Intense Inchy: Wednesday 17th March 2021 Diary

INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 17th March 2021

Swahili: Jumatano Tarehe 17 Machi 2021

01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?

I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.

Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!

Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!

As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.

Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!

To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).

I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.

I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?

You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…

So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!

I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.

Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.

I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!

Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)

Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.

The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…

What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit,  I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥

Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!

My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!

Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!

Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!

I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.

The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.

A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!

.

Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.

Good heavens, what next will I come across?

Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!

I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.

Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?

So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!

My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.

I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.

I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.

Got the nosh sorted. 3Wed28

No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!

Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing

Sod it!

Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused
Too much to take in, so I leaving.

Impudicity-Inchy, Thursday 11th March 2021, Diary

♥ TFZers – What are they up to, though? Hehehe! ♥


INCHCOCK TODAY

Thursday 11th March 2021

Norwegian: Torsdag 11 Mars 2021

23:40hrs: I stirred, after a decent five-hours of undisturbed sleep, in need of an urgent wee-wee. I disentangled my elephantine over-wobbly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and stood up to catch my balance…

Neuropathy Pete’s adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a concise but brutal flailing performance. Luckily before I’d hobbled away from the recliner, which I sat down on again post-haste. No harm was done; I was back up and wee-weeing in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) within two minutes. The evacuation was of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style.

I got the Health Checks done, starting with the BP Sphygmomanometer, And another decent-looking set of results this morning. SYS 144, DIA 72, and the PULSE down to only 82!

The contactless thermometer was in the green, and it read 36.8°c – 98.24°f, much better than late!

I went to open Microsoft Excel to update the recordings, but once again, it was updating ‘Office’ and would not allow me access to the programme. Cracklepackers!

I had a devil of a job in updating the Wednesday Diary. So many late photos yesterday to old and sort before even starting on updating the wordage! SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up and making progression even slower than ever. A little annoying! However, I eventually got it finished and treble checked, find endless errors to put right. Tsk! I’ve probably missed some of them; sorry about that if I have. I had a weak wee-wee.

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and then posted-off the blog. Pinterested a couple of snaps. Spent a few minutes getting this block started and went on Facebooking catch-up.

Perused the Facebook reader. Then read and replied to some WordPress comments. And got rid of another weak wee-wee. And for the first time in 30hrs+, the need for the Porcelain Throne showed up. Off to the wet room. I’ll see how things pan-out, then I can decide whether to take another of the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets or not.

It felt strange in my not hurrying to the toilet for once. I thought things would be tighter, and they were, but still gooey. Not bleeding, and only a small evacuation, which was black in colour? As usual, my habit of dithering over choice and decision making was rampant, and I could not tell if I needed another Numark tablet or not!

On the way back to the computer, Cathy Cartilage joined in the pain giving ailment list. Gawd, she was giving it to me!

I did some WP Comments answering. And went on to the WordPress Reader section.

The howling wind seemed to be getting louder now. Still, it masks the ‘World Wide Hum’ a bit. I’ve never known it so bad since I moved here? I bet it wakes some poor soul up!

I got dirted again when I put the kettle on and did some handwashing. Some cotton long and short socks and the made in Myanmar (Burmese), too small to fit me, grey zip-up jacket. Done, wrung, and hung to dry above the kitchen sink.

Another summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I ambled along to the wet room. (Well, the toilet was in there, so it seemed a logical move) Hahaha! Again, as the first visit not long ago, the evacuation was only a small, once, but far messier than the last one was!

At least this helped me make my mind up to make a brew of Glengettie and take the morning medications with an added Numark anti-diarrhorea tablet.

I had a look at the leg ulcer. I’d gained some blotch marks around the ankle, and the old wound looked like it might be flaring up again? Mmm?

I got back and made a brew and took the medications. As I was taking them, it sounded like the ‘Hum’ and the howling winds were in competition to be the loudest. It was not helping my concentration at all.

Ablutions tackled:

As I got stripped, I could see that the ankle looked much betterer than earlier? Then realised I was using the Kodak camera; that’s why things looked brighter. I put the Kodak camera away and used the Canon for a while after this.

The session went very well, indeed! The dropsies added up to about eighteen/twenty, I reckon. But no tumbles, no dizzies or bleeding either! Shaving produced not a single nick! No falling or injuries during and dressing! The medicationing was fine! Mind you, because of this good luck, I didn’t put any socks on. (I had too later; when it got so much colder!) 

All done, I got the missed socks from yesterday, hand-washed, and hung.

I moved the earlier hand-washed grey jumper onto the serving tray and placed it near the kitchen wall heater. I must keep checking it for safety. As it is not really dry enough yet.

Then I made up some black waste bags and a recycling one and got them in the walker-guide box.

I trundled off into the foyer and out to the lift lobby and down to the chute room. The first bag  I got out of the box looked a little too large, I squashed best I could, and it went down with no trouble at all, as did the other bags. I’m was in danger of a Smug-Mode coming on here. Hehehe!

Back to the flat and checked the Amazon tracker. The pill pots weren’t even out for delivery yet; no, it looks like it might be another late stay-awake night for me.

I took a picture just as the sun disappeared and the rain stopped.

I had a nosey at the YourArea Emagazine. At least the Covid-19 new cases are well down on last week!

Stores closing in Nottingham, fast-food stores opening in Nottingham. All confusing?

Well, what a shock on the local weather forecast?

The lackadaisicalness and weariness came over me, and I became pretty useless brain-wise. I put on the Amazon tracker and just sort of sat there waiting for it to get closer and arrive. Doing very little, apart from doing some self-analysing and fault finding for about an hour or so. Then the door chimes rang out! The Amazon pill-pods were there on the floor outside the door.

I collected them and did a visual inspection. At least when the next month’s prescriptions arrive, I can sort them out using these new pods, hopefully easier than last month with all the mixed empty mishmash of pods to get confused with. Well, that’s the plan anyway.

Totally drained now, mentally for some unknown reason. I got the nosh prepared. I ate it all. (By gum, I’m eating well recently, too well?)

I foolishly thought I’d stay up to watch the two episodes of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ on channel 11. Not a chance! I was in the land of nod before the programme even started! Waking up to the tune of the end credits playing. I considered getting up to wash the pots and dishes, but I was soon back with Sweet Morpheus.

But it was a fitful sleep this time. For the next five hours, I seemed to blink awake and drift back into slumber so often? There were no thought storms involved, though—just a vague sort of ‘Oh sod it!’ response each time I fluttered begrudgingly awake and drifted back into a tristful sleep of sorts.

Indagating Inchy – Wednesday 3rd March 2021 Diary

♥ The TFZer Chef of the Year! ♥


Wednesday 3rd March 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 3ydd Mawrth 2021

  00:05hrs: I semi-woke up, returning to mock-life, and amidst all the confusion milling about in my brain, I found so many things to fret over, worry about, and ignore; for a few pointless, unfathomable, befuddling, minutes. Slowly I worked out what day it was and became aware of the warm wet sensation from within the PP’s. I hoped it was PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble) or CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) instead of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. (Which it was! Phew!)

I tackled the Herculean quotidian job of hauling my overly-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety-recliner, and rose to catch my balance. (There wasn’t a lot of equilibrium available, but I managed, with a high degree of effort, to achieve this).

I took the missed evening medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS was down a smidge at 149, DIA at 72, and the PULSE at 88bpm. Which overall, it was a better set of figures this morning.

The made in Hong Kong, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer temperature reading is well in the danger area red, at 37.9°c – which Mr Google told me was 100.22°f. High, but not critical. Phew!

The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived via the innards, and off I trotted, well, limped, to the wet-room. For the first time in a while, Cartilage Cathy was giving me some aggravation, stingingly so, which did not help my balance at all. In fact, when I plumped down hastily on the raised WC seat, I caught and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again!

However, the expected runny, watery evacuation didn’t happen. Instead, it seemed that Constipation Konrad was in charge over Trotsky Terence, this time, very fuliginous, to go from one extreme to another like this. The crossword puzzle was utilised as I sat there, knowing things were brewing ready to escape, yet spent a good five-minutes puzzling before the action started. Not that I solved any clues at all. Tsk!

Far less messy, but more effort needed to encourage the motion along. No bleeding from the rear end! Easier to clean things up. Although the refilling of the water tank and several flushes were needed.

Then after washing the affected areas, the dodgy bit had to be done! Stopping the fungal lesion bleeding. Nover an easy job, but with not having to use it for so long, the Dakacort cortisone cream application proved more messy and painful this time. Not 100% successful either. But, pain-wise, Cathy Cartilage’s knee was a lot worse to medicate. If I don’t rub in the gel enough, the pain relief is not up to the job. So, I had no choice other than to keep applying it and massaging the knee with a degree of pressure that didn’t go down well with Cathy at all! I’ll take an extra Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications, maybe some Paracetamol as well. Walking and keeping my balance is not easy when this happens, but I mustn’t moan. Plenty of folks a lot worse off than I am.

I got the computer going and concentrated on updating the Tuesday Diary. Cartilage Cathy was no bother as long as I was sat on the swivel chair – but when I had to get up for wee-wees or make a brew, Wow! I think this will affect my balance when I have to go out with the rubbish later.

I eventually, quite quickly actually, got the updating sorted out. Thanks mainly to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters being in a good mood with me, Yee-Ha! Most appreciated! Hope he keeps it up!

