Intaglioed Inchcock -Wednesday 10th February 2010 Diary

TFZer Lillie – I wish it were true!

Wednesday 10th February 2010

Tuesday 21:10hrs: Gave up trying to get any sleep, and got up. Had a wee-wee, made a brew, and begot another wee-wee.

A persistent dry cough seems to have developed?

I made a start on updating the Tuesday diary and pressed forth with it for a couple of hours. Had a wee-wee, made a mug of Glengettie tea, and the stomach started rumbling and grumbling a little threateningly. Off to the Porcelain Throne with as much haste as I could summon.

I got myself seated, and thought I’d sat on a thysiastery! Gawd, did I go through it. Trotsky Terence ensured that the splattering, sploshing and misery of a vicious aching stomach, as things flowed, shot and squirted out! I put this miserable evacuation down to my having had a little too much flavouring and peppers in the CCC (Chilli-Con-Carne) last night. I was feeling so nauseous, queasy and weak afterwards. Never has one man, had so much cleaning up to do after an evacuation! The only thing good about it was that the nearly all liquid vacated product was cleared with one flush! The clearing and cleaning of the splashes and myself took me ages.

A weakened, slightly demoralised, stomach ache-suffering Inchcock, returned to the computer, realising that had he not got up so ridiculously early, it would have so much worse a catastrophe, as the gurgling started, if I was still in the recliner at the time. I certainly would never have made it to the wet room in time! This thought made me feel a little better, not well! But not so bad. Of course, the tight innards and stabbing pains continuing told me to be ready for another calling to the Porcelain Throne Thysiastery again soon!

I had another wee-wee, washed, and went to make another mug of Glengettie tea. And started the Health Checks off.

The BP, had a low SYS of 150, DIA of 72, and the Pulse was 84bpm.

In Hong Kong, by the Chinese Harpin Xian Di Company, a reliable contactless thermometer gave a good reading in the green, of 36.7°c – 98.06°f. Which is fair enough for me.

Another wee-wee, then I got back to updating the blog. Finished it, had a wee-wee, washed, made another brew (Thompsons Punjana this time), then posted the Diary to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps emailed the link, and I went on Facebook catch-up.

The innards were actually getting more bothersome now, a second calling is on the cards soon, methinks.

A wee-wee and mug of Glengettie, and snapped a half-decent morning shot of the view from the thick-frames light and view-blocking kitchen window.

Then I went onto CorelDraw to get the templates built. I had a decent crack at it and got a couple made up.

Then a dual-reasoned visit to the wet-room, on my way to get the ablutions started, and gurgling from the innards, along with simultaneous involuntary movements from the rear end, forced, me to imitate a Cruise Missile, and go like the clappers to get to the Porcelain Throne (2) in time! I made it by a whisker, Phew! I much different evacuation this time. I think the Constipation Konrad is fighting back for supremacy, he’s still a long way off of winning, but the product was like mini-waffles, painful for the first time in five or six visits, but still not messy. I look forward to visiting the Throne for the third time, with fear, anticipation and dread! 

Not really, I just thought it was a humorous thing to say. I’m going batty, losing my trains of thoughts, and going batty, you know?

However, there was a silver-ling detected, in the wet room, and I was in there for a long time with the Throne visit as well, but apart from the accompanying wee-wee on the Porcelain, for over an hour, I did not need a wee-wee! Leery-Smile-Given! Which didn’t last for long, this was going to be one of my better ablution sessions. Still, I had a few decent ones lately!

Teeth cleaning, I lost another chunk from the top molar that is breaking up, but only one drop of the toothpaste tube! – Shaving, five dropsies, three nicks, and I broke one of the razors… Please don’t ask how; one-second there I was shaving my neck hole, humming away merrily to myself, and suddenly bits of plastic and the blade just dropped through my fingers down my back, and onto the floor?

The showering was not so good either. This was worrying a bit at first, and slightly, erm, crude, but I’ll tell you. I’d been round the rear-end having the crevises shower gelled, the old loofah did its job.

As I turned to change the heat level on the panel, the adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a short but brutal flailing performance, and had me down on one knee – which Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy were not happy with! Argh! Getting back up (Thank heavens for the grab bars), spurred BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), into giving me what-for as well! Double-Argh! 

At least the feet and legs, apart from the knees, were looking good.

If anyone had told me 70-years-ago, that I’d end up with all these ailments, have a heart operation, lose my memory, start stuttering, get shot, twice! Have trouble with the ears and eyes, contract Rheumatoid Arthritis, a Duodenal ulcer, get Peripheral Neuropathy, a stroke, diabetes etc. I would have laughed at them! Sad innit?

Anyway, medicationalisationing went well.

I made some brekkers. And tried to get a Morrison delivery slot for next week. It would have been easier to but some Rocking Horse sh…, but never mind.

I got some waste bags made up and put them in the walker-guide bag in the hallway.

Off to the kitchenette to make another brew of Glengettie. And I took four pictures with the Canon camera, of the beautiful morning view as the sun proffered shadows, and tried to come out to melt the earlier snow.

The dry coughing is no better yet.

I got an email from Sister Jane, with a humorous letter (photo), from the Nottingham Post newspaper, letters section. I had to smile at it!

I got the silly ode-blog made up and posted it off.

The Sainsbury order is due tonight, far too late for me, but it’s the only one I could get. Grumble-, moan, sob! Sainsbury’s email informed me that the shortages on order, were: Disinfectant, antiperspirant, shelled peas, leeks, and Sourdough bread, when I tried to scroll down further, a message informed me: Well fancy that!

With last weeks black-spotted potatoes, short-dated cooked meats, and no bread etc. how do they keep customers? Obvious to me, we proletariats, are stuck at home with the lockdown, have little option but to use them (Sainsbury’s). Iceland sent me green potatoes, chicken with one day’s life on it, and no sandwich thins or leeks, oh, and a leaking bottle of liquid soap! Asda refuse to come inside the building! Life is getting messier all the time! 

To try not to fall asleep and miss the Sainsbury order, (I know, it’s still five hours away, but with no sleep last night, if I did drop-off, it might be for a long time? I got on with doing the templates again.

I spent several hours trying to get the Kodak camera to work. It didn’t help with not knowing what the hell I was doing, should be doing, or even had done. But I kept my wonderful 100% record intact, and failed totally!

I cried, and then I tried again to get a Morrison order (through Amazon) in. Whippee! Got one for the morning, twixt 8>10AM I also ordered some more Thompsons Punjana tea bags.

Of course, I forgot all about the Sainsbury order coming this evening. Will I stay awake, or not? Wot a clot! Took these shots while waiting.

I found this photo on the DD card, why I took it. I’ve no memory of!

I was well done-in, by the time the intercom chimed out, from the Sainsbury driver. He asked why he had to come into the flats? I went down to meet him, we went up, and he deposited the nosh in the hallway. To shattered to make a proper meal, and the coughing and shivering started. At least I had a reet-treat, in some French Horn cake, I thought of Janet Aarron when I ate them, she has a fancy for them.

Washed the pots, took this snap of Chestnut Walk.

Got down and soon drifted off, but the coughing kept waking me up.

Not feeling good at all.