Inchcock – Nottingham’s Ace Accifauxparist: Fri 4 Dec 20

♥ The TFZer Shepherdess, with some of her flock ♥

Friday 4th December 2020

Afrikaans: Vrydag 4 Desember 2020

00:35hrs: I woke in need of a wee-wee, I’ve missed this the last two mornings. At least I know I didn’t miss taking the Furosemide®.

I  hopped (hopped? Hahaha!) out of the recliner, went through the balance-gaining exercise, (something else I do regularly each morning, since the last time when I didn’t, and fell back down in the chair, causing Harold’s Haemorrhoids to bleed painfully, and set off BPB [Back-Pain-Brenda]) I recall the pain. Tsk! Over to the overnight bucket, and saw it had not been used. So instead of doing more cleaning, I hobbled to the wet room for the wee-wee—a disappointing affair, of the UTD (Unwilling-Trickling-Dribbling) variety.

I got the computer on, almost determined to get on with making up up some graphics on CorelDraw for the TFZer page top pictures. But first, I must update the Thursday blog and cracked-on with it, no Health Checks or mugs of tea, I persevered with the job!  Not a long job, there was not much to catch up with. I sent it off to WordPress, Emailed the link, did some Facebook catching up, and went on the WordPress reader.

Then made a brew, cursed the dank rainy weather, and had another UTD wee-wee. Then industriously, onto CorelDraw and got all of the TFZer graphics done that I needed! Smugness Adopted! Mind you, it took me over three hours of concentrated attention to detail. I can’t brag too much, I’ve not checked them out yet for mistakes.

I had to put a stop to this dedicated, determined attitude, to respond to a call to the Porcelain Throne. Fearing this visit being as bad as yesterdays, I went apprehensively to the wet room. Constipation Konrad beat the hell out of Trotsky Terence again, but by less, I’d say a 2-0 victory. Which meant a little less pain for yours truly, but it was still bad. No bleeding, though, that was a plus! Haemorrhoid Harold didn’t suffer so much, thankfully! I noticed that ankle ulcer was looking good, no pain whatsoever, fading now, and no itching. A risk of Semi-Contentment developing here!

Time was flashing by, and the Ablutions will need doing soon. I spent some time making up some Thought graphics, then back off to the wet room for a scrub-up.

: Well, and it did go well! Worryingly, unnaturally so!

As I stripped off, I could not help but take these pictures on the right here. The legs, ankle ulcer, and feet, all looked much improved.

The left-hand papule that appeared yesterday, had gone down to the titchiest little spot, the puss-head was not to be seen today?

The teeth cleaning was a painless and bloodless affair. (2-dropsies)

The shaving had only one wee-cut. (3-dropsies)

The showering had a few dodgy moments. The first of the dropsies, the shower gel bottle, landed right on the leg ulcer – and it didn’t even hurt! A full bottle as well! (This good luck can’t last, surely?)

Then Dizzy Dennis visited, but I’d left the shower chair handy, so had a sit-down, and within a minute or so, was back up showering away to my little heart’s content!

A total of only 2 dropsies in the shower! Yes! But, getting out of the shower, I’d left the chair to close and had forgotten about it. Klunk! I banged the right ankle on the chair leg! Ah-well!

The medicationing went brilliantly! No accifauxpas, bleeding or knock-overs! Yee-Haa!

As I put the trousers on, the bashed ulcer had become so tender and ultra itchy, and looked a tad inflamed? I think new growths were coming up around the ulcer and nearby?

It was the devil’s of a job not to scratch at it! Gringglebogs!

I got the handwashing, just a towel, done wrung and hung to dry above the sink.

The trouser legs were catching on the now tender leg ulcer, so pulled up the trews leg out of the way – but it was so cold now. Brrr!

The workmen’s tapping, knocking and drilling started, and carried on, and on, and on… Still, it can’t be helped. Dangnableisations! Hehe!

I took a photo through the balcony window, it was still raining, glum, and a disheartening sight. With it being so cold in the flat as well, anyone would think it was winter.

Oh, it is innit!

I got the much belated Health Checking done. Started with the body temperature with the contactless thingamabob.

That was looking well-healthy at 36.6°c. No complaints there then.

The sphygmomanometerisationing showed a higher than for a while SYS of 176. Maybe it’s because I took so much later than I usually do?

I took the morning medications, as well.

The ankle ulcer had stopped being tender, and I could now drop my trouser leg. Giggle! I took the last photo of it, and it had been seeping a bit, but it left a lot better, easier, calmer, now.

The drilling and knocking noises are getting irritating. But needs must. I’ve got a rare headache coming on. Hey-ho!

Back to the computer to update this blog, so I can get back to CorelDrawing. But it’s getting late now, but the graphics will have to be done, or I’ll be in a right pickle in the morning. I did some IT updating and then went for a brew. The view outside, showed some sleet or snow trying to come down with the rain, so I got the Nikon camera and went out on the balcony to take some shots – through the glass, too cold and wet to open any windows.

Then I bravely and foolishly (had I known what was about to happen, I would never have gone in the kitchen, but of course. who knows what fate holds for us, Hahaha!) I decided to take a picture from the unwanted, disliked, light and view-blocking kitchen window, to try and catch the sleet and snow in the photograph…

Gragglespitgurgle! Bungdankles! Splerminescence! Flagtoggles!
 

As I went to open the most hated and unluckiest, bedevilled, cursed, kitchen window in the world;

Peripheral Neuropathy Pete produced a right leg Schuhplattler Dance/Wobble about session, that had me on the deck before I knew the flailing dance was coming! I lay there, in a semi-crumpled heap of stomach-dominated mass, for a minute or so, awaiting the dancing limb to stop, feeling and sensing for any injuries.

Unglefrogwonglingisations!

I’d grabbed out for support, the walking stick was the first thing that abandoned me. And caught the washing hanging on the curtain rail, that joined the clothes in falling off to the floor, knocking the tea mug, picker-upperer and all the other clothes in another load on the floor!

I was shocked and annoyed a bit. But soon weighed up what could be done to get back on my feet. I decided to crawl on all fours, to the recliner in the other room. (Which pleased Arthur Itis’s knees I can tell yer!) that’s strong enough to take me heaving my weight back up, I’ve used it a few time in the past. I managed to get myself up, surprisingly easy as it happens?

Bother from BPB, Haemorrhoid Harold, clouted on the elbow and head, and the ankle must have hit something, it was now bleeding a smidge. I cleaned up the ulcer area and ointmentated it. Nae, bother! I had the struggle to get the leg up so I could tend to it, and almost went over again getting the leg down! You’ve got to laugh!

I was moving a bit stiffly with the back hurting, I just took my time. I got the ‘fallen clothes’ (Haha!) on the hooks in the hallway. Not much room left to get through now—Hell of a mess to clean up.

As I said; You’ve got to laugh!

Despite the Whoopsiedangles and Accifauxpas, I was more than ever determined to get some photo’s of the snow, but I noticed it was stopping, so I had a go with the Nikon.

I took a Codeine 60g, a Dioctyl® poo-softener, and a Paracetamol 30g, so the discomfort should soon be easing off. Although BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) feels as she’ll be set-in for a while. I’ll still the other painkillers later with the evening medications.

I was genuinely angry when it first happened. But it soon faded. As Doctor said when Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed, ‘There is nothing we can do to repair dying nerve ends’, So, fair enuf!

I pretended to clean the kitchen a bit, and thought sod-it! I got on with updating this blog, while happenings were clear in my head.

The landline burst forth. It was the beautiful, desirable, so sweet, caring Hristina, my beloved Phlebotomy vampire nurse. Kindly advising me that she is calling for my blood on Monday, twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs. Bless her. Well, that made me feel better straight away! ♥

It’s so late now with all the faffing about I’ve suffered. I really need to get at least one template made up… Hello, Anne Gyna’s kicking into Hurt-Inchcock mode now! Cringleblastitt!

I went back to CorelDraw to if I was up to making the template. Oh, dear! I got one made, and then started to prep the meal.

I made more mess in the kitchen making the nosh, feel guilty, but am not up to doing any more cleaning or physical labour… I have enough problems staying awake to eat the fodder.

The old Thought-Storms began when I got to settle, so sleep was a time coming.

Inchcock – Nottinghams Highest EQ – Lowest IQ – Thursday 3rd December 2020

TFZer Meal-Makers on TV?

Thursday 3rd December 2020

Welsh: Dydd Iau 3ydd Rhagfyr 2020

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00:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, and the ailments already having a bash at me, the moment I moved any connected limbs, were; SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Haemorrhoid Harold, and Duodenal Donald, with a few mild interruptions by wandering all over the front torso, Anne Gyna. But this is not unusual.

The astonishing thing was the frame of mind I was in. I felt almost contented and ready for anything that came along? Naturally, this is not going to last long, but still, a great, if a rare, situation, that I will do my best to enjoy!

No calls to the Porcelain Throne or Wee-wee bucket either! I rose, caught my balance, and meandered into the kitchen. No desire for a mug of tea (now I was getting a smidge confused and a semblance of weariness developed). Oh, dearie me! My bestirring semi-contented feeling was diminishing already.

I checked the hanging above the sink hand-washing and moved the jammie bottoms onto the upright clothes dryer. All this time, I was… I don’t know how to describe it, erm, like I was not me, or someone had hacked into my brain? No wee, no pooing, no mug of tea, Arthur Itis and Cartilage Cathy has never been kinder to me than they were this morning? Caught my balance without the exercising first! And not a single Dizzy Dennis visit yet! Conrad Confusion was being tested, here! As was what semblance of sanity I have!

With a determination I’ve not possessed for months, I grabbed a bottle of spring water, and made for the computer, to upload last nights photographs, and start the updating of the Wednesday IT diary.

I’m certainly not claiming that I was efficient, or methodical in my efforts, as I began to work on CorelDraw to get the photographs resized. But my regular hesitancy, indecision and dilly-dallying were far less than they would usually be. I wish I could work-out why? 

The task of getting the photographs prepped took me less than an hour. Never been known to be so fast in years!

Then I realised that the Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were only rarely dying on me, and when they did, it was only for a few seconds at a time. I was baffled at this. But well happy with the situation! And pressed on as quickly as I could to take advantage!

I got the pictures done and into the WordPress gallery ready to use. Then started to update the Wednesday blog… and had to stop, damned shame this, just when I was getting something done, to go to the Porcelain Throne utilisationing.

I got to the wet room in plenty of time, not that it mattered. For Constipation Konrad repeated his Wednesday victory over Trotsky Terence, but by a bigger margin! At least 6-0! As I sat there, toying with the crossword book, and daring not try to force things along, and waiting for the innards to evacuate at their own pace – I soon realised that this was not going to happen. I don’t know why I put ‘soon’ there? It must have been a good fifteen minutes, and three new answers found for the crossword puzzle before I had no option, other than to grin and bear the pain (it was worst in weeks). And I urged the action to start. A few silent Argh! Eeks! and a couple of minutes later, the evacuation started, agonisingly slow, full pressure had to be applied on my behalf. In the midst of the protracted torture, I swore to take two of the Dioctyl® poo-softeners as soon as I could after this agonising session had finished. Which turned out was not to be, for a good few more minutes yet!