Sent off the blog. Emailed the link, went on WordPress comments, then on the WP Reader Section. Finally, I got to updating the Facebook pages.

I made a start on this page, and I had to go to the wet room for a painful wee-wee. Although, a reluctant one. A stressful evacuation… no, that’s not the word. Harrowing is a better one to use. Little specs of blood in the bowl, and the NHS Urologist’s colour code card, showed that I’d gone back to a ‘Very Dehydrated’ No.6 level. Humph!

Leaving the room, I came as close as I’ve ever been to walking into the door frame as I have ever been without clouting it, as Cathy Cartilage gave way. Things seem to be getting back to normal for me, then? Hehehe! I remembered to take the A.M. medications.

I remembered to put the Kodak camera on battery on charge. I was using the old Canon charger, thanks to Amazon sending an American two-pin charger that wouldn’t work anyway. Still, it started charging without any bother.

I returned to the wet room to tend to the ablutionalistical duties. They have not gone so well in months! Brilliant! Astoundamigating! Wunderbar! Up until the getting dressed, that is!

The nasal-clearing went well. The teeth cleaning fine! And even the shaving impressed me! Only two dropsies and no, I say, NO cuts or nicks!

The showering was again a good one! A few dropsies fair enough! No bangs or dizzy’s whatsoever!

The drying off was problem-free, too! See Inchcy there? The red-faced showerer! Hehe!

Now we come to the medicationalisationing. Not perfect, nor lethal. Hehehe! Harold’s Haemorrhoids ointment applicating was a smidge painful.

And the dang Daktacorting on Little Inchies fungal lesion brought forth a few curse words, twinges and Ooh, Ah’s and Argh’s!

The last operation, getting dressed, involved:

  • Me ripping the new PP’s as I pulled them up! Luckily I have a decent stock in hand now.
  • The other balsa… no, Bambppp long socks didn’t seem as long as the first pair did yesterday?
  • When getting the trousers on, Cartilage Cathy wobbled me, and down I went on my knees!
  • Still, I got back up, bruised, but easily enough!
  • All in all, a fair session!

I may sell the wonderful looking photo of my legs in the Bamboo hosiery to the Tate Gallery? Hehehe!

I got on with the handwashing. The long Bamboo socks, a pair of short ones, the crap cold Amazon so called  ‘Lounge pants’, and the well-made in Myanmar (Burma) are far too small and thin, grey zip-up jacket with pockets.

The door chimes rang out, and I went to investigate. There was the young engineer, who I’d arranged to come today, to fireproof the old airing cupboard.

Of course, I’d forgotten all about him coming. It’s easy to blame senility – but I will do it anyway!

He didn’t mess about, and soon he had everything out of the cupboard and on the floor in the kitchen for me to fall over.

Nice natured lad, we had a chinwag at times and a laugh.

I nipped out with the waste bags to the waste-room chute, and I disposed of them down the tube.

Made my way back to the apartment and took part in a little natter with the lad doing the work.

Oh, dearie me! Another letter informing me of the costs of living increases! The rent, Service-Charges and Support-Charges! So, what’s that in this week gone? The bank reduced my interest rates! HMG increased my personal tax rate! I’m sure there have more than these demands. Time for the claw-back for the Convid-19 costs? I’d have thought with them giving me the Asta-Zeneca poison vaccine and making me so ill, they might have gone easier on me, you know? But, no! Inchcock to the slaughter!

While stewing away and feeling sorry for myself, the young man working in the kitchen. And I realised that I’d forgot to remember to take a photo of the removal of the Porta Kabins on Chestnut Walk. So, here’s the best I could manage, the top one form last week and the bottom one this morning at approx: 10:00hrs.

Fancy that, me not remembering something, it doesn’t happen a rule. Ahem! I’m kidding, of course, when it’s news, it is the odd time that I do dredge-up some loose connection with something, and what I was going to do, or wanted to do, comes flooding back to me!

Shortly, the young worker lad had got the cupboard fireproofing work finished. He’d put a shelf up for in, bless him.

I told him to help himself from the bag of treats, thanked him, and he said he would try to call back on Friday to give me a hand getting the stuff back into the cupboard. Especially as he had put a shelf in there for me to use, bless his cotton socks. Most appreciated. Of he trotted, and I had a look at the kitchen to see what needed sorting out – I had no intentions of doing anything, mind. For I had no templates left to use and need to get at least three done, or I’ll get so far behind, doing the blog will become too much for me. I just winced when I saw the state of the place! So I got back on the computer to update this blog as far as to here, and I had to begin making some CorelDraw graphics for the templates. Getting late now, if I don’t do it, with it being midday, the weariness is about to dawn. I’ve been up for twelve hours now. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to concentrate, so I got something made up to eat.

I used the last of cooked pork, chicken tikka on sticks, garden peas and tomatoes. I lathered plenty of butter on the Sourdough bread, added the last pot pf the horrible Iceland raspberry trifle, and got down to eat it. The flavour-rating given was only 5/10, but the sourdough bread was tasty enough.

Missed most of it! Grumph!

I washed the pots and got down again, wondering if Sweet Morpheus would be kinder to me tonight? It was all tiny-nod-offs and waking repetitions. Of the two half-hour episode of Tales of the Unexpected, I might have been awake for the ten-minutes worth. Then, of course, I thought this is it, sleep commeth now… Did it Thunderbogworthy!

Well, yes, it did in a way, but in spells of a few minutes, then I’d wake up, simmer and stew a while, drop of again for a few minutes… Not very good at all!

In the end, I gave up about 23:40hrs, got up for a wee-wee, and then started doing some much-needed graphics.

Ill Inchcy – Sunday 28th February 2021 Diary

TFZer to the rescue!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 28th February 2021

Latin: MMXXI die 28 Mensis Februarii

01:40hrs: I stirred into imitation life, realised that I was not coughing or bringing up anywhere near so much phlegm. And it felt good, indeed, at last, the symptoms from the lethal to me Convid-19 AstraZeneca vaccine was weakening, after a full week! I spent a few moments fearing the second one coming up…

The innards bubbled, I adopted the Porcelain Throne – Defcon Two-Mode. And I fumbled my way out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, caught my balance of sorts and hastened to the wet room.

No sooner was I seated, and with Trotsky Terence in complete control, the vagariously doloriferous evacuation began. The discomfort and pain were soon over, but it was an Oh, so messy affair! The regular black and dark red mini-torpedoes funked like never before! 50% liquid! Bits of blood could be seen as I rose to assess the results of the dump.

The entire toilet roll plus was needed to clear things at the rear end! Gallons of water was used from the sink to remove the gooey pipework, funking, multi-coloured evacuated product! Many flushes later, things seemed to have been cleared.

The reliable, made in Hong Kong, the contactless thermometer showed a lower reading this morning, of 37.0°c-98.6°f. But this was still a smidge high, methinks?

The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed on the first two tries to come up with a reading.

On the third attempt, it worked, but the SYS was high at 180, DIA at 75, and the PULSE was 89bpm.

I updated the Excel file with the new figures.

Then took the missed evening medications and making up the moring one to leave in view so that I didn’t forget that one later, as well. Humph!

I made a start on updating the Saturday Diary. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and PP, Peripheral Pete, were giving me their ackamarackus tricks, which slowed me down with my progress.

As I was going to make a brew of Glengettie, the rumbling innards kicked-off again – which worked out well as it happens.  I was only feet away from the wet room door at the time and was soon in and sat on the raised plastic seat…

Oh, dearie me! This session was worse than the first one and more Accifauxpa-ridden, too!

  • The content was just the same style, but there seemed a lot more of it!
  • Not so much blood escaped.
  • I had to restock with toilet rolls and kitchen towels. Ultra-messy, and so much of it, gooey, gelatinous, gunky and semi-liquid at the same time!
  • Foul-smelling, evil-mephitic and noxious!
  • The clearing of the evacuated product took far longer this time. Several refillings of the tank, and many flushes, eventually did the trick!
  • Then, when I thought everything had been cleaned and freshened, I spotted a clump that had, I assumed, ejected itself as I position myself on the seat.

Embarrassment, shame, disgust and the futility of my hopes all lingered for a moment or two, teasing, humiliating me. I got things cleaned up.

Then I returned to the kitchen.

I took this photographicalisation through the kitchen window, it didn’t come out well, did it? Humph!

I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a couple of yesterday’s pictures, then went on Facebook catch-up.

I made another brew. Then read and replied to some comments. Had a read of the Health Unlocked Peripheral Neuropathy site letters. And made a start on this post.

Well, time to get the ablutions sorted out, then. Off to the wet room, I trotted.

Well, just look at those legs, will you? Spider and iliac veins hardly noticeable! Clopidogrel almost gone! And the weals, lumps, myasthenia gravis, with no signs of any Idiopathic Polyneuropathy.  Admittedly the socks cover the ankle ulcer, but it was very faint.

I wonder if the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying a picture of my amazingly improving legs and knees? My pins photo would cost a lot less to the idiots who run the Tate Gallery, and if I may say so, are more artistic than Mr Andre’s ‘Pile of Bricks!’

Arthur Payne, Gallery Assistant, quoted in the Evening Standard, n.f.d. 1976: “These bricks have really brought the public in. They can’t make head or tail of them. Nothing has attracted as much attention as they have!”

