Month: May 2022

Inchcock’s Monday, 30th May 2022

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

MORNING THOUGHT STORMS ODE

ThoughtStorms attack when I’m not at my best…
Vulnerable, trying to sleep, or feeling undistressed,
The brain, with guilt, and fear, brings self-disgust…
I always get myself uptight and newly distressed…
There are no faults or mistakes that can’t be accessed!
Within minutes, I always become depressed!

The torrents of self-hate cannot be suppressed,
Regurgitated mistakes, from the first to the latest…
Minor, severe and the most pleasantest…
They even dig-up long gone thoughts, the absurdest,
Accepting the blame, taking it on the chin & chest…
I find it often less painful and the wisest!

DEMENTIA DOREEN ODE

I’ve considered booking a visit with a Gerontologist…
But I’d probably forget, and the appointment was missed!
As I did the other month with the dentist,
And every appointment with the chiropodist…
Oh, and last appointment with the urologist,
Can I get help from a witch doctor or voodooist?

Hot & cold water taps (faucets) left running,
Food forgot about cooking, burnt… burning,
Falls that leave me bruised and bleeding…
As for my decision-making, I call it dithering!
My concentration and memory constantly withering…
Vascular Dementia Doreen can be most gruelling!

AILMENTS ODE

Thought-Storms, can be depressing and belittling,
Falls on the sock glide, and I need disentangling…
Cataracts: things often walked into and banging,
Toe Stubbing daily; in fact, at this, I am excelling!
Peripheral neurotransmitters unfortunately dying,
Encouraging the odd right leg wobble and dancing…
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley has the torso flailing…

Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, need overhauling,
Mechanic ticker, my fungal lesion, need sorting…
Arthur Itis, Cartilage Kathy, need medicationalisationing…
Glaucoma Gladys, too, and my belching needs muzzling…
Bladder cancer, which can cause havoc wee-weeing!
The old hearing aids can be a little niggling,
But most of all, I could do with my brain recycling!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

MONDAY 30th MAY 2022

03:15hrs: For the umpteenth time, I sprang into wakefulness. Pondered on getting up, I passed wind and belched, and then I nodded again.

Waking the next time, with the usual jerking and jumping, at 05:25hrs. My mind was confused before I got out of the £300 second-hand c1968 recliner to catch my balance; What day is it? Who’s calling today… is anyone. I think there is… As I rose, got dressed, and found myself in the kitchen, making up some waste bags?

I think I was talking aloud to myself as I suddenly decided to get the ablutions tended to. Off to the wet room with the towel from the airer…

I hit my shoulder on the way through the door; my spatial awareness was obviously impaired this morning. Even as Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, I took this in my stride. Even started getting back interest and concentration. But the lackadaisicalness remained. I felt almost laid-back and unconcerned, accepted that things would happen, and saw no point worrying about something? (Not me, at all, what’s was going on here?) No shaving cuts, Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun visits. As I was towelling off, I even remembered that my precious Hristina was on her way to take the DVT blood sample, and the Iceland order was coming twixt 8>10:00hrs.

I finished the waste bag  I’d started earlier and got the computer on. The WordPress blogger was still not letting me open the comments from the editor. Again my outlook changed… I surprised myself at how annoyed I became?

Oh, dearie me, what a messy visit to the Throne it was! Again, it felt like it would be challenging to get the movement started, so I  got the crossword book from the floor cabinet.

How wrong I was! After annoying myself further by failing to make progress with the crossword puzzle, the sloppy mess of an evacuation almost squirted out all over the place. It took me ages to get the area and myself cleaned up, and I was getting hotter under the collar all the time. I became fuming! I went from laid-back to apprehensive, insecure and somewhat pissed off with things?

I was now getting more flummoxed than angry! Changed my PPs (Protection Pants) Confusion Conrad was in charge.

I went back onto the computer and got some photographs loaded. The card reader working seemed to raise my up and down spirits a smidgeon when it let me get them on. This on the right is from last night; I got up at one of the spring awakes to take it.

What was going on with my mood swings? I didn’t understand. But I was whistling to myself as I took this snap of the end car park on Chestnut Way, just beyond Woodthorpe Court. I caught a moving vehicle today! Hehe!

I got the Blood-Pressure and temperature taken. Fair results on the Boot’s all Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, showed a very low reading this Monday morning (Well. it would do, it’s Monday – Hahaha!), at 34°c.

I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and ♫ Oh, Susana.. ♫ rang from the door chime. It was my new pal and Carer, Richard. I got him a cold drink to help him cool down; the lad has Diabetes, and sweats all the time, Bless him. A right pair we are; Richard is sweating while I am shivering. Hehe! He looked tired and said he’d not gotten much sleep during his couple of days off. Poor lad! He wasn’t moaning, just answering when I asked him how he’s been sleeping. Rich got the medications sorted and watched me take them, so I didn’t drop any. Then made the wristlet alarm check call for me. I wanted to natter away with him, but I could see he was all in, so I resisted.

After the man had departed, I went on the Google calendar. To check for anything I might have forgotten about. Or put on the wrong day and or time. Haha! Hehehe! I’ve just seen how funny that must have sounded, me; forgetting something… there’s almost a guarantee that I will! I got onto the Sunday blog, updated it, and posted it to WordPress. My gumption seems to have been lifted somewhat by seeing Richard, my Lionheart Carer. If he’s feeling better tomorrow, we can have a better nattering session.

Hello, I think someone above it having some repairs done. A lot of drilling and hammering noises started. Had a wee-wee.

Off to the wet room, I hobbled. I was bending down to retrieve a pencil I’d dropped, and as I wobbled down towards it… a warm damp sensation emanated from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion’s location inside the PPs! Only a tiny spot of bleeding; I was most surprised that it registered with the brain…

An unexpected case of, I got myself washed yet again, freshened up the wee-wee-sprayed legs, and put the trousers in soak. On my removing the pants to put new ones on, what had happened became embarrassingly apparent. It’s a good life innit old age! However, I coped with it pretty calmly, especially compared to how things were earlier in the morning! In fact, I adopted a well deserved.

I was doing the top ode for this blog, and ♫ Oh, Susana.. ♫ rang from the door chime. This time it was heaven-sent Hristina. The DVT haematology nurse comes to take my blood sample for the Warfarin test. Now my spirits were at their peak for the day!

I’d let her down, though. I’d let Dementia Doreen allow me to throw away the wrong part of last week’s assessment and dosages record. She was so sweet about it, though. It caused her to be delayed a while, having to make up a new one. Selfishly, it gave my eyes a little longer to cast over her beauty… Getting carried away there, sorry!

The free Iceland delivery arrived. And the man out the carriers in the doorway for me. But, after getting them through to the kitchenette to sort out, I found a few things that I was not too happy about. I had ordered three 500g bags of small Jersey new potatoes… This above on the right is what they substituted them with: Three 2.5kg bags of potatoes! Is that not 25 times more spuds than I ordered? Hailing Professor Bill Ziegler, in Lab 28, at Manor Laboratories Time Machine Creation wing! (He has a slide rule, you see!), and Tim Price in New Mexico (He has a Mac computer!) for help. And neither of them suffers from Arithmophobia, like wot I do. Hehehe!