Harolds Haemorrhoids were going through hell, I could feel the blood, with it being warmer, hitting the body parts as it flowed. The torpedo even needed a final extra urging to finish the motion… at last! Well, that put the final nail in my feeling optimisticness!

I changed into a disheartened, forlorn mode. The cleaning up was not too bad, with the evacuated product being rock-hard. Even the cistern somehow managed to clear it away first flush!

But it had left me feeling so sore! I washed the rear-end and put the bloodied paper towels and sealed in the bin. The medicating of poor old Harold’s department, even using the Germoloid Ointment, was the most excruciating I’ve known for years!

I changed into one of the older Morrison bought white PPs (that fitted). Memories of pre-Coronavirus days flowed. The time before Morrisons and Sainsbury’s started sending the most farcical substitutes, you know, like AA batteries in place of a can opener, Medium Protection Pants instead of XL, and McCains foul-tasting black pepper fries in place of Sweet potato battered fritters!

But, these things happen, so I wasn’t bothered, and I took it casually in my stride. No cursing, planning getting my revenge or anything like that. Oh, no! Gesundheit!

A demoralised Inchcock, with a very sore bottom, returned to his computer. Back in his regular, normal, nervous, twitchy, haphazard, grumpy, fed-up, wee’d-off, desultory, and laissez-faire, defeatist, frame-of-mind. Feeling so sorry for himself, too! 

But, my being a well-educated, dedicated, sharp-witted, positive, capable, and ultra-determined character, I pressed on and got the updating finished, not giving a care to the ailments, back-luck or having just dropped my mobile, and it isn’t working now. Sob, Grubbleackers and Grrr! (No confidence Scenario emerging)

I decided to make a brew of Glengettie. (it will not help, but it’ll be tasty!) And poddled off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. The sky was getting a smidge lighter, so I got the Nikon and took a couple of photos.

A lot of the Christmas lights had been turned off for the night. I can’t blame anyone, they may encourage the attentions of burglars, distraction con-men, and local yobbery, who have been more active in Sherwood lately. I got these figures from the local Email Mag: Monthly Crime figures for little Sherwood, June 193 – July 196 – August 199 – September 211- Not good!

The knocking and banging from the workers have started off, started work early today, bless ’em. I made a start on this post…

When I opened the Notebook app to get the information stored, it came up empty? What? Had I done something wrong, or what? Had it been hacked? It had some important numbers and passwords in it? Oh, dearie me, I’m feeling even worse now! Really fed-up! Granglespithowlations!

I got the ablutions done! Which went better than I expected. It’s all up and downs today? The usual dropsies and a few shaving nicks. The showering went as good as it has in months, no knocks, dizzies, toe-stubbing or loss of balance. Smooth! The medicationing had its moments, but nowt excessive. The legs and feet looked good to me. The wee-wees had dried up as well. The skin is as normal, looking a smidge deathly pale again.

I did find a photo on the SD card later, that was a mystery to me. I’m not sure I meant to take it, or why if I did. Hehehe! But you never know, with the state of my memory and incertitude? Is that the right word? I’ll check. Yes, that’s the one.

I had to laugh when I was using the long shoe-horn to get the slippers on. Somehow or other, I’d got the horn stuck in the outer part of the faux-leather of the footwear, and it stuck there, needing extracting. But it was so funny, I got the smaller Canon camera and managed to take a shot of it with the left hand, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops. Smug-Mode-Adopted!

I hand-washed the blue zip-up jerkin. All done, wrung and hung above the sink to eventually drip dry, I hope.

Then I moved the jammie bottoms on the fairer ti aid in drying them enough to wear. Judging by how damp they still were, I anticipate them being dried somewhere around next April. Haha!

I then spotted two burglar alarm activating in the rain-sodden Cavendish Vale. I tried a few times to get a photo that showed the alarm lights, but I failed in my efforts.

Then I made up two more small waste bags and put them in the box on the three-wheeled walker. And I added a biggish couple of bag with recyclables materials in them, to it on the handlebars.

I had a panicky moment and a kerfuffle finding the key fob to take with me so I can get back into the flats. Then, as I thought all was ready to take the trolley down to the bins, (It’s collection day today), I couldn’t find my long-distance spectacles! After a hunt around, I found them in plain view on the TV stand. The worrying thing, is how I missed them so many times in my searching?

I departed the flat, hoping to meet someone en route to the waste bins for a natter. I met a worker in the 2th-floor lift lobby, said hello, but he couldn’t understand English, So I gave him a smile, which was a bit silly-billy of me, cause I had the mask on! Hahaha!

No one was using the elevators at that moment, so I was soon down on the ground floor. Got the little Cannon camera out and took this photo of the ground floor lobby.

Then hobbled to the and through the main lobby and out in the wet rain, to the bins awaiting collection. I took the photo of the electronic notice board on the way to the lobby.

Where I met the caretakers and got involved in the nattering session with them… well, that’s not strictly true. I did the talking, that bored them into a rolling-eyes mode within 30 seconds. I’m good at doing that, and with effort either!

I returned to Woodthorpe Court flats, took another picture of the being updated hallways and lobby, and got up in the lift to the 12th-floor.

Getting out of the cage, I had my first wobbly of the day, (I’d done well up to now though!) and caught my shoulder through my weak spatial awareness, on the side of the lift. Which set of BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Humph!

Naturally, this didn’t bother me in the least. (Much!)

The worker’s equipment was in the lift lobby. I got back into the flat, and I got the kettle on, post-haste! And made a brew of glorious Glengettie.

I worked on this post for about four hours, and the back and right shoulder from hitting the lift side, was pretty bothersome, and the computing had to be stopped. At that moment, the landline rang forth. It was a recorded message; “Your internet connection will be disconnected in 24hrs – We have detected a hacking on your computer. Contact BT on… That’s as far I let the machine ramble on! I rang off, it must be a con of some sort being played on me.

I got opened a can of Chilli-Con-Carne into a saucepan, added some made-up vegetable gravy, and a drop of Hickory, and sliced some tomatoes to go in the mix, with just a sprinkle of  Balsamic vinegar. Got the oven warming to do some chips in.

I took the evening medications, making sure I took another Dioctyl® poop-softener, I don’t want to go through the same agony as this morning again.

The eyes were drooping, the back hurting. As often happens, I was feeling smidge rough around the edges. I quickly got the latest local Coronavirus figures.

Then got the nosh sorted and served up.

As tired as I was, the nosh, eaten slowly, well masticated and savoured, got a taste-rating of 8.8/10. I must write down the extras I put in this Chill-Con-Carne.

I got the pots washed, and settled down early for once, in search of sleep. Which arrived pretty quickly, and lasted unbroken for three hours, before I woke up with a start, in desperate need of a wee-wee!

Inchcock, Wed 2 Dec 20: Nottinghams answer to ambivalence

That’s my kind of salad Pattie! ♥

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Wednesday 2nd December 2020

Zulu: NgoLwesithathu 2nd December 2020

02:25hrs: I woke, in a generally more optimistic mood. I’ve not got the foggiest idea why? The dreaded ‘Hum’ was with us again, but not as loud as yesterday.

As I began assembling enough thoughts and ideas to start planning what needed doing, what day it was etc. the need for a wee-wee, worryingly urgently, arrived!

No EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) was in its usual position? So, obviously, I couldn’t have had one during the night. Maybe this is why the urgency was so acute?

The process of getting up, catching the balance (dodgily), hobbling in agony with the papule underfoot, getting to the WC, and taking the abysmally dribbling, weak, tinkle, took me a while.

And now here I was with the new Sainsbury’s substituted medium for large-sized Protection Pants, torn while dropping them, and lay down around my ankles! A flaming good start to the day! I saw that a bit of blood had leaked from Little Inchies fungal lesion – this is because Sainsbury’s substituted with smaller pants and they must have chaffed at the wound. I put on one of the old normal white PPs. So much for me waking up in a better frame of mind, that silly idea, soon dissipated!

As leaving after the kerfuffle and sorting out, I had to go back in, to use the Porcelain Throne! Do you know, ‘someone idiot warned me over 70 years ago, that a time will come as get old when I will be bored!’ He lied! Giggle!

However, the mode of evacuation was almost the opposite of Tuesdays. Trotsky Terence had the upper-hand today, a 2-1 win I’d say! It was grand not having to struggle, and besides that and also, there were only tiny bits of bleeding! Oh, yes! Mind you, it still hurt, just a lot less.

I got on with the Health Checks, remembering today (I forgot yesterday, but had the photos on the blog to find the numbers) to fill in the record logs. The Boot’s sphygmomanometer showed an increase in the SYS up to 161.

The Harpin Xian Di Thermometer was again in the green, at 36.4°c was about right methinks.

I took the medications. Having forgotten to take last nights yet again! I must remember to take the morning ones later on. Then, I went to make a brew and had a mind-bending experience… “I thought, I’ll have a mug of the decaffeinated crap, then I can tell the doctor the truth when I say, “Oh, yes, I’m drinking the Yorkshire brand of no tealess teabags, regularly” Ahem!

After getting the kettle on, I took three shots from the kitchens unliked, light & view-blocking new windows of the morning view. I tagged them together later, left, ahead and to the right order. I think it gives a better idea of the marvellous view I can get from my prison cell… erm… flat!

I used two tea bags in the little mug. Hopefully, this might produce a brew that resembles something like tea. I left the bags in for a full five minutes to mash properly, holding out high hopes of success. Ersatz Crap! But so as not to fib to the lady Gastroenterologist, I have two sips, before getting a proper mug of Glengettie made.

As I took the photo of the mug of tea, a message came up on the camera viewing screen; ‘This battery is empty’ – Oh! I got in on charging and using the old little Canon until the Nikon battery had been rejuvenated.

I got on with updating the Tuesday blog. It took a good few hours, but I got there in the end. Emailed the link, Pinterested some photos, and did the Facebooking catchup. Good timing as well, cause SSS (Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley) then started to kick-off, had she this earlier, I’d still be doing the updating about next Wednesday, judging by the way she is going at me at the moment. Within ten minutes, the joint was aching thanks to her concentrated attack!

Reading a blog from Doug, about his beloved cat Andy, brought back memories of Sister Janes, Fooey. A similar cat to Andy, but white. The poor chap had arthritis, went almost blind… and never lost his sociability with people. The noises he used to make… I loved that cat. He passed away, I think JAne said he was fourteen at the time. This is one of the last photos I took after he’s had a home-perm from Jane. I am not ashamed to say, looking at him, and writing this, I’m swelling up inside. Doug has recently lost Andy’s brother, Dougie. I hope this doesn’t upset him. I check his and Andy’s site on WordPress.

  I went on the WordPress Reader section, some interesting stuff on there today. Answered the flood of WordPress comments, both of them! You can see how popular my blog is, Hehehe!

Time to get the Ablutionalisationing tended to. And believe me, the teeth cleaning, shaving and showering, all went very well, remarkably so! Oh, yes, indeed!

The medicationalisationing was not so good! The spot or papule under the left foot, looks different today, just as painful, but like an ordinary spot? It had grown back as well, was no longer half-hanging off of the foot? Most peculiar! I spotted a little tiny new growth coming, below the little toe, that should be interesting, seeing what it turns out as, Haha!

