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Wednesday 27th July 2020

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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WEDNESDAY 27th JULY 2022

At around 02:00hrs, I woke for the first time. In need of a wee-wee and got to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in plenty of time for a change. But it must have been several minutes that I stood there waiting for the PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to complete its dribbling mission.
Back to the recliner, and I tried to reattain some sleep. Which, in a way, I repeatedly did. But it seemed like every five minutes, I was back to springing awake with a jump or jerk. Haha! The jerk is likely me.
During one of the sojourns to the grey plastic bucket, I realised how easier the ankle and foot felt. Several more wee-wees were needed, thankfully without the PMAD. So got the cannon, turned on the flash, and took a photo. That ointmentating last night has done me a lot of good!
I gave up on getting more sleep, and I got up around 06:00hrs and got the medical box out. Started. I got the readings and tool the usual photographicalisations of them, but they were not to be found on the camera card later? Nor last night’s nosh, either? A good job I wrote down the numbers; sometimes I don’t, just use the photo I’d taken. Input the results as above right. The BP was up a fair bit, the pulse a smidgeon, and the body temperature once again OK! Made the graph and waddled off into the kitchenette to get the first brew of the day going. I opted for Thompsons’ Punjana with semi-skimmed milk (that’s all I had in!). I saw a mass of smoke coming up from the far distance. In the Basford area, I think. But remembered abbot the card not taking photos. So took out the card to check the lock button, blew into the card holder slot, and reinserted it. Back to the window, and the smoke had got a lot less. I could see the blue lights flashing around the area. I went back to the computer and quickly checked the emails. Oh, dear! 
I found I’d got a J Sainsbury order that I thought was due on Friday. This is going to be fun getting the food in the already packed fridge… but I like a challenge.
Started on the WP comments; well, I got one anyway. And the JS order arrived nice and early.
The driver put the items into the two saved boxes and asked for a bag as well. Seems I got carried away again with the ordering; mind you, it’s good that I now have a lot of spring water in stock. If there is another heat wave, no doubt the panic buying will start again. The man out the stuff in the hallway for me.
Among the items purchased were mixed veg in water and whole free Jersey cow milk. Orange cordials, vegan seasonings, bleach. Tomatoes with basil and something else I can’t make out? More stuff; bananas, fresh pod peas, yellow tomatoes, and fish-free fish sticks. Strawberries and roses for the warden’s weekly treat. I’ll take them down later on to the Wardens holding cells for them.
Two first-time purchasers here; A different brand of burgers and some smokey cheese substitute. I’ll have to ask Richard to read the does & don’ts on the label in the morning. It feels very solid?
Back to the blogging, and just as I started getting somewhere: Smoke & Mirrors Man Mr Fries Liberty-Global, Virgin Media died a death again! More time lost! Still, it may be an integral part of one of his ambidextrousness, chicanery, and self-financial-defence mechanism?

He’s probably convinced his bosses that he is making such a cock-up of running Virgin Media on purpose. If enough of the fog boys are all driving the same f-up of service and ignoring customers and may go bust, take BT, for instance, just as bad. Then the value of those companies will fall, and Liberty-Global can either get more than the $23.3 billion they bought it for and sell it or pick up a few more internet companies for peanuts, and we can ruin them as well… It Doesn’t make sense, does it? But I can see in my minds-eye Fries conning his bosses like this. Smoke & Mirrors are his forte!
I don’t say these things lightly. And it is nothing to do with my being covetous of his manly looks, stubby-chin, masculine body. Nor jealously of his $23m a year salary, bonuses and expense account on top of it all, not to mention the grand back-handers and shares in the company he gets given. Or his gorgeous wife… Where was I?
Started getting a little persistent again. He must have a big order on for some school or church? He reminds me of Harold Shipman without his beard.
Finally got the ode added and finished yesterday’s blog. Doing this one will take ages with such a late start on it?
Put the computer to sleep, and I took the treats down to the Wardens holding cell in Winwood Court. Forgot to take the camera with me. Huh!
Got to the office, and I gave them a choice of plonk, the roses and strawberries, back up to the flat and carried on with this blog.

All I did was turn in the swivel chair to stand up, and an instant loss of balance hit me! Bounced off of the recliner, which was good, cause its well-padded. Rolled and gently plopped onto the floor, hitting my head on the table leg.
Going to turn it all off and sit quietly for a while, then hopefully get summat to eat. Not eating might have encouraged the Dizzy Dennis spell?

Back later. Well, I hope so. Hehehe!
I’m back…

Oddlimost Nosh for Ages…
Tons of pod peas, nothing but the best…
Black & yellow tomatoes with a tasty zest.
No-Fish Fish Sticks, on this plate, the sweetest,
Part-baked batch, the tastiest!
A banana, two pots of desserts,
Well, I was at my hungriest…
I hope it is easy to digest!

Checked on the Plates-of-meat…
The ulcer was looking a bit pink…
Water retention put the feet out of sync,
The bottom of the feet began to plink,
Will that ulcer ever shrink?
Involuntarily passed wind, what a stink!.
Caused the nosh, I think?.
When the carer’s been, I’ll wash and shave at the sink!

Evening Carer called, twas Valerie
Val handed two letters from the box to me,
She sorted the medications professionally,
Thanked her with a punnet of fruit, strawberry,
I felt a fart building, but I didn’t let it free,
Leaving, she took the waste bags to the chute for me!

Letters Investigated…
One letter was from the bank, the TSB…
A leaflet, ‘We are here to help, that’s contradictory,
Nottingham had 23 branches in 2003, now just one, sadly,
And that’s miles away, that’s due for closure shortly…
The other mail, from the Council, telling me…
To go on the internet for a details inventory,
Fill it in to be able to vote next January!

Late Ablutionalisation Session Thoughts In Ode
I look a little like I was growling?
The shower curtain shows its dolphin.
I’m stuck in the flat, not globetrotting,
Passing wind all the time, it needs fumigating,
Little Inchies fungal lesion exsanguinating,
The rear end began erupting…
My mind and concentration ever drifting,
Frequently self-condemning,
Inwardly waffling, bloviating,
Moments of lucidity were thin…
Two stubbed toes… so aggravating!
Moments of pure daydreaming,
Yet I was content, although inwardly waffling…
With the Thoughtstorms bludgeoning…
Battering my brain, but not concerning?
I finished off, the toes still twingeing,
But, no point in my minging or ologoaning…
Hello, can I hear someone phoning?

Watched the Football Match
I was overjoyed that it was won by Germany!
France winning would be Whoopsiedangleploppery,
If England had to face France, possible misery…
England can win a competition final, finally…
Although, it certainly won’t be easy…
The final is played next Sunday,
Huh, guess who’s kicked off; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley!

