I’m getting most frustrated. The picture uploaded is not being recognised, so getting taken photos in is difficult. This morning on starting the computer, it worked, once only – and went back into hide-mode! So, again I’ve got photographs that I cannot use.
At least it did allow me to get some in from yesterday; before it died a death. But it will not recognise them from today. Screen windows keep changing size. CorelDraw going off of its own accord…
Here are the ablution ones rescued from Sunday.
I took another photo this morning, but I can’t get it onto the computer – Humph! The left ankle appears to be erupting with an ankle ulcer building in prospect, as the right ankle ulcer seemed to be fading at last? The concentrated marks have all but gone, but blood’s fuzzy dark blue vein spots have increased? Possibly something to do with the DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis?), but I don’t really know… I do a lot of that… not knowing!
Feet before getting in the shower.
After drying off from the shower
Using Glenda, prompted Back-Pain-Brenda, Bleeding Blair, Arthur Itis, and then Toe-Stubbing Thomas to kick-off! Anne Gyna joined in later, as did Shaking Shaun.
I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda
Yes, I had to use the dreaded Sock-Glide-Glenda, Getting the socks on was a right painful bugger… I was bruised, bleeding and felt like I’d been on a bender! Both feet and legs felt like they’d been in a blender!
I wouldn’t call my Sock-Gliding operation artistic…
At times things went somewhat troublingly ballistic,
Sometimes it was unintentionally aerobatic…
Occasionally convincing me I’m becoming autistic,
On one occasion, the bleeding was near fatalistic,
However, through the agony, I resisted getting too frantic!
Since becoming a resistant, nervous Sock-Glide operator,
Using it scares me, my nerves are shattered – well, poor,
I always end up bruised, bleeding, and feeling sore!
Split fingernails, trapped fingers, stubbed toes, bruises and more…
Before tackling it, I force myself into being perfervour…
Why? I don’t know, well I think I might, but I’m not sure!
Can I get any help with this? Mayhaps psychiatric?
Medicationalistical? Uppers, or something anabolic?
Bearing in mind, I’m uneducated, almost analphabetic…
Especially difficult, I’m sure that I suffer dyscalculic,
Which is nothing to do with Sock-Glide-Glenda…
It seems I have, as happens ad infinitum, lost track…
This occurs sometimes, but I might get it back?
At last, I got the bamboo diabetic socks on. Haha!
But I have to wear the socks again on Tuesday…
Tomorrow… to go to the bank, Oh, criminy!
It may send me over the top – Potty!
But these fears I must delay…
I wish they’d invent socks you can put on with a spray!
But help is coming, in the beautiful form of Jillie ♥,
The very thought of seeing her sends me giddy,
Big problems sink when I see her, to scintillae…
The opticians in the morning that’ll be jolly…
And cost a lot off lolly – needles in the eyes, Ho-ho!
Glaucoma and cataracts mean the iris’s are too narrow…
After that, they can see the degree of the problem, I hope so…
Then decide on treatment; it’s got to be done, though!
Now, there’s no comparison twixt the above two,
Albert is dead; Inchcock is in the queue…
Both smoked a pipe, Erinmore honeydew,
Violence, they both tried to eschew,
Albert was very clever, too…
Inchie also had thoughts, but very few…
He can’t get them to do what he wants them to,
He still struggles with his toilet tissue issue!
Alto-Inchie on Inchcocks Waking & Rising
Once woken, he works out what time and day is dawning, A wee-wee will be needed, while he’s still yawning, Check what ailments are most perturbing… If any clothes are on, he’ll start disrobing… The fungal lesion will be bleeding or throbbing, Arthur Itis, Reflux Roger and Ann Gyna may be stinging… With doing the ablutions, he’ll start grappling, Little Inchie, embarrassingly like a watercress sapling, The constant wee-wees, flowing then ebbing… Porcelain Throne time, so he starts the divebombing,
Having cleaned as best, he can, Medicationalisationings is his plan, He does so sometimes painfully, others with elan, Gets his medications from off of the Ottoman… Sprays, drops, creams, ointments, some vegetarian!
Stops any bleeding with Brute aftershave, and then began… Little Inchies Fungal lesion cleaning, a delicate organ! Tea made, he awaits his carer whichever, Julia or Megan, Falls asleep and dreams of a two-headed Martian!
This morning’s ablutions got Inchcock to his bolshiest…
The Porcelain Throne did not clear; this did not please!
Five times the water in the tank was replaced…
Struggling to get the lid back on, his lesion began to bleed,
Eventually, the evacuated product blockage was freed,
But he banged his knee, and this he didn’t need!
And for some reason, he peed and peed and peed!
Alto-Inchie on Inchcocks Activities
Inchcock grabbed his Canon, camera,
Into the balcony, he did manoeuvre…
To his amazement… the rusty red van had parked almost between the lines in the proper place, and not on his beloved yellow chevrons! On closer inspection, Inchcock realised some else had parked in his illegal corner on the hatched area, forcing him to try and park his van in the car park – which he very nearly managed between the white guidelines. Haha!,
Mayhaps this time, he returned being sober?
Although he did park correctly last October!
Alto-Inchie: Inchcock Cooks!
