Inchcock Today – Monday 23rd November 2020: Ailments BPB and AG in attendance. Humph!

TFZer Movie-Maker and Stars?

But only mine – the failing neurotransmitters to blame! Haha!

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Monday 23rd November 2020

Croatian: Ponedjeljak, 23 Studenog 2020

23:15hrs: I woke in a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. (Nothing unusual in that, although the early hour was a bind!) I was weary through lack of sleep, with drooping eyelids, and struggling to engage my thoughts. Hello, I’m sneezing away now!

Not that the lack of sleep bothers someone like me. A heroical, strong, young, fit, healthy, virile, confident, handsome, stouthearted, very-much loved and admired, intrepidly courageous, health enthusiast, fitness fanatic, well-educated, keen outdoor adventuring enthusiast… Well, I may have just over-hyperbolised things there, a smidge) 

As the grey-cells regained a weak form of logicality; I dragged my bouncy-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. And I rose up on my painful overgrown toenailed feet. I caught my balance, as per the After-Stroke Teams instructions.  But had to skip the last bit, as the need for the Throne was growing more urgent by the second.

This session gave me a pleasant surprise! I got down on the plastic lid, and straight away the evacuation flowed. It was a long one, but that didn’t matter – It was totally pain-free! No bleeding either! Messy, though, very! Then having to clean me and the WC furniture, which took me ages, took the edge off of the, well, almost pleasure of super-easy pooing! Not that I was excited, for every Throne visit lately is totally different, which the Gastrointestinal Doctor Gupta had told me may happen for a few months. I just hadn’t expected the differentiations to be so acute on each visit. After the passing, BPB was soon starting to ache much worse?

I sorted out the Health Checks. Heck of a shock when the sphygmomanometer gave out the SYS reading of 171. Blimusigational! Yesterdays was only 148? I wonder why this happened? Ah, well, must press on, so I got the new thermometer out.

A reasonable reading of 68.8°c. Well, at least that was fair enough.

I went to get the medications out – and shame and disgust at myself again! I’d not taken last nights doses, yet again!

So, I took them then. Now I must remember to take the morning ones in a few hours.

It’s all very most confusing life is, when you’re nearing the end of it, and the old previously so reliable memory becomes unpredictable and a hit-and-miss affair. Hogglebogwash!

I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and I got side-tracked. (Hard to believe, me getting divagated, but, there you are... Hehe!) I took off the grey zip-up jumper I had on and set to washing it. Why I did this is still unknown to me, it was at the time I did it!

When the handwashing was finally, done- wrung and hung above the sink, to drip away drying, I had to clean up the mess I’d made doing the hand laundering. The floor had to be dried of sudsy water, the dropped and knocked-over items retrieved from where they had landed, and or rolled to, and the sink and counters washed.

I got back to making a brew of tea again, got the kettle reboiling, and noticed the small but beautiful quarter-moon was out in the now morning sky. I got the Nikon camera and took this photograph in Night Landscape mode.

Got the computer booted up, and uploaded this morning’s pictures. (Still doing some sneezing here). Then started to update the Sunday diary.

But this did not last for long. BPB started to get crescively more painful. So I hobbled to the wet room, and applied as best I might, a dollop of Phorpain gel to the affected areas, and rubbed it in as well as I could. It made no difference, though. Klunglefrazzles! 

I’m sorry I bothered now, cause coming out of the wet-room, I hit my right shoulder on the edge of the doorframe, and now SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) has joined DD and BPB harassing me! Criggleblogglesworthisms! How much more of this can one man take!

Of course, I’m not really bothered, whatsoever.

I got the blog updating finished. Posted it off. Pinterested a few snaps. Went on Facebooking, then sent the link off via Email. I went on CorelDraw again, to try and get some page top graphics done for the TFZer pictures.

After about two or three days, I’d got two graphics done… Well, it felt that long to me! Nicodemus has joined at ailment army now. However, a Silver-Lining search result: Duodenmal Donald departed the battlefield, for some R & R? Hahaha! The main offender now is Anne Gyna.

Then, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne for the second time. Messy in the extreme, a tad more painful, but over so quickly, and no bleeding. Far less volume this time I thought, not that I weighed it or anything. Cackle! Titter! Hehe! Cleared the evacuated product with one flush, as well! Yeehaa!

I decided to see what slots J Sainsbury had available. I wasn’t too keen on using them after the last cock-up with substitutes and damaged goods, but I dare not use Morrisons to get my Chilli-Con-Carne, after they substituted 2 cans of their cheap (69p) CCC, with their best ones, at £2.58! And the utterly crap MCains peppered chips as a substitute for the Morrisons Sweet Potato battered fritters. Apart from there were no sweet potatoes or batter, the sub was okay. Swine!

Swine again now! So, I made up an order with Sainsbury’s, for Sunday 29th November, twixt 0800>09:00hrs. I made a point of working out how to opt for ‘no substitutes’, but I got it wrong, and could not reaccess the list! As it happened, I’d missed off the BBQ super-noodles from the order, so I went in to edit it again, add the pots to it. And got the no substitutions and added the CCC, and bread to that list.

I also found that I have a refund coupon, well, two of them, so clicked on the activate buttons. Then found an option that if I spent £60, I could get £9 off of the order? So I clicked that, but I had to, unfortunately having to increase the ordered items to reach the total. As I updated, I got a long-winded message telling that because I had chosen so many items with the No-Substitute on them, if the total is not reached, I’d forfeit the £9 off-offer. See their substitution rulings! Cobblers!

I knew that Hristina was calling later today, so got the ablutions sorted out next. 

And what a feast of flipping, fiascos, faux pas, foul-ups, fluffs, follies, fatuous-farcicalisations this session was!

  • I got in the wet-room and moving the shower chair, I let it slip from my grasp. Or rather Nicodemus did. (You can see the bruise in the photos later!
  • The gums bled when I was doing the teeth!
  • A few nicks when shaving (5).
  • A stubbed toe when moving the sock glide out of the way to prepare the shower.
  • I bent down to pick up the dropped shower gel bottle and hit my head on the grab bar!
  • This started BPB off again!
  • As I was drying off, I put on the new glasses, and the lens fell out of the frame! Grrr!
  • Moving the chair back under the shower, I gave myself another toe-stubbing (At least this one was not too bad).
  • The medicationing started poor little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
  • Finally, on leaving the room, I was intent on not hitting the door frame again this time, and I didn’t. But as I turned to collect the forgotten to take with me wristlet alarm, I knocked most of the stuff off of floor cabinet when I had a balance loss moment!

Not one of my bestest ablution sessions! I was so irate with myself.

With all the clearing up, extra medicalisationing, I think that this session took me about an hour and a half!  I don’t think I’m one of the luckiest tenant’s in here, am I?

But then again, I already knew that.

At least apart from the bruised foot, bloodied lesion, shaving cuts, bashed head, stubbed toes, and Back-Pain-Benda back to her painful best, I feel I have nothing to complain about really. Much!

At least I had a visit for Hristina, my precious Vampire Nurse to come. (An inner smile glowed!)

After I’d calmed down, and was sorting out some waste bags, the front door chimes chimed out. It was Josie returning the dinner things. She mentioned how she’s enjoyed it so much. Which was good, and semi-cheered me up a soupçon.

I got back on the computer, and fear that I’d left something undone, not done, in the wet-room, forced me to get back there and have a check, that all was okay. I’d left the clothes I’d used in the ablutions and medical tendings, and washed on the support bracket.

The intercom flashed. It was Hristina, my beloved Vampire phlebotomy nurse who’d arrived. She rang the intercom at 11:45hrs.

By EQ recognised that she looked full of angst and tensed up, bless her. And no wonder, as she said while whipping out my blood: Only one lift working in the block, hard to find a parking space, extra clients added to her list,  stressed the Angel.

Although she gave no obvious signs and tried to speak in her usual comforting way, the speed of her words revealed the pressure she was under. I don’t think she was with me for more than five minutes. Beautiful, enjoyable minutes, though. ♥

After she had gone, and I lowered my sprits and sulked a little, and did some updating on this diary.

I turned of the computer, feeling a tad down and weary now. I got the waste bags, a lot of them had built up. This is because we have to use tiny bags now since the upgrade, so as not to block the chute, as has often been the case in the past, and cost a fortune to sort out.

I got them on the box and not the three-wheeled walker, and with some difficulty, got the trolley out through the door. (For the first time in a few days, I twisted my back getting the guide over the raised doorstop, and BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) gave me an electric-like shock, and hurt on of a level 7/10 pain-wise, and has stayed with me all night and into the morning!)

Struggling even more to open the door to the lift lobby (BPB), as I got halfway through the door, there were working signs and equipment all over the place, and at the end of the lobby, three workers, who turned to look at me – offered me a look of contempt, a sneer, and a scowl. No way though – I’m sure I hadn’t been informed of these workings? But who knows, with my memory!

So, I was going nowhere.  I made my way with difficulty back into the flat’s lobby and returned to flat. Storing the trolley back in its corner in the hallway, obviously with the full of waste bags box still on top of it. And BPB really giving me some stick now!

I took the evening medications, with an extra Codeine 60g, and as best I could, offered Back-Pain-Brenda some PHorgpain Gel where I could reach to. Hoping, foolishly perhaps, that it might calm her down a bit. I was now in a right picklement, BPB and Anne Gyna bother having sadistic fun with me. Argh!

I got the meal prepped. A different type tonight, the Beef Curry, had a ring-pull opener on it, so I tried it. Got some potato letters in the oven cooking. Then considered the seasoning, that might be required for the curry. First I got it in the saucepan and tried a spoonful as it slowly heated up. I could not detect any curry. I decided on some balsamic vinegar and made-up some gravy with vegetable stock and added it to the mix. Put some Soy sauce into the mix. Fingers crossed. Not that I was too bothered, with BPB and AG for both still nagging away at me.

Nosh was served up, and I wanted to show how I felt and decided I’d put my views in potato-letters on top of the fodder. Just my luck, all those letters I cooked, and no letter T! Hahaha! Not to be beaten, I nibbled an H and used that to give my message to the world via the internet and this photo. Daft, I know, but I was in so much pain and fed-up with it.

