Innuendo-Inchy Saturday 20th February 2010 Diary

TFZer Tutoring a young, handsome lad – Makes yer sick! Hahaha!


Saturday 20th February 2010

Croatian: Subota 20 Veljače 2010

21:30hrs: I burst awake, confused, needing a wee-wee, and coughing. With new bother at all, I was up, caught my balance, had a weak, unwilling wee-wee, and heard the noise from above again, like a humming motor. The World Wide ‘Hum’ was heard as well.

A bit of shivering, and I put on a thick jumper. Remembering the Community Nurse was due this coming morning.

I got the things washed up from last night’s Chilli-Con-Carne feast. I’m sure I could still taste it, Gorgeous! 

I got the pre-dump Health Checks done. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, had good results for once. SYS 144, DIA 70, and the PULSE 84bpm. Looking good again! The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, proffered a 36.8°c – 98.24°f temperature. Still a smidge high.

Aha, summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, at last! I thought to myself, this is going to be interesting. And it was!

I got settled on the throne, and a day or so later (Hehehe!), the action started. Slow, drawn-out, Agony! I really thought that something was going to burst open… by the time the almost black, lumpy mini-torpedos had well-filled the porcelain bowl, I was ready to go back to bed… shattered! Done in!

But the cistern failed to clear things after three attempts. A couple more hand-refilling of the tank, and all was cleared. A few tiny spots of blood, but nowt to fret about: at least it wasn’t a messy affair. I medicated the rear end, using the Germoloid ointment, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids calmed down. Saccades-Sandra was playing up a bit. I prayed she was not going to be persistent.

I got the computer on and updated and finalised the Friday blog. Got it sent off to WordPress. The stomach has stopped rumbling. I emailed the link. Pinterested a few snaps. Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Not a lot on it again today. Went on Facebooking catch-up.

I got the handwashing rearranged and onto the curtain rail above the wall heater. To dry off. The made in Myanmar (Burmese), maroon and blue zip-up jackets, and the light purple Afganistan thermal jumper were done.

I carried out the post-dump Health Checks.

The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer readings ere much the same as the earlier check. The PULSE had risen just a bit.

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd. contactless thermometer reading was a smidge higher, too. 37.1°c – 98.78°f – which might be a little high.

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and started a fresh bottle of Sterilised milk from the fridge. Not being one averse to Accifauxpas, I decided to cut my finger on the peel-off aluminium milk bottle cap. Well, it keeps things interesting, dunnit?

I had a look at the WP comments and replied to them. Hello, the innards are kicking off… Oh, dearie me! Off to get the ablutions seen to. Too early to use the shower. Just in case it disturbs anyone kipping.

If nowt else, it were a different-mode style today. Got the teeth done, but it annoyed Toothache Terence a bit. Denasaled, and put the eye drops in… well, some of them. The shaving caused a few little nicks and about half-a-dozen dropsies.

The pins seem to have lost a lot of fluid—the skin paler than never.

The medicationalisationing was messy; poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids were stinging a bit. And, the old ankle ulcer scar was tingling under the skin? Another good thing, Little Inchies fungal lesion has not bled for weeks now! Of course, now I’ve gone and opened my runaway gob, anything can happen!

Leaving the wet room, clouted my right shoulder against the door frame. Tsk!

I got the job done pretty quickly, which gave me time to get some more handwashing done: the Indian long sleeves t-shirt, the lounge pants and a pair of socks. Al done, wrung and hung to dry.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold – the tea is still not tasting like normal. I tried the full milk to see if it makes any difference, but it didn’t. For some reason, the Thompsons Punjana brews are the worst of the three yet usually delight to drink?

I went on the balcony and tried to take some decent shots of Chestnut Walk below. This is the only one of the five taken that was not too bad. The Canon camera just doesn’t like being used in the dark. I might try with the sometimes working – others not, Kodak camera the next time. I wonder where I left it?

I went on CorelDraw to make some graphics.

Struggling to stay awake now. Community Nurses could be coming anytime over the next three hours. Dare not take the rubbish out and miss their arrival. Must try to keep awake.

The ladies arrived and set about investigating and vaccinating me. Bade them farewell, and all I wanted to do was sleep. So down in the chair, and was soon in the land of nod…

The landline chirped into life to disturb my rest. The Pharmacy asked how many doses I had left, told them, and said he’s delivery the prescriptions. I fell asleep again…

The landline chirped and flashed again, A reminder that the Warfarin blood test will be in the morning.

