Inchcock Today: Monday 17th October 2022

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Around about 07:30hrs, chiming out woke me up in a somewhat confused state… Nay, a perplexed state! Although this was obviously not as bad as that was! Not since the stroke day have I felt worse on waking up. 
It took me a while to work out just what was happening. Was I dreaming again? Had I lost the evening to whiles? I then realised it was morning and not evening. (I’m quick sometimes, you know!) I worked out that whoever the Carer was had not come in – so I had not unlocked the door. (After a minute or so of Sherlockian investigating) The rude awakening and the confused mind left me in a fantod state of mind.
I struggled as fast as I could to get the door unlocked. Ad I hope hoped, it was who was there. Once I began to tell him of what I’m not sure: presumably of last night’s farce when I was sure it was morning. The why and how I believed it was in the was evening and not morning now… Everything I was saying was confusing, even to me. I think I was also forgetting what I was saying all the time.
So, no reports on Richards’s visit to give you many details about it. Not that I felt in the slightest bit unwell or poorly, mind you. Just in a bemused, perplexed, mind-going-around-in-circles, sort of in a chaotic, jumbled world of its own, with me chasing after it! 
However, to whatever happened as I was walking Richard to the door. Life, understanding and acknowledgement of the things around me returned began to return to me. No recollection of taking the medications, but I just know that I was waffling on to poor Richard and losing what I was saying seconds later. But by then, I’d be on another subject, and I wanted to keep on that before I lost track of that topic. I think…
I hope to formulate a message to tell the Doctor tomorrow when she rings me. That is understandable to her. Although it’s not so to me, I must tell her what happened?
Aha! I’ve just found the memory note, and it mentions Carer Richard. (Not a lot on the pad, though; proof that my concentration is still insufficient!).
As best I can decipher the notes, it says: “Richard… I talked gibberish. Vague ___?___. But report? Seeing Richard off.” That’s all? This was written about 9½hrs ago, so not surprising that I can’t work out the missing or unreadable wordings for the life of me. Humph!

Off to the kitchen to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea. Then, just after adding the water, The was needed.
I sat there, once again, waiting for the evacuation to begin. I even sang, Begin the Begin to myself. Artie Shaw’s 1939 version, of course. Counted the cracks in the ceiling and wet room wall. I may have nodded off for a while as well.
When the torpedo started its slow, grindingly painful journey to freedom, it woke me up with a shog and captured my full attention! The relief was phenomenal! It must have been a two-minute spell while the escaping product travelled out before it hit the water. 
bled only the tiniest amount, but they stung like the devil! Germoloid ointment came to the rescue! Olive oiled the ears. And then I touched up MedPhorpainknee with a good dose and rubbed in plenty of the Phorpain Gel.
Hobbled back to the kitchenette.
To the now stone-cold mug of 99 tea! . Well, I made another, keeping all calm, as id my want and very nature.
As I poured the water into the mug, I espied something floating on top? Obviously, the kettle needed descaling. No Sherlockian Investigations were required here.

I decided I’d do it straight away, as I knew where the last packet of descaling powder was, in the old cutlery drawer! But no!
 It wasn’t in there! The search to find the packet must have taken me at least an hour! It had fallen down the back of the drawer into the cupboard below.
Now I was all the more determined, resolved to get the kettle de-furred! I got the spy-glass to read and rewrote the instruction on some paper, nice and large, so I could not get them wrong.
Then got them wrong! I think. I couldn’t check because I’d unthinkingly torn up the carton the sachet came after I’d added it to the kettle! I thought it said Leave it in hot water in the kettle for ten minutes. Which I did, and I timed it to spot on. Rinsed was advised, boiled again and emptied.

Kicked off and got a reply post-haste. I’ve got this returning his bangs to a tee using the Wooden Walter stick! He did many knockings late on, but they were barely discernable. Thanks, Herbert!

I got an email from Asda telling me there were some lines (6) unavailable, and some substitutes had been made. A link to amend the order was pressed. I proceeded to get myself into the right mess. I could not find a way to cancel the substitutions. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but when I clicked amend the order, I’d spent £15 more than the original order was! ! and joined forces in a sudden pain attack. !

When I made the mug of Thompson’s Punjana tea, I thought I could see things floating about in the kettle? Oh, .

Jodie arrived to see me. We had a laugh and a natter about things.
She reminded me about the spoons to get for the Pentax. And watched while I put it on the Calendar.
Then asked me if I had booked an EasyLink lift for the Tuesday visit to the chemist. Thanks to , I had no idea whether I had or not. Jodie offered to ring Deana in the morning to confirm for me. ♥ I gave her the last ‘Smoked’ Coke from the fridge, an extra one; thanks for helping me.

Carried on with blogging while having ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. You’ll never believe it, but:


Then, the chips were in the oven with the smoked BBQ rice and the peas left in the saucepan. I’m feeling hungry for the first time in a while this Monday night.
Oh… I found this photo on the SD card. Not the foggiest idea about it?

Got the belated checks done.

At last, I got some late-evening fodder cooked. It went down a treat! I ate it slowly, savouring every fork and spoonful! I masticated each one more than usual… by gum, this was one of the best meals I’d done for myself for ages!

A genuinely worthy, tasty meal that deserved a Flavour-Rating of 9.4/10!
As you can see here in the photo of the finished meal, all that was left was a few grains of rice.
Had let me see them with the naked eye, I’d have gobbled them up as well!

Washed, changed and settled in search of some rest and peace in the arms of . But, with and both kicking off the moment I settled, never stood a chance!

As I lay there for hours, unable to sleep, my IQ warned me, ‘There’s worse to come tomorrow!’