Inchcock Today Diary with Ode, Wednesday 8th June 2022:

Wednesday 8th June 2022

Good Morningski!

ODE TO START THE DAY

I believe I mentioned last week that the End was Nigh?
Putin’s not bothered about the world but keeps his eye…
On the Chinese, Americans and the FBI…
It is saveable? If so, how, when, by whom, and why?
If it is rescued, and I’m alive, I’ll slap my thigh…
But my hopes are not too high!

What are nations doing about Putin, the Cow?
Britain protested to the UN with a catty meow…
President Biden very nearly raised his left eyebrow…
Xi Jinping thinks the Ukraine war’s just a sideshow?
France stopped Russian imports, pickles and marrow!
Sweden is worried about dwindling numbers of sparrows…
No comment from rain-starved New Mexico…
Germanys Steinmeie, has gone off a furlough?
Inchie on the Porcelain Throne… had a follow-through!.

Odes that matter are not easy to write – So I wrote this one!

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WEDNESDAY

0045hrs: I don’t know how I did it, but I’d worked through the night on blogging. It is now 04:00hrs, and I will try to get some sleep. The carer can wake me when they arrive. As soon as they are gone, I must get the ablutions done. Too early now cause of making a noise with the shower. Then get some sleep!

That didn’t last long! I’ve now been up for 22hours. For nearly an hour! Humph! Will I ever get some sleep! I got down in the recliner and drifted to sleep without any bother…

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out! Carer Richard arrived, a little concerned, when he looked at me. Apparently, I was pasty-looking and shaking. I told him I was just tired and why. Inquired about how his Diabetes course went. Alright, the lad said, which told me it wasn’t at all. Again he couldn’t stay too long; he had more calls to do. Gave I’m some treats, and he was off like an arrow from Robin Hood’s bow. Haha! I’d not yet got the computer going and thought it best if I got myself a good shower and shave first. A freshening up should sort me out. Then I can get some sleep… surely?

I made a right and proper mess of shaving duties today. The neck (3), earhole (1) and chin (2) all had a pretty cut or two by the time I’d finished. The Peripheral Pete’s shakes were very minor but still cut me. Showered without any nasty or painful injuries worth mentioning.

Although the regulation toe-stubbing took place as I started to do the next job. Midway through the rear-end Germoloiding, the landline burst forth…

I snapped the end car parkers as I checked the windows. Then gathered the blood pressure equipment needed for the readings to be discovered. This was when I realised I was still in the nude!!! Argh!.

Well, very nearly, that’ll do for me, I fank you! The results for the SYS 142. DIA 67 and the Pulse at 77 bpm were all in range.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was playing up a little, not wanting to work? Still, I got it on the third try.

I got the clothes nearby for after the ablutioning, stripped, shuddered at my reflection n the shiny kettle, and went into the wet room… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out again! It was Warden  Deana to do a wrist alarm battery check. I hope I’d put on some clothing before answering the door! But Dementia Doreen forbade me from recollecting when writing this bit of the blog many hours later.

Back to the wet room and got on with tasks of scrubbing up, teggies, shaving and a good shower. The ankles were not too good; they have been worse.

A struggle to get there before they rang off. I hoped it might be QMC hospital’s EENT about an appointment to get the cataract done… but no! It was a cold-caller whom I could not understand what she was saying. I rang-off.

I really must try to get some sleep again. But no! Esther rang and came in; I just got the pants on in time! It’s nearly noon, and I’ve seemed to have been getting delayed, sidetracked and discovered a plot to stop me from sleeping. Hehehe! And I have not even started on the blog yet!

Esther kindly brought some cord and rethreaded the jammie bottoms that had lost their own string. Bless her. She still talks to me from the other room. Har-Har!

I made a start on the Odeing for this blog. I’m so far behind again and getting self-irked about it! Another long day then; Gawd knows when I’ll get the job done. Interruptions all the time, or ailments delaying me – SLEEP – PLEASE!

I’ve got to get some kip so I can recharge to get this blog done… Around in circles, that’s me! Still, I foolishly thought, at least I’ve made a start on the Ode… Humph!

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was Esther coming back. She’d been to do it for a new client, and their vacuum had broken down, and she asked me if she could use mine. I realised the Hoover was already at the front door, so yes, no problem.

Surely now, I can get the Ode at least done? I checked on what I could have for my nosh, which looked like being eaten again in the early morning hours. With all the faffing about that’s going on. I made a brew of Thompson’s Signature tea and took a small cake from the fridge.

Back to the Ode writing, and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out yet again! It was the postman. One of them was kind enough to press the buzzer when he delivered; it helped. The letter was from Nottingham City Homes, Asset Management Team, and Emma Brown. Telling us about an upgrade to the electrical fuse-boards. There will be interruptions to TV signals and laundry rooms. So, that told me two things. One; reason that the workers did not answer my cheery good morning the other day – Because it is an independent company (ECS) doing the work. And number two, now I know why I lost the TV signal thrice last week. Finally, I was making progress with the Odeing. Mind you, it was 16:00hrs by then. Keeping my concentration pretty well…

Esther returned again. To bring the vacuum back and thanked me for loaning it to her. No, bother, Esther, I said. Each week when she arrives, she takes out the plug on a towel airer to use it to recharge her mobile phone. And never puts the power back on… just a thought, like.

Carer Valerie arrived to sort the medications. Took the waste bag out with her. Boy, is it getting late now! Gragnangles! Definitely going to be another 24hr day.

Absolutely gorgeous clouds this evening. pareidoliaised, at my leisure, finding three figures in these beautiful clouds. An animal’s mouth and jaw, a tongue sticking out of a mouth and what looks like an iceberg to me. When I returned, not exactly full of fervour, to carry on with the blog, a weird happening happened to happen. Happenstance, one might say?

I saw dozens of seagulls flying left the right at about the same level, four or five times, through the balcony windows!