Fell asleep again, and the intercom announced the arrival of the prescriptions. I left them in the hall and climbed back into the recliner – and nodded of with no bother… for ‘Fifteen Hours!’ Is there an opiate, narcotic or anodyne in the Vaccine? Hehehe!


42 thoughts on “Innuendo-Inchy Saturday 20th February 2010 Diary

  1. Cut you finger on a milk bottle cap? That’s a sad state of being. And a vicious milk bottle cap. With your lethargesse and trying to stay awake for the nurses, their investigating a vaccinating seemed quite uneventful? Are you getting a visit from a vampire on Sunday or Monday? Legs and the oak leaf covering the non-bloody little inchy all look good. Decent photo of chestnut walk.

    • A tin foil lid it was, Tim. The cunningly-smooth vaccinationing has left me in a right state, mate. After the fifteen-hour kip, the innards are allover the place, the Throne has never had as much usage! Not eating much at all. I’m just not right at all. Monday, when the Vampire nurse arrived, she had the patience to oexplain about each of the after effects, ans some of her customers are going through the same – in fact, she went through it herself.
      The pins are getting ready to be photographed for the Tate, Sir. Hehehe!

  2. The mystery of the World Wide Hum requires the solving skill of a master, A Conan Doyle level of deductionarial prowess. *The Mystery of the Hum…Hmmm* an epic wot was ne’er written by Homer.
    Burmese and Pakistani wearables — legacies from the Empire. George Orwell wrote some great stuff about his days in Burma, a couple short-story favorites — “Shooting an Elephant” “A Hanging”
    And now that bloody cut from the aluminum cover looks like an injury from a Jezreel bullet…or not. Doctor Watson’s recurring ache reminds me of your Afghanistani clothes. A mystery to be solved…or not. The Matter of the Blood-Red Cars 🙂

    • I fink I might have worked out what the ‘Hum’ might be… although perhaps not.
      It could be the slow approach of a massive wind-powered fleet of attack spacecraft, getting nearer and nearer?
      They are gathering just outside the ozone layer, in Cloak Mode, awaiting several more thousands to arrive…
      Time for ponderisationing methinks?

      • I think yer have arrived at the most logical explanation, sir! Wind-powered aircraft make very little noise — except for the massive HUM, of course. The US now has something called a Space Force, they are probably conducting test flights over the Nottingham metropolitan area. Each spacecraft is equipped with a red-car identification system. The Pentagon sends me big bucks for every red vehicle spotted on Chestnut Walk. I shall proceed to call myself a “think tank”. Somewhat like a Panzer, doth me thinks!
        Ponderisationing time at the think-panzer. Top secret stuff it is. The brass won’t even tell me the account number for obtaining the big bucks I earn. Makes it hard to withdraw funds for a Morrison or Iceland order. Confidentiality is keeping me in a sad bottomline state. Mayhaps I need a second job, or should I become a double agent?

      • In a Sherlock-Holmesian mode, as is my way, I have given the subject of the Space Force, some deep invesitigational attention, Billum. (Still working on it)

        As for your plight in getting your due compensation, I may email the new president about this, mate! It ain’t fair, and all that work you do for the RCMS as well! Humph!
        Mayhaps as a soluble double agent, is a little concerning for me, Sir. A dodgy job that, oh yes! If you do monitoring for the Silver Car Monitoring Service as well, things could turn nasty, with the snow making it hard for car-colour identificationalisationing? Mayhaps, mon ami, you could turn to Purple Car with eliotrope mudguards, monitoring?
        Far less work!
        On the other hand, its worth realising that beyond the practicalities of life, lies much less possibilities of failure?
        Just a thought, sir.

      • I must consider following your excellent advice, the Silver monitoring possibilities are promising. Snowflakes make the work dodgy for a codger such as myself. Purple with a dash of eliotrope might well be less difficult. I must learn to learn from mistakes by making more and monitoring the results.
        More thoughts to ponder and to think about.

      • Hahaha!
        I take it, Sir, the snow continues in Ohio?
        I can’t understand it, I sent the President an email asking him to put a stop to it, as well? Hehe!
        Keepeth safe out there… please!

