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!

Inchcock Today – Sunday 11th October 2020: The hobgoblins, poltergeist and Karakia entities ruled today!

TFZers Escape in the Woods!

Sunday 11th October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sul 11eg Hydref 2020

01:10hrs: I woke, early cause I’d gotten my head down early last night when I wasn’t feeling too good. But I must have re-booted the batteries while I was kipping. Because I woke up with a much clearer head, no SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) twitching and jerking, an absence of Saccades Sandra sight problems, and with a vastly reduced hassle from Duodenal Donald! So, health and ailment-wise, things seemed on the chirpy side.

However, as soon as the brain tried to analyse the needs of the day, my omnipresent, ubiquitous, pestering, irksome aboulomania, made the job hard work, nae, impossible. Josie’s nosh came into the scheme of thoughts, the change in medications, and the need to sort out and take the waste bags to the chute room. Still, little else would come to the fore of the reluctant mind (Which moments earlier had a mental list of to-do’s, that seemed to have now dissipated, and left me in the lurch, off into the ether?) I spent a while, pondering things over, with no decisions made, through a lack of further information being gleaned for me to assemble and make any plans.

The need for a wee-wee arrived, no rushing needing. I took my time disengaging my volumingargantuan-bellied body from the recliner, got up with a little effort, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Micky (the four-pronged walking stick), and poddled over the few steps to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and started one the longest wee-wees I’ve had for many a month. Of the COLD (Cloudy-Orange-Long-Dribbling) variety.

As I started to whistle silently, and cling desperately to the bucket, I realised how full it was. Yet could not recall getting up to use it at all? This often happens to me, but I never know or find out for sure if I’d been sleep-wee-weeing or not? I can’t see how I could have got up without the pain of the effort waking me up? Brunglebogs! Maybe I ought to get someone to fit a CCTV camera in the room for me… no, better not – in case I really was doing any nocturnal wanderings, oh, I don’t know!

When the trickling had ended, I put the bucket down, to let Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters regain some use. And a dose of AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling) arrived. But I got the handily placed bucket back up, and I avoided a minor calamity, mind you, I very-nearly dropped the flaming full bucket but can laugh about it now, cause I caught a grip, and the neurotransmitters were back working. So, a smidgeon of good luck there! But my EQ told me not to bother going into a Smug-Mode – Ominous that!

I took the bucket to get it cleaned in the wet room, re-disinfected it, and because of the EQ warning, I returned it to the main room, so it is ready for any urgent usage. I did not do any Health Checks or medical stuff but decided to get on with updating the Saturday blog instead. But only got as far as putting on the computer and booting it up, and the need for the Porcelain Throne was received. So, back to the wetroom, I limped. 

Sillily, I was feeling rather confident, after yesterday’s much improved, easier Throne session. But soon the pain and non-movement of old started, and I got out the crossword, believing I was in for agony and a long wait for any activity to start. At this point, I realised I had used the box as the doctor told me, to raise my knees when using the Throne. I put away the book, and pulled the box over with Metal Mickey, and lifted each leg into the raised positions… and ‘whoosh, thunder, pain, all gone, done!’ It was more painful than Saturdays releasing, but probably my own fault for trying without the box first? I am a fool! Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding badly, but a wash and the Germoloid cream eased things.

Back to the computer, did some comment replying, then went to make a brew, and decided to do the health-Checks etc. I made a sachet of Macrogol first, using warm water, and got that down me. Downed that and got the sphygmomanometerisationing! The ‘Hum’ all-around from outside, had now got an accompaniment of a new to me, whining, or whirring noise, that was coming from above? It could be coming from the waterworks pipes, that Jenny told me about.

My BP readings looked a lot better this morning.

Ooh! The stick thermometer reading was the lowest its been ever! 32.1°c! Surely that can’t be, right. Can it?

I’d better give it another go. 32.1°c? Off to the medical drawer in the kitchenette, and retook the temperature.

Aha, that’s betterer! That’s up by a whole degree on the first check, and that was only a couple of minutes ago? I’m confused and bamboozled again!

I got the updating finished on the Saturday posting. Despite Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media going down several times, for short periods. Thunderbogworthyness!

Posted it off, checked the Email link, I did the Facebooking, Comments and visited the WordPress Reader.

Made a brew of Glengettie Tea, and started on this blog. A few hours later, I went to have another brew, Thompsons Punjana, a bag of Frazzles, a wee-wee, hit the doorframe coming out of the wet-room, swore quietly, and went to make another mug of tea, cause by then the Punjana had gone cold.

I let myself get carried away when I had a read of the labels on the new cheap Chilli-con-carne, and the Princes, that cost three times as much as the Hubbard’s cans. (A Sainsbury’s generic brand).

The cans bottoms had the same markings, as did the bottoms, even the ring-pulls were similar if not the same type.

I was getting carried away here, and over-involved! It’s a fault of mine, you know. Hahaha!

They weighed the same as well, so I decided to have a perusal of the contents labels on the cans.

P: Princes – H: Hubbards. P: had 23% beef, H: 15%. Both had beans at 12%. H: Had 14% tomatoes – P: None.

The flavourings and seasonings varied greatly, a lot of salt in the P: one.

It will be interesting trying them out. I shall try the Hubbard’s for nosh today.

No bread to have with it, with Morrisons and Sainsbury’s failing to send me any, but that’s not a bad thing. Thanks to Jenny, I can chop up and add some yellow tomatoes to the can, and I decided to do some small potatoes to go in the mix as well!

It will be informative for me, if Tim Price in New Mexico, a cyber-buddy, and well known Chilli-Con-Carne Connoisseur, could advise me. Of course, he makes his own from scratch, using such chillies as, the Caroline Reaper, and the Naga Viper – which would most likely kill me if tried them. Hehehe!

I got the potatoes in the crock-pot, and put some Squid vinegar (they call it a sauce?) in the water, to marinate for a few hours, then I can turn the heat on later.

I’ve been doing so well this morning, and now Duodenal Donald is kicking off, and the typing is more error-prone than ever, thanks to SSS.

According to the latest official figures on the Your Area web page: Nottingham is still the highest part of England for new Coronavirus cases. With a 285% increase on the previous week! Oh, dearie me! Special lock-down procedures are going to be updated.

I remembered (It’s not often I that!) to turn on the seasoned spuds in the slow-cooker. Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Oh, back to the Porcelain Throne, I hope the extra Macrogol will help things along this time, here goes…

; Fantabulous! Brilliant! I pray this improvement continues; the pain was 50-60% less than a day ago! Not messy, and the bleeding was minimal – YEE-YA! Sorry, I got a little carried away and overjoyed there!

Jenny called me, bless her cotton socks. We chatted and had a mutual grumble while and laughed, we do that you know, Haha! I love it!

Off I limped to get the ablutions done. But, my aboulomania, indecisiveness, irresoluteness, and fickle equivocationalness had me washing the long-sleeved tee-shirt, instead. I got it done, wrung and hung over the kitchen sink in on one of the new coat hangers.

I then succeeded in getting to the wet-room, to carry put the ablutions at last.

  • Things started nice and easy, no toothache or gum bleeding! No dropsies at all!
  • I got the shaving foam on, and the razors out, no dropsies at all!
  • Shaving, a couple of tiny nicks, nowt worth bothering about.
  • Showering, it started so well, and it stayed that way, no dizzies, no hitting any part of my anatomy against the power box, or grab rails!
  • The drying off did present a few challenges, though. I cleared many of the medications, and some hygiene items off of the floor cabinet, when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, but even then, not all the way to the floor, just down on the kees…
  • Which prompted a change of fortunes! Long-suffering Arthur Itis’s knees got a bashing, thus so did I. Haha!
  • The medicating was going well, although I was struggling to get the cream onto the ankle ulcer, and cracked my right elbow a fairly decent wallop as I grabbed the cabinet to stop myself having another little excursion to the hard floor!
  • The medicationalisationing of Harold’s Haemorrhoids caught me out. I was going all careful and wearily as well, as is usual, and the sudden sharp pain was a mystery as to why? But by gum, it didn’t half sting for a while! I thought perhaps I’d used the wrong cream, but no, it was the Germoloid ointment alright?

But overall, it was an alright session, and a tumble or two, and a little bit of bleeding and pain, has never bothered a man of my calibre, I just laughed it off nonchalantly, being made of sterner stuff, like. (Cough, cough!, Ahem!)

All dressed, and it was time to get Josie’s dinner sorted out; But again, my dithering and cunctation, had me checking on the tracker for the Amazon milk sleeves delivery ETA, it was not good! I swear the tracker distance indicator is going backwards! He was closer last time I looked. I’m sure of it! Tsk! Which also reminded me of my particularly stupid habit of ordering things in duplicate – for I had ordered the Jersey full cream milk that arrived yesterday, and I’d forgotten about this order. Do you know, at times, I come out with the obvious, don’t I? There was no need to mention my forgetting something, anyone who knows me, knows this! Gragglewash!