I hastened to get the Canon in hopes of getting photographs of the birds; they sometimes came close to the windows.

I sat in the recliner to have a drink of spring water, a nibble of some potato sticks, and, most importantly, to relax for a few minutes. But, No! As I got the camera turned on, the flock broke up and was long gone! Tsk! Then, something caught my eye that I’d not noticed before…

On the wall, where the electricians left a pretend made patching up job of the power-point they had knocked off of the wall, the uneven imitation plastering was showing me an ambiguous visual pattern. Hewn in the lumpy rough plastering.

I shan’t say what I can perceive in it, but I would love to know if you can visualise anything in it? Or is it just me and what?

Got ready to try and get some blogging done. And once more, the ♫ Oh Susana ♫ tone rang out from the door chime.

It was the pens being delivered. I tried them straight away. It said in the advert that they both had darker black inks and smoother, softer writing nibs. Brilliant! Best Biro’s I’ve ever used, and I can see the writing better now too.

I  titivated the Tuesday Diary, and I got that sent off. I know you are thinking, why has the dumbo not done this yet? Am I write? Erm… Right? Ask Doreen about Dementia? Hehe! I’d got myself into a pickle again mentally.

I made up some spring water bottles, added a drop of orange or lime cordial to each one, and put them on the ottoman’s tray. Also, fill a pot with some potato chip nibbles for later.

I took these close-up too the kitchenette window shots of pattering down rain. That came on quickly; the sunshine was blasting through the curtains a few seconds ago. (They are a bit thin!)

Carer Valerie arrived and got the medications sorted out. We even managed a little chinwagging tonight!

I got the nosh sorted out. I’m afraid it was not one of the more successful or tasty meals I’ve ever made or eaten. Not by a long chalk! The Morrison’s potatoes letters made sure of that. They were abysmally tasteless! The cheese & onions pasties were not too bad. The peas and mushrooms left over from yesterday were passable. The pot of strawberry cheesecake was nice. Overall, a dismal 5.5/10 Flavour rating!

Well, that was better. Almost solid this time. But I’ll not get too excited.

Into the kitchen to get some of the marvellous tasting No-Moo brand ice cream to nibble.

The view from the window was most impressive. Although it was not bright or vivid, the hues and shades were, to me, anyway, reminiscent of oil paintings. Which started me off thinking about how amazing Mother Nature can be… and I forgot to get the ice cream from the fridge for my evening snack. Grobbleturds!

Washed the pots, had a rare wee-wee, not that much sprinkled painfully out. Then I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, uncomfy, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner.

And to my satisfaction and pleasure, I fell asleep within seconds!

Only to shoot awake with a jump a couple of minutes later! Grumblecronknackers! Graptitties! Schluberdubers! Globblegripes! and Grangleboggleisations! Naturally, the sudden awakenings continued for hours! Varying twixt after two minutes and ten!

Not All Sleep Is Restorative
By Raj Dasgupta, MD

Experts continue to study the sleep process, but they’ve found evidence to suggest your body & brain perform a lot during sleep, including muscle repair, protein synthesis, & tissue growth.

Oh, Good!

I got up and went back to blogging – Humph!

Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock: Thurs-Fri 2-3rd June 2022

Manic Morning Ode

I think of odd things, many sorts, some ulteriorly…
Some thoughts are of electrical technicality…
The TV stopped working, the DVD too…
The computer does its own thing, getting me into a stew,
The help pamphlet is all written metrically,
But I was educated in inches and things imperially!

I write thoughts in an ode, mostly inferiorly…
Cause my sleeping is now all somnambulistically,
I went to the Porcelain Throne, and it came out like gooey glue!
Concentration is hard, lack of kip I rue…
But making these crap odes, I still pursue,
I don’t think I love owt else I do…

But dreams and hopes, I had a few…
Into the ether, they all got threw,
Oh, dearie me, Throne time again, stinkaroo!
What does the future hold? Do I want a preview?
Whatever, if any, will not hold any bijou…
I know! I’ll give myself a sanity interview?

Thursday 2nd June 2022

From my scribbled notes: 30% of which I couldn’t decipher or guesstimated.

04:40hrs: I gave up trying to stay asleep; the jumping awakes were endless again! Rose for a wee-wee. (Unreadable) Something to do with the Canon camera?

Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons Signature tea.

Very tasty! Took a photo from the kitchen window, through the glass.

Took another photo of the view using the flash. I can’t remember why; maybe I could have been testing to see if the flash worked? I’ve still not remembered what the original fault was? I used the Fuji after this. So whatever it was (I’ll remember soon) had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)

The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.

Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.

A lot of squashed up scribbling on the notepad here. Tea, view (but I can’t find any photos of it?). Bogging, hard work, errors, mistakes… Finished blog, sent off, emailed link, Pinterested and Facebooking.

Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.

Ah, this I can… the swine!

It’s an exciting bit of writing here… Best I can make out; what it says is: Blu snaps Herb? WP Reader…

Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.

The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.

When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway.

Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.

Hehehe! I felt a little sorry for him, really.

I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.

Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.

I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated.

I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and both started being noisy in the extreme… but I think I welcomed it. I managed as blank a mind as must be possible. Still, the overriding view of acceptance, nothing to be done, lingered... I noted the time, 21:00hrs, as I tried to get some shut-eye. At 21:03hrs, the Thought Storms with apparently recharged batteries kicked off!

Sweet Morpheus didn’t stand a chance. I lay there fighting, talking to, and cursing the self-nit-picking, derogatory Thought Storms. Never had them as bad, and in the end, I got up around three o’clock for a most unwilling wee-wee, and again I suffered from the. Now I was feeling somewhat fed up in the extreme! So, I went through to put the kettle on… Continued below!

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Friday 3rd June 2022

As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!

I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.

This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down.

I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.

The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
But have often hurt me much more,
I must stop moaning anymore.
I can’t put it any blunter,
Accept things, as said thereinbefore
It’s the only way to perdure!