The hardest part of this checking, was my getting my leg up on the right one, to take this photo. I dropped the camera, banged various part of my anatomy… several times, as SSS sent me all over the place hitting various parts of the wet-room furniture (No soft parts, of course) Getting the leg back down again, was slightly more serious, the shock from the pain of standing on the papule again, combined with SSS having another bash at me, Arthur Itis not liking the knee being bent, a toe-stubbing against the sock-glide, and bashing my knee against the shower chair… Well, it was interesting!

Foolishly, I sat down again to take a close up photograph of the veins in the left leg, I could only get it up to the right legs kneecap this time. I think I have a mini-vein eruption? Hahaha! Very pretty, all the same.

I put the fist of the Amazon pants on to try today. They look bigger than the Sainsbury ones – Der! they would, they are a size larger! See how quick I’d worked that out?

They are not the pattern or colour of those shown in on the  Amazon site, though, nothing like! Humph! As you can see, they are the same shade as the Sainsbury ones. No pattern to them. I felt a little cheated. Still, they are the right size, so they’ll have to do. The comfort and lack of warmth in then os on a par with the Sainbury wrong-size substituted ones, but I feel more confident that when the next ‘leak’ comes along, these will be more likely to cope with it.

The Phorpaining of Arthur Itis’s knees, SSS’s painfully aching shoulder, the Germoloiding of poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and even the Cortiscoid creaming of Little Inchies fungal lesion, all went well. Smug-Mode-Adopted! 

All dressed, I left the wet room and got straight on with the days handwashing. I did the bath towel I’d just used and jammy bottoms.

All washed, done, rung and hung above the sink. I then got the water spillages mopped up, laundry bottle cat found and retrieved. Then made up some small waste bags and put then in the box on top of the three-wheeled trolley guide, using the Nokia again now to take the photos, that charged up quick? Ah, done it again, I meant Nikon camera! 

As I got back on the computer to make a start on this post, some loud taps tapping and banging started from Herbert’s flat above, right above where I sat. It was so loud, and persistent for an hour or so that I imagine it would be some repairs being done for him. Or, he might have been making a real life-size train for his charity? Hahaha!

I made a brew, of Thompsons Punjana, and went on CorelDraw to make some graphics for the page tops of the diary. I was having a bit of bother with getting CorelDraw to work, and frustration and fatigue set in, so I turned off the whole computer, and got something to eat, anything easy to do, I was so tired.

I got thinking and opted to make something I could do all in one – so got the oven on, with fish strips, and potato-letters in the kiln. Sliced some tomatoes, put desserts on the trayed plate, and the banging, knocking and clumping started again. It was very closed and loud, I reckon it’s some upgrading work being done judging by the noises, it was being made by several people, it’s been on and off all day. This must be them rushing to get the work done before going home time. (Of course, I might be wrong about all of this, it has been known).

I got the rushed-meal served up, on the tray, and to the recliner I did stray, ‘Please stay wake’ I did pray, long enough to eat it.

I had a bit of help the instant I got done in the recliner with the food, the bang-bang banging, started again. It had a sense of it being rushed. Perhaps the lads were trying to get it done and over with quickly? It didn’t last long this last ‘Hurrah’, I assume the lads will be going home now. Will they, like Arnie, be back? Hahaha!

I’d put the TV on using the headphones to help mask the last of the banging session. Aha, Law & Order was on! I ate the meal (during which the banging stopped for the day), and I went to wash the pots. Then back down in the recliner.

My mind wanted to just sleep, and somehow avoided the Thought Storms, which was – Brilliant!

However, the body wasn’t so keen on kipping! A wee-wee was needed, and as I got up, I felt the splitting/cracking of the seal of the cortisone cream on Little Inchies fungal lesion; and the flow of blood starting!

Off to the wet room for investigating and medicationing. The bleeding was far less than I thought it was, and the Amazon-delivered PPs had coped well it, containment-wise. I washed and re-creamed Little Inchy, I got fresh PP’s on, and bagged up the old ones and took them to the waste bag box in the hallway.

By the time I’d got down again, the idea of getting to sleep was destroyed by the return of the Thought Storming. I’m not sure what time I drifted off, but it was hours later, after battling the guilts, shames and frustrations.

Yet, when I woke up, around 00:45hrs, it was with a slight spring in the air-feeling?

Inchcock, Nottingham’s Answer To Haemorrhoids – Tuesday 1st December 2020

One of the Younger TFZers! Haha! ♥

Tuesday 1st December 2020

Maori: Turei 1st o Tihema 2020

03:30hrs: Sometimes, one isn’t really, too keen on getting up, and would rather just lay there, and uhtceare instead, trying to avoid any dangerous or serious signs of any expergefactor that may be lurking. This was one of those mornings.

The oh, so late getting to sleep after yesterdays farcicalness, favourable moments, and frustrations, meant only four hours kip, and annoyingly when I did wake, it was one of those jump-awake ones. Cragnangles!

I rose from the recliner onto my feet, in need of a  wee-wee, and hobble to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and on the first shuffle of the feet, got an electric-shock like stabbings of pains from the papule underneath the left foot. I’ll have a check on it later, the plaster may have come off in the night and is pulling at the pimple?)

The Sainsbury’s substituted wrong-sized Protection Pants had not handled the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), and AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) well, at all. Also, they held less comfort and were not very warm to wear. Thank you, dear silly-Substitutes Lord Sainsbury, Baron, and Knight of the Garter. I hope your personal wealth increases from the current £1.4 billion. Carry on with stupid substitutes and it will. Better hurry though, after all, you are 93!

I went into a sort of auto mode then. Washed my hands, into the kitchenette and put the kettle on. I took some pictures from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new windows, to first try and get a decent shot of the moon. On taking the first effort, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) paid me a visit and left me with this almost looking like a lightning snap. So, had another bash, and got a fairish result.

I got a reasonable zoomed in a bit shot, of Sherwood, with Basford, Perry Road HMP, and the lights from Bulwell and the motorway on the horizon. (I know you can’t see them, but it makes me sound cleverer, Hahaha!) Then a blind shot of the car park below on Chestnut Walk, only one red car this morning. (I hope Billumski The Chairman and Director of the RCMS from Utah is making a note of this) As I got the brew of Glengettie made, SSS returned, and sheer good luck with her timing, meant no spillages or Accifauxpas. Good luck? For me, and so early in the day…? Nae, this can’t be right! You can take it from me, via my EQ, that summat Whoopsiedangleplopish is in the air and on the way!

I got the sphygmomanometer out, and the machine needed three goes to get it to work. Mind you, the reading was down a smidge more, for the third day on the trot! But I’m not getting excited about it, not with my luck. Egads, no!

The Chinese made contactless thermometer, made with plastic from India, and imported from Soth Korea, showed a temperature of 36.2° c. Which I think is not too bad at all. 

I got the medications out, and realised I had yet again, not taken last night’s! So, I did. Must remember to take the morning ones later on. Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got the computer on. I had to divert to the Porcelain Throne, then.

And, what a change in style that was today! I got seated, as directed by the gastroenterologist had advised me… well, commanded me really! The wait for any action to start was a long one. That’s when I got the crossword book from the cabinet. After an aeon or two of puzzling, I adopted the recommended straightening of the lower back while I was leaning and pushing the shoulders… Nothing happened… Apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda)  starting to give me a pasting! Granglesbognessbuggerit! I think she was still annoyed at my tumble last night.

Once a slight motion, a forced pone though, was felt, slowly, grindingly and needing painful encouragement, things eventually moved… reluctantly, painfully, and at a snail’s pace! I was close the giving out a, Argh!, but held it back.

No doubt about it, Trotsky Terence was whipped 5-0 by Constipation Konrad this time.

As I rose from the seat to have a decker at what had caused all this agony, I was taken aback by the amount of blood that had exited. I got myself cleaned up, washed the tender areas, and applied some very welcome Germoloid ointment to Harold’s Haemorrhoids! You should have seen my walk back to the kitchen, well, maybe not!

In keeping with my fantasmagorical luck, I now had several additional ailments to contend with all at the same time, which made hobbling somewhat difficult. Still, it must have been most hilarious for anyone to watch. The head was aching a bit from the fall, the lower back was being taken care of by a particularly, violent BPB, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids have rarely been more painful! Then Dizzy Dennis joined in as I was in the hallway – not again, I prayed! I don’t think I would be able to get back up again if I did topple over now.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, each one I’ve made has gone cold for one reason or another. Humph! I was showing no signs of wanting any breakfast today. But I did take an extra Dioctyl® poo-softener capsule (And another one later!)

I concentrated of updating the Monday blog. It took a while, and some odd noises were coming from somewhere nearby, sounded like someone was dropping wooden blocks repeatedly? I might be something going down the chute a little early? Anyway, I got the post finished and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and went on Pinterest, and it was soon time to get the ablutions done.

I took this shot of the moon on my way to the wet room.

At last, a decentish ablution session. It had it’s moments though. The dropsies were about average, I reckon.

The shaving was smidge hair-raising, and that’s not easy when you have no hair! Hahaha!

All the cuts and nicks were from the back of the neck. It’s not fair hair growing there and nowhere else! Snigger!

No shower today, the Iceland order is due, oh, and the Amazon PPs might be arriving today. After an easy medicationing session and getting dressed, I hand-washed the long-sleeve tee-shirt.

The day was breaking and the sky clearing, an amazing colour too. I managed to get a reasonably decent shot of the late moon before it disappeared.

Suddenly it very busy! The intercom rang, it was the Amazon man with the PP’s for me. He came up and put them in the hallway for me. Followed by the Iceland driver, he also put the bags into the hallway for me, bless ’em both.

I took the carriers through to the kitchen, intending to sort out the frozen and fresh stuff first. But I was so interested in seeing the new PP’s I couldn’t resist sorting them first instead.

I got the box onto the server in the kitchen and struggled a bit to get the plastic cover off of the box. It was only thin material, but by gum it strong!

I got it off in the end! I wish they would sell them of this strength to use as bin bags, I made up[ waste bags as I went along.

The three packs of eight looked similar to the other ones from Sainsbury’s, but were cheaper and the correct size.

I’ll try them on afterwards I thought, then changed my mind, I’d got the Sainsbury ones on at the time. They are not very warm and a little small, if I had a bad leakage, I don’t think they would cope with the amount of blood. I put them in the wet room with the others and sorted the groceries out.

Oh, dearie me, what have I done here? I’d ordered in error, two bags of the frozen meatballs, also two of the fish strips in the batter. I imagine because they were on offer if you bought two, I’d unthinkingly ordered two of each. No way will I have space in the freezer for them all! I struggled to make room for one of each in the freezer.

I’ll see if Jenny can use the others. The other bits went in the fridge, okay, mind. I cleared up[ a bit (when I say a bit, I mean it! Haha!), and got the bags with the fodder in, and a box of waste-bags on the trolley.

I set out, with intentions of going to Jennys (I phoned her on my way, with my new Samsung-Galaxy S20 Ultra-mobile, 512MB, £1,399 for 128GB storage, with its gargantuan 6.9in display, and hole-punch camera, and ‘Space Zoom 100x’), and then to go and see Deana and Julie, then back to the flats and put the rubbish bags in the waste chute. But life is never that clear-cut for a twit like me!

Then a series of Inchcock-Hiccups followed!