That’s yer lot, can’t type in this condition. I’ll post this later.

I’m back: I nearly forgot Sister Jane rang me. The Police Pegasus has been in touch with her as a first-responder on the list. As soon as I heard this, I remembered the form they had sent for me to update my details. Carer Richard never got around to helping me fill it in, and I forgot all about it! What a twit! Jane rang them back and kindly called me back to say she had done it but had forgotten to tell them about the youths who came into the flat at 02:00hrs the other month. We are a pair for forgetting things! Hahaha!

Have a great day!

Inchcock: Up all night, food delivery at 06:00hrs, then the Dentist!

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

MONDAY 25th JULY 2022

Due to so much time lost faffing about at the Sherwood Dentist, shopping and finding empty shelves, missing the bus back up the hill, and so many wee-wees, I must be in line to be Champion Wee-Weewer; this diary will only be a sketchy one. It’s a good job I spent all night getting the graphics done!

In between the repetitive wee-weeing.Tsk!

0515hrs: I’ve been up all night! Got the ablutionisationing done. Came out to get the kettle on, bleary-eyed! The odd wee-wee was taken.

I got out the Chinese sphygmomanometer and got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing. Hahaha!

The Blood pressure was; SYS 146, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 71bpm. Obviously, the Pulse had dropped a little from the last two days. The body temperature was not bad at all, at 33.5°f.

I checked the time available, and I decided to visit the (NHS) National Health Services DVT patients check site. It came out as a smidgeon higher in the red than yesterday’s test did. Made this graphicalisation on CorelDraw, then began to ready things for the hobble top Sherwood, remembering to use the homemade checklist.

Done.

Richard arrived. We managed a decent natter, and he checked the medication drawer. Selected a cold plonk from the fridge, and he departed a tired lad, taking the waste bags with him to the shute for me. I got the list of things needed for the hobble into Sherwood for the Dentist visit. Then prepped things, making sure things were in the jacket pockets or the Walker-Trolley. Walked to Sherwood. As you can see, I forgot to put the woolly hat in the basket, Humph!

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So, I set off out and took the lift down to the ground floor. Taking this selfie as I did so. Of course, I wanted to go down via the 12-floors of the concrete fire escape route, just to keep myself in shape, with a body like what mine is; one likes to look after it. Plus, with me being a young, athletic fitness fanatic… alright then! Don’t laugh! Haha! You understand.
I made my way along the inner link corridor and made a fool of myself… it’s easily done for me, looking a plonker. Even easier nowadays since Vascular Doreen Dementia took up residence in my brain. I started to ask Deana and Julie (Wardens) in their office if they could ask Meridian’s Natalie if she’s heard anything from the Diabetes people about where the courses are and the transport from Nottingham Community place. It all came out wrong, and the girls were more confused than before I’d started talking!

I hobbled down Winchester Street, turned left down Mansfield Road and visited the Oran Food Stores Cash-Point. My brain froze as I got my card out – oddly enough, I remembered the number but was flummoxed as to which way round to put the card in the machine! I felt a right-chump going in to ask the lady in the shop! The look on her face said something like, “He shouldn’t be out on his own!” But she gave me a twinkling of a smile (derision, or sympathy-based, I’m not sure!) as I thanked her and returned to get some money from the ATM. Back in the shop, but they didn’t 3 of the 4 things that I’d hoped to get. As I mentioned the other day, It’s crumbling, the UK!

I limped back up the Mansfield Road incline over Winchester Street at the traffic lights junction, and I called into the Wilko store. They didn’t have a single one of the items on their sad, all-but-bare shelves! Humph! e. I needed some Wilko Fresher granules and washing-up liquid, Zoflora lemon, and their own brand 15-litre blue waste bags. I carried on, feeling a smidgeon pee’d off at my lack of success. The wind was cool and getting up a little, a summer portend of rain to come?

I called into two charity shops to see if any bobble or flat caps were on sale. No!

This surgery always gives bother of some sort or another, a few of them this time. Getting up the three chunky, concrete steps with the walker was not going well! I was rescued and helped a chap just arriving. A lady phoned me yesterday and asked that I get to the surgery early. Well, I had done 20 minutes despite the fortress defences having to be fought through.
The receptionist was hard to hear, and ten minutes or so late, I was commanded to take a seat; someone will fetch you! “Thank you!”

I sat down and had the battle to see the crossword clues as the lighting was terrible and the cataract. They had left a door open in the waiting room, which usually would not bother one… but I had a further 50 minutes before I was seen by a dentist… I’ll explain.

A lady came to me and asked if I could manage to get up the two flights of stairs to my dentist? As calmly as possible, I replied: “Each time I come, this happens, no I can’t get up the stairs, as I told staff last time, and the previous five times, and still you book me in with the top-floor wallah!” Lady (Doing her best), “It will be a while before we can re-sort a ground floor surgery for you” – Me: “Six months ago, I was told that I’d automatically be on the ground floor from now on, but no!” “We’ll sort it out…” “Oh, good, thanks!” Back to struggling with the cool breeze and the crossword book.

Forty minutes later, I was led, well, more marched, to the far front surgery. The whole examination couldn’t have lasted longer than five or six minutes! I again asked if it was possible to have all the teeth out? Reply? “I don’t think so! I mentioned the loose tooth at the front next to where its former neighbour fell out seven months ago. Reply? “Do you want me to pull it?” Me: “Well, now you, mention it…” Interrupted: “No, it should last until the next visit”.

Aghast at how I’d been treated, I asked her for a prescription for some more of the Duraphat toothpaste. She gave me a prescription that had to be stamped to legalise it at the reception when you pay. So I went to pay up. Now you can add another five minutes or more while the three receptionists were all on the phone, no clients anywhere? But I needed the Duraphat, so I stood there in silence. Eventually, one of the receptionists signalled with a backward flipped head-nod for me to pay my dues and stamped the prescription for me. I needed help again, this time in getting me and the trolley down the steps on the way out. It’s hard to believe all that just happened, but it did.

Up to the top of the hill, to the Lloyds Chemists, to get the Duraphat. I bought some Germolene, being as the chemist had some in stock! I bought the last two tubes. But nothing is too good for Little Inches Fungal Lesion! Hehehe!
Paid up, out and back down to the bus stop. A long time since I used this, and I tried to read the timetable for the 40 bus – mission impossible!
A lady arrived, who I thought I’d seen at the flats, and we got into a good nattering session. Great sense of humour; I must try to see her again!
The bus arrived, and we were soon back up at the flats. The next ten minutes proved how much I’d been missing getting out. As I met Margaret, who I’ve not seen for months now. We had a gossip. Then another bus came in, and Chrissie got off, Margaret got on the bus, and we walked through the inner route through Winchester and Winwood Courts back to our Woodthorpe Court.

