Upon waking, Inchcock will often do a sensual check on any ailment attacks or changes. Sometimes, a discussion will occur twixt Inchcock and a specific ailment, typically one that has been giving him a little extra pain and, or hassle. When these occur, the silly old goat usually makes an Ode and graphic about his demented, dreamt up, nonsensical clap-trapping, as below from an old one.
For some unknown reason, the idiot asked me to show this graphic, as he puts it: ‘Wot I Made!’ cause he’s seems to think it is one of his rare, almost non-existent successes?
As his Alto-Ego, I will now let the uneducated, lonely old fool take over the writing of this rubbish. TTFN.
Once the physical activity starts in the morning, I often wait for the mental conditioning to begin; it usually catches up within a few minutes. It can take hours, but not often.
They were tackled then.
Sphygmomanometer showed Sys and Dia, readings high,
The Wee-Wee chart: I need to drink more! Gin & Dry?
Would it help if I go to a detoxify?
On this mind of mine, I cannot rely!
A quick look for any new damage, I don’t want to oversimplify,
Another bruise was found on the top of my left thigh…
An unknown round welt, right arm, that I can’t quantify,
The torso seems to have started to transmogrify?
Heart Op Scars raised, itching again, certainly uglify!
The broken Terence Tooth hit the pain-boards bullseye!
Shuddering, Shoulder Shirley’s eased off, but why?
Hit my head on the stove but didn’t get a black eye!.
The following tasks were ablutionary,
Not worn any socks since about July,
Cold, Brr! should I dare to use Sock-Glide Georgina?
I’ve no medical aids that are any meaner!
One Sock-Glide injury needed micro-surgery!
Hickeys, bruises, cuts, and a bleeding periphery,
Stubbed toes, damaged knees, I felt all fluttery…
Should I put my socks on? I recalled the imagery,
Of the last time, I fought Georgina, bitterly!
I chickened out of wearing socks; what a mockery!.
Anytime in the next three hours, cometh Meridian,
An incredible variety of Carers, one who is Balearian,
Unless I misheard her, and she is Algerian?
Not that it matters, none of them shows me derision,
An American gal, English, British, and an Assyrian,
All make a positive impression!
Porcelain Throne Sessions
Ah, every visit is a different evacuation, indeed.
Some days it can be half an hour, then I’ve only peed!
Rock-solid torpedoes, agony, things bleed! Next time, liquid, 30 seconds, messy but what speed!
Housework Tended To
Took the chance to clean the fridge up, ready for the delivery to arrive shortly – well, I hope so.
Iceland Delivery Arriveth!
Then, on with Prepping Josie’s Meal
Got it delivered almost on time for her.
I was so proud of how Josie liked the look and smell,
The beef arrived two hours later, took in the dish for the gal.
Water chestnuts, potatoes, tomatoes, beef chunks as well,
Leeks and onions, chilli, three beans, the lovely smell!
Seasoned with liquid smoke, paprika, beef flavour gel,
Said she loved the cream Pretzel,
Even called me an old Angel!
I mentioned the extra lidded pot for the Damsel,
To have later, quantity double,
Too long at her door, I did not dwell,
I sensed she was hungry… Oh, yes, I can tell!
End Car Park
End car park area busy today.
Evening Views
I shall have to go now. Most likely the evening Carer will crave my body, mind and bank account… Ahem!
In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!
There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley, His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality, Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry, I’d get back from the local hostelry, After drinking and revelry… Fall up or down the stairs accidentally, Badly affected, alcoholically.
Working and drinking made my entire constellation, For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition, Boozing gave me a social connection… I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation, My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!
Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue, To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do! The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you! I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo, Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!
Now, so many years later, life is barren… Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again, Now I am an aged, sickly doyen… Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven, Clean-shaven? Why was that written? I always wanted to be a Tibicen, A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant, I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,
Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit! Feeling a bit of a twit, Misspellings lost words, things miswriting… I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!
My confidence is getting titchier, My mood is definitely schmaltzier, My trips to the Throne frequenter My Gawd, that’s four times this morning… What is happening? Each visit gets messier! Stomach aching and is paunchier! The passing of wind is getting noisier, Evacuated product is meatier! Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier! It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!
It’s the memory that confuses me most, I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost, The brain nowadays is a far outpost… Gives me access once or twice daily, at most! But still, I remain chatty and verbose… Seeking peace and inner glasnost, And the ability to do my blogpost!
The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial, Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential, Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual, The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual! I usually get the shakes and a wobble… Some chinwag, they go to that trouble, This leaves me in a contentment bubble!
I like to think that I am still trainable, But memory loss is always unavoidable, Although, day to day it can be changeable, That’s when I can get feeling unamiable… And, I believe there is only me blameable, Guilt can make contentment unavailable, Thinking at times that I should be throttleable, Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable, And life is temporarily less circumscriptible, Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!
Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!
This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight? No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light, Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright! Did she say good morning? Well, she well might… But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.
“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out, Sticking her finger out towards the chair, I took the medications, with trepidation about… But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair… I thought she wanted to give me a clout! I chatted about it being so dark, She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks, Yet departed, happy as a lark?
Depression began to activate… I found it hard to concentrate, The Porcelain Throne was again much used, Messy, tacky, splashes and floused… The Throne today is much overused! At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate… Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate! No chance of a shave and shower now, mate! I was disoriented, irritable, not focused, In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused, I need to get myself refocused Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!
This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.
Would You Adopt Someone Who Listens To Music by Ivor Novello?
A slightly sub-standard, bald, 75-year-old, born in a bordello, A life-long Nottinghamian, with an IQ of barely above zero, A recovering alcoholic, stroke and cardiac victim, and dipso, A short chubby, well-bellied little thing has his own yo-yo, Hoping that someone can show him how to use it, you know! Inchcock has a thing for Marilyn Monroe, although… His doing anything about this have long gone, thus his yo-yo! He can cook, drop things, walk into them, oh, and he’s a Virgo!
He Falls over frequently, but with help, gets up, giving it another go, In many ways, he plods on with his ailments; he’s a bit of a hero! At least the last time we spoke at the hospital, he told me so, He’ll tell you of when he climbed to the top of Kilimanjaro, But in reality, it was a steep hill in Ludlow, And, he drove up the mountain, in his Triumph Toledo! Vascula Dementia confuses him; I think he still has some gusto… For the ladies, but sadly, his desires have long been fallow, But he does like a pot or slice of cake or a limoncello.
His momentary spells of reality sadden him; he feels low, What’s happening to him in old age, he doesn’t want to know, Back into his deep mental haze, he’s a semi-contented fellow, Talk to him gently, and he’ll get the message, Roger-Wilko, Owt you want him to do will usually follow, Even if his words seem bewildering and hollow, There will be times when he seems bright and tally-ho! Don’t miss his medications whatever you do, though!
Ablutioning-wise, especially shaving, the blood will flow… Neuropathy diagnosed, amazingly he can be a cheery bloke, Occasionally, he thinks he’s Clint Eastwood or El Zorro, His neuropathy has shaken his right side since the stroke, He tries to stay calm and can start the day being mellow!
He still cooks, using black bean sauce and BBQ, even Tabasco, Now he knows the firemen by name, Colin, Brian and Joe, Please, don’t let him run-free in Aldi, Sainsbury’s or Tesco, He’ll panic if he can’t find you and may freeze, ipso facto! Please forgive any of his mishaps or unintended peccadillo. If you do misplace him, just call the police or a medico. But operating the TV remote control, he’s messy & ultraslow,
His confidence is getting low; of course, it will not regrow, Like certain body parts that hang below… At least he’s stopped wearing his bra and using eye shadow, His new Protection Pants have saved many a fiasco! He uses his picker-upper to retrieve things dropped below, And is contented to on DVD, his 1960’s TV shows!
He’s harmless to anyone else, this I can guarantee, Making others happy and smile is his forte, He shows no signs of toxicity and has congeniality, He can’t help forever going for a wee-wee… And he would like someone to adopt him, desperately, He realises this would not come for free… But has a limited amount of money, Which he doesn’t find very funny, He is totally free of hate and is never sarkie! So, if possible, can you help and make him your adoptee? He makes a great mug of Glengettie tea!
I dreamt of playing for the school at football, I couldn’t dribble or kick a ball, but that didn’t matter at all, The pneumonia epidemic had stuck in the fall, Not many players are well enough and available at all, Then, from desperation, the coach did call! You’re in the team, cup match, we need a win, vital, Having to ask me, I knew he felt contemptible.
I dare not let them down, or I’d suffer a keelhaul, Matchday, I arrived first, at my 4’3″ tall, Regarding the rules, my knowledge was minimal, Cold, raining, and then the fog began to fall… Players, neither team had the wherewithal.
An eight-a-side to play agreement was made We took to the field, the rain began to squall, “You’re in goal Chambers!” Any position I’ll be ineffectual, I jumped but couldn’t reach the crossbar at all, What an introduction to school football!
The fog got heavier, and the coaches got conflictual, We were down 13-0, the coach said it was only 12! A fight ensued, but injuries were only minimal, They decided to go into the gym, to play football, When we got inside, and we’d lost some footfall… Lads from both sides absconded, no longer visual, Anyway, someone had nicked the ball!
Part Of The Nottingham Lads Tales Of Woe – In bad Rhyme Series
After taking my regular waking up wee-wee, I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, The clouds broke, and the moon I could see, This cheered me, sort of kept me company, The Thought Storms started, with verbosity!
Many a guilty, fearsome, scary, memory, Happy events too, but not too many, Like the first time I ever drank Drambiuie, Four years old, and already drinking, I got tipsy, Knowing no better, I sang, and got ditsy! That was the extent of youth being glitzy!
No schooling, so for me, no university, Then the guilt, thin as a rake, I tell thee… Until I was about forty, then adiposity, I drank and ate with great generosity, Dieting became needed, and a necessity, But I ignored this, with great pomposity, I grew fatter, wobblier with sumptuosity, So ashamed of my vast voluminosity! Went bald in my twenty’s, but no toupee,
Seeking girls, I thought was my duty, To get snogging them on the settee, Kitchen, coal house, anywhere would do me, Plump, skinny, brown-haired or a blondie, I recall much pleasure and congeniality, Often spoilt by my addiction to alcoholicity, Sometimes I was lucky, finding edacity, I recall Grizelda, big gal, great voracity, We shared a perfect simultaneity!
Thoughts were rattling, am I going loopy? They eased off, as I needed another pee, One thing though, I can guarantee… They’ll be back again, to torment me!
01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?
I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.
Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!
Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!
As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.
Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!
To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!
The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).
I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.
I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?
You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…
So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!
I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.
Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.
I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!
Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)
Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.
The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…
What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit, I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥
Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!
My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!
Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!
Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!
I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.
The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.
A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!
.
Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.
Good heavens, what next will I come across?
Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!
I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.
Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?
So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!
My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.
I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.
I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.
Got the nosh sorted.
No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!
Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing
Sod it!
Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused Too much to take in, so I leaving.
023:30hrs: I woke with a dang urgent need of a wee-wee! Argh! Panic ensued as I forced my grossly overweight bellied-body from the recliner, with visions and a sensation of the surging PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), building-up, getting stronger. Caught my balance and hobbled swiftly over to unused overnight NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).
I had to give this liquid evacuation a new name. I gave it, SWROP (Slow-Weak-Resistant-Oversprinkly-Painful) title. Uncomfortable perhaps rather than painful, though. Many of these followed during the day. I’ll try not to mention them too often.
I took the medications for the evening that I’d missed taken. Humph! Then I got the Health Checks done.
The BP readings from the Sphygmomanometer showed much better results today.
Used the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer, this result was pleasing too, at 37.2°c – 98.9°f. Not bad at all, methinks.
Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel (that’s three days now that it’s worked, they are getting better – or are they planning for a more extensive freeze or calamity later?), and updated the log for the Cardiac Unit and DVT Warfarin Clinic. I’ve not been there for two years now, but they did say they will reschedule the cancelled appointment sometime in the future.
I inputted the figures for the blood-pressure onto the NHS site and got this graph up on the right. Which works out a bit better than yesterdays’ did. But still in the High Blood Pressure status, but I’ve been on that for months now. I’ve reported it to the nurse, who tells me that she doesn’t trust my BP machine. I mentioned the failure to get through to register my after-effects of the Covid-19 vaccination and can’t get through to the Doctors surgery. “Yes, they are swamped”, was the answer.
It’s a great feeling that gives one a warm glow in the heart when you are so well cared for: Well, so others tell me!
I poddled onto the balcony with the Kodak camera and put the Canon on a charge.
Maybe today I can learn enough to use this Kodak camera properly? Or not!
The first one, an accidental one as I struggled to open the window, would have been great if it was intended!
The two of the outside were possibly a couple of my worst ever efforts.
I tried to take a photo of the car park on Chesnut Walk, through the window. As you can, it was another disaster! And here I am now, having to use the Kodak for a few hours until the Canon charges-up. I don’t suppose it will worry David Bailey? Hahaha!
I got the updating of the Monday post finished. It cost me a few hours and several, well, many, wee-wees. Pinterested, a few snaps from it, then Emailed the links off.
Between SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going down, I suffered an inordinately long time getting rattled and making so many errors!
Made a brew, had a wee-wee, passed wind, sneezed and then returned to the computer, with SSS having calmed down a lot now. So recommenced on the computing.
I stopped, having remembered (Having remembered? – I don’t say that very often! Haha!), to take the morning medications.
I went on Facebooking. Then onto the WP comments responding, and visited the WordPress Reader section. Not much seems to be coming through today? Then…
Had a wee-wee (Hardly worth the bother, a dribble!) and made a mug of tea. Then started this Diary off. The attentions of Nicodemus’s Neurotramsmitter’s failing continued to irk me a little, but I just have to get uses to it; nothing can mend nerve-ends dying. It’s not going to get any better, so I made the best of it and calmed down.
The thoughts of the two food deliveries coming together made me wonder why I’d arranged for that – Pillock! I’d better get the ablutions done, then.
No showering, of course, far too early for that and the risk of disturbing my neighbours. The session was a mixed bag of ailments, Accifauxas and goof fortune!
As I got into the wet room, Porcelain Throne’s need arrived – and what a messy affair that was! Semi-soft, messy, stinking, sticky, brown and red gunk! Yet is went away in two flushes but left a lot of mess that needed cleaning up. The TP was not up to the job alone. Dettol and hot water and a thick, strong cloth were utilised, and this took me ages! The bowl was then cleaned and sanitised, and I start to get the nasal clearing done. Put the ear drops in. Then started cleaning the teeth…
So many dropsies, I made my fingers sore with using the picker-upper so often! Haha! The shaving was problematical due to the drain not clearing the water away. I used the last of the f=drain-clearer and a lot of bleach, but it was not very successful! Glibblebonks! But still, only two tiny nicks in shaving, but one of the many dropped razors broke, and the foam spray can no longer work after the drop on the floor via the sink and my left knee! It broke after that was dropsied!
No other problems, as I didn’t put any socks on. Thus cunningly avoiding a battle with SSG Sock-Glide-Glenda.
I’m going to do any handwashing today, but I did move the thick quilted coat from above the sink to above the wall heater, as it had already-morphed into a damp-only mode.
I had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold. A text message came in from Iceland… wait for it… It said at the end of the wording, ‘You have no missing items! Well, that’s another first! Of course, being an experienced Iceland shopper, I knew they would have none of the split brown rolls in stock, so I ordered some bread thins and got them both! And little room in the freezer to use! Serves me, right!
I checked on Gmail to see what subs or not available were coming today on the Sainsbury order. Well, that is fortunate, no sourdough bread, but they had none last week either. And, no french cream horns, well, that’s assuaged my guilt at ordering them in the first place. Thank Lord Sainsbury!
Most, fortunately, I went to find the facemask for when the Iceland lad arrives, and the intercom flashed as I passed by it. Otherwise, I would not have known about it; either the sound from the box too low, or my ears were playing up; genuine good fortune that was!
I admitted him and was soon up at the door handing me the bags, which I put in the hallway.
The man was sociable with it. I handed the lad a choice of plonk, and off he shot, wishing me well!
I took the bags through to the kitchenette. I knew that I hadn’t ordered any kitchen towels, bleach etc., but there seemed many bags there?
All became apparent when emptied and sorted the contents of the carriers.
How, or why had I ordered two packs of the misshaped cooked ham? How or why had I got a dirty-great container of orange juice?
Why I ordered all the packets of chill chicken in different sizes?
The lean diced beef I knew was for making the chilli later on. The cucumber for making pickled cucumber arrived. I put the overordering down to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters letting down so often.
When the Sainsbury order arrives, I really hope I’ve not done it on their order as well; I’ll not have from in the fridge or freezer! Tsk!
I updated this post up to here and prayed I could hear the intercom when Mr Sainsbury arrives; hello, he’s here, and I did hear the intercom, just! The chap put the loose delivered goods in the box and carrier for me at the door, accepted a can of Vodka & lime mix, in thanks, and departed.
As I was putting the things into the kitchen to sort them out. Struggling to find room moire than ever in the fridge and freezer, the intercom rang out.
The chap returned cause he’s found a box of Cornettos he’s missed in his van for me. That was nice of him!
I’d bought a lot of fresh foods. Tomatoes x2, leeks, Limoncello (for Josie), lemon desserts, Coz’s apples (they were dry, bruised and not very good tasting). Bread thins, garden peas shelled, beef chunks, crispy smoked bacon, more cooked meats (Tsk!), milk roll loaf etc.
Somehow or other, I got the stuff put away, and then thoughts of food, eating, my leaning towards eating, nouvelle cuisine, and epicureanism abounded in my mind… What to have for my nosh! I was certainly spoilt for choice! After only a few seconds (fast for me!), I’d opted to get the beef chunks in the crockpot, add oodles of chopped leeks, and the garden peas to be added later.
I got the beef and leeks in and added some seasonings: Sea salt, black pepper, Oxo and Best Bisto gravy granules, burnt chilli powder, basil, and a drop of balsamic vinegar that had been delivered. I forgot all about the tomato passata, though, Humph!
Cleaned up and kept stirring the mixtures as I did the cleaning and sorting the bag of treats for the lovely folk on floor nine. After the water in the pot was bubbling, I turned it down and added the shelled garden peas, stirring regularly but quickly so as not to let the contents cool down. I had a taste, and in response, I added a splash of the Squid vinegar to it.
I spent a good while making up some waste bags and sorting them into the box on the walker-trolley in the hall.
While doing this task, the weariness dawned on me, and I realised that either a blank-period or mind-fatigued withdrawal from awareness was on the way. I just knew. Unfortunately!
So, I decided to get the bags to the chute and nip down with Doris, Jenny, and Frank’s bag. The hobble to the chute-room and depositing of the bags went without any hassle… well, there was a block outside the hallway door to the lobby, who doing some electrical work, and was not too pleased to have to get down from his step ladder to let me out. Hehehe!
I went down to the ninth in the elevator, dropped the carrier at Jen’s flat door, and back up to the 12th-floor. If I recall correctly, I had a marathon wait as the cages kept passing by, going up and down and not showing much interest in stopping for me? Come think of it, it may well have been muggings here, or to be precise, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, that did not sense my pressing the button, or failed to pass on the message to the brain, or Memory Mike, who had no idea what was going on at all? Hahaha! Yes, the weariness was coming… Boulderclumps!
I got back to my floor, and the poor electrician was upon his ladder again working next to the lobby door I needed. I waited patiently until he’s finished what he was doing. The lips visibly moved under his facemask. Not sure what it was he was saying, but the eyes looked rather keenly at me. Hehehe!
As I titivated the crockpot contents and had a little nibble to test things, the landline burst forth. It was Jenny, updating me on the situation with the lack of ILC’s. Holiday (vacationing) time. Well, they deserve them, having to put up with us old antediluvian fogies! Hahaha! Jenny and I had a little natter, which is always welcome. ♥
I got the nosh done, not that it needed much doing now. An expensive meal this one was. But worth it! Flavour Rating 9/10! I got the gravy mix and chilli-level right for once. And the lemon dessert went down well, too! This was one of my better efforts. Although the bank manager may disagree!
Weary-William had joined me, and the only thing I could do was to give in to him. I did manage to wash the pots before collapsing in the c1968 recliner. I seem to recall watching a ‘Parking Wars’ episode on the goggle-box; well, I started to anyway. Drifted off in minutes, but only for an hour or so, I sprang awake with Thought-Stormsrattling away in my head, so persistently.
Got up, and I took the belated evening medications. I got a drink of orange juice from the fridge and took a photo of the evening view. I looked much more vivid than it appears in this sad picture on the right here.
Back to the recliner and climbed into it. The Thought-Storms had gone, and Sweet Morpheus soon took over… Fantabulous!
23:05hrs: I woke-up, requiring a wee-wee. Thus, I fought my sadly overly-stomached, jelly-like bellied body out of the recliner, wobbled onto my painful feet (*with the painful over-long, toe-nails), and caught my balance and grabbed Metal Mickey.
I limped to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), expected a liquid surge to blast out, but only got a WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) outpouring.
Went to empty and sanitise the bucket and needed another wee-wee while washing my hands from the first one! A WDFL mode (Weak-Sprinkling-Fountain-Like) evacuation! Rewashed the hands, and changed PP’s, then off to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I took this picture of the cloudy night sky from the window.
I noticed how I had still got the watch on and also how red the skin was looking?
Made the brew, had another wee-wee (Tsk!) and got the Health Checks sorted out. Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd), had the SYS 148, DIA 77, and the Pulse a little higher at 93bpm.
The reliable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer gave a 37.2°c – 98.96°f, which was not too bad at all!
I went on the NHS site and but the program’s BP results and got this resulting graphic. Which I copied and pasted. The BP was rated as a little better than yesterdays.
But not to get too excited, it’s still in the High Blood Pressure level. Tsk!
Microsoft Excel allowed me access, and I updated the Health log. The pulse showed up as in the amber, but that’s better than the red ones earlier in the week.
I had to have yet another wee-wee! But this time, I checked the colour against the NHS Healthy Wee card.
I’d come right down from Level Six yesterday, Very Dehydrated; To level four – just dehydrated! So that was hopeful!
I made another brew of Glengettie tea, and I took yet another weak wee-wee, then got the photographs uploaded and tweaked for yesterdays and this diary.
I concentrated on updating the Sunday post. It took me a few hours, but I got it finished and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link and Pinterested some snaps.
I went on Facebook catching up (three wee-wees!) A big job this morning; I’d missed some things off yesterday, Humph! Then the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room, I limped, with the toes really playing up and stinging now?
The Throne session was not a good one at all!
Luckily, I didn’t delay getting to the Throne, and as I sat myself down, the flow began!
Then it stopped sharply. I got the pen and crossword book.
A minute later, it started again.
I could tell by the feel of things that it was a Trotsky Terence dominated affair!
I rose to look at the damage and was shocked by the amount of almost liquid evacuated red and black coloured stuff in the bowl!
This, of course, did not clear on the first flush. Not even the second and third either.’
Many manual tank refills by jug from the sink were needed, at least four, I reckon! I’m getting fed-up with having to do this!
As I was putting the lid back on and replacing the removed items, a sudden pain underfoot arrived?
I’d trodden on the pen! Smashed it, naturally!
Hurt the foot, goes without saying really, sorry.
I replaced the none-working radio and clock, toilet rolls, and kitchen towels. I’m getting fed-up with having to do this hemerine every morning! Still, I mustn’t complain, things could be worse, and they have been regularly! Humph!
Had a final wash, checked the taps (faucets) were not running, and back to the computer.
I went to take the morning medications, swallowing a Numark Anti-Diahorrea tablet with the others, and pressed-on with perusing and commenting on the new posts folks had posted. Next, I read and replied to some WP comments that had come in.
Then I needed another wee-wee! I mean, why? I’m only passing dribbles, but very often. With bother of intermittent PMDing (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling)! Oh, my, the whipper-snappers don’t know what’s coming to them in later life, poor things! Well, poor me, too! Hahaha!
After a few more spelling and grammar errors, it was time for the ablutions to be tackled. As seems usual lately, I got side-tracked and wandered of to wash the thick quilted jacket. I left it soaking in fabric softener and got to the wet-room for a jolly good. Much needed, cleaning up session.
Which went amazingly well! It was as if SSS and Nicodemus had turned themselves off, out of pity, to dissimulate their real intentions or to have me over on the floor later, I’m not sure, yet. Hahaha!
Sure, there were a good few dropsies, but nothing harmful, dangerous, overly painful, or even irking! It was as if an angel had got my back! It went so smoothly, I started to feel worried at the sheer unnaturalness of it. The drying-off was easy-peasy, no falls, no bangs! Even the medicationalisation was done without hassle or Accifauxpas! But, I chickened-out at putting any socks on, no point in pushing my luck too far; I felt sure I could hear a disappointed sigh from Sock-Glide-Glenda?.
I poked the new mark on the right foot, no pain at all, no itching either. I put some cream on it, but it turned a mustard colour, and it was a clear gel? But again, painless! Things can’t go on like this!
I got the handwashing rinsed and fabric-softened, wrung, hung and all done, hung them on coat hangers above the sink. The thick quilt shirt come jacket is going to take some drying. It should be ready to wear by the end of November, I think. Hehe!
My next task was getting the waste bags sorted out and made-up, and getting them in the box on the walker-guide trolley. Not an easy task! Bt the time I’d sorting myself out, there were two more bags to be added!
Trying to escape with the walker from the flat, I had a bit of bother. The box fell off, but I was in good spirits, if nervous, with the good luck… well, absence of bad-luck I’d had this morning. I soon got them back in the box and on the trolley walker.
I poddled along the length of the lift lobby and got into the room with, again, relative ease. Got all the bags down the chute, without any trapped fingers, dizzy’s, falls, trips, bangs, or knocks either!
Then, I bravely went down in the lift, on my way to visit the ICL, wardens interrogation room to advise them of the arrival of the Easter Eggs coming tomorrow. Well, that’s if Iceland and Sainsbury’s don’t substitute anything like pickled walnuts or toothpaste for them! Hahaha! But my main aim was to get some photographs of the Winwood Heights complex and get a natter in with somebody.
Which, after getting no answer to my phone call and no one in the office, I did on my walk back to the block of flats. The glass must be busy.
The top photo I took as I hobbled to the office, the regular bus out trippers were there on there way to the bus stop. Christine and Roy, and Angela were there, but I got no response to my greetings. Chance are they didn’t hear me, and I didn’t them. Hehehe! Old age, eh?
On the way back to Woodthorpe, I took a Winchester Court shot on the other side of the Walk, then Winwood Court, then my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park area. I’ll try ringing Deana, or whoever is in, later; I need to find out when the subsequent prescriptions are due and if I have an appointment for when the foot lady starts working again, tomorrow or not. The toenails are getting a bit painful now.
I got in the flat, having actually talked with no one, failed again!), and made an Iceland order up.
I found an easy method on the web of making pickled vinegar. Then, I added some bits to Sainsbury’s order. I put on some distilled pickling, wine and balsamic vinegar. I hope I can use dried dill in it, but I’ll give it a go. I’ve never had pickled vinegar and look forward to trying to make some. I’ll have all needed, I think, to give it a go. The vinegar, salt, sugar, black pepper, and a screw lid jar, but no fresh dill, just dried. Slicing the cucumber might be a bit risky, cut-finger-wise, though. Haha! I’ll ask the ailments to be incredibly kind to me when I make it.
Then I pondered over what I was going to have for today’s meal. After a bit of oohing and aahing, I decided to use up the last of the garden peas in a Chilli con carnie, and add passata with basil, to it. I took a packet of whole bread thins from the freezer to defrost on the window’s shelve.
Went on Gmail to see if owt had come in, and Jenny had sent one. Bless her, I replied, thanking her. Then I had a look for any WordPress comments, and I responded to it. Much time was spent trying to master the Kodak camera, far too long, without any progress being made. But, in the morning, I plan to use Kodak again – I’m determined to mast it! But don’t really expect to!
Then I went into mind-changing, Dithering mode again! I redecided over the meal. The peas, tomatoes and cooked meat, potato salad, roast onions, Marmite cheese, caramelised red onion chutney, wholemeal bread thins, chestnuts, and a custard & jelly dessert instead.
And by golly, it went down well! It took me some getting through, but I gave it a deserved flavour rating of 7/10. Ate it all bar the last slice of wholemeal bread thins!
Miraculously, the wee-wee I had after washing the pots was the last one of the day!
I reckon I settled down and had an uninterrupted straight five hours of heavenly bliss with Sweet Morpheus. Waking up, desperate for a wee-wee…
00:00hrs: Considering the truly low and depressed mood I found myself in last night, as I stirred into semi-life, I was suddenly aware that the gloom and doom tormenting my brain was gone, disappeared, no longer there! I found this rather flummoxing.
I was baffled as to why? Nothing had changed from yesterday. Had I been dreaming, and that may have had some effect in cheering me up? Was it the bang on the head when I took my tumble that brought it on in the first place? Hello, I’d better get up; I don’t want to encourage any Thought Storms! I need a wee-wee anyway.
I freed my overweight, flobby-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with absolute ease – until I got the weight on the knees! Argh! Cathy Cartilage on the right knee, and Arthur Itis on the left one, were both so painful and in a bad mood with me this morning. The few hurtful paces to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) indicated that this will be a less-than-easy hobbling about Saturday.
I fumbled about to get Little Inchie out and realised as I did so, the NWWB was over half full? Why does this happen so often? I must have made many trips to release this much wee-wee overnight? Yet I cannot recall getting up at all to do so? The pain I must have got from Arthur and Cathy getting out of the recliner so often, I’d have thought I would have been made me aware of what I was doing? My mind was soon cleared of this question, as the embarrassment of a somewhat significant amount of PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) escaped into the half down PPs. By bottom-lip protruded, and after finishing, I took the bucket to the wet room for emptying and sanitising and got a clean-up and got a new pair of PPs on.
It’s time and incidents like this that really bring it home to one; the body is doing its own thing, the brain’s logicality loses its way, the memory is fading fast and now avoiding most of its retention powers. The bones, joints, and ticker etc., are crumbling without mercy. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain, does yer!
I got the kettle on to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and it sounded like someone had just turned the volume up on the ‘World-Wide-Hum’; Gawd, it was loud! And the heaters were not working again? Worra, life! But I imagine that there are many people in the complex in this position, not that it cures anything, but, at least, I am still aware of my senility is en route. I worry for the future, though. Blooming cold in here again! Weekend, of course, so no one to help me out with getting the heaters also going correctly.
Had another wee-wee of the IRPT (Indefatigably-Relentless-Painful-Trickling) mode.
I took the morning medications, then got the Health Checks done. The temperature was alright this morning; it seems to be getting steadier now. Of course, I shouldn’t have said that; it was silly of me! 36.7°c – 98.06°f. It was in the green, so it should be acceptable.
The Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings were decent, methinks. SYS 150, DIA 71, and the Pulse was at 84 bpm. As I was taking this, a headache came on suddenly, sharp to the right side of the head – then a minute later, it was gone?
Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel to update the Health Checks listing figures.
Do you see that? Three, in-the-green temperatures on the trot there! Much better than earlier in the week.
I had another wee-wee, surprisingly, of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style. Then made a start on the updating of the Friday Diary. Sorted the photographs out first, then got the scripting done. The ailments of concern were just two; Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters letting me down a few tines, and of course the SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) in support, but a lot less bothersome than she was yesterday. I perseverated and got it finished but had to have four wee-wees during the three hours of writing and correcting—all of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy). I’m getting variety today, at least. Haha!
As I put the kettle on in the cold, shiver-giving kitchen (Heater still not working), I had to nip off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What going on here! Constipation Konrad seems to be fighting back? Heck of a job to get things moving, and it was gooey yet solid? The toilet rolls will have to be ordered today; if I can get a slot for an A.M. delivery. A good clean up, and pleasingly, the evacuated produce was cleared with just two flushes!
I had a wash-up and had another wee-wee, this time of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. Another washing of the dandies, and back to the computer.
I Pinterested some snaps, Emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Spent a long time on that. Two WordPress comments had come in, which I replied to. Then I visited the WordPress Reader Section. I had another wee-wee of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode… I think we can assume that every half-hour or so throughout the day, I needed and took a wee-wee; it’ll save me a lot of typing. Tsk! Then:
I went onto the Sainsbury site to see what slots were attainable. I got a slot for Tuesday 16th @ 8>9a.m. Do you know, I made a mistake and ordered some Fresh Cream French Horns.
Brekkers sorted out. And from here on, it is hit and misses, memory-wise, very patchy. Sorry.
Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so good, perplexed, and tired out.
I had a weariness-attack, and I just turned off the computer and sat down on the recliner for many hours, watching some banal crap on the TV, but I couldn’t understand why. Doing nothing but grow fat by nibbling biscuits, crisps, ice-cream as well, I think?
The need for the Porcelain Throne then forced me to get up. I ached all over, was coughing and sneezing and felt under the weather, and confused. For some reason, I found out in the morning, I’d not cleaned up the wet room, Eurgh!
I actually made some more fodder! (I found this photo on the SD card). But can I remember making or eating it? No!
But I did find most of it in the bin later on in the night.
Along with this photo, taken through the balcony dividing glass? Not sure what, if anything, went on after that.
Mind you, Sunday morning, I did discover this snap on the camera-card. Also, that the fodder things were left loose in the sink bowel?
I’m sure that I sat down again, incapable of logical thought, and once more, spent hours just sat there, looking at the turned-off TV and fighting-off Thought-Storm-Thaddeus, but only half-heartedly. I think I was so down; I actually just accepted the self-criticisms, fears, worries etc., as a natural leveller, and a prevailing punishment, and part of my growing mental decrepitude.
The thought of having another banal Sunday to get through tomorrow was soul-destroying.