Inchcock response: “It’s a shame something that is nothing to do with art should be bought by the desperate for fame, fools at the Tate Gallery!”

Of course, it doesn’t bother me! Oh, no!

Ablutions all done, I set to getting the walker-guide box filled with waste-bags and got them ready to rake to the waste chute.

I found another letter had arrived.

Worryingly it was from British Gas, an assured sign of price rises or confusing changes of tariffs! Sure enough, on opening the lying, two-faced, cheating, conning, unreliable, ignorant, mercantile, profit-seeking, undependable, unpredictable, untrustworthy, capricious, expensive, over-charging, anti-customer orientated, costly, compassionless, and pachydermatous British Gas envelope; I found an increase in payments! But it didn’t bother me!

I spat a little, cursed, sent a death wish through the ether, to Centrica boss-man, (who own British Gas,) Ian Conn, and the four bosses who raked in £2m bonuses as the customers were hit; with price-hikes! But it didn’t bother me! The profit-oriented gits are not going to get to me! Although, if I hear of any of them being cast-down and snuffing it excruciatingly painfully from Covid-19, it may cheer me up a little and bring a warm smile to my face.

I got out and into the lift lobby, with the rather well-filled box of waste-bags on the Trolley-guide and down to the tiny rubbish-chute at the far end.

I got in alright and even put the bags into the chute without any knocks or injuries down the tube. Getting back out was not so easily managed. There is not enough room to turn the walker-Guide around in the waste-room, so a spot of reversing is needed. I caught the trousers in the wheels coming out. Later I found a tear in the cloth and a spec of bleeding. It made me think of British Gas! I felt sick!

Out along the lift lobby in the opposite direction. The only art-deco end wall, I’ve not seen this on any other floor, seemed more attractive to me again. (Especially so with the bile being encouraged by British Gas!) I wonder if any other floors have this art-deco paint job on their wall?

I got back to the apartment, and I set about getting Josie’s nosh cooked and prepped. I was extra careful in the presentation of the extra cheesy, buttered and sea salted potatoes. They tasted good when I tried some; I hope Josie enjoys them. The strain-free tuna, mini-tomatoes, Surami sticks, roast onions, and today for a change, fresh garden peas and leeks added. A disc of the cheese she likes was left unopen, in case she fancied it later on. A can of Sainsbury’s Rum and coke added. I delivered it just before midday. I could her Josie talking to her sister on the phone as I rang the bells. Handed her the tray and explained about the peas and leeks and new drink. Again she asked why I buy the drink when I don’t drink it; also, I told her, ‘So you can drink it!’ today. She can’t understand it.

I washed the cooking utensils from her meal making, and I had a look to see if I could get in a slot with Iceland. I got one alright for next Tuesday. I hope they have the bread available this week.

I made just one more graphic on CorelDraw and made up my meal of the day. Potatoes with the rest of the garden peas and leeks, a few crispy onions, tomatoes and some horrible tasting cooked turkey pieces. But I did eat it all. The early weariness dawned.

I got the pots washed again and became rather insipid, and the tiredness came on rather quickly for some reason. I think I put the TV on and turned it off after a few minutes to search for Sweet Morpheus. But sadly, success was denied to me!

It was many hours before I nodded off. Yet I felt so weary and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t already snoring away? I do remember the door chimes going – that would have been Josie returning the food tray, I assume. But I just could not get up. The gal knows that if I am in, the door is never locked; she can open the door and place the tray and cutlery though the door. But the poor thing has a memory about as good as mine is, Hahaha!

Frustration was growing the longer I went without nodding off. It was as if something was determined that I would not get to sleep?

I lay there, started to plan the World Economic recovery from Covid, worked out that aliens would be seen openly next August 28th, and realised I had not had a wee for many, many hours.

Finally, I must have nodded-off, cause I woke up, in need of a wee-wee…

.

Indefinite Inchy – Friday 26th February 2021 Diary

Boys will be boys! Hehe!


Friday 26th February 2021

Spanish: Viernes 26 de Febrero de 2021

01:25hrs: I woke up sneezing myself awake; I was shivering, then sweating, coughing and not exactly in top form at all. But this has been the norm since the almost lethal, cheapest of all the vaccines, the AstraZeneca vaccination. Can’t be helped, I suppose, with all what they call; ‘Your underlying conditions.’ Hehe! These side-effects seem to be lasting but slowly getting less severe. I dread the thought of my second follow-up one!

Shivering a bit when I rose onto my feet, I tried on the Jenny donated slippers. I’m glad no one could see me struggle to get into them. Hehehe! A little large and loose and cold because of this. My efforts at cutting and fitting some insoles really ought to have earned a comedy award of some sort. Haha! I’m not sure if I’ve got them the right-side-up or not, either. Got them sorted and on the tootsies within fifteen minutes! Gawd, life is difficult at times!

I took a wee-wee, a bit of a marathon affair this one was. No sensation from the bladder again, a hit and miss and a guessing game! As I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, I had to divert sharpishly to the Porcelain Throne.

The wet room activities were horrendous, for three reasons mainly.

  1. The first was the painful, smelly, black and red, super-messy evacuation.
  2. The cleaning up and hand filling of the tank to rid the bowl of the product.
  3. Then as I went to wash my hands, what a mess in the sink, from the cloth I’d left in soak!

What the black stuff in the sink was, I didn’t know. But it as impossible to clean it off! It is embedded somehow or other, in the porcelain, the drain hole, sink plug and in the cloth? I did get a lot of it off, but nowhere near all of it? Confused!

More time lost!

I got the Health Checks done. The Boot’s China-made Sphygmomanometer produced some satisfactory looking results, though. SYS 148, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 88bpm!

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, proffered a temperature of 37.2°c – 98.96°f. A little high, but it showed in the green?

I’d not made the Glengettie yet, so I poddled to the kitchen to make the brew.

While I awaited the kettle to boil, I made up a couple of bottles of the Spring Water, adding a drop of orange cordial to each bottle.

Made the mashing and took the morning medications.

I tried to take a decent shot of the moon, but the Canon camera wasn’t interested in helping me. This rather pathetic effort was the only one that was worth anything. As photographers go, I’m not very good. Humph!

Then it came to starting the computer, and I feared yesterday’s strange problem appearing again!

I was much relieved when the computer started up okay, and no none-understandable messages telling it to me was out of range!

I took this sort of celebratory thumbs-up picture to celebrate things working correctly! Hahaha! 

I pressed on with the updating of the Thursday Diary post. Got it completed and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested a few snaps. Emailed the link and went of Facebooking catch-up for a few hours. I then went on the WordPress Reader section.

That took me a good while; I went to make another brew.

The going from cold to sweaty warm continues. Most uncomfortable.

I got the kettle on and spotted that the moon had moved nearer the earth. So, I fetched the Canon camera for another effort at getting a half-decent moon shot… I took one picture and ended up with these three on the SDH card?

What had I done? Why? How? I’m a little baffled again now!

I’d sort of half-expected that life would calm down in my dotage years – but no! Kluggledanks!

At 05;45hrs, I heard clunking from above. I hope someone is not in trouble. I only heard it once.

A dirty-great load of WP comments came through altogether! So I went investigating and replying. Some good lines and views shared with my WP family this morning. Cheered me up a smidge that did!

Off to the Porcelain Throne again. Gooey, messy, smelly, but not so painful this time, and no bleeding! The dang tank had to be refilled by hand a few times before I could clear things!

To the kitchen to make a brew, Thompsons Punjana this time.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, I resorted to the tins of extra foodstuff I had on the countertop.

The Chilli stocks were looking good. Chicken Meatballs in Chilli sauce, Hubbards (Sainsbury’s) cheapo Chilli-Con-Carne, and three different American Stagg Chili-Con-Carnes. Classic, Dynamite and Vegetable! Oh, and a Morrison’s one as well.

I’ve not risked trying the Dynamite one yet, but as soon as, well, if things get better with the vaccine side effects, I intend to try one. The vegetable one is delicious! I can safely recommend this variety. Mind you, they are all good enough for me!

Ah, well, better get the ablutions sorted out next.

I got side-tracked yet again. I decided to get some handwashing done. The too-small, Made in Myanmar Grey, maroon zip-up jacket. Got it washed, scented, wrung and hung above the sink to drip-dry.

To the wet room, and listened to the ‘Men from the Ministry’ (1959) on Rado Four Extra, while I de-nasalised, cleaned the teeth, and had a shave. I’d forgotten how bad the scripts were, Hehehe! And in all three activities, only had four dropsies! However, when it came to taking a shower, especially considering how well the last three had gone, it was payback time with a vengeance from many ailments, all of which had been so kind to me lately. Hey-Ho! Things started well enough, then:

  • As I was cleaning the rear-end, the adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a short but brutal flailing performance.
  • Hurt or damaged during this short incident: The right knee when I fell on it! BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) kicked off! And I gave my head a fair knock on my way down against the power box!
  • A first next; Getting back up, I lost my grip of the shower chair and fell on my nose against the metal!
  • And actually getting up, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) joined in the fun! Which caused me to fall on the same knee again!
  • Which ensured that the rest of the showering was most uncomfortable!

All red-faced from the showering and physical jerks! Haha!

By the time I got around to towelling myself off, I’d got a new headache, throbbing knee and nose, and was in fear of another right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance occurring!

Then I spotted some specs of blood on the towel. It was from the clout on the nose. Nowt to worry about, though, just feel a fool over. Hahaha!