I spent many hours on the computer, updating blogs, correcting cock-ups, and eventually getting the blog done and posted. Then, Pinteresting, WP reading, and WordPress Comment making.

T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.

Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no!

When Mr Fries managed to get a signal back, I spent many hours doing the top Ode for this blog and updating it. I was doing well… until…

The smoke & mirrors man, the fiddler of figures, and incapable of running an internet service without losing the signal, Mr Fries, the Mafia looking character, fails again! Humph!

While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging for it, internet supply?

So, I took more photographs while waiting for Fries, the £23m salaried boss, to get the Liberty-Global signal again.

Only one vehicle was parked, snuggly on the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).

The front car park opposite my beloved Woodthorpe Court.

The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.

Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…

Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.

Not many folks out there; I suppose they are watching the ER celebrations for the Queens?

The Queen was praised for “staying the course” as royals joined dignitaries at a thanksgiving service for the Platinum Jubilee at St Paul’s Cathedral. Referring to her love of horse racing, Archbishop of York Stephen Cottrell said she is “still in the saddle”, even though she could not attend. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex joined for their first royal event together since leaving the UK two years ago. Meanwhile, the Queen, 96, watched the service from Windsor Castle.

Well, the Royal Family members all look happy, don’t they? Charles has waiting so long to get the Throne I don’t think he’s up to it anymore. Hehehe!

I got some spuds boiling to make cheesy mash with.

Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…

Got the meal prepared and served up. Cheesy topped halved boiled potatoes, baked off to crisp the red Leicester cheese. Veggie sausages, baked beans with Henderson’s relish added, wholemeal cobs, tomatoes, and a banana.

Halfway through it and watching a Heartbeat episode on the box, I was in my element. The evening carer arrived. Chloe, nice gal. Got the meds sorted and had a little natter. She took the waste bag with her to the shoot for me. I locked the door and got back to finishing the not so hot meal. Dementia Doreen and number-cruncher Liberty Global’s Mr Fries are to blame for confusing me as to what time it was. Hehehe!

With its pink-tinged coloured streaky clouds, the sky looked absolutely amazing to me tonight. No doubt that Mother Nature is a beautiful beast! I can’t recall being so interested in the skies all my life.

We need to start straight away protecting this planet. We’ve polluted it uncaringly, not a thought for the future generations… if there is to be any. And all for gain and personal profit. So shadow-benders and number-crunchers like Mr Fries can earn $23 million a year, and Putin can do a Hitler in attacking other countries! Nowadays, he is doing it risk-free. No Americans to save the day for Ukraine, like they did for the UK, France, Poland etc., sad.

Got down in the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner on a mission to get some sleep. Huh! Well, I did, but it was hours later!

END OF THE WORLD THOUGHTS in Ode…

All tellurians have something in common – caducity!
Humans have greed, jealousy, egocentricity & abstrucity,
The majority get cheered from money, not true felicity…
They destroy the planet with great feracity…
Believe me, mankind has this ability, fruitfully…
To gain their lucre, they’ll use violence and feracity…
Every one of our nation’s leaders leads with lubricity!
I suppose this Ode reads with a certain mordacity?
So, let’s save the earth with haste and pertinacity!

Inchcocks Tuesday 1st June 2022 – With Ode

Inchies Ode to Failed Wishes

I wanted Mummy to love me for sure…
But crime had caused her departure…
Police caught her in a cottage on the river Nure,
But that was years later, not really a cure…

I wanted to become a competent swimmer…
But I soon discovered that I was scared of water,
I soon got Inchcock as a new nomenclature…
I fought to get into the footy team, the agony I did endure…
But I was useless; I even thought of becoming a friar!

Things were depressing and getting dire…
Then we had a nasty frying pan fire…
Left me scalded, but to the pain, I am no stranger,
The most used word to me was Shurrup! I was a chinwagger…
I once poked myself in the eye with a penny banger!

I try dancing, the Twist and the Conger…
Of course, I can’t do them any longer…
In those days, I was younger and stronger,
And, I was earning some serious wonga,
All of which I’ve spent and have no longer…

Nowadays, my life is a little austerer…
To socialisationing, I’ve become a sightseer,
My ailments often mean that I feel a bit queer…
So when someone relates to me, I hold it dear…
But folks generally keep away, don’t come near!

I became a Headway volunteer…
Tried to give the patients a little cheer
We’d share Monopoly, darts and the odd root beer…
I’ve never been any kind of profiteer…
Eventually, they said I was becoming battier…

Why? was it some form of solastalgia?
I found out it was due to Peripheral Neuralgia,
I was definitely getting a little crochetier…
And my body was getting heftier… fatter,
I decided that this didn’t matter…

With my self-hatred, I felt evermore guiltier…
My calling myself names got much nastier,
If I just accept things, maybe life may come easier…
I even went to speak with the local vicar…
He touched what he shouldn’t. I’m now a nonbeliever!

I still press on, getting wobblier and clumsier,
To avoid depression, I tried to keep myself busier,
Each day I get crappier, creepier, and dizzier…
Even the carers think that I’m getting barmier!
I admit I’m getting poorlier, older and bolshier!

There’s no denying that I’m getting more Clishmaclaver…
Numbers, figures calculation I can no longer figure,
I muse over my fear, praying there may be a cure…
Against the darkness of gloom, I cannot enure!

Even talking to myself, I’m getting more spitefuller…
I can’t reason things sometimes; that makes me mardier…
And my body is aching so, and getting lardier…
My wee-weeing is more frequent and dribblier,
My Haemorrhoids are bloodier and much itchier!

The short term memory is confused, vaguer, muddier…
And used to be such an excellent rememberer!
At this moment, I don’t know if it’s March or September?
Have I put the oven on yet? I’ll have a gander…
No, I’ve not; what else have I missed on my agenda?
Well, I left the hot tap on… frustration and anger!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Diary Tuesday 1st June 2022

  After perhaps twenty jump-awakes, I gave up on the 21st or so and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee at 04:10hrs. Grumph!

