Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sat 28th May 2022

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!

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!

16 thoughts on “Inchcock: Diary & Ode Sat 28th May 2022

  1. I hate it when knotted waist strings make you waste time with trying to waste a wee wee. No incident ambulationalisationing is worthy of smug mode. Excellent photos of the clouds and sunset. I love Dirty Harry. I have a S&W Model 29 like Dirty Harry.

    • Cheers, mate. Many poor ones taken that didn’t get in the blog. Humph!
      That’ll pack a punch and a half, Tim. Ideal for putting burglars off! Glad you’ve got it!

  2. Your characters in the play “Theater 72” showed up prepared for their roles and ready for action. Quite a large listing of survivals, started alarmingly enough with being tossed into a canal at the age of 5, being shot twice would be enough for most people methinks. Possibly the most death-defying record in the history of Nottingham, if not narrowing down to an inclusion in the famous accounts tallied by the Brothers Guinness. Good on ya’ mate.
    That Gordian Knot on the jammies puts you in potentially very dire straits, and as I know only too well since Crohn’s showed up in the mid 70’s, the sphincter muscle can only hold everything back in a severely limited amount of time. Did you know that the same muscle provides holdage for the bladder as well as the intestines? That’s a lot of stress on a single muscle. The tiny muscles that remain in my fingers are not up to such.

    • Started this with a smile, mate. Fang-You!
      I wasn’t aware of one muscle coping with both evacuationings, Billum. Now you mention it, it become clearer why I struggle so. Gald… or even glad, you mentioned it.
      I imagine you have more near-accidents, too? Worra life, eh?
      Are you still on the Humira, Sir? Hope it is still effective in relieving things?
      When they lasered the cancer in the bladder, it left me with 30% less capacity. There’s a joke to be had in there somewhere? Haha!
      This morning, I was blowing my nose and Periperal Pete, decided it was time for hand and finger shuddering moment – no injuries or bleeding this time, at all, but it didn’t half make me jump as the stiffened-finger shot up my nose! Hahaha!
      Richard was not very well this morning, sweating, sneezing. Poor lad. I worry about him in later years. I gave him your message of thanks, but the lad was not up to much. Gave him some strawberries, burger and bottle of spring water to try and cheer him up. He’s not getting much sleep either… Bless him.

      • I had not known about all the multi-tasking that the sphincter muscle provides, an important anatomical helper.
        I have not needed the Humira for some time, it could be a result of watching my junk food intake, less junky fare is also helping to reduce some eczema flare ups that recently showed up on my arms.
        Another coincidence between us, Sir: they took out a comparable amount of my bladder when a fistula had directed solids and gases from my intestinal, rerouting those products over to my urinary system. There is nothing quite like taking a wee and observing bubbles and what looked like a pimento. Next stop was the emergency room.
        Peripheral Pete is a practical joke, quick reflexes result in unexpected events. This one seems something like a Covid test without the cotton swab.
        I am a worrying kind of person, something t hat may have resulted from being born on a 17th of September? So I am concerned for good people who are stricken and have to continue working despite illness. Good of you to provide some pleasant fare to raise his spirts. And you know the results of sleep deficits.

      • Well read and said, Sir! Did you happen to meet Milton or Shakespeare on your time-travels last week. Hahaha! Or Data mayhaps? Haha!
        Thanks you Billum, we share uncannily.

      • Yes, I bring them suggestions developed in the literature lab and current issues of Inchcock Today to inspire their writing.
        Data is one of my favorite Star Trekkers, he does some grand impressions of Patrick Stewart.
        Good to share, is it not?

      • Data also one my fav’s, Sir. Havign a mechanical ticker, we have something incommon. Haha!
        Literature Lab… I like it!
        Sharing is not done enuff I fink, but we do our bestest, Prof Billum.

      • Data is also a cat lover, witness Spot. Fortunately, I encountered Chaucer *after* he had written the Canterbury Tales. He likes your stuff betterer than his own.
        “Chaucer Today” ?
        We do have quite a long cache of words between us, does we not?

      • I’d forgotten about Spot, Billum. Now you mention it pictures come flooding into my mind. Haha! Cheers.
        Chaucer, I have a link there, Billum. I went to Chaucer Street Clinic in Nottingham, around 1953, not amazing, but it is that I remembered and made the link. Haha!
        We could mayhaps with the help of your Laboratory 33, become famous as the ‘Can’t be buried Tales’? Hahaha! You could use a cross twixt time travelling quotes and your own selection of made-up words to get fame at last?

      • Spot is a good name for a dog. Lisa once had a kitty she named Fido Cat. Cheersaroo.
        All things under the letter C would bring to mind Chaucer and Cat. Cheers, to maintain the theme.
        Good idea about cross-referencing the T to find Travels and Tales. While at it, I shall dot all of the i’s 🙂

      • I think names for cats are generally formed on first meetings? I remember when Cyril brought Lady in with him to share his food, she was smaller, same black all over, and so gentle when she anything. I hoped she’s stay, and she did. Totally different to Cyril, but they seemed to get on so well with each other, I felt honoured to just watch them together… True love methinks?
        I fear that C at this moment reminds me of the Sea. I watched an American channel earlier, on the pollution of the seabeds… it saddened me tp see what they filmed off the coast of France it was. I’ve n need to say, they’re some sickening items in there, a positive danger to sea life as well. Waffling again… Oh, did I tell you about the NoMoo ice cream I tried, I’ve just finished it and out in an order for some more, ten-minutes ago! Oh, Yes! Even better, Iceland had some NoMoo burgers back in stock!!!! But we’ll see what arrives on Tuesday before I get too excited.
        Love to all ♥

      • We also tend to distinguish by color. One of our totally black kittehs received the rather unique name “Blackie”. It stuck, so what can you do? In our experience, black kitties are very gentle creatures. I am rather proud of having named our Siamese cat “Sesame.” I devoted a blog post to our Loki (even though she was a girl, there are no rules for naming but for the ones you personally enforce). She would follow me everywhere I went. When I was at the computer she located herself strategically in a cardboard box between the monitor and the keyboard.
        I wonder if they market NoMoo products in the US, they sound absolutely wonderful, Sir.

      • It all makes sense to me Billum. Dad brought a black cat home with him once (Obviously when Mother was on the run – she absolute hated cats… just another of her many faults!
        I named the cat Sooty. Dear Mpther came home a year later, and no Sotty hen I got home from school! I have to say, I hated her for that! Never forgave her.
        Loki sounds a little like Cyril in habits.
        I’ll look up NoMoo… hangum on, mate…
        “In 2018, NOMOO founder George Montagu Brown created the concept while catering events around Los Angeles.” Also…
        “NoMoo is the leading alt-dairy company in Brazil, producing cheeses, mayo, and cream made from cashews.” Aha, that must be what gives the ice cream its wonderful flavour!

      • People who hate cats could never reach Mensch status. Inconceivable is wot! Very sad to read about the sad fate of poor Sooty. That is indeed an unforgivable crime.
        Good to discover that our coincidences extend to our black cats. Cyril and Loki would have been great cybermates. All they would have needed are respective boxes in front of respective keyboards
        What a great stroke of good fortune to find that NoMoo is a worldwide success. They will be instant successes in the lab-complex cafeteria.

      • Blessum the cats!
        Got some more today from J Sainsburys. Costlier, no better than the No Moo. I’m putting a comparison between the two in today’s blog, Sir. Mayhaps a lab might be interested in it?

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