Inchcock prepped the meal for Josie, and takes a wee,
Get the ingredient together properly,
Then he fell over majestically…
Well, at least acrobatically…
Now he has a freshly swollen knee…
Arthur Itis hurting, which is obligatory…
He got the chilli-stew cooking, not hassle-free!
Then his Sister rang he…
Then he fell over majestically…
Well, at least acrobatically…
Now he has a freshly swollen knee…
Arthur Itis hurting, which is obligatory…
He got the chilli-stew cooking, not hasslefree!.
Sister Jane and Inchcock, nattered away free…
Until he smelt something burning, to the kitchen he did flee…
Spilt over stew, it was as if the 1812 overture by Tchaikovsky,
Had entered his head, as he panicked, profusely!
He cleaned things up, started again; and felt glee…
He even swore at me!
Alto-Inchie: Handouts in Thanks
He sorted his freebies out, updated, some new,
Including the Mojito ones, he read as Cocktail,
Then found they were non-alcoholic… Wail!
He was fooled by the microscopic printing, that said Mocktail
Still, some of the Nurses and Carers don’t like ale…
He got Josie’s nosh done and tasted, luck did prevail,
An Accifauxpas delivery route did entail…
He stubbed his toe against the heater rail…
He arrived at Josie’s door feeling frail…
As it opened, he saw she looked hearty and hale!
So with a smile and some banter, he did regale…
Glad she looked so well, chattering he had to curtail…
Cheerily wished all the best, to his nightingale,
Off for another wee-wee he did bail!
Alto-Inchie: Inchcock Broods For A While – Then Brews
A memory shot into his brain, he was mortified,
The thought of The Meadows where he lived…
He supposes the old houses had to be sacrificed,
They were decrepit, with rats, fleas and mice…
Must seem bad to folks; he thought they were nice…
As having alopecia, chickenpox, pneumonia, polio and lice?
We were all poor, sickly, but not at all mystified,
When yet another child got ill and died…
We helped each other, we were unified…
A family of thousands, with fear, denied!
Inchcock made a Glengettie brew,
Feeling better now, well he would do…
Tea can be good for you…
Covid-19 and Sars-CoV-2, why they came, is what I’m thinking?
Government confused findings, need reabsorbing…
Pandemic and HMG hold a party, hobnobbing?
Annoyed me, so this Ode I’m now scribing…
Yet, to their rules, I’ve been acquiescing,
Two years now, since any Doctor interfacing,
Definites, the Government are sidestepping?
I feel like I’m permanently convalescing,
Anti-maskers are not exactly applauding…
Anti-vaccers protests showing no signs of concluding,
Jab or mask-wearing? Some are not deciding…
I follow the guidelines, but it can be confusing,
Doing what you can to protect others is frustrating,
Between the Do’s and the Don’ts, there’s bile offloading,
No give or understanding of others, compassion is subsiding,
Sarcasticness abounds, even where I am residing!
Coronavirus arrives, HMG problems beginning,
Changes meant more hassle, problems teething,
Proletariats, needing hopes strengthening,
Some vague chance of things improving…
New strains, deaths, started the mudslinging…
Ordinary voters started teeth-gnashing,
Anti-vaxxers and maskers began badmouthing,
But some uncaring folks just started shrugging,
Accusing HMG of ignorance and gross mismanaging,
The businesses set out to gain more profit – I’m seething!
Indeed, we should be encouraging, not rubbishing?
Official figures are baffling and misleading,
Dyscalculia makes it difficult in reading…
Have the Governments been Shanghaiing?
In favour of financing, from businesses and banking?
Are their advisors’ advising wrongly and failing?
Does their arriere-pensee to us need rethinking?
How do they stop the money-men from sabotaging?
The bankers, investors from profit-pocketing?
Indeed it’s impossible to stop them interfering and scavenging?
And, whatever’s happened to the political duelling?
No calls from Labour, as Kinnock would have been lambasting?
Lib-Dems are still about, are they? I’m just asking!
I think I worked it out; why is the silence blasting?
They both think, thank heavens, we are not ruling…
All this confusion, entangling… they’ve no idea of detangling,
So give Boris no bother, or at the subsequent voting…
The masses may vote for us, and we win… nonplussing!
The thought of us dealing with things is blood-curdling!
Labour in power, cause enough for frightful caterwauling!
Well, that’s enough of my HMG & Covid caterwauling,
Not such a good Ode, this one, it left me… Tsking!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
WHY AM I SO UNLUCKY?
I’ll start with one event, the heart thing,
That was not unlucky; it did not leave me whining!
This operation saved my life… Else I’d have been missing…
The Hernia, Peripheral Neuropathy and Colin Cramping,
Cancer of the bladder, and stroke, and a lot of bemoaning. Hehe!
Being an unlucky sod can be so time-consuming,
Leaving very little time left for resting and vacuuming,
A Whoopsiedangleplop, maybe the Thought Storms brewing…
A memory loss, missed bus, lost keys or painful burping…
From near-deadly to a tap left running or finger burning,
Ailments, senility and old age means the end of by beep-bopping,
The worst is Vascular Dementia, the brain transitioning…
My diabetes and oedema cause much bother urinating,
Each morning, the feet will be either bloated or very thin,
It’s not so bad since I stopped doing my trampolining,
The tumbling or fallings is constantly threatening… Neuropathy and Shaking Shoulder Shirley are disquietening!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I regularly get subconjunctival haemorrhaging,
Saccades and the new eye problems are definitely worrying,
Floaters, cataracts and glaucoma, almost frightening!