Two people chatted as they passed Chrissie and me by. Then Natalie from Meridian stopped to tell me she was sorting out a lift for the Diabetes course. No details yet. Then I met Cheeky Charley, the carer, and Chrissie and I got the lift up to our flats.

A bit embarrassing:, with the excitement of seeing people, I got confused as to which floor we were on and when the doors opened, I stood there waiting for Chrissie to get out of the cage… it was my floor – Oh, I did feel a fool! Bade farewell to Chrissie. ♥ And red-facedly, I made haste to my apartment.
No sooner had I got the trolley into the flat than the need for a wee-wee had me scrambling into the wet room. The timing and mot getting caught out while I was in Sherwood, Truly Amazing! Of course, I was wise not to go into Smug-Status because the AMS must have lasted for a good five or six minutes!
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I got the things put away. I’m looking forward to the vegan franks again; I’ve had some earlier in the year, and they were good. If I’ve got any chips in the freezer, I may have them with the sausages – eventually.

I got on with the blogging at long last. But not before I took these shots as the sky suddenly brightened up. There’s something about the beautiful to me, clouds.

Of course, I do enjoy my pareidolia. I saw a face mask and eyes in these photographs, traces of a face as well. Do you see them?
On with the blogging. I really need some sleep, but the blog must go on! Hehehe!

♫Oh, Susana♫ came from the door chime, and I got up to answer it; it was dear Josie bringing back her weekend meal tray and pots. She volunteered how much she liked them this week. Which was nice to hear.
The right foot was hurting somewhat when I took the things off of Josie, so I took a look at the plates and ankle. Sure enough, the right leg and foot looked like they were swelling up again? Ah, that might be due to the little hobble I took earlier? See how quick I was there? I can be like lightning at times! Hahaha!
The Evening Carer could be here at any time from now. I’ll make a start on the day’s ode, I think.
Hello, the rains starting! By the time I’d got the camera out to take a snap of it, it had stopped. Ah, well, every little bit helps!

I was just about to mention that the wee-weeing had stopped.   But no, more annoying, after-dribbling wee-wees are back again.
I’ve changed my mind and am going to get something to eat instead.

The doggie hot dog sausages I’d cooked had a tough plastic skin on them that I’d not noticed before. I had to skin them before eating. They looked terribly pale then, and the smooth texture, that was not appealing whatsoever to look at.
But my gum, they tasted delicious! The sliced potatoes and tomatoes were disappointing. The part-baked bread was gorgeous! And the No-Bull vegan ice cream to follow, as you know by now, I loved! The overall Taste Rating was 8.2/10. I washed the pots and got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner. Put the TV on, and I promptly drifted off into the land of Nod. For half an hour or so…

I was rudely awakened by the tune of ♫ Oh, Susan ♫, and Carer Sarah (I might have the wrong name there, sorry if so) came in. Soon got the medications sorted for me. Selected a cold can of G&T for her choice of treats from the fridge, picked up the waste bag, and off she went. Thank you!

Could I get back to sleep again? Well, yes, I did this time! I think it was sheer exhaustion, the upsetting farce, and the hobble the dentist helped. I slept right through until about 01:00hrs, no jumping awakes, no wee-wees needed. Grrreat! In fact, as I made my way to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I sensed the need for the Porcelain Throne.
. It turned out the Constipation Conrad had taken over the innards functions, and despite my best efforts to move things, nothing evacuated from the rear end. However, an FPBWW (Forceful-Painful-Blasting) marathon of a wee-wee flowed out as if from a hose pipe! I washed the dandies and things and returned to my chair, hoping to get some sleep again.

Amazingly, I soon got to kip and was dreaming of being on a big wheel, with an old girlfriend… and jumped awake so violently, with wind escaping flutteringly, from my rear end. Dang, Dang…Dang Dang! The race was on to get back to the Throne! Tearing free of the pyjama bottoms, I plonked my elephantine-bellied body down on the seat… the biggest, longest, and it is possible, making a raspberry-sounding-like release that shook the foundations of my insides!
Then, this time, a wee-wee session arrived; in the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. Each I felt it was coming to an end, the trickle refreshed! Well, if nothing else, I was getting a variety of WC and Throne visits. Hehehe!

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COMING SOON

An Inchcock Today Special…

I’ve forgotten what it is, but,

if I remember or find any notes

on the scribble pad…

I’ll let you know… Sorry!

Inchcock Today: Short Diary & an Ode

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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SATURDAY 23rd JULY 2022

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I rose, mentally weary and physically so tired. Sweet Morpheus has been unkind to me for a few days. Not much sleep at all.

I pottered about, starting many things and drifting merrily off to such others. Not many saw completion or fruition.
I found some photos that were supposed to have gone on yesterday’s blog. Last night’s meal. A veggie dinner and veggie ice cream, not that the brain was clear enough, but I think it was nice and tasty. I gave the memory an 8/10 score. Apart from the beetroot, which tested my loose teeth. Which reminded me, I must remember the Dentist’s visit on Monday!
arrived and sorted out the medications. I noticed when I opened the new bag that some of the same medicines had shorter-dated packs at the bottom of the drawer. Of course, there were only a few that I could read the date on, thanks to the Cataracts. The carer soon got me sorted. Didn’t want any drinkies or nibbles and left leaving the waste bags in the hallway. I didn’t think to ask her to take them; a new gal is not up with the system yet. Nervous and weary, but nice enough, bless her.
It was a bit colder this morning, a lot, in fact.
I took some photographicalisations from the kitchen window.
Then went on the computer – that was it; I spent around eight hours doing odeing and never got around to starting this actual blog!

Had a shower, shave and a sh… well, we’ll leave that bit. Not that it was a bit. A Constipation Konrad controlled session. Firm, painful and in the end, a little bloody, Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered.

Then realised I’d not done the Health Checks yet. So I did!


Yet again, an overall lower than ever before result! Phenomenal

I started on an Ode for the top of this blog. And it took me hours to get done. Mind-Blanks! Kungleturds! My efforts were accompanied by Herbert’s mechanical and metal cacophony concert.

Nearly tea time now. It won’t be long until the evening carer is due. What happened to the time?

Mind you, every wee-wee was followed by  , and Little Inchies a few times, which cost me a lot of lost time. I’m still tired, is slowing me down now. I’m struggling with using CorelDraw. The keyboard keys blend into each other. Grollocks!