I got the meal prepared, made a right mess that needed cleaning later when making the Leicester cheesy potatoes for her, I spilt some of the chives, cut my finger chopping the onion, and even managed to drop the butter, and dropped and broke the mixer bowl! I had to throw the butter away, it, unfortunately, it landed in the rubbish bin! Ah, well, Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit.

I took a picture of the view, and Josie’s plate of fodder. I left the mess I’d made, and got the tray and nosh om the trolley, and off to deliver it to Josie’s door. “That’s more than ever, now! You shouldn’t be doing this!” Well, that was me told off! Hahaha! We laughed, well, I did! I wished her happy eating, that’s why I do it. I do hope she enjoys it.

Again remembered something (Oh, Yes!), I’d put some of the Lego cards that Sainsbury’s are giving out, one for every £20, or is it £10, you spend. I shoved them through Malcolm’s letterbox, for his Grandkids to have.

Then not wanting to clean up the mess I’d made, I went on the computer to upload the photos I’d taken of the wonderful view and Josie’s dinner… and when it came to collecting them, this is what the Canon camera had taken; not one of each, but…

Five of each one! It was set on Auto as well? The next one I took when I got back in was when I got the potatoes in the saucepan with the Chilli and leftover peas. That came out normal, just the one saved? I added the sliced yellow tomatoes and some made-up gravy. I turned off the heat and put the lid one after stirring it well.

I got doing this post up and took a swig of the spring water & cordial, and the cap was dropped (fancy that, happening to me!), I retrieved the lid with the use of the long picker-upperer.

I had noticed, while down there under the sideboard… I’ll tell you the tale first, although I may have already mentioned it in another blog. About eight weeks ago, I was shelling some pod peas, and the landline rang and flashed. It was the District Nurse, and I was writing down what she was telling me, and found I’d taken a pod pea with me, opened it and found just three peas in it, and proceeded to drop them. Tsk! After the phone call, I got down on all fours, to search for them, but only found two of them.

Now back to the present, guess what I came across? Hehehe! The errant escaped pea! Talk about rock-hard! I had to laugh out loud, not that it is all that funny, but it tickled me. Hehehe!

I got CorelDraw, just as determined as I was fourteen hours ago when I woke up, to get some graphics done for the page headers.

My super 5g Nokia 2.4 dual SIM (GSM and GSM) smartphone that accepts Nano-SIM and Nano-SIM. Connectivity options include Wi-Fi, GPS, Bluetooth, NFC, Micro-USB, FM, 3G and 4G (with support for Band 40 used by some LTE networks in India). Sensors on the phone include a Fingerprint sensor, Compass Magnetometer, Proximity sensor, Accelerometer and Ambient light sensor. (Ahem) It was I reckoned, the Amazon driver bringing the milk to me. But understanding him was impossible, (Latvian or Polish) he sounded a little annoyed about something or other, most agitated. I told him, in as clear proper spoken voice; “I will come down to you!”

Not easy in my condition, but I hastened as best I could down in the lift, and to the main doors. He’d left the box in the outer foyer; it’s a miracle it wasn’t lifted.

I struggled back up with the walking stick and box delivered. Well, when I say delivered…Tsk!

Of course, there is every chance that the new intercom system isn’t working again, this had happened, I think, to Jenny, Rosie, Roy, Barry, two of my nurses, and others in the flats. But it never gets sorted.

A fizziness in the head came on, and it doesn’t help in the least; I wanted to stop and have a sit-down, a rest, but the graphics need doing still, so I got on CorelDraw yet again, in an ever more desperate, deteriorating state of health and gave it a go. (That should muster up some sympathy, Hehehe!)

I got one done, got the meal served up, still left the mess from cooking, and got down for a rest.

I do recall taking a photo of the chilli on the tray. Because the first effort was ruined by SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) having a go at me, and waiting until she’s calmed down and my being pleased with the second picture. But in the morning, both photographs had had it away into the ether – and they must have gone on the SD card, or I would not have been able to view them to find out about how bad the first one was? Cragnangles!

As I tried to settle, I recall thinking, did I take the evening medications or not? The head started spinning, and what the heck happened after that, I’ve not got the foggiest idea! But, I woke up at 01:30hrs, in need of the Porcelain Throne.

Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Today – Friday 9th October 2020: Faraway thoughts, Forgetfulness, Frantic-Panics, Frankensteinish-Fears, and Fretting, this Friday. Frumph!

The First TFZer Astronautess! Marie!

Friday 9th October 2020

German: Freitag, 9 Oktober 2020

02:15hrs: I reluctantly woke up, sniffling, and in need of a wee-wee. Bit of a struggle getting up, but I caught my balance easily, took the very full-looking EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) to the wet room, had a rather long, but trickling wee-wee, checked against the NHS colour code, I’m still at the number colour 6 on the card, ‘Very Dehydrated’. Washed and antisepticised my self and the bucket, and off to the kitchenette, to put the kettle on and make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea; first I’ll take a 100mg Docusate, with plenty of water.

No summoning to the Porcelain Throne yet, this bodes not well, and I anticipate that Constipation Konrad will be in charge when it does arrive.

I got the prescription bag emptied, and checked on the contents, and stored them away in their respective places in the medicine drawers.

The ‘Hum’ was heard again, of course. But it was not so intrusive this morning. Yee-Ha!

I found that the 100mg docusate sodium pot was easy to open, so that’s another good thing? Swallowed a capsule with a full mug of water, as instructed to, and then got the other medications out, and took them as well.

For some reason, the sphygmomanometerisationing, needed three goes before it operated, fault messages the first two goes?

The SYS had gone down a lot. Phew! Same with the DIA and pulse as well.

I had some difficulty in locating the stick thermometer. For some unknown reason, although there may be many to pick from; like memory failure, I’d dropped it and didn’t hear it wherever it went, stupidity and going bonkers are favourites.

I eventually found it in the first drawer I looked in, undoubtedly, the work of 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 pants off of me!’

The reading was very-low this morning, at a lowly 33.9°c?

I tried once again to get a decent nighttime shot from the kitchen window, using the Canon camera this time, but nope, it seems I have failed yet again. Humph and Spit!

Onto the computer, and decided to make a stand-alone Inchy’s 5th Escape’ blog of yesterday’s outing. And, Puggleclumpdimwit, Flagtoggles, and Botherations!, it took me five hours to get it started and finished! The flaming day has gone! What a lamebrain! Then is still needed the email link, Facebooking, Pinteresting etc. and I was mentally drained by then!

Now I faced finishing off the Thursday post! Another two-and-a-half-hours lost!

I made some brekkers (Last of the biscuits), no bath or shower yet, and I wasn’t too keen on bothering! What an utter twit! I went on the WordPress reader and got carried away, more time lost.

Took a break and got the potatoes cooking in the pan. Then, by the time I’d got the diary finished and posted, I’d been up for eight hours, and didn’t feel too good. Went to update the Pinterest photos, and the system was down Grrr!

Posted the blog, and went on Facebooking! Felt a bit strained and drained now. Went on the comments section, made a brew, started this blog off, and then had a right funny turn – what happened I’ve no idea, but I appear to have lost a couple of hours? Scary!

Found a note, and at the time I could not understand it, it read; Jen £10, thank for time?

+I went through the kitchen to take the medications, and a pan was on the stove, an empty Chilli-con-Carne (I thought) can in the bin, the I spotted the dirty great saucepan of food heating up. Where, how, who? At this point I dropped the tea caddy, as as I bent down to retrieve it, all became a lot clearer, but it was a scary few minutes. The door chimes had gone, and I got the mask on, and answered it, and found that Jenny had kindly left me some yellow tomatoes on the doorstep. I took them in, a wonderful gesture, bless her, and I went to add some to the chilli in the saucepan her. I was putting some of the tomatoes, quartered and in the pan, and the phone rang. It Jenny ringing. We had a little natter and, and thinking about this, brought back the old memory box a bit. I found a note on the back of the pad, why the back I’ve no idea, with ‘Jenny £10, 20th Oct. I put the date and time on the calendar, and it all came back to me. Oh, dear, oh, dear!

I’m stopping doing computing now, too confused. I’ll see how I go, might try again later if things improve. As I was about to close down Computer Cameron, I got this message come up!

Now I am in panic mode! Dare not try to restart. All het-up and bothered.

I got the meal served up, on the tray. I thought it was the mild chilli-con-carni. I added some of Jenny’s quartered yellow tomatoes to it, potatoes, added some gravy and Squid sauce, a (naughty) mini-apple pie. Cox’s apple, a pot of yoghourt (but later dropped and broke the pot, taking the tray to the recliner, more mess and worry!). And my evening medications.

It wasn’t until I took the first taste, that I realised, this is not chilli-con-carne! I’d opened a can of beef in gravy by mistake, and not even apprehended it. Sad, innit? Still, it wasn’t half-tasty, just not what I expected. This meal will not encourage Constipation Konrad to ease off, will it?

