Inchcocksi – Saturday 3rd October 2020: Porcelain Throne agony! Willy nilly wee-weeing. Computer problems. Argh!

TFZer Entertainment night? Hehe!

Just cause I love ’em!

Saturday 3rd October 2020

Azerbaijani: 3 Oktyabr 2020 şənbə

00:00hrs: My expergefactor, was Duodenal Donald, oh boy, was he giving me some stick! (I realised it must be due to my hassle with the computer yesterday, it really got to me, and must have encouraged Donald to kick-off); so some of the useless, inexpedient, weak, and wishy-washy, but better than nothing. Peptac antacid guzzling, is my first job – after the regulation wee-wee, of course.

When I got to the wet-room, I felt the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne. However, things in the innards department were rock solid and after an age sitting there, produced nothing but the odd spurt of wind. And after a lot of time spent cross-wording, I gave up!

At least this wee-wee was of the PBOAN (Painless-But-Orange-Almost-Normal) variety. I gave-up on the rear evacuation, washed the hands, sanitised the touch areas, and hobbled to the kitchenette, in search of the wretchedly-weak, ineffectual Peptac antacid.

Diverted for another wee-wee, and brought the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) back into use. I didn’t need the EQ to tell me it will be required a lot today.

I downed a few swigs of the otiose, worthless, medicine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and took the morning medications. Then, with fingers crossed and a prayer, I turned on the computer!

: The computer and CorelDraw seem to be working correctly again. SO I concentrated on making up an in-brief Friday blog to replace the one that got gobbled up in the ether yesterday. Cry? Me? Of course, I did! I pressed on full of concentration and determination (but not a lot of confidence) and got it finished and posted off. Needing four wee-wees while doing it! Oh, dearie me!

Then I Pinterested a few snaps. Sent the link off, and replied to the flourish of comments, both of them. Hehehe! I’d just started creating a template for today’s diary, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arose again. Hoping for more luck this time, of I trotted to the wet-room. (The carpet is getting a little threadbare twixt the computer and toilet now, feet and four-pronged walking stick impressions all over it!) Tsk!


You may wish to avoid this description, it was so bad, I went through so much, I thought I ought to include it. Please go under the line below to continue. Sorry.

Utter agony! The movement began of its own accord. Everything stretched to what must have been the limit, and it would go no further! I even tried to push things along, which obviously brought more pain, and I could feel the blood flowing without having to check.

I got the crossword book, and spent half an hour or so on it, without any movement from the evacuation. Embarrassingly, I was so desperate, I painfully upped the PPs, and went to the kitchen and took two sachets of Macrogol in warm water, and returned to the Thone. Continued with the crossword, it took my mind off of the uncomfortableness a little, especially as I was doing so well with the puzzle.

The action started again, no input from me, and it was so solid and felt massive, then suddenly moved really fast. I didn’t think it could hurt me anymore than it was doing, but this rush proved me wrong… Argh! Oh, dearie me!

Silver-Lining Search Result: At least it wasn’t messy.

Danged ginormous, stinky-poo, and of toilet-blocking-worthiness! I had to remove the radio and paper from the top of the WC, to refill the tank, several times to get the evacuated product flushed away, I even used a wooden stick to break things up, and the skewer broke, such was the solidity! I cleaned the place, got a good wash and sanitised the touch-areas, and gave it what must have been the tenth flushing, the water bubbled up to near the top of the porcelain this time? But, it was completely clear of any matter, thankfully.

Thank was a right morningmare to go through! I swore to remember to take another Macrogol later. Just in case, and shall take one when I wake in the morning too!

I gingerly turned my attentions to the medicalisationings. This was when I noticed the blood spatter on the floor. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids had been through the mill! I used the last of the tube of Germolid cream (not to fret, I’ve got another tube, but I ordered the wrong one, the new one, which I’ll have to use after the ablutionisationing, is an ointment, what the difference is I’m not sure, but I’ll find out later, Tsk!) A vestige of discomfort remained, but so much less now the barely endurable torpedo-from-hell has been passed. I hope things don’t get blocked up lower down the flats? A good clean up all around, and off to get a mug of tea. The fear of going through that again made me take a senna tablet as well.