Ah-well, such is life!

I lot of gentle medicating for Harold’s Haemorrhoids was needed as well. I also refused to use the Sock-Glide! But it was so cold this morning, I to struggle like fury to get the diabetic legwear on. That in itself should have been enough pain for the day, Humph!

As I left the wet-room, taking care not to walk into the door frame, I remembered about the treats I’d got for Jenny, Nora and Frank; I’ll take them down later.

I was feeling a little disappointed in the ablution session mishaps. Why? Things were going really well, I thought, until then anyway. Gnatwrangles! But I didn’t get into a self-pity mode… why I don’t know, but I was in pain, uncomfortable, yet I found myself singing away? Come think of it, I had not had a Right-Leg-Dance for ages, well, not one as bad as that one was, that had me over.

I gave the hand-washed grey zip-up jumper the bit of a wringing out and tried to ring Warden Deana, no answer; I think she might be on holiday, perhaps. Then I got Jenny’s bag on the three-wheeler, and I set out with it. I rang her to let her know I would leave it outside her apartment door. Which I did. But I realised when I got home, I’d missed the lemon wafer out of the carrier bag. Always something going wrong! Blurblecrups!

Ah, another letter from Nottingham City Homes. Notification of Restart of Fire Stopping Work. As instructed, I sent an email asking for an early time, 8am to 10am, any day that suits them best. It is way easier to get a message to Nottingham City Homes than it is to my doctor.

I tried ringing the surgery again. A recorded message to listen to that I could not understand, then a ringing tone. Aha! Then another recorded message. I wasn’t surprised. I’ll give up.

Jenny phoned me, bless her. We had a little natter about this and that, and she left me feeling more upbeat, as is her style. So that was good!

I made a brew again; maybe the taste buds are improving at last? And I took a photograph of the morning view. Flipping cold with it, but it was beautiful to see.

I had to make some graphics again, so I could create some templates for WordPress. So, onto CorelDraw and tried to adopt ‘Concentration-Mode’. It was near the head-down time when I got them finished. Tsk! But, I should have a Sainsbury’s order coming, but later than usual, it was the only slot I could get when I made the order up. So, I need to avoid falling asleep at all costs. Tint fair, is it? Haha!

I’ll check on the emails, just in case I’ve made another blunder.

Nope, they are on the way. Unavailable products again, mind. It’s better as I chose no substitutes, else I would have ended up with the wrong size PPs again, and I dread to imagine what crisps the would have substituted. Most likely, they would have sent shoe polish or something like that, Hahaha!

The headache from the clout in the shower is getting no easier. So I made a brew of Glengettie and took an extra painkiller. Red and yellow capsules this time, never had these before?

Still, better than nothing.

Oh, dearie me! When it came to putting together the template, I could not access Excel or Word???

Microsft automatically went into upgrade mode when I tried to open it, but only went so far, and then flashed it was not possible to access the programme at all?

Makes yer sick! They take the money, alright. Now, what can I do? The Swine, Microsoft. Always something going wrong. Grrrr!

The Sainsbury delivery arrived early. Same chap delivering as last week, decent sort of fellow.

He put the things into a carrier and the carton for me. I insisted he take a bottle of Babycham or a can of Vodka & Lemonade. Just two unavailables listed. Thanked him, and off he trotted.

I took the things through to the kitchenette, and I got them stored them away in cupboards, fridges, and bread in the freezer.

Prepped the meal for the night. Surimi sticks, tomatoes, garden peas, last of the corned beef and onions, a Marmite cheese disc, a pickled egg, buttered some milk roll bread, and looked forward with relish at rounding it of with the two fresh cream French Horns! Yummy! The meal got a deserved 9/10 from me. I digested it slowly… Mmmm!

It all worked out so well time-wise, too – as I finished eating, the Tales of the Unexpected began on channel 11. Perfick!

I could not stay awake, and I kept drifting off. Missed most of the two episodes. Humph!

Another stormy keep-waking-up night. Grunglebogknickers!

Bitter-Inchy, Tuesday 23rd February 2021, Sarcastic, anti-AstraZeneca Diary!

High-Class TFZer Bins!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 23rd February 2021

Yoruba (Nigeria, Benin, and Togo): Ọjọ Tuesday 23rd Kínní 2021

01:20hrs: After managing to get my body to move for the first time in hours (mind you, I had to, to use the Porcelain Throne), I clambered my way painfully to the Throne Room.

I was well unwell, and the symptoms of the Covid-19 vaccinations remained as strong as ever on me? The rasping cough, sneezing bouts, muddled and befuddled brain, and the evacuations were still of the mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! A little bleeding and a lot of pain involved. Am I just unlucky or what? Silly question!

As I sat there, full of despair, I recalled bits of a repeating dream I’d had. But by the time I’d got the pen and pad I keep in there, most memories had disappeared into the ether. I remember I kept going into a store that sold model railways, and things began to shrink until I could no longer see or recognise what I was looking at? The chesty coughing with accompanying sneezing started again.

I recalled the nurse yesterday advising me to send an email with the details of how I’m not coping very well with the Covid jab reactions. It all feels so long ago now, during all I’d done was sit down and mope, fall asleep, dream, wake and mope, fall asleep… Life is not good! Clarity of thought no longer exists! Oh, I did try to eat something, but it was not very successful.

I took the morning medications, and sneezing and coughing once again, I made up the email to send to the surgery. I searched Mr Google, asking what news they had of reactions to the Covid vaccine details:

A load of cobblers that. If anything that others in the flats, and what the nurse told me about her patients (Including her Mother) are have been through! Which is similar to how I am at the moment.

I made up the email and sent it off. I don’t expect a reply. I just thought the surgery might be making real details of the various side-effects?

I began to update the Monday Diary. Got it finished in an amazingly swift time, due to the brilliant Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) both behaving so well towards me! Grrreat! I posted off the Diary, emailed the link, Pinterested a photo, and went on Facebooking catch-up.

At this point, it dawned on me that I’d only been to the Throne once up to now? An improvement, that is? Fingers crossed! But let’s not get too excited, though, Inchy!

I went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I had a look at the comments. A fair few in today, my concentration had moments of clarity with them in answering. Another possible good sign that the Covid Vaccine may be relenting a smidge?

I took a chance and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

Another plus, the tea, as with everything I eat or drink, tasted all wrong to its characteristic flavour. But it was a little less acidy this time!

Then did the first (pre-dump) one of the Health Checks. The reliable old Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, shown another decent set of results. SYS at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse at 84bpm. Good enough for me!

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer showed a healthy-looking in the green, 36.4°c-97.5°f.

Ah, back to the Porcelain Throne! A copy cat evacuation as the last one. Mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! But, no bleeding this time! I got washed and cleaned up; it needed a few flushes to clear things away.

I walked into the door frame, leaving the wet room, again banging where the vaccine had gone into the arm, and for the second time, there was very little pain? Peculiar, to say the least?

I got the kettle on to refresh the mug of Glengettie that had gone a little chilly and decided out of the blue to venture out into the balcony, determined to try and get a couple of decent photographs taken in the early morning dimness.

To say I was using the Canon, I was pretty pleased with them for once. This Canon does not do darkness very well at all usually. I had a lot of failures before I managed to get these two. Refreshed the mug and did another Post-Dump Health Checks.

The Sphygmomanometer gave another set of decent figures. SYS 151, DIA 69 and PULSE at only 79bpm! The Chinese made contactless thermometer, proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f, a little higher than an hour ago?

I made up two templates. Sorted them, in order with the others, and got the ablutions done. No doubt I’m beginning to feel in better shape this morning, now.

I enjoyed the ablutionalisationing today. The brain seemed to be working a little better as well. The teeth cleaning and nasal blow-out went well, only two dropsies!

The batteries died in the dab radio. I wasn’t surprised; the six AA batteries never last longer than 3 hours in total. The biggest con! I left it turned off.

The shaving, well, I must have looked a little battered and bloodied afterwards, but the three nicks were only superficial ones. Four dropsies. I meant to get a photo of the chin; it looked impressive, but I was keen to get under the shower and freshen up using the lemon shower gel, and plenty of it was used! One clout against the grab rail when I dropped the gel and bent down to retrieve it. Total dropsies in the shower, just two!

As I dried off, I saw how the legs were almost perfect! I can’t understand why this improvement in their conditions has occurred. The old ulcer wound still lingers and occasionally itches. It seems the Clopidogrel arks and lumps that they told me would be with me forever have all cleared up? The biggest surprise is the Thrombophlebitis DVT are also absent?

Harold’s Haemorrhoids needed some tender treatment. I had no doubt cheered myself up somehow. I got the medications done and got dressed.

Then I got a few waste bags collated, and into the trolley box, and off to the waste chute and down the tube with them. I had just one box of recyclables and took that down in the lift to the green bin outside.

I had my first human contact for many days, other than medical personnel, and had a natter with Robert, the caretaker. I decided to have a hobble up Chestnut Walk to Winwood Court and call in see how the ILC’s were doing. I needed a bit of exercise.

I met with Penny, who was going to the bus stop en route. We had a laugh together. The Wardens were busy, said hello and wandered back to the flats. I was so annoyed with myself for forgetting to take the camera with me, Grrr!

I missed taking a shot of a murder of crows! I got back in the apartment and decided to take a couple of photos from the balcony in the daylight.