I got the saucepan and tray washed, and took the meal though to the recliner, and eventually got my poor old back settled in a position that was not too uncomfortable. Of course, by then the food was not very hot! Globdanglesods!

I wasn’t going to go through the agony of getting up to reheat it, so I tucked into the bowl of beef curry. Notwithstanding, nevertheless, and however, the taste was not too bad at all. Had the meal been warmer, it may have got a better Flavour Rating than the 6.5/10 I gave it. The other can of beef curry in the cupboard will be used later, and not rust away or be given away.

It took a long time eating though. The moment I moved to get up and do the washing of the plate bowl and cutlery, BPB started again. Oy, Oy, Oy! Did I feel it, too!

Eventually, I got washed, stripped down, and back in the c1968 recliner again. Gawd know how long it took me to find a position that BPB would tolerate a little better – I expected the worst… needing a wee-wee, sneezing, or wanting the Porcelain Throne and having to move again. But nae bother!

Not that man like me was concerned over a little pain and agony, of course. Ahem! The prayer and confession I offered up, brought no reply or relief.

Surprisingly, I nodded off quickly. Waking up just before midnight, still in pain. I removed the remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, and crumbs from my folds in my belly fat…

Inchcocksi – Sunday 22nd November 2020: Ailments in a bad mood, and I did a lot of wittering

TFZers, but where are they?

Sunday 22nd November 2020

Greek: Κυριακή 22 Νοεμβρίου 2020

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Last night, try as I did, and I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I got up, finished and posted off the blog. Nodded-off again! Yee-Haa!

02:45hrs: I woke (three-often-interrupted-for-wee-wees hours) in need of a wee-wee, but not urgently. I sensed and felt around the ailments, wriggled a bit and tested the legs, arms, wrists, ankles and torso, to try and self-diagnose, the little blighter’s veracity this morning.

I soon discovered that DD (Duodenal Donald) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), (later on joined by Anne Gyna – badly), yesterdays agonies that were given to me, were both top-of-the-heap again, pain-wise.

But the search for a silver-lining revealed that Arthur Itis,  Reflux Roger, Cartilidge Cathy, Shaking Shaun and Saccades-Sandra and others, were seemingly in am empathetic mood with me! Bless ’em! So, as I tackled the mountainous task of heaving my crassulent, flabby, boing-boinging-stomached body from the clutches of the c1968 recliner, I adopted a kind-off; Hey-Ho!, attitude?

Having gone through the After-Stroke teams recommended balance-catching routine, the hobble to the wet room, was a struggle, but not for the usual reasons.  No straight loss of balance, no Dizzy Dennis, nor Arthur Itis problems! Just a difficulty with the misjudging of distances to my right-side. Had there been a CCTV in the flat, it would have reminded any viewer of Freddie Frinton and the Ministry of Funny walks! Hehehe! But, there was no going into anything or tumbles on the way to the wet room, and the need of the Porcelain Throne arose en route.

How can things with the innards change so often? I’d been sat down for a few seconds, and without any warning, the evacuation began. Ooh, argh! And all done! No mess, no bleeding at all! How so much came out in such a little time amazed me! A bit of discomfort, but no pain as such, either! A 1-1 draw, between Constipation Konrad and Diarorrea Duncan. And, one flush cleared the elephantine mass away, too!

Anne Gyna was now taking over as Primo-Pain-Profferer, as I got in the kitchenette to make a brew. Got the kettle on and took this half-decent, semi-zoomed photograph, of the morning view, from the hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking window.

Maed a mug of Glengettie tea, and into the main room to do the Health Checks and take the medications.

Anne Gyna was continuing to give me grief! I must ask the Doctor about this on Monday, or ring 111, but they only tell you to see your Doctor, which is not going to be easy.

Got the sphygmomanometerisationing was done. The SYS was well down on yesterdays reading, at only 142! The pulse up a tad at 90, but I don’t think that’s a problem… I’ll ask Dr Google. Yep, okay! ‘Between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm)’

During the time since the Porcelain Throne visit, I’ve wee-wee’d eight times? Ah, well! I took the medications, with an extra Dioctyl® capsule, and Codeine 600g, but it isn’t helping ease Anne Gyna in the slightest, fed-up with this. But I reckon it did ease BPB later.

I made a start on this blog, in between several more SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) wees.

Then went on CorelDraw, to do a few graphics for the diary-top.

Getting artwork from the web to amend, I found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottinghamshire.

Blimey, Anne Gyna is giving me some high-quality hurtful stabbings! I had a wee-wee, and ent to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. I made up some small waste bags while the kettle boiled, and put them in the box, and onto the three-wheeled walker, ready to go down with some others later on.

Back to CorelDrawing. I ended up sorting some files out that I’d got mixed up, but still haven’t got any graphics done – Humph!

The feet were humming a little, so I took a look at them. They were fluid-retentioning again, I think, and the nails getting longer than ever!

I got the ablutionalisationing done. Not too much bother, not the showering caused owt worth mentioning. Multi-dropsies and a crack on the back of the head, when I was getting back up after retrieving the shoer-gel bottle for the umpteenth time.

The dressing was a struggle, and the medicationalisationing went well enough.

Then I got the small waste bags added to and stacked them in the box on the trolley-walker guide.

As I was doing this, the landline flashed and rang. It was Brother in law, Pete. We had a good chinwag. I was updated, on how Pete’s radiation treatments for his cancer had gone.

Next week he goes back for a cat-scan again, to have a look at how things are reacting the treatment he’s had. Fingers crossed! I told him Tim and Billumski on WordPress sent there best wishes.

Cheered him up a bit, I think!

Back to the rubbish sorting. Out and along by the lift lobby to the waste room chute.

Bit of a farce getting into the room. A bigger struggle to get the bags into the tiny opening. Trapped the finger (the same one as yesterday) in the heavy metal lid.
A further kerfuffle getting the trolley out of the chute-room, trapped my ankle against the door and wheels of the guide. Well, it stops me getting bored, dunnit! Hahaha!

I took this photograph from the window near the waste-room door. Some Crows were flying about, but by the time I’d got the camera out they were long gone.

I even managed another moment to have a hullabaloo going back to the flat. A cracking well aimed for maximum pain, toe-stubbing, against the trolley!

I think I said ‘Well, fancy that!’ at the time.

I returned back to the flat and got on with doing Josie’s nosh.

I felt a little unexpectedly irritable with myself while doing the food prepping, but buggered if I know why? Got the meal delivered dead-on time again, midday! This is not the real meal delivered today, I forgot to p[picture it, and used an old one – Cheat!

Things went pear-shaped then! I had to go for another Porcelain Throne visit. So much blood came out, everything else of the visit was unimportant and forgettable. So I forgot it! I spent a good while cleaning up and medication, during which I found that both Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding! This actually eased the mind, at least I know why all that flood of blood escaped. Not feeling so good, now.

It made the PPs look pretty in red and white, though. Hahaha!

All calmed down now, I had a very late brekkers of the left-over cheesy potatoes with chives, sea salt, Leicester cheese and butter, from Josie’s nosh. Jolly good they tasted too!

BPB and DD were both still in attendance, and I was trying to do some graphicalisationing, but it was a hard slog with the concentration all shot.

And early head down was demanded. So I got on with making the main meal.

I added some tomatoes and peas to the Chilli-Con-Carne in the saucepan and made sure I checked it every few minutes, in between doing a Thoughts graphic for later use.

Put some part-baked rolls into the oven, and turned off Computer Katie.

Made up the evening pots of medications and put it on the ottoman, to take while eating. (Unfortunately, I failed to do so, but corrected this later when I woke up).

As you can see, I didn’t manage to eat all of the Chilli-Con-Carne meal, all as part of my self, and Doctor-imposed new diet. (Ahem!)

As I got down to watch something on TV, erm… whatever it was, Anne Gyna suddenly stopped her day-long marathon of giving me grief, it was like an Angel turning off a tap! Although Duodenal Donald and Back-Pain-Brenda were continuing with their assault, the relief at Anne Gyna retreating from the battle was almost frabjous, and appreciated!

Ah, yes, gorrit! It was an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that I wanted to watch, with Gordon… Hang on, that’s wrong… Erm,  ah, Kitchen Nightmare. The brain’s going on one of its ‘Work-to-Rule’ episodes, again.

I watched the first part, and when the adverts came on, I thought I’ll nip through and get the pots in the sink to soak, which I did. It took me that long to get up, simply put the cutlery, dish and tray in the sink, and get back, and the next part of the programme had started. And we all know how long the Freeview commercial breaks can last! Hehehe!

At the second commercial break, I remember seeing the evening medications still in the plastic pot on the ottoman – and vaguely thinking, I’ll take them now… and I fell asleep!

I woke at 23:00hrs. Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Today – Mon 16 Nov 20: Lamentably, ludicrousnesses lingered!

TFZers in the Gym ♥

Monday 16th November 2020

Hindi: सोमवार 16 नवंबर 2020


22:50hrs: I broke back into the real world, accompanied by DD (Duodenal Donald) and AG (Anne Gyner), both giving me as much hassle as they have ever done. (Bless ’em!) Swiftly being joined by the gut-aches, rumbling, grumbling and, I expect, preparing the path, brewing up for a Porcelain visit.

At least I was feeling a little more with-it, mentally, than yesterday. I knew that my beloved, beautiful, blood-vampire nurse, Hristina was due to call on me. She is always very busy nowadays, but her visiting, even if only for a few minutes, is better than any medicine.

As I extracted my ponderously-gross, wobbly-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey, and moved my plum-shaped torso towards the amazingly little-used EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), the left wrist started to itch. As is usual, I gave it a good scratching. Hello, more blotches and papules coming up?