I went to move the lemon yoghourt pot away from the heat of the fodder, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters timing caught me out again, and the pot dropped, bounced off the arm of the recliner, hit the tray on the Ottoman, and off straight into the waste bin! Unfortunately, hitting the rim, and busting open as it fell in. What a state the carpet was in! I just had to try and clean it up straight away, fumbled about and made a terrible job of sorting it out, I shall have a reminder forevermore, in the form of a blotchy scar on the carpet!

Frustrated, for a moment, I had my own personal psychological mandemic! Hehehe!

Not exactly carminative, s originally planned, but, ah-well, I still gave the nosh a Taste-rating of 7/10.

I took the tray and cleaning stuff back to the kitchen, and I returned in hopes of Sweet Morpheus, helping me forget the disasters and mistakes, even if only temporarily.

As I was resettling my wobbly-melon shaped stomached, crumbling-healthwise body into the c1968 recliner, and threw the green quilt over the horrific sight before me, the feet and ankles came out of the other end as I got the pins on the chair. The inflamed ulcer scar seemed to be dying down a smidge, the feeling of maggots under the skin had disappeared, no new blotches, papules or blemishes were visible—the stinging when I catch anything against it, less far less bothersome. (At last, I’ve found something that is improving. Hahaha! 

It felt like I’d dropped off, and within seconds, the Thought-Storm-Torrent began. Fed-up? Me? Yes!

Inchcockski – Thursday 8th October 2020:

This TFZer can share me in her lens, anytime. Yee-Haa!

Thursday 8th October 2020

Croatian: Četvrtak, 8 Listopada 2020

22:10hrs Wednesday: I woke sneezing, and in the most significant panic. Maybe I had been dreaming, I don’t know, can’t remember, but, I was in right dithering, disoriented state of mind for a minute or two. Where was I? What time and day is it? Who am I? Have I kicked the bucket?  An unfathomable mini-brainstorm ensued. Ah, I need the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).

Slowly things came together, and I remembered last night, feeling so out-of-it, and getting my head down to rest and relax, I didn’t have a meal as I recall, but once the initial mish-mash of thoughts cleared, I did a survey of my health, mental and physical.

As I did this, the annoying ‘Hum’ from all around, droned on, getting louder all the time. Anyroad up, Duodenal Donald was still giving me some stick. My anamnesis of today’s visit to the St Anns Health Clinic came to mind, and I worked out that I needed to be all washed and ready, samples gathered, paperwork in the trolley, and out to the bus stop, by 0810hrs, at the latest, I didn’t want to miss the bus and appointment. So, did not risk going back to sleep, but rose from the depths of the unusually comfortable £300, c1968, recliner, for the habitual wee-wee.

 Releasing the WTPP (Weak-Trickling-Pale-Painfree) wee-wee, I remembered that I needed to take the filled-in record of my bladder and bowels movements or lack of.

But could I find it? No! Well, not for ages. I searched through the writing bureau, computer desk drawers, under the massive pile of ‘waiting to be sorted’ letters and mail, all without any success. Then, I checked the three-wheeled trolley guide bag, nope, not there! Going into panic-mode was an option. But I resisted.

The kitchen next, all the drawers (22 of them!), cabinets, cupboards and shelves! Though, why I would have put the paperwork in there, is a mystery, but desperation was growing,, and I was scouring through everywhere! Even the wet room was checked! Finally, I was moderately sure it must be in the front room, so I returned there for a further rummage around. Finding the outer-sheets, with advice on what I was to do, but not the record logs? Ah! the relief, when I spotted the required paperwork, that had fallen down between the little desk and cabinet! Phew! I got then enveloped and put in the trolley basket straight away!

Then nipped into the wet room for another wee-wee, which obligingly was of the almost normal SFS (Steady-Flowing-Stream) variety. Which enabled me to fill the sample tube for the Health Centre scans later. Belated Smug-Mode-Adopted!  I started to sneeze again.

I wandered off to the kitchenette, to get the Health Checks, medications took, and get the kettle on for a brew of Glengettie Gold. The SYS on the sphygmomanometer was pleasing, it gave 151, down from yesterday’s 178! The pulse was up, though, to 94. Tsk!

The stick thermometer temperature was well down, to 33.7°c. Ah, well!

I pressed on with updating yesterday’s Wednesday post. Achieving this within two hours. A curl of the lip, and Smug-Moded! Took the morning medications, no Senna or Macrogol took today. (I may regret that decision!)

I pinterested some snaps from the blog, replied to the comments, and went on Facebook catching-up. The WordPress Reader section next, there really are some great photograph sites posted today. Sent the Email link off.

Took a break, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, and made up the pot of Hoisin Noodles I bought from the bargain shop last week.

I shall not be buying any more of these noodles, I managed two mouthfuls but did not like them at all. Hey-Ho!

Then got on with updating the template, and started this blog writing.

Just about time left, to get a graphic done on CorelDraw, before getting the ablutions done.

Got carried away and left with a shorter time to get things done. Humph! The ablutions were a blur, I did them so fast! The legs and feet didn’t look too bad, apart from, of course, the pastiness!

Left things unsorted, and go the handwashing hastily done, rung and hung! In record time.

Got dressed and checked the paperwork, keys, mobile, bus pass etc. were going with me, and hobbled off to the bus stop, hoping I’d not forgotten anything. Camera in my pocket.

The Medicational Escape is a blog I’m going to make up as the first job in the morning about the escape and visit.

Here are a few of the photos taken on the way there and back home, all of the pictures can be found in the ‘Medical Escape’ post.

Link: Inchcocks 5th Great Escape

I caught the 40 bus back home, and I can’t believe how shattered I felt, drained, tired and weary! The feet and legs were painful, Duodenal Donald was still chipping away at me. This gerrin’ old is no fun! But not having to go to work is excellent! Hahaha!

I rang Jenny, we had a natter, which to me is invaluable. I can’t remember all we spoke and laughed about, but, it’s understandable the state I was in.

A Nottingham City Home directive had been hand-posted. A well-worded telling-off for whoever it is that’s putting wet-wipes down the toilet, and blocking it, causing a lot of cost in time and money putting right so often lately. Not Guilty at flat number72, I can tell you!

I had to try and stay awake, in case the prescriptions were delivered. I got the dinner sorted, and ate off my lap, in front of the TV, watching Law & Order with subtitles so I could hear if the door chimed went off. I must say, the nosh was one of the best for a while. The Birds Eye smoked haddock, and cheese-filled fishcakes tasted marvellous! The chips cooked just how I like them, too! Flavour Rating 9/10!

Unfortunately, being so worn-out, I fell asleep! It had to happen! I was woken up with a jolt, by the door chimes tunes, it made me jump, and the tray plate and cutlery was dropped onto the carpet and me, on the way down! Tsk!

I fought my way in a bit of a panic, cause I didn’t know if the chimes had been rung a long time, and did not want to miss the medications if it was them arriving.

It was the pretty lady from Carrington Pharmacy, Deepaks, daughter, I think, with the bags of prescriptions for me.  I thanked the gal muchly and gave her a bag of nibbles by way of my appreciation in them being delivered.

But I was not up to sorting out the medications at that moment, and I just took out those needed for tonight, left the others in the bag. They had delivered the new capsules for stool-softening, named on the tub as Docusate (Dioctyl), so I took one with plenty of water, as is recommended. I’ll take another on Friday morning with the medications, four a day the dosage, then I may soon be able to use the Porcelain Throne without going through the usual agony! Well, I can hope and dream!

Then I had to go and sort of the artistically made mess I’d made on the floor, foot-stool and recliner. Then, at last, I got stripped off, wrapped myself in the heavier quilt, and settled back into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner… and within seconds I was in a deep, satisfying sleep… Heaven!

Sob, weep, cry! The landline burst into action and woke me up. I rolled my body-mass, (and there’s a lot of it, I’d say 50% stomach!) free off the recliner, and got to the phone in time. It was the Doctors surgery receptionist, to advice me, that Doctor Vindla had sent the prescription to the Chemist, and I have to pick it up tomorrow. Great, will there never be an end to the hassles, jobs and medicationalisticalisations! Skulkclogglebonks! 

Still, I don’t mind in the least bit. Who needs sleep, rest and peace of mind? Certainly not me!

Inchcock – Wednesday 7th October 2020: The ailments won the day, Tsk!

TFZers in their Woodland retreat!

Wednesday 7th October 2020

Igbo: Wenezdee 7th Ọktoba 2020


02:40hrs: It’s almost like clockwork recently, the waking in need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne immediately on stirring back into imitation ersatz life!

I sort of found myself clambering out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, dusty, rusty, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, and on my way to the wet-room with Metal-Micky (the four-pronged walking stick), without realising I was doing it. Haha!

The movement was almost identical to the last few visits. I little nudge out, and a long, long wait for things to start again. I got the crossword book and had a go at it. The ‘second-wave’ came sooner than expected, it was the usual massive torpedo-like single dollop, but was much messier! It took ages to clean things up, and flushes were needed to get the ‘product’ down. The pain was not so bad, though!

All the while I was sat, I sensed the feeling that there were maggots or worms underneath the ankle ulcer area, and it then started to sting a smidge? 