Everything taking longer to do, from the ablutioning…
Painful bending to retrieve dropped items can sting!
Oh, and evacuations on the Throne, and Wee-weeing!
I nearly always cut myself shaving,
Sometimes taking many minutes peeing…
Occasionally, taking only seconds at urine freeing!
The Porcelain Throne, often with evacuation misfunctioning.
Porcelain Throne options for me are; water-like spurting…
Which can be over like lighting!
Or resistant, rock-hard, and bloody,
Either or both are constantly hurting and agony!
Cleaning, me or the flat internally, is so burdening,
Seems nowadays to take an eternity, and much groaning,
Hardly any time for my beloved Word Pressing,
My confidence is egringolering…
My hearing is worsening…
Every task’s success is gimping!
The leaking blood through the plaster was bubbling!
But it was not at all troubling…
Cause actually, it made me do some laughing…
Which I found rather refreshing!
I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.
Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!
I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!
Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…
However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?
As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.
Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!
I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.
Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.
After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.
They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.
I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!
The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.
Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)
Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.
I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!
I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.
I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!
BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?
Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.
That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!
I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.
Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…
The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.
Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.
The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!
But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!
When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.
She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.
Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥
So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!
It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.
Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.
As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.
Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.
Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…
I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.
I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?
“What’s its name?”
“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”
“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”
When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?
And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…
A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?
I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…
I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.
Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.
I’ll start at the beginning, (Sounds logical to me? – Hehe!) Perhaps I might learn to spell as well… tomorrow…Tsk!
I woke around 03:00hrs and rose gingerly to my feet,
But the knees and legs bothered me most, mate…
Just look at ’em on the left here… What a state!
Still had Arthur Itis giving pain and the flat feet…
Without pains, a life I would think would be incomplete?
The regular fluid retention that usually sinks into the feet seemed now stuck in the top of the legs. My patellas are all knobbly? But I’m not complaining (then anyway).
I began to think through the needs and actions of the potentially hectic mornings requirement. Which, as I noted, were:
Get the ablutions done early, like straight away…
Make sure I do not use the shower as early as this in the morning, so I’ll have a stand-up session at the sink.
Get the teeth done first.
De-coke the nasals.
Saccades eye drops in. (Try to get some of the medication into the eye this time!)
Before shaving, don’t forget to say your little prayer to the Peripheral Neuropathy God. And make sure the aftershave is handy to stop any bleeding.
Do take care medicationalisationing. I can tell already that Little Inchies final lesion has been bleeding cause as soon as I moved, the dried blood cracked as the P.P.’s were adjusted… So be prepared for agony, and brave it out, mate!
Now cometh something that will be as much hassle and pain as anything…
Yes, the sock-glide has to be used for the first time in months! Sorry, but it’s just too cold to go out to the Dentist, barefooted in my shoes this time!
I wish you all the best of luck with carrying out this fearful, scare-making task! But, it’s got to be done!
Things went relatively well as it happened.
As expected. The worst by far was the tender application of the dreaded, feared, always tear bringing…
Tender in the extreme and extra painful cause one has to get to things in the first place… 😢
The Sock-Glide won the ‘Most Hated’, The Most Feared’ awards. But the fungal lesioning retained its status as ‘King of the Excruciating Medicalisationings!’
I was so glad that I got these done and out of the way early on… I even Smug-Moded about it for a while!
I made my first brew of tea, finished off yesterday’s blog, and got it posted off. The Carer came nice and early, so that was nice… her seeing the photo of my legs on the computer screen was a bit harrowing for the gal, though. Hahaha! Me too!
I thanked the girl and offered some nibbles or drinkies in thanks, but she wouldn’t have any. I fang-you! Off she went taking my waste bags to the chute with her.
The computer turned off, and I got down to getting things ready in earnest. Let’s have a think now…
Bus pass to get back home with, yes! Camera, check. Cash card… okay. Keys, Alert bands, Warfarin I.D., yes… Somethings missing, methinks? Aha, shopping list and cash card, Gorrit! By the time I was all ready to go, it was about 08:15hrs as I set out. I got into the lift and down to the ground floor…
Then went back up to the 12th-floor and the flat and got a face mask adorned. Nearly made another cock-up there!
Down and outside, over the road, Accifauxpas, nought!
I turned around, to the view of Winwood Court,
I took a photo of it… well, I thought I aught!
But the gravel hill up into the park made me fraught…
Made it up the hill in one go – but I was heavily breathing,
A dog came from nowhere, barking at me; I was seething!
Nearly ended up mucking my underclothing!
The dog owner arrived, she was chunky, fortysomething…
I fell in love again… the mouth was frothing…
I limped my way through the twitchel no one was about,
I was a little nervy, so I still kept a lookout,
Had a look around as I came out…
That twitchel has an ominous aura, there’s no doubt!.
Down the hill, as far as Elmswood Gardens, then right…
And alongst it. I plodded towards the traffic light…
Mansfield Road road, the spending did start!