The leak was free of Pre and After Micturitional Dribbling. Well, that was something! It sort of got me in an up mood.

I trotted off to the wet room to empty and sanitize the wee-wee bucket, and I got the Ablutions done while I was in there. There was only one tiny nick shaving and two dropsies, none of which caused any bother. A good session as well this time.

Got the Blood Pressure and Temperature sorted out. Despite the lousy night’s limited sleep and unending damned shooting awake, I was not in a bad mood, with a jump almost! They are getting worse each night?

SIA 136. DIA 71 and the Pulse were at 77bpm, I think. Cataracts etc., making it hard for me to see. The body temperature was still slightly low at 33.6°c, but not a lot below the 35.0°c target. It might be more explicit when blogging.

I nipped off to make a waste bag-up and got some potatoes in the saucepan to marinate in the fish sauce before boiling later on. I was on form today!

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and the early morning sky caught my good eye. The cloud looked like it would turn into an alien spaceship and burst into view. I must have got the idea from a film that I’d seen? I’ll remember it! Got some photo’s from the SD card onto the computer. And started to do the Ode Tuesday blog.

200 0 0 Porc I’d not gotten far with the odeing, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. Trotsky Terence shared control; along with Constipation Konrad; I know it doesn’t make sense. But again, the movement took ages to get started and needed so much effort it was painful with it when it did begin, which wasn’t for a long time. I even got some answers in the crossword! But when things moved, they were cripplingly slow, and the final desperate push exited not rock hard as the first few but messy and gooey? What? I didn’t like that session at all!

Back to the odeing and got it finished at last. Getting ready to review the blog before posting, and ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ Chimed out. As soon as I heard it, I remembered I’d not yet unlocked the door. So, I did!

The look on Carer Richard’s face was with a place in the Tate Gallery! Worth a thousand words. Amongst them would be, “You pillock, you’ve forgotten again to unlock the door!” Hehe!

I was busy on the blogging, but due to a three-hour circumlocution of great vagueness, I can only use the scribbled notes to guess what took place. Here they are as best I can decipher them: Ode… rushing, emailed, Facebooking, WP Comments, WP Reader… Ode for today… Conrad Confusion, mind-blanks… rampant wee-wees…

I checked on the spuds to find that I’d not turned on the heat. Plonker! 

Herbert was not so bad today, not as loud. But still persistent throughout.

Took Strawberries unwanted by Richard to Josie. Got the nosh sorted out. Beer battered chips were great, and new potatoes with BBQ sauce and a ketchup dip pot. Sourdough bread, veg sausages, and tomatoes. Baby banana to follow. 8.2/10.

Still vague-minded, no idea who came… yes, I have; it might have been Cheeky-Charley… Yes, I think it was. Bless her.

Grrreat! I nodded off within ten minutes and stayed that way for three solid hours! Then the jumping-awake started again… Grumph!

Inchcock’s Monday, 30th May 2022

MORNING THOUGHT STORMS ODE

ThoughtStorms attack when I’m not at my best…
Vulnerable, trying to sleep, or feeling undistressed,
The brain, with guilt, and fear, brings self-disgust…
I always get myself uptight and newly distressed…
There are no faults or mistakes that can’t be accessed!
Within minutes, I always become depressed!

The torrents of self-hate cannot be suppressed,
Regurgitated mistakes, from the first to the latest…
Minor, severe and the most pleasantest…
They even dig-up long gone thoughts, the absurdest,
Accepting the blame, taking it on the chin & chest…
I find it often less painful and the wisest!

DEMENTIA DOREEN ODE

I’ve considered booking a visit with a Gerontologist…
But I’d probably forget, and the appointment was missed!
As I did the other month with the dentist,
And every appointment with the chiropodist…
Oh, and last appointment with the urologist,
Can I get help from a witch doctor or voodooist?

Hot & cold water taps (faucets) left running,
Food forgot about cooking, burnt… burning,
Falls that leave me bruised and bleeding…
As for my decision-making, I call it dithering!
My concentration and memory constantly withering…
Vascular Dementia Doreen can be most gruelling!

AILMENTS ODE

Thought-Storms, can be depressing and belittling,
Falls on the sock glide, and I need disentangling…
Cataracts: things often walked into and banging,
Toe Stubbing daily; in fact, at this, I am excelling!
Peripheral neurotransmitters unfortunately dying,
Encouraging the odd right leg wobble and dancing…
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley has the torso flailing…

Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, need overhauling,
Mechanic ticker, my fungal lesion, need sorting…
Arthur Itis, Cartilage Kathy, need medicationalisationing…
Glaucoma Gladys, too, and my belching needs muzzling…
Bladder cancer, which can cause havoc wee-weeing!
The old hearing aids can be a little niggling,
But most of all, I could do with my brain recycling!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

MONDAY 30th MAY 2022

03:15hrs: For the umpteenth time, I sprang into wakefulness. Pondered on getting up, I passed wind and belched, and then I nodded again.

Waking the next time, with the usual jerking and jumping, at 05:25hrs. My mind was confused before I got out of the £300 second-hand c1968 recliner to catch my balance; What day is it? Who’s calling today… is anyone. I think there is… As I rose, got dressed, and found myself in the kitchen, making up some waste bags?

I think I was talking aloud to myself as I suddenly decided to get the ablutions tended to. Off to the wet room with the towel from the airer…

I hit my shoulder on the way through the door; my spatial awareness was obviously impaired this morning. Even as Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, I took this in my stride. Even started getting back interest and concentration. But the lackadaisicalness remained. I felt almost laid-back and unconcerned, accepted that things would happen, and saw no point worrying about something? (Not me, at all, what’s was going on here?) No shaving cuts, Dizzy Dennis or Shaking Shaun visits. As I was towelling off, I even remembered that my precious Hristina was on her way to take the DVT blood sample, and the Iceland order was coming twixt 8>10:00hrs.

