Inchcock Impetuously – Sat 21st Nov 2020: Worst Day for months. Oy, Oy, Oy!

Henry mountaineering on Janet! ♥ Hahaha!

Saturday 21st November 2020

Finnish: Lauantai 21 Marraskuuta 2020

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Due to ailments, this will have to be a short version of the day ________________________________________________________________________________

23:45hrs: Stirred, Wee-wee. Pains. Mug of Thompsons Punjana. Medications, extra Codeine taken.

Between working on the Friday post, going to the Porcelain Throne, and constantly having to tend to Little Inches fungal lesion bleeds, and hell from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda); the wee-wees dried up and became rare indeed.

I did the Health Checks were done. All figures not pf much interest to me, I’m afraid. I had so many of the old ailments ganging up on me.

Three hours after starting it, I finished and posted the blog. Facebooked, and went on the WordPress Reader section, and Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters started giving up sending messages to the brain. Making things go so slow and frustrating for me. What next?

BBB, Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra all offered  Nick support in making the day one of the worst for months for me.

I did the BP, the SYS was up for the first time in a few days. Fancy that!

Then the Porcelain Throne was attended. More bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids now, as well as poor Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. But the motion was back to an unwillingness to move concrete-mega-torpedo. No doubt about it, Constipation Konrad had the upper hand over Diarroreah Duncan and Trotsky Terence today. But most likely it’s my own fault, I’m not sure if I took the Dioctyl® poo-softeners or not last night. I took an extra one afterwards.

Well, as I went into the kitchen to make a brew and take a photo of the morning sky now, it was beginning to lighten a little. And Duodenal Donald kicked off. The stabbing pains being as low in the gut as they were, was indicating, judging by past experiences that Donald (or, I) was in for a long haul.

But I was determined to get some Templates made up. I was full of grit, determination, stupidity and agony. Spurgledamnations!

Then a real ailments-causing, marathon (over seven-hours!) session of making up templates. After which I got a very late brekkers of noodles and some biscuits. Pickleglobknobs and Simper! Hahaha! What am I laughing for?

I somehow got them done, and was not up to much then. I got down in the recliner, the headphones on, and listened to some classical music, half-hoping to fall asleep.

But, no! I reckon over the next three hours I must have nodded off at least twenty times, but it was only for a minute or two each time. On the umpteenth waking up, I decided if I didn’t get up now, I’d never get this blog done, I’d not even started it yet, although I’d got the template ready at least. It was well beyond my usual head-down time now, and confusion had joined the ailments.

: I got the kettle on, thought about if eating was a good idea or not. (Duodenal Donald was so vicious!) I added some gravy, Soy sauce and garden peas to the CCC (Chilli-Con-Carni) in the pan, to make my mind up later. Then, the wee-wees started coming suddenly – and kept on and on coming! Grunglebogknickers!

I was semi-proud of myself for tackling this blog so late, and in the condition I was. But I didn’t start it, due to the Porcelain Throne Session demands, mark 2 arriving.

I really didn’t think there was any rush, so made the Glengettie and left it to brew, and meandered staggeringly to the wet-room. Shogglebogights! The damned evacuation started of its own accord before I got myself sat down!

Total embarrassment! Shame! Self-Disgust and Feeling-Sorry-For-Myself modes all at the in unison! This time it was like rock-hard meatballs! A lot more painful, plenty of bleeding, and, of course, followed by the job of cleaning up the body-parts, and wet room floor! Good job I bought the expensive break-the-bank-account Germoloid Ointment! It really is so cooling and effective!

I Cleaned up and back to the kitchen to put the milk in the Glengettie. Oy, Oy, Oy! Nicodemus ensured that I dropped the milk carton – at first, this was a point of pride… I’ll explain further: I’d not taken off the cap of the bottle, and managed, and a bit of juggling with it, to catch it in mid-air so to speak – a smile of self-contentment broke out.

Then I lost my balance, went over to my right, and grabbed the counter to stop my going over, and I proceeded to knock the things off of the draining board.

I was so disappointed with myself, the items are still there now! As I bent to begin retrieving them, BPB gave me such agony, I gave up, wailed silently, simpered, and even threw the now cold tea away!

Yet found the concentration to get this blog finished early. If anything else occurs, I can add it Sundays post.

I got a wash and down in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep again.

I was still there, pee’d off with having to get up so often to pee, two hours later.

Got the computer on and sent this off to WordPress.

Today was a nothing day. One of the worst for ailments in ages!

Grumbleclonkackers!

9 thoughts on “Inchcock Impetuously – Sat 21st Nov 2020: Worst Day for months. Oy, Oy, Oy!

  1. Oh my. Not your best. Not your best at all. As Benny Hill used to say. I hate it when the rock hard meatballs go dropping on their own. Get some goo CCC in your system and you can shoot them out like a canon. Target practice in the lu.

  2. There is nothing like a nothing day for getting nothing done. Thursday and Friday found me recovering from an upper *and* lower gastrointestinal tract scoping. They found the source of my iron-deficiency anemia — a new flaring in the colon as well some other inflamed portions of what remains of my intestinal tract. And I’ve 45 photographs of my innards to prove it. I have until December 7 to find a Medicare plan that covers some new medications. The plan I picked up last year was a lousy one, so it should be easy to find a betterer one. 🙂
    In other words, a nothing-day for both Thursday and Friday.

    Postscript — Crohn’s was quite rare in 1975 when they diagnosed me with appendicitis. Of course, those were the scalpel only days. My surgeon, a certain Dr. Mattheis (a semi-reformed Nazi methinks) informed me that I had brought it on myself by worrying too much. Arschloch!

    • I hate getting nowt done, Billum – but as you so ably, learnedly, and propitiously point out – sometimes it is essential!
      May you maketh the mostest von Donnerstag unt Freitag. And all goes well with your investigative search.
      I had some photo’s from the Barium meal, but seem to have lost them. (Hard to believe, I know!) Haha! Nothing like as interesting as yours.
      I think I might know that Doctor, has he worked in the UK?

      • Owt days and nowt days,
        Gang aft agley days,
        Wot a lotta grey days,
        Laeng may covid stay away days,
        Donnerstage und Blitztage
        So sind die Menschtage.

        Never did see that Nazi quack again, but my next surgeon — Dr. Ronald Fegelman — was absolutely brilliant.

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