I dropped the bag at Jenny’s, bless her, she said she’d keep the fish and meatballs in her fridge of a few days until I get the room in my freezer, to take them back. Appreciative of Jen’s help, and feeling in higher spirits now, I set of in the lift down to the ground floor. I met the caretaker, and he took the bags off of me. After a little natter, I limped along Chestnut Way to Winwood Court, and Deana’s Interrogation Cells. (Haha!)

As I arrived at the Winwood doors, I realised I had left the wrong bag with Jenny! What a pillock! So I had to go back to Jenny’s to swap the carriers. She was very understanding about it and met me at the door, and we exchanged the containers. I was feeling a little silly, but worse was to come later!

I made my way back down and out to Winwood Court again. As I approached the lobby, I realised I did not have a keyfob with me. Glory-Be and Granglesbognessbuggerit!!! Then a stroke of luck! A workman was entering the building, and I tagged on behind him and got in! Had a chinwag with Deana and Julie, told them of my cock-ups, that made them laugh.

Back to Woodthorpe Court. Where Robert let me in through his side door! And I made my way back up to the flat. I was feeling rather foolish at my Accifauxpas and was beginning to get annoyed with myself.

I made a brew of Glengettie, surely this time, I can get to drink one? But, no! Not yet! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters let me down, just I picked up the brewed mug of tea – on the Silver lining side, the mug fell in the plastic waste bin and not the floor, so didn’t break! Unfortunately, I scolded my wrist and spilt tea on my trousers, which didn’t do the legs any favours! Then I had to clean everything up! I was tired out and on the verge of getting depressed now!

Gone my head-down time. But, Jenny had told how to cook the meatballs, I had planned to have chips with them, but cooking the balls in the oven, I decided on having potatoes, peas and gravy. I got the oven on. And checked on comments on WordPress

I’ll get the meal served up then. Fingers crossed. Jenny was right when she told that doing the meatballs in the oven, they would come out crispy. They did, and I liked them. Added them to the peas and potatoes in the big saucepan, made some thick gravy and added it to the mix, and warmed through. Got the pots made a mess off washed, stirring the mix in between. Got it dished up and enjoyed the Flavour-Rated 7/10 meal with some bread thins to soak up the gravy—a lemon yoghourt for afters. I was getting more and more tired, so I got up to get the pots washed properly, in case I fell asleep and dropped the tray etc.

Settled in the recliner, drained mentally, wanting to free the eyelids to do what comes naturally. The absence of any Thought-Storms was appreciated. But the vacuum left in my hypnagogic state was filled with a blankness that was not blank… hard to explain. Still, weird worries drifted in, and, more disturbingly, were treated with contempt and annoyance at their even being there?

I must have fallen asleep, cause I woke up at 02:20hrs.

Inchcock, Mon 30 Nov 20: Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpas, Tumbles, Blood and Pain. All normal then!

A TFZer Winner, Yaa-Hoo!


Monday 30th November 2020

Hawaiian: Pōʻakahi 30th Nowemapa 2020

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00:10hrs: I woke up, belched, and thought about getting up and fell peacefully asleep again.

01:05hrs: I woke up, passed wind, thought about getting up, fell asleep again.

01:45hrs: I woke up, sneezed, shivered, thought about getting up, but didn’t fall to sleep again. But not through any determination to get up and actually do anything – I needed a wee-ee!

The first thing that permeated into my foggy brain was that the blasted ‘Hum’, was the loudest it has ever been! Like steam or water belting out of the pipe, or a wind constantly blasting away! How anyone with decent hearing can put up with this amazes me!

I disentangled my boing-boinging, wobbly-stomached torso from the c1968 recliner, and caught my balance, and with the new underfoot papule stinging like hell, hobbled off to the bucket. A wee-wee of the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) free, SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) mode was taken.

I went to fetch the Health Check gear, and the view was of darkness, a mist concealing nearly all the lights from view. I got the Nokia camera out and took this photograph, although there is not much to be seen. Ah, I’ve done it again, I meant Nikon of course.

Just testing to see if you were paying attention. Har-har!

I used the contactless thermometer this morning, to take the temperature with.

A fair reading showed up, of 36.5°c. A little higher than yesterdays low reading of 36.1°c.

While setting up the sphygmomanometer, I had a visit from SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and dropped the machine. I swore silently, but proliferously, and retrieved the hemadynamometer, to find it still worked. Phew!

At first try, it failed to work, as has been happening the last few days. The second attempt went okay, but the SYS was smidge up on what yesterdays were, at 168, the pulse was 92, a little high? Mmm?

I got the medications sorted next. Remembering to take the Dioctyl® capsule.

Off for another wee-wee, of the same model as the first one. that turned into a Porcelain Throne visit as well. An interesting one this was. A draw 1-1 between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad. Terribly messy, but with little pain, no concrete torpedos, and relatively swift. Cleaning up afterwards was not so much hassle as yesterday’s evacuation.

Washed and wiped around, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, took a photo of the foggy but getting less so view from the kitchen window, and pressed on with the updating of yesterdays diary.

Which was all done and dusted within a few hours. The post sent to WordPress, and the email link sent off. The Facebooking was done. I visited the WordPress Reader section, and got the kettle on again, for a mug of Glengettie.

There had been a mass of comments come for my followers and fans again. I replied to both of them.

I began creating this diary and had a slight going-off the plan moment, and stopped to get the handwashing tackled. Just a long-sleeved tee-shirt was washed, rung and hung above the sink to drain-off for a few days. Hehehe!

Then I thought, I’d get the ablutions done, the full-monty today. The teggies cleaned. A nice slow, careful, shaving session, a gloriously lazy slow and long shower, using the new lemon-scented shower-gel. A steady drying off, the medicationalisationings, deodorising, and maybe then make a brew of Glengettie.

Then I stripped off to get in the wet room and commenced with cleaning the teeth, first. It was a mixed bag of a session, but I think more pluses than minuses.

Ablutionalisation Report:

  • The teggies were cleaned well, without any bleeding! One dropsy
  • The shaving was done leisurely. Three dropsies, only two nicks, nowt to fret over.
  • Getting in the shower, I caught the underfoot papule against shower chair moving it. Argh!
  • As planned for once, I deliberately took my time and wallowed in the showering process! No knocks, bangs or Dizzy Dennis visits! But the dropsies were about ten. Nicodemus, the swine!
  • The drying off was Accifauxpa-Free! One dropping of the towel and nothing knocked off of the floor cabinet (First time for a long time this!)
  • The medicationalisationing seemed to take aeons. But this was expected. Getting the antiseptic cream on the papule nearly had me over, saved by the wall, Hehehe!
  • Harolds Haemorrhoids attentions were not so bad this morning.
  • Arthur Itis’s knees and Cartilage Kathy were okay!
  • I’m afraid that applying the Phorpain Gel to BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), seemed to annoy her, and she started off. Humph!
  • I spotted some spots on the right hand and tried to wipe them off. But, they were under the skin? Not the foggiest idea what they were, but no pain with them? Later on, they moved around the palm, then practically disappeared altogether?
  • Time to try on the new PPs (Protection pants). I saw another of the mystery growths on the right leg as I checked this photo out? But at least they fitted, but too tightly!  Well, they would with Sainsbury’s substituting medium for large size ones I suppose! I’ve had no leaks form front or back today (yet), si I don’t know how they will cope in the event of any matter or blood loss. But at least they can be used, but just not with much confidence.

I got dressed and got some late brekkers sorted out. A BBQ flavour Super-Noodle, with added Balsamic vinegar and an oxo cube crushed in it, with a few slices of Milk Roll bread to soak up the gravy. Bit of a delight this was, tasty!

I rang Deana to ask her about the progress with the Chemist call, no reply, I’ll call again later on. Got on the computer to start this blog off. (Deja Vu?) The door chimes rang out. (It was Josie returning yesterdays plate, tray and cutlery from her Sunday lunch) She said she enjoyed it, especially the cheesy buttered potatoes. Which pleased me.

  Back to the computer and kicked off doing this blog, at long last. I was well into it, and I an email from Amazon, telling me the order for the jammie-bottoms had been delivered as; ‘Handed to the client’ – You’ll like this upcoming little ‘Tale of Woe’ (I hope).

  • I was worried that they might have been delivered to the wrong block of flats again. So I went to have a look outside of the door just in case they had been left there – Nope!
  • I closed the door and turned round to come back to the main room, and tripped over whatever it was, and ended up, after a bit of wall-bouncing off of, spreadeagled in a lump on the floor – I could feel the blood flowing into the left slipper.  The pain told me it was the papule. (That might have been torn from the skin in the Accifauxpa)
  • Now, not only was I a pain in the neck, but I had one as well! Haha!.
  • I somehow got myself back up on my feet and turned the light on, To find that what I’d tumbled over, was the small packet that contained the jammie-bottoms! It had been posted through the letter-box and had flown to the other side of the hall.
  • I believe I quietly muttered some to the tune of, “Well, I never!”, or “Flippin’ ‘eck”!

I got myself in the wet room and investigated the left foot problem. The slippers inside were well bloodied, but the flow seems to have stopped now. I put some Germolene and plaster on the half-hanging-off papule.

I seemed very calm over these calamities and ensuing. No fretting, panicking, swearing… Well, after the initial few mild oaths).

I swapped slippers, threw the old ones away in the bin, and back to the hallway, to replace the bottles of spring water, the readied Christmas presents and clothes and hats I’d knocked off of the coat hooks in my tumble, and tidied things up. Not a lot, mind!

Now, I had the papule and BPB making any physical activity, painful. And was growing a smidge of self-pity. I mean, how many other people have incidents like this? They must do, but don’t advertise them on the web? Hahaha!

As I got back to the computer, my Nokia 8000 4G, Qualcomm MSM8909 Snapdragon 210 (28 nm), WLAN Hotspot, GPS & S-GPS, FM Radio, LED Flash, MicroUSB, Bluetooth, mobile. rang. (Sniggerski!) It was Warden and Pole-Dancer Deana. She’d rung the Pharmacy for me, and they are delivering the prescriptions for me this afternoon, sometime after 15:00hrs!

That cheered me up a ton and-a-half! So much so, that after thanking her kindly for her help, I stood up without thinking, to go and make a brew of Glengettie in celebration of the good news, and almost found myself back on the floor, as the papule gave me such stinging! Flunglegagit!

I made the mug of Glengettie, and I returned to the computer. Contentedly at first, then I realised I’d have to stay up and awake, and await the arrival of the medications. Humph!

I got some drinkies in a carrier bag and placed them near to the door. In case the chemist’s beautiful daughter brought the prescription for me, as a thank you come Christmas treat!

Then I felt up to checking out the jammie-bottoms that had been delivered.

Gawd blimey, they were so thin! Mind you, they had to be for the delivery man to have posted them through the letter-box, I suppose. Tsk!

As I was trying to make another start at updating this blog, the landline burst forth with tone and flashing! It was Sister Jane. She was ringing from the QMC hospital, where she had had treatment for her right eye, she still can’t see out of it. Glaucoma treatment, Laser treatments, more to come, got to go back Wednesday for more attention. She took a movie on her camera of the procedure, that tickled the nurse. Pete was not allowed to go in with her. And Pete has his own problems with his cancer! Losing his hair with the radiation treatments is annoying him. She is having YAD treatment at the moment. I’ll look that up later.

