Inchy: Wednesday 5th February 2025

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I’d sell my soul, but to which acquist?
Old Father Time, or a reincarnationist?
Treat myself, & come back as a rheumatologist?
A scepticist, somnambulist, maybe a spiritualist,
A perspicacious psychiatrist or psychoanalyst,
What’s a phenomenologist? I’ve not got a gist!
No, I’d like to come back as a sensationalist,
Not as another feeble-minded moderatist,
I’ve lived this life with ostentatiousness,
Dithering, meandering, graciousless…
Though this year, I’ve acquired some spiritedness…
I’ve learned hatred, in recrementitiousness,
I’ve Starmer to thank for this…
For him to die in pain slowly, I wish…
No guilty. I hate Keir, the non-socialist socialist,
Think I’ll put my name on Old Father Time’s list,
I hear St Peter likes a sesquipedalianist,
And await the arrival of Keir the Schlockiest!
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MEMORIES – Mr Fooey. Long gone but not forgotten!
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07:10hrs: I stirred to the pain and my being awoken by  . Doing his best to detach my head from my torso. Soon to be joined by in the ‘Let’s shock Inchy awake’ campaign, by . Humph! The brain engaged first gear, triggering the mixed memories of my situation this morning. The worries about all the jobs and tasks that the Intercom had caused me to fret over and what I needed to do about them. I’d made mock plans. The first was to get the blog finished and posted. Then, to get down to the lobby from 08:00hrs to 0900hrs to admit my beloved Nurse Hristina. Being as the intercom had gone wrong on me. It’s still not working at all now. Worra Day!
I hauled my body from the comfort of the hospital bed, forcing every move. Then, I made a proper mess of photographing the nocturnal night pouch. A number 7 on the NHS graph.

I went to check the taps and cookers in the kitchenette. And the view from the windows was fantastic. After taking the top snap, I wondered if I could take a photo worthy enough to capture the two planets way up high in the sky. Of course, I couldn’t. Nothing like what my eyes were looking at. Tsk! 

After getting the blog finished and posted in a short time, I looked at the intercom to see if it would show anything on screen. It didn’t!

Time to get some clothes on for going down to the ground floor foyer for nurse Hristina. A pleasant thought, that! ♥

Arrived as I finished getting dressed. He did a rush job giving the medications, and he got my diabetic socks on in no time for me. Then I quickly looked at the intercom but couldn’t see why it was not working.
Helped me get the coat on, then assisted me in getting the walker and to take with me. Then, he kindly went down to the lobby with me. I sat in the lobby, and it was cold there. Doing the crosswords, but only for half an hour. And Nurse Christina arrived 🧡.
She was unhappy with me going to the lobby but understood why I had to. We went up to the flat, where Christina had a look at the intercom. As she was taking my INR Warfarin blood samples, she said that she would ask Julie about the intercom for me if she was there. Bless her!

Then I changed the dates on the c1970, made a clock/calendar, and started this blog. Things might get complicated in a while; I only had an hour and a half to work on this blog before needing to go down again to the ground floor lobby to wait for the arrival of the returned JS food delivery. A Financial Carer is now due to fill in my pages-long HMG Social Q&A papers. These are bound to clash, especially if the Cardiac nurse arrives. What next? 
The threat of mental mayhem lingers!

09:45hrs now. I’d better get my coat on ready. A smidge of guilt tickled me when I saw the hospital bed, which I thought I had straightened earlier.

Took a quick snap of the kitchenette windows as I made the first brew of the day.
I can’t wait too long for the financial visit. I must get down in time just in case the JS order arrives early, and I must stay down later if it arrives late. Thus, I may miss the financial help call I’m paying for. Life is a mess here!.
Grumble, groan, moan!

Carer Kimberly arrived at just gone ten. We set about the NCC (Nottingham City Council) Q&A form filling. It took a long time, but we arrived in time for me to shoot down to the lobby again and await the J Sainsbury delivery. I met an old friend from long ago, and we had a natter. She has also had her intercom go down on her. She was doing her laundry, and we had a lovely chat. I had to nip up to the lonely flat to empty my catheter. She kindly kept an eye out for the JS delivery. I emptied the catheter and returned to the ground-floor lobby. The gal went up to her flat and then returned with a note she’d written for me and left it on the external intercom, stating that flat 72’s intercom was out of action; please ring the ‘wardens’ who can let you in.
Very nice of her. 💘 Thank you, Angel.
The JS van arrived, and we all went up in the lift. Little did I know that I would soon be cursing, swearing and spitting at and at the very thought of J. Sainsbury’s! 
The driver may have been a little embarrassed when he told me that two bottles had ‘burst open’ and many items were covered in shandy. But the packaged goods were sealed and should be all right. (Never has a man been wronger!)
The empty box had the fresh foods in it for 2 minutes!
The shandy had permeated through the outer and inner packaging. I had to throw away the chocolates, biscuits, wafers, onion rings, bread, and patties. Some of the others look likely to end up the same way. But, they did not charge me for the two broken bottles. But of course, this put me below the minimum charge, and I got a delivery charge added.
My opinion of JS sank. I could not stop cursing and swearing at them. I opened each multipacket, only to find that the inner packets had been soaked for so long that the products had been soaked in the shandy. I’m still spitting occasionally. I got a phone call on the mobile and asked the driver to take it as I could not hear what the caller was saying. He said it was the NCC, saying they would call on Friday to look at the intercom. I thanked him muchly.
The bin looked well-filled already!
I suppose I can cope with the shandy-soaked potatoes?
The shandy-soaked label on each baking potato took ages to get off. The cursing returned! I’m hoping the fresh garden peas will taste alright. The cream cakes and parmentier potatoes I suspect witll have a shandy flavour to them. The beetroot was the only container that seemed shandy-free! Even the tomatoes had some dark liquid inside their box. The pattis had been permeated, but I think the Eclairs may have resisted the flow of shandy. I suspect the sliced red onions may have as well. The outer jar of peas and Anchor butter was sticky and wet, and, of course, I’ve no shandy to drink now!
A third round of anger and cursing ensued! Made worse by the incident not being my fault. Despite the delivery arriving, having to throw so much stuff away left the fridge still looking a little bare, to say the least.

Then I got a landline call (much easier to hear what they say on this line) from the Cardiac Team. The nurses will not be calling today; they will advise me of when after they have made rearrangements. I should hear from them via email by next Wednesday with the details. Well, that will save me another trip down to the foyer!

I must record the happenings on my notepad/Google Calendar. Since the maintenance crew did not give a time of day, I’ll put it on the calendar for the whole day. So, I did!

I got a late phone call from Sherrington Park Medical Surgery with the new Warfarin INR level dosages. Mon to Wed: 1.5, Thursday 2, the rest were also I.5. 

Carer Promise called early at night.

This prompted me to take a look at the evening sky. I just caught the sunset again.
And lovely it was, the first picture almost like a painting.
Then I took a close-up of our Mother-Sun on the horison.
I imagine this is how Mars would have been portrayed in the 1930’s and earlier?

I made a bread roll filled with about everything I had in stock. First time I’ve tried bamboo shoots. Can’t say I was impressed… I was also a smidge annoyed at forgetting the beetroot and pickled egg. Humph!

Carer Promise did the last call. Whipped off the diabetic socks; no medications were needed. He also returned the bag of laundry. I’ll sort that out in the morning.

Sleep came late, but it was a much better one.
And it lasted for over 6 hours! Yahoo!
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TTFNski, Each!
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