I turned my attention to getting the Healthchecks done. The stick thermometer showed me that the body temperature was 34.7°c, which is not too low.

: Hit my head on the corner of the cupboard door. Blungletads!

After yesterdays drop to near normality, (135) the BP sphygmomanometer had my SYS back up high again. However, its been a lot higher over the past two weeks, so fingers crossed.

Back to the computer. I was making up a template for today’s post, and on CorelDraw, making up a graphic, and it froze and turned itself off! My heart sank! Again the damned thing! I turned it back on and had lost all the work I’d done, so had to redo it again, but at least the programme let me. Pickleglobknobs! Got the photos taken this morning in, and on WordPress.

Took a snap of the once again, blue morning.

Then got on TFZer Facebooking catch-up. Next, I went on the WordPress Reader, some smashing, making-Inchcock-jealous photos on there today. Hehehe!

Tea and biscuits were partaken of, and another Macrogol made up, then got the Ablutionalisationing tackled.

The ablutions all went so surprisingly, joy-makingly well. Yes!

For some unfathomable reason, Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning?

The shaving produced only two microscopical cuts; although the dropsies were more persistent than of late, I’d got the short picker-upperer to hand, and coped injury-less well with retrieving the razors (at least eight), shaving foam (2), and the after the shave (used to stop the bleeding). Not much left of the Brut now, I’ve dropped it so often! Hehe!

The showering, well, apart from a Dizzy Dizzy visit, that caused no Accifauxpas or injuries, went so smoothly, I was almost gobsmacked! The pins and plates were nae bother and other than still looking on the pale side, appeared practically normal! Even Arthur Itis’s knees were in the best state all week!

And the medicationalisationing of my battered and been through the mill this morning, rear-end with the new ointment style Germoloids, went without the furuncle being affected, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids calmed down within a few minutes!

I sure you’ll understand how and why I fostered a Smug-Mode, Class A, Grade One! Suddenly life and hope were returning, but knowing my luck, temporarily I’m sure. Humph!

I got dressed, and scribbled some notes top use on this blog later, and decided I could cope with another brew, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana. As I bent to return the tea caddy back to the floor, I realised that my luck had not completely changed; for Duodenal Donald kicked off, and has not stopped since! (well, up to the time I got around to typing this update anyway) He seems to be making up for his absence over the last couple of days. Crikusdongungungs, he’s having a ball with me! This (I assume) is what has started Dizzy Dennis off! Most uncomfortable, now, Tsk! Up and down like yo-yo’s today, danged ailments!

I delayed the tea while Duncan was playing up, and had a good few swigs of the useless Peptac. Which incidentally, replaced the excellent Aludrox SA, which the Doctor told me years ago, had gone up in price five-fold overnight, and the NHS has barred the product. Cagnangles! I am on omeprazole for the ulcer, but it’s not doing anything at the moment to relieve my wayward innards! Still, yer don’t like to complain, does yer? Much!

The rain continues to fall, not too heavily at the moment. I took two photos from the kitchen window, one in Auto, the second one in Landscape mode. A little glum-looking!

Now, I just much find time to do some graphicalisationing, I’m right out of diary page, and Thought header graphics. Oh, Crappleness! Duodenal Duncan’s having a ball with me again!

Took the evening medications, and wondered if the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, were going to let me down again with the delivery? My EQ said; “Just get your head down, there’s not the slightest chance of them delivering your prescriptions tonight, mate!”

Fingers crossed that CorelDraw doesn’t play up again.

Two graphics were done, and ‘Inchcock-Done-Innerer’ syndrome took over. And, the wash, bish-bash-bosh, and get made the nosh! Hehehe!

The meal was prepared, and after I burnt my finger getting the fish strips out of the oven, and applied some Germolene to the index digit, I served it up. At this stage, where I had to be alert enough not to fall asleep, just in case the EQ was wrong, and the medicines did arrive, nodding-off was not an option.

This plastic plateful of nosh certainly looked appealing enough. But the potato scones were not heated properly, everything else was okay, mind. Incidentally, I found the black pepper pot I’ve been searching for over the last few days. Tsk! That spiced up the pickled eggs! A flavour rating of 7/10 given. Shame about the potato scones, but Morrisons delivered them with only one day’s sell-by date on them. Humph! Did the pots.