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My daily walk through the tree copse mattered…
If I tried it nowadays, I’d be devoured…
By various ailments pains, again and again…
Can’t get up the hill or down in the subterranean…
Would it help me if I took some cocaine?
Or a few more Codeines for the pain?
I’d likely end up an addicted crackbrain?
Better not think of doing this then…
Should I be eating bread that’s multigrain?
I hope the cataract is done soon, my vision to regain…
Oh, dearie me, I need the Throne made of Porcelain…

Bloody Constipation Conrad; he’s barbaric!
I lost blood from the piles, trapped something in the seat of plastic!
The rock-hard evacuation nearly sent me ballistic!.
Sorry, I mustn’t be so melodramatic…
Little Inchies fungal lesion bled; it’s only miniaturistic,
It’s no use me being all nostalgic,
Or far-seeing and nostradamic,
And I’m not getting into a tizwas or panic…
Even with all my ailments, and now I’m osteoarthritic…
I intend to learn how to be optimistic,

Being depressed has been making me feel sick,
As do people who call me a prick…
For having such a tiny man-dick…
Bullies, gangs, fiddling MPs, Doctors charlatanic…
I find these scumbags are lowlife, oxymoronic,
They concern, bother me, even if I’m thanatognomonic,
Dementia Doreen, toys with all things mnemic…
Dates, appointments, names, days… it could be hilaric…
But with me, there are other things to make me feel despotic,
Peed off, humiliated, and depressogenic…
I’ve forgotten what they are; because I’m a schmendrick!

Yet I used to be known as being hyperdynamic,
I’m so fat naturally; I’m not bulimic,
I don’t see the end of mankind as cataclysmic…
If there is a God, our actions must have made him sick…
If St Peter wants to send me back to earth again… Horrific!
One failure is enough for me; that would be so dramatic.
Unless he assures me this time, my man-worm will be pythonic!
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Turned the Computer off and thoughts of food developed. But there are not many choices fresh-wise, and I’m too tired and shaking to bother too much.

I decided first to take some close-up photos of the ankle and feet. Here they are on the left here. The left foot is getting worse, but the right one with the ulcer is far easier and better looking tonight.

The left toes and foot had lost a lot of fluid. The right one was still retaining a lot of water. Walking remains more like hobbling and a smidge risky when the PN wobbles and shakes come on while getting around the flat.

Ah, off to the wet room. A tough evacuation that almost brought tears to my eyes. Washed up, and I medicated poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids.
Then back to pondering on what to have to eat. Well, I was not interested in cooking, and the tiredness decided me to have a quick snack. A pot of pot noodles, with extra seasonings, added. Liquid smoke and BBQ sauce. A pot of instant potato with liquid salt, soya bacon pieces and more BBQ sauce. A few sad-looking slices of dry bread to dip into the noodles and wrap up some of the potatoes to make a sarnie out of.
The picture looks terribly sparse, unappetising, a pathetic meal. That is because it was all these things!
Yet… maybe because of Sweet Morpheus’s determination that I will not get any sleep, combined with his success in doing this, I enjoyed the nosh. I think a Taste-Rating of 6.5/10 would not be over-gracious?
Even though I fell asleep eating it! Woke and finished it off and drifted into the land of nod again. I think it must have been a deep one, cause I reckon I was dreaming I was sleeping… and great joy was floating in my mind, peaceful…
♫Oh, Susana♫ burst out from the door chime box six foot away in front of me. It jerked me awake, and Valerie came into the room, and instantly the tiredness hit me again. I’d only been sleeping for five minutes! I was hoping to stay in the recliner while Valerie gave me the medications, then I could nod off again when the gal had finished, but no! Valerie needed some medications, and I got up and hobbled into the kitchenette to get her some from the medicine drawer.

Valerie gave me the doses, and I had a little natter with her. She pointed out that my Stuttering-Stephanie habit was a lot worse tonight. I’d not noticed? Why I wondered? And stayed not knowing!) I can’t remember if I offered her any nibbles or not? I hope I did. I think I stayed in the chair as she left after I thanked her.
But there was no sleeping early tonight for me. I soon realised I’d not locked the door. So, what with the memory of the yobboes coming in at two in the morning still fresh in my mind, I had to get up and go to lock the door – Not a hard task, really…
However, stubbing my toe on the way back against the clothes airer ensured a minor curse word was emitted, thus, cocking up any chance of getting to sleep early!
After an hour or so, I gave up and put a DVD on. Humph!

Inchcock Today: Blog with Odes

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Saturday 16th July 2022

04:45hrs: I rose from a terrible night’s sleep, again full of jumping awakes, yet felt calm and unconcerned? I rose with relative ease from the c1968, £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-operational recliner. Almost on auto-pilot, I hobbled into the kitchen, put the kettle on, then took a strained, painful wee-wee, washed and made a mug of Glengettie Gold tea.
At this stage, the farcicality of yesterday’s hospital visit came back to my mind. Suddenly doing anything whatsoever lost its appeal.
I got the computer on and went to the WordPress comments sections. I had the usual mass of communications on my latest blog to read and reply to. I did them both straight away. Then visited the WP Reader section. I did enjoy that. Checked the emails… I saw the promised Email from the Diabetes team confirming my joining the weekly sessions on a face-to-face basis; at first, remembering, this put me on a semi-high. Until I got to the location.

I didn’t realise that it was not at the Sherwood Social Centre. Where I was assured, it would be last year. Oh, no, (I should be so lucky!), it’s four miles away, in Bulwell! So, now I had to work out what buses I could get, hoping one would take me all the way from the flats. So, I set to searching Mr Google to find what was and wasn’t available. I’m afraid it wasn’t good news.

Due to Covid and lack of drivers, the service stops at Top Valley, not Bulwell! I looked at other options, but Dementia Doreen was not helping. I could get a bus down into Sherwood, then another to Bulwell, and return in the same route, but I’d have to remember the bus times, not be late etc., and that would test Doreen and me too much. I looked at the Email sent me again and sent a message. Explaining why I can’t get there and asking if there was any chance of the Sherwood Diabetes sessions opening. I had explained this to the Sherwood people, I can get there walking if necessary, getting back up the hill, it’d have to be a bus, but I reckon I would cope with that. Awaiting a reply from the gentleman.
I’m getting all uptight again now! This investigation into the buses has cost me three hours! Why can’t I get through just one day without something going wrong?

Carer Joe came late on, and it was off to the Porcelain Throne as soon as the lad left with his cold drinkie from the fridge.
Back to the Emails. Petal-Lisa had sent me a marathon. That took me over an hour to absorb and reply to. But it was a pleasure, and she had a little sleep recently, which cheered me up no end. Bless her! A treasure she be! ♥♥♥

Got back to sort more emails out, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a decent long chinwag, and a few smiles erupted. I had to cut it short, though; the Porcelain Throne activity needed tending to. Stinky, messy and painful. Humph!

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana.

