Inchcock Today – Thursday 13th August 2020: A conflicting, nettlesome, ataraxia-needing, sort of day!

TFZer Janet at the Cool-It-Cabin – I like her style!

Thursday 13th August 2020

Igbo: Tọzdee 13th Ọgọst 2020

05:30hrs: I woke in urgent need of a wee-wee. Disentangled my weary, overweight, short, plump, over-bellied body from the £300, second-to-fifth-hand, c1968 recliner. Caught my balance, grabbed the four-pronged metal walking stick, and to the overnight emergency grey plastic bucket. That I found to be rather full, but could not recall using it at all? As Tom Jones sang, “♫ It’s not unusual! ♫”.

The style of the release was of the PSC (Powerful-but-Sprinkly-Colourless) mode. The MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) lasted far longer than usual. I took the bucket to get it cleaned and sanitised. But when I got in the kitchen with in to store it away until later, I found myself needing to use it again! What’s the word, if there is one, for wee-weeing frequently? I thought I knew it, but I can’t recall… Ah, yes, I can! Urinary tract infection (UTI). I think I’ve got it coming back again, maybe, perhaps.

I think you can take it, that up until 16:00hrs, I had about twelve or more wee-wees, save my time typing dunnit? Hahaha!

I did the Health Checks, with the old sphygmomanometer SYS readings showing a slight increase above the expected of 157.

I couldn’t get either of thermometers to work at all? Ah, well! Took the morning medications, remembered to take the Furesomide.

Checked the Enoxaparin syringe to make sure this one wasn’t damaged, and then proceeded to inject myself in the tummy. No problems at all.

Updated the Nottingham City Care sheets in the folder. Then I checked another of the syringes, that was fine, and left it out to use tonight. Put the used one in the tellow… or yellow sharps box.

Then got the kettle on. The radio advised us of a coming Red Warning rainy, stormy period. No signs of it yet, the sunshine was breaking through as I got the tea, a Morrison’s Extra Strong Assam, made, and off to the computer. Not I was not feeling too good either at that moment. I was tempted to adopt a Smug-Mode, but after the last two daymares, I thought it best not to!

I took three shots of the morning view, but the Nikon was getting low on battery.

The photos were taken from the left, centre and to the right. The sun seems to have given up, and a mist is falling?

I got on the internet and within two minutes… it happened again!

So I did some work on CorelDrawing until the service returned. But Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters both came from nowhere, giving me the hassle. And it became impossible to control the mouse. Thanks to the jerking all over the place, I ended up with pop-up screens appearing that I had no idea what they were, or meant?

In fact, it took me a lot of guesswork, crossed-fingers and praying to even get CorelDraw into a condition that would let me close-it! Then when I did get to shut it down, it wouldn’t open again!

Herbert was knocking and banging again.

I turned everything off, including the Libert-Global Virgin Meda box, and started afresh, but I was worried that I’d cocked something up altogether! It booted up very slowly and reluctantly, and the internet was still down!

I was testing out CorelDraw, that opened this time, scared stiff it would not work, and even more frightened to use it while the ailments were like they were.

And the landline burst into life: It as my beloved Vampire Nurse, Hristina, telling me she would be here in the morning, twixt ten and twelve o’clock, to do another Warfarin blood test for me. I thanked her, then got back to the computing.

Herbert was knocking and banging again.

My first job was to add her calling to the Google Calendar, while I thought of it. I noted I had a Sainsbury order in for Saturday? When I did that, is another of 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 annoy and scare the energumenist Inchcock’ mission?

The total time supposedly working on the computer, was now over five hours! Thankfully, the internet was back on of its own accord.

Things seemed reasonable with everything, then, the Norton thing flashed! I opened it and was informed that two things need attention. So I pressed the button to do so. Now I have been on the computer for over six hours, and haven’t even started on yesterday’s blog updating.

I was beginning to get myself all worked up again! Surely not another day like the last two? The landline chirped into life, it was Sister Jane, saying they had not received the link yet. I explained the mess I was in and apologised.

Then with hopes and touching on wood, as Herbert was knocking again, I made a start on the updating. Which took even longer, a Shirley and Nicodemus had been joined by Dizzy Dennis! Now I was so frustrated and angry when Duodenal Donald started stabbing at me! It was hard enough coping with lack of touch-sensations, and the jumping jerking shoulder, no the chest pains started as well!

Somehow I struggled through and got the blog finished and posted off, went on Facebooking, then went on the WordPress reader. I dread to think how many mistakes I must have missed.

I stopped for a breather, and some big gulps of the useless, Peptac medicine, and gobbled few more painkillers. I knew I was getting hot and bothered.

I made a start on this blog. Then realised it was an hour past my usual head-down time! More precious time lost! Everything takes longer as time passes, and with all the intrusions, Whoopsies and Accifauxpas continuing, along with my health suffering, I’d better stop now, and get some chips thrown in the oven and make a meal of sorts. I’ll have to catch up in the morning.

Back later, I hope.

I’m back! Found a burst of enthusiasm, and piled a plate with the last of the seasoned fries, tomatoes, red grapes, sliced apple, a mini apple pie, two slices of sourdough thick sliced bread, two pots of dessert, strawberry and lemon and the medications.

I’ve left the Sainsbury’s cooked bacon until last, in hopes of finding the perfect scathing descriptions I can think of, most suiting to the flavour, or lack of flavour of the bacon! Pale, fatty, greasy, soft, mushy, bland, insipid, and sickeningly puke-prompting taste! I’ll not order any more of these! Yeurgh! The tablets I took were tastier and less dangerous than this bacon! Taste-Rating, 5/10.

I got the pots washed, then did the Enoxaparin Injectionalisationing, easily enough. I remembered to check the needle to see if it was another bent and the container leaking one that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up the road from the Lidl store, had supplied, was alright.

I deposited the used needle in the yellow ‘Sharps’ bin and filled in the record log.

I settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, almost sure that sleep would come.

But, No!

I sank into a dark mood, deeper as the time passed and Sweet Morpheus denied me!

4 thoughts on “Inchcock Today – Thursday 13th August 2020: A conflicting, nettlesome, ataraxia-needing, sort of day!

  1. Herbert’s banging about again? “Sounds awful” as Marvin the depressed robot in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy would say. Between the banging, having to poke yourself and the general state of being locked up in home jail, you have every right to a dark mood. Decent enough looking food you flunked with a 5/10 score.

    • Hello there, Timothy.
      I’d love to know what he’s making, sounds like summat large.
      Thanks for undertstanding, Mon Ami.
      Not one of my luckiest weeks, so far! Hahaha!
      If had a furry with me, I could cope a lot easier!
      TTFNski, and take care.

  2. Morpheus can be very stingy when doling out the stuff that makes for a good kip. Danged thought storms do their part as well, perhaps overly misty atmospheres? Morpheus may just be true to his name — morphing into thought storms and such. Der Verwandler vielleicht.

    • A morphing Morpheus, eh? An agent for some nefarious, nasty, naughty sleep-negligentiser perhaps?
      A doppleganger? An agent provocateur, I’m going off him now!

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