Inchcock – ‘The Blubber Man!’, Wednesday 9th December 2020

TFZers Handyman at play!

Then I hobbled home and made a brew of Glengettie, Haha!

Wednesday 9th December 2020

Swahili: Jumatano 9 Desemba 2020

23:30hrs: Slowly, very slowly, I stirred into imitation life, and with this, the Thought-Storms started to attack. Fast and furious, malicious too! Most emotions were in there somewhere at some time. Jealousy, hatred, fear, nervousness, disgust, self-contempt and an expectation, nae, certainty that something else is going to go wrong, or malfunction again today.

Several minutes later, utter confusion reigned. There were none of the usual three distractions to help me; The need for a wee-wee, the Porcelain Throne, or any of the ailments being excessively painful or bothersome. It took a while of oddly exhausting talking to myself and a lot of ignoring of the wayward thoughts, until belatedly (for me), as I was considering the easiest way to rearrange my lumberous stomach-ladened body from the recliner, the need of a wee-wee arrived. It was welcomed!

As I caught my balance, I noticed that the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), had not been utilised, so I made my way to the wet room. After yesterdays lack of wee-weeing, I expected the usual for yesterday anyway, resistant, weak, tricking mode. But, Oh, boy, no! Although short and sharp, the torrent of wee belted out like from a hose-pipe (Albeit a small hosepipe). There was no PMD (Pre or Post Micturitional Dribbling), which surprised me a tad. However, there was plenty of cleaning up to be done, from the overspill and spray! I must take care, and be aware of this, on my next visit!

I took the morning medications, taking a poo softener as well, from one of the pill-pods that the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, hadn’t forgotten to put the pod covers on.

I got on with updating the Tuesday blog.

The need of another wee-wee arrived, this time I utilised the grey bucket, easier to contain the spraying from Little Inchies mini-hosepipe. This visit was just as blasting as the first, but I managed to avoid any overspray. Also, unfortunately, I saw that the urine colour had got a lot deeper, now, according to the urologist’s check chart, it was on level four. So, I refilled the spring water bottle and kept it near the computer, and took swigs of it often.

Back to the updating, and got into it, and completed it, but it cost me a couple of hours. I forgot all about the extra drinking, so had a guzzle of spring water, then got the kettle on, and made a brew of Glengettie. I told myself that I’d done a good job! Why? I’m not sure now!

A summons to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet room, down on the raised plastic seat, and had I a wee-wee, while awaiting the evacuation to start. Little Inchie shook, well, trembled, as the jet of wee-wee exploded into the WC bowl – the spray back gave my bottom an upside-down shower of the warm liquid! Grumblecronkackers, that was uncomfortable, wince-making!

The slow to start evacuation almost made up for the mess from the wee. It was not even painful, soon over, and despite the size of the torpedo, cleared first flush! Bleeding was just a few specs, and no sore rear-end afterwards! All in all, a fine session! But of course, the midriff area, front and back, needed washing and freshening up, which it got.

I’m hoping the wee-weeing will die-down a bit. Obviously, I’d made another cock-up with sorting the medications, and must have taken another Furesomide somewhere along the line. Mind you, maybe not. With the colour going so dark, perhaps I’ve got another bladder infection? Hey-ho!

I finished the updating, and posted it off to WordPress, then went on their Reader section. Next, I emailed the link. Then went on Facebooking catch-up. Pinterested a couple of photos, and off for yet another wee-wee! Much better this time, not so vicious, and shorter, still no PMD (Pre or Post Micturitional Dribbling)!

Then I got the Health Checks completed. The sphygmomanometerisationing BP hemadynamometer, gave a much lower and healthier reading today. It was SYS 136, DIA of 74, and Pulse at 81 bpm. About time it came down, I’ve been the recent far too high ones.

Harpin Xian Di Thermometer reading was a sound 36.8°c.

I made a start on this blog, and then made a poy of Super Noodles, with added gravy and a drop of soy sauce. I’ll not bother with the soy sauce again.

The ablutions were the next job than needed tending to. I was feeling a little better, and a lot less stressed this morning. Which is a silly thing for me to say, knowing my luck! I do take chances, don’t I, pushing my luck there! Hahaha!

Blimus! Another good ablutioning session! I had no bother with the teggies, only one tiny nick shaving, and the medicating went great! No showering, because Iceland food delivery is coming early today. Only around six dropsies in total! This is the second day of having an injury-free scrubbing up session. Worrying, isn’t it?

I’d not been back on the computer for long when the intercom rang out, and the delivery man was soon up at the door with the bags. I slipped him a can and thanked him. Then took the carriers through to the kitchen… and, there were only three of them! At first, I thought; Hello, have I been done again? There’s not much there for £44? Then remembered I’d bought two bottles of wine, for Christmas pressies, ah, fair enuf!

I got them stuff sorted out, and split the black grapes with Jenny, fat too many for me on my own, still, she does like than, so may not tell me off to much for sharing. Put some things dl=elivered that can be used for her charity, some wine for Doris for Christmas and bits. The Christmas plonk for Deana had arrived as well. I got the things in a bag for each of the ladies and stacked it with the waste bags on the three-wheeler. I regret not photographing it now. It looked funny with so much stuff stacked on it.

I set off and dropped the first bag of at Jenny’s flat, had a distance natter for a minute or so. Oh, how I miss the chinwags with this isolating! I got the lift down to the ground floor, the workers were busy in the lobby.

Out to the waste bin, the caretakers were there, Rob took the bags off of me, and I continued on to the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation Office, in Windwood Court.

I turned to look back and tool a snap of Woodthorpe Court and the end of Chestnut Way.

Then pressed on and got to Winwood Court, Tenant Christine was chatting to ILC, Obergruppenfürheress Deana, so I had a nosey around the lobby area perusing the notices.