Too early for the Dentist, I called into the Wilko store, Laundry booster, Zoflora and Trots tablets… Yes, some more! The tablets were easy to get, four feet from the floor… The booster too high, out of reach, to my displeasure! I ask a lady for help, at her leisure… The Zoflora, bottom shelf, I ended up on the floor! But the ladies laughed and helped me up some more!
Out just in time to get to the Dentist,
They treated me well, although they were pressed…
A new gal training on the reception desk…
I was soon fetched to see the Dentist Oola Bogusz,
As she leant over me, I could sense her firm left bust…
She smiled at me a lot, was I going mad or what?
She and the nurse actually joked with me???
Toothpaste prescription, Something amiss here, just you see!
In no time, I was treated and set free!
I had a funny turn while paying my dues…
Well, I had it when I first joined the queues
These were also patient with me… another ruse?
I have to work this out at home, have a muse…
Why the change? They all usually have a short fuse!
Not many folks about? Most of them had not got facemasks on. Even in the Dentist and Wilko. What’s the matter with them?
Down to the Co-op, to get some cans of their delightful own brand chilli-con-carne… why the tastebuds were salivating at the thought of getting some more cans… But No! The assistant asked the manager for me, and I found that they had stopped stocking this product, Grrr! Gnatwrangles! Damn them! Curses! Flibblegonkackles! Gits! Slobs! Flibblegonkackles! May they go bankrupt! And may whoever it was who decided to stop stocking my beloved cans of Chilli; Get festering, fungal-lesions bursting out slowly all over their body, for at least a full year, before they finally rot away; in absolute agony! Not that it overly bothers me, mind!
Then up to the top of the road to Lloyds Chemist,
Oh, Pharmacy nowadays, sorry, how remiss!
I got the prescription toothpaste from Alice,
Leaving, I trapped my finger in the door…
My Saccades vision is now feeble & poor…
And the left index finger is bloody sore!
I got to the bus stop and met Esther, we had a natter, as she was on her way to the flats to do someones cleaning. Nice to see her. We walked through the link passages together – they can’t touch me for that! Hahaha! (Can they?)
Home Sweet Home!
Well, things didn’t go too bad, well, maybe… erm… either way, I did enjoy the getting out of the flat bit. Although it cost me a lot of dosh, a little blood, frustration and had moments of utter confusion… that’s life, you see… Well, it is for me!
My Route Taken
Yellow on foot – Purple on the bus.
I unloaded the bits of stuff purchased. Of course, there would have been more; had the lousy, stinking, crap-ridden, overcharging, dog-breath, Klunglefrazzled Co-op had some their ‘Honest Value’ Chili-Con Carnie to sell me. But never mind. Shit!
I soon settled into a routine that matched the rest of the day, Drinking spring water, tea and a pee; what a thirst I’d got on me, I may not have been contented, but not depressed, exactly, I started the mammoth task of doing this blog artistically! In between blogging, I even had two callers, socially! A lovely carer to drop off a Christmas card, nice & early.
Even got a phone call from the Doctors surgery, Wanting to arrange a booster shot for me… I explained I’m having it done at the chemist this Saturday, Adding, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway… Why is that? she did say, ‘For medical, the yearly…’ No, you’re not booked in, evidently? I’ll check, hang on, she said wearily… I’ve got it on my calendar, my dearie? Have I got it wrong again? Am I illusory? Nothing on our records, she added hastily… Oh, a free day for me then, that’s satisfactory… Maybe I can have a hassle-free day? Yes, well, I’ll see, you may be hearing again from me?
The feet, after not wearing socks for months, continuous…
Felt okay, but the legs were feeling somewhat lethiferous,
So, I wound up the trouser legs, oh, the fuss…
What a change to earlier ones, more flush,
Still swollen, at the top, but fatter lower down?
Will the fluid flow with a gush?
Will things spurt in a rush?
Will the legs turn to a sodden mush?
Will the world, these limbs discuss?
Will the cause be revealed, as dracunculus?
Look what I found in the middle of the kitchen floor!
A rock hard escapee garden pea, what is more…
The miracle is, how I hadn’t noticed it before?
Has my eyesight, really got that poor?
Am I going potty? I’m not sure…
Camera Out – Balcony Utilised!
To take some snaps of the wonderful view.
The amazing sky, shown in the first two…
In a couple of shots of Chestnut walk, you won’t see any queue,
The place is sparse of people. what can I do?
Are they all inside, eating sausages, fish or making a fondue?
Mayhap some are trying on their Christmas tutu?
Or on holiday in Bulwell, Cardiff or Timbuktu?
Perhaps absent, gone off on a romantic rendezvous?
It’s possible a few could be feeling sozzled or blue?
Out buying food, but the panic buyers are in the queue?
Or in town, with their free bus passes to renew?
I’d speculate more; if only I knew…
Where they have all gone, what are they up to?
Ah, gorrit! Christmas! They’ll be making their homebrew!
Well, I’d better get some food – salad or a stew?
No, vegetarian sausages and root potatoes… that’ll do,
I’ll take a photo of it later, just for you to have a peekaboo!
Vegetarian! Royal grown potatoes, root vegetable mash, tomatoes, Nigerian podded peas, Veggie sausages, cheese and bean pastie, with orange jelly and spray cream for dessert!
Taste Rating: 7.9/10 – Delicious!