As I was about to pick up the bucket – the innards rumblings increased, and I took immediate action, and I made for the wet room. Getting to the Porcelain Throne, almost tearing the jammie-bottoms, and actually tearing the PPs, as I desperately got down just in time, and the evacuation started! It hurt, but it always does nowadays, but far less than yesterday. But messy it certainly was! Back to the khaki-coloured torpedo style, leaving bits floating that looked like overcooked brown kale. Minimal bleeding, though – but maximum cleaning up needed. However, I was glad I’d got that over with, I can tell yer!

All sorted, washed and medicated, and back to the front room, and I got on with the Health Checks. At this stage, I wondered what was going to go wrong this morning, after the last few days record of Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops! 

But, my determination to stop being a victim stopped me! The BP result for the SYS was 167, which was in line with the previous two ones. I put the figures into Google to see how they faired. I got this: “Normal pressure is 120/80 or lower. Your blood pressure is considered to be high (stage 1) if it reads 140/90. Stage 2 high blood pressure is 160/100 or higher. If you get a blood pressure reading of 180/110 or higher more than once, seek medical treatment right away.” I see!

I then took the body temperature on the new thermometer. The 36.6° c result is fair enough, I reckon.

I took the morning medications, remembering to take the Furosemide tablet and the Dioctyl® Capsule with the regular ones.

No tea this morning yet – It’s True! I had the spring water to take the tablets and took the odd guzzle from spring water, and cordial I made up.

The innards seemed to be settling, but Anne Gyna was rampantly stinging away, still.

I got Computer Katie on, and uploaded the photos and stored them in the appropriate files, and WordPress.

Then made a start on this blog as far as here, next I updated yesterdays post and got it sent off. I emailed the link. Pinterested some snaps. Caught up with the Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

Then I got some breakfast. The last of the Batchelor’s noodles, but well altered and seasoned. Made and added some gravy, balsamic vinegar, and the last of the few Foul Beans. And my first jolly-strong brew of Glengettie tea, and carried out the morning dining, (not even 06:00hrs yet).

While I was making a start on creating some graphics, well, one of them anyway. I realised that it was time now to get the Ablutions sorted out, for Hristina, my sweet Vampire nurse is coming. I wanted to make sure that in case she comes earlier than expected, like last week, she can avoid the horrendousness of seeing my rhinoceros-like body when I went out of the shower, again!

A smidge too early for me to have a shower with the noise it makes (07:20hrs) I don’t want to disturb anyone if I can help it. So, I had a stand-up jobbie, but I do miss having a shower, even though the risk of falls, dizzies or knocks are always present and likely to occur, in differing degrees every time I use the shower, nowadays.

It’s just my heroic outlook, bravery, bubbling personality, and a chance to view my muscled but lithe, masculine young body, you now… Oh, alright, forget it! Hahaha!

Stand-Up Ablutionalisationing Activities Report

  • The teeth cleaning was one of the betterer events of the session. Just a few dropsies.
  • The shaving only produced three nicks, but eight dropsies! No injuries were worthy of note.
  • I did get somewhat over-enthusiastic in cleaning the rear end – much bleeding and stinging from Harolds Haemorrhoids! A struggle to stop the blood flow, but I got it stemmed, nit without some discomfort and mess, in the end.
  • I can’t believe how stupid I am, yer know! I only went at cleaned Little Inchies fungal lesion, with the same idiotic ardour, and this time the blood flowed for a worryingly long-time, well, bled.  
  • More of the Hydrocortisone (Steroid) Daktacort ointment was needed than ever before, to stop the tiniest of cracks (lesions) from bleeding!
  • However, on the brighter side, apart from looking like a carcass, the legs and feet were losing the new growths? The blister thing that came up very quickly yesterday had gone right down again? And the ulcer was even fainter?

Reading this about the ablutions as I checked, it and made countless corrections (of course!), it sounded worse than it was. Other than Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, maybe Harolds’s Haemorrhoids, it didn’t go too badly at all.

I got out of the wet room, leaving another clump of shoulder skin on the edge of the door-frame as I misjudged the width again, and said: “Oh, dear, ay-well it can’t be helped”. Well, maybe not those exact words… Humph!

I got some small waste bags made up, and as there was a chance that heart-fluttering Vampire Nurse Hristina might arrive soon, I put them in the box on the trolley to take to the chute later.

Then got on CorelDraw, determined to get some graphics done. Nicodemus, SSS and Shaking Shaun were all in a good mood with me! And by the time my sweet Angel arrived, I’d made two-day graphicalisations and a TFZer page header one!

Smug-Mode Adopted!

I heard and recognised the voice calling, it was Hristina, my pulchritudinous, precious, bewitching, blood-taking, loin-girding, ‘Cheer-Me-Upperer’, and phlebotomists vampire nurse ♥. Someone had let her in the foyer door, and here she was. Happiness may only come for a few minutes each week, but this was those few minutes! And I wallowed in them! But it felt like seconds later, she was off to serve someone else… My momentary burst of happy contentment degenerated, deteriorated, dwindled and a mild depression relaced them! Dangnableisations! 

I opted to try and cheer myself back up; and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and took some photographicalisation from the light & view-blocking kitchen window, that was obviously designed by a gerontophobia, or maybe person living with gerascophobia. I took a shot of below on Chestnut Drive; the car park looks well-full this lunchtime.

I turned my photographicalisationing attentions to the dank, yet still beautiful skies.

To the left, straight ahead and to the right. The layered cloud appearance was there still, but not so obvious with no sunshine to burst through.

I noticed, although somewhat late in the month, I admit, that my Nokia Ultra-mobile, with 512MB, £1,399 for 128GB storage, with its gargantuan, 6.9inch display screen, and the hole-punch camera, and ‘Space Zoom 100x ’mobile phone had not had the time changed yet. So I altered it. Ahem! But I took this photo and tried to get my head in the reflection for a laugh. Gawd, look at the pale death-like skin!

The bells rang out Dusty’s hit tune.

I got up and staggered to the door, to find that the Amazon automatic can-opener was on the floor outside the door. Aha, I thought, I can have tinned food without any problem now! Little did I know what farcicalisations lay ahead for me!

I got the parcel into the front room, and I was interested in trying to see how the thing worked, and if I could operate it with my disabilities.

These were claimed to be: Can Openers Electric, Hand Free Electric Can Opener, Restaurant Kitchen Can Opener, Ergonomic Design, Free of Manual Labour, for Senior Arthritis Home Gadget!

We’ll have a look and see then.

At least the instructions were readable. (Lies, but decipherable). I’d got the batteries in the machine, within an hour. I read and reread the instructions several times.

But would it work? No! No signs of life or activity.

Finding someone to help will be difficult, and I’m getting tired now after being up for over thirteen hours, so I’ll surrender, and give it a go again in the morning. I imagine it will be who’s all confused and is to blame. Hogwashville again?

I ferreted about and got a ring-pull opener can of Chilli-Con-Carni. No ring-pulls on the red beans, so I tried the new opener again, no luck.

Tried the old-new electric one, no luck either, dead as a do-do!

Desperate times call for desperate measures. So, I tried the new one again, but nothing happened, I think that the batteries should be good, I only bought them last month?

I was really in a frantic state now, so I hunted around and found the old tin hand-opener. It was a real struggle, it only part opened the can. So an old knife was utilised, to free the red kidney beans from captivity, but it cost me two little cuts on the jagged edges of the can. They were that tiny, I was surprised they bled at all.

Still, I pressed on and got them in the saucepan with some boiled potatoes and the chilli. Then I added some Squid and balsamic vinegar, and made some gravy (Well Oxo), and gave it all a good stir and agitationalisationing. Hehe! 

The landline burst into ringing and flashed. It was Sister Jane, that was nice! News that Pete was at the City Hospital having is radiation assessment, and they told him he was making OK – Music to the ears! We started to have a chinwag, but Jane had an incoming call from Pete came in and had to ring off. Or as HRM would say, Orf! Hahaha!

I got back to CorelDraw, still, I haven’t got the graphics done, it’s been a little busy today.

As I was listening to the comforting sound of someone banging about,  the door chimes rang out.

It was an Amazon delivery. I knew what it was, the Pimms and lemonade drinkies, I intend to slip to Jenny, Doris and Frank. Also to callers, delivery people, medical staff etc. as a thank you treat, towards Christmas.

The first photo I took of it, I missed most of the box, the balance went, but I was so conveniently placed at the time, it was easy to steer my falling body into the swivel chair, bit of luck there!

All okay in a couple of minutes. And I took a photo of the Pimm’s canned treats. I must look up what Pimms are, they have a 5.09% content, whatever that means,

I nipped through to the kitchen to check on the Chilli-con-Carne, but now I have to get the Pimms sorted, so I turned off the heat, just my luck!

However, the food looked good!

Oh, flipping heck, the door-chimes rang again! It was Josie this time, bringing her Sunday dinner things back. She said she enjoyed the potatoes, very nice and cheesy! I told her that’s good. I like to hear I can get something right. Hehe!

Put the things away and got back to CorelDraw, not that my concentration was any good. So tied and unfocussed again.

As promised, by the gastroenterologist, proctologist, the supply of the inside the underpants pads had been delivered.

All three of them! In a Tena sample bag. Considering that I use, on average, nine PPs a week, these are not going to last long are they. But at least they are trying to help me.

I was beyond doing any graphics and decided to get the meal reheated, and get some rest and possibly even sleep.

Hahaha! As if! It was another (albeit unexpected) belated Amazon delivery.

I got the box inside; the delivery driver had long gone by the time I got to the door, I’m getting, like I do every day now, weary, slow-moving and slow-witted, and can only think of food and Sweet Morpheus.

I’d forgotten all about the shoes I’d returned. These are the replacements and look like the right size this time, but we’ll find out later, I’m too tired to muck about with them now, the meal and recliner await my attentions.

That is if the phone and door chimes let me!

Off to get the fodder sorted out, back in the morning, or evening.

I had a bit of fun setting out the CCC meal, using the potato letters. Hahaha!

A flavour-rating of 7.8/10 given.

No sooner had I done the washing and got down in the c1968 recliner, and got the TV on to watch a Kitchen Nightmare, the minute-long nodding-offs began. I found getting off amd staying asleep difficult, but manages it… Zzzz!