I got stripped, washed and down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner. Now to stay awake, in what turned out to be unfulfilled hopes of the prescriptions arriving. Which when I remembered this, I had to get some clothes on again, in foolish, vain, ridiculous ideas that the drugs may soon come. Hahaha!

I fought hard to stay awake, a couple of minutes or so long nods did happen, but I’m sure the door chimes would have woke me. After 19:00hrs, I realised what I already knew, that the prescriptions were not going to be delivered.

There I was, half-asleep, drowsy, pissed off, and in need of a wee-wee, and getting all het-up with life again. Stewing in sinful thoughts, and saddened by the failures, and the damned Thought-Storms arrived then, Huh!

I got the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) and used it.

:  And a new style of wee-wee launched itself at me, caught me out I can tell yer! I christened this one as an SVTP (Storming-Vicious-Torrential-Powerful) wee-wee. I can’t believe that my lasered bladder could hold so much urine, to belted out, splashed and sprayed, showered the carpet, and me. I nearly lost my balance at it bucketed into the bucket, and poured about everything around. It stopped abruptly, no after-trickling. I’m not surprised, there just couldn’t have been anything left inside to come! Thunderisations! Little Inchy must have felt like an inadequate mini-fire hose! Haha!

Cleaning up and sanitising the resulting overspill, and me, took yonks to get done. I have to admit, I was feeling sorry for myself again, bitter at the Chemist, and so in need of sleep, the thought storming stopped, and was replaced with a pathetic sort of sulky, had enough, why me? Depression.

By the time I put away the cleaning bucket, cloths, brush and disinfectants, I was out of the darkness, and back as me again. (No idea why or how?) I was laughing to myself, thinking of how others would have coped. Remembering my fellow patients in the poor devils in the Newell Acute Stroke Ward (Now renamed Unit C5 Acute Stroke Unit), and how I am so much better than many of the others in there, were. Guilt developed, at how I was handling life’s challenges.

A most peculiar mood came over me as I got down again in the c1968 recliner. I was passive, ashamed and yet with a certain contentedness. My not getting to sleep, no longer bothered me, and when the Thought-Storming started again, I wallowed in them? This must-have affected me, cause I found notes about it scribbled on the pad in the morning, in all clear readable lettering, and that’s a first time that has happened.

Mmm? Summat must be in the wind for me. EQ says so!

TTFNski.

5 thoughts on “Inchcocksi – Saturday 3rd October 2020: Porcelain Throne agony! Willy nilly wee-weeing. Computer problems. Argh!

  1. “Try to Flush sixteen tonnes what do you get? A lot a frustration and a broken poker stick. I’m telling you ‘mon’, as you know, order more chili from the company store.” No end to frustrations and going wee wee wee all the day long. That’s a right decent looking well arranged meal you ended up with.

    • Hehehe!
      I’m going to make an order today, for Wednesday I hope, before the medicalisaitonalistic Thursday arrives. I hope to get some mild chilli in, Timothy. Nothing else stands a chance against Constipation Konrad.
      Taketh care, and cuddles for the cats (Those that want one). Hahaha!

  2. Lisa is also a porcelain-throne multiflusher, sometimes requiring a good five attempts ‘fore encountering a breakthrough. We also use her EOBPB (Emergency-Overnight-Blue-Plastic-Bucket) to move “things” along.
    Interesting phenomenon, finding clearly-written notes penned in the night. They are calorie-free, a good thing methinks. Another first for Windthorpe’s foremost publication of record. IT, *The* indispensable read internationally read with lively accounts on every waking minute. Now introducing documents penned in *non-waking* minutes. As reported:

    Summat must be in the wind for me

    Summat, me ducks!

    • Cheers, cockerski.
      Sorry not up to much with the worry over Sister Jane’s stuation/health.
      I got four likes in a post last week, by gum I’m gerrin’ popular.
      Forgive my lack of response. TTFN.

      • No problem at all, Sir. I always allow worrying settle in its own way, allowing all things to take the time they need, and no apology is ever needed. Just say “Oh, bladder hell 🙂

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