And took some photos of the front views, starting with my much-missed visiting Tree-Copse in the bottom field.
Boy, I do miss visiting it. Sob!
Taking this picture of the front car parking on Chestnut Way, and spotted an ambulance below, at the front doors of my beloved Woodthorpe Court.
I wondered if it might be Francis coming back from the hospital? I certainly hope so. I’ll get a move on with this blog, interruptions permitting, and go down to see if she’s in.
I took a photo of the muggers-delight area to the left of the flats. Not many people around today?
Cracked on with the top graphics and ode for this blog. I must get the ablutions done as well. A jolly good shave, shower and sh…, well never mind that. Hehehe! Back in a while, smelling all nice, hopefully uninjured, not bleeding, and in a happier frame of mind. TTFN!
I’m back. Wait for this… Shaving…All good on the scrubbing up stakes! Not a single cut or nick! Ankle ulcer all calm, DVT veins have dived like submarines from the sea’s surface. The legs and feet did look a smidge like they were off of a cadaver, mind you.
I started for a change in the body temperature. Which was more than decent at 34.3°c. It seems to be doing a lot better recently. For weeks it was so low, not now, though. I suppose the hot weather may have some effect on it? Or not.
The Blood Pressure, as I believed I forecast yesterday, took a tumble. I think it was 166 on Friday night. Tonight a comfortable SYS 132. DIA 66, and Pulse a smidgeon low at 67bpm.
I put the figures in the NHS check site and found I was out of the red altogether, down in the amber. This has never been as low for years! Should I adopt a Smug-Mode?
I got the meal cooking and nipped into the wet room for a wee-wee.
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen to see if I’d left the hot water tap running. But no, I hadn’t? Came to wash my hands, and the hot water was cold? Well, it’s about 17:20, so it should be heating up now. Another mystery?
I grabbed the Fuji camera to take a picture of the just served up on the tray evening nosh. I somehow managed tsk top take this rather natty photo of the balcony as I picked the camera up? Yet another mystery?.
The last of the garden peas, the mushroom pattie and bread! But I did an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow. No good me having it on Monday, as I’ll be at the hospital, will I not? The Baxters, no, no, sorry, Heinz beetroot from Iceland was farcically hard! I bent the knife cutting into it. Then gave up cause it was too hard on the teeth.

Iceland has let me down a bit this week; apart from the beetroot, the squashed bruised bananas,  No Vegan Icecream, No Vegan beefburgers, and the mushrooms that had a sell use-by-date for the day delivered. Oh, and the crushed bread!

Valerie arrived. Told her about the water being cold, and she rang NCH Repairs for me, bless her.

Ten minutes or so after Val left, I started regurgitating the food. Not good! Better get this posted while I can. TTFN.

.

Inchcock Today: Diary & Odes

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Inchcock Today: Diary & Odes

I woke up late,
In a bit of a state,
Began to anticipate,
Thought Storms, accelerate,
Get up? No, I’ll wait…
Sunday emptied meal plate…
I need to concentrate,
Get up; I’d sooner hibernate,
I moved; Cor blimey mate…
Passing wind, I’ll have to fumigate,
Waking up is so vermiculate…
The thoughts were not articulate…
Plans, thoughts began to verbigerate,
The belly wobbled, so I’m overweight,
Get up? How I procrastinate…
Getting up then, got to, to urinate!
Porcelain Throne needed, can’t hesitate…

Put my spectacles on, grabbed the walking stick,
The pain from the right knee was chronic,
Little Inchy’s Fungal Lesion was haemorrhagic,
The evacuation was messy and slick…
Will today also be another depressogenic?

Despite my losing two pictures last night from the SD card, I tried again to take shots of the sun setting. I should not have been able to because I should have been asleep, But the Thought Storms paid to any hopes of my drifting off, sleeping, or getting any rest. Humph!
Still, they came out alrightish.
I pondered the problems with the Canon camera and decided to look at Amazon to see what it would cost me to buy a replacement one of the same model. That idea is a definite no-go, after seeing the prices had gone up over 20%! I typed in, ‘Canon SX 740 HS, 40x zoom’. I got the same camera as I bought from Amazon last year, but the £189.99 cost then, is now over £280! Of course, I could have purchased several of them without testing the bank balance…
My Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, a contactless thermometer, showed a decent result again, at 34.0°c. I imagine the hot weather has helped?
The Boot’s Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing resulted in a third day on the trot of the SYS being in the 140s range. At least it’s not shot up to anything silly like it usually does on a Monday. There’ll be a reason for that, of course. But why on Mondays still baffles me? Mayhaps it is because I dislike Sundays… I don’t know.

I looked at the great puffer clouds displayed in the sky, and I took a photograph of them. But, yet again, the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways, flats and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare, worry and confuse me! Humph! Both shots had disappeared from the SD card! 
Painful teggie-cleaning, but the bottom front tooth is still hanging by a single nerve thread. Hahaha! Shaving that went well, only one tiny nick under the chin. The showering went decently as well. No Dizzy Dennis’s, no knocks, bangs or tumbles. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was the only hassle, and she didn’t last for long. An even greater
Ah, well, yer can’t win ’em all! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, Haemorrhoid Harold, and Cartilage Cathy were all tender, to put it mildly. As usual, the Fungal Lesion medicationing gave me the most actual pain. But still a good session overall. I went into the front room to tend to the burnt knuckle and Ankle Ulcer, as it is a lot lighter to see there.
The burn mark had changed colour again, looking a little prettier already. Hahaha! It soon started to dry up a little later, so no ointmentationalisationing was needed.
I just rubbed in sine Germolene on the ankle ulcers; they didn’t need proper medicationalisationing this time. But, Cartilage Cathy, on the other hand, was so delicate that I rubbed in some of the MedPhorpainPhorpain gel; at least she is easier to reach to tend to things. Har-har!

I’ll take an extra painkiller when Care Richards arrives, methinks.

Carer Richard came, and, I remembered to take the extra Co-codamol. Richard had a look at the prescription levels in stock. Getting a few of these in today, am I not?
Computing, and the most auspicious gentleman above, kicked off with the tap-tapping, with the odd clunk thrown into the mix.