Part of ‘The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme’
To all my thousands of fans throughout the world, I wish you all good fortune, fun, festivities, euphoria and future financial prosperity! (To both of you!)
I woke up; well, I got that bit right; here’s a tidbit…
No leaks from Little Inchy, nor bleeding too…
I actually thought waking up deserved a plaudit,
Checked the overly stomached body, legs two…
Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley twitching at my body audit,
The bruise on the knee had turned from red to blue,
Down the Protection Pants; crumbs from a biscuit!
Nocturnal nibbling guilt did ensue…
Then working out what day, month and what time is it?
The innards erupted, wind escaped from the rear. Ooh!
A massive dump I was about to inherit…
Probably due to last nights far-to-large bowl of chilli stew?
A visit to the Porcelain Throne was urgently due…
It was agony, messy, bloody, and massive, I can tell you!!
The Social Worker asked if I’d like to take up embroidery?
Is she serious, or is this tomfoolery?
Last month when she called to see me dress,
It was like a shockumentary!
She saw me struggling to dress and making a mess…
Getting my socks on buffoonery!
Putting the trousers on was full of stress,
I fell over; that did not impress!
Then saw my arm shaking as I shaved; it was bloody!
Viewed the sock-glide battle, which always causes me distress…
Now she thinks I can thread a needle?
Good God, I struggle to get Little Inchy out for a piddle!
I try to avoid getting the reputation as a badass,
Like I did when I was drinking from a beer glass,
I’ve a new reputation now, well two, one as a tight ass…
The other, rather unfairly as a wiseass!
I just get myself down on my palliasse,
Pass involuntary wind from my flatulent ass…
Sorry about sounding a bit crass…
And wonder what the hell I’ve done with my bus pass?
The last time I went to town it went all askew!
I got soaked waiting at the wrong bus stop, for a No22
Not been out for weeks, a hobble is long overdue,
Finding the bus pass might be an issue…
And remembering where the bus goes to…
What times it runs, get on the right one, first go the loo!
Walking: more painful now than doing jujitsu,
Get some food, veg, fruit… a melon, honeydew?
For the toilet, disinfectant and a Brobat blue,
The bank, my cards ready for a renew…
Oh, Inchcock, you silly old Moo!
Going out today you can’t do…
DWP will be calling to give me an interview…
That’ll be a confusing hullabaloo!
A few close shaves, but no disgruntled attitude,
Made beefburger, broke my tooth when I chewed,
Then dropped the mug when I brewed…
Onward I pressed and continued…
Time for the Porcelain Throne to be used…
I didn’t make it in time, now I’m really screwed!
Talk about being embarrassed – more disgruntlement,
Cleaned, washed, refreshed, out to the apartment…
A letter here, there’s an increase in rent!
Time to get lively, a shake-it-out session to augment…
Or just go deeper, into unhingement?
Sanity is something that does not come readily… Insanity, now that comes easily to me, for free! It wasn’t a good start to life for newborn Inchy, The poor little mite had a nasty squinzey… Handed Inchy over to her, by the midwife, Elsie, Inchcock, her newborn less than 3lb baby…
A Verse from Inchcock’s Alto Ego
His Ma said: I Don’t want it, throw it in the Trent! When he heard of this, years later, t’was a rent! No wonder the lad grew up, a smidge belligerent! And always felt unwanted, unloved, different… Had he known the misery coming in a torrent… He’d have settled for drowning in the river current!
Back To The Real Inchcock’s Odeing
My lack of schooling stunted my working activity, Thus starting my wander into psychoactivity? I was determined to actively maintain my morality, Improving myself, was the task of great enormity, Things went wrong, and life ended up a bit shitty!
I proudly continued to work hard, showing my stupidity, Made redundant four times, and then the insanity… Duodenal Ulcer, Reflux Roger, Heart attack, hit me, Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades, deafness you see, Then the stroke – medical problems constantly… The fungal lesion, piles, problem in the lower-region vicinity, But, did it bother me? Nae, nor even the poverty, Press on blindly, bumbling, fumbling along, is the key!
I had to show faith, belief and positivity! The body was getting a bashing, feeling rickety! The memory, well, short-term, almost hilarity, Is there any help? A bonkersness charity?
Control, concentration, became a travesty! Sometimes I can control my passivity… But worryingly, is my current oversensitivity, During the day, I can feel quite jaunty… Then sink, thinking self-pity, But without any clarity? The mind working somehow in duality?
Of wants, needs and desires, there’s a deficiency, Simple tasks grow in perplexity… Depressions show ever more confusion, density, I fail to attain the slightest moments of tranquillity, Thought Storm rage, wee-wees show violent fluidity,
For Porcelain Throne sessions, I’ve grown an affinity! I know; this is something of an abnormality… I suppose, all a part of my growing mental-duality! Depression, anxiety, am I becoming a dilettante?
I intended today, to try and stop being so whiney, She just kicked off again; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I just rubbed in a dollop of Phorpain gel – gently!
There is something I await, pretty eagerly… Summat I have to do bi-quarterly… Even though I’m now quite elderly… Inject Enoxaprin into my tummy.
Well, that was nice, two injections into one dummy,
I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!
Oh, I forgot about going to the clinic, neurology,
Is there a department called Forgettology?
Where they can mend a wayward memory?
