dialysis sites I've been in. The recliners are even heated! Since these units are typically kept ice berg cold, you can see I feel like I am in heaven! (Well, not yet, but you get the idea!)
        Doug Thomas says:

        I got several hours yesterday in the late afternoon while sitting in a chair watching television.

      2. Inchie – Nottingham. UK. – 73 years of age, pretty ugly, short, bald, pot-bellied, in ill health. Decaying physically and morally. Metal ticker, Duodenal Donald, Saccades-Sandra, Arthur Rheumatoid Itis, Hernia Henry, Hard of Hearing Hank, Bad eyesight Boris, Reflux Roger, Peripheral Neuropathy, Nerve Neurotransmitters Not-working Wendy, Bladder Cancer Chris, Stuttering Sandra, Haemorrhoid Harold, Shaking Shaun, Dizzy Dennis... there are others, but I've tired myself out, now! Hehehe! Oh, then I had a stroke! Now awaiting Cataract & Glaucoma operations. Tsk! Failures, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops are my Forte... Hehehe! I love making folk smile when I can. TTFNski!
        Inchcock says:

        Sounds just like me, Doug! Haha!

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