           ♫ Happiness, happiness, the greatest gift that I posses ♫
♫ I thank the Lord that I’ve been blessed ♫
♫ With more than my share of happiness! ♫
When Jillie comes, I want to beat my chest…
No doubt about it, Jillie is the best...
Now I’m at my Happiest! ♥

We nattered laughingly,
Cause Jillie is lovely,
Caring, kind and has adopted me…
I’m her Uncle now, you see…
Oh… Glory Be! ♥

After Jillie had departed, I was refreshed at just seeing her again, and decided to treat myself to a bowl of Vegan ice cream. A great big half-a-pot dollop of delight! I sprinkled it with some ‘Silver Balls’. I shall not bother with them again. My poor old teeth! Hehe! I fell asleep, a deep yet, apparently dream-filled one.
The evening carer arrived to wake me up with the loud tune of ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door chime. I was half asleep, and recall very little of the visit. I just hope I had my trousers on. Within minutes of her departure, I was back in the land of nod; contentedly after Jillie’s visit. I sprang awake around 23:00hrs, in need of a wee-wee.
I found the reminder notes on the pad, about the dreams I’d had. I’ll try to decipher them in the morning.
I put the kettle on for a mug of Thompson’s Punjana Tea, and the view from the kitchenette window caught my attention. Especially the blue cloudless evening sky. Although even to my bad cataracted eyes, it looked so beautiful. Unfortunately, the photo didn’t turn out as attractively as the real thing. This often happens, shame really.
Well, after the brew drinking, I decided to get this blog finished.

TTFN each, have a good sleep! Especially HRH Petal-Lisa, who is struggling to get her rest in. Bless her! ♥♥♥

Local News Snippets – Part 14⅒th

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Unwin must have been known for having a violent history…

For four officers to escort him, obviously the dullest,

To take off his handcuffs, knowing he’s the unfriendliest,

A decision that proved to be one of the iffiest,

Four officers were assaulted; was there an inquest?

In court, battered officers, the most ignoble,

Saw a sentence handed to Unwin, the patheticist…

15 months, suspended, no wonder he reoffended!

This sentence should go down in folklore,

Not one policeman beat up, but four!

Now he’s free to duff-up some more!

Why is there no complaining or furore…?

Namby-pamby sentencing gets more and more,

Violent police assaulters, by the score…

Laughing at judges even more…

Softness won’t work, like with Putin’s war!

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Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they have to carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? There is no chance of any retribution worth talking of. I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly, cowardly, drug-crazed, chicken-hearted, self-centred minds.

What chance for the future, with scum-ball bully boys so scared, they must carry weapons and use them to intimidate others? Modern-day gangsters, barely out of their nappies. No chance of any retribution worth talking of; I’m sure the threat of having to serve two-thirds of their sentence and the rest on a licence will send a shudder of fear through their vicious, antisocial, greedy, cowardly minds. It’ll get them some more street-cred with the opposition drug gangs, which is more concerning to these lice than any prison sentence. OF course, they will be able to access drugs for personal use via manipulated family members and visitors. Not having to worry about getting medical attention, cooking, cleaning, council tax, the increase in the cost of living, having computer problems… Hang on that does sound a little tempting. I bet if I was incarcerated, I’d get both cataracts, saccades and glaucoma done quicker… Maybe, even get some help with Vascular Dementia, Doreen? Be able to actually see a real doctor! Not to fret over food price rises, rent, and carer cost increases… And stick two fingers up at my unsolvable computer problems; I can use the prison ones and get the internet for free!

Now that’s got me thinking. Who’s the idiot, these three stooges or me? Have I been missing out on things in life? Silly question that! Obviously, I have been missing out, or why would I end up where I am, after a slog of miserable, failed, error-filled life, stuck here surrounded by tellurians and so lonely?

Can one of these three good-looking drug-gang members might advise me on how and where to get a reliable handgun and ammunition? 

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Surprised? I’m not. The end is nigh! The world is racing to it. Not much point in betting on which way the world and or humanity will self-destruct, but I’ve come up with some odds:

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A sore point, so I’ll say no more!

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Covid numbers, not so good?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I keep on failing!

TTFNski!

ALTO-INCHY RETURNS…

/ Inchie / 44 Comments

ALTO-INCHY RETURNS…

INCHY: Ayup, your back again then, Alto? Not seen you for ages.

ALTO: How did you know I was here; I was in clandestine mode?

INCHY: I reckon that Doreen Dementia can detect yer; I certainly knew you were creeping about in my head…

ALTO: Rowlocks! I reckon it’s another Alto trying to sneak in…

INCHY: Whatever makes yer think that then?

ALTO: Well, I’ve been having troubles with Alto Control Room Monitoring Section, mate...

INCHY: Mate? Calling me yer mate? Summat serious, then I take it.

ALTO: Of yes, not-half Inchy. I slipped up a bit with not picking up on yer suicidal tendencies, and the ACRMS found out… some sneaking Alto had snitched on me…

INCHY: That’s not right… some foreign Alto snitching on my Alto! Can I complain about this?

ALTO: Why?

INCHY: Well, after three-score and ten and a bit of having you pestering and trying to make me miserable, these past few weeks, I’ve sort of missed you, and you are mine?

ALTO: That would have brought tears to my eyes if I’d got any!

INCHY: Don’t be sloppy; it doesn’t become you; where’s your sarcasm, nit-picking, foul language, insinuations, and determination to destroy any contentment I have gone?

ALTO: It’s a sad tale, my friend…

INCHY: Hang on then, I’ll make a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and get back to yer… owd yer horses… I’ll be back…

ALTO: Thanks, Inchy… I appreciate that…

At this, Inchy hobbled off to his kitchen and made the brew described above, totally confused. Alto, thanking him, calling him a friend and mate? Not a single insult or put down uttered? This could be serious. What if the new Alto takes over? He could well be worse than Alto Inchie?

INCHY: I’m back, Alto-Inchie. Fair enough, we’ve had some set-to’s, barneys and verbal battles… Who is this invading Alto anyway, and why does he want to take over control of me?

ALTO: I’ll explain, mucker! This Senior level Alto failed in his mission on his last assignment, got the sack, and has gone rogue on the ACRMS. Being such an experienced Alto, they cannot reel him back into the fold, and for some reason, he’s chosen you as his next target?

INCHY: Who did he fail with?

ALTO: Ah, well, he was Alto-Putin…

INCHY: Putin! The Russian one?

ALTO: Yes, I’m afraid so!

INCHY: How did he fail with Putin? Good Gawd, he’s launched the attack on poor Ukraine, and…

ALTO: Yes, yes, but it’s been 133 days now, and he still hasn’t won the war, has he?

INCHY: So?

ALTO: You should read up on the ACRMS rules; I’ve sent them all to your brain to study! Rule 9920043847076/Putin/WorldWar-93939g954h, Failure to achieve the prime target within 130 earth days of the formulation; will result in the said Alto (Alto-Putin in this case) being relocated to a proletariat target.

INCHY: Oh…

ALTO: Anyway, I’ve got a hell of a fight on my hands with this Alto-Putin; he’s good; too good for me...

INCHY: Well?

ALTO: Only you can help me, my old pal?

INCHY: How?