As bright as the sky was, the ground looked in shadows?

Then, made some spring water bottles up and added a splash of orange cordial and Jif lemon to them for drinking later on. I still think it’s a good idea to drink more yet.

I went on Amazon to see if I could get a Morrison order in. Bit of luck there, I got one in for today (11:20hrs) twixt    2:00 PM > 4:00PM.

Nice!

Unfortunately, I also got an email from the Email. About the failure to deliver the message I’d sent to the Doctors surgery about the Covid Vaccination problems! Humph! I’m all confused again!

How disappointing.

So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.

So, there is no way to talk to the Doctor and or inform her of the AstraZeneca side effects suffered, as the Nurse recommended me to. Just my luck to get the vaccine that is the worst one, the cheapest, and the one with the most side-effects! Remember folks, if you can, try to avoid this wicked, sick-making, Astra-Seneca crap, please do!

I searched the Government sight for assistance and found this significant bit of advice!

Hahahaha! Ask your doctor for advice? Great balls of uselessness! Not a cat in hells chance! I’ve been trying all day… Get in touch with your doctor? I’ve more chance of solving the World-Wide Hum while I’m on the Porcelain Throne there, thanks to the Astra-Seneca vaccine for the fifth time today!

So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.

But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India.

Then I got a letter from the Government: Extending my lockdown to the 31st of March 2021. Oh, lucky me!

The New York Times said: After Admitting Mistakes, AstraZeneca Faces Difficult Questions About Its Vaccine. Some trial participants only got a partial dose of AstraZeneca’s vaccine. Experts said the company’s spotty disclosures have eroded confidence.

The announcement weeks ago that a cheap, easy-to-make coronavirus vaccine appeared to be up to 90% effective was greeted with jubilation. “Get yourself a Vaccarino,” a British tabloid celebrated, noting that the vaccine, developed by AstraZeneca and the University of Oxford, costs less than a cup of coffee.

But since unveiling the preliminary results, AstraZeneca has acknowledged a critical mistake in the vaccine dosage received by some study participants, adding questions about whether the vaccine’s apparently spectacular efficacy will hold up under additional testing.

The UK is believed to have spent between £24 and £28 per dose on the Moderna jab, the Daily Mail reports. According to the BBC, while the Pfizer/BioNTech jab has a price tag of around £15, Oxford/AstraZeneca vaccine cost the government around £3 per thrust. So, I’ve also been vaccinated by the cheapest one available? It’s marvellous being so cared-about, innit?

But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India. I couldn’t give a fig now. Why bother?

I can’t get in touch with my doctor by email or phone. Professionals are telling me I must report the side effects to my Doctor… Glogknobbles! Mission Impossible! I’m fed-up!

I had a look to see if any comments had come in. Nope, not a one! Tsk!

The Morrison delivery tracker came available, and the shopper had one delivery; the next was mine. The chap arrived, but what he was saying on the intercom was impossible for me to understand. I opened the door, but he would not come in? I had to go down to meet him. That didn’t do me much good. Back up in the lift with him,  reluctantly, he wanted to leave the bags in the elevator, and he took my age etc., in the cage.

At last, he recognised I was struggling and brought them to the door for me, and off he trotted. Which was nice of the lad.

I was ell weary now. But, I was determined to get a meal of some sort.

I opted for Barbeque flavoured mackerel, surimi sticks, tomatoes, garden peas, wholemeal bread thins, and some misshaped cream eclairs for afters. The after-effects from the AstraZeneca vaccine meant things didn’t taste as normal by a long way yet, but a 6.5/10 for taste was given.

It went down alright; the sauce was a little hot, but that was okay, it helped to get some flavour through to the taste buds.

My hatred for being given this AstraZeneca vaccine, and the thought of having the second needle-full, depresses and scares me. As does my inability to report the effects to the Doctor.

My mind is still not right,

I’m in a terrible plight,

I’m losing the fight,

My sanity just might,

Be disappearing from sight,

My logicality is very slight,

Depression is at its height,

AstraZeneca vaccine; is my deadly Kryptonite!

Good night!

Inconversant Inchie, Tuesday 19th January 2021, diary

♥ Cinematical TFZers ♥

Tuesday 19th January 2021

Maori: Turei 19 o Hanuere 2021

00:30hrs: The demand for a wee-wee welcomed me as I woke up. I bravely forced my unfortunately ever-heavier stomached body from the comfort of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, sickeningly-beige-coloured, rickety, uncomfortable, recliner. Up on to my feet. I caught my balance, visited the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). I had an LPPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent-Peeing) session), followed by a period of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling),  that surprisingly, lasting for minutes!

I made a brew and washed the pots from last night that I’d left to soak.

Took a photo of the morning view, not a good one, now the Nikon camera has conked-out, I have to use the Canon camera, which doesn’t take night shots well. And then started updating the Monday blog.

And got it completed in record time, I think. NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were the only ailments that gave me any problems, they were both only intermittent, and I coped amazingly well. To start with, thus, my Smug-Mode was engaged for a while. I do hope they still behave when I have to take the shave!

The six wee-wees taken during the updating were of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style, and the CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling), but only a few drops and much weaker than the first one.

All done, I posted off the diary. Sent the Email links. Pinterested a couple of snaps. And delved into Facebook updating…

This was when the Smug-Mode died. NN, SSS and even Neuropthy Pete gave me a sat-down right leg dance! With the c1962 cabinet where I was seated on the computer, which still has some heavy wooden doors. I involuntarily tested their sturditity with my shin, ankle and knee a few times. Which set of CCP (Cathy’s Cartilage Protella) hurting somewhat. That bit of good luck didn’t last long! But at least I got the updating done with relative ease, so, I’m not moaning… much, anyway! Hehehe!

After the Facebooking was done, I went on the WP comments, then over to the WordPress Reader section.

Each of the four wee-wees taken during the Facebooking updating was of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style again, but the CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling) was far less.

Ah, the joys and mysteries of an ageing bladder! Hehe!

The morning summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I poddled to the wet-room. It was almost an exact repeat of yesterdays messy evacuation, but this time, with a decent amount of pain as the bale of straw looking torpedo gained its freedom. (It felt about the same size too!) Several manual refills of the tank were needed to clear the product, and some BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) annoying bending to clean things up. After cleaning up the room and myself, I generously stayed a lot of air freshener in the wet room, before leaving. The silver-lining search: At least I didn’t walk into the door frame going in or out. No, Dizzy Dennis, Balance-Loss-Brian, or tumble visits. It could have a worse session!

I was now nothing like I was when I got up this morning! The ailments were gathering, giving me grief, and I decided to take an extra pain-killer, with the morning medications, and make a brew of Glengettie. Which, I did.

After taking the medications, I carried out the Health Checks. Starting with the BP on the Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer. The SYS had come down from 184 to 170, and the Pulse from Sundays high of 91, yesterdays 66, now 75.

The Amazon bought, (for a very reasonable cost of £29), Chinese made Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading was of 36.9°c. It was up a smidge, but it is still in the green on the reading, so nae bother there to fret about at all.

I tried to get a graphic or two done on CorelDraw before it was time for the ablutioning to be done.

Ablutionalisationing Report:

As I went into the hallway en route to the wet-room, some idiot had left the mop and bucket in the hallway. Ahem! There followed a toe-stubbing right on the metal clasp of the wringer-outerer, at the bottom! It was a singularly painful one! Of course, I didn’t swear, or anything like that, or call myself ‘a stupid, thick ♫%£+ing idiot, either! Ahuh! I had a little talking to and admonishing myself, and swore to be more careful in future. Don’t know why I bothered really!

I got on with the shaving, pretty pleased with timing for once. ‘The Goon Show’ was about to start, on Radio Four-Extra, Grrreat!

As I was getting the shaving tackle off of the trolley, I… wait for it… stubbed my toe against the wheel! Silver-lining: it was a different toe, and not so keen as the first one! My language was all calm, not self-depreciative, I did not spit, and there was none-cursing. Ahem! I just plodded on.

The shaving had only a few dropsies, and just the one, I say, One, tiny nick. I did a decent job with the new Bic razors, too. , then I thought it best to abandon it, with things seeming to be on a run of bad luck.

Moved into the shower, after cleaning another of the multitude of black spots off of the floor. (I do a little patch each time I shower, Gawd I’m a good lad, I am at times!) I had a super-shower, a good scrub-up, used the brush and loofah! No banging into the grab bars, Dizzy Dennis’s, Loss of Balance Bernards!

The pins, hooves and tootsies looked in fine form. I dried off and got the medicationing done. Olive-oiled the ear holes. Next, I creamed the furuncle and carefully Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids. They did sting bit! Then Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cathy Cartilage’s knees. Put the eye drops in. Nasal hygiene sprayed the nostrils. Cleaned the spectacles, decoked the hearing aids and checked the batteries… It’s a job and a half every day! There is another dollop of advice for the whippersnappers. About what they might expect when they are growing old! Hahaha!

I got the PP’s on and exited the wet room. To go and get some clothes on. As I was struggling into the trouser, I realised I had not done my teeth cleaning!

I returned to the wet room, giving myself a third toe-stubbing on the mop bucket, that I had failed to move on the first stubbing! Somehow, this had a relaxing effect on me. The third stubbing of the day, surely that’ll be it, they say things happen in threes?