However, they also had no (6) sliced bread rolls (£1). But substituted rolls of four rolls that were 2 for £1, charging 85p! I think? Anyway,  they also sent Moroccan tomatoes. That was my own fault (Doreen Dementia, perhaps?) for forgetting how foul they tasted last time I got some! I suppose I could put them out for the rats, but I’m not that cruel! The Strawberries, 3 for £5, two had a day’s life, the other today’s date! They had some beefburger cobs for Richard’s treats on the plus side.

The fridge was looking fuller now, at least. Some stuff is inedible, like the killer tomatoes from Morocco. You’d have laughed seeing me try to make room in the freezer for the potato chips to get in. I distinctly remember being dubious over which of the two packets above to buy, and at the time of my ordering, I realised that there would only be room for one. I thought I’d only ordered one of them… Dementia Doreen again?

After spending several hours writing and amending my mistakes on this blog, I decided it was time to get some nosh… Great balls of fire! It’s 17:00hrs already!!!! The evening carer will be here soon! Gotten Himmel, where did the day go?

Hehe! I took a picture of the evening sky before it started getting dark. Please tell me you can see an animal in the clouds… this was probably noticed with the help of Cataract Kathleen, with support from Glaucoma Gladys.

I made an order for Morrisons to save having it at the weekend. I hope I can get the chips into the fridge… that’s the real reason I ordered this: the fresh curry battered chips. They tasted fantabulous! Guilty!

Got the nosh sorted out. I halved the potatoes I boiled earlier and got them in the oven to crisp off. There are a few crappy, horrible halved Moroccan tomatoes (Eurgh!), the last veg burger, and the last honey yoghourt. It was not too good. Taste 3.3/10.

I was just finishing with the meal, and ♫ Oh. Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came Carer Valerie. Val got the medications sorted, and I took them. I’m glad it was Val cause O could give her one of the massive bags of potatoes that Iceland overloaded me with and know they will not go to waste. The other one is for Richard in the morning, that is, if he wants it, of course. (Well, it seemed a good idea? Hehe!) Thanked Valerie; she took the waste bag as she left; bless her.

Then, the most dubious mission of the day… Trying to get and stay asleep! Mission impossible? Yes, it was! I put the TV on, there was nothing to watch, but that didn’t matter. Usually, I nod off during the commercial breaks, which I did on just about every one of them for three hours, but I only slept for a few minutes, and I shot back awake all the time (of the three hours). Sweet Morpheus was in a proper cantankerous mood!

Memo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit!

Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sun 29th May 2022

/ Inchie / 38 Comments
SUNDAY ODE

Advice For Whippersnappers – Part 2⅑th

Do no harm, don’t be lethiferous…
Try to avoid being fatuitous…
Resist acting violent, gratuitous,
If you have a win, it will be deciduous,
Good and bad things can be fortuitous…
You’ll seem at times fatuitous, bodacious,
When in the pub… you’ll appear streperous,
But at work, try to appear assiduous…
To try to cover for your hebetudinous,
Avoid drugs that make you feel somniferous,
Have a drink by all means, but don’t get stocious…
I used to do that, but in the morning, I felt atrocious!
Keep taking Covid-test; you can still be viruliferous!
That way, you can avoid capriciousness…
When you get arrested, do not show facetiousness!
And always remember life’s ephemeralness!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

SUNDAY 29th MAY 2022

04:45hrs: Notwithstanding only getting three hours kip, I woke up with the usual jolt but feeling a lot perkier than usual. I went all industrial: Wee-wee, then dressed, and I did the medicationalisationing.

The thigh veins looked so very much improved, and I moved on to washing the tootsies, which were also looking much improved, in the bowl on the floor. Neither of them found their way onto the SDH card? That’s a good start, I muttered to missen! Through to the kitchen to make a Glengettie brew and took a couple of snaps of the red sky this morning.

Soon got the computer on to update yesterday’s blog. But of course, the $23 million a year salaried Mr Fries, boss of Liberty-Global, who bought out Virgin Media for $18 billion, still can’t get a signal to Nottingham that even pretends to be reliable.

So, very annoying!

So, I gave up and went to try to take more photographs of the view from the kitchen window. Hopefully, they will be a success this time. Especially as the sky had reddened more now. I must say they looked almost like a couple of water paintings. Bootiful! And they went on the SDH card this time.

I spent a few moments perusing for figures in the clouds, pareidoliaing. I think there was a face in the lower of the photographs? But I could be wrong… I’m very often wrong, you know. It’s a natural gift I have. Glaucoma Gladys, SAccdes Sandra and Cataract Kathie don’t help.

Back onto the internet. I must send Fries a congratulatory email to get a signal through.

WordPress had the same problem as it started yesterday. I cannot access the comments when I’m on editing, My Home or reading? If I click on the question mark, which is not always there, as you see in this snap of the computer screen, I can sometimes get the list up? Fed up with this!

Started to update yesterday’s blog and altered the ode in it, which, on reflection, was not a good idea. I got carried away on Word Hippo to get some new rhymings that were suitable… three hours later… ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chirped from the doorbell. Cheeky Charley came this morning to do me. Lovely chirpy lass, But the poor gal was not her usual self. Not offhand or anything like that, but seemed a little down; bless Her!

As I pressed on with the blog again, a rumbling from the innards had me hastening to the Porcelain Throne. A lot of painful effort was needed to complete the evacuation, and I had a go at the crossword book while waiting. I also spotted that the condition of the feet and lower legs had improved an awful lot this morning? Not complaining, like! Not as messy as yesterday.

The noise from above was barely noticeable. I hope that the disdainful, dismissive lad is not poorly or in pain.

I got around to drinking my first mug of tea of the day, and it was coming up to midday! I had made four mugs of tea, a Glengettie, Thompson’s Punjana, and now a Thompson’s Signature tea. I let go cold all the others – not on purpose, of course. I allowed myself half of my new daily ration of chocolate with the tea, two squares from a block of milk chocolate. Hehe!

I went through h to the kitchenette to wash the mug and found my feet sticking to the floor! I’d spilt some of the chilli-con-carne, I think, earlier when I was prepping Josie’s Sunday nosh. I bravely decided it needed a good sweep and mopping session…

I got the old spinning mop bucket out of the wet room, freshened the round disc mop, and cleaned the floor. On the heavy press pedal as I was spinning it for the first time! Not sure how I managed it, but it shot back up on me, and off came my foot?

Naturally, it didn’t affect me. A man of my heroic nature, cool, calm and concentrated. With a proclivity for remaining composed, unruffled, and in complete control of myself, at all times. I was totally unruffled… Well, erm, maybe…

I checked on Josie’s meal and moved some of the Chilli Con Carne into a plastic bowl so she’d have enough for a second nosh later on.

Then got on with the mopping of the kitchenette floor. I made sure it was well dried, in case I had to go back in urgently to check on the food cooking for any reason… Now that’s something I seem to be getting short of lately… sense! Hehehe!