I finished the waste bag  I’d started earlier and got the computer on. The WordPress blogger was still not letting me open the comments from the editor. Again my outlook changed… I surprised myself at how annoyed I became?

Oh, dearie me, what a messy visit to the Throne it was! Again, it felt like it would be challenging to get the movement started, so I  got the crossword book from the floor cabinet.

How wrong I was! After annoying myself further by failing to make progress with the crossword puzzle, the sloppy mess of an evacuation almost squirted out all over the place. It took me ages to get the area and myself cleaned up, and I was getting hotter under the collar all the time. I became fuming! I went from laid-back to apprehensive, insecure and somewhat pissed off with things?

I was now getting more flummoxed than angry! Changed my PPs (Protection Pants) Confusion Conrad was in charge.

I went back onto the computer and got some photographs loaded. The card reader working seemed to raise my up and down spirits a smidgeon when it let me get them on. This on the right is from last night; I got up at one of the spring awakes to take it.

What was going on with my mood swings? I didn’t understand. But I was whistling to myself as I took this snap of the end car park on Chestnut Way, just beyond Woodthorpe Court. I caught a moving vehicle today! Hehe!

I got the Blood-Pressure and temperature taken. Fair results on the Boot’s all Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, showed a very low reading this Monday morning (Well. it would do, it’s Monday – Hahaha!), at 34°c.

I went to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and ♫ Oh, Susana.. ♫ rang from the door chime. It was my new pal and Carer, Richard. I got him a cold drink to help him cool down; the lad has Diabetes, and sweats all the time, Bless him. A right pair we are; Richard is sweating while I am shivering. Hehe! He looked tired and said he’d not gotten much sleep during his couple of days off. Poor lad! He wasn’t moaning, just answering when I asked him how he’s been sleeping. Rich got the medications sorted and watched me take them, so I didn’t drop any. Then made the wristlet alarm check call for me. I wanted to natter away with him, but I could see he was all in, so I resisted.

After the man had departed, I went on the Google calendar. To check for anything I might have forgotten about. Or put on the wrong day and or time. Haha! Hehehe! I’ve just seen how funny that must have sounded, me; forgetting something… there’s almost a guarantee that I will! I got onto the Sunday blog, updated it, and posted it to WordPress. My gumption seems to have been lifted somewhat by seeing Richard, my Lionheart Carer. If he’s feeling better tomorrow, we can have a better nattering session.

Hello, I think someone above it having some repairs done. A lot of drilling and hammering noises started. Had a wee-wee.

Off to the wet room, I hobbled. I was bending down to retrieve a pencil I’d dropped, and as I wobbled down towards it… a warm damp sensation emanated from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion’s location inside the PPs! Only a tiny spot of bleeding; I was most surprised that it registered with the brain…

An unexpected case of, I got myself washed yet again, freshened up the wee-wee-sprayed legs, and put the trousers in soak. On my removing the pants to put new ones on, what had happened became embarrassingly apparent. It’s a good life innit old age! However, I coped with it pretty calmly, especially compared to how things were earlier in the morning! In fact, I adopted a well deserved.

I was doing the top ode for this blog, and ♫ Oh, Susana.. ♫ rang from the door chime. This time it was heaven-sent Hristina. The DVT haematology nurse comes to take my blood sample for the Warfarin test. Now my spirits were at their peak for the day!

I’d let her down, though. I’d let Dementia Doreen allow me to throw away the wrong part of last week’s assessment and dosages record. She was so sweet about it, though. It caused her to be delayed a while, having to make up a new one. Selfishly, it gave my eyes a little longer to cast over her beauty… Getting carried away there, sorry!

The free Iceland delivery arrived. And the man out the carriers in the doorway for me. But, after getting them through to the kitchenette to sort out, I found a few things that I was not too happy about. I had ordered three 500g bags of small Jersey new potatoes… This above on the right is what they substituted them with: Three 2.5kg bags of potatoes! Is that not 25 times more spuds than I ordered? Hailing Professor Bill Ziegler, in Lab 28, at Manor Laboratories Time Machine Creation wing! (He has a slide rule, you see!), and Tim Price in New Mexico (He has a Mac computer!) for help. And neither of them suffers from Arithmophobia, like wot I do. Hehehe!

However, they also had no (6) sliced bread rolls (£1). But substituted rolls of four rolls that were 2 for £1, charging 85p! I think? Anyway,  they also sent Moroccan tomatoes. That was my own fault (Doreen Dementia, perhaps?) for forgetting how foul they tasted last time I got some! I suppose I could put them out for the rats, but I’m not that cruel! The Strawberries, 3 for £5, two had a day’s life, the other today’s date! They had some beefburger cobs for Richard’s treats on the plus side.

The fridge was looking fuller now, at least. Some stuff is inedible, like the killer tomatoes from Morocco. You’d have laughed seeing me try to make room in the freezer for the potato chips to get in. I distinctly remember being dubious over which of the two packets above to buy, and at the time of my ordering, I realised that there would only be room for one. I thought I’d only ordered one of them… Dementia Doreen again?

After spending several hours writing and amending my mistakes on this blog, I decided it was time to get some nosh… Great balls of fire! It’s 17:00hrs already!!!! The evening carer will be here soon! Gotten Himmel, where did the day go?

Hehe! I took a picture of the evening sky before it started getting dark. Please tell me you can see an animal in the clouds… this was probably noticed with the help of Cataract Kathleen, with support from Glaucoma Gladys.

I made an order for Morrisons to save having it at the weekend. I hope I can get the chips into the fridge… that’s the real reason I ordered this: the fresh curry battered chips. They tasted fantabulous! Guilty!

Got the nosh sorted out. I halved the potatoes I boiled earlier and got them in the oven to crisp off. There are a few crappy, horrible halved Moroccan tomatoes (Eurgh!), the last veg burger, and the last honey yoghourt. It was not too good. Taste 3.3/10.