A shame I’ve got this mental and physical instability!
I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!
I’m off to get my bus pass, after making a mug of tea!
Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,
And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,
They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,
With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?
Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!
An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!
The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…
Things were going well, all seemed alreet,
Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,
I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!
The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!
T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!
We couldn’t understand what each other said,
So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,
His English was better than my Afghanistani,
But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…
He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!
I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…
Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,
Then had to get them into the lobby,
Then into the flats lobby,
Then into the flat,
Then the hallway…
Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!
Next, the swearing started, I have to say!
The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!
The baguette buggered, utter dismay!
Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!
Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!
Got the salvaged food sorted,
I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!
The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!
I was feeling despondent, to say the least!
Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!
Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!
I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and Obergruppenfürher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.
As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?
An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly £11 for something that has been sent to me?
He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.
The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.
I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.
Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!
I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.
Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.
Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!
Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.
Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.
Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…
Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!
I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.
I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!
I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.
Boy, did I feel a fool!
I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.
Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!
I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.
The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.
The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.
The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!
My Luck Changed!
I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.
I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.
It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.
I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!
Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.
I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.
While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?
Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.
Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.
00:00hrs: Considering the truly low and depressed mood I found myself in last night, as I stirred into semi-life, I was suddenly aware that the gloom and doom tormenting my brain was gone, disappeared, no longer there! I found this rather flummoxing.
I was baffled as to why? Nothing had changed from yesterday. Had I been dreaming, and that may have had some effect in cheering me up? Was it the bang on the head when I took my tumble that brought it on in the first place? Hello, I’d better get up; I don’t want to encourage any Thought Storms! I need a wee-wee anyway.
I freed my overweight, flobby-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner with absolute ease – until I got the weight on the knees! Argh! Cathy Cartilage on the right knee, and Arthur Itis on the left one, were both so painful and in a bad mood with me this morning. The few hurtful paces to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) indicated that this will be a less-than-easy hobbling about Saturday.
I fumbled about to get Little Inchie out and realised as I did so, the NWWB was over half full? Why does this happen so often? I must have made many trips to release this much wee-wee overnight? Yet I cannot recall getting up at all to do so? The pain I must have got from Arthur and Cathy getting out of the recliner so often, I’d have thought I would have been made me aware of what I was doing? My mind was soon cleared of this question, as the embarrassment of a somewhat significant amount of PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) escaped into the half down PPs. By bottom-lip protruded, and after finishing, I took the bucket to the wet room for emptying and sanitising and got a clean-up and got a new pair of PPs on.
It’s time and incidents like this that really bring it home to one; the body is doing its own thing, the brain’s logicality loses its way, the memory is fading fast and now avoiding most of its retention powers. The bones, joints, and ticker etc., are crumbling without mercy. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain, does yer!
I got the kettle on to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and it sounded like someone had just turned the volume up on the ‘World-Wide-Hum’; Gawd, it was loud! And the heaters were not working again? Worra, life! But I imagine that there are many people in the complex in this position, not that it cures anything, but, at least, I am still aware of my senility is en route. I worry for the future, though. Blooming cold in here again! Weekend, of course, so no one to help me out with getting the heaters also going correctly.
Had another wee-wee of the IRPT (Indefatigably-Relentless-Painful-Trickling) mode.
I took the morning medications, then got the Health Checks done. The temperature was alright this morning; it seems to be getting steadier now. Of course, I shouldn’t have said that; it was silly of me! 36.7°c – 98.06°f. It was in the green, so it should be acceptable.
The Boot’s sphygmomanometer readings were decent, methinks. SYS 150, DIA 71, and the Pulse was at 84 bpm. As I was taking this, a headache came on suddenly, sharp to the right side of the head – then a minute later, it was gone?
Microsoft Office allowed me access to Excel to update the Health Checks listing figures.
Do you see that? Three, in-the-green temperatures on the trot there! Much better than earlier in the week.
I had another wee-wee, surprisingly, of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style. Then made a start on the updating of the Friday Diary. Sorted the photographs out first, then got the scripting done. The ailments of concern were just two; Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters letting me down a few tines, and of course the SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) in support, but a lot less bothersome than she was yesterday. I perseverated and got it finished but had to have four wee-wees during the three hours of writing and correcting—all of the SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy). I’m getting variety today, at least. Haha!
As I put the kettle on in the cold, shiver-giving kitchen (Heater still not working), I had to nip off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What going on here! Constipation Konrad seems to be fighting back? Heck of a job to get things moving, and it was gooey yet solid? The toilet rolls will have to be ordered today; if I can get a slot for an A.M. delivery. A good clean up, and pleasingly, the evacuated produce was cleared with just two flushes!
I had a wash-up and had another wee-wee, this time of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode. Another washing of the dandies, and back to the computer.
I Pinterested some snaps, Emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Spent a long time on that. Two WordPress comments had come in, which I replied to. Then I visited the WordPress Reader Section. I had another wee-wee of the PSS (Persistent, Short, Sharp) mode… I think we can assume that every half-hour or so throughout the day, I needed and took a wee-wee; it’ll save me a lot of typing. Tsk! Then:
I went onto the Sainsbury site to see what slots were attainable. I got a slot for Tuesday 16th @ 8>9a.m. Do you know, I made a mistake and ordered some Fresh Cream French Horns.