We had a good chinwag, she was waiting for her number to come up, for her to go for the YAD treatment at the time. Jane could hear the tap-tapping from Herbert above, and she knew where it was coming from. Yet it wasn’t bothering me. (Not surprisingly, the new slipper I could feel filling up with blood again, BPB was so cruel to me, and the bang on the head I took, was giving me a headache like never before, it was well gone my head downtime, I had to stay awake for the prescriptions, I was aching all over, and had missed taking the tablets.) Still, yer doesn’t like to complain does yer? Hahahaha!

Jane had to ring off when her number in the queue flashed up. I hope things go well for her, and hubby Pete. ♥ I am so terribly proud of the pair of them. They are not used to all this hospitalisationing, and various treatments are new to them, yet they are coping so well with it. They now understand I think, what I’ve been going through. But it is far, far worse for them, and once again, I am so impressed with how they are managing.

I made up some more waste bags, got them on the box on the trolley, and took them to the waste chute. The papule (or whatever it is) seemed to be less bothersome now? I’m not complaining! I got the bags down the chute and hobbled back to the flat.

A brew of Glengettie tea was made, to the computer, and I took the belated medications, with an extra Codeine 60mg. BPB was getting worse, I might have twisted the back as I toppled over, I suppose.

I stopped and nipped to the wet room to check on the plaster and papule. The bleeding had stopped altogether. Why I thought I felt it bleeding again is a mystery?

I still couldn’t concentrate on blogging properly. Thinking of Jane took my mind back to so many years ago.

I dug this photo out, and photo’s it from the scrapbook. Jane on the left, me with hair and no belly in the middle, and Christine on the right, and all three of us having medical attention’s. Jane, with her right eye, Chrissie, who has got the Coronavirus (Living on the South Coast now, I think), and me. The picture prompted the Thought-Storms then, but they were good ones! Although twinged with sadness, of course.

It was so late now, I was fighting not to fall asleep and miss the medications arriving. I investigated the thoughts of what to have to eat, and opted for a can of Chilli-Con-Carne, and the meatballs in chilli! I got them in the saucepan and added some balsamic vinegar and a drop of made up Oxo.

Thank heavens, the intercom flashed and buzzed shortly afterwards. It was the lovely girl from the chemist delivering the prescriptions for me. I thanked her and handed over the carrier of Christmas treats.

Then, stupidly tried to do some updating on this blog. I wasn’t up to it, concentration is gone, and in desperate need of sleep, I hope I can stay awake long enough to eat the Tim Price Impressing, Chilli-Con-Carni and meatballs (I just stirred them, and they are hotter than I expected). Haha!

I hope to wake up sometime later and update this blog. Huh! I’ve got to get to sleep first. Fingers crossed, I’ll get the fodder done and eaten first!

Well, that went well. The Chill meatballs and Con-Carne together with a stop of balsamic vinegar, went down a treat. Absolutely on my limit for hotness, yet I loved it, no chance of nodding off while eating this concoction!

I got the plate etc. in the sink soaking with the saucepans and cutlery.

Regrettably, despite my assured feeling that sweet Morpheus would soon enfold in a blissfully deep, rejuvenating sleep, proved so wrong!

The Thought-Storms stampeded into my already befuddled brain, it was like being forced to listen to a  Dessert Island Discs programme on Radio Four! I was not interested in my fears, worries, or guilt, but there was no stopping them all-permeating into my psyche. I felt like just one person, watching a harrowing mystery play that I could not understand, and the doors were locked, I had to suffer…

And I did! It took hours before I nodded off! At least I managed about four hours before I woke up, in one of those rare, unaccountable ‘Up and at them’ awakenings, Dammit!

 

Inchcock, Nottingham’s Catnapping, Somnolence expert: Sunday 29th November 2020

I’m sending wishes through the ether, that this will happen! ♥

Sunday 29th November 2020

Sunday 29th November 2020

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01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a narcoleptic? Why I ask? I’m still waiting for an answer. Hehehe!

The mind seemed to be more responsive as well, the thoughts seemed more apparent when I talked to myself. A degree of uncustomary determination lingered as well; The Sainsbury order is due early today, Josie’s meal needs preparing and delivering, and I recalled that I’d put the new tube of Germoloid in the wet room.

I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.

So, I removed my overly-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, dirty, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and up onto the feet to catch my balance. And this, usually a struggle at times, even causing Accifauxpas, was done with fantastic ease! Grabbed Metal-Micky, and was so glad I did, cause, en route to the kitchen, I had a bit of a wobbly, had I not got the stick, I could easily have gone over. I put the kettle on.

Musing over what a mixed start to the day it’d been so far, and I’d only been up for a few minutes? It was foggy outside, and it looked so cold with it, I decided against taking any open window photographs.  Made the brew, and back to the ottoman get the Health Checks done, all in auto-mode.

The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. The thermometer showed a lower temperature too, at 36.1°c.

My aboulomania flourished, as I thought about what to do about the missed medications. I took the evening ones as I did yesterday, and must remember to take the morning ones later on. 

Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine?

Instead of getting on with the computerisationing as I always do after the balance, and health checks and medication taking: Amazingly, I got the dark blue zip-up jerkin hand-washed? All done, wrung and hung on the coathanger to dry, but why?

Got the computer on, and instead of cracking on with the IT diary updating, I went on Facebook updating?

Finally, I went onto the updating of the Diary. A long job, but as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades-Sandra were all in a good mood with me, I got it completed reasonably quickly. (This was worrying – something going right!)

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, off to the wet room. The daily battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad was a massive defeat for Konrad, 4-0. Talk about yucky, a monstrous, messy, mass, manoeuvred into the bowl. A lot of effort needed to clean things furniture-wise and bodily followed—a good wash around, and back to the Computer.

Posted the diary off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and Pinterested a few snaps from the post. Then made a start on this template.

Around 06:00hrs, I heard a shuddering clunk, it sounded like it was from close-by. I had a poddle around in my bestest Sherlock Holmesian style, but could not find what it was that caused it? I hope no one has had a fall above me.

I started this writing for a while but had to stop. The ablutions needed doing, so I would be all prepared in time, in the case of the Sainsbury order arriving on the button at eight o’clock.

Back in a bit… I hope!

I’m back! I got sidetracked again going to get the ablutions done. I went hand-washing mad again. (No, I don’t know why either, it must be the bang on the head? Hehehe!)

I have to say, although it was a stand-up wash and shave, it went tremendously well. No teeth problems, only one cut shaving, only two items knocked off of the cabinet and no more than ten dropsies in total. More good fortune! (Even more worrying, especially with the Sainsbury order coming, overcharging and bad subs will almost certainly come with the food? – My EQ has just warned me!)

As I was getting staggering around getting dressed, and putting on a slipper, a sharp pain was felt underfoot! The sort you get when you stand on something sharp, or a shard of glass. It was hard-work, painful, plaguy and galling, taking a photo of the wound. The Robert Morley like stomach tended to get in the way, Haha! I think it was a new papule coming up. Gawd it didn’t half sting when I put the foot down.

Sorry about the photo coming out in mono. Yet another mysterious wonder of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their Satanic mission, to hinder, scare, blight, embarrass, manacle, and throw a spanner in Inchcocks works, plans, hopes, and confidence! Which they succeeded in, but they usually do!

I took some photographs from the unliked kitchenette window. The fog (when writing this six hours or so later) only got thicker as the day went on. Oh, dear!

Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe!

Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on.

Incidentally, the wee-wees were few and far between today. I just thought I’d mention it like.

Moments later, the intercom rang out and lit up. T’was the Sainsbury order arriving. The driver’s first words were; “Sainsbury order, are you coming down to pick the stuff up?” I gave an “Oh… well, I’ll have to, I suppose!” I farted about getting a mask on, and the intercom went again. The driver asked if we had a lift. I said yes, and he said he’d bring the stuff up then. Thank heavens for that!

He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.

Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been substituted with smaller-size ones!

Plus, they were different from each other? I’d ordered two large size packets, but these were both medium-sized ones.

Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not!

Then there was the lamentable, regrettable, disappointing, ill-advised, and stupid replacement for the delicious Potato cakes, Pikelets! Humph!

JS Pikelets, the only similarity being that they both have six items in the packet! I’d have thought the clue, ‘Potato’ might have prevented such an idiotic, inane, imbecilic, exasperating substitution, but no! (I think J Sainsbury and Morrisons are competing to get the annual, SSOTY (Stupidest-Substitution-of-the Year award). From my experience, it is a draw at the moment. They could have subbed with Irish Potato Farls, surely?

Thank heavens I ticked the ‘No Substitution’ option for the toothpaste, else I may have had a jar of pickled walnuts delivered, as well!

The Milk Roll loaf had one days life on it! Oh, and plain digestive biscuits came covered in chocolate. But I’m not complaining about that, there is a chance or even likelihood, that I ordered the wrong one, so fair do’s on that score.

Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles!

I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.

The only thing that pleased me was that they had sent the cheapo (60p) Chilli-Con-Carne, (Morrisons had substituted their (59p) one, with £2.58 substitutes!) 

So, now I have a good stock of CCC in the kitchen, not the cupboard, that is already full. Hehehe!

Also, the can of Fray Bento’s meatballs in Chilli sauce, that can now be added to a tin that Hubbard’s (Sainsbury own label) Chilli Con Carne, making an easy peasy meal one day soon?

I’ll not starve for a bit, anyway. I may have a heart attack or another stroke, but still, it’s summat to look forward to – the Chilli, not the snuffing it! Glad I cleared that up!

I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.

Then sorted the unwanted good from J Sainsbury’s crap substitutes and my possible (I think it was!) error on the chocolate biscuits I shouldn’t eat. Ahem! To take them down to Jenny’s, with some treats for Nora and Frank of the alcoholic variety. Hehe!

Of I poddled down in the lift to deliver the unwanted crap substitutes from J Sainsbury’s to Jenny’s. Who can use them as part of her charity, or whatever? They always get used to help others, with Jenny in control. Bless her!

I made a call before leaving, to Jen, to moan, lament, and bicker about the substitutions again. Hehe! And let her know I was on my way. Down and delivered them, back up and put the stuff in the waste chute on my floor.

I had a look on the Wilko site, as Jenny suggested to see if they had any PPs on sale. It was a £50 limit to get free delivery, or a minimum £10 charge. They only had a couple of men’s pants, and they were not cheap.

So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size.

I then tended to prepare Josie’s meal sorted out. It was hard work doing it up today, not sure why. The cheesy potatoes were a little loose, I’d but in too much butter. But I think she likes them like that.

I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well.

Please, I came back to the flat, did the washing up from the first nosh, and started updating the blog. Gawd this took me hours and hours! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had kicked off, creating error after mistake after cock-up! It was a frustrating time, and in the end, I had to give up.

I got my nosh going. I’m sure I’d ordered some battered fish on Iceland’s order, so to make room for them in the freezer, I had some, with the potato letters and peas.

I was suddenly all in again. No concentration left, and the right side of me was jumping and jerking, shoulder (SSS), and leg, which was threatening to do a Neuropathy Pete involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. But it didn’t, just stayed with its mini-palpitations throbbing away to its heart’s content.

I’ll have to finish this in the morning.

Good morning!

I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. I was wearied, worn-out and worryingly hebetudinous. But, hunger helped me continue. The meal was worth 6.5/10, no doubt a reduced rating, due to my being so done-in.

I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I?

It didn’t matter, cause I fell asleep again!