I was just finishing with the meal, and ♫ Oh. Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came Carer Valerie. Val got the medications sorted, and I took them. I’m glad it was Val cause O could give her one of the massive bags of potatoes that Iceland overloaded me with and know they will not go to waste. The other one is for Richard in the morning, that is, if he wants it, of course. (Well, it seemed a good idea? Hehe!) Thanked Valerie; she took the waste bag as she left; bless her.

Then, the most dubious mission of the day… Trying to get and stay asleep! Mission impossible? Yes, it was! I put the TV on, there was nothing to watch, but that didn’t matter. Usually, I nod off during the commercial breaks, which I did on just about every one of them for three hours, but I only slept for a few minutes, and I shot back awake all the time (of the three hours). Sweet Morpheus was in a proper cantankerous mood!

Memo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit!

Inchcock Diary, Tuesday 24th May 2022 – With Ode to Life

TUESDAY 24th MAY 2022

Ode To Life – Part 33rds

I’d have loved to have written my verse cleverly…
Be intelligent, superior, educated, and academically!
Blend words in rhyme that folk view as appreciatory,
But Doreen’s Dementia makes me do it clumsily…
Not that the comments sound exactly derogatory…
My viewers’ total is abysmal, or worse, evidently,

I try not to write this blog grouchily…
Make it fun, folks, to read it happily…
I may, at times, add things that sound grumpy,
That’ll be of Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Though sometimes, to me, the reality is illusory…
And I’ve never ever won the lottery!

Like now, my plots and thoughts have gone hazy?
This can happen for days at a time, not momentarily,
Semi-logic can return, within a few days, ordinarily,
But of course, please remember this is not obligatory,
During my brain’s down-times, there’s still diversity…
Trying to control it brings much lachrymosity!

I often dream of acquiring omnipotency…
Of course, I can’t, so carry in my impecuniosity…
It’s not just money & wealth, of which I have a scarcity!
But also suasion, wisdom, rationality, logicality…
Folks tell me, I have endless inconsequentiality?
I think this is similar to insignificance or banality?
No doubt, I need help mentally… and exigently!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TUESDAY MORNING

04:35: Rose for a wee-wee. Kettle on, sorted waste bags. Had a rinse, got partly dressed, and got the kettle on.

Getting dressed, I thought it looked like the right leg’s foot was darker than the left leg? But mustn’t complain, cause the rest of the leg and ankle looked far better than yesterday!

Took off the pad from yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test and could not help bus picture my beautiful, precious, and pretty beloved Haematology nurse Hristina in my mind! ♥

Sphygmomanometerisationing was done next. The SYS was up 26 points to 140, DIA up by 2 to 63, and the Pulse had fallen somewhat to 77. Checked on the NHS site; The Ideal is between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm). That means it must have been high spot on, indeed perfect, for several weeks. The body temperature was well down again, low for several days; according to the NHS, 35°c is the optimum?

I got on the computer, and my brain froze. What I was doing, I had no idea, really. This has happened now and then since the stroke. It can often last for a few hours, like waking up, but with no memory of the period of blankness. I named them Mind-Blanks. Then you worry about what you’ve been getting up to! It only lasted about an hour or so, I think. It seemed that I had started another blog template and been working on the wrong one. I really got annoyed when I discovered this! I swore at myself, and I wanted to give up!

Richard the Carer arrived, and it helped pull me around. Not that I wasn’t still a little miffed ant the Mind-Blank happening. Even though it hasn’t happened for a week or two. I think? Rich’ got the Alert Alarm battery checked and gave me my medications. As we had a much-missed chinwagging session, I went to put the mini-hoover back on its charger and…

As I was bent down to reach the socket, Neuropathy Pete instructed his neurotransmitters to give me a flailing leg dance! I dropped the mini-hoover (I hope I’ve not broken anything), and I clung dearly to the electric shelf. It was all over within a few minutes, and no rumblings or injuries. That was due to Carer Richard’s quick response in getting to me in time. I’m pretty sure (although it was a short affair, it was brutal while it lasted) that it would have had me over had I been on my own.

Two cameras, a remote, and the SDH card reader have given up on me in the last few days. Mind-Blanks, Leg Dances, Dizzies, Falls and tumbles are getting more frequent. Doreen’s Dementia, Cataracts Kathleen, and Glaucoma Gladys have all been having a go at me!  Best if I say no more on the subject, methinks!

Took this snap of the rain, made a brew, and pressed on, trying to get the mess I’d made on WordPress understood and corrected; it was hard work that needed concentration. But, it went well for about two hours, progress-wise, and then Esther came bundling in to get the laundry. That shot my attention to pieces.

I began to make progress again. Esther returned with the laundry. Boy, can she talk? Hehe! Unfortunately, she does it when walking away from me and in the other room. Not the foggiest of what she’s saying half the time.

Well, I’ve got to get a rest. I’ll make some canned tomatoes and soya and use the old bread. After that, I can envisage myself just falling asleep until the evening carer wakes me up… there are about four hours in which I can make, eat the meal and some precious sleep… if that is possible.

Extra-chopped tomatoes with pieces of soya. And some slices of milk roll bread… well, half the loaf! Gobbled it up at my leisure slowly and enjoyed it. The Flavour rating for this one was 7.5/10! Washed the pots and was soon in the land of nod. Dream filled, though. No details are recalled, yet I still know that I had dreams?

An hour or so later, Evening Care Valerie arrived, and the shock of the chime bursting out and waking me shook me a bit… at first, I thought I was still in my dream. Hehehe! As I stirred and Valerie came, I realised that although I had got my jammie bottoms on, I was topless this time. Still, she didn’t mind my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, podgy paunch that bounced around in front of me when I stood up. Humph! Val got me sorted out, and I handed her some nibbles in thanks, and off she trotted, kindly taking the waste bag from the door with her for me.