      • Yesterday, the temp hit 51, today 61. The snow melted like so many gangbusters. Only the most-shaded areas still retain their snow allocation. I can’t seem to find Mr. Biden’s Twitter identification @realJoeBiden doesn’t seem to work. Biden has put Delaware on the map. Back around 1971, I asked various US citizens to list the 49 States, because one State always gets missed — unless you happen to be Delawaren — a Delawaren being someone who is “aware” of that place.
        May your Covidesque symptoms only make you stronger (a Nietzschean sort of thing, I believe). No pandemics while Nietzsche was around.

      • I’m sturggling, Billum. No time to get anything done, now Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters have sated dying again.
        Add Fed-up, to the Frustrated.
        Still, you gave me a little written cheer there, Mon Ami.

      • So far, methinks that Pfizer is pfine. Hoping that it does not sneak any untoward side effects.
        Nicotine Neurotranslaters is wot I shall call the devices used by Nicodemus. He is known for feeding up the already frustrated
        Pleased that my written cheer was well received, mon ami. We both have deigned “making others smile” a mission statement.

      • I is voer the moon that Pfizer suited you. As the third nurse said; “With all your inderling problems, you must expect some reactions…” Some? Flibbledonkackles!
        It is essential we try to keepeth up the humour of our situations, mate.
        Not easy some days, but generally attainable, sustainable and administrable to all. (I fink).

      • Indeed. Overlying conditions have been appearing since about 1975, there were no “biologicals” (as Humira is classified) in those days — just the scalpel. You had to get opened up before they found out what was hitting yer.
        We does wot we can, does we not?
        (I fink).

      • Glad to have your lofty EQ sensing improvements. As wont I am: it’s better than a sharp stick in the eye. 🙂 My standard reference for comparing situations.
        I shall let you know how my systems react to the Humira.
        Blessings to you and to all you hold dear.

      • Good, (cough, splutter, belch) morning Billumski.

        As the Associate Professor of the RCMA Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio, I have to report a count of… wait for it… Six Red vehicles lurking last afternoon! Oh, yes!

        No sticks in the eye, thought, mate, please!

        I do hope things will accept and adapt to the Humira for you Sir.

        I look forward to a positive response. Enough of this struggling!

        Empathy and sympathy lingereth!

      • I have a vision of a new program at The Tate — a parking garage that provides free parking for visitors driving red cars. No charge for owners of red cars, who will also receive free admission to the museum.
        Could you notify the drivers of those six vehicles that The Tate appreciates their presence.
        A stick in the eye is the measure I use for “well, it could always be worse…” Fortunately, they do not suggest injection into the eyeball… 🙂
        I am getting ever closer to my Humira Injectionship. Any day now, kind Sir! I’m thinking that it might be better than a Johnson & Johnson jab. It is self-injected. Of course, I do not plan to employ it anywhere near the porcelain throne. 🙂

      • I shall passeth on your RCMS Associate Professor of the RCMA Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio, message, Sir!
        That’ll teach them to drive red cars! Hahaha!

        Humira time approaches, then, Willum! Mostest wise in not avtivating the fluid in the Porcelain Throne!

      • The Tate will probably dedicate an entire parking garage to red cars, possibly asking me to cut the ribbon to announce a new wing devoted solely to red cars. I’ll be there for ceremonial purposes, of course. Rather than fly over, I shall open a zoom page or something. They will probably send me some big bucks for arriving at the idea. 🙂

      • Hahaha! Now there is a witty, provocative, enthralling, compelling, fascinating and stimulating scenario, Billum!
        I should imagine, as the Tate cost the tax payers about $12,000.00, for the first set of bricks, the equivalent of about $56,000.00 today, your dues should be in the area of £36,000? Minimum!
        Possibly, mayhaps, they will offer you a retainer as well, oh, yes!
        Damned good idea, Sir!

        Not on this subject, but if Lisa and you could send some painkilling mist through the ether for me, that would be lovely, mates. Cartilage Cathy has kicked off at me this morning, and there have been times when I said ‘Oh, bother’, ‘Arghhh!’ and Grumblegrobbledamn! I realise that this is nothing compared to you two’s problems, but its been that long since she’s played up, I’m not coping very well. A cantation perhaps? Hahaha!

      • The Tate has become a lightning rod for critics of some questionable displays, they will likely send me a signed, otherwise blank, check. The Tatemeisters don’t need to worry about the number of big quid I enter. The larger the big quid requested, the likelier are they to honor the remuneration.
        Lisa and I are good at sending requests to the rulers of the universe for kind sirs such as yourself. Mentions of Arghhh and Grumblegrobbledamns make the request more powerfully effective. Of course, it takes quite a force to counter the damage wrought by the likes of a Cartilage Cathy!