Sent off the Saturday blog and made a start on this one. Then sorted Josie’s tray out for her.

Some nibbles and a can of G & T. I actually remembered that she gave me that look last week when I gave her a can of… Oh, what was it? Woo-Woo or Mojito, I think. I think I’ll go into a Smug-Mode again… There you are! Hahaha!

I delivered the meal on time again and got an approving look as she inspected the can of G & T. She said she was on the phone with a friend, so I didn’t keep her.

As I entered the flat, I noticed the three waste bags still there laying on the box. Not taken to the chute for me. But it gave me a bit of exercise. I made another one and popped them all into the chute. However…

Coming out of the room, I had a minuscule, short involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance. It only lasted a few seconds, but the timing was not good as I closed the door. Ah, well!

I turned the oven on and got some updating done on this blog. Took a break to make another mug of tea… I’m determined to get one drunk today! Took a distance and close up pictures of the beautiful looking sky.

The zoomed-n shot was not up to much, inferior quality. But taking it, I was sure I’d captured a figure of a face… but no! Tsk!

I had convoluted to get to look and the WordPress comments.

I’ll get my chips in the oven now; they should be hot enough. Sat and nodded for a few minutes, then got up and searched around for the missing magnifying glass, which had not been seen for months, and the mysterious hidden-away somewhere headphones. No luck with either!

Got my nosh sorted out and served up. The new Morrison’s beer-battered chips were not to my liking. A Flavour raring of 6/10 was the most I could give it. All else was okay. Whenceforth, I’ll try to get only the curry-flavoured ones. But they substitute such a lot. Hence the beer battered, which I did not order.

I was just about to nod off after eating what I did of the plateful, and the ♫ Oh, Susana… ♫, the Evening Carer arrived. Got the meds sorted and was off in a flash. Bless her! No waste bags; I took them myself earlier when the morning gal missed taking them.

Bill Ziegler, I like his style of writing and humour. I checked to see if any comments had come in and replied to them. Then Facebook catch-up… a lot had to be done.

Head down in search of sleep… and, importantly, staying asleep! Well, that was a failure…

Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sat 28th May 2022

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

MEANDERING MORNING ODE

That should be befuddlement. Ahem!

Looking Back…
In my 20’s, I was known for my efficient fecundity…
Now due to Doreen’s Dementia, I fear discongruity,
I was fit, capable, popular, lit up a room fulgently…
The mind and body fail, leaving inefficacity,
I was praised for my willpower and social feracity!
Now, I am full of inconsequentiality, inferiority,
Decisions were made, taken almost nonchalantly…
Now my brain’s shared twixt dormancy, quiescently,
The few decisions I make now, I do negligently!

The Ailments…
The ailments increasing, I try to meet acceptingly.
When they first started, I reacted rather petulantly…
Some of the new ones give me hassle persistently,
Glaucoma Gladys, Cartilage Cathy & Cataract Kathy,
One that can be nasty is Peripheral Neuropathy…
Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters can have me falling,
Deaf Duane in both ears, Duodenal Donald, appalling!
Saccades Sandra, makes me see blurry,
The ankle gives way after the Stroke every day.
Hard to keep my balance, but I recover gradually…
The jumping away can have me off of the settee!

On Reflection…
There’s no benefit in moaning and grumbling,
If you’re going to go over, it’s only tumbling…
How hard and where you fall can leave you bleeding…
But a scrape and a bruise is the likeliest thing…
Somehow, I get through them without hospitalising,
I must have had more luck without realising…
At five, I was thrown into the canal, nearly drowning,
I’ve been shot twice and got a battering…
How I’m still here is somewhat baffling…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

SATURDAY 28TH MAY

04:20hrs: After so many jumping awakes, I had my last one. I was fed up with not sleeping for more than ten minutes or so and got up for a wee-wee. Which proved to be the reason I stayed up…

① Getting the jammie bottoms untied to whip them down, I got in a right mess. The waste cord knot was not to be unknotted!

② There I was, fumbling to get the cord untied, and the pre-dribbling started! The embarrassment and panic of the warm wet sensation trickling down my inner legs and jammies made unlocking the knot even harder to get done… I gave up and forced things down… But there was worse to come…

③ I felt the pain as I got over the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), and the bladder was hurting. It felt, to me, like a torrent as if a fireman’s hosepipe was being released… But no! On closer inspection, it was barely trickling, and what bit was coming out sprayed all over the place! But there was worse to come…

④ I saw the blood on my hands as I manipulated things to avoid my having splashes on the carpet.

⑤ Yes, Little Inches Fungal Lesion was bleeding; I suppose all the rushing and pulling to get the cord freed. A little naughty language was uttered. But there was more to come…

⑥ Due to the mixture of waste liquid and blood, I wiggled more than walked with the bucket to get it emptied and sanitised. As I got in the kitchen, I stubbed my toe on the server trolley wheel. But there was still more to come…

⑦ After cleaning the bucket, and getting another one with Dettol disinfectant, to clean up the overspray and spillages in the front room, I turned and knocked the Dettol bottle off the side of the sink. I’ve known one of those plastic bottles to split open before! Cleaned it up, and as if a robot… a disheartened robot, went to clean the front room. Which I managed without any further bother… until…

⑧ I went to take the jammies off and soak them in disinfectant and washing powder. And the need to visit the Porcelain Throne arrived. I wasn’t done with cock-ups yet…

⑨ I knocked my toe against the clothes airer’s wheel, and it was possibly the most excruciating stub ever! I could feel the bile rising now!

⑩ I got in and down on the seat, watching the blood drip from Little Inchies lesion, but there was no pain coming from it? More confusion! The evacuation was reluctant to start, so O got the cream and washed and ointmentated the lesion as I waited for the action to start, back onto the Throne. A sudden spurt, and it was all over in seconds… But what a mess to clean up! Almost liquid! So, I got on with the job, rinsed the jammie bottoms and put them back in a fresh bucket of antiseptic. Then I cleaned my nether regions and got new PPs (Protection Pants).

The relief when I’d got everything sorted was phenomenal. I even think I started singing… Cliff Richard’s ♫’The Young Ones’♫. I believe it was the first one.

I’d come out of it well, really. Apart from the fungal lesion now starting to hurt and Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging. The stubbed toe had died down, and I put the kettle on.

Self-Satisfied…

That was a rather nasty, severe start to the day,
Believe it or not, the memory is now far away…
I coped and managed, my recovery well underway,
In fact, I’m pleased with myself, I can honestly say!
I got through it all, my depression flewaway!
Mind you, I’m expecting the next coming malady…
There are bound to be more, as there is every day,
No signs of my moaning-mopes left or paranoia!
But the wee-wees stay, frequently with overspray…
I genuinely think this may be a better Saturday!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –.

I got on the computer and loaded the pictures for yesterday’s blog updating and got it done. Very late now, and no carer yet? Ah, it’s the weekend, I forgot. Usually late Sat and Sun.

I took some photos, but the SD reader has gone on strike again, Humph!