I considered staying up to get on with this blog, but with all the cock-ups and mistakes I’d made earlier in the day, I decided to get back down in the c1968 second-hand recliner and get back to whatever the dream was about. And I did!

Ten minutes later, ♫Oh, Susana♫ rang from the door chime again. I whipped a jacket on quickly and went to open the door – It was Valerie back again.

She had gone back to the Meridian Office and found a letter from the DVT Anticoagulation Clinic changing the Warfarin dosages. Bless her, she realised she’d just given me the wrong dosage earlier and returned to give me more to agree with the new dosage roster. This should have been provided by whoever was in charge (surely?) to the night carer? But it had been left on the desk. Fortunately, the new dosages had increased, and Valerie gave me the extra tablet to put things right for me.

The thought was that had Val not found this new rota or the doses had gone down, not up, it would have been too late, and it meant I could be in a pickle medically if I had a bleed and an increased risk of a heart attack, blood-clot, and or stroke. Methinks Meridian, who has just put their prices up, has made a mistake. Be interesting to see if I get an apology this time. Valerie saved the day, anyway!

EMBARRASSMENT! As I was taking the Warfarin tablet, it dawned on me – I did not have my jammie bottoms on! I red-facedly thanked Val, and she shot off, Bless her cotton socks!

Back in the recliner…

Inchcock’s Monday Photographs

Iceland delivery

Morrison delivery

Sorry that this is so scrappy and crappy a blog.

Vascular Dementia Doreen really got me yesterday. I got in a pickle trying to sort out whether or not I’d post these, or not. At the same time, I was trying to get the obstreperous Card Reader to accept newer photos… a delivery came.

While putting the food away, another delivery arrived. I was struggling to keep it together cause I was sure the Iceland delivery was for Friday, not Monday… No doubt my fault,  error yet again, which doesn’t help my confidence one iota!

The kitchen was like Steptoe & Son’s was on the telly. Food was all around to be collated. Next, the INR Nurse arrived…

Not that I had any problems with the compassionate, beautiful, sweet-natured Hristina coming to deal with me. In fact, it was the only, I think, in the whole day that I was free of depression and frustrations – Gawd, I love her! (Also Jillie, Obergruppenfürheress Warden Deana, Carers Julie, Cheeky Charley, Sarah, Elena… Ah, so many!) Hristina always lifts me in spirit.

Leg check.

Herbert was not so bad during today, although there were a few mechanical concertos and some clangy Abbellimenti.

I’d ordered some Cathedral City cheese, red onion and focaccia baps on special offer… sorry I bothered now!

Luckily, the mushroom pate tasted great, and I filled both baps up with it! New potatoes, yellow and red halved tomatoes, and some ready roasted crispy onion bits (which went down well!). A pot of jelly & custard to round it off. I didn’t eat all of the focaccia baps, but I removed and ate all of the pates.

Took the things through to wash them up and copped for an Involuntary right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance… The tray went to the floor, which is better than my doing so.

Crap! I spent around an hour cleaning things up. I had no choice but to keep bending down cause the small onions and breadcrumbs I couldn’t see and the picker-upper was no use. Getting back up on my feet took a while in itself. Then getting the mop and bucket out of the wet room and mopped the floor. Let it dry first, took the equipment to the throne room, then went back in and cleaned the pots, tray etc., and then myself.

The evening carer arrived. Dour is how I felt cause the backache had been brought on by all the bending. Medications taken. I took an extra Codeine after the Carer left with the waste bags. I only take extra if needed, but it was that night.

Took a late evening sunrise shot. No you fool! Sunset.

Got into the £300 second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-covered tatty recliner. I reckon that I must have dropped off for a few moments, then shot awake again, at least 20 times!

Gone midnight, I put the TV on, hoping it would help me sleep deeper. It sometimes does… but no. The rest of the night’s sleep was interrupted so many times!

Grangleknackles!

Inchcock Today Wednesday 18th May 2022: Dairy

Wednesday, 18th May 2022

Ode To Depression

This morning, my depression turned to contemplation,
First, a few moments of deep retrospection,
What ifs, maybes and with some reprehension…
With mixed feelings, I recalled Thatcherisation,
A spirit that shocked and scared the whole nation,
Can’t keep his pants on John Major, constipation!
Tony Blair, liar, self-advancer and chancer… revulsion!
Gordon Brown, debt maker, indeed, no statistician,
Runaway Etonian, smug, arrogant but shit… Cameron,

Theresa May, Grenfell Fire, Tory Council, on the next day,
Lessons from the fire would be learned, she did say…
Visited the aftermath and was chased away!
Kensington & Chelsea London Borough Council, well they…
… are responsible, but Tories: So, no prosecutions to this day!

Guilt, self-blame, and self-recrimination led to self-expostulation,
Whatever came to mind led me to self-recrimination…
Black depression, I’d lost control and rationalisation…
I needed a bit of luck… to regain my motivation…
Eventually, I settled for acceptance of insanity and self-irrision!
It seems my life will never get any moments that are ambrosian,
Then again, there’s is there ever any justification…

But no! I shall fight this darkness by being conciliatory,
Apart from the ailment, deafness, and cataract, I can see…
Most of the other problems are down to my past stupidity!
The guilt should be expected and accepted, you see…
Bad choices, and decisions, are coming back to haunt me!
So how do I fight them off to get my mind guilt-free?
I just have to sulk and take the blame compliantly!

I found when reading this that it flows with duplexity…
My rambling thoughts get entangled, incipiently…
Reviewing failures is a wise thing, necessitously…
I’ve so many ailments and faults characteristically,
And a stomach that bulges grows, excrescently!
I struggle through each day rather incompetently,
Thought storms and depressions are just an inevitability!
This does not stop me from wanting happiness, such a pity!

