Inchcock Today – Friday 20th November 2020: I think I’ve caught euphobia?

Yee-Haa!

Friday 20th November 2020

Welsh! Dydd Gwener 20fed Tachwedd 2020


23:30hrs: BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was with me from the instant I stirred from my slumber. She was in a fiery-mood before I attempted to move, and got more severe when I tried to free my grossly overweighted, mega-flobby-stomached body onto my feet.

As the need for the Porcelain Throne became obvious, I dare not rush, because the balance was taking its time in settling things this morning. I had to take the risk of delaying things until I was steady on pins, and was semi-symphonious in mind and body, to ensure I’d get to the wet-room without and tumbles or Accifauxpas. The risk of some escapages was high. I arrived in the room, in what seemed a long, long time, and I was in time too, to evade any plop-outs! No leaks en route! Phew!

I whipped down the jammy-bottoms and PPs, had barely settled on the plastic seat, and the motion started of its own accord. It was more painful than yesterdays efforts, but Troksy Terence beat Constipation Konrad, 3-1! A much easier evacuation, quicker, and only a smidgeon of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Not as messy either. Smug-Mode-Adopted! 

I cleaned up and went to get the medicationalisationing done. Felt a twit again, when I found last nights tablets in the pot, untaken, obviously. So, this is the third morning I’ve found this had happened! So I took the tablets, applied the Phorpain gel, guzzled some of the pathetically weak Peptac medicine, and put in the Saccades Sandra drops in the eyes. Bit of a job innit, gerrin’ up. Hehehe! I took an extra Codeine 60mg, as BPB was still nagging away at me, and I had Anne Gyna beginning to stab all around the chest as well now. Also, I made sure I took the Dioctyl® capsule, that is important not to miss, as it is just beginning to win the fight against Conrad Constipation, and I do not want to end up on the Throne for hours at a time again!

The blood pressure was down a decent amount, to 152/72. Which was unexpected and welcome. We’ll see wots wot, next time! I mustn’t get too excited. Simper!

The temperature was up a bit, too 36.8° c, the highest it’s been for months. I think this is a good sign, too?

I got the computer on, and back to the wet-room for Porcelain Throne session No.2!

No rushing to get there this time. A repeat style of evacuation as the one earlier, but with a bit less pain involved, Super!

I got on with updating the Friday blog. Not a lot left to do on it, uploading the photos took a while, but it was soon all done, a lot more time checking and double-checking, and got posted off.

I emailed the link. Went on the WordPress reader, some fantastic stuff of there today. Then Pinterested a few pictures. Answered some comments, and caught up on Facebooking.

Made the first mug of Glengettie of the day, and took a picture from the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window. It wasn’t top quality, but it showed the lights along Winchester Street at the back and Ramsdale Crescent, closest.

I made the brew, and brought it to the computer and booted it up. I made a start on this blog for a few hours and stopped around 06:30hrs, as the ablutions would soon be needed to be done before the Iceland delivery arrived, that would be anywhere twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Well, Back to the Porcelain Throne again, for the third time! Pilestosufferagaintime! So, I opted to get the Ablutionalisaitoning done at the same time. I’m assuming that I made a mistake (No, it does sometimes happen, Chortle!), altered timing of the medications.

Which was due to my stupidity, puerility, cretinism, and asininity in missing the evening medication-taking for the last three nights. But it didn’t bother me at all. Egads! 

This third Throne affair was not as good as the earlier two were. Humbugski! Only because Harold’s Haemorrhoids poured out the blood so freely. Took me ages to stop the flow, medicate things and clean up. Then I had to get a scuttle on with the ablutioning.

But it went okay. Had it not been for the teeth bleeding, a few little nicks shaving, at least a dozen dropsies, my clearing the cabinet of all the items, giving myself a knock on the head while trying to get down using the picker-upperer to retrieve the ointments, tablets, sprays and olive oil from where they had to fall, behind the cistern. Why in hell, couldn’t they have fallen on the free open space on the floor? Skullclogglebonks!

Ah, well, at least the pins and toes, although mega-pale, were looking, and feeling okay and alright this flipping Friday morning.

When I came out, the lighting and colours outside looked unreal, as if the Lord had just repainted them.

So, once I’d dressed. I got my Nokia camera and took these three pictures. (Ah! I meant the Nikon camera, sorry). Mr Billumski, the Ohio State RCM (Red Car Monitoring) President, will be interested in the great number on sight in the road and car parks today? Or not! 

The photo I took straight ahead from the balcony window (That’s the one with the habit of the metal-spring-clip that needs pushing and pulling at the same time to open or close and have mangled many a finger, mine and even the NCH fitters, sent to mend them!) I’m waffling again, forgive me. The colouring kept changing, and the weak sunshine was covered by the clouds, but I managed to catch it this time. Bootiful!