I was taking a picture of their Christmas tree when Reichs Inspekteuress Julie ILC returned to the holding-cell. So, managed a few seconds natter and laugh there! Which suited me down to the ground.

Had a wee gossip with Deana and Julie, and explained about the tablet-pods cock-up. Deana. Handed the Christmas treats over, and after the cheerios were completed, I made my way outside and hobbled back to the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court. With its phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, daemons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, and gremlins awaiting my return.

Luckily, I’d remembered to take the swipe-fob with me, so I could get into the decorative, pleasant, picturesque, ground floor lobby of the apartments. It’s not pretty. But it’s home! Haha!

The workmen had disappeared, off on their lunch break I assume.

A notice was up tp inform us that the laundry room will be closed next Tuesday, from 08:00hrs > 16:00hrs. They must be planning to do some modernisation work in there?

I got up to the flat, made a brew, and started to update this post.

Some drilling was taking place above, but it was short-lived?

I phoned Jenny, on my new Nokia 8.3 5G, with a 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g, side fingerprint scanner and Google Assistant button. Ahem! To advise her of the laundry closure next Tuesday.

Then got carried away, adding favourite words to use for the blog. The file with these on and thousands of others were lost when the Notepad file mysteriously disappeared last week. Cragnangles!

The confusing wee-wees have kept coming, but getting slowly further apart, and now a lot less urgent and powerful. I knew you’d want to know that. Har-Har!

My thoughts turned to fodder, and off I went vacillating, in my usual faltering fashion over what to make for a nosh.

Well, oh, my! This turned out a decent meal. Garden peas, fries, tomatoes, pork & pickle mini-pies, red grapes, and two of the Jenny donated pickled eggs. No bread, and no tea.

The limoncello was too sweet for me, but the lemon yoghourt was fine. A decent 7.5/10, all gobbled up (apart from the limoncello).

I think the thought-Storms must have worn themselves out earlier, cause they did not bother me as I got down into the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.

I was soon in the land of nod.

I was soon out of the land of nod three hours later. Sickeningly, wide awake!

8 thoughts on “Inchcock – ‘The Blubber Man!’, Wednesday 9th December 2020

  1. Unfortunately, they can’t do anything about dying nerves. I have a lot of dead and dying nerve issues, also. Now that’s a very good SYS and temp today. You should be feeling good about that. Do you remember the “Son of Flubber” movie, 1963? You can do a “Blubberman” series. Great outside shots and you even got a photo of a Christmas Tree. Nice to see a little Christmas cheer among all the bah humbugary of 2020. That’s a very good looking meal you made.

    • Cheers, Sir,
      The nerve end are going, I imagine that covers tissues, Tim?
      ‘Blubberman Returns’, ‘Blubberman Blows It’, ‘Blubberman Blames Tony Blair’… sorry, I was thinking out loud of some episode titles. Haha!
      Ah, the Winwood Extra Care block, Tim. I stand a risk of getting trampled by nurses when I go in there after 0900hrs, Har-har!
      I hope you’re doing alright, Sir, TTFNski

  2. I am glad that the UK has the vaccine available, the value of a chinwag or three is underrated.
    Hoping the vaccine shows up before too long.
    Quite a brilliant Christmas tree in the office there. My Christmas greetes to Deana and Julie!
    And a bah humbug to the hum 🙂

    • A’mornin’ Sir Billumski,
      I so hope the vaccine works.
      A bad photo that one of the tree, Bill. It looked rather good to the eye. But a strange lack of people wanting to appreciate it, folks here are getting a smidge uptight with the lock-down methinks.

      A new sound has been identified (Sherlock Holmesian Mode Adopted). The ‘Hum’ can be heared out of the window and in, but seemed a lot worse inside? So, I concentrated, and moved around the flat (Not much room, but still (Haha!), and there is a droning noise definitely coming from above, I’ve worked out it comes and goes… so must be machinery from the plant room on the roof?
      Of course, I could be wrong! I’m good at that!
      All the best to Lisa, and taketh care!

      • Considering the list of maladies brought by Covid couldn’t be worse than the side effects, I certainly hope not. But lockdown does have its own list of maladies — including uptightedness.
        Sounds that travel through the air “sound” differently than sounds carried through walls and floors. Perhaps you could take the elevator to the 14th floor and describe the hum heard higher, hmmmm?
        Being wrong is something we’re all good at methinks. 🙂
        Lisa sends her best to you, and we both wish you to taketh the greatest care!
        Lach mal wieder!

      • The Covid-Cooties (I stole that from Tim Price), effect are indeed of an neurotically irascible nature… Hello, it’s started again!
        ‘Hum heard higher, hmmmm?’ Hahaha!
        A could write a poem or song,
        About often being wrong,
        We could all sing along,
        Warbling like a currawong,
        Fame may come from our singalong,
        And I might learn to talk Hmong!

        A cuddle for Lisa, through the ether, fuss for the kitties, and my best wishes, for peace!

      • Cooties indeed. The electronic variety are a safe strain, something not available in the pandemic of 1918. Where was Mr G when they needed him?
        Very suitable and inspiring pome, kind Sir! Lisa and the furries send you ethereal electronic cuddles and purrs, for peace!

      • Betterer late than never for Mr G. Even though he’s cut diwn the storage of photos, the Swine!

        I should have been the next Shakespearre I think. Had it not been for my bad spelling, and crap poems.

        Thanks for the good wishes Madam and Sir.

        Not a lot of news reaching us about the White House changover.

        I had a dream last night, and it was so good and real, when I woke up I thought there’s no need to make any notes, cause itwas such an astounding dream I could never forget it. But I did! CAn Mr G help with this problem? Haha!

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