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

Cor! ♥

Sunday 15th November 2020

Hawaiian: Lāpule 15th Nowemapa 2020

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Depression Returns – Well, at least fed-upness!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What next!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchcock Today – Thursday 12th November 2020: Woke up to a Mystery Thud/Clunk on the outside wall? Ah,-well!

A TFZer bounds out to greet the morning! ♥

Thursday 12th November 2020

2020年11月12日,星期四 – Chinese Simplified

Coronavirus Competition we can do without!

01:00hrs: What an awakening that was! I’d just woke, and found myself hanging half-in, half-out of the c1968, rickety recliner, and considering various questions as I posed them to myself? Whether to bother with life or not, if I do, what’s waiting for me? Depression? Accifaupas? Whoopsiedangleplops? I didn’t get any further, cause… There was such a loud sort of clunk come thud, it seemed like an eagle, pterodactyl, or something had flown into the flat wall?

I forced my enormously overweight body from the seat, caught my balance, grabbed metal mickey, and made my way into the balcony to have a look around to identify whatever had clouted the wall. I had to divert to make use of the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) Surprisingly, of the SFS (Steady-Flowing-Stream) variety.

I got into the balcony, but despite all of my honed Sherlock Holmesian skills, could see nothing that might have caused the thud? This will have to remain another mystery of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me! Hehehe!

I got the health checks sorted out. The temperature using the new thermometer, but on Body setting, as opposed to Surface, was much nearer the mark.

The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer still gave a high SYS reading of 168, but it was down from yesterday’s. I think I have Jenny to thank for that, in sorting and actioning a taxi to fetch the Dioctyl® capsules for me from the chemist. Also sorting out the Furesomide tablets, that I discovered are taken for multiple ailments. The water release I knew of. But didn’t think they were for High Blood Pressure too! Deep vein thrombosis. pulmonary oedema, or fluid buildup inside your lungs. (I’ve got em all – I am greedy!) You live and learn! ♥ I’m back on them again now. I took a colourful shot of the morning view.

I got the medications taken, and worked out a plan of how I can avoid missing off taking the Furosemide, and Warfarin. I’m going to keep them along with the Enoxaparin hypodermics and Macrogol. On a tray on the clothes airer! Then when I get up, I’ll see them when I go for the morning wee-wee. At least I hope I will! Cunning, eh?

I made a brew and then had a reread of the NHS Government’s six-page of A4 instructions, again. I’m afraid the concentration was not back to normal yet, after yesterdays nauseating, vexing mental-struggles over the problems getting the medications. (Thankfully, Jenny got it sorted for me)

After many hours of faffing about, going from one thing to another on the computer, and forgetting where I was, and even why I was doing something, I got the template finished for today’s blog, and the photos uploaded.

Then I got started with finishing the Part-one Wednesday post. Next started the second-part of the Wednesday blog. That took me many hours, and much anguish, as well. Still, gorrit down eventually.

The time had flown, and with the Iceland delivery due to arrive twixt 08:00 > 09:00hrs, I had to get the ablutions done in time. So, off to the wet room and a stand-up ablutioning session. Too early to use the shower yet.

 

Ablutioning Report: Crap! Dropsies! A tumble. Throne needed, not as bad as yesterday, but not much in it. It was bleeding far less. I’m not feeling so good at the moment.

The Iceland delivery man arrived. He threw the bags part of the way into the hallway for me.

I got them moved into the kitchen, a couple of bags at a time. I was beginning to struggle a bit again, Dizzy Dennis and a few Balance-Loss-Barry’s. Not good, but I half expected it after yesterdays rum do.

I had to nip to the wet room, and I did an excellent job of hitting my right knee on the edge of the door going in. Which made a nice change for me, cause it’s usually leaving the wet room when I clout myself. Haha!

It seemed for all those bags; this was only a small order? Hey-Ho!

I got the things put away. Then took some thank you treats, down to Jenny, Doris and Frank, for her caring help yesterday. ♥ I’ll get told-off later I’ve no doubt. Hahaha!

I returned to the apartment and made up a Morrison order for next week, while I can get a slot. All done and confirmed for Tuesday twixt 13:00 > 14:00 hrs. I added it to the Gooogle calendar.

Carried on with updating this blog, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were bothersome. So much so, that I gave up, and sorted some meal prepping.

A can of Morrison Savers Chilli-con-Carne, and added some gravy and a tin of chopped tomatoes to it, then some of the Squid sauce/vinegar, and a drop of light soy sauce. Gave it an eager stirring.

The landline burst forth, it was Jenny, on a mission to tell me off for giving her the treats. At least they were used, Doris mostly, she loves her plonk, as is very welcome to enjoy it. Jen and I had a natter, but I was missing some bits of it afterwards. I fear that the fuzziness is returning.

My best job I think would be to get the nosh, and settle to eat, then some rest and hopefully kip. I’d set the timer to remind me to put the part-baked rolls in the fridge… fridge? I mean oven and got it warming up.

I reckon there’s summat else wrong, unknown to me. I’m buggered again, all in? Ah, well, I just hoped that whatever clears soon. It might just be old age, though… I’m not too keen on that stopping. Har-har-har!

Hello, I heard a clunk followed by a knock (on the door if I’m not mistaken). It was another letter, come from Nottingham City Homes. It explained the difficulties they were having, and measures taken during this new lockdown. More bumpf to get confused with, but it was a to the point message and appreciated from this old geezer.

Guilt twinged a little when I noticed the small rubbish bags I’d made up yesterday, and left in the kitchen.

I got the part-baked rolls in the oven, set the timer, stirred the Chilli-Con-Carne, and hastened to pile the waste bags into the box, got it on the three-wheeled trolley guide walker.

I got the trolley out through the door (collecting another bruise on the right arm in doing so), and off to the waste-chute, deposited them down the chute, and returned to the flat, in record time. Collecting a bruise on the right elbow as I struggled back into the apartment. Still, it helped focus the mind a bit. Hehehe!

I’d not put the oven on high enough heat. So turned off the timer, and took this photo from the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window and then got the Chill into the serving bowl, and the saucepan rinsed and into the sink to soak.

Added the cobs from the oven. The burn I got on the right knuckle, was of no concern, for once Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the right time, I felt no pain at all!

I’d love to write a story about Peripheral Neuropathy and its sometimes amazing quirks.

Settled down to eat the meal, noticing that my adding the canned chopped tomatoes instead of beans, gave it a different flavour, but just as palatable. It was nice. I gave this one a Taste-Rating of 7.5/10. I have to say, the Morrisons tinned new potatoes, were a great disappointment. I’ll go back to the cheaper variety on my next order, or use fresh ones.

I took the evening medications, applied the Phorpain gel, and had a wee-wee, checking the chart.

Pleased to see that I’m on level 4.

Lighter than of late,

Such is my fate,

It’s looking good, mate!

But, wait…

I waffle again, I am in a state!

I’ll have a Marmite sarnie, to compensate,

For my loss of sanity… Oh, I’ve just dropped my plate!

Hey-Ho! Cheerio! Off to sleep I go!

Inchcockski – Sunday 8th November 2020: A mentally differentiated day, but from what? Beats me!

TFZers Hideaway?

Sunday 8th November 2020

German: Sonntag, 8 November 2020

00:05hrs: The usual waking up wanting a wee-wee, with the innards warning me of an upcoming eruption from the innards, via the rumbling, grumbling, and quaking of the skin, literally making the folds of flesh hanging from my belly, shake, as the escapages of wind torrented away. Not only painfully, but even without my hearing aids in, I could hear the almost-musicals tones of the concinnity of the concert of escaping wind, too!

Then, as the mind gained some weak form of control over its own thoughts, the challenge of removing the bouncier than ever, bellied-body from the c1968 recliner was tackled.

A job that this morning, needed a man of steel, heroism, guts, bravery and determination to achieve; but being as I was the only person here, I had to do it myself. (Hehehe!) Clambering up onto my feet was completed with some degree of ease, but getting and keeping my balance, was a smidge difficult – even though there were no Dizzy Dennis, or Wobbling William’s bothering me.  A bit worrying, that was. I took my time patiently and eventually was ready to set off for the wet room.

The wee-weeing caught me out; it was a lot more dynamic than of late (which is a good thing), and of much greater duration! The colouring put me up in the ‘Fair’ zone on the NHS Bladder-Infection grading card. And, there was no Post-Micturition After Dribbling. (It’s [Fate], doing it again, to me, fooling me by slipping in some good luck, or mock improvement medical-wise, early in the day – experience knowing full-well I’m going to suffer later) – it’s so cruel! But I wasn’t going to go into any semi-contentment or smug mode. I’m not being going to be conned again! (Well, I might be)

As I was washing my hands after taking the leak, I knocked some bits off of the floor cabinet, and I returned to the front room, to get the long picker-upperer to reach in the corner behind the loo, where the Germolene tube and Hearing-aid oils had rolled. Tsk!

I noticed how the bruise or underskin bleeding, (Which is a bruise, I suppose – waffling again, sorry!), on the back of the left hand, was getting less darker, so it might be clearing itself up? Not any pain from it, unless I bang it against something, which if not in my plans. Hahaha! 

Back to WC room, reclaimed the dropped items, and off to the kitchenette, to get the kettle switched on. I peep out of unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking windows revealed a fog-and-a-half had descended. I got the Nikon camera and took a shot of the view.

Health Checks: the sphygmomanometer showed the SYS had shot back up after yesterdays respite. Now at 174, Tsk! Took the medications with spring water and then, made a note to remind me to email the Doctor later, because I need to ask about the DioctylPoo-Softeners got the thermometer into use to see if the temp had gone up any. Medications, brew and computer on and photo downloading.

As I was taking a photograph of the morning fog, a summoning came to the Porcelain Throne. To which I hastily replied with a swift, fast, hurried lightning-like rush to the WC… Well, something like that, at least I hobbled hastily there! It seems that Constipation Konrad is losing the battle again, and Trotsky Terence was in command of this visit! It will be difficult to express the changes to the nurse; each time, from one extreme to the other, I can get easily discombobulated, you know!