      • That would be nice of the Tate, mate!
        You have a valid point there regarding the farcical Tate.
        Ah, Cathy (Shhh!) In a lower voice: ‘She been very kind to me so far today, Billum.’
        Have you started the injectionalising yet, Billum?
        Lisa tells me she is due her Pf vaccine, and you have had all of yours. I’m so very glad you cannt be forced into having the AstraZeneca one!
        Love and thanks ♥.

      • If the Tate is interested in piles of bricks, they can be persuaded to fund a collection of red cars.
        Good of Cathy to keep a distance (keeping a distance is the measure of our time). Six feet away from Cathy is better than smack on the cartilage.
        A week from Friday (12 March) I receive a packet of injectors in the mail.
        Lisa is scheduled for next week, but we don’t yet know if it’s with Pfizer or Moderna. As long as we know it will not be any AstraZenecas, we’re looking forward to those jabs.
        Our love to you, kindest Sir!

      • Well said, all around Billumski!
        Being AstraZeneca free, is one of the benefits ofthis life, Sir. Hehehe!
        Pound to a penny my second one will be the same (Gloom, Doom and Fear ariseseth!)
        Please to wish HRM Lisa all the bestest for me, Merci Ami.

      • I fank yer fer each valuable opine, cocker. Today marks another day of being AstraZeneca free, hehehe!
        In these parts, you hear “dollars to doughnuts” — though a doughnut always costs more than a green back.
        Fare well with the bouts of gloom, doom, and fear: not necessarily in that order but each ariseeth to claim yer with banal certitude.
        HRM Lisa wisheth yer the bestest luckage!

      • Her Majesty is a poet by dint of talent, mon ami. HRM Lisa is a guardian of poetic integrity, while I hopelessly apply inane self-made wordages, thoughtages, and adviceages.
        Billum is capable of mangling proper words into improper letter segments and sequences. The natural result of a misspent youth and willful disregard to polite modes of expressage. Billum banters words until they become fully unrecognizable. All without discipline and proper adherence to Johnson’s Dictionary — that would be Boris Johnson’s Dictionary, of course. An embarrassment to all and each wot try to speak properlike.
        TTFNski, kind Sirski
        Methinks me is thirsty for a Glengettie.

      • Poem, Rhryming or ode,
        Often cleverly told,
        Instinctivety, be blowed,
        Say what you likw now you’re old and owed!

        No, I’ve no idea what I say at times. It used to worry me, not any more. But I’ve forgot why?

        Word bantering and ripostes and sallies, be essential for sanity.

        Better bet your brew of Glengettie tea! Hehehe!

      • Poetry, rhymes, and odes — doing the right thing for a fair accounting.
        Bantering wordages, ripostes, and sallies. Arriving at the right time to do the right thing for humanity. Poems, rhymes, and odes singing for the reigns of our sanity.

        Propaganda, battle marches, and odiosity fly under a flag insane, ranting slogans inane promoting the banality of insanity.

      • The reigns of our sanity? If one could lose insanity, which one can’t, then the struggle would be pointless, in clinging on to sanity. It does it’s own thing you know… like leaving the hot water tap (faucet) running, etc. methinks.
        Yours, mentally-challenged, Inchy! Hahaha!

        I get easily confused you know,
        Not that it matters much, though,
        Life is a battle, that confuses me so,
        I doubt any logicality in me will regrow,
        But my bad memory, just lets go,
        Moods vary, up, down, more down flow,
        But, genuine best of wishes do glow,
        For HRH, the furries and you do flow…
        Have your started the injection, though?

        Bless you!

      • What a battle place does life become. There are those who would gain by any means possible. For them the battle place is every place and their victims is every one whom they meet there. No one is treated fairly in their game.
        When I meet someone at any place, I don’t seek out weak points or places where advantage may fall my way. I greet them as a fellow being whom I simply have not yet met, but whom I know that I’ve always known. What can I do for you instead of what can I do to you, those are the grounds for genuine sanity and a betterer world.

      • As long as yer don’t let the bastards take control of yer life, there is a chance to find yourself at a betterer day, Sir!
        Me fanks to yer, Sir.

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