Got the teeth cleaned without too much bother. Then I got some waste bags made up and, and along with the masses of recycling bags and carton, I filled up the trolley and box.

This could be dodgy, I thought, getting the trolley to the chute and then down the lift to the caretakers’ bins, with any spillage, dropsies or other calamities!

I had a bit of bother getting the badly-balanced three-wheeler trolley out of the door into the lift’s lobby, and even more, bother getting it through into the lift lobby.

But being the confident, young, strong, capable stalwart that I am, I pressed on and got to the waste chute-room without the slightest bit of bother Ahem! Alright then, I got in trapped a finger in the iron chute lid, dropped three bags, clouted my head against the wall, when going down to pick one of the bags up. And coming back out, the left-hand knuckle got a bash against the door frame.

I got in a lift, and as I exited on the ground floor, the route to the main lobby door was blocked by signed and cones from the workmen who were doing the upgrading work. Nae bother for me, I used the fire exit out to the bin area. Robert, the caretaker, was not there, he can’t always be, he’s other jobs all over the flats. I dropped the box’s and bags where the bins usually are, but not today.

I hobbled along Chestnut Way in the drizzle, to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) Interrogation and holding cell office.

As I got into the Winwood Court foyer, a sharp dizzy-spell nearly had me over! It left me a little confused and worried afterwards. It only lasted about 30 seconds, but I had to wait a while before moving on. What next! Took this snap of inside Winwood Court.

No lights were seen in the office, so I retreated, back out in the light drizzle, and made my way back towards Woodthorpe Court. I heard a voice, and I turned around, it was ILC, Desk Top Dancer, Warden Deana calling me from the Holding Cells window. I returned to the office. She asked if I knocked on the door, but I could not remember the dizzy coming on. We had a distanced natter, Deana, Warden and Ice-skating champion Warden Julie, and I.

I departed, and the drizzle had stopped as I limped along.

Welsh William passed on his way to the bus stop. Not seen him for about three months now, but I don’t go out on the bus nowadays, of course. Jealous? Me? Yes!

I got back inside the building via the caretaker fire door.

Not a soul in sight, I reckon the working lads must have been on their tea-break.

I got through the passage and into the lift lobby.

The way is still blocked off, no access to the front door. The chaps seem to be making some headway in the upgrading. No rush, we’ve had it for four years now, I think… definitely three. Finding a protected Pipistrelle bat, then the holidays, then the Coronavirus, it must have been a nightmare for Nottingham City Homes. Well, some of the residents ain’t too happy about it. But it can’t be helped. Hehe!

As I got up to the floor, I met Robert, the caretaker, with few words.

Got in the flat, I put the trolley away, and finished washing the Manufactured in Pakistan, long-sleeved shirt, all done, wrung and hung to dry.

I got the photos sorted and used then to update this blog. It dawned on me then, I haven’t had a wee-wee for over two hours? Confusing!

I was getting in a pickle with the food deliveries, and I made an order for next Monday from Iceland. 06:00 > 08:00hrs.

Then had a look at the latest Coronavirus figures I could find, for Nottingham. Which showed a slight bit of optimism at least, a drop in numbers I thought. Then I came across this report, about where I live in Sherwood. This was not good! Yet still, people go out every day on the buses.

I’d love to go out shopping, but it wouldn’t be fair to others.

I pressed on with the updating of this diary. It is hard work with Nicodemus and SSS, both giving me jerks and making me make so many errors repeatedly.

I made a brew… still no more wee-wees?

The rain had stopped all together now, but the view when I took these photographs, from the thick-framed, hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking kitchen window, was looking decidedly somewhat threatening.

I was getting so tired now, and I thought about what to have for a nosh. Making my mind up can sometimes be an impossibility, so quisquous. I’ll check the use-by dates, then have the shortest, methinks.

The cooked smokey bacon had the shortest date on it. So I got a carton of chopped tomatoes, with some added basil oregano and sea salt. Warmed up the fruit and juice, and added the bacon. I think I may have put a little too much basil in, but I still enjoyed it—a flavour-rating of 7½/10. I had the last of the bread with it, but I hope some more will be delivered in the morning from Iceland.

I found some scribbled notes on the pad I was using to recall thing to put on here in the morning. But at this moment in writing, I’m blown if I can decipher it. Maybe, perchance a Doctor might read this, and can help me out? Hehehe!

I got the TV on and found a Sherlock Holmes episode showing. Ah, that’ll do me! I thought.

ZZZ!

Intangled Inchie, Thursday 14th January 2021

 You’ve got to love her!

Thursday 14th January 2021

Afrikaan: Donderdag 14 Januarie 2021

01:40hrs: I reclaimed ersatz life, to be greeted by of the ‘Hum’, and the noise from the machinery on the roof, greeted me.

For once, I was not a willing waker-upperer. There was a certain degree of melancholic dolefulness, lingering in the grey-cells. As it was beginning to develop into neuroticism, a bit of good luck, the need for a wee-wee arrived. And my mind was diverted to concentrating on getting safely out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner and catching my balance to get the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), in time.

1: I didn’t make it in time. Oh, dearie me! The PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) caught me out – then the wee-weeing started without hesitation as normally would have, with what seemed like a gallon of liquid belting out like water from a fireman’s hose! Never in the field of wee-weeing, have I passed so much in a shorter time!

2: I got en route to the wet room to clean things up, and a high-priority demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I must have been only feet away from the door to the wet room, and I failed to get there on time. Another embarrassing early arrival caught me out, once again!

CW023: The innards content came out part-way, and refused to budge any further. Which was confusing, cause it felt soft but massive. I grabbed the crossword book because it was obvious that things were not going to be pushable, I decided to wait until the innards were ready. When things did start, it didn’t finish completely. I ended up standing up in a straggling position. And the newly started yesterday, Andrex roll, was almost used up! The amount of bleeding again was a bit worrying.

The cleaning, freshening up (vigorously) and medicating after the evacuation was, inwardly belittling and took me ages! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were stinging like never before! The Germolid ointment is running low. New PP’s were put on, and a good wash and sanitising of the touch-areas was completed. Gawd, I’ve only been up for about an hour, and I was feeling drained already! What a start to the day! Granglesbognessbuggerit!

Off I went to the kitchen to make a brew of 99 tea. As I turned off the light to take this photo facing the kitchen window, I needed yet another wee-wee! It was another sudden urgent affair, and I was lucky to get to the bucket on time. Another long, blasting-out affair! Washed the mitts, back to the kitchenette and made the brew.

Got the computer on, and more Windows updates had arrived, they scare me you, know! Humph!

As I was loading WordPress, the need for yet another wee-wee arrived. I truly had to empty the NWWB, it was that full!

I washed and disinfected it, and returned with it to the computer room. Finally, I started on the photos uploads, then the updating of the Wednesday IT diary. Half an hour into this… yes you’ve guessed, another wee-wee was required! However, it was less torrential and far less of it this time. I washed the dandies and returned to the main junk room.

I engaged my famously unproductive Sherlock Holmesian Investigative mode. I pondered on why the wee-weeing was so persistent and powerful today. After a while considering and analysing all available data, I arrive at the following conclusion: I had obviously got the medications wrong somehow. With the  Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345, Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the launderette and pub, near the Lidl store, cocking up the pill pods and failing to put any covers on them, that caused me to drop all the pills on the floor. Got down on my knees to pick them up, but many have never been seen again, then calling for help for me to get back up off of the floor, and handed up guessing which was which of the Furesomide, Beta-Blockers and Codeine? Tsk!

I then pressed on with the diarying, got it finished. (Three wee-wees) Posted it off, Pinterested a photo, and went on the WordPress Reader. Then, onto Facebook catch-up, and decided to get the Health Checks done.

The SYS had gone up a little more. Humph!

The temperature was fine, though. At least something seems to be near normal. I can’t say that very often! Hehe!

A mammoth wee-wee, there are getting longer again? How? Why?


Back on the computer and had a read of the YourArea e-magazine.

The Coronavirus figures are now scarier than ever! I wish some of the folks who go out every day on the bus would read these figures. They could be spreading the virus every time? The UK figures shown were even more frightening to me.

I got some brekkers before it was time to get the ablutions seen to.

I sat and ate it all up slowly, to degust it fully. Everything on the plate was good tastewise. The dried onions, grapes and Pork & pickle mini-pies were excellent! A Brekkers-Rating of  8.5/10!

Off to get the ablutions done. And boy, yet again it was a good one: The ailments were fair to me…ish. The dropsies were only about eight in total. Just the one cut shaving. The showering was Dizzy Dennis-free. Oh, yes! Just the once clout against the grab-rail, but a very minor one. Even the medicationalisationing went injury free! Not pain-free, but you can’t have everything. Hehehe!

The hand-washing was done when I got out of the wet-room. Just one Myanmar (Burmese) zip-up jacket,  and a woollen cap, were done, wrung and hung.

I made up a coup;e pf rubbish bags and a recycling one, then got them on the box on the walker-guide, got to the doorway, and had to nip back to the wet-room for a wee-wee!

This one was far less vicious and much sorter. In my opine, this indicates that I must have taken two Furesomides instead of one in the Carrington Pharmacy cock-up. But was it a Codeine or a Beta-blocker that I’d taken extra? Could have been a Codeine, cause the toothache is not so bad today?  Another Sherlockian Mode there, Haha!