I cleaned up, it was a messy one; and went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And jolly decent it was.

Seeing the Chilli Con Carne cans there on the counter, I swiftly went into my Sherlock Holmesian Mode: I carried out a search and Chilli-Con-Carne shortage investigation.

I felt sure that I’d ordered three Hubbard’s cans from Sainsbury’s, and three from own label from Morrisons. I know that the Iceland shop didn’t have any of the Princes that I wanted, that bit I can recall. But: Did I put the cans somewhere else than in the kitchen? It’s possible, I suppose? So I had a reconnoitre in the other room. A degree of ferreting about produced a carrier bag, with a tin of Princes Chilli-Con-Carne, and Italian beans, and some packets of instant potato powder? And a puzzled expression on my face.

My total failure to find out what the mystery of the missing cans of Chilli-Con-Carne riddle was, Back to the computer, and bless their crooked cheating, incapable souls, Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet went down!

I made up an Iceland order. For Thursday 12th November 08:00 to 10:00hrs. Unfortunately, they have no Chilli available, Tsk! Never mind, if I can get out one day, I can call at the Poundland shop to try and get some of their cheapos.

Time to get the Ablutionalisationing done now. The session did not go too well… (Understatement time!)

It was SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) who made the first attack. (I pictured her success here on the left) I had to admire her cunning, it was the only shake she gave me in the wet room, and her timing, just as I was about to pull the old razor down my cheek, was perfection. If I’ve got to have ailments, it’s a comfort to know they will keep me on my toes, although I got caught out well with this five-second-shudder! Globdangnations!

An absolute cracker of a toe-stubbing in the shower against the chair. And nearly, but not after-all, toppled over when I hit the doorframe coming out. Not even any bruises came up, a bit of a powder-puff effort.

Got many bags of waste sorted out, onto the three-wheeled-walker guide.

Took them in a box to the waste-chute room, without any incidents or damage. Slight-Smug-Mode adopted!

I popped down to Jenny’s with some treats the three of them for the weekend, and back up to the flat. Then I made a brew of the beloved Glengettie tea.

Made a start on prepping Josies ~Sunday lunch. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters played up, I wasn’t far off of cutting myself on the opener blade, but managed just to let it fall, and nae bother. No opening of the Tuna tins after that, just in case. So I got the battered cod sticks and smoked haddock filled fish cake, and got them in the oven cooking for her. She likes the tuna as well, but too risky as Nicodemus is at the moment, I nearly cut myself slicing the tomatoes, but luckily it was only the fingernail that was sliced. Phew! Risky work this cooking today, Hehe!

I got Josie’s dinner finished off and delivered it to her door, a little late today, 12:10hrs.

I had a bit of a nasty turn as I pressed the bells on the door. Dizzy Dennis, Head-Spinning Spiros, and Balance-Loss Lesley. I wasn’t completely with it by the time Josie answered the door. I think I was only there a couple of minutes, but many blanks in the memory box of what we spoke of.

As I was, for some reason struggling to get in through the doorway, it was as if someone had put the lights back on in my head; My balance returned, Dizzy Dennis disappeared, leaving me a little puzzled as to what had just happened? Looking back at the day, it’d been an odd-one in many ways. Hey-Ho! All fine now.

But I must try to resist going into these stupid ‘Disaster-encouraging’, misleading, Smug-Modes! It only makes the guaranteed cock-up, mistake, error, loss-of, picklement-coping, Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpa, or incoming bad news, far worse to cope with ulteriorly.

I gave-in to, defeated by the sudden wave of Thought-Storms, and turned off the computer. Then opened the can of Churchills 5% beef Spicy Chilli-con-Carne, and added the remaining left-over peas from Josies’ nosh to the mix, and added a little gravy as it warmed up.

As it heated, I did some half-hearted, Stroke Recovery exercises, (Feeling guilty for not doing these more often), hoping this would help bring me into a more relaxed and contented mode. I was seemingly doing well with them… until Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, landing luckily on the plastic waste bins.

This put an instant end to any ideas of work-outs.

Getting back up was horrendously difficult, and I was close to having to press the wristlet alarm. But, somehow, I managed to crawl on all fours to Metal Mickey, and used him and the worktop to regain my stance. The mess I’d made of the waste bins was of no concern to me at that time, I was well miffed!

I got the part-baked baguette in the oven, and out some Phoirpain gel on the knees and bruises while it cooked. Took the evening medications, then got the meal served up.

This ‘Spicy’ Churchills Chilli-con-Carne, was the mildest I’ve ever tried, so much so, that I added and stirred in some chilli powder to the mix? If I can ever get to town again, I hope that the Poundland shop will have some of these in stick, or even stock.

I got the fodder consumed in its entirity, to satiety, and settled in search of sleep.

But, Sweet Morpheus was not playing fair, and the exasperating Thought Storms invaded again. Crigglebogsnot!

Finally, I drifted off. Only to be woken by I know not what, two hours later!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit!

Inchcock – Sun 25 October 20: I floated from neurasthenia, utopia, depression and slothfulness. Worra day!

TFZer Keith: ♫ ‘Home, home on the range…’ ♫ Hehehe!

Sunday 25th October 2020

HMONG: Hnub Sunday 25 Lub Kaum Hli 2020

03:15hrs: I stirred into ersatz life, with the Thought-Storms that had made such a mess of my getting to sleep, still active, nae, rampant in the grey cells! Fungleboggles!

The new pain in the stomach area where I injected last night was stabbing away at me, although it could have been Anne Gyna, it’s hard to tell at times. I wasn’t Duodenal Donald, I’m sure.

I was busy trying to ignore the fears, hatreds and overwrought distracted thoughts milling about in my bonce, and help soon arrived in the form of a sudden and critical demand for the Porcelain Throne to be utilised.

I could sense the urgency, and feared that an embarrassing escapage was likely! Responding, by going into a semi-panic-stricken mode, a caution to the wind attitude was adopted, and I flailed about, knocking things off of the ottoman as I hauled my fat-fleshy, flaccid, flexuous, floppy, stomached heavy body onto my feet, got some balance, and was off to the wet room.

Hastening into the Throne-Room, the shoulder came into contact with the door frame, giving out a sicking crunching noise, and a jolt of pain! But this was not important at the time, getting the jammy-bottoms, and my bum on the toilet in time was more urgent (at least it took my mind off of the new stomach stings, Haha!).

This session was a real different one this morning, good and bad changes! Things flowed, to the accompaniment of the longest wee-wee I’ve ever had! The putrid aroma filled my lungs; the evacuation was over in a minute or so. Gawd, it was messy! It was a good job I have plenty of toilet paper in stock! The wee-weeing continued? Hard to tell really, but I do believe the wee-wee colour was lighter, at last! The gungy mass of stool filled the bowl so much, the wee didn’t have anywhere to go, and floated atop! Still, it took my mind off off the crunched shoulder and stomach pains for a while!

The tank had to be flushed twice to clear things, refilled by hand from the jug and sink. Then I had a soapy washing up, bleaching and sanitisationing session. Time for a feel of the shoulder, which the Accifauxpas did not set SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off?

No idea what it was on the arm, but I went to put some Savlon on it, and the lighter brown marks from this mornings clout into the doorframe, (I thought), nearly all disappeared, sort-of washed off?  Just the bluey-red bruises underneath left now. Logicality, common sense was questioned, and a certainty that the end is nigh for my limited remaining scraps of judgement and level-headedness! This ought to put on telly; there’s bound to be someone who can save my sanity and tell me what happened?

I now had mixed feelings. Glad that Constipation Konrad had been beaten at last – but this has taken some time and effort: Nine days of the four-a-day Dioctyl® stool softeners. The week of MacroBid® UTI antibiotics and several meals of Chilli-Con-Carne. Hahaha!

I was not looking forward to doing the injecting of the Enoxaparin, so got it dealt with first! The new hypodermic needles, which I suspected would have longer needles, didn’t! That was a nice discovery, a glimmer of luck at last?

All went smoothly, and the old Medical Sharps bin, was too full to use, so I started the new one-off. This made me think about getting rid of them. I looked it up of the NHS site. This is what I found.

All confused now! I’ve re-capped the mall! I’d better get them all out and sort them, before getting rid of them to the Pharmacy. I’m certain that the Nottingham City Council do not collect them, or there would be a special, dedicated box for them at these old folks flats?

Nope! I can’t open the box’s to get them out. Another plan goes to pot! And the shoulder is starting to smart now! Grumptiville! 

Ah, well, I got the Health Checks done, the old sphygmomanometer is still working. But the SYS is still too high. I wonder why? (I sigh!)

The no-contact thermometer was used, and, I got the camera all ready, to snap it before it self-turned off.

Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on the boil, and took this blind-snap of Chestnut Walk in the dark, below the thick-framed, new windows, that is impossible for disabled folk to get to for cleaning, thick-framed and obviously designed by someone who suffers from a hatred for the elderly and gerontophobia.

Made the brew of the tasty Glengettie tea, took the medications and got on the computer. I last nights photographs to CorelDraw. I faffed about a bit, going from one thing to another again, but eventually got the Saturday blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Then Pinterested some snaps. Did some Facebooking, then went on the WordPress Reader. I found an email from Jenny, offering me some more yellow tomatoes, bless her cotton socks, she’s going to bring them down for me later today, bless her cotton socks. ♥

Time to get the ablutions sorted out, I took the mug to the kitchen and took a photo of the beautiful morning view, to compare with the earlier one.

Then, it dawned on me after I’d stripped to get the ablutions done. I’d not changed the timing on my time-pieces. So I did! I changed the clock in the kitchen, the wet room travel clock, the wall clock that fell of the wall and the casing broke, that is now balanced, resting on the fireplace top, but had a feeling I’d missed something, ah-well, not to fret.