Inchcock is now out of his Dracula Depression,
The main reason was his guilt; he now shows contrition…
The reasons for this, there’s a combination…
Well, several really, starting with his visit to the fridge,
He found some mushroom pate, just a smidge…
Not a common pate; this one had caramelisation!
With chips in his freezer, this eased his deprivation!
Chips, pate, tomatoes for his palettes delectation…
He loves his comfort food, and that’s no exaggeration,
He now accepts his loneliness and being Godforsaken…
First, though, this blog to do; he also loves his scriptitations!

Diary

Due to my taking so long to do the ode, a shortened version. Sorry!

After falling asleep early last night, I sprang awake at 01:30hrs. Wee-wee, wash, wee-wee.

Sorted out a waste bag or two, passed wind, and shot to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne – Trotsky Terence controlled – Messy! Decided to get the ablutions done. A lot of cleaning was already needed after the almost liquid evacuations.

Got the computer on. I loaded pictures from yesterday.

Latest local Covid figures.

I’m assuming Tuesday night, a meal from earlier, not positive as to which day it was on. But Dementia Doreen is not letting me access the old memory easily at this moment. She is a bugger!

Getting back into the room after ablutionalisationing. The legs, ankles and feet were looking a  little less battered about. But Arthur Itis and Cathy’s Cartilage were giving me some sticks.

Carer Richard arrived. Looking well done in after his shift. He said he had another call to make, so he could not stop for a decent natter. But still gave me a few minutes, bless him.

Herbert kept me company over the next couple of hours as I started updating yesterday’s blog. Got it finished as Herberts stopped his banging and clanging. Which was nice not to hear.

I took a break, and hobbled around the flat, did the belated balance exercises, and did a bit of bending, but this routine was restricted by Cathy and Arthur Itis. But no Dizzy Dennis visits yet. Yehaa!

Facebooked on TFZ and Winwood Heights pages. Did some WordPress Reading, then Comments reading and answered. Computing again, I Finished and posted the blog.

Made a start on the ode for this blog. The ideas were coming so fast I could hardly type them fast enough… thus it took me hours and hours to get it finished, and a multitude of errors had to be corrected.

Herbert gave me good hours of bangs, scraping noises, tap-tapping, and finishing his concert with a proper crunch-thud. Silence after that? I hope the haughty, snobby, pompous gentleman has not injured himself and is not lying up there, bleeding in agony.

I put the computer in sleep mode, rose from the swivel chair, and went into the balcony to have a moment’s peace. Took the Canon camera with me and shot the end car park

RVM, the Red-Van-Man van, had parked even further into the yellow chevron No Parking Zone. Still, it is not too important an issue with all the murders, prison escapes, stabbings, and children being mauled and killed by dogs.

I pressed on with the blog, but tiredness overcame me. It does that occasionally, I’ve noticed!

I called my Precious Jillie (Ex Carer) to see if she’ll be in tomorrow, and I can drop off the flowers for her. (Assuming that J Sainsbury’s delivers them and not a block of lard as one of their famous substitutes!) Luckily she agreed. So on the way down to get some cash from the hole in the wall.

I can pop them into Jill’s home, go to the bank, and then Ozan, the Continental Shop, for their delicious vegetarian beef, sausages and sourdough bread (Not on order from JS). No doubt some other bits that will catch my eye.

I turned off the computer, planning to get my meal, head down, and wake alter to complete the blog-finishing mission.

I got the nosh prepped and served up. Potato fries, finely crushed tomatoes, veggie bacon, and a pot of the delicious instant mash with veg sausage bits and a gravy flavour. Not a mixture one would usually have, but I was tired, confused, and a smidge fed-up at the time. But it tasted okay, and I ate most of it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Stripped and washed, I got down in the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner, underneath a blanket. Determined to get to sleep…

On the verge of nodding off, I realised I was naked, and the Carer was due in about an hour… So, not wanting to make the mistake of greeting a Carer with no trousers on again, I got some jammie bottoms, and a t-shirt on, about to get back down in the chair, and needed a wee-wee rather urgently, and made my way to the bucket…

I stubbed my toe on the wheel of the recliner as I lost my balance… banged my already painful Arthur Itis and Cathy Cartilage patella on the arm of the chair, swore, nearly pee’d myself but got there in time… had a somewhat sad wee-wee, and emptied the now nearly-full NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), washed and disinfected it.

Eventually, I got resettled in the recliner. Once again, on the verge of drifting off to sleep… and ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the doorbell, and Carer Valerie came in. I was not entirely with it, but she got me sorted, and unknown to me at the time, she washed meal things for me. Bless her!

Gave up, got up, and got back on the Computer. Sleep had been taken of of my agenda now. I turned the TV on to watch a Heartbeat episode, nodded, and missed the last ten minutes.

I cheered up a bit when the Card Reader started working again, and I got this photographicalisation that I took earlier of semi-puffer clouds. Tsk! I thought I saw a claw, but I can’t find it now.

It is now just gone midnight. And I’ll post this off and try again to get some sleep, Sweet Morpheus permitting, of course.

Inchcock Today: Ode & Diary – Saturday 15 May 2022

Approached creating this ode quite guiltily…
My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary…
I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily…
For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me,
If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky…
So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency!
Will it get boos? Or be received gladly?
Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…

Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency,
I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally.
Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three…
Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky,
And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while,
Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!

It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!

I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing…
Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering,
My previous determination started withering…
Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling,
The whole incident was depressing and galling!
I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling…
I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?

Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!

It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today,
This cheered me up, I have to say…
I lost all signs of acting acidulously…
Lovely gal, pretty and chatty,
I began to feel once again, altruistically,
I hope she comes again on Sunday!

Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.

Diary Saturday 14th May 2022

05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.

I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.

Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.

Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?

Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…

As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!

It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!

I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥

On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.

The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!

Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…

I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.

The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!

I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.

Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!

Cheers!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odeing

Brief Diary – with Boringly Long Ode…

One hell of a Messy Day!

Friday 13th May 2022

I reluctantly woke at 05:30hrs, and after a few minutes of determinate efforts to nod off again, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I was cruelly forced to get up!

I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But wa