When I applied some Germolene to the area, the cream seemed to melt and disappear. Some tiny new blotches were appearing here and there on the right foot as well. I thought to be more worried about the cadaverously welmish, ghostly, pale-looking, bloodlessness, really. I’m assuming, that I am still alive, cause I just hit my elbow on the door frame, leaving the wet room. Ouch… Hehehe!) 

I wobbled my way to the kitchenette and did the Health Checks. I was taken aback a bit by the BP sphygmomanometer readings, by gum, yes! SYS at 178, DIA was 93! That’s not good methinks?

The stick thermometer read a decent 34.9°c. I got the kettle on and took the medications from the medical draw no,3 (Hehe!) and made up a sachet of Macrogol, and added a Senna to the morning dosages, but I was not sure if I should take these or not, as the messiness of the Throne visit, had me in two minds?

Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and put the potatoes in the crock-pot, too early to put them on yet. Decided to take the Senna and Macrogol anyway.

I’m hoping that Matron Julie will be calling me on the phone today, I’ll mention this when and if she does ring.

I was a bit more concerned than usual, so did a search on Google, putting in; Sys178 Dia 83, and these graphs came up. Apparently, it’s 2nd-stage Hypertension. Mmm? I delved into the site. Got these snippets:

What is Hypertension Stage 2 Blood Pressure: Hypertension stage 2 is a chronic condition that is diagnosed upon readings that put a person’s systolic pressure at more than 160, with a diastolic pressure of higher than 100. Unlike earlier forms of hypertension, this cannot be treated solely with a change in diet, though that will help. Those suffering from this condition will often be required to take several different medications to keep this condition under control through the lowering of blood pressure. One important thing to keep in mind is that there can be absolutely zero symptoms for Hypertension Stage 2, which is why it’s essential to get your blood pressure checked on a regular basis.

Risks of Hypertension Stage 2 Blood Pressure: There is a myriad of risks associated with the onset of Hypertension Stage 2. For one, hypertension is a huge risk factor for peripheral arterial disease, chronic kidney disease, aneurysms within the arteries, strokes and basic heart disease. Those with this condition will also find that it can even lower life expectancy. There are also two different diseases that a person with Hypertension Stage 2 is at risk of developing if left untreated, including coronary artery disease and what is known as hypertensive heart disease.

Well, that cheered me up no end!

I got the updating done, twixt Nicodemuses’ Neurotransmitter’s failings, Duodenal Donald stagging away, and many wee-wee’s. Got it posted to WordPress, Emailed the link and Pinterested some pictures… and it was back hastily to the Porcelain Throne. It was a similar version as the first, same size and messiness, quicker, and far less painful. I allowed myself a little ‘Smug-Mode moment’! Cleaned up, changed the PPs, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea.

Back to the computering, finished the Facebooking update, answered comments and got on with creating the templates. Two-and-a-half later, I’d got two of them done. And concentrated on creating this post.

I stopped to have some brekkers. A pot noodle, a raspberry ripple mousse and a mug of Glengettie tea.

The ablutions next, slightly later than usual. Nicodemus and Donald had delayed me muchly with their interference on my computerisationings. Tsk!

  The right foot seems to have transmogrified again. Where the original ulcer was, has calmed down, well, in appearance, but the tingling under the skin remains. I’ve developed some odd shapes on top of the foot, and it’s getting a little blown again? Hey-ho!

The clean and srub-up were one of the best I’ve had for months! Naturally, there were more dropsies than ever, but that’s to be expected when Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters play up. Toothache Terence was not bad at all, shaving, as I mentioned tons of dropsies, but only one tiny nick! Not knocking anything over, and on leaving, I manipulated my way through the doorway, without any clunks or bangs at all! Smug-Mode, now upgraded to Super-Smug-Mode. (With a possibility, of my bursting into song at any time!)

I decided to go on CorelDraw to try my best to get some graphics made, but there was one Crap-Worthy thing that stopped my progressing… HieghtShorks!

Suddenly I’m just not well, no idea what’s causing the vagueness, completely worn-out feeling. Now, Duodenal Donald and SSS are having a go at me? Waiting for the Amazon and delivery, if it arrives in time, I’m going to get my head down! Huh! Reflux Roger has joined in, too!

I weakened when I saw the Drivers mini-silverskin onions, in balsamic vinegar & honey! By golly, they look and sound good! I’m out of bread with Iceland and Morrisons not having any, but this is a good thing methinks, with the dieting failures. Hahaha!

I must remember when I get the chance, to ring Jenny yo see if she would like some of these onions, I’ve a spare jar and lid washed ready, so I can put them in for her to try.

I’m not up to much, and I’m nervous of falling to sleep while waiting for the onions.

I’m not up to any meal making, but I had some cheese biscuits and a pot of lemon yoghourt.

The Amazon chappie cameth, and I got the jar stashed away.

And got me head down for a rest.

Zzzz!

Inchcockski – Sunday 4th October 2020: Worried

TFZer beauty, yeeha!

Sunday 4th October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Sul 4 Hydref 2020

0300hrs: By Jiminee, six-hours of Sweet Morpheousness! Good going that! If it wasn’t for the need of the Porcelain Throne, I might have had longer – cause the body and brain did not overly want or need to get up at all! Yes, dysania and clinomania (An excessive desire to remain in bed; morbid sleepiness) woke with me this morning!

But, as is usual, the urgency of a summoning calls to the Throne won the day. I rose hastily but carefully, from the c1968 recliner, caught my balance and with Duodenal Donald giving me some stabbing pains, I grabbed Metal Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) and poddled stumblingly to the wet-room and the Throne.

I got down on the pew, and the actions started immediately, and stopped, and stuck seconds later! The handily placed crossword book and pen were reached for, (You can always tell a suffer from Constipation Konrad, by how close he or she keeps the crossword book, to the loo, Haha!). I believed there might be a possibility of my busting open in the rear quarters, and the painful pressure grew ever tighter, but no action yet. A few minutes later, when the innards controlled movement restarted, things moved that quickly, I hardly had time fo give an Argh! Or swear, before it was finished, with watery-thud.

It took a few seconds for me to recover my composure. Gawd, that was agony-at-speed! I investigated the evacuated product, as instructed by the hospital, and had to break things up a bit, to get it to down the hole. It took several hand-fillings of the tank and many flushes before it disappeared. Worra life!

Some bleeding, but I’m certain it was from the bashed up and squashed by the torpedo on its way out, Harold Haemorrhoids. I got a good clean up and medicated with the Germoloid ointment, I didn’t spare with it either. Got the things back on the toilet top, got the new PP’s on, and needed a wee-wee.

And what a wee-ee it was, another of the quixotic variety, of the OSUAD (Orange-Sprinkly-Unpainful-After-Dribble) type. And the AMD (After-Micturitional-Dribble) went on, and on, and… Washed the hands again, and off to the kitchenette.

I put the kettle on and got on with the Health Checks. The SYS was still a bit high, but it’s up and down all the time lately. I’d like to know how, every single time that any nurse or doctor takes my BP, it is always, it never changes, comes out as being within range! Humph!

The temperature on the stick thermometer had gone up a tad, which is a good thing, cause it had been too low for too long.

I’ve noticed that this morning, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters have been trying, sort of going online and off, quickly again. That’s my way of saying that Nicodemus is to blame for my dropping the stick thermometer on the floor. I thought, well that’s done it no good! Surprisingly after retrieving it with the use of the long picker-upperer, I tried it, and it was still working! See, a Silver Lining can usually be found, if one is prepared to lie and cheat a bit. Hahaha!

I took the medications, including the Macgrogol, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I use a long skewer stick, to stir the tea with, and extract the teabag. I grabbed the bamboo stick, at the wrong, pointed end. The blood looked a decent rich red, not as deep at the haemorrhoids, mind. Hehehe!

I got the computer going, and thus began a journey encapsulating mistakes, errors, getting so confused and doolallying. The first thing was to create two templates—one for today and the other for Monday.

I uploaded yesterdays photos not done yet and spent hours cocking things up, and generally missing things off, and drifting into doing something else altogether, and getting back into some mock-form of semi-organisation… then drifted off of the plan again. Back to the computer.

I got the Saturday blog finalised, and sent off the email link.

On one of my ‘I don’t know how got onto searching the web, or what I am searching it for’ moments, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, joined Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and Duodenal Donald, in making my life rather unpleasant, and uncomfortable. I decided I’d have a break, and look in the fridge and freezer to plan my lunch later, Josies was already sorted and written down. And I found that my plan to not bother with any chips, fries or potatoes, and use the Farls and potato cakes, had to be abandoned. Thanks to Morrison delivering short-dated products, like Farls and Potato cakes. Grrr! Grobbleskankles! 

I went through to make a brew, Glengettie Gold, this time, and take a sachet of Macrogol, I even took a swig of the Peptac. Not that I imagine anything would ease of Constipation Konrad or Duodenal Duncan until they departed of their own accord. The murky morning, still managed to look beautiful though.