Aha! This morning’s Carer was Sara! I was already cheered up with the disasters of this morning finishing; this gave me an extra boost in spirits, Sarah coming. A lovely gal likes a natter, and she is responsive. ☻♥ Got the medications sorted; Sarah always watches me take them if I drop any or one comes back up. She knows I’d likely not see or notice if they did, Bless her. I wish they all did that.

I said my farewells, and my mood lowered a smidgeon when she left, but it was still higher than for ages. I had considered going into a Smug-Mode with getting through the early morning cacophony of cock-ups… but resisted,

I’d better go on the WordPress Reader and comment section now.

How disappointing… Makes me sick!

.

Can’t get on WordPress Comments or save owt! I gave up and got some nosh made. Battered red potato fritters, tomatoes, veg burger and banana to follow. The cakes were too sweet for my taste, but I ate them all. Rated: 7.2/10.

My luck really is changing from this morning. Went to get the ablutions tended to; better late than never. Just one cut shaving, nowt serious, and few dropsies (razor x 2, toothbrush, loofah, and short-picker-upperer), but I had the short picker-upperer to hand. No knocks, dizziness, headbangs, toe-stubbing, Shaking-Shauns, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or shoulder charging the door frame!

Got dressed so I looked reasonably sane for when the Carer called. (I’ve made a vow not to be naked. Topless or bottomless again, when a nurse or Carer arrives! I’ve been caught with no trousers on by Nicola and no top on by Valerie up to now – Tsk!) I can lock the door and strip off after whoever comes has gone.

I tried the computer again, and it let me load some photographs to my delight. But VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen) is making it hard for me to recall the time when I took them, although some are obvious. I got them into CorelDraw to resize. And…

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in walked the evening Carer, Sarah (With an H). She soon sorted the medications, and I insisted she take a tipple and a nibble in; thanks to her. Which she did and took the waste bag out to the chute for me on her way

I locked the door and stripped off, feeling much easier now. Funny how all the cock-ups were got rid of in the early hours today; I’m pleased with that! Then got the photos; some I could remember were put on roughly chronologically. Others I’ll show here:

Rescued Photographs…

Obviously, I must have taken these two in the early hours, although I can’t remember taking them now?

VDD playing me up again. I suppose it is possible I got up during the night to take these? They cost me a lot of time tweaking to get them to be recognisable as what they are.

A mid-morning picture of the end car park on Chestnut Way, mayhaps, taken from the balcony, no doubt. I vaguely recall not being able to open the spring lock on the window and taking it through the glass pane.

I’m sure I had a paranoia moment with this one. I think I could see a face in the central cloud, but it seems to be hiding from me now. Such a shame. I could see a face and a monster in it on the right with this effort. At the time, I think another animal, but that too had been removed by VDD (Vascular Dementia Doreen). This last one of the trio on the left, which held several pairs of eyes and noses when I took it, still does, but somehow far fewer are found?

Ah, the expensive sweet potato battered fritters meal. I did eat it all. But the oversweetness of the potatoes took the edge off it. I already wrote about this, haven’t I? Humph!

Proof of my dedication to losing some fat from my midriff area. Where folds of fat, as it wobbles at the slightest movement. This on the left; was my last inside photograph taken today. It shows my bravely self-imposed limit; I’m allowing myself to nibble chocolate! With crumbs dropped from my nocturnal nibblings in the £300 second-hand, ageing, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, cling in the channels of blubber.

No more supposedly well-intended, opening a bar of chocolate, working on the computer, thinking, “Ah, I’ll have another lump of that chocolate” – and finding it had all gone! No More – Never-Again! I have complete faith in my determination to lose weight from my substantively gross belly! Four pieces maximum from now on!

Sleep was stubborn and refused to allow me to nod off. Sweet Morpheus teased me as it got later, and would permit me to drift off, then minutes late startle into wakefulness with a jump! So, I got up and pottered about in the kitchen, taking photos of the changing evening view from the kitchenette window. I spotted some figures in clouds, particularly in the second photo. Not that I can see it now. Humph! Thanks, Doreen Dementia! The close up I took of the orange ribbon of light did not come out very well at all. But I’ve put it on anyway. To show the changing views on offer tonight. The last effort, about ten minutes after the one before, I did like it. Had more contrasting hues and colours, I thought. Back into the recliner, hoping to sleep…

But, Oh, No! Not a chance. So I looked at what was on the TV, and ‘Sudden Impact’, a Dirty Harry film with Clint Eastwood, was just starting. During the first set of commercials, I got some chip-sticks and a bottle of spring water to feast on, got back in the c1968 second-hand recliner, and settled to watch and enjoy the film. I love it when the goodies win! As the next set of adverts came on… Zzzz!

Inchcock Diary & Odes, Fri 27th May 2022

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

Diary & Odes

Blotchy-Faced?

INCHIES MORNING ODE

I looked in the mirror last night; a terrible sight!
It was as if I’d been battered in a fistfight,
Blotches, pale eyes, a depression, it did incite…
How do I get into this mentally-inspired plight?
The physical ailments, I’m coping with them alright…
Although some of them can at times be a fight…
Cataracts, neuropathy, deaf, etc. have ruined my rike,
I’ve no confidence left; I feel like a troglodyte!

Was my being born an accident or oversight?
Mother ran away, was the start of my many a fike…
In social interactions, at 76, I’m still a neophyte…
Which doesn’t explain why my eyes and skin are so white?
The red patches remind me of the pox and bryophyte…
But I’m going to stop worrying… well, I might…
Things come to me, ailments, fears and many a blight…
What future I’ve left is not looking too bright!

I need to do something, like mind-defragging,
Free the tension, keep the tongues from wagging,
Cause it’s no use hiding and camouflaging…
My failures, incompetency and my not belonging!
My faults in the future, I’ll be acknowledging,
I’ll start with cutting out the foul language and effing…
Cut down my time blogging and cybersurfing!
From overeating, I’ll start abstaining,
Why do all that, you may be asking?
I can’t remember now, and that’s alarming!

YOU CAN TELL HE IS CHEERING UP A BIT, CAN’T YOU

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Friday 27th May

04:30hrs: I woke with the usual jump but soon regained all possible control (Which was not a lot) of my brain. And responded niftily to the call from Bladder Blair for a wee-wee.

Washed and made a brew of Thompsons’ Signature tea. Got on the computer and started to get the photos on.

These on the right are from last evening after I’d got the nosh consumed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

But I kept getting up again to photograph the sky.

Resettled but dozed for half an hour and shot wide awake again. Humph!

And the glow from the sky was coming through the curtain. I just had to, and I did, get up yet again to take these three pictures on the left of the evening late sunsetting.

These were a lot more colourful than the earlier ones.

The first one I took and made was while making a brew of Glengettie tea. By the time I’d made the mug, the rain had stopped, and the whole sky had changed colour with some interesting orange-hued puffer clouds near the horizon.

Mother nature never seems to stop amazing me.

I started to update the Wednesday/Thursday blog. Then within minutes, I had to return to the wet room, in need of the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

A messy Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation again, but not as bad as yesterday. Not one of my better ones! I opted to get the ablutions done while I was in there.