When I stirred once more, minutes later, I must have been dreaming about this quandary over the tub of dessert, because I found myself reaching for the yoghourt ith the long picker-upperer, and throwing it in the waste bin. How I managed this physically was something of a miracle. Did I actually do it, or imagined doing it? Will I wake up in the morning and tread on it? On and on the Thought-Storms raged!

Looking back, I wasn’t even sure that I wasn’t dreaming all of this?

I nodded off again, waking up again, wanting a wee-wee. As I had got up and was catching my balance, the agony from the mystery growth under the foot, made me jump a bit, no a lot! Got the wee-wee taken, staggered untidily to wash my hands, back to the c1968 recliner, got down painfully on the ringed cushion, (I’d missed the centre and started Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging). I added recent events to the notepad. (Not that I could read the scrawl easily in the morning)

Oh, dearie me, I’d left the light on! Crying was an option, but self-loathing was stronger, and I silently cursed myself, got up to turn off the light, and suffered when the new papule, or whatever it is under the foot gave me more discomfort.

I think I had another discussion with the boss, Mr G. Mostly inquiring as to why he bothered to let me be born, maltreated me. Gave me so many defeats in life. And was now giving me agony, frustrations and confidence-destroying failures? I got no answers!

Failing to get back to sleep, I realised as I lay there discussing things with the Thought-Storm, I probably deserve the luck I’m getting, fir things I have done in early life. I tried to recontact Mr G and apologised for bothering him.

Guilt? Yes!

Inchcock – Fri 27 Nov 20: Cognitively declined, tired and mentally confused. Hey-Ho!

TFZers in the Garden – What’s going on, though?

Friday 27th November 2020

Dutch: Vrijdag 27 November 2020

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23:45hrs: I woke up suddenly, to suffer the headache-giving wild Thought-Storms bounding about ricochetting off of each other, and making little sense, as they fought each other to be the one to send me daft, demented or doolally! I had a minute or two of semi-panic.

Now, this is hard for me to explain with any clarity, but, I’ll try: I was (I think) dreaming it – and seemed to wake up a second time, and the flaming Thought-Storms were still there! They then died away within seconds, and Anne Gyna took over as the worrying-stakes lead-tormenter. Gawd almighty, she was giving me some stick!

No wee-wee or Porcelain-Throne visits were needed, so I knew something in the brain, body or both was amiss!

I battled bravely and got my Brobdingnagian-blubbery-bellied body up onto its feet. Taking extra care to avoid another Accifauxpa like yesterday (Harolds Haemorrhoids are still suffering from it!). I took my time and did the balance-regaining exercises, following the instructions (painfully) from the After-Stroke Team to the letter! And made my way into the kitchenette, to get the important thing done – make a brew of Glengettie tea.  Snortle!

The wee-weeing started, let’s take it as if they were approximately three-an-hour, that’ll save me time and typing. Thank you.

I got the kettle on, made the brew, and got the Health checks done. The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer didn’t work first time again, did on the second attempt. Giving a slightly lower SYS of 161, and a higher DIA of 80. The pulse was spot on the button, at 70 BPM.

The new contactless thermometer gave a satisfactory 35.°c reading. In the green again. Yee-Haa!

When it came to taking the medications – Boing! I found I’d missed taking last night’s pot, again! So took the evening ones and added a Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule. I will take the morning ones, later on, around 5-6 o’clock, but must remember to take out the Dioctyl®!

Started the updating of the Thursday IT diary. And it took me hours and hours. Not because of Nicodemus, BPB, SSS or Neuropathy Pete dancing, indeed only BPB was any bother at all, and she was a lot less harrowing than yesterday! (Inward-Smile emerging). Anne Gyna was still in destruct-mode, but this did not affect my typing at all, my concentration, yes! The photographs I’d taken yesterday, on my ill-judged trip to town were the greatest time-taker-upper job.

I pressed on merrily and got the updating finished. It cost me until 05:00hrs, but I was reasonably pleased with the results. Got the blog posted off to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps and emailed the link. Then the overdue summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, I wobbled off to the wet room.

I get confused at how the evacuations change in style every day lately. This morning’s effort had  Constipation Konrad as the clear 2-0 winner over Trotsky Terence. Which meant the pain when passing had to be endured again. That, I wasn’t too pleased about.

So I took an extra Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule afterwards, as I made a new mug, this time of Thompsons Punjana tea, and got back to the computing. I did the Facebook updating first, then answered some WordPress comments, well, The comment. Hehe!

I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great stuff on there today. Then I started on today’s post. I was getting into it and realised I’d not drank the Punjana! So went to make a brew of Glengettie to replace the gone cold tea. (I do a lot of that!)

05:20hrs now, I took the belated morning medications, but forgot to take the poo-softener out of the pot first! Now I could be in more bother! The next visit to the Throne could well be one of the messier variety! Message to Self: Concentrate when taking your tablets. Idiot!

I received the local Email letter, and a few items were of disappointing news:

  • 65 Covid Deaths reported in Nottinghamshire in seven days!
  • Nottingham has been plunged into Tier 3

Time for some brekkers methinks. I got some potatoes in the crock-pot.

The top came off pf the Soy sauce bottle, and instead of a couple of shakes of sauce going in, it was half the bottle! Hehehe!

I made the breakfast-noodles, adding some gravy seasoning to it. I shan’t be adding gravy seasoning to any more of them; it was not very nice.

Then, I turned my keen, educated, efficient, diligent, alert, receptive, bright, and concentratedly-reliable attentions, to getting the Ablutions done.

The session went reasonably well; apart from the teeth bleeding, three cuts shaving, a mega-drop of the showerhead that hit me on the knee with a fair wallop, a bang against the left grab-rail – quickly followed by a knock against the right grab-rail. The cap came off of the lemon shower gel, and (albeit not too bad a one), a toe-stubbing on the sock-glide. I knocked over the Germolene, Olive oil dropper and the Daktacort. (the Daktacort is still missing), and approximately twelve dropsies, it went well.

I finished the medications, got dressed, and sorted out some waste bags to go to the chute room. Added the bottles for the glass bin to the box, on the trolley and off out, to the chute first, then down and Stewart took the bottles from me. I limped along to see omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Pole Dancer, and Warden Deana, to ask for help with sorting the prescriptions out for next month.

She was in when I arrived, but busy, of course. I explained about someone from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, told the Doctors receptionist they would not delivery the prescriptions anymore. I needed clarification on this, before next Friday when they are due. Whichever, yay or nae to delivering, I need to know the date I can arrange to pick them up, then a volunteer needs to be searched for, this is why I am asking a week in advance, last month there was no answer to Deana’s calls at all. But, they are Volunteers! Deana will call them next week, Monday or Tuesday for me. I thanked her and returned to the Woodthorpe lobby.

Back up to the flat and set to work on updating this blog.

The landline chimed out and burst-forth with flashing. It was Sister Jane, I got an update with their medicalisational activities. They are as busy as I am nowadays.

Pete has to have another Cat Scan, then meet with his Doctor this Monday, then on

Jane & Pete

the following Monday, a Pet Scan, and meet his Doctor. Then, has to have his bone-morrow tested again! Porr cocker! The lad is not used to all this medicationalisationing stuff. But he’s catching up, and I think coping well with it.

Jane says she is catching up with me in the Whoopsiedangleplop stakes Haha! She’s put two does of drops in her eye this morning! (Copy-Cat! Hahaha!) She thinks there is some shadow recognition, no proper vision yet. Well done, Pete and Jane!

Well, I must get some graphics done in advance, and I hope I can stay awake long enough to get some templates made up for future use for the diaries.

As I struggled to glean enough concentration from working on CorelDraw and WordPress to make the headers, Herbert kicked off ith his noise again. I was tired again and irritable with myself. Constantly making mistakes and having to correct them, making the time tool grow by hours! It was well passed my head-down time, but a new determination and commitment to get them done was with me.

Herbert continued with his clattering, I wonder what he is making, I’ve never heard these type of reverberating noises before. Still, him being a deipnosophist, garrulous, or a lover of persiflage. More a sort of taciturn chap. So, I’ll never know. Hehe!

I’ve never had a train set, you know. Just thought I’d mention it!

Suddenly it was getting dark. I made a brew and took this picture.

Although I was struggling with my concentration on CorelDrawing and the template making, I was enjoying doing it, especially after Herbert had quietened down bless him.

I took a break, made a brew, had a wee-wee, and got the Cilli-Con-Carne with added passata and gravy in the saucepan, and got two brown baguettes out to oven bake later to have with the meal.

Little did I know that it would be several more hours before this occurred! On and on with the template-making, I plodded, but in a semi-contented fashion, I admit. Saccades Sandra was making vision difficult.

But then Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, reconnected, and for hours! I made the most of it, and continued graphicalisationing with gusto!

I had another break, and went to check on the cooking, turned the heat down, had a wee-wee, washed, and when I returned to the kitchen, I took a photo of the beautiful night sky. Took the first shot, and viewing it, though, hell there’s a fire on the horizon in Nottingham?

I took two more zoomed-in pictures. It seemed to me that they were coming from near the Victoria flats? I got the news on the computer, but there was no mention of any fire in Nottingham?

  I, at long last, got them all completed (The templates). A mixture of pride and weariness was being enjoyed… When I smelt the burning! Argh!

Oh, dearie me! The baguettes are going to need soaking in gravy to eat them without breaking any more teeth! Guffaff!

So, I turned off the computer and served up the meal. But there was no way I could eat much of it, I was just too drained mentally.

Most of it was thrown out, bread and yoghourt as well. A lot of cleaning up was tended to as well. I took a shot of the late evening view, imbibed the medications, had a wee-wee, washed, and checked the kitchen for anything left dangerously.

I think I may have scorched the skin a bit when I got the baguettes out of the oven, only to throw them away. Humph!

Stripped off, got the jammie bottoms on, and down into the c1968 recliner.

Getting to sleep was no problem tonight. Mind you, it was five hours later than my usual kipping time. I just knew it was going to be a marathon, and getting up would be an unwilling struggle.

Inchcock Today – Thurs 26 Nov 20: I escaped to town on L9 bus – A Mistake!

Hello, hello! What’s going on?

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Thursday 26th November 2020:

Welsh: Dydd Iau 26 Tachwedd 2020:0

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01:25hrs: As I stirred into imitation life, I spotted the untaken evening medications pot. I wondered why I’ve suddenly started to miss taking them so often, lately?

My mind was working away, alright. No thought-storming, just a gentle, unfathomable dribble of inanities, and confusion of half-worked out worries and problems – that dissipated as quickly as they arrived? Being replaced in perpetuity, with the need for a wee-wee.

 I encouraged the even greater-sized, fat-covered stomach to join the rest of the body in getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. Some gnawing pains and a eurgh or two, a couple of boing-boings as the body-mass settled, and I was up catching my balance – but not well enough!

My balance did not equilibrise, and I tumbled back down into the recliner with a sickening thud! I hope that the neighbours didn’t hear it!

Which promptly set off BPB (Back-Pain Brenda), PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), and Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding. Not to mention that I clouted my right elbow on the arm of the chair! I had to get back up to check the injuries over and clean up the fungal lesion.

Usually, I’d do this in the wet room, but had a tube of the Daktacort on the ottoman with the Health Check stuff. So I got on with most awkward and painful needs first—cleaning and stopping Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, and applying the cortisone ointment.