The first shot, I took while hanging out of the kitchen window, while balancing on the step ladder! Such cunningly designed windows, obviously by window manufacturers and builders who suffer from gerascophobia, gerontophobia, or maybe gerascophobia? Anyway, I wouldn’t please them my falling out of the window! La-la-la- La-lala! Gits!

The second one, I took from the balcony, which also, plainly designed and fitted by window manufacturers and builders who suffer from gerascophobia, gerontophobia, or maybe gerascophobia? The finger trapping and cutting spring clip opener, where you have to push and pull at the same time to open or close the windows.

They have even been times when the newly fitted window fell off the fitments while a tenant in Winchester Court was opening her window – but that’s been kept quiet. So I won’t mention it… Whoops!

Back I trudged, to the computer work. Got the link emailed, went on the WordPress Reader, and did some Facebooking catch-up.

I checked on Amazon about the progress of the items ordered. A pair of slippers, some kitchen tools to make it easier to open bottles, ring-pull cans and jars (I’m not too sure they will work, but one has to try), and some yogourt covered cashew nuts. The delivery of the nuts and tools showed as being at the flats.

So, I took a look outside and saw a van arriving, it must be the delivery! I positioned myself close to the intercom, ready to answer and admit the driver. Sure enough, he came a couple of minutes later, I buzzed him in, thanked him, slipped him a can of G&T as a thank you, and opened the box to investigate.

I soon got into it and took a decker at the contents. Would they be acceptable, good and reliable, what I anticipated? No! The tools were worse than the ones I already have, no instructions, of course. Ah, well, they were cheap enough! The yoghourt covered cashew nuts, were 75% yoghourt, finding any bits of cashew, was a bonus. Hey-Ho!

I went on the Amazon tracker to check out the ETA of the slippers that I’d ordered might be arriving.

Judging by the time it took to get from when was dispatched, I’d guess about 18:00hrs they could get here. These are the same ones that I bought n August, well not the same ones, but the same type. They are so comfortable and cosy.

Back on the computer, Pinterested some snaps and started to update the Facebooking, and the landline burst into ringing and flashing. It was Sister Jane, she is not very well at the moment. She has, she thinks got, or suffering from cluster-headaches. Poor things, it was a case of one of use mentioning something and comparing it with the ills of the other of us. Hahaha! I’ll have a look-up on the web later for these headaches. Might ring her back in the morning if I fined owt that might help her cope better with them. I’ll send Jane all the bestest wishes possible! She’s not a woman who moans, bless her cotton socks! ♥♥♥ And Pete can do with a boost, the handsome beast him, with all his radiation treatments.

I had to hurry a tad, to get Josie’s dinner done in time, but yet again, I was on the button, at midday, at her door, ringing her bells!

I even wore the Chefs Hat that Jae bought me for Christmas last year! I took a selfie of the titfer, but somehow it came out in monochrome? Another camera cock-up from Inchcock!

Anyway, for the first time ever, I saw Josie laughing out loud when she opened the door and saw me! She had a feel of it (No, no, the Chefs Hat I mean!), and was amazed it was real, she thought it was a paper one. Hahaha!

I explained about the changes to her dinner plate to her. Smoked haddock, mackerel in sauce, and her cheesy mash being with different cheese cause I’d had any come from Morrisons this week. She retired to have her nibble, and I returned to have a wee-wee.

I washed, put the kettle on, and as the sunshine was coming through, I went on the balcony again, to take some photos of the grand, lucky-to-have views.

The top one was straight ahead, the bottom shot, I took from inside the pod. We’re luck really living here… I thought this as Herbert came to life above. Humph!

I’ll try to get another template made up now, with some busy days coming up next week, it can only help to get ahead if I can. Fingers crossed.

The Amazon slippers arrived, and I went down to meet the driver. Met Peggy, doing her laundry. Took the bag off of the deliveryman, and back up to the flat.

I went on Google and found an NHS site, covering cluster-headaches. A  place for advice, with Treatments and explanations, anyone who suffers with them would find it of some benefit, I hope. This is the link address: https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/cluster-headaches/ I sent the link to Jane and Pete and tried to phone them both to tell them, but got no answer.

I was worried about them, even more now. As I got the meal prepared, I tried several times to get through without any luck. In the kitchen, I got an answer, from Pete’s number; The line was terrible, and I could not understand most of what Pete said, he was only on for a minute or so. But the tone of his voice came through, something serious meant he could not talk to me at that moment. I’m scared stiff for them now. No concentration, Duodenal Donald kicked off again.

Got the nosh served up, I didn’t enjoy the meal, although I should have, it was one of my better efforts, but fretting over whatever Jane and Pete, I could not appreciate the food.

Got my bones in the recliner, and lay worrying, with Donald having a ball with the stomach. Until I can find out what’s happening, it will get no better. Sleep was impossible, tried until about 01:30hrs, and got up to do some cleaning-up, to try to calm down mentally.

Inchcocksi – Saturday 3rd October 2020: Porcelain Throne agony! Willy nilly wee-weeing. Computer problems. Argh!

TFZer Entertainment night? Hehe!

Just cause I love ’em!

Saturday 3rd October 2020

Azerbaijani: 3 Oktyabr 2020 şənbə

00:00hrs: My expergefactor, was Duodenal Donald, oh boy, was he giving me some stick! (I realised it must be due to my hassle with the computer yesterday, it really got to me, and must have encouraged Donald to kick-off); so some of the useless, inexpedient, weak, and wishy-washy, but better than nothing. Peptac antacid guzzling, is my first job – after the regulation wee-wee, of course.

When I got to the wet-room, I felt the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne. However, things in the innards department were rock solid and after an age sitting there, produced nothing but the odd spurt of wind. And after a lot of time spent cross-wording, I gave up!

At least this wee-wee was of the PBOAN (Painless-But-Orange-Almost-Normal) variety. I gave-up on the rear evacuation, washed the hands, sanitised the touch areas, and hobbled to the kitchenette, in search of the wretchedly-weak, ineffectual Peptac antacid.

Diverted for another wee-wee, and brought the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) back into use. I didn’t need the EQ to tell me it will be required a lot today.

I downed a few swigs of the otiose, worthless, medicine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and took the morning medications. Then, with fingers crossed and a prayer, I turned on the computer!

: The computer and CorelDraw seem to be working correctly again. SO I concentrated on making up an in-brief Friday blog to replace the one that got gobbled up in the ether yesterday. Cry? Me? Of course, I did! I pressed on full of concentration and determination (but not a lot of confidence) and got it finished and posted off. Needing four wee-wees while doing it! Oh, dearie me!

Then I Pinterested a few snaps. Sent the link off, and replied to the flourish of comments, both of them. Hehehe! I’d just started creating a template for today’s diary, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arose again. Hoping for more luck this time, of I trotted to the wet-room. (The carpet is getting a little threadbare twixt the computer and toilet now, feet and four-pronged walking stick impressions all over it!) Tsk!


You may wish to avoid this description, it was so bad, I went through so much, I thought I ought to include it. Please go under the line below to continue. Sorry.

Utter agony! The movement began of its own accord. Everything stretched to what must have been the limit, and it would go no further! I even tried to push things along, which obviously brought more pain, and I could feel the blood flowing without having to check.

I got the crossword book, and spent half an hour or so on it, without any movement from the evacuation. Embarrassingly, I was so desperate, I painfully upped the PPs, and went to the kitchen and took two sachets of Macrogol in warm water, and returned to the Thone. Continued with the crossword, it took my mind off of the uncomfortableness a little, especially as I was doing so well with the puzzle.

The action started again, no input from me, and it was so solid and felt massive, then suddenly moved really fast. I didn’t think it could hurt me anymore than it was doing, but this rush proved me wrong… Argh! Oh, dearie me!

Silver-Lining Search Result: At least it wasn’t messy.

Danged ginormous, stinky-poo, and of toilet-blocking-worthiness! I had to remove the radio and paper from the top of the WC, to refill the tank, several times to get the evacuated product flushed away, I even used a wooden stick to break things up, and the skewer broke, such was the solidity! I cleaned the place, got a good wash and sanitised the touch-areas, and gave it what must have been the tenth flushing, the water bubbled up to near the top of the porcelain this time? But, it was completely clear of any matter, thankfully.

Thank was a right morningmare to go through! I swore to remember to take another Macrogol later. Just in case, and shall take one when I wake in the morning too!

I gingerly turned my attentions to the medicalisationings. This was when I noticed the blood spatter on the floor. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids had been through the mill! I used the last of the tube of Germolid cream (not to fret, I’ve got another tube, but I ordered the wrong one, the new one, which I’ll have to use after the ablutionisationing, is an ointment, what the difference is I’m not sure, but I’ll find out later, Tsk!) A vestige of discomfort remained, but so much less now the barely endurable torpedo-from-hell has been passed. I hope things don’t get blocked up lower down the flats? A good clean up all around, and off to get a mug of tea. The fear of going through that again made me take a senna tablet as well.