So off I trotted (Trotted? Hahaha!) to the wet room, and had a marvellous session, mostly. There was nae bother from Toothache Thomas, and just three dropsies. The shaving had only two minor nicks, but several dropsies. The showering was the only blight of the session. I clouted the same wounded shoulder again, as I was coming up from retrieving the shower gel bottle (Six dropsies altogether in there). The showerhead escaped my clutches and landed on my overgrown painful already left big toe… Then bounced back up right into the cartilage-troubled right knees patella!

If I recall correctly, I silently mouthed something like “Tsk, never mind, can’t be helped!” (Yer!)

The doing of the medicationalisationing had only two incidents worth mentioning, I knocked several of the medications off of the floor cabinet, and clouted my head against the metal frame of the seat-raiser as I stretched with the picker-upperer, to retrieve the Germoloid and Savlon tubes. Gragnangles!

Got dressed and had a search around for the hat I went into the wet room wearing, I’m sure I did, but it’s never been seen since. More of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ They are working hard this morning!

I got the jammy-bottoms washed, all done, wrung and hung to dry, above the sink. Which proved later to be an idiotic thing to do, as I would need to use the sink while preparing Josie’s dinner! Crumpalisations!

The new pains in the left of the chest returned. I was surprised I noticed really, cause there are that many ailments having a go at me at the same time. The bruised arm, Duodenal Donald, the PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), The toenail on the left foot, and just started, Reflux Roger. Silver-Lining-Result-Search-Result: At least the others are being kind to me. Humph!

I got the fodder made up, it was not easy, because (Big mouth here) SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was kicking off, I was getting soaked each time I used the sink, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were letting me down. I was making more mess than ever before, and getting more het-up each time.

Still, Got it finished, it was just the thought of having to tackle all that was cleaning up afterwards that took the edge off what should have been my proud moment.

Pickled egg, silverskin onions, tomatoes, gherkins, sweet young carrots, anchovies, Tuna steak mixed with some balsamic vinegar and mayonnaise. And, of course, my world-famous, cheesy-mashed-spuds. I went the whole-hog today with them. New Zealand butter, sea salt, Squid vinegar, and parsley and black pepper, with just a drop of olive oil. I hope Josie likes them.

I got them delivered to her door, she asked what this and that was, and retired to feast on it (I hope). I got back in the kitchen and wondered who’d dropped the bomb, of course, the mess had been made by an army of contributors. Me, SSS, Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun and Saccades Sandra, to mention a few. Hehehe! But they didn’t help in cleaning up the picklement the kitchen was in, did they? Oh, no, that was left down to me. Swine!

As I had just got down on my knees to clean around the sink, where the dripping pyjamas had spilt over, and the door chimes rang out. At first, I thought it might be Josie with a problem or question, but no! I opened the door to see a wonderful sight! Jenny had been come up and delivered her treat for me, right outside the door; the yellow tomatoes. Double bless her! ♥ I don’t know how she got them so late in the year, but so appreciate her gesture. I got them in the fridge, ready to have later.

As I finished the cleaning up, Duodenal Donald doubled his determined damned pain giving efforts, and Dizzy Dennis returned. Tsk!

I got back on Computer Cameron to u[date this blog a little further. Then had a look for any new comments on WordPress. Two had come in, replied to them both.

Then went on the Sainsbury site, to increase my order for next Tuesday, of Chilli-con-carne. All done!

I visited the ‘Your Area’ latest newsletter.

Nosh prepping next, so weary suddenly. But it went well, but once again the various ailments meant me making a mess as I went along. Tsk!

Got the evening medications ready as I went along, and the plate of food served up. Not one of my tastiest efforts, but the Jenny supplied yellow tomatoes were great. I think maybe the Enoxaparin is playing tricks with my taste buds? Flavour rating: 6/10.

Got the pots in the sink to leave soaking. It’s the mess that the cheesy potatoes make yer know! I pretended to do some clearing up in the bomb-site (kitchen), but not a lot, in fact very little… well, hardly any!

The evening sky was worth a photo-taking, so I did.

None of the amazingly vivid colours of last night, but a blend of peaceful shades. And peaceful sounds good, and needed, to me!

Inchcock – Saturday 17th October 2020: Unsettling, fraught, bewildering day, mind you, they all seem like this nowadays!

TFZer, Wowser!

Saturday 17th October 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Október 17, Szombat

01:35hrs: I was oh, so reluctant and against rising out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, unstable, pukingly-beige-coloured, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. A stubborn dysania had me in its grip! A depressionalisticness hovered over me, and I couldn’t work out why? My EQ was telling me ‘You’ll just have to cope with it this morning, mate!’ My Thought-Storms were like bricolage, unstable, uncontrollable, not practical, bizarre!

  • As I was on the verge of accepting this insanity, the water-works began a little PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), which the PP’s contained efficiently.
  • I was forced to alter my priorities, and hasten out of the chair, catch my balance, failed at this, and plopped back down in the recliner. Doing Harold’s Haemorrhoids no good at all!
  • This caused a little extra escapage from Little Inchy!
  • I determinedly rose again, and caught my balance, this time, grabbed Metal Micky, and stepped to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Where the wee-wee, weakly sprayed all over the place, and it was the least I’d ever passed in my life, before it closed shut sharply, no after dribble? I’ve put more milk in a mug of teas, than what came out of my bladder! Must be the MacroBid® medication?

Off to the wet room to clean and freshen up, sanitised and disinfected the bucket, changed the PPs, sparingly used the Germoloid, and off to the kitchenette. The brain remained in a fog of sorts.

Another by-pass and change of plans, I had to go back to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne.

Aha! I think things in the Poo-Softening arena, are beginning to work at last! The Smug-Mode-Adoption was resisted – things go wrong too often for me lately!

The entire movement was quicker and smoother than in a long time. There was a bit of bleeding, but that I think, was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so is to be expected. The cistern had to be refilled from the sink and used twice to get the evacuated product to disappear from view.

I got the inspiration from somewhere, to make a strong-minded effort to try and get some photographs of the morning view, that would be better than my recent efforts and tries!

I used the Kodak, and toyed around with different option, hoping for at least some degree of improvement.

Another failure! Gangleboggleisations!

I was most disappointed with the pictures that I’d taken. These three on the right, believe it or not, were the best of them! And why did the last one come out in a different shape? They were so poor. I’d lost my interest altogether now! Humph!

I got the BP sphygmomanometer from the drawer, only to find that the last reading showed up when I turned it on? With nit much to fiddle with, I determined that it was either knackered, or needed new batteries, so I replaced the old ones with Duracell newbies. I tried to use it again, the same thing, just the old figures appeared, no blank start-up screen. I wanted to cry, but didn’t bother! I’ll see what Amazon have on offer later. A bit annoying, cause now I cannot keep my recording record up to date for the nurse to collect each month.

Ah-well, I’ll get the Thermometer going. But No! That was not working either! I thought it would be fun to create the little expression that I sometimes use, in fact, it was Tim Price from New Mexico who gave me the idea: The mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’. But this morning, I’m beginning to believe it could be true! 

I toyed with the ear-thermometer, but it didn’t have it. So, I got the stick-thermometer out and used that.  It worked, and I took this photograph of the result.

Then, as I was about to put it back in medical drawer number three, where it is usually stored: Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary, instant, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I found myself doing some ballerina type dancing, as I fought not to go over, and lunged at the stove to steady my balance. At that second, I felt almost proud of myself for going over. The head swanked a bit sideways, and I think a smirk came across my face, as I realised this was only a short leg-dance, of a few seconds duration, and I had prevailed!

As soon as I’d caught my balance and turned back towards the stack of drawers… I felt it as I trod on the stick thermometer! Still not fully back to normal, I got the short picker-upperer to retrieve the obviously now bent, thermometer. I tried to straighten it up to try it out, to see if it was still working. Dead, deceased – not a cat-in-hells chance! Now I was on a downer of great proportions!

To add to this sudden nasty depression, I’ve got to get a new sphygmomanometer and thermometer! Frangleklops, Thunderglobberisations and Knackercraps! I was feeling morose, splenetic and crotchety! Worse than this, my EQ informed me that I had more let-down coming! I found I was monologuing with myself, Duodenal Donald started having a go at me, and hearing aid fell out?

But cunningly, it did not break, and it’s part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, and scare the hell out of Inchcock, thus assuring him a life of misery, worry and fear!’

Of course, it could be the Lord, making my life this unbearable unlucky hell, so that when the time comes for me to kick-the-bucket, I won’t mind so much? The day must be close then. That’s kind of him.

I took the much-belated medications and got on the computer to see what Amazon has on offer thermometers and hemadynamometers-wise at a bearable price.  First thing I found was an email, telling that the order, which was to have been arriving Wednesday, then Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday, is going to be late. Hahahaha!

I found some fancy medical gear and ordered it.

Of course, the ‘Arriving Tomorrow’ can be taken with a-pinch-of-salt.

I had a ‘Your Area’ email, with the latest Coronavirus locally.

I got the Friday post finished off and posted to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps. Replied to some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. And as I went on CorelDraw, three things dawned on me: 1) I had not been for a wee-wee for hours! 2) Herbert was not making much noise, and 3) I’d had much hassle, I’d not got the ablutions done yet! And it was gone midday!

I hobbled off to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I tried the Kodak for the last time, to take a photo of the clouds on view. It came to pout all wrong again, compared to how it looked to the eyes, but then again, it could be the eyes, not the lens at fault?

I tried the BP sphygmomanometer again, not that I expected anything to work – and sod-me, it did! And I’ve just ordered a new one! But, knowing my luck, I shall still get the Amazon one, you never know what the aliens and ghosts are up to and planning in these flats!

Made the brew, and did a template for tomorrow in advance. And about twelve emails all came in at once! One was about the late, late order from Amazon. So, five days late, a proper date received… We’ll see!

I’ll check it out now. Whoops, this is not the original order I thought, but the thermometer order. Int life, confusing?

Shattered mentally now, I’ll get the nosh sorted. I think I’d spent the last of my mental energy preparing this dish. My taste-buds seem to have dwindled, but it still got a Taste-Rating of 7/10.

I got the things from the meal to soak in the kitchen bowl. And went in search of sleep.