The teeth bled; I dropped the razor and banged my shoulder on the sink, bending down to retrieve it. Then proceeded to give me several cuts shaving, under the chin, the ear-hole, and…wait for this… my left index finger! Then as I looked in the shaving mirror as I was cleaning it, I saw the blotches all over my face! Worra state! And the eye sockets looked proper pink?

Carer Valerie arrived. She got the medications sorted out, and we managed a little natter between us. And Val took the laundry with her and the waste bag, saying as Arni did… “I’ll be back!” Hehe!

I went back onto the blog and got it finished and posted off. Pinterested some photos and got on Facebook catch-up.

Then the Amazon Morrison order arrived. A lovely foreign lady, polite and sociable gal, bless her cotton socks. Three items were out of stock. And the onion chips were substituted with curry chips. Not sure that I will be keen on them, but, you never know, they might taste alright for me. At least I got the red potato fritters and one of the three battered chips I wanted.

Then, I got the things sorted and stored. There didn’t seem much to go in the freezer, which was just as well cause there was no room in the drawers anyway. I did get a loaf of bread in.

The fridge didn’t look anywhere as near full as usual after a delivery? Was I getting good and ordering less?

Well, no, not really. Why the heck I ordered a packet of Thompson’s Signature tea bags? I don’t know. I’ve got six packages of Thompson’s Punjana, two of J Sainsbury Red label extra strong, and a box of Glengettie in stock already? Oh, and a bix of Co-op 99 as well!

I got the flower treats that should have been coming on Monday for today. My EQ told me to. There will be something occurring on Monday medically, mayhaps, he tells me? I rang Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell her they were here, and when she came later, she kindly took a bunch to Francis for me. I can’t recall their names, but there were two different types. She had a choice of whichever she fancied.

I returned to finish off the Facebooking and then comments on WordPress. I got a call from my precious Hristina, the Warfarin DVT blood nurse; she will be calling twixt 10-1200hrs on Monday for the following test sample. I added it to the Google calendar. Got the Blood Pressure figured out. A bit high this morning. But this does happen now and then; it may have been with me hearing Hristina’s voice?

The body temperature was low, but nowt to worry about.

Carer Valerie returned the laundry for me. Thanked her, and off she went. I visited the junk room to hang the clothes. I was disappointed in the state of the jammie bottoms, all creased up, one leg inside out. One long-sleeved tee shirt was the same with the arms. The trousers were crunched up and creased. I must try to get Meridian to stop doing the washing for me… and paying them!

The tap tapping and noises that sounded like something metal-like being dropped kicked off. Still, he’s been quiet up till now.

Made an order for Iceland next week. Then got the nosh sorted. Oh, Boy, were those curried potato chips tasty! Yes, they were! Buttered mushroom pate sarnies, gherkins, red and orange tomatoes. A banana to follow and a worthy 8.3/10 for taste! Lovely!

I got settled to await the arrival of the evening carer, who was a smidge late, not that it mattered. I started to watch a Heartbeat episode, and every few minutes, I’d nod off for a couple of minutes, wake up, and off again. Most aggranoying, as I’d not seen this episode before. Tsk!

The evening carer arrived, medicated me, and asked if the laundry was ready to collect. I said that Valerie had done it this morning. A nibble and can of plonk were selected, and she took the waste bag with her.

Locked the door and got settled to watch the second episode of Heartbeat on the box. But, No! I kept nodding off again and shooting awake after a few minutes, only to drift off again and repeat the procedure?

Somehow I did manage to nod off, but it was hours later.

My much blotchy pot-marked face,
A sign of age, rotting and decays?
To be expected, I think nowadays…
Like wee-weeing in spurts and sprays.
Or losing memories that fade and stray…
Along with confusing, baffling thought waves…
Needing a kip each day, before midday…
Recalling when one was alive, in one’s heyday,
You’re looking towards the next pension day,
Coping with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley…
Deaf, cataracts, depression Monday to Sunday…

My excrescences, give me haute couture,
If that’s the word, I’m not really sure…
I wonder if the Tate would make a sculpture?
I’d like to be a giver, cheerer-upperer, enricher…
Or an MP, maybe even a frontbencher?
Perhaps best, if I stay as this demented old failure,
Although I’m sadly an incompetent botcher…
A harmless old fart who’s into pareidolia…
Awaiting St Peter’s greeting as he says, ‘Gotcha!’
Possibly, my brain may have caught paranoia?

Trying is the first step toward failure!

Inchcock Photographs & Odes: Wed-Thur 26-27th May 2022

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022

Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?

The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!

BP is fine again.

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫

My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!

A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,

I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!

Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…

Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!

You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?

This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!

THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022

Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.

Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.

The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!

And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…

Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!

All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!

MedPhorpainNeedless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.

I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.

I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.

When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!

Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!

I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!

I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!

I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.

Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!

I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.

The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?

A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.

I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.

Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.

Ode To Hope

Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Local News Snippets – Part 23⅞ths

/ Inchie / 20 Comments

Will justice ever be seen again?

Will murderers ever are executed, slain,
Although hanging is looked upon with disdain,
Are all MPs against it? I can’t ascertain…
Convicted to life in prison, they should remain,
In prison, it’s easy for them to get cocaine!
Many have broken out again and again!
The injustice of the legal system drives me insane,
Execution will never return; is it concrete, certain…
Then again, in a few years, although by then inane…
People will realise life on earth we cannot sustain!
Too many people to feed will cause our destruction,

We have to urgently reduce the world’s population,
3 million murders a day, and we lock them away,
Feed them, medicate them… well, this is no way…
I suggest we use the skills of our local electrician,
To electrocute murderers or try decapitation?
Get rid of the scumbags that infest our Nation,
And remove their breeding stick; that’ll do the trick!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Local News Snippets – Part 23⅞ths

We’ll start off with a report on the Covid pox,
I imagine there’ll be more soon on the monkeypox…
Or maybe one on the return of chickenpox?
But first, we’ve Covid yet, outfox,
First, I’ve got to get my head around Firefox,
Then when time, I’ve got Germoloid my buttocks,
While Nottingham scum work out the new car locks,
I must order some new diabetic kneesocks…
Then get through the day full of shocks and shlocks,
I’m waffling again; sorry if I got you in a flummox!

Released on bail, it makes me wail…
So he can get more drugs and ale?
Didn’t know what it was, his conditional bale…
Tell him not to drive? That’s a fairytale…
Not to get drunk, on spirits or impale a female?
He mustn’t run away to Wensleydale?
I’m guessing, him responding to his bale? A dwale!

Blimey, reminds me of my mother. Regretfully!

Yet another one does a runner!
Parole boards’ reputation gets murkier!
Deterrents for crime get flimsier,
Scumballs are getting treated kindlier?
Escapees are getting more regular…
None-returnees are getting cunninger…
And I’m definitely getting portlier!
That’s nowt to do with escaper…
Who’s a  naughty boy and a fibber!

One thought appeals. Best not say!

Despite my total lack of winning anything gambling-wise, for about 62-years now – I anticipate and expect a win of some sort shortly. Surely?