ALTO: Simple, if you commit suicide from depression, which is my prime aim, we can beat Putin-Alto, and save the world; you’ll be dead but famous!

INCHY: Ah, so if I top myself…

ALTO: Yes… but it’s got to be through depression at all costs. Otherwise, I fail in my Prime-Mission, do you see? Then I will get extra powers in payment from the ACRMS, and I can use them to defeat Putin-Alto! Hari-Kari, whatever you want to call it, through chance-medley and/or depression is a must way to go, Inchy. The ACRMS will not accept death through execution, accident, euthanasia, or mercy killing!

INCHY: How are they going to know?

ALTO: I’ll know, but the proof will be needed. I’ve thought about this, and a suicide note should do the trick, my old chum, something along the lines of: “I can no longer cope with the confusions of Doreen Dementia, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nigel’s Neurotransmitters Failing, Cataract Cathleen, Deaf Dominic and the hellish bad luck and problems are all beyond my capacity to understand, alleviate or solve. Anything of any value I leave behind is to be shared between all my relatives and friends. I leave contact numbers for all three, in the first-aid box, in the ambulatory oxygen tank racking.”

INCHY: Alto, do I detect a little sarcasm creeping into the conversation here?

ALTO: Hang on, I’m getting a message coming in from Alto-Putin...

INCHY: Alto-Putin?

ALTO: Yea… hang on… I’ll be back…

Inchy started to fret a bit while he waited… A sense of his being conned again was growing… rightly so!

ALTO: Hello?

INCHY: Well, what was that about, Alto?

ALTO: He just sent one question for me… You pathetic dummy!

INCHY: Eh? What?

ALTO: Alto-Putin said: “Did Inchy fall for it?” Hahaha!

Inchcock’s Make ’em Laugh Series

Inchcock Local New Snippers – Issue 31⅜ths with Odeing

/ Inchie / 15 Comments

Local New Snippers – Issue 31⅜ths with Odeing

ODE to the Parole Board Killers!

Early on the week so fewer murders, you see?
Not that violence and killing, are my cup of tea…
Death can be unexpected… come abruptly…
Or a knife across the throat, from a druggie?

Or a murderer gets life… ten years and he is free…
To kill again… it’s the Parole Board that’s guilty!
In prisons, more prisoners become an escapee!
It’ll happen again, I can guarantee!
Each killer should become an amputee!
Penis, hand, foot or leg, doesn’t matter to me…

Parole Board are paid so exorbitantly…
Taking their pay, for acting fraudulently,
As killer after killer, they set free!
Most, to murder again… honestly!
They should be hung straight immediately…
As a freed killer takes another life away!

30 killers killed again after being freed I say…
Release from prison twixt 2000 to 2010, May,
Will there be justice for relatives one day?
As parole board members, kill negligently,
Innocent victims have to die this way?
I share my views somewhat ineloquently,
But I so hate Parole Boarder’s complacency!

That’s got that gripe out of the way for a bit… Onwards…

Mayhaps the officers good will they nouriture?
Will criminals expect this kindness, in the future?
And at the station, a glass of wine, a bowl of garbure?
Giving time to a mugger, to scratch his dojigger?
I can’t understand this… best you figure!

That’s three weeks on the trot that faults have been found in a care home? Mansfield Road too. It rings true to home about the medicines not being given on time or making sure they are taken. That’s if they come at all. I hope Meridian don’t get a sudden visit from the CQC… could be the end of the company. And there are so many characterful and a few empty, and brilliant Carers who call. Eventually, that is. There have only been three times they have missed.

More policemen hurt, yet again,
Violent crime is growing immane!
PCs ought to carry some enflurane…
Criminals using language, most profane…
No good talking to them nicely, that’s certain!
Most arrests seem to contain a blood stain?
Or bruise, getting battered about and pain…
These are for policemen, not for the villain!

Another young local scumball,

Scum-Bucket, I can see his home from my flat window,
Another local druggie, mug-whumph and crooked Amigo!

That’s a different weapon used for stabbing…
Policemen of Nottingham, and attacking
Spitting in their face and verbally ridiculing,
Is common, like many things, kicking, shooting…
No doubt police injuries are centuplicating,
Will they ever stop? I’m still waiting…

When I was born, I logged in at just over 3lb,
Weighed in the coal scales, the only thing around,
Mummy said, “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!”
Being told this later was a bit of a rent!
She did some things later that made me gay…
When I was four, she ran away!
And they say there’s no answer when you pray?

Good News at last?

Bad News continues! Haha!

The con-man drug-pusher, named Pauca Dzintars,
Escapes punishment, say for his mother he’s a carer,
So the law is kind to him, trying to be fairer…
His going free will undoubtedly make him cheerier,
He’ll go back to pushing, it makes him wealthier…
And thinking of the law, with a laugh and snigger!

ODE TO CRIME

Chasing violent crooks can be dangerous & risky,
Offenders may be drugged up or drunk on whisky,
When caught, if caught, they escape acrobatically,
Killers are freed early, to murder again automatically,
Officers are expected to act at all times ‘properly’!

Arrest people nicely, and do the job soberly…
Getting knifed, shot, or stabbed, comes naturally…
They must not say anything to prisoners inflammatory,
They’ll get support nor help, Parliamentarily,
It’s no wonder new recruits get a little fidgety!

I fang you!

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Visitors to Nottingham, please take care,
They’ll be violence, so please be aware,
Knifings, we’ve more than our fair share,
Murderers, muggers, things are austere!

At night, folks go out for fun and cheer…
They’ll drink anything, gin, absinthe or beer,
Then they’ve no inhibitions, nothing to fear,
Until they start to feel odd and queer?…
Drugged without knowing it, poor dear!

Club girls may get spiked and get dizzy and quave,
Mugged, car stolen, or kidnapped and used like a slave…
You can get your pocket-picked on roads and alleyways…
Molesting, stabbings, shootings, anytime or ways…
Not many policemen around to help nowadays!

If you’ve been to Nottingham before, had a few stays,
You’ll be able to vaticinate our criminality & illegal ways,
But Nottingham has some things worthy of praise…
I’ll think of something one of these days…
Oh, and we have many prison breaks, escapes and runaways!

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Inchcock’s Local News Snippets

15 years for manslaughter for McGhee?
Life for the other two scumballs, see?
Killer Cox got life; in ten years, he was set free!
The Justice system is crap.. clearly…
Bet they’ll all be out again to murder freely…
No justice in this; they’ve been sentenced improperly…
Life should be for life, not released early!
Parole is cheaper for HMG, evidently…
129 criminals have been freed (UK) to kill again, freakily!
It’s the Judges and Parole Board that are guilty!

