Incessant Inchy: Monday 8th July 2024

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(Starting this blog, Tuesday Morning) 
The day of the one-eyed Inchy! Actually, Tuesday was as well. All day long, things were out of sync. My eyesight and hearing were not good, and I could not hear the intercom, door chime, or fire alarm activation. Cartilages Chloe and Carole were having a ball, freely issuing me pain at a whim. Both gave way a few times, but not at the wrong time, so no crumbling to the floor. Haha!
(I imagine they would have been disappointed in this). 
And must have thought they deserved to win the prize for the ‘Bestest-Inchy-Brain-Interferers’ of the day. But that dubious honour was granted to , with a mention in despatches for & . The ankle ulcers  and   were both much kinder to me today.
I’m really not sure if I was having , , repeatedly falling asleep, or a combination of the three. But little got done that I set out to do. I felt so lacklustre.
Memory promoting from photos from here on.
The urine colour was not too bad later on.

Off to the . Messy!
The Asda order arrived. I handed some boxes and bags to the deliveryman, who kindly filled them for me at the door.
Then I carted them to the kitchenette, putting the things away in storage, the freezer, the fridge, the cupboards, the floor, and the junk room.
I took some Kodak Tim photographs along the way. This selection had a bottle of disinfectant (Lemon), bleach, and washing-up liquid.
Here, I have a Milk Roll, sliced bread, kitchen towels, bicarbonate of soda, soda water, and some of the economy kitchen towels, which I use to clean my spectacles, hearing aids, and cough into. Thick-skinned red potatoes are used to make baked spuds. Small fresh tomatoes and quick to cook potato cakes. A ready-made feast of cooked meals. Lamb Hotpot, Jamaican patties, Cumberland pie, and a sweet & sour battered balls meal.
I’m not going to starve! Hehehe! I must have ordered the wrong milk. It’s rare for me to get something wrong with food orders; this hardly ever happens. Ahem! Later, I tried this organic whole fresh milk. It was nothing special, but it was perfectly edible. My buying it again is not liable.
There was still room free in the fridge after packing everything into it.
Made a diversion to the wet room. For another of the visits. This time,  in control, but only just this time. I sensed a possible resurgence underway from . After noting the lack of any post-evacuation rumbling and grumbling from the innards, I made this decision. 

A series of mini s, all through the afternoon, broke my already fragile concentration.

The drizzle stopped and the grey skies turned a lovely blue hue. Unfortunately, the blotches were still on the Kodak Tim snaps. Humph!
It looked to me, as the right ankle ulcer covered with the compression wrapping was doing better. That was because the wanting to scratch at the itching had returned. On the other foot, it looked like that ulcer was brewing up to do a bursting out. I can’t win. I dread the thought of having to walk with both ankles erupting and both Cartilages giving me grief. I’ll never be able to get to the surgery, clinic or hospital. Thinking this gave me a dread of having to use a wheelchair. Please, I hope not!

I took this evening’s snap from the kitchen window and then worked out my plans for the daily meal. The ready-made meal with the shortest sell-by date was the Lamb Hotpot.
I got some frozen potato chunks cooking in the oven. I checked the timing for the hotpot, and it was six minutes in the microwave. I got some lamb gravy ready to mix. Then retired to the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop recliner, to watch the end of the ‘Heartbeat’ programme. as the first adverts came on the screen. Waking up in response to a giant whole-body-twitch and jump! I recalled a bit of a dream I had been having. It involved me and Grizelda in mutual contact! So, say no more! Then I smelled the potatoes cooking in the oven…  I en route to the kitchenette, hit my shoulder on the edge of the door frame when I entered the kitchen. I found that the potatoes needed a little extra time to get them as I like them. Very well singed! 
So I put the meal in the microwave, and as the microwave pinged, I took the potatoes out of the oven. I acquired the standard burnt finger on the oven racking. (I Germolened it.) Then I made some Germolene-flavoured Bisto lamb gravy, adding a drop of Winiary Przyprawa seasoning into the mix. Then, put the potatoes into the bowl, and poured the gravy over them. Followed by scrapping the lamb hotpot contents out of the tray on top. What an absolute feast of a meal this was! It just may have been the flavour of the Germolene that gave it an extra tang? Hehehe! I had a pot of mandarins in jelly to round off the meal. 
Passed wind, bleached and drifted of into another mind-blank or sleep.
Woke up to find the food tray had fallen, leaving crumbs and gravy all over my new nightshirt, my legs, bandages and the carpet. I had to change my attire.
Carer Chris arrived and laughed when he saw the T-shirt that Sister Jane bought me a few years ago. He took a Kodak Tim snap of it and then of the sun setting from the balcony windows.
It was so sad to see so many new blotches in the Horizon pictures, sob! 

It was good of Chris to take the piccies for me, all the same.

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May your plans not get stunted,
Nor your valuables get hunted,
May your problems be ameliorated,
Your hopes do not get frustrated.
That your sanity can be corroborated,
Your computer doesn’t get corrupted,
And your dreams will not be interrupted!
May good fortune be indicated!
May your problems be quadrated!

Please haveth a great day!

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