Inchcock Yesterday & Today Diary
Due to Doreen’s Dementia, my excellent ability to forget things and get more confused daily, my ailments, the computer card reader, and CorelDraw difficulties, I’m mentally in a state.
Not to mention Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet persistent going down. (Oh, I did say it!)
So this will not be as visually appealing as usual. And most likely, with happenings out of sync with each other and scarcity of photographs on offer. Also, my terrible memory-aid scribblings/writings on the notepad are somewhat unreadable. Messy, rushed… Tsk! Here I go…
Up at 04:00hrs: First sentence on pad undecipherable with these cataract eyes. Tried to upload photos, but no go. Wee-wee, a mug of tea… (Another unreadable few lines). Blogging, terrible internet connection again as Sunday was. Four hours to update the first part of the blog for Saturday & Sunday. Wee-wee.
Then Carer Richard arrived. Lifeline check. (Illegible) Wash and medicationalisationing. Stubbed toe.
Tea, another wee-wee. Got the ode finished at last. WP comments. WP Reader, Emailed blog link and Picts, then did Facebooking.
Tried to get photos on but failed again. But not surprising as Liberty-Global Virgin Media kept dying on and off!
Made a start on the News snippets blog. (Notes were as clear as mud)
Herbert started tapping and knocking with the odd crashing noises thrown in with all the problems.
I phoned Deana about the TV licence text. (Unfathomable writing for two paragraphs, Huh!) I hope she will call tomorrow to pick up the money.
CorelDraw problems. Josie returned the tray from Sunday, she did say she enjoyed the meal but did not mention the Woo-Woo, so it’s back to G&T for her next week. Hehe!
The Idaho pot potatoes were delivered. Late now. What to have for nosh later… couldn’t decide but I fancy trying one of the potatoes? Stored them with the others and noodles.
Back on the blogging, and…
(More indistinct squawl on the notepad). Net came back on, and I tried blogging again… so slow, I gave up.
Carer Valerie arrived. We got the medications taken and had a minute or so natter.
I made this odd-looking meal. A pot of noodles, a pot of potatoes and a cake. First time I’ve tried these pot spuds. They claim to have vegetarian sausage and gravy in them. Gravy? I could see nor taste any… not that I was bothered, cause they still tasted great to me! Flavour Rating: 6.8/10.
Head down, and was soon off in the arms of Sweet Morpheus, a nice change!
A better night this time. Only woke up about five times and felt better than usual when I did!
I stirred back into ersatz life around bout 06:15hrs. Not feeling as bad as I usually do. Of course, I’d have at least six hours kip, which was why I felt perkier, I imagine? As I rose, I took this snap through the balcony window of the bottom field on Woodthorpe Grange Park.
Had a wee-wee. Maybe a cystitis infection, mayhaps. Regrettably, it was still reluctant and just a smidge painful, needing an effort on my behalf to force things along. But no problem with how I felt, which was livelier than for a while.
I checked the taps and heating as I went to get the kettle on. Made up a waste bag, and I was off to the wet room.
Got the Blood Pressure machine, the sphygmomanometer as its clever name is. Hehe!
SYS was a little high, 157, and DIA at 67. But the pulse seemed okay.
The NHS graph said it was only in the High zone, so it’s nowt new there. My Chinese (Hong Kong) by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, a contactless thermometer, gave a satisfactory result at 34.8°c.
What a great session that was! Did the nasals and eye drops. Some of the drops actually got into the eyes! Hehe! Cleaned the teggies. Then got in the shower… a potential high-risk area for me. But, no bother this morning! No dizzies, no banging into anything! No toe stubbing! No bleeding from shaving either!!!
This may be hard for anyone to believe… but I assure you it is true.
I got the socks on via the deadly, injury-causing Sock-Glide-Glenda – only one tiny knick on the thumb… no bleeding, no bruising either!
So, no cuts, shaving, no falls, toe-stubbing… I felt that good; I could have crushed a grape!
I got fully dressed (Including trousers!) I’d just started on the computer, and Richard arrived very late. The lad looked done in, but he didn’t complain, nor did I. He sorted out the tablets first. Had a mini-natter, took his freebies on my insistence and shot off with my best wishes and thanks for being given him. Oh, and instructions to get himself to bed ASAP!
I made a brew of JS Extra Strong Tea and sorted the laundry out for when Esther comes. Back on the computer. But stopped when it went down yet again.
I took a snap of the end of Chestnut Way car park. Red Van Man is his usual, technically, illegal parking space on the chevrons; Little Red Car driver nearly got it right, as did Light-Blue Car Driver. I think Grey Car Driver got fed up with trying?
Then, the Iceland man cometh – with the order I was convinced was due on Thursday, but it wasn’t. This goes to show how convincing and positive Doreen’s Dementia can be! Tsk!
Iceland had sent the wrong potatoes, but that is nothing not done many times before. The brown rolls were squashed flat. The Guatemalan sugar snap peas had a few mouldy ones in the packet, but were two days in date? The box of lemon treats was also crushed. So, all normal, then!
The strawberries were okay. I got the things put away, bread in the freezer, cobs and other bits in the cupboards so I can forget where I put them into the fridge for most things this afternoon. Then I set about sorting the freebie nibbles. I got a good few cans of various plonks in, the special price ones, mostly. Laid them out on the top of the bookcase so they can help themselves to which they may fancy.
Then, the potatoes were ready to be morphed into cheesy baked potatoes. (This did not happen due to my being so worn out when it came to noshing time).
Esther arrived to do the washing. Had a chat of sorts as she got the stuff ready to go. The gal tends to talk when looking and walking away from me, and I miss a lot of what she says. Bless her.
I rang Deana to ask if she was coming to collect the money for the TV licence and mentioned the non-arrival of the door key replacement. She hopes to collect the money with ‘The Lady’? On Wednesday, she’ll check on the critical door key supply situation.
The Herbert symphony of tapping, clanging and buzzing kicked off. Only got a couple of hours. After that, it mainly was thudding as if something was being dropped on the floor.
Wash and medicating certain areas next. Little Inchies fungal lesion was the most painful, but it usually is. Argh!
Food! Tomatoes and two veg burgers in wholemeal cobs. I baked some of the small potatoes and halved them. I put some Ben’s Hickory Smoked Barbecue sauce in a small pot for dunking. A honey yoghourt followed. Taste: 7.6/10!
Put the wholly emptied food tray to one side and drifted off into a deep sleep. I’m sure I dreamed of something, but I can only remember it being enjoyable; I think Jillie was in there. And ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed from the doorbell. It was Carer Valerie. Nice to see her, but disappointed in losing whatever I was up to in my dream. Hahaha!
After giving me the tablets, Valerie offered to wash the pots for me. I thanked her but declined the offer. Insisting, she took some nibbles, which she did, and she lifted the waste bag to the chute on her way, for me.
As I was washing the pots, the sky caught my little attention, and I took a picture with the canon on auto mode. I couldn’t load it; the SD card reader wasn’t working, but I tried again in the morning. I’ll put this photo on tomorrow’s blog cause when it did load, I thought it was amazing that I saw a fox’s face in the clouds.
Another decent, relatively pain-free session! Despite the torpedo’s mammoth dimensions and firm nature, no pain and no bleeding. I even got it out within a couple of minutes. Which was a rarity for me, most copacetic!
Got changed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, often crumb-covered tatty recliner. I pondered over should I try to watch some TV to help me drift off, and I turned on the telly. I was in the grasp of Sweet Morpheus within a minute! Insufflation!
The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series