See his sneer? He’s got no fear…
He may well like it up the rear,
Will he settle in the nick? Or disappear?
Things happen, and he may even get leerier?
I’d sooner he dies slowly, contracts malaria,
He can be educated on how to be friendlier…
Be good if another prisoner went for his jugular!

Learn summat new every day!

Gorrum!

 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Proletariats from all around the land, Bless them…
Cheltenham, Birmingham, Nottingham or West Ham,
Wherever; realise that MPs & the law are a sham…
Anytime now, expects riots with a wham!

Inchcock Diary, Tuesday 24th May 2022 – With Ode to Life

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

TUESDAY 24th MAY 2022

Ode To Life – Part 33⅔rds

I’d have loved to have written my verse cleverly…
Be intelligent, superior, educated, and academically!
Blend words in rhyme that folk view as appreciatory,
But Doreen’s Dementia makes me do it clumsily…
Not that the comments sound exactly derogatory…
My viewers’ total is abysmal, or worse, evidently,

I try not to write this blog grouchily…
Make it fun, folks, to read it happily…
I may, at times, add things that sound grumpy,
That’ll be of Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Though sometimes, to me, the reality is illusory…
And I’ve never ever won the lottery!

Like now, my plots and thoughts have gone hazy?
This can happen for days at a time, not momentarily,
Semi-logic can return, within a few days, ordinarily,
But of course, please remember this is not obligatory,
During my brain’s down-times, there’s still diversity…
Trying to control it brings much lachrymosity!

I often dream of acquiring omnipotency…
Of course, I can’t, so carry in my impecuniosity…
It’s not just money & wealth, of which I have a scarcity!
But also suasion, wisdom, rationality, logicality…
Folks tell me, I have endless inconsequentiality?
I think this is similar to insignificance or banality?
No doubt, I need help mentally… and exigently!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TUESDAY MORNING

04:35: Rose for a wee-wee. Kettle on, sorted waste bags. Had a rinse, got partly dressed, and got the kettle on.

Getting dressed, I thought it looked like the right leg’s foot was darker than the left leg? But mustn’t complain, cause the rest of the leg and ankle looked far better than yesterday!

Took off the pad from yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test and could not help bus picture my beautiful, precious, and pretty beloved Haematology nurse Hristina in my mind! ♥

Sphygmomanometerisationing was done next. The SYS was up 26 points to 140, DIA up by 2 to 63, and the Pulse had fallen somewhat to 77. Checked on the NHS site; The Ideal is between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm). That means it must have been high spot on, indeed perfect, for several weeks. The body temperature was well down again, low for several days; according to the NHS, 35°c is the optimum?

I got on the computer, and my brain froze. What I was doing, I had no idea, really. This has happened now and then since the stroke. It can often last for a few hours, like waking up, but with no memory of the period of blankness. I named them Mind-Blanks. Then you worry about what you’ve been getting up to! It only lasted about an hour or so, I think. It seemed that I had started another blog template and been working on the wrong one. I really got annoyed when I discovered this! I swore at myself, and I wanted to give up!

Richard the Carer arrived, and it helped pull me around. Not that I wasn’t still a little miffed ant the Mind-Blank happening. Even though it hasn’t happened for a week or two. I think? Rich’ got the Alert Alarm battery checked and gave me my medications. As we had a much-missed chinwagging session, I went to put the mini-hoover back on its charger and…

As I was bent down to reach the socket, Neuropathy Pete instructed his neurotransmitters to give me a flailing leg dance! I dropped the mini-hoover (I hope I’ve not broken anything), and I clung dearly to the electric shelf. It was all over within a few minutes, and no rumblings or injuries. That was due to Carer Richard’s quick response in getting to me in time. I’m pretty sure (although it was a short affair, it was brutal while it lasted) that it would have had me over had I been on my own.

Two cameras, a remote, and the SDH card reader have given up on me in the last few days. Mind-Blanks, Leg Dances, Dizzies, Falls and tumbles are getting more frequent. Doreen’s Dementia, Cataracts Kathleen, and Glaucoma Gladys have all been having a go at me!  Best if I say no more on the subject, methinks!

Took this snap of the rain, made a brew, and pressed on, trying to get the mess I’d made on WordPress understood and corrected; it was hard work that needed concentration. But, it went well for about two hours, progress-wise, and then Esther came bundling in to get the laundry. That shot my attention to pieces.

I began to make progress again. Esther returned with the laundry. Boy, can she talk? Hehe! Unfortunately, she does it when walking away from me and in the other room. Not the foggiest of what she’s saying half the time.

Well, I’ve got to get a rest. I’ll make some canned tomatoes and soya and use the old bread. After that, I can envisage myself just falling asleep until the evening carer wakes me up… there are about four hours in which I can make, eat the meal and some precious sleep… if that is possible.

Extra-chopped tomatoes with pieces of soya. And some slices of milk roll bread… well, half the loaf! Gobbled it up at my leisure slowly and enjoyed it. The Flavour rating for this one was 7.5/10! Washed the pots and was soon in the land of nod. Dream filled, though. No details are recalled, yet I still know that I had dreams?

An hour or so later, Evening Care Valerie arrived, and the shock of the chime bursting out and waking me shook me a bit… at first, I thought I was still in my dream. Hehehe! As I stirred and Valerie came, I realised that although I had got my jammie bottoms on, I was topless this time. Still, she didn’t mind my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, podgy paunch that bounced around in front of me when I stood up. Humph! Val got me sorted out, and I handed her some nibbles in thanks, and off she trotted, kindly taking the waste bag from the door with her for me.

I considered staying up to get on with this blog, but with all the cock-ups and mistakes I’d made earlier in the day, I decided to get back down in the c1968 second-hand recliner and get back to whatever the dream was about. And I did!

Ten minutes later, ♫Oh, Susana♫ rang from the door chime again. I whipped a jacket on quickly and went to open the door – It was Valerie back again.

She had gone back to the Meridian Office and found a letter from the DVT Anticoagulation Clinic changing the Warfarin dosages. Bless her, she realised she’d just given me the wrong dosage earlier and returned to give me more to agree with the new dosage roster. This should have been provided by whoever was in charge (surely?) to the night carer? But it had been left on the desk. Fortunately, the new dosages had increased, and Valerie gave me the extra tablet to put things right for me.

The thought was that had Val not found this new rota or the doses had gone down, not up, it would have been too late, and it meant I could be in a pickle medically if I had a bleed and an increased risk of a heart attack, blood-clot, and or stroke. Methinks Meridian, who has just put their prices up, has made a mistake. Be interesting to see if I get an apology this time. Valerie saved the day, anyway!

EMBARRASSMENT! As I was taking the Warfarin tablet, it dawned on me – I did not have my jammie bottoms on! I red-facedly thanked Val, and she shot off, Bless her cotton socks!

Back in the recliner…

Inchcock’s Monday Photographs

/ Inchie / 31 Comments

Iceland delivery

Morrison delivery

Sorry that this is so scrappy and crappy a blog.

Vascular Dementia Doreen really got me yesterday. I got in a pickle trying to sort out whether or not I’d post these, or not. At the same time, I was trying to get the obstreperous Card Reader to accept newer photos… a delivery came.