I turned my attention to getting the Healthchecks done. The stick thermometer showed me that the body temperature was 34.7°c, which is not too low.

: Hit my head on the corner of the cupboard door. Blungletads!

After yesterdays drop to near normality, (135) the BP sphygmomanometer had my SYS back up high again. However, its been a lot higher over the past two weeks, so fingers crossed.

Back to the computer. I was making up a template for today’s post, and on CorelDraw, making up a graphic, and it froze and turned itself off! My heart sank! Again the damned thing! I turned it back on and had lost all the work I’d done, so had to redo it again, but at least the programme let me. Pickleglobknobs! Got the photos taken this morning in, and on WordPress.

Took a snap of the once again, blue morning.

Then got on TFZer Facebooking catch-up. Next, I went on the WordPress Reader, some smashing, making-Inchcock-jealous photos on there today. Hehehe!

Tea and biscuits were partaken of, and another Macrogol made up, then got the Ablutionalisationing tackled.

The ablutions all went so surprisingly, joy-makingly well. Yes!

For some unfathomable reason, Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning?

The shaving produced only two microscopical cuts; although the dropsies were more persistent than of late, I’d got the short picker-upperer to hand, and coped injury-less well with retrieving the razors (at least eight), shaving foam (2), and the after the shave (used to stop the bleeding). Not much left of the Brut now, I’ve dropped it so often! Hehe!

The showering, well, apart from a Dizzy Dizzy visit, that caused no Accifauxpas or injuries, went so smoothly, I was almost gobsmacked! The pins and plates were nae bother and other than still looking on the pale side, appeared practically normal! Even Arthur Itis’s knees were in the best state all week!

And the medicationalisationing of my battered and been through the mill this morning, rear-end with the new ointment style Germoloids, went without the furuncle being affected, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids calmed down within a few minutes!

I sure you’ll understand how and why I fostered a Smug-Mode, Class A, Grade One! Suddenly life and hope were returning, but knowing my luck, temporarily I’m sure. Humph!

I got dressed, and scribbled some notes top use on this blog later, and decided I could cope with another brew, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana. As I bent to return the tea caddy back to the floor, I realised that my luck had not completely changed; for Duodenal Donald kicked off, and has not stopped since! (well, up to the time I got around to typing this update anyway) He seems to be making up for his absence over the last couple of days. Crikusdongungungs, he’s having a ball with me! This (I assume) is what has started Dizzy Dennis off! Most uncomfortable, now, Tsk! Up and down like yo-yo’s today, danged ailments!

I delayed the tea while Duncan was playing up, and had a good few swigs of the useless Peptac. Which incidentally, replaced the excellent Aludrox SA, which the Doctor told me years ago, had gone up in price five-fold overnight, and the NHS has barred the product. Cagnangles! I am on omeprazole for the ulcer, but it’s not doing anything at the moment to relieve my wayward innards! Still, yer don’t like to complain, does yer? Much!

The rain continues to fall, not too heavily at the moment. I took two photos from the kitchen window, one in Auto, the second one in Landscape mode. A little glum-looking!

Now, I just much find time to do some graphicalisationing, I’m right out of diary page, and Thought header graphics. Oh, Crappleness! Duodenal Duncan’s having a ball with me again!

Took the evening medications, and wondered if the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, were going to let me down again with the delivery? My EQ said; “Just get your head down, there’s not the slightest chance of them delivering your prescriptions tonight, mate!”

Fingers crossed that CorelDraw doesn’t play up again.

Two graphics were done, and ‘Inchcock-Done-Innerer’ syndrome took over. And, the wash, bish-bash-bosh, and get made the nosh! Hehehe!

The meal was prepared, and after I burnt my finger getting the fish strips out of the oven, and applied some Germolene to the index digit, I served it up. At this stage, where I had to be alert enough not to fall asleep, just in case the EQ was wrong, and the medicines did arrive, nodding-off was not an option.

This plastic plateful of nosh certainly looked appealing enough. But the potato scones were not heated properly, everything else was okay, mind. Incidentally, I found the black pepper pot I’ve been searching for over the last few days. Tsk! That spiced up the pickled eggs! A flavour rating of 7/10 given. Shame about the potato scones, but Morrisons delivered them with only one day’s sell-by date on them. Humph! Did the pots.

I got stripped, washed and down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner. Now to stay awake, in what turned out to be unfulfilled hopes of the prescriptions arriving. Which when I remembered this, I had to get some clothes on again, in foolish, vain, ridiculous ideas that the drugs may soon come. Hahaha!

I fought hard to stay awake, a couple of minutes or so long nods did happen, but I’m sure the door chimes would have woke me. After 19:00hrs, I realised what I already knew, that the prescriptions were not going to be delivered.

There I was, half-asleep, drowsy, pissed off, and in need of a wee-wee, and getting all het-up with life again. Stewing in sinful thoughts, and saddened by the failures, and the damned Thought-Storms arrived then, Huh!

I got the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) and used it.

:  And a new style of wee-wee launched itself at me, caught me out I can tell yer! I christened this one as an SVTP (Storming-Vicious-Torrential-Powerful) wee-wee. I can’t believe that my lasered bladder could hold so much urine, to belted out, splashed and sprayed, showered the carpet, and me. I nearly lost my balance at it bucketed into the bucket, and poured about everything around. It stopped abruptly, no after-trickling. I’m not surprised, there just couldn’t have been anything left inside to come! Thunderisations! Little Inchy must have felt like an inadequate mini-fire hose! Haha!

Cleaning up and sanitising the resulting overspill, and me, took yonks to get done. I have to admit, I was feeling sorry for myself again, bitter at the Chemist, and so in need of sleep, the thought storming stopped, and was replaced with a pathetic sort of sulky, had enough, why me? Depression.

By the time I put away the cleaning bucket, cloths, brush and disinfectants, I was out of the darkness, and back as me again. (No idea why or how?) I was laughing to myself, thinking of how others would have coped. Remembering my fellow patients in the poor devils in the Newell Acute Stroke Ward (Now renamed Unit C5 Acute Stroke Unit), and how I am so much better than many of the others in there, were. Guilt developed, at how I was handling life’s challenges.

A most peculiar mood came over me as I got down again in the c1968 recliner. I was passive, ashamed and yet with a certain contentedness. My not getting to sleep, no longer bothered me, and when the Thought-Storming started again, I wallowed in them? This must-have affected me, cause I found notes about it scribbled on the pad in the morning, in all clear readable lettering, and that’s a first time that has happened.

Mmm? Summat must be in the wind for me. EQ says so!

TTFNski.

Inchock’s 4th Escape from the lockdown – to town! Pictorially presented!

Inchock’s 4th Escape from the lockdown – to town!

This woz rote by Inchy’s alter ego – Hehehe!

The following, pictorials and odes, were created in support of the Depressed Nottinghamian At-Risk High-Rise Flat-Dwelling Prisoners Support Group. Donations gladly accepted.

Having made his escape bid plans again. He clandestinely crept to the lifts, falling over his three-wheeked walker-Guide, waited for the regulation Winwood Heights twenty minutes for a lift, and got down in time to miss the bus.

He waited patiently, for the next bus, but this proved something of a benefit for the old git. Not many folks about, but he still managed to corner one poor chap, and hastened to bore him to death verbally! The man wisely moved away.

And Inchcock, being instantly bored himself now, went into one his Sherlock Holmesian modes. Someone had been blowing their nose in the bus shelter, and stuffing the tissue under the seating?

He caught the bus and got out his crossword puzzles, but the driver, obviously a stock-car racing fan, nearly had Inchy out if his seat a few times en route to Nottingham City centre. Trying to hold onto his three wheeler, took some effort.

The old chap went itn the Pondland shop on Lower Parliament Street, and despite his painful and feet, enjoyed his hobble around the store, coming out with many items he didn’t need or want, Tsk!

He got to the checkout, and got himself in a right pickle and state of embarrassment at the self-serve checkout! The lady monitoring the tills, was greatly unimpressed with his continual dropping of things and farting about trying to retrieve them.

But did not offer to help, although she shared some sneerings, of hate, derision, scornfulness and causticness with him. He came out redfaced and £20 lighter. And took these three shots of the Milton Street junction.

Where he went into the Bargain Shop. A terrible experience! No one talking, empty shelves etc. But, he still spent over £21, mostly on Christmas treats for his family of friend in Woodthorpe Court.

He was struggling now, the three-wheeler trolley-bag full, and three carrier bags hanging on the handles, would make progress awkward for him. At least he remembered to but sone of the dar clothing cleaner. He set off on a limp towards the Slab Square.

On his hobble along Milton Street to Upper Parliament Street, he noticed the Nottionghamian pedestrians crossing the road against the lights again, but this is a usual, regular occurrence. He adjusted thos spectacles.

Which was a mistake, as he turned onto Upper Parliament Street, the old fart of a fool unthinkingly took the spectacles off to clean them.

They got caught in the facemask!

He crossed over the road, and down King Street. Near the bus stops, a chap dressed like the Beatles used to, with plaited hair hanging below his shoulders, stopped him and asked for ‘a couple of quid for a coffee’. As he eyed up the bags!