I decided to visit ILC, (Independent Living Coordinator), Ballerina and Warden, Deana later. To ask her to ring the chemist for me. To find out when the next prescription delivery is due, and ask them to not put the stuff in pill-pods. Why, you ask? (Well, you should! Haha!) The pill-pod-packs that the nurse thought and I would be a good thing and control my medications better are just not working at all! They come with different numbers of might dose pill? Last month they came with no pull covers, and I lost a weeks supply. And I am now out of Codeine; unless some of the rescued tablets might be them, but of course, I’ll never know! I do know it is hard work sorting tablets for the month from boxes, but I can check easier to see that they have not short delivered me!

I got down in the lift to the ground floor lobby, it was mayhem, the working lads all around, and having to move to let us through. I got outside, and our caretakers were out under the cover, near the bins. They took the bags and box from me. I had a chunter about the folks who keep going out every day, and spreading the virus, they agreed… I think.

Then I poddled in the getting heavier rain to Winwood Court and the Obersturmbannfuhreresses Interrogation room, Holding-Cell and Office. Hehehe! Deana rang the chemist for me and wrote the time down of the prescription’s delivery for me. 16th January. I thanked her, and out into the rain again back to Woodthorpe Court.

I got in the lift after the workers had made room for me again, bless ’em.  I thought I’d pressed the twelfth-floor button, but when I arrived at the fifteenth, I realised I hadn’t? Getting senile is not an option, you know, but it comes free-gratis, at least! Heterophemy is something else that we get free in our later years. Just thought I’d warn any whippersnappers who might have wandered onto this page by mistake! Not to mention the physical ailments.

I’m waffling again, that’s also a quality you might cop-for in later years, I did, obviously. Hehe!

I got down to the right floor, taking this snap as I left the elevator cage with my emptied out cardboard box and carriers adorning the trolley.

As I put the kettle on, I noticed that sleet had joined in with the rain, the houses all around were getting a coating on their rooftops. A lot of rain still, so it shouldn’t settle. (Famous last words?) Seconds later I got the camera and took this shot of the view from the window. I may have to review my forecast now. Har-har!

As I began to pour the tea, Colin Cramps attacked, in my left hand and fingers. The photo I took, not easy with the right-hand, assisted by my bulging, wobbly midriff. It might be because I knew what was happening, but the photo seemed to have a slight blur on the index finger, that’s because it was shaking all over the place, while all the other digits were distorted and rock-hard. I had to wait a while before Colin cleared the body, then he had a go at my right ankle! Spangleturdes!

I got the oven warming up for the sweet potato Cottage pie to be cooked later, with I hope lashings of ready-grated Leicester Cheese! Then went on CorelDraw, to make up a few graphics for future use.

The regular quotidian weariness fell early again, and I had to admit to failure on the graphic-making, and I stopped, had a wee-wee, and got the fodder prepared. The eyes were getting heavy already.

I got the ready-made sweet potato shepherds pie out of the fridge. Then, I added some frenched red pepper, and spread them over the tray, and dolloped tons of Leicester grated cheese on top of it. Put in the oven, and set the timer that I cannot hear, but hopefully just might, for 20 minutes.

I heard a clunk and went to investigate at the front door, and sure enough, there were three items put through the door. This one with the HMG insignia on it, I opened first.

That was eight A4 pages from the Government, about the new lock-down rules. I put them on the old no-longer working, broken-down printer to look at in the morning.

The second one was the INR Warfarin DVT results, I put that on the bookcase with the others.

The last one, a hand-written envelope, was something that made my day, it boosted me into a land of appreciation, joy and brought on contentment that I have not had for years. I have no idea of the donor, but felt she or he was an Angel!

To the gifter: “Thank you very much, that was so kind of you, and much needed. Bless!” These will last me until the prescriptions arrive, may your kindness be rewarded. ♥

I took the evening medications with the meal, as recommended by the Doctor. Then got the meal served upon the tray. I added some sugar snap peas and grapes, and a very basic pot of custard and jelly dessert, that took me back to Brookfield Place, and being an ankle-snapper! Hehe!

And a feast of flavescent, fermenting, fervid flavour, found its way down my gullet. I ate slowly to appreciate the taste. At first, I thought the peppers might be a little too hot for me, but they were fine, the whole meal was Grrreat!

I expect that being helped so generously by the unknown Angel, I’ll now be able to take a Codeine helped eased the pain from the teeth, and helped tremendously, in the enjoyment stakes. A flavour-rating of 9.2/10 for this feast of fodder! The taste-buds had been well satisfied. And ease of mind followed.

The wonderfully kind gesture of the donation was heartwarming.

I put the TV on, but I was soon in the hands of Sweet Morpheus. A good four uninterrupted hours later, I woke in need of a wee-wee. I could still taste the fodder, and knowing that (thanks to the mystery person) I had some painkillers at hand, contentment lingered.

Ignotism Expert Inchcocks Diary – Friday 18th December 2020:

——————————————————————

Friday 18th December 2020

Maori: Paraire 18 o Tihema 2020

01:25hrs: I stirred into an ersatz form of semi-life, my not wanting to, with great reluctance… for not only did I need the Porcelain Throne, but I realised I’d only I been in the land of nod for about two hours!

How can I best describe my mood? Grumpy, irritable, disgruntled and somewhat discomposed!

As I untangled my still-tired, rather-prominent, gigantic, wobbly-bellied body from the chair, and rose up onto my poor uncut-toenailed and ulcered feet, to catch my balance; the need for the Throne, encouraged me to cut short the exercises. Hobbling to the wet room, I remembered I have the Iceland delivery coming, and the appointment with the Chiropodist today at 13:30hrs. (Which proved that the brain had kicked into gear earlier than it usually does, Hehe!)

I had livened up a smidge by the time I’d got settled on the Porcelain Throne. Just in time to be fully aware that the evacuation was going to be a struggle! Nothing was going to move of its own accord, as things usually do for me. After, and I’m not joking, about ten-minutes of crosswording, I decided I had no alternative, but to force things along…

From the first agony-ridden inner-push, it must have taken another ten-minutes before anything moved, well there was an initial movement of a very short few seconds duration. It was a matter of giving it some hammer, stopping to recover from the pain and effort, and repeating the process! When things finally restarted, I thought I might split myself in two, crikey was it giving me some stick, in slow motion!

Eventually, a thud and the pressure eased. Oh boy, that had to be one of the worst (most painful) this year! A few minutes, I just sat there, relieved that the removal had been achieved.

When I gingerly got up, the first thing, of course, was TPing. There was not much bleeding, which really surprised me. Harold’s poor old Haemorrhoids were battered and stinging like hell, though! I turned to flush the system, and I did so with no confidence that the dirty great dollop of the evacuated product had the slightest chance of being flushed away, it was gigantic!

To my amazement, everything cleared at the first single flushing? No doubt about it, Constipation Konrad was the easy winner of today’s DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle with Trotsky Terence, for domination.

I got cleaned up and treated Harolds piles to a wash and gently applied some Germoloid ointment. Ahh, that was good! Unfortunately, I dropped the tube and bent straight down to retrieve it, when I should have used the picker-upperer… The bruise on the shoulder triggered SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) off! Cragnanglingeckers! 

Now more awake and alert, I returned to get some clothes on, and I spotted last nights medication pot was still full. So I got them taken straight away with some spring water.

Then had a good swig of the damned foul-tasting Docusate Sodium medicine, hoping to avoid going through an evacuation like that again! I remembered to take in the stated minimum of 2 pints (1 ltr) of liquid with it.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold afterwards. And eat about doing the Health Checks. The Chinese made, Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave a reading in the green again, at 36.8° c. Which happened I noticed when putting in the photos later, was the same as last Friday’s was!

The Sphygmomanometer, Chinese made, and sold by Boot’s, was well up on last Friday, at SYS 178 (158), DIA 84 (76) and the pulse was down at 72 (88). If the SYS stays high over the weekend, I’ll mention it to Nurse Hristina on Monday. That’s a point, will she be calling, cause it is near Christmas, I’ll check the result log for last week.

Ah, yes! I will not miss my beloved, admired, desired, Hristine, the Phlebotomy nurse. Her sweet smile (underneath the mask nowadays, of course), and caring attitude. ♥

I got on the internet, and began to sort out the Thursday updating, and…

I made a brew of Glengettie, had a bag of Frazzles, and got the morning medications taken. Then got the ablutions sorted out early while Mr Fries’ Liberty Global Virgin Internet was dead.

Well, with it being a stand-up session, too ear;y tp use the noisy shower, things went fine! No change of socks until later. A few dropsies, a few nicks shaving. Of course, the medicationing didn’t go painlessly, poor p;d Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Tsk! Other than these, it was an almost normal stand-up wash. The internet came back on (Phew!)

I was just making a start on the blog, and the Iceland man cometh. Looks like I’ve overdone it here?

Hey-ho! I’ve dec,… Hello, a carbuncle or furuncle coming up on the bum I think?

I got the things unpacked and stored away, the fridge and freezer are well stocked once again.

No pain now for fooder, well, garden peas and vinegar maybe. I can see if the mobile shop has any in later on.

I got the minced beef in the crock-pot to cook slowly, then I can add it to the chilli for my dinner this evening, or afternoon, or whenever I get the time and inclination.

When I first put the nice red meat in the pot, it looked delicious.

While putting a few bits away, I nipped back to check on the so-called minced beef. What a colour it had turned to!?!?!