Brekkers sorted out. And from here on, it is hit and misses, memory-wise, very patchy. Sorry.
Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so good, perplexed, and tired out.
I had a weariness-attack, and I just turned off the computer and sat down on the recliner for many hours, watching some banal crap on the TV, but I couldn’t understand why. Doing nothing but grow fat by nibbling biscuits, crisps, ice-cream as well, I think?
The need for the Porcelain Throne then forced me to get up. I ached all over, was coughing and sneezing and felt under the weather, and confused. For some reason, I found out in the morning, I’d not cleaned up the wet room, Eurgh!
I actually made some more fodder! (I found this photo on the SD card). But can I remember making or eating it? No!
But I did find most of it in the bin later on in the night.
Along with this photo, taken through the balcony dividing glass? Not sure what, if anything, went on after that.
Mind you, Sunday morning, I did discover this snap on the camera-card. Also, that the fodder things were left loose in the sink bowel?
I’m sure that I sat down again, incapable of logical thought, and once more, spent hours just sat there, looking at the turned-off TV and fighting-off Thought-Storm-Thaddeus, but only half-heartedly. I think I was so down; I actually just accepted the self-criticisms, fears, worries etc., as a natural leveller, and a prevailing punishment, and part of my growing mental decrepitude.
The thought of having another banal Sunday to get through tomorrow was soul-destroying.
01:05hrs: As I stirred, and recognised the need to visit the Porcelain Throne with some haste, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked of with one of her more virulent attacks. Thus getting my generously-sized over-stomached torso from the second-hand, c1968, recliner without injury, was no easy task. However, I did adopt a Smug-Mode on getting up and catching my balance, then made for the wet room. After knocking the bottle of spring water off of the ottoman.
It was an even messier session this morning. But at least it felt like Trotsky Terence might be losing his totalitarian grip on the innards. I say this because there were no immediate escapages as I sat down, things took a while to progress, gurglingly building up, or down, to the rear escape hatch. I even had a go at the crossword puzzles! And, (Smug-Mode-Engaged), I got the last two clues on one of the puzzles! I think I’ll upgrade that to Smug-Mode-Grade-Two-level! However, the evacuated product was super-gluey and gooey!
Cleaning myself and the pottery, and refilling several times of the water tank to free things up, took a ridiculous amount of time!
I had a wash-up, and I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, in the slightly larger China mug that Jenny had donated to me. At long last, a mug of tea actually began to taste like it used to before the first suicidal-seeking, ill-making, side-effect-ridden, AstraZeneca vaccine was given me, nine-days ago! Finally! It was a nice, different feeling!
I ventured out into the balcony, sillily not being aware of how cold it was out there, I opened one window to take an ahead shot of the view. Then the end window to get a photograph to the left-hand side of Sherwood. Brrr!
I got the Health Checks tackled. Starting with the made in Hong Kong, reliable contactless thermometer. Which proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f. The temperature has not been this low since last Thursday. 👍
The SYS was up a couple of points, but it’s been a lot worse. And the PULSE was down to 87 from 94, so all in all, taking everything into account, overall, the Health Check’s results were doing betterer today! All part of the Inchcock feeling betterer mode, methinks.
I put some fresh potatoes left-over, into the crock-pot, and added an Oxo Vegetable seasoning cube, and got it on a low setting, so there would be no chance (He says!) of any overspilling and making another mess for me to clean-up. Then, I got the computer on to start the updating of yesterdays blog.
Apart from SSS, the other ailments were not too bad this morning. And, I was getting my taste-buds to work again! Not to mention having had no bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion for days now! I think a trace of contentment, even satisfaction was creeping into my life! A strange, unaccustomed, experience for me! Will I be able to cope with it, without losing my grip? I’d got the new thermal woolly hat on to keep warm! The toothache was bad at all! Life seems so unnatural, anomalous, frighteningly different today? Could this be a belated AstraZeneca vaccine effect? Most likely it’s joy at ridding myself of them?
The dang World-Wide-Hum was getting louder again. And Duodenal Donald was stabbing at me a little… with the odd bit of back-up and support from Anne Gyna… but these things are normal, and help me cope with any good luck or health that might possibly wangle their way into my life.
– Ah, this is more like my fortunes; The Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media just went down again! Thank you, Mike Fries. But you could and have done much better, as you have in the past – this outage only lasted a couple of minutes, and came back online of its own accord. I hope you are not poorly?
I pressed on and got the Monday blog all finished, and sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and read and replied to some email comments.
Made a brew of Glengettie Gold. Had a horrendously leaky wee-wee, and washed then cleaned and sanitised the grey bucket. Visited the WP Reader Section, some great posts on there today. Then went on Facebooking catch-up.
Next, I visited the AstraZeneca site.
Astra Zeneca Vaccine: Possible side effects:
I made the effects I’d had in red!
Like all medicines, this vaccine can cause side effects, although not everybody gets them. In clinical studies with the vaccine, most side effects were mild to moderate in nature and resolved within a few days with some still present a week after vaccination.