Inchy just said, ‘No!’ and carried in hobbling down the hill, turning to keep an aye on the youth as he did, to make sure he wasn’t following. Getting to the Slab Square, Inchy gor out his camera for a snapping away session.

He saw the little crowd and paparazzi outside the Council House steps, he went back into Sherlock Holmesian mode, and took a close up[ phot of whoever was on the steps. This person came by. Inchy got a decent shot of his/her head.

Inch repositioned himelf a bit closer, and waited for the right moment to get a view of what was going on. Nice zoomed-in photo for once. Asssumed to be the Sheriffess or Mayoress of Nottingham? Again, not single Policeman in sight today.

The tatterdemalion, dour, malagrugrous, weary, tellurian, dangerous populace of Nottingham, were showing a bit of itnerest, at least. Not many of them had face-masks on, but it isn’t law yet to wear them outsdoors yet, methinks.

The lad poddled his way wit hdifficulty up Queen Street to get to his bus stop, and caught a number 40 back home, to his never-restfull, beloved, always something to worry about, four years being upgraded and not finished yet, Winwood Heights.

He was the only passenger when the bus moved off from the terminus. Pondering on should he get out the crossword or not; one look at the mass of bags on the trolley, and the book being at the bottom, he decided against it!

The first passenger to get on the bus, was Face-Maskless.

The second one, had his mask under his chin.

A lady got on, and she had no mask on!

As the chin-mask wearing man got up tp get off, he gave Inchy a cautionary scowl, that was a bit threatening. As the bus progressed along St Anns Well Road, it passed the Health Centre where Inchy has to go for his bladder-scan.

This is St. Anns Valley Centre, 2 Livingstone Road, Nottingham NG3 3GG.

Events over his last two visits there, do not proffer the least bit of encouragement or confidence in Inchy.

The record, as Inchy explains:

  • February: Went to get the feet done, and they said come back later, we’ll have to lool at your health record.
  • March: They refused to do my feet, cause the Warfarin level was too high..
  • July: They refused to tend to my feet, because I’d just had the stroke.
  • August: Refused again, cause of my having been diagnosed with diabetes.
  • September: The did cut my nails, but said they will not be able to so in future. I have to go private in future.

Poor old sod!

He arrived back at his Woodthorpe Court, along with the mysterious wonders of, the Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations and Kehuas. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, 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 out of, and the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’.

Thank you.

Inchcock Today – Wednesday 30th September 2020: Cannelloni Ragu!

Janet sees Henry on the television!

Wednesday 30th September 2020

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 30ain Medi 2020

01:15hrs: The regular waking up in need of a wee-wee, a struggle out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, recliner. Then the catching of my balance, and the hobble, to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Partook in a partaking in an SWP (Sprinkly-White-Painful) wee-wee, which must have lasted for about 10-seconds? Mmm?

To the wet room, to clean and sanitise the bucket, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Good timing! And what a pleasantly acceptable surprise as well! Very quick, I think someone had placed a pump or motor in the innards, Hehe! It was a long-extended dollop, but it was out and done within seconds! No mess, minimal bleeding, but most importantly, far less painful than it’s been for months! Yee-Ha!

But, would the evacuated product disappear with one flush? No! I kept filling up the tank by hand, tried putting bleach down, prodded and poked with a stick, but it took at least eight flushings before things cleared (At least I hope it has!)

The flush handle was getting hot, I’d used it so much. Hehehe! I couldn’t resist doing a bit of CorelDraw skullduggery on this photo later on.

I found myself pondering on the days’ needs and musts, the Sainsbury order due, the Nottingham City Homes maintenance men calling (To look at the balcony door, I hope), and the Vampire Nurse is due to take the Warfarin blood to be tested. I think there is something else that’s not on the calendar, but it’s all a bit vague in the head – No change there then!

I got the Health Checks tended to. Once again, the BP sphygmomanometer gave forth a decent SYS count for me, at 148. The DIA 74, and Pulse was at 80. These seemed okay as well. I considered assuming a Smugness-Mode, but I decided against it.

The stick thermometer reading of 34.3° was another good one.

A betterer photo of the thermometer this time. I used the Nikon camera. Then took a couple of shots of the morning view across Nottingham. One photograph, the first one, with the Night Landscape setting, the second in Aperture Priority setting.

The AP one was a lot closer to how the view looked to the naked eye. Such an excellent deep blue all around.

Will, or are things improving for me, luck-wise? Are perhaps the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court; the entities, ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing-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, by getting him to start feeling confident? Then shattering his foolish hopes, and giving him a pasting of chronic bad luck? Got carried away there again. Sorry!

I began updating the Tuesday diary, a lot of work to be done on it. But, I ploughed on persistently, ignoring the oh, so many corrections I had to do, thanks mainly to SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and the tenderness of the right hand’s PICP (Proximal Interphalangeal Cartilage Pain). A mouthful that one is, Haha!

I finally got the updating finished. Sent of the email and link. Then made a template for this post, and started it off. But not for long, the ablutionalisationing needed to be done, time was moving on. I got the jacket grey-jacket soaking in the kitchen sink, then got the ablutions done.

Remarkable indeed, twas a stand-up job, too early to use the noisy shower. A handful of dropsies, no dizzies, no falls, no toe stubbing. Only one nick shaving! Yes! The medicationalisationing of the rear-end was bit hurtful but was to be expected now that the attentions of Constipation Conrad are back. And the legs looked so good – still deathly pale of course, but still, I mustn’t complain.

The Sainsbury delivery man rang the intercom, and I admitted him. There didn’t look much in the box he put the food into for me. I checked on the paperwork.

There were unavailable items that had not come, this made my total spend lower than the minimum for free delivery, so the numbskulled, greedy, rich-aristocracy owning scumbags, added a £3 delivery-charge! Grumbleconfusement! Balderdashness! Teeth-Gritting-Gnashing and Buggleworthlessness!

Still, I have to give the robbing arse-holes credit, they saved the day sending me some butter, Germoloid, potato cakes and Irish Farls. Oh, and the Surimi sticks. And the potato farls had only one-days shelf life on it! Huh!

I got the grey jacket from the kitchenette’s sink, and thoroughly rinsed it with fabric softener, then, all done, wrung and hung to dry on a coat hanger above the sink unit.

: I realised I’d not got the Alarm Wrislet on. Obviously, I thought to myself, I’ve left it in the wet room, it’ll be hanging on top of the Opium bottle… no hang on, that’s not right, erm… Olmesartan bottle, where I put it every morning while showering… But No, it wasn’t there! So I had a search around, a ferret, hunt, and or rootle, all over the place. A panic-attach was a probability, but luckily I found the wristlet. I’m too embarrassed to say where Tsk! Fool! 

Herbert was doing his modelling again, tapping, knocking. Wonder what he’s making today?

The Nottingham City Homes fitter called me on the landline. He’s on his way.

He arrived ten minutes later; and set to work on the balcony door and lock. It had been fitted wrongly at birth. Haha! A bit like me, then! It seems that other blocks, as well as Winwood Heights, have been having trouble with their balcony’s and locks. He soon had me sorted and checked that I know how to use the lock and key.

But I didn’t have the dexterity to use the key, but it can lock by pulling up a lever as well. Fair enough then. I thanked the young man, and he shot off. Sociable bloke.

Then the Vampire nurse arrived, let herself in as I asked her to, she soon had the blood taken for the Warfarin test. She was also sociable and pleasant. I thanked her, and she shot off (busy).

As Herbert kicked off again, I went on Facebooking catch-up. Didn’t take too long this time.

Now I can plan to get out to the Poundland store, later. Yipee!

The door chimes rang out there ♫I only want to be with you♫, tune. It was Deana to tell me that the flat lobby floor is going to be worked on and is out of bounds for about an hour.

So, getting out to the Poundland store is now cancelled. Humph! Gawd, it’s hard work living here!

Italiano nosh prepped in the oven (ready-made Cannelloni Ragu) A new product from Iceland. I have to say it looked most unappetising when I took it out of the box, and covered the top with grated extra strong cheese, before going into the oven. Sliced some mini-tomatoes and sea-salted them, and apple, and a pot of lemon mousse to follow.

Well, it looked delicious when cooked, and tasted almost divine when eaten. The tomatoes were excellent, well, it all went down okeydokey indeed. A Taste-Rating of 8.5/10!

Got the few pots used cleaned, checked on the jacket hanging to dry, left it until morning, not dry enough yet. Took the evening medications. And down in the £300 recliner, in search of sweet Morpheus.

Again, like last night, I kept dozing off and waking again a few minutes later, and this lasted for hours. But tonight the Thought Storms were intervening as well.

Then I must have stayed asleep longer, cause when I woke, I could remember bits of a what seemed very lengthy dream I’d been having; Not sure where I was, I didn’t recognise my surrounding, but there were black cats everywhere, the purring from them, was like sweet, calming music. At one stage, I was coming up some cellar steps, and the black felines all jumped on me from the steps above… the memory gets vague then, but later I found I was in a hospital bed, and the cats were lying all over the bed, taking very orderly turns to come up and nudge my chin with theirs.