I got the ‘YourArea’ magazine opened, and found some Coronavirus figures on it. At first glance, it appeared a little scary, but on closer inspection, the 878 figure was for the last seven days. Which us about 40% down on the rolling total.

But the crime figures I found for Sherwood, didn’t look too good! I copied this article for a bit of interest. Incidentally, between the two other people I’ve actually spoken to this week, and myself; None of us has seen a uniformed policeman in Sherwood for months now! Not good! I love the comment from the Neighbourhood Police Inspector!


Did some work, updating my personal dictionary, and the Iceland delivery man, he rangeth the intercom. I pressed the release button, and two Nottingham City Homes men were leaving as he entered.

I feel it only fair, to inform the gentlemen, that for a few second, we can hear what they are saying when someone calls us. I’ll say no more!

The gentleman dropped the bags inside the door for me and was looking a tad stressed. I assumed this was with his being running behind on his deliveries a little. So, I slipped him a can of plonk and thanked him profusely. Which cheered him a little and brought a half-smile to his face, which in turn, cheered me up!

I moved the carrier bags into the kitchen. I seem to have bought more than usual? Then set about storing the purchases away. I soon realised that I’d bought some Christmas treats on this order, that was why there seemed a lot.

The cleaners I put in the main junk room. I’d only bought one bag of frozen, potatoes shapes, and had worked out I could just about get it in the fridge. But it was a 50% Extra Free bag. So had a job on making room to get it to go in the drawer. Hahaha!

I got the hands wet with the ice, and (without thinking, as usual) l rang the hot water tap to wash and dry the hand. But I got sidetracked when I dropped a packet of biscuits. So I fetched the picker-upperer to retrieve them with, as I say, unthinkingly leaving the hot water tao running, I returned and dipped my hand in the bowl… Aghh! I ran cold water on it for ages, then rubbed some Savlon in the skin. What an Eizel!

When I got around to putting the things in the fridge, another struggle, moving things around to get the new fodder to go in, Tsk! I split the red grapes in half and put them in a carrier in the original box to take down to Jenny. I added one of her Christmas treats and a bag of wholemeal cobs. Well, they were such a good offer price, but I had to buy two packs to get the offer. And thought of Jenny, Doris and the charity she supports so much. Waste not, want not!

I then got the three-wheeler guide and put them in it, to take down to Jen’s apartment. I got down, rang her bell, and came back up in the elevator.

As I turned, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was giving me more discomfort, I can’t understand what set her off this morning? I had the struggle to get the trolley back in the door again. Something else that confuses me, I’ve never had bother like this getting in the door before, until this week? Most peculiar?

As I was getting ready to take some more photographs, it suddenly went so dark.

And yet, by the time I grabbed the camera, the sun was out, but obviously only through a small hole in the clouds.

I took a well-zoomed-in shot of the kiddies play area in Woodthorpe Grange Park. A few folks out there enjoying themselves, and was so pleased to see them all being good and observing the social-distancing rules, bless ’em.

I was getting a little weary now, and wondered on what to have for my nosh. I opted for smoked streaky bacon (from Germany this time from Iceland, last week it was from Poland, but it looked a bit fatty!) I only have two tins of tomatoes left, neither of them with a ring-pull opener.

I tried the new battery-operated one, but no luck with getting it to do anything yet. I read the instruction once more. I was about to make a change in plans, no way do I want to use the old finger-cutting one again; And, I tried the old-new one, Gotten-Himmel, it worked – but not all the way around the lid! I got the oven glove and carefully as I could, opened it far enough to pour the chopped tomatoes into the saucepan! Smug-Mode Grade2 Adopted.

I put the bacon on a tray and into the oven with it. Then investigated which seasoning to use. I got carried away I think, I added some Hickory, Soy Sauce, Squid vinegar and mild chilli powder. GAve it a good stirring, while thinking what a twit I was using these additions. Yet, after stirring for ages, I tried a spoonful, and I liked it! I’ll wait to see what it tastes like with the bacon in, before getting carried away. Hahaha!

It was grand! The wholemeal cobs were flavourful. Taste-Rating 8/10. It was devoured with delight!

All-in-all, a mixed day ailment-wise. I’ve had worse, much worse.

Obersturmbannführeress Deana popped in for a quick How yer doing?

Then, I had a wash, took the medications (Aha, I remembered!), and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus – and it didn’t take long to find!

Inchcock – Thurs 19 Nov 20: Soylent Green Memories Prompted!

TFZer discrete meeting? Hahaha! ♥

Thursday 19th November 2020

Danish: Torsdag den 19 November 2020

_________________________________________________________________________________________

00:40hrs: It all happened in a sort of slow-motion, to start with. I semi-woke up and lay there pondering the upcoming opportunities this dedicated ‘Toilet Day’, of 12th November, had to offer.

What Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Disasters, Failures, Stalemates, Mental-implosions, Frustrations, Defeats, Katzenjammers, Nonachievements, Babalaases, Pitfalls, Disappointments, Mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me; that might present themselves this Thursday.

Oddly enough, as I was thinking of this ‘Dedicated Toilet Day’, as I was removing my potbellied, portly, wobbling, paunched-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, a borborygmic mini-explosion from the innards, signalled the expergefactorial need for the Porcelain Throne. I thought it would be a good idea, if I didn’t delay, and got to the Porcelain Throne with all haste! So, I did!

Not only did I get to the wet room without any bother, (Well, there was a short loss of balance, but that was my own fault for not catching it as I grabbed Metal Micky), and that only lasted a few seconds without any detrimental damage or injury.

What followed was most encouraging. This session was the even less painful, no enteralgia, no bleeding!

And comfortably evacuated; This is first-time that this has happened in many a month! Yee-Haa! But I knew this could not last for long. But I  enjoyed it while it lasted.

Mind you, the poo colour was a sort of green. Still, it made a change: super-easy passage, and a pretty new colour for me to photograph for the gastroenterologist’s Neurogenic bladder and bowel management record.

I was tickled-pink, started singing to myself! (The Young Ones – Cliff Richard) As I was getting up to sort the cleaning up, I spotted the gunk-cleaner on the shower floor, that I’d left to soak in last night – and had forgotten all about doing! Oh, dear!

I went out to the hallway and turned on the shower-power at the box. Back in and as carefully as I could, got the shower on and I sprayed the cleaner away…

But it looked far worse than it did before my orgulous bright-spark of an idea was used.

Humph and Knackwrangles!

And then, of course, to completely demolish the memory of the successful Throne session and semi-contentment of the marvellous evacuation; The moment I moved the showerhead into the right hand so I could turn off the water, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed, and the showerhead flailed all over the place. This resulted in my attempt to retrieve the moving water-jetting, hose-pipe like head, I had a tumble to the floor and got an early morning closed up shower, and soaked the jammy bottoms and me, and I got a few knocks new and bangs, in the process! Tsk!

The struggle to get back up, the cleaning and sorting out, were done in a silent, stewing mood, ruminating and chewing the cud; determined not to get in a sulky frame of mind at the return of my devil’s own luck, and eventually affirmed it as just a tribulation. I was pleased with myself then, at how I’d talked myself into just accepting things, knowing these incidents will only get worse as the neurotransmitters slowly die anyway. Confusingly, sometimes it’s like this, others, I get all het-up, cursing my fate, and start Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna off, but not on this occasion? I sort of habituated, adapted to the situation. I’ve no idea why this is so, but I’m pretty content and stilled about things now.

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and realised than yet again, I’d not taken the evening medications! What an Ahntoisht, Shilmazel! So I took the evenings doses, and hope that I remember in size hours or so, to take the morning ones. Putz!

I carried out the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing first. But I didn’t fret over this reading, no doubt the falling over altercation had effected the reading, I’m sure.

The new thermometer did not work first try. Do I turned it off and back on again, and got this disappointingly low reading, again though, this is probably due to the fracas in the wet-room?

I got on the computer and started to update the Wednesday blog. Which was done in a reasonable time for once, the ailments seem to be feeling sorry for my tumble, and are being kind to me perhaps? (I might be losing it again here!)

I poddled to the wet-room, for another wee-wee, and when I got back, I noticed the veins in the left arm were almost luminescent? And, odd;y they looked a little greener than usual?  When I took this photo, I used the flash, and it came out looking more strange than it really looked, but I WordPressed it anyway, cause it looked so odd. A camera glitch? Anyway, it made me think of Soylent Green. Hahaha!

Of course, it might just be one of the resident Woodthorpe Court mysterious Eidolons, Goblins, or Aliens, that are checking out my innards. The Chilli-Meatballs last night might have confused them? Chortle! Cackle! Guffaw!

I got the updating finished and sent off. Then emailed the link.

Pinterested some snaps, the got the ablutions sorted out. Well, I started to anyway. But I remembered the morning dosages needed to be taken, so returned and tool them, then back to the wet-room.

I noticed as I stripped off (a horrible, harrowing thought for you, I’m sorry. Hehe!), that I must have picked up in the tumble. Pretty scratch, though! Hahaha!

The teeth cleaning went fine.

The shaving surprisingly, only brought about two tiny weeny nicks, not worthy of mention really, but it’s too late now, I have written it. Simper!

I found one of the miniature wounds from the Accifauxpas on the right-hand knuckle. I seem to have picked up some nicks and bruises, ain’t I? However, the showering, which was something I was a smidge concerned about with the balance not yet back to normal, went great! No Dizzy Dennis’s, there was not a single clout or banging into anything, I was well pleased again.