If side effects such as pain and/or fever are troublesome, medicines containing paracetamol can be taken. Side effects that occurred during clinical trials with COVID-19 Vaccine AstraZeneca were as follows:
Very Common (may affect more than 5 in 10 people): Tenderness, pain, warmth, itching, bruising where the injection is given generally feeling unwell feeling tired (fatigue) chills or feeling feverish headache feeling sick (nausea) joint pain or muscle ache
Common (may affect up to 2 in 10 people): swelling, redness or a lump at the injection site fever being sick (vomiting) diarrhoea flu-like symptoms, such as high temperature, sore throat, runny nose, cough and chills
Uncommon (may affect up to 1 in 100 people): feeling dizzy decreased appetite abdominal pain enlarged lymph nodes (Don’t what this is?) excessive sweating, itchy skin or rash.
I still fear what the second booster vaccine will bring for me!
Time to get the ablutions tackled, just in case the Iceland order arrives early! It has been known, you know. It was last October if I remember correctly.
As usual, I got side-tracked and ended up sorting the handwashing out first. Then, off to the wet-room.
I noticed some blotches as I was taking off the wristwear.
Teeth-cleaning was a little more painful this morning, the cracked molars are beginning to disintegrate now. Four dropsies.
The nasal clearing went well, no dropsies. But the highlight was the shaving session, Oh, Yes! Not a single cut or nick! Only, three dropsies! The stand-up wash had a few more dropsies, mind, but otherwise went smoothly! Smug-Mode-Grade-2-readopted!
Dressed and freshened up, I returned to the computer. While I was in the wet room an email from Iceland had arrived, regarding Changes to my Order!
Does this list on the right, make full sense to you? Or is it me, getting confused?
The intercom rang out, and I admitted the Iceland delivery gentleman. Same man as called last week, a decent sort of chap. As I went to open the door, there were three letters delivered. I don’t like getting letters, especially official-looking ones like these were! I’ll have decker at them later.
The young man placed the bags in the doorway for me. Including the box of Surf with tropical lily and ylang-ylang, 130 wash size. I think I made a blunder in ordering this size. Hehehe!
I moved the delivery into the kitchen and made a start in storing the stuff away. As you can see, I got rather a lot of stuff today.
I’d half-expected Iceland to be out of the Milk Roll bread, so I’d ordered some wholemeal cobs and bread thins as well. A packet of boil-in-the-bag kipper with butter, that I plan to make this evenings meal of. Some egg mayonnaise, miniature pork & pickle pies, stocked up with the OXO seasonings, beef and vegetable. A bag of Wilkinson’s twin razors, that I hope will not be as lethal as the Bic brand ones were. Some cheapo trifles. Frozen Strawberry & Vanilla cones, and /sour ice-lollies as a further treat! Two cans of Batchelor’s potatoes. Iceland chilli-chicken fillets, chicken with stuffing slices. Lemon whirls, washing-up liquid and two bottles of white bleach. Some cans as treats. Two bottles of spring water, and some cheapo kitchen rolls.
By gum, I live well!
But getting room made in the freezer was as hard as ever, but I got them all in. Squashed a few cones doing it mind, Hehe!
Then, getting everything in the fridge was tackled. Not an easy job, so many dropsies and damaged good in the process.
I seem to have a lot of butter in stock. I’d also ordered some ‘I can’t believe its not butter?’ Obviously for a specific reason, but I’m blown if I can remember why! Tsk!
I may have to eat the kippers later on though; because a lot of the cooked meats have short ‘Use-By-Dates’ on them.
After I shut the door, the fridge started making rather-loud running noises?
I got the household items stored away… under the sink is looking cramped for space as well now.
And the Porcelain Throne is getting less visible too, surrounded by multiple various types of cleaning products. Ah, well!
I’ll not starve! I might eat too much, on the other hand. Haha!
All put away, I set about investigating the three letters! It seems I will be paying more tax after 5th April? Claw back-time after Covid?
The bank – We are reducing the interest rate on your savings account! Claw back-time after Covid? Not that this bothers at all, I’ve only got, as you can see, just over £1 in the account! La,la,la, la, la, la!
The final letter was from the Haemostasis DVT Thrombosis Service Anticoagulation, Warfarin Clinic.
A load of waffle really. Saying how they are doing their best, and giving numbers to ring if we need help.
Ah, well! I’ll check on the potatoes progress. All ready for serving up. But the early weariness arrived at the same time, a shame that!
I served my nosh up, on Josie’s p[late and tray. Pork misshapes, tomatoes, red onions, crispy bacon, egg mayonnaise, and the last of the small potatoes, which were the highlight of the plate. Flavour-Rating: 705/10!
I went into a vagueness-mode when I got settled to eat this nosh. I remembered the two, half-hour Tales of the unexpected were coming on channel 11 on the TV. I even stayed awake long enough to catch the start of the first episode.
After waking up half-an-hour later as the second one was showing, the need for the Porcelain Throne prevented my viewing it. Tsk! Off to the wet room, I trudged…
Crackling-Crackers! Did I crack the shoulder on the wet room door on the way in… Yes! It hurt a smidge. Hehe! The evacuation was far less messy, but the brown and red colouring was the same. I think the Diarrhoea capsules might be winning the battle at last. I’ll see how it goes in the morning, before taking another one yet.
Back to the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, just in time to miss the Tales of the unexpected episode altogether. Gragnangles!
Yet again sleep was slow in arriving, the constant waking-ups didn’t help.