This delight seemed to go on for ages, but when I woke, I think, not sure, that this mammoth dream had been had in seconds. This is the first dream I’ve remembered in months, in fact since the stroke, I think. Purr! Haha!

Inchcockski – Sunday 27th September 2020: Montezuma’s revenge, I shouldn’t eat Chilli-Con-Carne!

Fowl-Deeds at the TFZer Cool-It-Cabin? Hehe!

Sunday 27th September 2020

Norwegian: Søndag 27 September 2020

02:00hrs. : I stirred into a mock, semi-awake state of mind, and soon discovered that I needed a wee-wee. I could see the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) had not been used from where I lay, which was a bonus for me, cause I can now nip to the wet room, without having to take the pale to be cleaned and sanitised with me. As I rolled sideways to remove my preponderantly, over-bulky-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, nauseatingly-beige coloured recliner. Suddenly, there no time to even catch my balance now, I could sense the PMAD Pre-Micturition Dribble, was doing its best to escape, so a hasty-hobble to the wet room was made.

I got in the room, dropped the PPs, and thought I was going to let rip a torrential, intense blast of wee-wee into the bowl. But, no! A weak sprinkling for a few seconds and that was it? This felt all wrong. Hey-ho! I washed the hands slowly, just in case any after-leaking started, there was no more.

As I made my way to the kitchenette, I noticed than many of the regular ailments were more noticeable by their absence, this morning, up to now, anyway! Arthur Itis, SSS, (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Anne Gyna to start with! But the oddity of the pathetic wee-wee, tells me something is brewing from the innards. A twinge here and there from the bowels! So I didn’t adopt any Smug-Mode!

I’d put the *Nokia camera on a charge, so I took a photo from the kitchen window with the complicated top learn Kodak camera. *Ah, just noticed, this, I meant, Nikon camera! I used the Night setting. It’s even worse than the Nikon and Canon at night shots! Tsk!

I was about to make a start on doing the Health checks – and the bladder tried to release its load straight away! A panic flap, and rush to the wet room, hitting my right shoulder en route, Argh!, but got there with seconds to spare (Just). I was fortunate in making it in time – wet, sloppy yet so quick and painful. I pinned the blame on myself, for having the Chilli-con-carne for my nosh, last night! Mind you, Tim Price told me a good chilli would clear me out – he was right!

Cleaning myself took long enough, but the splashed all over the bowl mess, took ages as well! 

But at least only one flush was required… I can tell, there will be more visits during the day.

Back to the kitchen, and got on with Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing results were a bit scary! I think I’ve used the wrong photo here? I thought the SYS was at 167 on the machine?

Then the stick thermometer gave me a really low reading, then? Am I perhaps on my last legs here? Ready for the Great Leader above to call me to his side?  Not that this would be a problem, I’ve a few questions I’d like to ask him about.

Made a brew Thompsons Punjana, and another dash to the Porcelain Throne (2)! A repeat performance again. I got a feeling of deja vu! Although the evacuation was of a tad smaller in volume, still wet and splashy, mind. The cleaning up took a lot longer this time, for some reason.

The personal cleaning was awfully painful, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were almost screaming out loud! Hehehe! The innards were beginning to stab at me a bit, I think there are still some actions to come.

Made a brew of Glenbgettie Gold tea, and had to rush back to the Porcelain-Throne again (3)! Oh, dearie me! The last of the ‘good’ toilet paper has now been used-up! I’m onto the thin cheap crap from Amazon now. Resulting in an even bigger mess to clean up tan last time. The same type of evacuation, but so much less and even quicker job. Still hurt though! Tsk!

The tea had gone cold, so made another drink of Thompsons Punjana, this time. Then I got Computer Cameron going. Going for another wee-wee, I noticed the Humidity & Temperature monitor, both were within the guidelines.

I used the Kodak, and it produced a nothing-it-looked-like, to the eye, photo of my right foot! As I didn’t see any shaded areas as I reviewed the shot through the eye-lens, everything looked bright and clear. Klunglefrazzles! I think the auto flash on the Kodak made the feet look worse than they were.

I updated yesterday’s blog, not much left that needed doing. Made a drink of Glengettie, had a wee-wee and Pinterested some pictures.

Then, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne (4th) again, and it required some swift, dextrous moves on my behalf, to get there in time before the onslaught of an evacuation started! I’m getting worn-out with these visits, and all the sanitising and cleaning up that accompany each one! Schluberdubersnarl!

Got the updating finished and sent off. Then onto Facebooking catch-up, that took a long time. On the WordPress Reader, some great stuff on there today. Comments, and Winwood Heights Facebook page. Got a template made for the blog. Then went to make a brew…

Then, I had to revisit the Porcelain Throne, the 5th one of the day! At last, there were indications that the attack was easing, far less content this time, but it was messier than ever, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were suffering something rotten! Got the place and myself cleaned up again.

Back to the computer, and spent a couple of hours sorting out the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m not sure if its the programme, the computer, or me; but things keep moving from one folder to another in just one file? Probably me!

Now, weak and weary and weak, I decided to get the Ablutions done, it felt like they were really needed! Well, they were required, a damned good freshening shower and the loofa and glove will be well used! Then, guess what?

Yes, back on the Porcelain Throne (6th time this morning). Still messy, but less content methinks. I had a good clean up, as the tummy still rumbled. I suppose the problem arose from my having the Chilli-Con-Carne last night. I wondered why I’d not had any for months, I remember why now. Hahaha! I’ll check the cupboard later, and dish any cans of chilli that I find. Tsk!

I utilised the lemon-fresh air-spray and set about the ablutionisationing.

  • Doing the teeth, I found another split in a tooth, that’s four teggies with problems now, they’re not many left, either. Toothache Terence played up, of course. Three dropsies.
  • Great shaving session, only one small cut, and just two dropsies!
  • The showering went without dropping the showerhead – mind you there were four other dropsies. The worst, being the little-slim last bar of carbolic soap, it shattered into tiny pieces? Can’t get anymore now. So I used the lemon bar, not that I can smell any lemon in it! Humph!
  • Just the one knock against the grab bar as I retrieved the loofa from the deck. And it didn’t set SSS off either. I think the brain-pain department is worried more over the bout of the Chilli-prompted Diahorrea.
  • The medicationalisationing, as to be expected, was so painful. Well, the rear end was. The furuncle had been obliterated by the outcoming torrents from the bowels, I couldn’t even feel it this morning? Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered the most, bleeding and stinging without any respite. Brunglebogles!

I got some hand-washing done in the kitchen sink. Used the dark-clothing liquid I got from the Bargain Shop in town. When I picked it up, I thought there must have been a leak, cause it’s the first time I’ve used the bottle, the seal seemed okay, but it was half-empty? Brunglebogs! Perhaps I can apportion blame to 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? Tsk!

I had a look at the latest figures for the Coronavirus in Nottingham. It as not looking so good. The 154 figure is for the last 7 days.

With stomach aching and grinding away, I started this blog going. But soon realised the time, and had to stop, as Josie’s Sunday lunch needed preparing, so I washed the hands well, dried them, and got on with it.

I was proud of this week’s cheesy potatoes, chives, Squid vinegar, Leicester Cheese, and a knob of Morrison’s best Brittany butter with sea-salt, all went into the mix. The fish in batter, garden peas, Surami sticks, tomatoes, Marmite cheese and beetroot finished off the plate. Added some chocolate bars and a can of pink gin and tonic on the tray. Made my way to Josie’s door with the feast.

On my way to her door, I suddenly felt a little poorly, weak, and oh, so tired. Josie mentioned that I looked rather qualmish. (I must look what that means later, Hehe!) She okayed the look of the meal, and we swapped hellos then farewells. I wanted to let her get the meal while the fish, garden peas and cheesy potatoes were still warm.

I took to the smell of the fish in-batter I’d served Josie. And I decided to have the same myself. Although it was early, I thought it an idea to get my nosh now, and refill the frequently-emptied innards, plus I was suddenly feeling so weary and tired, I knew there was a chance of my falling asleep the moment I got settled down. This was a good idea, for I sensed the body was telling me it needed to rest and recuperate.

I took the medications early and prepped my own nosh. Fish in batter, Surami, tomatoes, garden peas and the leftover cheesy potatoes from Josies. Two tiny tubs of mousse as well. To my own amazement, I ate the lot!

I washed the pots and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, unstable, pukingly-beige-coloured, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy, yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner.

That was it for me, the day was done. I spent about six hours, drifting-off to sleep and waking again! On the plus side, despite the rumbling from the innards, there were no more calls to the Porcelain Throne. I gave up trying to get and stay asleep and got up at 02:00hrs.

Montezuma’s revenge, the huckleberry two-steps, or dysentery, call it what you will, but worra terrible, testing, Trotski’s trying, torrential-teeming, Porcelain-Throne record attending, day!