I left it cooking with crossed fingers – not that there were any crossed fingers in the pan like. Hahaha!

I actually got to type some words on the block at long last! Updated some photos, did some comment answering, and sent off the email link I’d forgot to do.

Rechecked on the mince. I had a taste and made some more gravy and added it. I’m now getting a red colour, but only in the juice. This is confusing. Not that I was bothered, it either comes out alright or not. Now I’m getting into the accepting mode again?

I made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and used the milk that had just been delivered. Do you see the size of the bottle? I felt sure I had only ordered a small one.

I uploaded some photos and made a start on this post again. Stopped, and went on Facebooking. Pinterested a snap or two, and back to doing this blog.

The wee-weeing situation was little, and often, there’s not enough bandwidth to keep mentioning them. Humph!

I checked on the Google Calendar to make sure of the foot appointment time.

Herbert joined in with the workers’ chorus for a while. Between them, they actually produced some passable music-like noise, highly commendable. With the drilling being the bass guitars, and Herberts whatever he was using, being the drummer, bass drummer and clanger. When Herbert stopped his tap-tapping, knocking and banging, the noise lost its musicality and became just a ring to put up with. Nice on Herbert!

I persisted with the blogging, took the morning medications. (Well remembered there Inchcock! Hehe!)

The lack of vinegar and tomatoes for Inchies Chilli-Con-Carni creation, dish, bugged me, and then I realised the mobile shop was coming today. I shut down the computer to let in cool, got the three-wheeler trolley walker, filled the box with the small waste bags, and took them to the waste chute.

Got the handwashing done, just two pairs of diabetic bamboo socks. I then got the feet washed, even though I did them earlier, it’s not fair on the toe-cutter; thus, I eliminated any pongs she may otherwise have had to put up with. (Oh, I am a good boy!)

I fought my way out with the trolley-guide, (I can’t understand how I struggled so much, presumably a few mini-dizzies?) I got the bags down the chute.

Then, had a proper performance in getting a lift down to the ground floor. When I did get in the cage, it stopped on the 9th, 7th, 6th and 4th floors, the people waiting at the first three waved me to carry on, not wishing to share the lift, which was fair enough. On the 4th, a chap got in and was telling me that he too had the same problem getting the elevator to stop at his floor, and it took him over twenty-minutes to get this one to stop for him. I felt an affinity with him, Haha!

Down and outside, only a couple of folks waiting for the mobile shop. Angela, who I have missed seeing and talking to, and Josie joined us later. While Angie was being served at the van, her walker guide blew away in the wind, across the road and hit a car parked on the opposite side of the road! I hobbled over with my trolley and retrieved it. I could not see any marks or scratches on the vehicle. Pete, the mobile shop owner, came and collected Angie’s trolley from me for her. Never a dull moment at Windwood Heights! Hehehe!

I got some small apple pies, a bottle of vinegar, he didn’t have any garden peas, and two tomatoes. Not cheap mind, but he has to make a profit. He was selling cars before, but the virus put an end to that. So he got the van and fitted it out, and visits two days, Tuesday and Fridays at the flats for us.

A bit of fame in this photo, for Angie’s husband, Roy. The photo appeared in, of all papers, the Daily Telegraph. That’s Roy at the mobile Shop being served!

Back up to the flat, checked the minced beef. Had a nibble, and it was alright. So I transferred the pot’s contents to the large saucepan on the hob and got the oven warming for later after the toenails had been done, and I can get the part-baked rolls in it.

Got some treats in the trolley, and set off to the Hairdressing Salon. It took me even longer to get a lift down this time! But worserer than that, it was belting down with rain! I was well soaked through, the trolley had rain ibn the bag as did the carriers… miserable feeling!

I sat on the settee in the lobby of Winwood Court, as I was a little early arriving. It took me a while to get down, the settee is far too low for us old folks. Got the crossword book out, but it had got sprinkled with the rainwater, not that it mattered much because I’d forgotten to take a pen with me. Humph!

A minute later, a young lady came out to me, asking if I needed the nail cutting, and she could do me now. The battle to get back up again out of the low settee, took me a while.

After getting all of my details as I sanitised my hands, I was led by Sarah, to a large black swivel chair, with a footstool with extra padding on it. Then warned that the chair was not stable and might move. We chatted all through the few minutes cutting of the nails. Which was super-nice!

They arranged for another visit and booked it for 12th February for another nail-cutting job. A card was given to me, but with me wearing different clothes, I feared I may forget about the cards and putting the date in my calendar.

I thanked the ladies, paid the £25, and as I was leaving the salon, I realised that this was the first time I’d been in any hairdressers for over fifty years! No need to, with no hair on the head, Hahaha!

I dropped the bag off and sat hoping for the rain to ease off, before the walk back to the flats. Deana appeared, and asked me why I was sat there, was I waiting to see her? Told her I was waiting for the rain to ease off, so I didn’t get soaked again. Julie kindly walked with me through the closed walk-through passage and opened the end door for me into Woodthorpe Court, bless her.

Not only did the walk back (green), compared to the walk there (yellow) take less time and distance, but it saved me from another soaking.

My only aim when I got in, was getting the Chilli-Con-Carne done and scoffing it! Put the rolls in the ready-heated oven, and warmed the saucepan. Ten minutes later, I was serving up the feast!

The meal tasted great! Somehow through my faffing about with the seasonings, it came out better than I ever hoped. I wallowed in eating it, masticating slowly to appreciate the flavour. 9/10 for this one!

As I was doing the pot cleaning, one of the infamous sudden bouts of WTC (weariness, tiredness and complete lack of concentration) dawned on me. That was then of my doing or even thinking about anything else, bar sleep!

Stripped and into the jammie bottoms. Plonked onto the recliner, turned the TV on, fell asleep within minutes (Mind you, I needed it aster last nights pathetic two-hour kip), this time it went betterer, I got three hours unbroken rest, before waking in urgent need of the Porcelain Throne.

Hey-Ho!

Inchcock – the Defeated! Thursday 10th December 2020

Only the better class of young hunks to apply! Haha! ♥

Thursday 10th December 2020

Croatian: Četvrtak, 10. prosinca 2020

23:45hrs: Woke, up, balance, out-of-it mode. Made tea, Health checks and wee-wee. I was intent on getting the grafting of the template creating done today, even if I got nothing else done. There was (I thought) no deliveries, nurses or owt else coming or due today.

(It was to be my most busy day for years).

Made a brew, took the photo from the kitchen window.

Got the computer on and started to do the graphics for the templates.

A mug of tea and a wee-wee.

Stuck into the template work job, and worra job it turned out to be.

To my utter amazement, the intercom rang and lit. It was the Sainsbury order I thought I’d ordered for next week?

Got stuff in the kitchen.

Sorted and put away. Gone a bit spare on the cleaners?

Back to the template graphic-creating. Spent hours on it, not getting anywhere fast, but making progress.

Stopped and sent of yesterdays blog link email. Posted it to WordPress.

Back to the template graphic-creating.

Thought I heard a knock on the door, no bells chiming.

It was the Warfarin INR, Anticoagulation test results. Not so good this time, down to 1.5, oh dear.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing)

Sister Jane rang, to tell me I’d emailed the wrong link, I’d sent Tuesdays. We had a little chinwag. I checked and sure enough another cock-up done by yours truly! Got things sorted and changed, and added a new link to the email and replied to it to send the proper link. (I think!)

I rang Jane, and she confirmed it had got through, a long nattering session took place.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing)

Made a brew and had a wee-wee.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing) This was an eight-hour stint, and I hadn’t even got the graphics finished properly, let-alone made a start to the template creating yet!

Off to the Porcelain Throne. Rock-hard, agony, bleeding, much cleaning and medicating needed.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing) Gave up, totally done-for mentally, now.

Got the nosh prepared, intending to get the Ablutions belatedly tended to afterwards. (Sheer mental fatigue, and interruptions, meant I didn’t even get the ablutions done at all – (that’ll be interesting in the morning having to shave off two-days stubble) Huh!

I got the nosh served up and anticipated a bit of a feast. Not to be, I must have been so disorientated and tired, I found it impossible to eat much of the fodder. I scraped most of it into the bin bag and added that one to another.

Got down in the chair, with the apple in my hand, and drifted almost immediately. Woke in need of a wee-wee…

The door chimes rang out, it was the sweet lady from the chemist’s. As I heaved myself out of the recliner, I dropped the apple and knocked over the bottle of spring water. Having only the jammie bottom on, I wrapped the quilt around me to save embarrassment. In the state I was in, I could not hear a word the girl was saying, but I’m sure she wanted te medications that were sent with no lid back, but I just couldn’t be sure, and I muttered something about not feeling well, I think.

She handed me the two bags of meds. I apologised for not being with-it and thanked her.

I was really in a confused state, but I needed to check on the medications.

I must ask Dean to ring the chemist for me tomorrow, to ascertain about what was actually said, and how to get the tablets back to them.

They had sent some poo-softener, but not the Dioctyl capsules, this time they despatched Docusate Sodium medicine. Taking this medicine is going to fun with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and a Neuropathic leg dance in the offing while doing so. At the same time, I try to measure the liquid into the spoon to take 6 doses a day! I thought the capsules were great as well!

Another weak wee-wee, and down into the recliner, confused, mentally buggered… and the Thought-Storms began… Fed-Up!