Which, of course, was of no bother to a brave, heroic, healthy, young man like me. (Snortle!) Argh!

I used the also handily placed Phorpain gel, on the knees, and where I could reach around the folds of gross flab around the midriff, to BPB’s dwellings. A reasonably well-sized bruise was developing on the elbow.

Well, I’ve been awake for how long now? Ages! And I am still within four feet of the rickety-recliner, and still desperate for a wee-wee! Positively, not one of the best starts to a day I’ve not.

I considered having a few more words via prayer, with the Boss. But, being as my last week’s ecclesiastical discussion didn’t help any, I went for a wee-wee instead! A need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time.

This session was the easiest, and least painful one I’ve had in months! Messy? Oh, yes! Due to Trotsky Terence winning the fight with Constipation Konrad, hands-down this morning! But, hey, the lack of pain and concrete torpedo removing, this was nae problem for me. I’m using up the bleach, and the once large kitchen towel stocks at a pace, mind. Hahaha! I’ve plenty of toilet paper rolls in yet, though.

I took two photographs of the morning view when I made a brew of Glengettie tea.

The moon seemed a little fuller this morning. I tried a wide shot, and it came out half-fairish with the lights.

Then I got the Health Checks done. The new thermometer colour had gone back to green, as a result, was down to an acceptable figure, I assume, 37°c.

Then the sphygmomanometerisationing. It didn’t work the first time, but okay on the next one. The SYS was still a tad high, the same as yesterday, I think.

I made a start on updating the Thursday blog and stuck with it. Dedicated, persistent, tenacious and indefatigability, like never before! But it still took me hours to get it done. Thanks to Nicodus’s Neurotransmitter relentlessly going off and coming back on-line with the brain. I admit to feeling a little smidgeon of pride when I eventually got it finished and posted-off to WordPress.

I even remembered to take the late morning medications! Swank-Mode-Grade 2 adopted!

Sent the email link off. Then did some Facebooking catching up.

I had a pot noodle for brekkers, but the photograph I took of it has done a bunk from the SD card – again! I did some comment replying on WordPress and had a look at the gallery of new stuff. Some cracking photos on there today!

I took another window view picture, zoomed in this time, on the Sherwood Health Centre area.

Then I tended to the ablutions next.

A right mixed bag of incidents, good and bad today.

The dropsies we variable and Nicodemus kept making and losing contact with the neurotransmitters. Fair enough, that’s to be expected. Most items were dropped, some several times, like the toothbrush, razors, soap and shower gel bottle.

The tiniest of cuts shaving on the lip had to be ‘after-shaved’ to stop it bleeding. Ooh! However. Showering, not a single dizzy hit me!

I couldn’t see it, but I got a reasonable picture of it all the same. That I assume to be from the plopping back down on the haemorrhoids and hitting the elbow on the recliner arm earlier?

I dropped the towel and grabbed the shower chair to lean on to lower my rotund but horrendously wobbly-fleshed body down to retrieve it… I may have got another bruise as I hit my shoulder on the metal seat support. Ah, well!

The feet and pins looked really good and almost normal. Finished drying off, got the deodorants on, and did the medicating. I was surprised at how little piles had bled, considering the strength of the wallop I gave them going back down in the seat. Mixed results then?

I did some updating of this blog.

Then took a snap of the weather outside through the balcony windows glass. Frosty on the ground, a few droplets of rain, not much wind, and the cold sun trying to come out.

This decided me, I am going out later. Only on the bus to town, and calling in the Poundland shop, to try and get some cheap disinfectant, toothpaste, pork pie, and if they have any, cheap canned garden peas. Then I can not bother to use Morrisons again!

I turned the computer turned off, dug around to find the bus pass, keys, etc. Then, I  went through the ‘Bag-of-nerves’ routine of double-checking things before leaving and set off.

Lift down to the ground floor. The upgraders were busy working on the lift and main lobby areas.

I was careful going through not to hit or fall over anything. And got the trolley through to the front doors, and exited safely out into the cold sunshine.

I hobbled along and called in Winwood Court to ask Deana if she could help with next weeks Carrington Pharmacy prescription collecting. No one in the holding cells, so I exited and went out to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk.

A few folks out there. Caught the L9 to town. This was the worst-ever bus ride to town. I’d forgotten all about the problem I had last time I went on a bus, it was that long ago, and immediately wished I’d not gone out. The battle of having to hold onto the trolley as I sat there was hard work at every hill and corner the bus took.

The driver, as he dropped of the few passengers he had, told me not to get off here, and he moved up to get close to the kerb for me to alight. That was nice of him, and I got off unhurt! Hehe!

I walked wearily down Queen Street, and Dizzy Dennis and BPB both kicked off. I decided then, I’d get to the Slab Square and walk to the Poundland Shop, try to get the fodder, and go straight back to the bus stop. I wasn’t feeling too good.

The shop did not have any of the things I wanted, apart from the milk pots and disinfectant. But of course, as is my want & bad habit, I went into a ‘buy-it-anyway’ mode. I ended up amassing Whirls, the milk pots, Dettol disinfectant, toothpaste (Yes eve more, but they were £1, Morrisons are £1.50), Toffeefees, Oxo cubes, and chip-shop gravy granules in the basket.

I must have looked worse than how I felt, cause a young lady at the self-serve tills, took one look at me and said she’d put them through for me, asking if I was alright, as I looked very ashen. Another lady inquired if I’d like her to call for an ambulance? The assistant lady put my things through for me, showing concern for my health still. I gave a can of the Gin & tonic from the trolley thanking her.

A bit unnerving that was! Fair does, I was feeling a tad rough, but I must have looked at death’s door. Still, if that’s what it takes to get some attention from females. Hahaha!

I got outside, rearranged the trolley and bag for easier handling, and made my way through Slab Square to the bus stop.

The git of a Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I felt a draught, he came that close to me! Straight over South Parade without stopping, into the square. He was delivering food to somebody. I hope they enjoy it.

Naturally, this did not bother me at all. Oy. Oy, Oy!

As I got to the top of Queen Street, as the bus was just coming in, a couple of ladies waiting, inquired if I was poorly! This was getting worrying now! Hehe!

Another horrendously painful trip home, worse now I had the extra weight in the trolley to keep a hold of.

Getting off of the bus at the flats, was dodgy, it was a good distance from the bus to the pavement to cover. The waiting inmates at the stop, each offered an odd stare to me, but said nothing? I checked my flies, they were secure!

I hobbled to the wardens holding cell to ask about help for the prescriptions, but no one in again. Can’t be helped, I’ve almost a week to try and sort it yet. If the memory doesn’t let me down, Har-Har!

 I got back to the apartment and battled to get the trolley through the door, and new fatigue came over me. I was done in!

I unloaded the purchases, Dizzy Dennis and  Conrad Confusion took control. I proceeded to get the Chilli-Coon-Carne with baked beans, and gravy added, burning the saucepan in the process. I scraped the saucepan and left it in soak.

The meal was devoured with delight, even though I think I fell asleep eating it at one point? Conrad Confusion was taking a firmer grip on me.

Perhaps it was because I felt so weary, but the meal was only given a 7/10 (on notepad). I cant, read the rest of the scribble, so don’t know why.

Cleaned up the saucepan and pots, I must have, they were all washed and dried when I woke up later on.

I took the evening medications early and was soon in the land of nod.

Waking up still a tad confused just before midnight. Not in a confident frame of mind, and Conrad Confusion present again. And the Thought-Storms active. Flibblegonkackles!

 

Inchcockski – Wed 25 Nov 20: My memory was malevolently-masticated, with maladroitness! Mmm?

TFZer Bliss ♥

Wednesday 25th November 2020

Somalian: Arbaco 25ka Nofeembar 2020

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01:25hrs: After a good five-hours (Great!) kip, I blundered back into semi-consciousness, in need of a wee-wee. Got the stomach with its dangly legs and arms attached, out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and meandered slowly, unhurridly, and with a new more acute vageness than I’ve had in a long time, off to the wet room. Took the reluctant weak wee-wee, checked on Little Inchies fungal lesion (No bleeding), washed the hands, and made my way to the kitchenette.

The ambiguous, ambivalent brain, at first, sort of went along with what the body was doing, uninterested. It’s the best way I can express how things were at that moment. I was not wholly under the control of my thoughts or emotions at all – ideas, views, fears were milling around now in the head, but I was losing then as quickly as they came?

By chance, at that moment when I was getting the milk out of the fridge for the Glengettie, I spotted the moon was out and on display.

Things seemed to click back together in the bonce, and enthusiasm returned.

I fetched the Nikon camera, opened the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new window, designed by some elderly people-hating gerascophobia or misogynist, and took these three efforts of the moon in the sky.

Cheered a smidgeon now, I got some potatoes out, got them in the crock-pot and added some Squid juice to them, and put them on a low setting.

I got the Health Checks done, as the Thought Storms began to come (I’d missed then overnight-Hehe!). The SYS is still a little high.

Well, well, and fancy that! The temperature was higher than it has ever been, at 37.6°c. I didn’t realise the read-out produced a changed colour when the figure was out of safe range, on the new thermometer. It has always been a shade of green since I’ve been using it, but not today. It’s gone to orange, next step red, I assume?

Something else to fret about. Just when Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald were being in a good mood with me this morning (up to now). In fact apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), who is still enjoying her sadistic ache-giving pain distributionalisationing, things ere so good. I’ll have to ask Mr Google about this… hang on a second. – Oh, well, I didn’t know that! Mr G says A 75-year-old male – 97°F (36.1°c) to 99°F (37.2°c). So, it’s not too far out, is it? Tsk!

I made another brew of tea for the one that went cold, and I got the medications pot. Oh, dear, I’d done it again! I’d not taken last nights doses! No wonder BPB is moaning! So I took the belated ones and got the morning tablets in the pot read to remember to take later on.

Naturally, I was full unequivocal confidence that I’d remember (I stuck a note over the top of the computer screen, Hehehe!) to remind me to take them. Ahem!

After a few hours of updating the Tuesday IT, I got the urge for the Porcelain Throne. So, off to the wet room. Fantabulous Session again! A 2-0 win for Trotsky Terence against Constipation Konrad. Smoothly evacuated with minimal pain, quick also too! Only the mess that needed cleaning up was any bother.

Back to the computer, and seeing the note I’d left for myself, I remembered to take the morning medications. With Trotsky winning the battle of the Throne, I was unsure if I needed to take any more of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules or not. After some vacillating and dithering, I decided that the thought of going back to the concrete torpedoes was scarier and painful than the embarrassment of my messing my PPs. So, I took one. But was still not sure if I’d done the right thing.

Come think of it; that could be an outstanding, and suitable epitaph for me when I snuff it, “He was never sure if he’d done the right thing!”, for on the coffin, like? Yes, I like it!

I went to check on the progress of the potatoes. I’d not turned it on at the power socket. So, I did. I do feel such a fool!

I finished the updating of the blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS were both surprisingly calm with me? Bless ’em! I Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching up. Emailed the link. And went to get some brekkers made.

A BBQ pot noodle, and the remainder of the Wholemeal Irish Soda Bread. I made some gravy to add to it, and some Squid vinegar.

It came out so nice and tasty, rich- flavoured. And I so much enjoyed it with a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m getting used to this having breakfast now, as instructed by my Doctor Vindla, and the After Stroke team. I must try to eas a smaller afternoon meal, though. The Chilli-Con-Carni and or meatballs are going down well, with a little seasoning.

I went to investigate a noise I heard, from the kitchen methinks. I took the pots to wash at the same time. I could not find the cause of the clattering sound, though? I took a picture through the window. It looked eerie, and a bit like an Alpine Village?

PPs I got a call from my Gastroenterologist, asking how I went on with the pads she’d sent me to try. I was frank with her. I told her that using these pads meant wearing normal underpants, that needed pulling up so tight with the braces, that on the two occasions I tried using them, Little Inchies fungal lesson started to bleed. And the pain of treating it, due to my phimosis problem, applying the steroid cream to stop the bleeding, was too hurtful. Three times she said: “So you prefer to use the protection pants you are buying? Each time, I replied ‘No, not prefer, but have no choice, to protect myself from bleeding!’ Each mention, added; ‘We cannot supply protection pants for you!’ On my initial consultation with her, said this five times. On her last progress call, six times.

I think I’ve got it now – They cannot supply free PP’s for me. Hahaha!

It’s still a little gloomy and dark outside. I got the nosh.

I got the CCC in the pan, added some gravy and a drop of Balsamic, and Soy sauce added to the mix.

Then checked on Jenny’s email and replied to the angel, in between getting the evening meal prepped.

I’m trying to keep up with the waste bag situation. I use the old PPs box, and this makes it easier, cause I can add the tiny bags to it as I make them up. Then, when I struggle to the waste room chute, it is easier to get them from the box on the trolley-guide down the chute.

Despite my habit of trapping my fingers in the lid, having a dizzy, misjudging distances and gathering scars and the worst at times; when the malevolent, diabolical, involuntary right-leg (Tim Price from New Mexico named) Neuropathic Pete’s (Drop-what-your-holding), Schuhplattler dance bursts forth, and the leg flails about, gathering bruises and cuts, and encouraging fear and naughty language.  Doing it this way, there is no chance of any blockages in the pipe.

The nosh was served up. Note the lack of any bread? I’d ran out! My eating all the soda bread loaf in two sittings, and forgetting to either take some out of the freezer or put a part-baked roll or baguette in the oven… Well, I did actually put two small rolls in the oven… Maybe next time, it will be better to turn the oven on first.

The Chilli-Con-Carne was on my limit, hotness-wise. This should keep things moving in the Porcelain Throne area. Har-har! A 7.8/10 for flavour rating.

Shame about no bread, but to avoid further cock-ups of this nature tomorrow, I got a packet loaf of Milk Roll bread from the freezer when I did the pots.

Sleep, even this early, I needed, and it soon arrived, off into the land of Sweet Morpheus.

The landline rang and flashed, and a feeling; a sort of, “Ah, I wonder who that is?”arrived. I felt almost sure it would be the Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR Warfarin results and new dosages nurse. She hasn’t rung me for over a fortnight now.

I struggled up out of the c1968 recliner and stubbed my toe on the chair leg. I think I silently muttered something like, “Whoops!” Ahem!

It was Obersturmbannführeress Housing Patch Manager and Pole-Dancer, Angela. She has a good clear voice when not speaking too fast, so I heard most of what was said. My replies were affected by Stuttering Stephanie, but this lady knew and replaced every word I was struggling to get out, for me.  Clever gal!

She asked about how things were, gave me advice, and showed a genuine interest in my plight. Thank you, Madam!

I had a wee-wee and somehow remembered that I’d not taken the evening medications. Got the dosage pot, back to the recliner, and painfully seated on Harold’s Haemorrhoids. and the Thought Storm raged.

Again, I forgot to take the medications! – but I did when I woke and got up, just after midnight… with Arthur Itis giving me unexpected agony in both knees? Oy Oy, Oy!

Inchcocksi – Sunday 22nd November 2020: Ailments in a bad mood, and I did a lot of wittering

TFZers, but where are they?

Sunday 22nd November 2020

Greek: Κυριακή 22 Νοεμβρίου 2020

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Last night, try as I did, and I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I got up, finished and posted off the blog. Nodded-off again! Yee-Haa!

02:45hrs: I woke (three-often-interrupted-for-wee-wees hours) in need of a wee-wee, but not urgently. I sensed and felt around the ailments, wriggled a bit and tested the legs, arms, wrists, ankles and torso, to try and self-diagnose, the little blighter’s veracity this morning.

I soon discovered that DD (Duodenal Donald) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), (later on joined by Anne Gyna – badly), yesterdays agonies that were given to me, were both top-of-the-heap again, pain-wise.

But the search for a silver-lining revealed that Arthur Itis,  Reflux Roger, Cartilidge Cathy, Shaking Shaun and Saccades-Sandra and others, were seemingly in am empathetic mood with me! Bless ’em! So, as I tackled the mountainous task of heaving my crassulent, flabby, boing-boinging-stomached body from the clutches of the c1968 recliner, I adopted a kind-off; Hey-Ho!, attitude?

Having gone through the After-Stroke teams recommended balance-catching routine, the hobble to the wet room, was a struggle, but not for the usual reasons.  No straight loss of balance, no Dizzy Dennis, nor Arthur Itis problems! Just a difficulty with the misjudging of distances to my right-side. Had there been a CCTV in the flat, it would have reminded any viewer of Freddie Frinton and the Ministry of Funny walks! Hehehe! But, there was no going into anything or tumbles on the way to the wet room, and the need of the Porcelain Throne arose en route.

How can things with the innards change so often? I’d been sat down for a few seconds, and without any warning, the evacuation began. Ooh, argh! And all done! No mess, no bleeding at all! How so much came out in such a little time amazed me! A bit of discomfort, but no pain as such, either! A 1-1 draw, between Constipation Konrad and Diarorrea Duncan. And, one flush cleared the elephantine mass away, too!

Anne Gyna was now taking over as Primo-Pain-Profferer, as I got in the kitchenette to make a brew. Got the kettle on and took this half-decent, semi-zoomed photograph, of the morning view, from the hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking window.

Maed a mug of Glengettie tea, and into the main room to do the Health Checks and take the medications.

Anne Gyna was continuing to give me grief! I must ask the Doctor about this on Monday, or ring 111, but they only tell you to see your Doctor, which is not going to be easy.

Got the sphygmomanometerisationing was done. The SYS was well down on yesterdays reading, at only 142! The pulse up a tad at 90, but I don’t think that’s a problem… I’ll ask Dr Google. Yep, okay! ‘Between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm)’

During the time since the Porcelain Throne visit, I’ve wee-wee’d eight times? Ah, well! I took the medications, with an extra Dioctyl® capsule, and Codeine 600g, but it isn’t helping ease Anne Gyna in the slightest, fed-up with this. But I reckon it did ease BPB later.

I made a start on this blog, in between several more SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) wees.

Then went on CorelDraw, to do a few graphics for the diary-top.

Getting artwork from the web to amend, I found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottinghamshire.

Blimey, Anne Gyna is giving me some high-quality hurtful stabbings! I had a wee-wee, and ent to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. I made up some small waste bags while the kettle boiled, and put them in the box, and onto the three-wheeled walker, ready to go down with some others later on.

Back to CorelDrawing. I ended up sorting some files out that I’d got mixed up, but still haven’t got any graphics done – Humph!

The feet were humming a little, so I took a look at them. They were fluid-retentioning again, I think, and the nails getting longer than ever!

I got the ablutionalisationing done. Not too much bother, not the showering caused owt worth mentioning. Multi-dropsies and a crack on the back of the head, when I was getting back up after retrieving the shoer-gel bottle for the umpteenth time.

The dressing was a struggle, and the medicationalisationing went well enough.

Then I got the small waste bags added to and stacked them in the box on the trolley-walker guide.

As I was doing this, the landline flashed and rang. It was Brother in law, Pete. We had a good chinwag. I was updated, on how Pete’s radiation treatments for his cancer had gone.

Next week he goes back for a cat-scan again, to have a look at how things are reacting the treatment he’s had. Fingers crossed! I told him Tim and Billumski on WordPress sent there best wishes.

Cheered him up a bit, I think!

Back to the rubbish sorting. Out and along by the lift lobby to the waste room chute.

Bit of a farce getting into the room. A bigger struggle to get the bags into the tiny opening. Trapped the finger (the same one as yesterday) in the heavy metal lid.
A further kerfuffle getting the trolley out of the chute-room, trapped my ankle against the door and wheels of the guide. Well, it stops me getting bored, dunnit! Hahaha!

I took this photograph from the window near the waste-room door. Some Crows were flying about, but by the time I’d got the camera out they were long gone.

I even managed another moment to have a hullabaloo going back to the flat. A cracking well aimed for maximum pain, toe-stubbing, against the trolley!

I think I said ‘Well, fancy that!’ at the time.

I returned back to the flat and got on with doing Josie’s nosh.

I felt a little unexpectedly irritable with myself while doing the food prepping, but buggered if I know why? Got the meal delivered dead-on time again, midday! This is not the real meal delivered today, I forgot to p[picture it, and used an old one – Cheat!

Things went pear-shaped then! I had to go for another Porcelain Throne visit. So much blood came out, everything else of the visit was unimportant and forgettable. So I forgot it! I spent a good while cleaning up and medication, during which I found that both Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding! This actually eased the mind, at least I know why all that flood of blood escaped. Not feeling so good, now.

It made the PPs look pretty in red and white, though. Hahaha!

All calmed down now, I had a very late brekkers of the left-over cheesy potatoes with chives, sea salt, Leicester cheese and butter, from Josie’s nosh. Jolly good they tasted too!

BPB and DD were both still in attendance, and I was trying to do some graphicalisationing, but it was a hard slog with the concentration all shot.

And early head down was demanded. So I got on with making the main meal.

I added some tomatoes and peas to the Chilli-Con-Carne in the saucepan and made sure I checked it every few minutes, in between doing a Thoughts graphic for later use.

Put some part-baked rolls into the oven, and turned off Computer Katie.

Made up the evening pots of medications and put it on the ottoman, to take while eating. (Unfortunately, I failed to do so, but corrected this later when I woke up).

As you can see, I didn’t manage to eat all of the Chilli-Con-Carne meal, all as part of my self, and Doctor-imposed new diet. (Ahem!)

As I got down to watch something on TV, erm… whatever it was, Anne Gyna suddenly stopped her day-long marathon of giving me grief, it was like an Angel turning off a tap! Although Duodenal Donald and Back-Pain-Brenda were continuing with their assault, the relief at Anne Gyna retreating from the battle was almost frabjous, and appreciated!

Ah, yes, gorrit! It was an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that I wanted to watch, with Gordon… Hang on, that’s wrong… Erm,  ah, Kitchen Nightmare. The brain’s going on one of its ‘Work-to-Rule’ episodes, again.

I watched the first part, and when the adverts came on, I thought I’ll nip through and get the pots in the sink to soak, which I did. It took me that long to get up, simply put the cutlery, dish and tray in the sink, and get back, and the next part of the programme had started. And we all know how long the Freeview commercial breaks can last! Hehehe!

At the second commercial break, I remember seeing the evening medications still in the plastic pot on the ottoman – and vaguely thinking, I’ll take them now… and I fell asleep!

I woke at 23:00hrs. Hey-Ho!