While putting the food away, another delivery arrived. I was struggling to keep it together cause I was sure the Iceland delivery was for Friday, not Monday… No doubt my fault,  error yet again, which doesn’t help my confidence one iota!

The kitchen was like Steptoe & Son’s was on the telly. Food was all around to be collated. Next, the INR Nurse arrived…

Not that I had any problems with the compassionate, beautiful, sweet-natured Hristina coming to deal with me. In fact, it was the only, I think, in the whole day that I was free of depression and frustrations – Gawd, I love her! (Also Jillie, Obergruppenfürheress Warden Deana, Carers Julie, Cheeky Charley, Sarah, Elena… Ah, so many!) Hristina always lifts me in spirit.

Leg check.

Herbert was not so bad during today, although there were a few mechanical concertos and some clangy Abbellimenti.

I’d ordered some Cathedral City cheese, red onion and focaccia baps on special offer… sorry I bothered now!

Luckily, the mushroom pate tasted great, and I filled both baps up with it! New potatoes, yellow and red halved tomatoes, and some ready roasted crispy onion bits (which went down well!). A pot of jelly & custard to round it off. I didn’t eat all of the focaccia baps, but I removed and ate all of the pates.

Took the things through to wash them up and copped for an Involuntary right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance… The tray went to the floor, which is better than my doing so.

Crap! I spent around an hour cleaning things up. I had no choice but to keep bending down cause the small onions and breadcrumbs I couldn’t see and the picker-upper was no use. Getting back up on my feet took a while in itself. Then getting the mop and bucket out of the wet room and mopped the floor. Let it dry first, took the equipment to the throne room, then went back in and cleaned the pots, tray etc., and then myself.

The evening carer arrived. Dour is how I felt cause the backache had been brought on by all the bending. Medications taken. I took an extra Codeine after the Carer left with the waste bags. I only take extra if needed, but it was that night.

Took a late evening sunrise shot. No you fool! Sunset.

Got into the £300 second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-covered tatty recliner. I reckon that I must have dropped off for a few moments, then shot awake again, at least 20 times!

Gone midnight, I put the TV on, hoping it would help me sleep deeper. It sometimes does… but no. The rest of the night’s sleep was interrupted so many times!

Grangleknackles!

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode, Sunday 22nd May 2022

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

Ah, the future of mankind, or an individual punter…
I’m not bothered about myself neverthemore…
My only claim for fame is being an ambidexter!
What prospects are there for the uneducated poor?
They can’t get a job as lamplighter…
They’ve even closed HMP Dartmoor?
Today’s youth will become even boozier,

Price rises will stir more violence and rancour,
The future for proletariat ankle snappers is unsure,
Innocents will be scared to leave their own front door,
Putin, of course, can make a life but a blur…
The Government’ll be worried about expenditure…
It won’t matter if you’re an unclever, underachiever,
In the shelter under No.10, they can still party and decanter?

Hospitals, police gone, what the hell can the poor sods do?
How many have died could be Boris’s main issue…
But it won’t be, I can assure you,
The Stock Market they’ll review,
Sell, sell, sell, or whatever they do…
Claiming insurance on MPs destroyed homes, too…
Scared stiff MPs… what will the stock market do?

Weapon selling will get very little revenue…
Gunrunners flooded the market; it’s all ambrew!
In nuclear fall-out, we’ll all be sodden through,
Fear not of no toilet paper; worry about no loo!
In need of help? There’ll be no one to go to…
But no need to fret; I’m not trying to scare you…
Bur, what if there is no nuclear pas-de-deux?
Oh… I’ve just got a papercut in my pirclicue…

If Putin takes war off of the Moscow maniac’s to-do list…
The proletariats could go back to getting pissed…
Cause it’d be better not to die and go see a traumatologist,
Train for a job in music? What about as a bassoonist?
Or join a drug gang, and you could become the rowdiest?
If you get caught, tell the Police all, get it off yer chest!
Best spend drug money made on a barrister, honest!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sunday, 22nd May 2022

05:454hrs: I woke up and passed the wind. Then I thought about having a wee-wee, but the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived suddenly. I had to gather my thoughts on getting out of the recliner and getting the balance exercises done in time to get to the wet room.

Which I managed without skipping any of the sequences of moves. Damned good session for once.

Then, I needed an extra weewee after the main event was over. Oh, dear, I rushed about to get back in and went a little heavy-handedly on getting to Little Inchie, and I started off the Fungal Lesion bleeding. I cleared and washed things after the leak and had the job of applying the ointment. All I can say is,

I was sorting out waste bags and making a brew when Valerie arrived. After she gave me the medications and went through some questions.

Instant panic overcame me: “Had I left the hot water tap running?” The short answer is ‘YES, I had!

Not only that, in my lunge at the faucet to turn it off, I knocked the cold mug of tea over… one would have expected it to go into the sink… but, oh, no… This is me we are talking about, remember. The luckiest man in Nottingham. The mug bounced in the tap flow onto the edge of the sink, pouring the contents left in it down the front of my pyjamas; I had to clean the cupboard door, sink, floor and my rotund body with cold water! Luckily I now have an ever-increasing mass of flesh all around my midriff, which I pushed up against the sink to stop the mug from falling further – Which meant my protection pants and jammies got the worst water!

Despite my lousy language and wailing, Carer Valerie was oblivious to what had happened. After cleaning things up, she came into the kitchen (She’s not daft!) Off she trotted, taking the waste bag with her for me.

The tap water is now running cold, and it will do so until the heating comes back early tonight! No shaving or owt until then. Humph! I do hate myself at times! Doreen Dementia does it. If ever I get interrupted doing anything, there is always a high risk of a Faux pas, and I forget what the other thing I was doing was… Grunglenagwaggles! I think?

I double-checked the taps, lights, etc., and got the potatoes into the crockpot. There was another Throne visit and two more weewees, and I started prepping things for Josie’s meal.

I got the pork out and added it to the bowl with the sliced onions, mushrooms and leeks. And spotted some string within the edges of the rind of the meat? So, as if I’d not lost enough time already, I had to check over all the meat to see if there was any more string. Good job that I checked it; I found another small piece. (Photo)

It took me ages with cataracts, and I found closing the right eye gave me a slightly better view… But of course, it warped the peripheral view, and I knocked the boning knife off of the counter. It now has its pointed end dented around into a sharp point. What are the odds of another Accifauxpas?

I was washing a basin I’d used, and the landline chimed out. I had to get the basin safe and rushed to get to the phone in time; it took a while. It was Sister Jane. She was in line at the City Ground to collect her ticket for the play-off final for Forest.

Now, this is proof, if the Doctor wants any, that I have Vascular Dementia Doreen: I suddenly thought I might have left the tap running (Cold Water) and excused myself to go and check. I had to, no choice. I grabbed metal Micky and off to the kitchen… The tap was dribbling, and for some reason, I thought it was the hot water tap, and also totally forgot about my leaving the hot water one on earlier, and thought… well, I’m not sure, but I think I told Jane, when I got back to the landline, the hot water tap has run cold? Every time something takes my attention away from what I’m doing, there is a possibility of such farces happening!