The medicating was as smooth as could be expected! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inchies fungal lesion! The dressing was only bothered temporarily by a dodgy-wobble getting the trousers on, but I remained on my feet, Oh. Yes! This is a better day, up to now! Perhaps, my prayer and a few words to Mr G the other day had got through? Or, not! Snortle!

I was in good form after the ablutions, and set about moving the hand-washed togs about, to nearer the heater, now they had stopped dripping.

That reminds me of when I was a whipper-snapper! Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine; after I’d set and laid the fire, and done my paper rounds, I had to go to Sanderson’s Tripe & Cow Heel shop, on Arkwright Street, and wait (sometimes for hours), to claim the ham bone, once enough had been sliced and sold, 3d (Threepence it was)  And heaven help me if I couldn’t get it! Dad would not be happy with me at all!

This look like the original shop, I could find a photo of when they were open. Gawd the place smelt gorgeous! Once a fortnight I had to some tripe as well. Every week, the jellied pork dripping they sold, 9p a pound (weight) was bought as well. Oh, the memories are flooding back now! Of course, when Dad was working on a Saturday, meant I had a few hours of waiting for him to arrive home. Which, in the rare event that one of the three items was unavailable; meant I had to wait for the clips around the earhole longer.

Happy days, rough, hard work. Mater kept disappearing to avoid the police, so muggins had set the fire every morning! Do the paper rounds so kindly got for me by Dad, the cooking and cleaning too. But I did feel needed, wanted, and the odd belting!

But I was content, I knew no other life! There were plenty of lads worse off than I was… I’m waffling again, Sorry about that. It’s a bad habit of mine, wandering off, on some unrelated topic. Still, I do enjoy getting these memory-prompting meanderings.

I got the black bags gathered and onto the three-wheeler-guide trolley, and had a job to do it, but got it out of the door, along,  the lift lobby, and into the waste room, and deposited all the small bags down the chute.

It was deathly quiet, and no signs of any tellurians. Even the ‘Hum’ was quieter today.

Even Herbert has only been heard on two occasions up until now. I’m beginning to worry about this. He’s not one for persiflage, more your sort of taciturn, reserved, reticent, antisocial type.

The walk back to the flat along the newly, highly-attractive, ornamentally decorated and floored lift lobby.

It felt so. Haha! 

Getting into the three flat’s lobby was easy enough this time, and at that moment, I was feeling better than I have for a few days, getting tired, but that’s to be expected.

But, when it came to getting into the front door, that’s the maroon one, that the workers laying the floor for us all, decorated with some gunk for me, and left it there, and I have no intention of cleaning up – Swine!, I felt the weariness take a strong grip on me, and the missing so far today, Dizzy Dennis kicked into gear.

But I was not mentally tired, only bodily. Does that make sense? I went out on the balcony to take a couple of photos of the busy scene down below on Chestnut Walk.

Blimey, we had a traffic jam! Hahaha!

I spotted some crows in the distance and snapped them, but it was not a good shot. Shame. I wanted to post them to the TFZ site, Lona might have appreciated them.

Doing some updating on this blog, and I thought I heard a clunk, it may be the belated INR WArfarin results and new dosages. It was, and the dosages had changed. Meaning, because no one from the Clinic, Anticoagulation or Deep Vein Thrombosis had informed me from the Monday test, I have been taking too few Warfarins tablets since then. This Coronvirus is most likely killing a few people without the virus!

The landline chirped and flashed. It was some woman on a recorded message again, telling e they had taken £75 something from my account for ‘Prime’, if I want to cancel this press One, so I did. Waffling on a woman with either a Chinese or Indian/Pakistani accent – I couldn’t tell if it was recorded or real voice, she was going that fat, and without a cat in ells chance of understanding anything she was saying. I rang off.

Dizzy was joined by Anne Gyna, and I gave up on the computer and got the nosh prepped.

I had a good sniff at the out of date potato cakes, and luckily, they passed the sniffing nasal-assessment, so went in the oven, and were added to the tray.

The Chilli-Con-Carne, with the added tomatoes, mild chilli seasoning, Squid vinegar, garden peas and gravy, tasted jolly good!

There was so much of it though, you can see here that I couldn’t eat it all.  Titter! Seriously, it was a worthy 9.3/10 for a Flavour rating!

I was doing the washing up when Dizzy Dennis and BLB (Balance-Loss-Brian) allied to attack me. From here onwards, memory, of the night was enveloped it a vague mistiness.

When I woke up later – there was no scribbling on the notepad. I had a criminally, painful backache, and the shoulder was so painful. Signs of an Accifauxpa? But no memory. I’d not taken the evening medications, and was wearing the reading glasses?

Another mystery of life in Woodthorpe Court. Hey-Ho! 

Gawd the lower back hurts?