Two hours later; mostly of suffering irreverent Thought-Storms, I still awaited Sweet Morpheous.

What a day!

Inchcockski – Fri 4 Sept 2020: Our hero Inchy, escapes from isolation! But it cost him dearly! Humph!

TFZer In his Cool-It-Cabin?

Wrath

Hahahaha!

Friday 4th September 2020

Latin: September 4th Veneris MMXX

00:10hrs:  After a reasonable, appreciated four hours of Sweet Morpheus, I stirred into imitation life, in need of a wee-wee. (Nothing out of the ordinary there, then, Hehehe!) 

I struggled a bit to rid myself of the STF (Slow-Trickling-Forever) wee-wee, followed by an even longer spell of frustrating AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling). I had to wait for it to finish before I dared move on. Humph!

I hobbled to the kitchenette, clouting my left ankle with Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, and nearly went over. Luckily, the door frame was handy for support. “Blooming good start, mush!” I said to myself.

Carefully, I got the kettle on, and the sphygmomanometer and stick thermometer from the medicine drawer. Aha, at long last, the low temperature had gone up! To 35.3°c. A lot better this was. But there was no getting too excited until the BP was discovered. That brought me down to earth again. The SYS was up to 167, ever-changing that is. The Dia and Pulse looked okay to me, but I’ll check on the web for what they should be later. Or if I can find where I wrote the numbers down. Tsk!

A had the pleasure of making a brew of Extra Strong Assam tea. I say pleasure because Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning. I still let the brew cool down a bit before indulging. That Sainsbury’s Jersey full-cream milk, expensive, but it tastes so wonderful. Naughty, mind!

I took the morning medications with another good gulp of the ineffective, defeasible, Peptac Antacid medicine because RLR (Rogers Laryngopharyngeal Reflux) was giving me some breathing difficulties this dark, dank, fine morning.

I’ve got the Optician appointment at 09:40hrs this morning, so I must have another early ablution session. I considered going to town afterward to the Poundland shop. Still, to be truthful, I’m a smidge nervous of going out after so long, even walking to the ophthalmologist, never mind catching buses to town. Mmm? I’ll decide when I get out of the examination room.

I pressed on with getting yesterday’s blog updated and finished. It took me five hours! Tsk! I posted it off, emailed the link, Pinterested some snaps, and onto Facebooking. They seem to have mended whatever was stopping me uploading to my albums, os I had two days worth to catch up on. Visited the TFZers and added a couple of graphics, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

The time now to get the ablutions tackled.

ABLUTIONALISATIONING INCIDENT REPORT

 Session overall rating 7/10. Good!

  • No calls to use the Porcelain Throne this time.
  • Had to be a stand-up session due to the early hour.
  • Toothache Terence was not pleased with my hurried teeth-cleaning! Drops of blood from the gums and much pain.
  • Shaving produced a few nicks and cuts; neck, behind the right earhole. A silly one last off, the left index finger, from dropsies of the razor and my swift, but stupid grabbing the Bic quickly as it fell. What a plonker!
  • The rear-end washing and medicationalisationing afterward went so well, I could hardly believe it. No bleeding from the furuncles or haemorrhoids!
  • The medicating itself was almost a pleasure today?
  • As I was ready to do the body spraying and after-shaving lotioning, etc., I observed how Arthur Itis’s patella was still bulging with the cartilage below showing through clearly now.
  • The old ankle-ulcer scar had spread out a bit, but it was still getting fainter. Almost artistic, as it moves up and towards the shin more and more? (Tate Gallery material?)
  • The body was still looking somewhat chalky-white, anaemic and cadaverous. But the Clopidogrel lumps, welts, and papules looked calmer.

The getting into the new PPs was easy as well, by the way, I forgot to mention that.

Off to the kitchen and put some potatoes in the crock-pot, and salted them with some of the sea-salt crystals, and set the low setting, so they could be cooking gently while I was out at the opticians.

It felt really strange putting shoes and socks on for the first time in yonks. Transfering the flat keys and card, bus pass, etc. to the oversized coat, it all seemed wrong, out of sync, somehow?

I’d decided I’d along Chestnut Way, then right, and walk down Winchester Street, to Mansfield Road and Sherwood. And catch a bus back up the hill. Got the collapsable walking stick in the three-wheeler trolly-guide.

I added some carrier bags to the trolley, as I planned to go in Wilko first. Down and out onto Chestnut Walk. Not many people were out and about, it was still early, around 0830hrs I reckon it was.  

I took a photo of Winchester and Winwood Courts. I didn’t notice at first, but the paramedics were on site again, which one, I didn’t know. By gum, we’re dropping like flies lately! Tsk! Despite my sadness in seeing the emergency ambulance, I pressed on casually.

I poddled along at a really steady pace, and took a picture of the obviously garden-designer corner of between Winwood and Winchester Courts, in front of the link passage between the building. No longer in use at the moment, due to Corona-19.

On to the end of the road, and turned right to go down Winchester Street. I was so annoyed to see a car parked right on the kerb. It blocked access for anyone with a disabled scooter, or Trolley-Guide from passing without having to go onto Winchester Street to get by, including me, of course. And I had to go blindly out because the view of any oncoming traffic was blocked!

All the memories of previous times this had happened flooded back to my mind! Pickleglobknobs! Boulderclumps! Brunglebogs! and Grrr!

Then as I stumbled my way beyond this car, there was some who had parked behind, and left no room at all to pedestrians to walk on the pavement! I hobbled down a bit and turned back to take this photo. Unbelievable! Cragknackles!

Then, doing me bestest not to get all rangled, or hot and bothered, I continued down Winchester Street, only to find at the end of the Muggers-Cut-through, so much rubbish! Bottles, condoms, fag-ends and packets, crisp bags, carriers and broken bits of toys, etc. scattered about.

But I also saw some white (weed?) flowers, that were seen in the middle of all the human detritus, crap, and litter. They cheered me up, they were so beautiful, delicate, and clinging to life. I wish I knew their name. ♥ Gorgeous!

*When I got into Sherwood, and onto Mansfield Road, I took a picture of towards, and away from the City Centre. I know I did, I’m sure I did! Details to come a little later in the diary.

I slowly had an amble up the road and ended up in the Wilko store. I did a search for some liquid funnels, but could not find any. However, being a controlled person I am, I did come out with £10.90 worth of unwanted, unneeded items. After getting to the counter, dropping my £20 note, then the bottle of scent crystals hit the floor, and the lady kindly coming round from the till, and packing them for me into the trolley. Fertummelt! Thank you, Madam ♥.

Up the hill a bit to the opticians! We have to ring the bell at the side of the door to gain entry. A good idea, it stops anyone without a mask on getting in! I was let in before I could ring it today.

Although I’d put in the last two hearing aid batteries, and got them in the lug-holes, hearing what people were saying was difficult with the mask on. A bit of guess-work and watch the speaker’s reaction techniqueing had to be adopted. Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehehe! I was seated, and the lady told me to have a rest for a while. Maybe the walk down the hill took more out of me than I thought – then I wondered how she knew with me wearing the mask? Mmm!

The paperwork was brought to me and we went through everything. Then I was moved into the other side of the shop-divider and was seated again. The ladies kept coming to me and saying something, I missed a lot of what was said, but they seem content with me. Then I went into the test room, and a young lady dealt with me in no uncertain fashion, not for her a sense of humour or a chinwag!

But no doubt she was under pressure, and to give her credit, she did a good job. She knew of my cataracts, cloudy vision and floaters already. I told of the changes since the last visit, which were; being diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, then the stroke, saccades, and diabetes. She was not impressed enough to make a joke or comment.

The eye test was done, all via computer and machines now. I had the first of the puffer tests; when I had a bit of bother with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley at the same time, and my right arm shot out, and I knocked over her tray of test lenses! Oh, dear, that didn’t impress the lady either! I’ve had a few Tuts’ thrown at me, but that one was the loudest ever. Oh, dearie me! More eye examining, and a second puffer session.

Then she told me she wanted to put some Mydriacyl, Minims Tropicamide eye drops in both eyes. This would help her to see behind the pupils easier to find any faults and asked me in sort of Herman Goering fashion if that was alright with me if she did the eye drop test. Was I going to say no? No chance! I’d annoyed her with not hearing what she was saying, knocked over her lenses, and couldn’t hold mu head steady enough when she was testing them, I was too scared stiff to even think of saying no!

After I’d agreed, she told me of the possible side effects: Blurred vision, feeling dizzy or faint, this may last several hours after using the eye drops. Do not drive and do not use tools or machines until your vision is clear again, and your reactions are normal. Headache, and feeling sick, but these should soon pass, but if you do not feel well, call the emergency services straight away. Well, that cheered up no-end! Hahaha! She put in the drops and told me to wait for them to work.

I was seated outside of the test room, and another young lady, very patient with me, came and told me I needed new prescriptions, and would I be using the old frames. No, I said. I told her it didn’t matter what the frames looked-like on me, as long as they were cheap and comfortable. She chose tow frames and got the paperwork done. £300 quid! I didn’t question anything, just meekly agreed. (I noticed later, there was +£52, for extras?) She may well have told me about this and I didn’t hear her.

The eyes were stinging, the blurred vision arrived, then the Sturmscharführeress lady got me back in the darkroom, and carried out her examination. ‘Everything is fine, behind the eyes!’ Thank you!

Out and got the paperwork and bill from the other woman. The right eye had got a little worse this time. Which I knew already, the peripheral neuropathy, the nerve problems and the stroke making things deteriorate more rapidly, I wasn’t surprised or worried, it was what I expected. I thanked them and they released me from the shop.

*I poddled to the bus stop up the hill and had a look on the SD card on the camera to see the photo’s I’d taken. A picture I took on the bottom corner of Hall Street, and both of the Mansfield Road photos, were not to be found! How? Why? What?

Had the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of me, now spread so they can get at me when I’m not in the flat? Scary!