However, I didn’t realise this at the time, and we had a chinwag about footy, family etc., for a good while. Colin Cramps was kicking off in the left hand, the bent arm holding the phone for so long; Jane had the same problem, Fatal! Hehehe! Fatal! I foolishly took a swig of nearly cold tea using my right.

Listening to Jane talk, I grabbed some kitchen towels to try to wipe things up. I spilt some tea on the desktop and memory notepad. What the hell next? A little later, Jane rang off as her cramps were getting painful. Bless her.

I cleared up the mess that left some indecipherable scribble on the pad; oh, dear! At long last, I got around to getting the Health Checks done.

At least these results were outstanding all around. SIS 132, DIA 62, Pulse at 79. And the body temperature was the highest it’s been all year. Not that my mind appreciated it at the time. All I could think of was getting yesterday’s blog updated and sent off, let alone thinking of getting this one started! I took some snaps of the car park on Chestnut Way. No RVM? (Red Van Man) I had a look around…

Aha, I found RVM. Parked in the front section. And… parked legally and properly too!

Down below on the right end, I spotted the regularly good parkers, having snuggled their vehicle in nice and tidily!

I updated the Saturday post and got it posted off, much belatedly than planned. Even I didn’t expect so much hassle, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplop to emerge, even for a Sunday! Surely things have got to calm down? Fingers crossed.

Deciding to treat myself to a non-alcoholic, not a Cocktail, but Mocktail. I enjoyed it… until I remembered that it had pineapple in it. What a pillock! Hopefully, it will not affect the Warfarin INR level too much. I looked at the NHS DVT site about fruits to avoid when on Warfarin. In order of the highest in Vitamin K ones: Dates, Plantains, Kiwifruit, Rhubarb, Cranberries, Pineapple, Avocados, Blueberries, and Blackberries. They added; Certain drinks: Cranberry juice, and Alcohol, can increase the effect of Warfarin, leading to bleeding problems. Avoid or consume only teensy-weensy amounts of Cranberry juice and Alcohol. These drinks, when taking Warfarin, can prove fatal in the event of a bleed. Fair enough, I was aware of all of these.

Da-Daa! I hope she likes it again and that there are no more bits of string in the meat! I got Josie’s meal presented and delivered with a few treats and nibbles.

On the computer, WordPress Reader first. Then Facebooking. Finally, WP Comments. Then remembered to check on Amazon to see when the plates were due to arrive. The Amazon site said they were expected to arrive twixt 16:00 and 1800hrs. Fair enough!

They were: 25 Pcs Disposable Palm Leaf Plates – Organic Wooden Plates Biodegradable and Compostable Natural Eco-Friendly Square Party Plates 15×15 cm. I can’t say why I ordered them, but it seemed a good idea at the time. I think there was some specific use I had in mind? But with the mind being under the influence of Doreen’s Dementia, I don’t recall. Not that that is anything unusual. I like the idea of them being eco-friendly?

I pressed on with making this template, then got to record some actual facts and words. For the more discerning blogger to peruse, of course. Both of them! Hehe! The card reader accepted the photos taken today.

Then the plates arrived from Mr Amazon. By gum, they are so light! They have unevenness across the base. Which may cause me problems when moving or using them and the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Dizzy Dennis kick-off when I’m eating off them? I wish I could remember what it was about them; they must have sounded attractive when I ordered them?

I’m so behind with this blog now; the Evening Carer will be here soon. I was obviously not going to get a shower today or a meal until very late. But despite the hassle, I do love creating my Inchcock Today… Ah, that reminds me, I’d better go and check on the state of the fungal lesion. Back in a bit…

Carer Sarah arrived. Got me sorted, and we had a laugh and natter for a couple of minutes, which I enjoyed.

Worked on the blog, but I was so far behind. Weariness won the battle, and I got down to get some kip. It was late, about midnight, and I was doing my health, mental and eyes no good staying up this late.

At least when I got down, I was soon in the arms of Sweet Morpheus. But had a weird dream; that seemed to go on and on all night?

Inchcocks Diary (Curtailed), for Fri-Saturday

/ Inchie / 54 Comments

First, a few words to explain why this blog is as pathetic as it is

❶ I’ve lost so much time with Liberty-Global Virgin Media going down, I lost count of how many times in the last two days!

❷ Then, today (Saturday), Facebook started doing the same thing!

❸ I took a tumble on Friday, which left me with the shakes.

❹ The eyes seem worse today; it’s a struggle.

❺ Shaking, Shaun returned.

❻ Eyesight still poor

FRIDAY 20th MAY

Good morning; I didn’t do this blog until Saturday evening. There are very few memory notes on the pad and not many photos to help the grey cells out. Facebook was going off again so often, and Liberty-Global – Virgin Media. So this is not going to be very erudite… not that it ever was. There will no doubt be some guesstimating and missed events.

Up at 01:30hrs to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.

Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.

Still, the fridge didn’t look overfull to me? Could it be the eyes? Or a ghost coming into the flat and eating my stuff while I slept? I put it down to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, or ectoplasms, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I sorted things out but could sense, no idea how, but this happens sometimes, a feeling that either an involuntary right-leg, Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was on the way and building up in preparation. It was a tingling sensation up and down my right side, where the stroke affected me. Huh! I decided to take as much care as possible to ensure there would be no ending up on the floor again today!

Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!

Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.

Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.

I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?

I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.

At it again. Clunk-thudding it.

Ah, I think it was Carer Cheeky Charlie who called on me, but… maybe not.

Got to sleep easier tonight, but the jumping awake was annoying.

SATURDAY 21st MAY

Gave up trying to sleep and rose around 01:30hrs.

Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.

Serene Sarah, I’m sure. Or Cheeky Charlie, was it? Both are lovely gals.

After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas.

I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.

At it again. Clunk-thudding.

The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…

As I was getting them out of the pot with tongues, I got a hickey as I caught my little finger in the gripper. Oh, heckithump! Not only were they too soft, each one had blackies on the inside when I sliced them, So they are even looser now.

Carer Valerie arrived and asked me if I needed any help with the spuds. I declined her offer but thanked her. She got the tablets given to me and went on her way, taking the waste bags with her. ♥

I got back to the now lesser-blackeyed potatoes I’d sliced, and put them in the oven, to hopefully crisp them up a smidge. Got some tomatoes o the plate ready and two slices of imitation pork. But…

I cast my mind back to when I had to cook and clean for Dad. I’d got no bread, well I had, but it was in the freezer. So I got a few slices out, put them in an empty saucepan with the garden peas, and hoped they would thaw out before I needed them. No freeze, no fridge, no hot water other than what we boiled on the fire and stove, and no electricity (but we did get it later). Easy peasy when we got DC electricity fitted, gone were the candles… and damned good riddance! How the hell did I manage?

I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!

Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.

Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?

As I searched for Sweet Morpheus, Herbert gave me a last short mechanical serenade with a whirling, whining sound to round off, decrescendo style. Possibly, an underpowered drill chugging? I mentally wished the aloof Laodicean a good night.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit