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

Hello, hello! What’s going on?

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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!

 

Inchcock Today – Friday 20th November 2020: I think I’ve caught euphobia?

Yee-Haa!

Friday 20th November 2020

Welsh! Dydd Gwener 20fed Tachwedd 2020


23:30hrs: BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was with me from the instant I stirred from my slumber. She was in a fiery-mood before I attempted to move, and got more severe when I tried to free my grossly overweighted, mega-flobby-stomached body onto my feet.

As the need for the Porcelain Throne became obvious, I dare not rush, because the balance was taking its time in settling things this morning. I had to take the risk of delaying things until I was steady on pins, and was semi-symphonious in mind and body, to ensure I’d get to the wet-room without and tumbles or Accifauxpas. The risk of some escapages was high. I arrived in the room, in what seemed a long, long time, and I was in time too, to evade any plop-outs! No leaks en route! Phew!

I whipped down the jammy-bottoms and PPs, had barely settled on the plastic seat, and the motion started of its own accord. It was more painful than yesterdays efforts, but Troksy Terence beat Constipation Konrad, 3-1! A much easier evacuation, quicker, and only a smidgeon of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Not as messy either. Smug-Mode-Adopted! 

I cleaned up and went to get the medicationalisationing done. Felt a twit again, when I found last nights tablets in the pot, untaken, obviously. So, this is the third morning I’ve found this had happened! So I took the tablets, applied the Phorpain gel, guzzled some of the pathetically weak Peptac medicine, and put in the Saccades Sandra drops in the eyes. Bit of a job innit, gerrin’ up. Hehehe! I took an extra Codeine 60mg, as BPB was still nagging away at me, and I had Anne Gyna beginning to stab all around the chest as well now. Also, I made sure I took the Dioctyl® capsule, that is important not to miss, as it is just beginning to win the fight against Conrad Constipation, and I do not want to end up on the Throne for hours at a time again!

The blood pressure was down a decent amount, to 152/72. Which was unexpected and welcome. We’ll see wots wot, next time! I mustn’t get too excited. Simper!

The temperature was up a bit, too 36.8° c, the highest it’s been for months. I think this is a good sign, too?

I got the computer on, and back to the wet-room for Porcelain Throne session No.2!

No rushing to get there this time. A repeat style of evacuation as the one earlier, but with a bit less pain involved, Super!

I got on with updating the Friday blog. Not a lot left to do on it, uploading the photos took a while, but it was soon all done, a lot more time checking and double-checking, and got posted off.

I emailed the link. Went on the WordPress reader, some fantastic stuff of there today. Then Pinterested a few pictures. Answered some comments, and caught up on Facebooking.

Made the first mug of Glengettie of the day, and took a picture from the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window. It wasn’t top quality, but it showed the lights along Winchester Street at the back and Ramsdale Crescent, closest.

I made the brew, and brought it to the computer and booted it up. I made a start on this blog for a few hours and stopped around 06:30hrs, as the ablutions would soon be needed to be done before the Iceland delivery arrived, that would be anywhere twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Well, Back to the Porcelain Throne again, for the third time! Pilestosufferagaintime! So, I opted to get the Ablutionalisaitoning done at the same time. I’m assuming that I made a mistake (No, it does sometimes happen, Chortle!), altered timing of the medications.

Which was due to my stupidity, puerility, cretinism, and asininity in missing the evening medication-taking for the last three nights. But it didn’t bother me at all. Egads! 

This third Throne affair was not as good as the earlier two were. Humbugski! Only because Harold’s Haemorrhoids poured out the blood so freely. Took me ages to stop the flow, medicate things and clean up. Then I had to get a scuttle on with the ablutioning.

But it went okay. Had it not been for the teeth bleeding, a few little nicks shaving, at least a dozen dropsies, my clearing the cabinet of all the items, giving myself a knock on the head while trying to get down using the picker-upperer to retrieve the ointments, tablets, sprays and olive oil from where they had to fall, behind the cistern. Why in hell, couldn’t they have fallen on the free open space on the floor? Skullclogglebonks!

Ah, well, at least the pins and toes, although mega-pale, were looking, and feeling okay and alright this flipping Friday morning.

When I came out, the lighting and colours outside looked unreal, as if the Lord had just repainted them.

So, once I’d dressed. I got my Nokia camera and took these three pictures. (Ah! I meant the Nikon camera, sorry). Mr Billumski, the Ohio State RCM (Red Car Monitoring) President, will be interested in the great number on sight in the road and car parks today? Or not! 

The photo I took straight ahead from the balcony window (That’s the one with the habit of the metal-spring-clip that needs pushing and pulling at the same time to open or close and have mangled many a finger, mine and even the NCH fitters, sent to mend them!) I’m waffling again, forgive me. The colouring kept changing, and the weak sunshine was covered by the clouds, but I managed to catch it this time. Bootiful!

I got the ‘YourArea’ magazine opened, and found some Coronavirus figures on it. At first glance, it appeared a little scary, but on closer inspection, the 878 figure was for the last seven days. Which us about 40% down on the rolling total.

But the crime figures I found for Sherwood, didn’t look too good! I copied this article for a bit of interest. Incidentally, between the two other people I’ve actually spoken to this week, and myself; None of us has seen a uniformed policeman in Sherwood for months now! Not good! I love the comment from the Neighbourhood Police Inspector!


Did some work, updating my personal dictionary, and the Iceland delivery man, he rangeth the intercom. I pressed the release button, and two Nottingham City Homes men were leaving as he entered.

I feel it only fair, to inform the gentlemen, that for a few second, we can hear what they are saying when someone calls us. I’ll say no more!

The gentleman dropped the bags inside the door for me and was looking a tad stressed. I assumed this was with his being running behind on his deliveries a little. So, I slipped him a can of plonk and thanked him profusely. Which cheered him a little and brought a half-smile to his face, which in turn, cheered me up!

I moved the carrier bags into the kitchen. I seem to have bought more than usual? Then set about storing the purchases away. I soon realised that I’d bought some Christmas treats on this order, that was why there seemed a lot.

The cleaners I put in the main junk room. I’d only bought one bag of frozen, potatoes shapes, and had worked out I could just about get it in the fridge. But it was a 50% Extra Free bag. So had a job on making room to get it to go in the drawer. Hahaha!

I got the hands wet with the ice, and (without thinking, as usual) l rang the hot water tap to wash and dry the hand. But I got sidetracked when I dropped a packet of biscuits. So I fetched the picker-upperer to retrieve them with, as I say, unthinkingly leaving the hot water tao running, I returned and dipped my hand in the bowl… Aghh! I ran cold water on it for ages, then rubbed some Savlon in the skin. What an Eizel!

When I got around to putting the things in the fridge, another struggle, moving things around to get the new fodder to go in, Tsk! I split the red grapes in half and put them in a carrier in the original box to take down to Jenny. I added one of her Christmas treats and a bag of wholemeal cobs. Well, they were such a good offer price, but I had to buy two packs to get the offer. And thought of Jenny, Doris and the charity she supports so much. Waste not, want not!

I then got the three-wheeler guide and put them in it, to take down to Jen’s apartment. I got down, rang her bell, and came back up in the elevator.

As I turned, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was giving me more discomfort, I can’t understand what set her off this morning? I had the struggle to get the trolley back in the door again. Something else that confuses me, I’ve never had bother like this getting in the door before, until this week? Most peculiar?

As I was getting ready to take some more photographs, it suddenly went so dark.

And yet, by the time I grabbed the camera, the sun was out, but obviously only through a small hole in the clouds.

I took a well-zoomed-in shot of the kiddies play area in Woodthorpe Grange Park. A few folks out there enjoying themselves, and was so pleased to see them all being good and observing the social-distancing rules, bless ’em.

I was getting a little weary now, and wondered on what to have for my nosh. I opted for smoked streaky bacon (from Germany this time from Iceland, last week it was from Poland, but it looked a bit fatty!) I only have two tins of tomatoes left, neither of them with a ring-pull opener.

I tried the new battery-operated one, but no luck with getting it to do anything yet. I read the instruction once more. I was about to make a change in plans, no way do I want to use the old finger-cutting one again; And, I tried the old-new one, Gotten-Himmel, it worked – but not all the way around the lid! I got the oven glove and carefully as I could, opened it far enough to pour the chopped tomatoes into the saucepan! Smug-Mode Grade2 Adopted.

I put the bacon on a tray and into the oven with it. Then investigated which seasoning to use. I got carried away I think, I added some Hickory, Soy Sauce, Squid vinegar and mild chilli powder. GAve it a good stirring, while thinking what a twit I was using these additions. Yet, after stirring for ages, I tried a spoonful, and I liked it! I’ll wait to see what it tastes like with the bacon in, before getting carried away. Hahaha!

It was grand! The wholemeal cobs were flavourful. Taste-Rating 8/10. It was devoured with delight!

All-in-all, a mixed day ailment-wise. I’ve had worse, much worse.

Obersturmbannführeress Deana popped in for a quick How yer doing?

Then, I had a wash, took the medications (Aha, I remembered!), and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus – and it didn’t take long to find!

Inchcock – Thurs 19 Nov 20: Soylent Green Memories Prompted!

TFZer discrete meeting? Hahaha! ♥

Thursday 19th November 2020

Danish: Torsdag den 19 November 2020

_________________________________________________________________________________________

00:40hrs: It all happened in a sort of slow-motion, to start with. I semi-woke up and lay there pondering the upcoming opportunities this dedicated ‘Toilet Day’, of 12th November, had to offer.

What Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Disasters, Failures, Stalemates, Mental-implosions, Frustrations, Defeats, Katzenjammers, Nonachievements, Babalaases, Pitfalls, Disappointments, Mysterious wonders 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, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me; that might present themselves this Thursday.

Oddly enough, as I was thinking of this ‘Dedicated Toilet Day’, as I was removing my potbellied, portly, wobbling, paunched-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, a borborygmic mini-explosion from the innards, signalled the expergefactorial need for the Porcelain Throne. I thought it would be a good idea, if I didn’t delay, and got to the Porcelain Throne with all haste! So, I did!

Not only did I get to the wet room without any bother, (Well, there was a short loss of balance, but that was my own fault for not catching it as I grabbed Metal Micky), and that only lasted a few seconds without any detrimental damage or injury.

What followed was most encouraging. This session was the even less painful, no enteralgia, no bleeding!

And comfortably evacuated; This is first-time that this has happened in many a month! Yee-Haa! But I knew this could not last for long. But I  enjoyed it while it lasted.

Mind you, the poo colour was a sort of green. Still, it made a change: super-easy passage, and a pretty new colour for me to photograph for the gastroenterologist’s Neurogenic bladder and bowel management record.

I was tickled-pink, started singing to myself! (The Young Ones – Cliff Richard) As I was getting up to sort the cleaning up, I spotted the gunk-cleaner on the shower floor, that I’d left to soak in last night – and had forgotten all about doing! Oh, dear!

I went out to the hallway and turned on the shower-power at the box. Back in and as carefully as I could, got the shower on and I sprayed the cleaner away…

But it looked far worse than it did before my orgulous bright-spark of an idea was used.

Humph and Knackwrangles!

And then, of course, to completely demolish the memory of the successful Throne session and semi-contentment of the marvellous evacuation; The moment I moved the showerhead into the right hand so I could turn off the water, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed, and the showerhead flailed all over the place. This resulted in my attempt to retrieve the moving water-jetting, hose-pipe like head, I had a tumble to the floor and got an early morning closed up shower, and soaked the jammy bottoms and me, and I got a few knocks new and bangs, in the process! Tsk!

The struggle to get back up, the cleaning and sorting out, were done in a silent, stewing mood, ruminating and chewing the cud; determined not to get in a sulky frame of mind at the return of my devil’s own luck, and eventually affirmed it as just a tribulation. I was pleased with myself then, at how I’d talked myself into just accepting things, knowing these incidents will only get worse as the neurotransmitters slowly die anyway. Confusingly, sometimes it’s like this, others, I get all het-up, cursing my fate, and start Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna off, but not on this occasion? I sort of habituated, adapted to the situation. I’ve no idea why this is so, but I’m pretty content and stilled about things now.

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and realised than yet again, I’d not taken the evening medications! What an Ahntoisht, Shilmazel! So I took the evenings doses, and hope that I remember in size hours or so, to take the morning ones. Putz!

I carried out the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing first. But I didn’t fret over this reading, no doubt the falling over altercation had effected the reading, I’m sure.

The new thermometer did not work first try. Do I turned it off and back on again, and got this disappointingly low reading, again though, this is probably due to the fracas in the wet-room?

I got on the computer and started to update the Wednesday blog. Which was done in a reasonable time for once, the ailments seem to be feeling sorry for my tumble, and are being kind to me perhaps? (I might be losing it again here!)

I poddled to the wet-room, for another wee-wee, and when I got back, I noticed the veins in the left arm were almost luminescent? And, odd;y they looked a little greener than usual?  When I took this photo, I used the flash, and it came out looking more strange than it really looked, but I WordPressed it anyway, cause it looked so odd. A camera glitch? Anyway, it made me think of Soylent Green. Hahaha!

Of course, it might just be one of the resident Woodthorpe Court mysterious Eidolons, Goblins, or Aliens, that are checking out my innards. The Chilli-Meatballs last night might have confused them? Chortle! Cackle! Guffaw!

I got the updating finished and sent off. Then emailed the link.

Pinterested some snaps, the got the ablutions sorted out. Well, I started to anyway. But I remembered the morning dosages needed to be taken, so returned and tool them, then back to the wet-room.

I noticed as I stripped off (a horrible, harrowing thought for you, I’m sorry. Hehe!), that I must have picked up in the tumble. Pretty scratch, though! Hahaha!

The teeth cleaning went fine.

The shaving surprisingly, only brought about two tiny weeny nicks, not worthy of mention really, but it’s too late now, I have written it. Simper!

I found one of the miniature wounds from the Accifauxpas on the right-hand knuckle. I seem to have picked up some nicks and bruises, ain’t I? However, the showering, which was something I was a smidge concerned about with the balance not yet back to normal, went great! No Dizzy Dennis’s, there was not a single clout or banging into anything, I was well pleased again.

The medicating was as smooth as could be expected! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inchies fungal lesion! The dressing was only bothered temporarily by a dodgy-wobble getting the trousers on, but I remained on my feet, Oh. Yes! This is a better day, up to now! Perhaps, my prayer and a few words to Mr G the other day had got through? Or, not! Snortle!

I was in good form after the ablutions, and set about moving the hand-washed togs about, to nearer the heater, now they had stopped dripping.

That reminds me of when I was a whipper-snapper! Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine; after I’d set and laid the fire, and done my paper rounds, I had to go to Sanderson’s Tripe & Cow Heel shop, on Arkwright Street, and wait (sometimes for hours), to claim the ham bone, once enough had been sliced and sold, 3d (Threepence it was)  And heaven help me if I couldn’t get it! Dad would not be happy with me at all!

This look like the original shop, I could find a photo of when they were open. Gawd the place smelt gorgeous! Once a fortnight I had to some tripe as well. Every week, the jellied pork dripping they sold, 9p a pound (weight) was bought as well. Oh, the memories are flooding back now! Of course, when Dad was working on a Saturday, meant I had a few hours of waiting for him to arrive home. Which, in the rare event that one of the three items was unavailable; meant I had to wait for the clips around the earhole longer.

Happy days, rough, hard work. Mater kept disappearing to avoid the police, so muggins had set the fire every morning! Do the paper rounds so kindly got for me by Dad, the cooking and cleaning too. But I did feel needed, wanted, and the odd belting!

But I was content, I knew no other life! There were plenty of lads worse off than I was… I’m waffling again, Sorry about that. It’s a bad habit of mine, wandering off, on some unrelated topic. Still, I do enjoy getting these memory-prompting meanderings.

I got the black bags gathered and onto the three-wheeler-guide trolley, and had a job to do it, but got it out of the door, along,  the lift lobby, and into the waste room, and deposited all the small bags down the chute.

It was deathly quiet, and no signs of any tellurians. Even the ‘Hum’ was quieter today.

Even Herbert has only been heard on two occasions up until now. I’m beginning to worry about this. He’s not one for persiflage, more your sort of taciturn, reserved, reticent, antisocial type.

The walk back to the flat along the newly, highly-attractive, ornamentally decorated and floored lift lobby.

It felt so. Haha! 

Getting into the three flat’s lobby was easy enough this time, and at that moment, I was feeling better than I have for a few days, getting tired, but that’s to be expected.

But, when it came to getting into the front door, that’s the maroon one, that the workers laying the floor for us all, decorated with some gunk for me, and left it there, and I have no intention of cleaning up – Swine!, I felt the weariness take a strong grip on me, and the missing so far today, Dizzy Dennis kicked into gear.

But I was not mentally tired, only bodily. Does that make sense? I went out on the balcony to take a couple of photos of the busy scene down below on Chestnut Walk.

Blimey, we had a traffic jam! Hahaha!

I spotted some crows in the distance and snapped them, but it was not a good shot. Shame. I wanted to post them to the TFZ site, Lona might have appreciated them.

Doing some updating on this blog, and I thought I heard a clunk, it may be the belated INR WArfarin results and new dosages. It was, and the dosages had changed. Meaning, because no one from the Clinic, Anticoagulation or Deep Vein Thrombosis had informed me from the Monday test, I have been taking too few Warfarins tablets since then. This Coronvirus is most likely killing a few people without the virus!

The landline chirped and flashed. It was some woman on a recorded message again, telling e they had taken £75 something from my account for ‘Prime’, if I want to cancel this press One, so I did. Waffling on a woman with either a Chinese or Indian/Pakistani accent – I couldn’t tell if it was recorded or real voice, she was going that fat, and without a cat in ells chance of understanding anything she was saying. I rang off.

Dizzy was joined by Anne Gyna, and I gave up on the computer and got the nosh prepped.

I had a good sniff at the out of date potato cakes, and luckily, they passed the sniffing nasal-assessment, so went in the oven, and were added to the tray.

The Chilli-Con-Carne, with the added tomatoes, mild chilli seasoning, Squid vinegar, garden peas and gravy, tasted jolly good!

There was so much of it though, you can see here that I couldn’t eat it all.  Titter! Seriously, it was a worthy 9.3/10 for a Flavour rating!

I was doing the washing up when Dizzy Dennis and BLB (Balance-Loss-Brian) allied to attack me. From here onwards, memory, of the night was enveloped it a vague mistiness.

When I woke up later – there was no scribbling on the notepad. I had a criminally, painful backache, and the shoulder was so painful. Signs of an Accifauxpa? But no memory. I’d not taken the evening medications, and was wearing the reading glasses?

Another mystery of life in Woodthorpe Court. Hey-Ho! 

Gawd the lower back hurts?

Inchcockski – Wednesday 18th November 2020: I hope that ulteriorly, things will improve for us all

Some TFZer lads getting the new cabin finished off Hehehe!

Wednesday 18th November 2020

Italiano: Mercoledì 18 November 2020

01:25hrs: As I stirred into ersatz life, my first thought and first word were the same! “Uh-oh, yikes, argh, and move it, youth!” Yes, the need to use the Porcelain Throne, front and back, were both urgent and nervous-making!

However, by the time I’d had the altercation of getting out of the recliner, catching my balance, and grabbed Metal-Mickey – I was in the wet room pulling down the PPs, within two minutes! And felt an iota of pride and self-satisfaction in how I coped with it! ‘Smug-Mode-Grade B-adopted!’

And, it got betterer! The session was one of the easiest and least painful I’ve taken in months! ‘Smug-Mode-Moved-up-to-Grade B+!’ Amazing, no bleeding whatsoever, not messy either! But it was massive, and the cistern needed some help via my hand-refilling the tank a few times to rid the evacuated product from the bowl.

The knuckle I’d burnt on the oven grill last night getting the Morrison-substituted for Sweet-Potato fritters, crap, horrible-tasting McCains Salt and Pepper chips; (I just thought I’d mention them again – it still wrangles me!) was looking lighter and getting better already.

I got the Health Checks done next. I used the Boots sphygmomanometer again, it gave a 168 reading for the SYS. But after reading up on the optimum yesterday on Mr Google, it is barely a couple of points over what I should expect, so nae bother.

Then, I took the temperature with the new thermometer.

It was 35.7°c, that is another good one, it seems to be more consistent lately.

As I was putting the zip-up jumper-jacket thing on, I noticed some more of the papules were coming up on the stomach, side, back. Not unexpected really, let’s face it, there is such a mass of bloated flesh around the midriff for these and the spots, blotched, furuncles etc. to pick from. Hehehe!

No teaing it this morning, I got on the computer, to get the updating of Tuesday’s blog done. But a change of heart occurred, and I made a brew of Glengettie, and as I was going to take the morning medications;

I realised that with nodding-off so easily last evening, I’d not taken the night’s tablets. Tsk! Yet, I’d taken the weak Peptac doses, applied the Phorpain gel, and applied the Haemorrhoid ointment. I was a little confused, had I been nocturnally wandering again? Hey-ho! I took the PM ones, and hope to remember to take the morning ones, later on, I’ll give it a few hours, mind.

I got the photos from the SD cards uploaded, and resized them and onto the file for WordPress. I stopped part-way into the updating, (04:00hrs) for another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Making damned sure I didn’t forget to take the Dioctyl® capsule, as they seem to be working a treat at countering Constipation Konrad.

I went out on the balcony, to have a nosey around at what was not happening outside, and took this photograph, in Auto mode, it came out alright.

Then a picture of down below on Chestnut Walk, I thought that Ohio’s RCMS Red Car Monitoring Services, Head Honcho, Managing Director, and jolly good egg, Billumski could use it on his mega-computer, to give him some idea of the British angle?

I got the meatballs in BBQ can, which luckily for me, had a ring-pull opener, and got it in the saucepan. Added the potatoes from yesterday, a small can of baked beans, and tried a spoonful—a little bland. So, I then pondered over which flavourings to add to it. I eventually added balsamic vinegar (not a lot), Some dark Soy sauce, mild chilli-powder, vegetable stock, and Squid sauce-vinegar. I didn’t start heating it, of course, far too early. I stirred it all up well and tried some. Yep, that’ll do for me. It’s on my limit for chilli, but it should be alright. Quite looking forward to it now.

Back on the computer and finished the blog. Sent it to WordPress. Emailed the link. Did some comment reading and replying to. Then Pinterested a few shots. Then went on Facebooking.

As it opened, I got a message come up on the screen. I think they have misunderstood somethings.

It told me that they have rejected and removed some photographs I’d added to the Medicationalistical Album gallery?

It is not within keeping of the rules it seems. They then more or less said; If I am struggling and suicidal… and gave me a Facebook link, to where I can get help?

Well, I never!

Ah, well, I’ll get the ablutionalisationing done now… no, my indeterminacy and dithering got the better of me again. I decided to get the washing to soak in the sink, making it easier for me when I get the rinsing done after the ablutioning. I thought this seemed a good idea. But I used the new dark clothes liquid cleaner the, and one capful was enough, more than enough! The bowl got, so soapsud clogged, I decided to press on get it sorted now. Also, the right arm was responding to Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters a little more at the time, so I got them done, rinsed several times (hehe!) wrung, and hung, above the sink to start draining. Did alright, no major dropsies either. Yee-Haa!

The ablutions, well, what can I say? A big thank you to Nicodemus for not playing up much for once, Cheers Nick! The reason for the many nicks when shaving was my own fault, I was using fresh Bic disposable razors and had put new blades in the big razors. Sounds complicated? It is!

What I do, is use the Bics first, then go over again with the standard double-bladed razors, which usually give a better, closer finish. But, mugwumps here, had forgotten that he has missed a shave, and was using new blades and razors, and went at it with his usual gusto, like what yer do (Haha!) All tiny little nicks, those that will be caught again and again over the next several shaves. Thus, the blood bled! But not much. Now when I shave again in the morning, it will be a proper bloody affair I fear. Serves me, right!

The showering went fine, really great really. Other than Neuropathy Pete, launching into one of his involuntary, but short, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances; but it caused little bother, other than a reasonably painful clouting of the ankle on the shower chair, no sweat!

Dried off, did the medicating and got the slippers back on. I did notice that the left foot this time, was showing signs of a vein bubble or ulcer coming up, maybe. Spider veins have never bothered the left foot before. Mmm?

 

I see the ‘Care’ haemorrhoid ointment is running low, I do have some Germoloid cream, which I find much more of a relaxant. But it costs £6 for a tiny tube, Humph! Then I knocked the tube off of the cabinet, and it took several other medications with it to the floor! Hey-Ho! For once, I got down and back up with ease almost.

I remembered to take the medications out of sync. See? I can get some things right, you know… Not often, I admit. Hahaha!

I went back to the bathroom, to spray some gunk remover on the mouldy spots and left it to soak in.

Then I got on with blogging again, for several more hours.

Closed down Computer Cameron, got the meal cooking, with some chips that went on the tray in the dish as well. Hehehe!

A flavour-rating of 6.5/10. The gravy being tasteless despite my added seasonings? So, the next can of meatballs I try, I’ll put a little extra chilli in it, then it might taste better. (I never thought I’d write about me using chilli, never mind talk about using extra in a meal, Hehehe!) The chips were nibbled at, but they were not very good.

I went to get the pots washed, as the rain returned outside, I took a snap of the weather. But without opening the new light & view-blocking kitchen window. I didn’t fancy get soaked. Hehe!

I got down to take the evening medications, but fell asleep before I got around to it – Zzzz!

Inchcockski: Sunday 15th November 2020: Another cock-up day. Humph!

Cor! ♥

Sunday 15th November 2020

Hawaiian: Lāpule 15th Nowemapa 2020

————————————————————————————————–

23:50hrs: I stirred into this cruel, hyperbolic-ridden, masquerade called life, with all-consuming guilt you wouldn’t believe! I don’t!

The thought-storming was simply unstoppable, with the torrents of fears, worries, concerns, seemingly fighting each other to get their messages of gloom, to me! I questioned my own sanity at times. Where have all these apprehensions come from, and why?

I tried to elutriate them from my mind, but they turned into a self-blame and shame mode. Even the need of a wee-wee was of minor concern, countering this guilt-ridden state of mind was more important to me at this time.

As the wee-weeing urge, became stronger, I somehow temporarily partly-absterged them from my mind, and struggled, with a foggy-headedness, to force my Arthur Itis-suffering legs and bouncy-flabby-stomached torso out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and found that Metal-Micky (Four-pronged walking stick) was not in reach, at his usual place at the side of the Ottoman?

I was deceived for a few moments, but I had to hobble, stickless to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) To pass water, and I found Mickey in the corner near the bucket – the well-used, and half-full, the bucket!

Can anyone please tell me: How the heck, can I wake up in the night, unmangle my body from the recliner, get up and catch my balance, go to the bucket, have a wee-wee so many times, and back down again, and have no memory of doing so? Just thought I’d ask!

After using it, I managed to get the bucket to the wet room and cleaned up, disinfected, and back to the front room for future needs and demands. Then made my way to the kitchenette to get the kettle on, and had to hasten back to the wet-room!

The need for Porcelain Throne being the cause of this. And what a change this time!

Having got my body down on the seat and assumed the recommended optimum position by the gastroenterologist Doctor, (try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehe!) Back straight, feet raised on a box… Nothing happened, the motion started for a few seconds, then it was out with the crossword book time. I happened to look at the clock when I turned after getting the puzzle book – it was five minutes before the motion started again. But by gum, it hurt, but was light lightning, which caused more pain from poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Massive, nae monstrously-massive, one-torpedo size again (perhaps the size of the submarine? Haha!), a sort of wet clunk was heard as I eventually freed it from the innards and back passage,  followed by a sort of gurgling noise?

The relief was lovely, though! But the cistern couldn’t cope with the submarine, and needed two refillings of the tank from the tap, to encourage it to disappear from view! Then the cleaning up that was another long job. The bodily refreshing and ‘Care’ haemorrhoid ointment applying, was something that set a new standard in the level of agony, today! Cor, blimey, I was in a right uncomfortable state. Tsk!

A final wash and sanitising of the contact points and back to the kitchen.

Where yet another new standard was achieved. Oh, yes! But not in pain. Thanks to an ill-timed dual-attack by SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and BB (Backpain-Brenda). On the right, you’ll see the results of my determined efforts to get some decent photographs were taken, of the view outside. The first one SSS made me catch the flash on switch early as I was about to open the window… But at least it had a reflection that shows the state of me poor old Cartilage Cathy ridden fingers. The second below must be one of my worst ever shots, Humph! 

I took the body temperature as I waited for the kettle to boil. Well, well, another first for this Sunday! The temperature of 36.4°c was the same as yesterdays! All these years of having to record them for the surgery, this has never happened before.

The results for the SYS from the Boot’s sphygmomanometer of 166, would usually have been of concern to me, but compared to Saturday’s, it was betterer, well much lower anyway.

I finally got started with updating yesterdays blog. It cost me three hours, plus another one when I added a template for today’s to go on. But at least the ailments were being fairer to me at the moment. Apart from poor suffering, ripped open by an exiting, solid, giant-sized torpedo, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, they were very tender, any movement at all now, well how can put it? Argh!

I did another vain search for the Nikon camera lens, and the rain poured down, but it didn’t stop the louder than ever annoying ‘Hum”s droning noise! Grrr!

I thought it was a good idea to transfer the Kodak lens to the Nikon camera. Cunning eh?

Then I dropped the milk and made such a mess. I was on the point of crying. (I think a few tears may have leaked out) This did Duodenal Donald no good at all, seconds later Anne Gyna showed her disapproval!

Then as I was getting back up from cleaning the crap up, I hit my chin on the edge of the sink, and SSS gave me a shaking!

Depression Returns – Well, at least fed-upness!

Now I had enough – I openly spoke with our maker! (Honestly!) It went something like:

First, you let me get born with the tiniest, dinkiest manhood twinkle in the world, babies have more than I do now! Granted me double-pneumonia at three years of age. Made me as thick as pig-shit, so schooling was a nightmare of being bullied.

And why did you make me play in the school team when the flu bug (1959 I think), had lost them many footballing lads off school – I was the shortest pupil at that school, and they put me in goal! Come on! (We lost against Corpus Christie, 13-0)! I remember it well; they beat me up on the bus going back!

I worked hard and long hours, and you had me made redundant three times! You stopped me getting a tobacco and drinks licence for the shop, then allowed me to get robbed by my accountant, go bankrupt, end up doing security work, in which I was not just the only member of staff to get shot on duty – but, TWICE!

Then you made me go bald, sent me a duodenal ulcer, angina, deafness, saccades, lost half of my thumb, stopped the reflux valve from working, a hernia (fair enough they did find cancer while mending that -you didn’t see that one coming did yer!)

Then a dodgy ticker, new mechanical Aorta valve, three break-ins at the house and I had two muggings in Carrington, then the stroke (Thanks for that!)

Peripheral Neuropathy diagnosed! Then diabetes, return of lung struggles, then the bladder cancer. And the ankle and foot ulcers, they are just great fun. I’ve got a new one coming this morning. Thank you. I could go on mate, but I haven’t got the time. Humph!

Oh, go on then! Cheers for putting in such misery, frustration and risk of death, by making me use the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, but genuine thanks for having Jenny ♥ nearby.

Gawd I hope there isn’t a God now, or I’ll be for it!

Then, I prepped some potatoes and got them in the slow-cooker, to have with the Chilli-Con-Carne. I went to open the can with a view of adding some passata to marinate in the mixture.

Arrrrgh! The flaming new electric can opener is not working now! It gave out a whine, shuddered and died.

What next!

  • I woke up full of guilt and not knowing why!
  • Lost the camera lens cover!
  • Took two of the worst ever photographs in my life!
  • Suffered agony on the Porcelain Throne!
  • Fought to get the WC to work!
  • Smashed the milk bottle!
  • Nearly knocked me out hitting the draining board!
  • The Amazon can opener has packed up!
  • Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna are giving me a pasting!
  • And I think I’m losing, what bit of a molecule of grip I have left on life, now!

If there a word stronger than depression that I can use?

I had an uncertain moment, and for some reason had to go and check that I had not left the tap running in the wet room, which proved a painful experience. I hit my right knee against the shower chair, and thus, Neuropathy Pete, launched into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went. Getting back up to my feet (eventually), to find I’d clouted the left wrist against the chair on the way down. Hey-Ho!

I carried on blogging away; the wee-wees are not so regular today. Mind you, with the amount I must have past last night; it’s not surprising.

I’ve still got to get some graphics made up, but Josie’s dinner has to be prepped and made first. Back in a bit, I hope. I did some comment reading in between.

Then back to the cheffing duties. All went reasonably well, apart from cutting a tiny nick into my finger, adding the butter to her potatoes. Serves me right for using a knife to cut it with!

The cheesy potatoes I tried adding a little milk to them (Hence the lost bottle!), and plenty of butter, sea salt and Leicester Cheese. Sliced the last tomato, an egg, a fishcake with smoked haddock inside, a fillet of smoked salmon, a few Surami sticks, garden peas, and some pickled beetroot slices. A can of spiced rum and cola, and a couple of the Skinny strawberry chocolate nougat bars. I managed to deliver it once again, dead on midday. Josie said she liked the strawberry skinny’s and asked what was in the can and breadcrumbs. So I told her. Hehehe!

I was beginning to wane a little now and realised that getting any graphics made up was a no go. With Donald and Anne Gyna still bashing away at me, I was suddenly not up to much.

But I was determined to have a search for the Nikon camera lens again, which I tried to do methodically. On what must have been the third scouring of the kitchen, I realised I’d got the potatoes on the crockpot nearly done now. So, thought I’d have a tin of the ring-pull chilli and the potatoes for nosh later.

This was when to my own disbelief, I spotted the Nokia lens cap on top of the large slow cooker! Possible laughing at me! Hehe!

I decided that I’d swap them back, Kodak and Nikon with their own caps. This cheered me up a tad… but no, does anything ever go right with me?

The Kodak cap which was on the Nikon was now missing! Am I going mad, here! It cost me another hour of delving into any possible place that it could have fallen, checked all the jammie bottom pockets, jumper and coat ones too. Drawers, shelving as well! I even searched between the two chairs in case it had dropped down. This bending and getting back up again only made Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald angrier with me.

While I was giving up, I went to return the torch to the drawer… and thought I’d have a looking with it, between the computer desk (Hopewells G-Plan design, 1962, bought from the charity shop when I moved into the flat), and blow me down with a feather duster – there was the Kodak lens cap! I returned it to the Kodak camera.

There was no celebration about this, and I found myself back at this mornings state of mind, and the thought storms began again. To try and shake them off, I abandoned the computing and got some nosh sorted out after all. Which worked! Yee-Haa!

I found a can of CCC (Chilli-Con-Carne) that had a ring-pull opener, and some gravy and the boiled potatoes from the crock-pot. The last few Foul Beans from the fridge were put in the mix, and all armed upon the hob. Some milk roll bread, and a lemon yoghourt as well.

Absolutely divine! Flavour-Rating 8/10! As you can see here, I didn’t leave a lot! Mmm!

The washing up of all the pots and cutlery etc. from both Josie and my meals took what felt like an eternity!

I stripped off, flopped down in the recliner under the quilt, and settled to awaited the Nightmare Kitchen programme to start. I blissfully fell asleep, woke up in need of a wee-wee, forced my lumberous body from the recliner, had a wee-wee of the WTPP (Weak-Trickling-Pale-Painfree) mode… and realised I had not taken the evening medications yet. So I took ’em!

About three minutes into the programme, Sweet Morpheus returned. Nice!

Inchcock – Friday 13th November 2020: I may be getting mental problems… again! Memory ones for certain. Hehehe!

TFZer, Lillie, in the woods

Friday 13th November 2020

Norwegian: Fredag 13 November 2020

23:45hrs: I stirred back into a frustrated, imitation, a life of sorts. Yet realised that things could always be worse! Things can be so confusing, especially when one had limited education, no confidence and gets rather confused, at the drop of a hat!

Well, that’s what I thought anyway. This is not to say I was depressed, morose or down in the dumps. In fact, I was feeling in fine fettle, and would probably have gone into a deep-thinking, answer searching mode, had not the need for the morning wee-wees not arrived so urgently.

I removed my overweight, pot-bellied, decrepit, physically and mentally-impaired, multi-ailment-ridden body from the c1968, £300, second-hand recliner, grabbed Metal-Mickey and off to the wet-room I wobbled. 

But it wasn’t a well-balanced hobble, and I went off-course a smidge as Dizzy Dennis joined me – at first, I was rather pleased with myself for keeping upright – unfortunately, as I put my arm out to the door to assist staying on my feet – I hit the Alarm-Wristlet on the handle. And set off the panic alarm! The chap from the Nottingham City Homes Control Room came through loud and clear, telling me activation had got through to him and asked if I was alright. I told what had happened, and apologised. He was alright about it.

But the catastrophe had delayed my visitation, and having to hold onto the leak, caused the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) to flow before I could get to the bowl! Oh, dearie me!

I passed the wee, a surprisingly forceful one, due I imagine to my starting taking the Furosemide again. So, as demanded, I had a good clean-up, and put some new PP’s on. Getting a  bit low on stocks now! The urine classification had put me in the Dehydrated group this time. Just in the Drink More category. So I did! I took the medications with a lot of spring water and took another Furesomide, and two Dioctyl® capsules. Bearing in mind that yesterday, Constipation Konrad was the easy winner over Trotsky Terence in the Porcelain Throne session!

Started to update the Thursday blog. It was all done and posted… but it took me five hours! Danged Colin Cramps having a go at me now!

Made a cuppa, and got the Health Checks done.

The temperature was fine on the new touchless gismo, thermometer. Then I did the sphygmomanometerisationing. Thew SYS was don’t a little again. Which was good.

The tea had gone cold, so I piddled off to make another brew, this time Thompsons Punjana tea.

I took a snap of the morning view.

Then I returned to Computer Katey, to finish off the Facebooking, Emailing, etc., and then have a look at the new WordPress Reader pages.

I’d just made a third mug pf the, Glengettie, got it to the computer, and the belated today, summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived.

So, off to the wet-room, I trudged.

I sensed that things were not going to be over very quickly, and would be rock-hard and massive again, so got the crossword book out. ( I got a few answers in too! Smugeth-Mode-Adopted!)

When the actions started, it was grindingly slow and painful, nae… agony! Also, it took that long it pass, I should have kept on with the crosswording! Tsk!

I forgot all about the tea again and decided to get the ablutions tended to.

One of the most boring sessions for months! In total only three dropsies, no toe-stubbing, no bleeding, no walking into anything! And despite Dizzy Dennis paying me a couple of visits in the shower, no injuries or falls. Ah, no I’m wrong, I did trap my left hand as I was retrieving the razor, but that’s all! I forgot about that.

Drying off, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was Sister Jane, who I made cringed at the thought, when I told her I was stood there naked, just out of the shower. Hehehe! She said she’d ring back.

I made yet another mug of Glengettie and had some late breakfast. A pot noodle, a bag of Frazzles and a mini-cake.

Oh, yes, I live well yer know!

I had gone a little dark, and the rain was coming down without a care in the world. I took a photo through the glass in the unwanted, light & view-blocking windows, that had been designed to make things as hard as possible for a handicapped old git like me.

I then got the blue zip-up jumper washed, all done, wrung and hung above the sink.

I’d just got the mug of Glengettie to my lips, I think this must be about the sixth failed attempt to get a drink, Hahaha! Jane calling: We had a long chinwag and gossip. Some bad news followed the good news that Janet and Pete are not too bad at the moment, that cheered me up – the surprise news was Christine and Bill had both got the Coronavirus! I was missing a lot of what was said after that, as the line started to crackle and fade in and out.

Fancy buying a £2000+ mobile and getting bad reception! Hahaha! The need for a wee-wee, Fancy that? me? Hehehe? I had to flee, and am really super-glad I did, very nearly had a bad leakage problem… well alright, I did have one!

I got the woolly hat I’d washed the other day and threw the one I had on since, away. Too tight!

But this one was too loose! There’s no winning for me, is there! Wash one and it shrinks, wash another and it stretches? Note the pale, cadaver-like colour of the skin again? I started to go downhill after this, not poorly-like, just confused, no concentration and so weary. Just like the last two day? There’s a reason for this – buggered if I know worrit is!

Determined to get a mug of tea eventually, I made yet another one.

Took this zoomed-in picture of Ramsdale Crescent, with Winchester Street ar the far end. I took it so that Ohio Billumski, head honcho, and Financier of the WWRCMF (World-Wild-Red-Car-Monitoring-Faculties) at NASA, can use the numbers of red cars on the street pro-rata-wise, to analyse what went wrong with the US Elections. He’s clever you know!)

I set about uploading the taken-later photographs and came across this one. Another mystery! Where’s it of? When? What? Baffledom rules!

Tea to m… These few words in italic on the left, are all that is left of the hundreds of them I had written here yesterday! I’ll explain betterer: In the morning, I came to update this blog from here – I had a Dennis Dizzy attach, a bad one. Only minutes later, I found that all the proceeding (then) writing had disappeared from the screen? The saved version was the same? What I had done, I’ve no idea, but I worked out that I did it in minutes? (I think). This not only got me so mad with me. And made the updating take at least six times as long as it should have. I had the notes on the pad, but my writing (I use the term loosely) was mostly indecipherable. Although the memory of the meal was still fresh in my mind for some reason, and of course, the photographs in the camera helped trigger some more. So it’ll be a bit patchy, some details at times few, from here on, sorry.

No idea what I’ve missed of, of course.

I recall opening the Chinese Foul-Megaames (white beans), they were large, meally, and made a change. Looked like giant black-spotted beans. I tried one as I added them to the Chilli-Con-Carne, and liked it! Of course, now I’ve been told not to go shopping, how I can get any more beats me. Not that it should matter, I’ve got tins galore of beans in stock now, just not this variety.

Ah, well!

This photo found, obviously taken from the kitchen’s light & view-blocking windows. I can see what made me take it, it’s a quite beautiful sunset!

The Chinese Foul beans bad made the Chilli-Con-Carne much milder – I should have put some extra mild chilli seasoning into the mix, Tsk! Only two small rolls baked, and Honey flavoured yoghourt. Naughty, but nice! I think I enjoyed it, found what I think is 7/10 scribbled on the notepad.

Did some other stuff, but…

Settled to watch a Kitchen Knightmare program. I stayed awake for the first two parts of it, nodded off and it was a good four-hours of sweet Morpheus later when I woke up. All confused-like.

Inchcockski – Wed 11 Nov 20: Part Two: The continuing medical-mayhem, madness and mental maelstroms!

About to become a reality, and drive me bonkers!

Wednesday 11th November 2020 – Part Two

I had a snack of some Morrison’s crushed Frazzles and their reshaped and squashed mini raspberry and vanilla rolls, with an absolutely foul, crap, bitter, irony-tasting decaffeinated tea. Eurgh! I didn’t get beyond taking two small tentative slurps of the poison!

I got on with the updating of this blog, in between done, in between diversions to make graphics in between.

A couple of hours later, nipping into the kitchen, to prep and cook the dinner. I took a couple of shots of the view outside.

Billumski, the Obergruppenführer the ORCMC (Ohio Red Car Monitoring Services), will note that three of them were on the site today, at 15:00hrs.

I was getting a bit wearier and decided to pack-up (losing concentration now). And get the meal tended to.

While ding this, I got a definite warning from my EQ. ‘Be prepared’ – ‘Incoming Hassle! I’m afraid he is rarely wrong! But I still ignored his caution.

Doing the prepping went almost smoothly. Of course, there were the usual dropsies, care of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and the occasional shaking from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley).

Which at the time got me irritated, but it was nothing compared to the EQ warned-about mental-hassle I was to suffer later.

The meal was passable, but of course, the following events ensured that I would not eat even half of it, thanks to the highest ever amount of telephone calls I’ve ever received and had to make. I’ve no doubt missed some off, and got them in the wrong chronological order, but I just had to vent my frustrations!


I was feasting away on the Chilli-Con-Carni, soaking up the gravy with the bread rolls. Feeling almost contented, at the taste of the fodder, and thought of getting my head down afterwards, as very appealing… but it was fated not to be!

Matron Jackie called me. She questioned me as to the situation with the Dioctyl®, ascertained other health conditions, and said she would call the Doctor to get some Poo-Softeners added to the monthly prescriptions. Bless her! ♥

Back to the meal, but it was too cold to enjoy, so I just dunked the cob in the gravy…

Someone from the Cardiac Monitoring team called. About the thrice-cancelled follow-up appointment. He/she (I wasn’t sure) wanted to know if I was available on November 27th, and could I get to the hospital for 17:00hrs, as Consultant Mr Chamkanni will be available then, it would be best if I could, because he was present when the mechanical valve replacement operation was carried out. I had a look at the Google Calendar and said yes, I could get there. After I’d rang off, that it dawned on me; 17:00hrs, that’ll mean no kip then. Getting home will have to be a taxi. Hey-ho!

Back to the meal, but it was beyond salvation. I gathered everything up and off to the kitchen to get the washing up done…

The landline came to life again. Back to the telephone…  giving myself a decentish Toe-Stubbong Thomas en route. Argh! It was the Doctors Surgery.

She told me that the prescription for the tablets had been sent to the Chemists. Who informed her that they would not be delivering any prescriptions again. ‘Could you collect them?’ I pointed out that the Government letter I received, had the clear message; ‘You must not visit any chemists!’ on it.

Actually, I found out I was wrong when I reread the paperwork (Fool!) She said the only thing they could think of, was to get a taxi to pick up medicines, ‘Would you like me to arrange one for you?’ I was confused and dithering a bit and uncertain of what to do.

Back to the washing up, with my head all in a muddle. I decided to ring the surgery back, to ask them to arrange a taxi. On the eighth attempt, I got through. Okay, she says, you can arrange one then! The only thing I could do now was to pester Jenny again, explain things and beg her to arrange a cab for me, to collect the tablets and bring them to the flat. I’d be lost without Jen’s help. ♥

Before I could get to ring her, the landline was flashing again! It was the Eurologist to check on the progress with the bladder and bowels. She was on the line of ages, assessing, questioning etc. bless her. I was losing track of the conversation. But hse did tell me four times during the call, that they will not be able to supply me with any PPs, only pads. (Cost-cutting and saving time, with the Pandemic and all that). Same as when they told me that they would not be cutting my toenails again on the last visit. They are getting long and uncomfortable again already.

She wore me down with wanting me to try the pads, and I gave in, she said she’d send me some. Then she launched into demanding that I: stop drinking all teas apart from decaffeinated, and all drinks that are carbonated! Mmm!

I called Jenny and explained my situation with the tablets, and what the surgery told me to do about getting a taxi to collect them. Jen was most understanding and calm about me harassing her again ♥. She kindly said she’d call them, and ring back to let me know what’s what. I thanked her muchly and got back to the washing up again.

I was in a bit of a picklement now. Drained mentally, confused, discombobulated, anxious and fazed somewhat. Dizzy Dennis came on, and Duodenal Donald started to give me a heck of a pasting. There seemed so many ailments at the same time; I think Anne Gyna was in there with them somewhere! Hahaha!

The landline lit again. Jenny told me she’d arrange a cab for me, and it will be coming, and the driver will bring it up to the flat. What a compassionate woman!

It was the taxi driver who was calling. But I could not make out most of what the chap was saying, the accent and my bad hearing being the cause! But I felt sure he was outside somewhere on Chestnut Walk.

I pestered Jenny again to advise her of the taxi, and she said she’d go down to collect the tablets from the driver, pay him and bring them up to me at the flat for me. What an Angel! ♥

As anticipated, it was Jenny. She had her caring hat on, and spent some time talking with me, and encouragingly about my current problems. She’ll never know how much that helped! (Well, she will when she reads this of course. Hehe!) ♥ She’d not only ordered the taxi for me and gone down and paid the man, but also brought the medicines to the flat for me! ♥ And offerred to help in fetching next months prescriptions for me! ♥

I got the capsules taken with the other evening medications, got down in the c1968 recliner, and soon flaked out! At last, my worries were reduced, and precious sleep was mine!

Thank heavens for Jenny being there for me, again! ♥

Inchcockski – Wed 11th Nov 20: Part One, The start of medical-mayhem, madness and mental maelstrom!

TGZer Gals – Yee-Ha!

Wednesday 11th November 2020

Maori: Wenerei 11th Noema 2020

01:10hrs: I woke up with embarrassing warm wet trickling, from the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), and the PPs filling up! I was in a desperate need to get to the wet room in time!

I feel strongly enough about this, so I should explain the situation I find myself in here: Last evening, I realised why the wee-weeing had died down so much (I think). The month before last, the nurse asked the chemist if they could take the Furesomide tablets out of the pods because I do not need them all the time. She was told, No chance, they have to go in the pods. Fair do’s, I can cope. The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, then took them out of this month’s pods, and I didn’t realise it. Hence, the weeing dried up, and last night I’d just taken one Fursomide tablet – (Furosemide is a type of medicine called a diuretic. (I looked all this up later) It’s used to treat high blood pressure, heart failure and oedema (a build-up of fluid in the body). It’s also sometimes used to help you pee when your kidneys aren’t working properly. Diuretics are sometimes called “water pills/tablets” because they make you pee more.)  Boy, they are good!

Fancy that, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, lying to me again! Then, not informing me of the changed medications, that they told the nurse they could not do, either! After looking it up on Google, I find they are also for my high blood-pressure, No wonder it’s shot up this month. Grobbleknackleballs!

I wonder what the odds are that Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, will have killed me before Christmas? Evens, I reckon at this rate!

Back to the chronological time-schedule;

Somehow or other, it was a bit of a miracle really, I got up, caught my balance, stampeded blunderingly to the wet room. Neally falling over Metal Mickey as I got the stick tangle up with my legs in a rush. But got there in time, but of course, the wee-wee was of the FFEA (Furious-Forceful-Ending-Abruptly) mode. But wisdom and experience told me to stay where I was, and I did! Sure enough, the AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling) started a minute or so later, and went on and on for ages.

Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy. I then had the PP’s to pack ready for disposal, the spray from the wee and after dribbling too. From the wet room furniture, floor, then the weighty but flobby, body to clean up, and antisepticise the place! Get new PP’s on, dressed, and as I left to go to the kitchen.

I don’t know about doing the medications, health checks and making a brew, I felt like I’d been up for hours and was feeling so weary, I felt like going back to bed! Tsk!

However, being the brave, heroic type of man I am, I pressed on. Ahum!

I got the sphygmomanometerisationing done first. As I expected, thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, the BP SYS was even higher again today. Thunderclaps!

For some reason, the temperature was well lower than of late. I’ll think up a reason to blame Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, later. Hehehe!

Now, here’s another mind-boggler, in the shape of the next picture along on the SD card. Why did I take it? I can’t recall doing so? Perhaps it is something to do with Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrin… I’ll have to stop blaming them! Hehehe! No doubt, most likely, perhaps, maybe I’ll remember it later on, or not.

I took a snap thought the balcony window, my giving a friendly wave and smile whilst snapping it. But I had the flash on so made a mess of it.

I tried again, without the flash on, I thought it would come out better, but I’m afraid that SSS (Suddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had a go at me. So a sort of ghostly appearance showed up. Hahaha!

I got on with making a Template up, then worked away like a good un, on yesterdays blog updating. SSS kept putting an appearance in, no doubt Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters are waiting for a more inopportune time to have a crack at me, and do more damage and upsetting me. I’ve noticed that lately!

The flaming ‘Hum’ seemed very loud again. It took me a good while, but I finished the updating and posted it off to WordPress. Emailed the link. Caught up on Facebooking. Then a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived.

The struggle twixt Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was a one-way affair again, a 3-0 win to Konrad! Gawd-blimey it a rock-hard, painful, far bloodier, and even bigger than yesterdays dollop! Very uncomfortable.

I went to make another brew of tea, got sidelined to go back for another pee. Washed and made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.

I decided to get the ablutions done, just in case any of the nurses called to see me. This session was one of the bestest for a while now.

  • The split tooth was a bit sore, but it stopped after the teeth-cleaning was finished with.
  • The shaving I took extra care about after yesterday’s left the bloodied shower area looking like something out of Phycho!
  • The shaving went a lot betterer too! Only a few dropsies and two tiny nicks.
  • The shower brought on the heavy-brigade of ailments this morning. Dizzy Dennis, but his visit was very short, and I soon regained my balance.
  • Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, but that was also short, it only lasted for a few seconds, I’say 30 at most? Nice!
  • Only one clout against the grab rail, and fortunately at that time, Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters were on strike, and I hardly felt a thing. Hahaha!
  • The left ankle blotch is clearing up, well, so is the right one too!
  • The new left wrist, whatever it is, has almost disappeared as well! I mustn’t get too excited!

  • The body is looking a little wane and pale again.
  • I even walked out after doing the medicating, freshening up, and getting dressed, without hitting or banging into anything!
  • Smug-Mode-Engaged!

I got on with the updating of this blog. The landline burst forth, it was a lady from Nottingham City Care, asking about my flu jab. I explained that I’d had it. I mentioned about the Poo getting rock-hard again, and I only had four of the Dioctyl® Poop-softeners left, none arrived with the prescriptions. She said she’ll tell Matron Jackie, for me. I thanked her muchly. ♥

Then I got the small waste bags made up and put in the large carton.

Then things went all out-of-sync like, became very confusing and panicky, mayhem-ridden, and my health took a worrying dive…

Update and part two of this Wednesday Diary to follow… I hope!