The bus arrived, and I maneuvered the trolley onto the vehicle relatively quickly, a faint trace of a Smug-Mode was felt coming on, just as I was swiping my bus pass. Talk about the most inopportune time for it, but Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley burst into life, and the bus pass flew out of my hand, hit the driver, and bounced up and touched the roof of the bus, and fell behind the open door!

But it got even better, I turned to have a try at retrieving the card, and knocked the bag of shopping off of the trolley top! Argh!

A chap behind me, getting on the bus, shot to my assistance, and got the card back for me. (Bent and cracked a little now, hope it still works) Bless his cotton socks!

I felt, what’s the word, erm… muted on the trip back to the flats. The dizziness and cloudiness were starting, from the drops I’d just had, I think. I took the slowest ever walk from the bus-stop to Woodthorpe Court. I wasn’t ill or feeling poorly, I reckon it was with embarrassment.

I got inside and, for some reason, felt a bit betterer in myself? I got the magical disappearing photos camera out and took two shots with it.

Not that I expected them to come out on the card.

I was amazed to see when I got in the flat, to see how early it still was. With all of the farcical events, it felt like had been out for so much longer. 

Then I realised the wristwatch was had stopped working!

I knew some or many things were going to go wrong this morning, but I didn’t realise how severely they would be.

The INR Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic blood test results arrived.  The new INR level was 4.1, a smidge high, but nowt to fret over. I was surprised at the high dosages given for me. But, it is best if, “He who thinks but isn’t sure, no longer capable of logicality, and is uneducated, and probably in a muddle brain-wise, is advised not to waffle-on about the unknown and confusing aspects of life or death!” So, I’ll shut up. Hehehe!

I made brew of Thompsons Punjana, dropped it, cleaned it up. Got a drink of orange juice, and on the computer to update the day’s catastrophic tale of my escape from isolating. I felt a little down!

It took me hours to get this done up to here, and I had to stop, I was feeling proper-tired out now. I’ll get something to eat, it’s already gone my head-down time. Humph!

I got the meal prepared and served up, washed the dishes, etc. and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, and dined. Flavour rating: 7/10.

I took another wee-wee, and got the plate and tray in the sink to soak, and shot back to the chair, in search of sleep.

Zzz!

Inchcock Today – Wednesday 2nd September 2020: Vampired by the Nurse!

TFZers In the Cool-It-Cabin?

Wednesday 2nd September 2020

Finnish: Keskiviikkona 2 Syyskuuta 2020

01:25hrs: I woke, once again in need of a wee-wee. But my thoughts were of the worryingly crusty feeling from the PPs, no doubt about it, dried blood, caked on. Very gently, testingly and nervously, I inched myself free of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, and onto my feet. Caught my balance, and very cautiously, limped to the wetroom to sort things out.

I needed a Porcelain Throne session by the time I’d arrived got to the WC. But needed to sort out the ‘leakage’ first, so ended up unwisely, holding things back while I cleaned up the blood and wrapped and dished the PPs!

Removing the part-calcified haemoglobin was a smidge painful. (I’ll say!) I cleaned the area up quickly and got down to start the Throne session. Huh! Agony is the only word to describe it. But, it didn’t take as long as it has done recently but was a much messier affair. The freshening and medicalisationing was another uncomfortable job. As far as I could ascertain, Harolds Haemorrhoids and the big furuncle had both been leaking blood overnight. I’d determined, that the bluey blood was from the boil, the deep red was from Harold’s piles.

The Germolene and Germoloids creams were spread together all over, and much of it, too! I think I’ve ordered some of both creams on the Sainsbury’s order for Wednesday, next week. I got almost instant gratification when I felt the pain easing within a few minutes of ointments being applied.  Thank Heavens! 

As I wobbled to the kitchenette, I could have sang with joy as the pains from my rear-end, began steadily diminishing, and heaved a genuine sigh of relief.

I took a snap of the window, with the washing hanging up to dry on the curtainless rails. Got the kettle on and took a customary look outside for any signs of nuclear war, fires, or the Lord was returning. I spotted what I thought was a single star, and tried to zoom in on it for a closer shot. But it was not to be, it was a jet aeroplane, and being zoomed in, and with it moving so fast, and unable to steady the hands, I failed at three or four attempts to photo it and gave up. I’m not sure if you can see it, I’ve made the photo larger just in case you can. The plane is near the centre just below half-way down.

I got the Health Checks done, starting with the blood pressure hemadynamometer. Which was not good, the Sys was still too high again, at 161. The pulse and Dia were both okay I reckoned. I’ve stopped trying to use the new in-the-ear thermometer now. Too much bother, it rarely gives a reading in numbers, just high or low, anyway. Tsk!

The old stick one was working, and for the first time in ages, the temperature had gone up a smidge, to 34.7°c, not a lot, but at least up a bit on recent days.

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and took the medications.

Go Computer Cameron going, and used CorelDraw to edit the photo’s on the SHD card. This took me so long, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters didn’t help any, with the nerve-ends coming on and going off-line! Grr!

Many hours later, I’d managed to get the Tuesday blog updated, sent off to WordPress, the link emailed, shots on Pinterest, Facebooked a while, then made a start on this post.

The Vampire nurse is due, I checked the timing on the calendar, and guess what? I found an email come in from Sainsbury’s, telling me that the delivery today will be at 17:30>18:00hrs! Not only had I got the time mixed up, but I was seven days out on the date! What a proper Shmegegge! Fool! Twit!

Disappointed with one’s self, now! I set off for the wet room to get the ablutions done.

Showerhead

Not a single showerhead-dropsies! Yee-ha!

By Jolly-Jingo, that went exceptionally well! No hassle cleaning the teggies, shaving produced not a single cut or nick! Although a fair few dropsies of razors! The showering, despite the water not being too warm for some reason, went great! No showerhead dropsies, just the soap (2), loofah brush (2), and the razor (2), and a not serious at all clunk of the shoulder against the grab bar. Brillmagic!

The medicationalisationing, as was expected after the earlier bleeding, was done with great care, but inevitably the pain factor was not a good one. Overall, this session left me feeling salubrious, and in a Yellow Level ‘Risk-Of-Contentment-Mode’! Hehehe!

Unfortunately, during the drying off and getting the fresh PP’s on, I did clear some of the stuff off of the floor cabinet with the towel. But only a few!

I had to take four wee-wees during this session? All of them of the annoying piddly SWI (Sprinkly-Weak-Itchy) variety. The now wrinkled left hand, of its own accord, began to imitate a Mr Spock sign? Haha! The redness was pleasant to see, but it soon faded when I exited the wet-room.

To the much-used kitchen again, and made a mug of Glengettie tea. 

I took a shot of the changing morning sky, with its forming steaky clouds.

Then back onto the computer.

I found this unintentional picture as well on the SDH card. I must have taken it either getting to open or close the window, I suppose. See that? See how keen, alert and sharp I was there, working that out? Ahem! 

My beloved Vampire, Nurse Hristina, might come early, I hope. I had a nosey at the thermometer prices on Amazon. Ah, the Vampire nurse arrived! I was automatically cheered up even further! The gal was in a rush, I think she’s changed her route around so she could visit me earlier, bless her cotton socks! ♥ She soon had my blood taken, and off she had to fly.

I did an hour of sorting and trying to clean up a bit, but Anne Gyna began a marathon stabbing session, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) went full pelt at me for several minutes. I was done in, shattered, ready to drop.

So I closed the computer, got a drink of water and sat down, fighting the urge to sleep, in case I missed the Sainsbury order arriving!

I felt a little perkier and got up and sorted the PP’s in the wet room, restocked from the rubbish room. They look a little like they are not going to stay in place too long, don’t they? Tsk!

I spent a while sat on the throne, occasionally having a bash at the crossword book, and stewing over my never having thought that I’d end up how I am now. No depression mind, just a smidge of pathetic feeling melancholy, perhaps.

I soon came out of my mini-spell of the blues, as I rose from the plastic seat, and knocked some medications off of the floor cabinet top. Then hit my shoulder on the metal bars of the seat raiser, as I bent down to retrieve the objects. Thus, setting SSS off on one of her short Shuddering-Shoulder-Shindigs! Blockstooum!

Into the kitchen to take the belated afternoon medications.

The precipitation was falling with a particular venom when I got into the kitchenette. I caught a bit of the temporary gloom on offer with these two pictures taken from inside of the balcony, not wanting to open the windows and get wet. But the rain still came in through the gaps in the window layout and soaked me. Grangleclogs!

I then got the bags ready to go back to Sainsbury’s, and an empty Amazon box from the junk-room for the Sainsbury’s fodder to go in, as they are no longer supplying carrier bags.

I was sorting some graphics for updating on CorelDraw. Then took some treats to Olive, Limoncello desserts, G&T’s, some 99 calories chocolate noughat bars, and a packet of biscuits. She gave me a tray of green grapes in return. We enjoyed a little chinwag, and I went back to the flat. (All of three paces, Hehe!)

The intercom flashed. It was Sainsbury’s food delivery lady arriving. She was a cheery soul, and she mentioned some substitutes they had made, asking if they were alright, which they were with me (Surami Sticks, different brand). No lemon & lime spring water, or Sourdough bread. She soon had the things put in the box for me and put it through into the hallway for me, too. I slipped her a can of G&T, thanked her, and off she trotted.

I got the fodder through to the kitchen, a veritable feast of fantastic looking, but some naughty foods. A Smidge-Of-Guilt Mode adopted!

I soon got the meal made up, no cooking involved, cause the spuds were already done in the crock-pot, the left-over garden peas were in the saucepan. I tried some of both of the tomato varieties, both were decent flavoured. The grapes were lovely, not too sweet with a slight tang that I enjoyed.

I was worn out by then, I struggled to stay awake while I was eating the meal. Put the things in the bowl to soak, checked the windows, lights, stove etc. and got my handsome features, and muscular-firm body down belatedly, into the c1968, rickety recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheous.

But no success! It was hours before I nodded off. Anti-Inchcock Though-Storms being the main reason. Then I felt the need to put things to rights, wars, crime, Coronavirus… you name it! Tsk! Criggleblogsworthisms!