Fourteen pathetic months! Are the Judge and or Lawyers taking bribes or just the piss! Weapons, drugs, abuse, ignoring the court’s restraining order… already committed 33 offences, and the namby-pamby on the bench slaps his wrist? Is he supplying the inept, corrupt, guilty, ‘Free murderers to kill again’ Parole Board and other officials with drugs then? Grant will undoubtedly be able to build a reserve stock of cheap drugs while he’s inside. He’ll doubtless be freed in six months maximum to attack the lady again… Justice in the hands of cowards!

It seems that Nottingham’s cowardly bullies are turning their attention to easier targets nowadays. Old folk. Time for us old un’s to get tooled up – like the murderers who get life in prison and are freed by the shit-headed, ‘They didn’t mean it’ Parole Boarders a few years later to kill again… But no, better not, if we were to do that and we shot a mugger, we’d get sent down for longer than murderers do. Of course, gang-landers do have the advantages of having the drugs, young ladies and cash to back-hand the (A member working 115 days would be likely to receive between £30,000 to £40,000) murderer-freeing Parole Boarders. Just a thought!

Nine years for a brutal killer? Another pathetic sentence?Might be a good idea to let him board with his Parole Officer when he gets out in four years?

Tried and sentenced at last. Five years & nine months, plus an eight-month concurrent sentence for fraud. Nice!

I imagine that Daniel is laughing all the way to this prison after getting this sentence? He’ll be out within 7 months, I reckon?

At least they are keeping the crud-nuts in custody!

Oh, Dear, Oh Dear!

VERY NICE!

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odeing

/ Inchie / 24 Comments

Brief Diary – with Boringly Long Ode…

One hell of a Messy Day!

Friday 13th May 2022

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

I made my way to the wet room, pleased with how I was getting about, balance-wise. But was not too keen on how the Porcelain Throne evacuation went. Trotsky Terence had a more significant say in things. Thus it was messy and a semi-splurting affair. Needing a lot of cleaning up doing after the event.

I decided to get a stand-up wash, teeth, medicationing and shave, etc. done as I was there. The shaving well, well, one… just one nick on the chin. (The teeth cleaning I forgot to do, I did it later when I remembered).

Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Arthur Itis knees, Colin Cramps’ hands and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all medicated. I got dressed, thinking the Carer may soon be here.

Turned on the computer…

Boy, was I pissed off? YES, I was! Grrr! The thoughts of Liberty-Gobal’s Mr Fries getting so much salary and bonuses, and he can’t get an internet signal to work in Nottingham…

DOWN AGAIN

I turned everything off, leaving it for ten or fifteen minutes. Unplugged the lot. Then restarted the hub and, five minutes later computer. Gave it longer to sort itself out and into the kitchenette Humph! Stubbing my toe on the way against the server trolley wheel.

This is not going to be as short a dairy as I planned. My EQ had spoken, “Be prepared for a messy day! So I did!

From the depths of despair, I rose into flabberghastedness! Not only did the internet start, but when I slipped in the SD card – it worked the first time!!! So I got these photos from yesterday loaded to put on here. I didn’t get too excited, though, after I found that some were refused as ‘wrong format’, which they are not; I levelled off my mental state down to ‘Ah, well, I knew summat else would knacker things up!’ mode.

The first two are from the Health Checks, and the results were not too bad either. I’ve had much worse this week.

Oh, dear, now I’ve had to stop. Frustration, self-derogatory tongue lashings and self-hating had to have a few minutes with me! I realised I’d already put these on yesterday’s blog. Of course, I should have been blaming Dementia Doreen! But having to live with her, I didn’t want to make her angry with me! Hehehe! Good job that I didn’t lose more time and recognised that I’d posted them. But definitely, positively, no Smug-Mode was deserved!

When I made a brew and took this photo while doing so. The morning weather was how I felt, a smidge down, dank and not too hopeful. Hey-Ho! Hello, another trip to the Porcelain Throne was indicated…

2 So, off for the second visit of the day. Trotsky Terence was in even more control this time. The liquidifation of things was more advanced, which meant less need and time for cleaning up my delicate areas on the plus side! I used the minus side, which saved time cleaning up the splashed and liquid ricochets.

I took a photograph of the Winwood Heights, Chestnut Way, end car park. I was most concerned not to see RVM (Red-Van-Mans’) van parked on the yellow chevrons. In fact, I could not see it anywhere. He’ll be out at an AA meeting, his probation officer or visiting his mates in prison, mayhaps? Hehehe! Only joking! He’ll be working somewhere.

I pressed on with updating yesterday’s blog. Eventually, getting it done and posted. When I went to get a drink of spring water, I realised that it was beyond 09:00hrs. And no Carer had called yet. I’ll give them a little longer; usually, someone rings if they will be late?

I’m getting fed up with this – Haha! 3: I moved on to Facebooking the blog, went on the TFZer and Winwood Heights pages, read, and replied to some comments. After about an hour… back to the throne. The evacuated product was of a similar nature to the last visit. The jets of liquid were far more powerful… thus messy and needed cleaning again.

I got the bags into the kitchenette, ready to sort them out. I made a start on this blog, it was slow going, Doreen, and the brain’s concentration made things difficult for me. Then, the intercom rang forth and flashed. It was the Amazon shopper delivering my order. He even brought up the flowers first so that the bunches didn’t get crushed. Then he brought the rest up. Bless him.

I go the flower treats put safely stored from crushing, firstly. Today, the treats are for Deana, Julie and Jenny. I rang Jenny to see which one she fancied. Jenny opted for the centre bouquet.

The pink one. At least, I think the first two are pink. They’ve gone now, and I can’t remember the names, Tsk! Oh, yes, I can, one of them, the left one, Chrysanthemums! Sad, innit? My being colour blind and not a new thing that isn’t.

Around 1963 I failed a medical for a job on British Rail as a goods train guard. I found out that I suffered from protanopia – basically, I cannot identify reds from other close colours, orange, maroon etc. Then a couple of years ago, they told me I now (then) had dichromatism, having trouble identifying primary reds, greens and blues. Now I’d acquired Saccades in the right eye and glaucoma and cataracts. See what I mean? Hahaha!

Oh, heckythump, was I waffling on there! Sorry. Back to the diary…

I got the frozen things away. Vegetable burgers, iced orange lollies, potato bakes, potato bites and potato croquettes. I was pretty pleased with how I conjured around the stuff in the freezer to make room for the new stuff.

Then the fridge products, not many today, I intend to use up some of the canned foods. (We’ll see?). Tomatoes, sugar snap peas, mushroom pates, veg sausages, strawberry & grape pots to treats, that’s about it. Ah, no, well, yer see… I suppose you do… Those fresh cream French Horns? I blame one of my sweethearts on the TFZer Facebook page; I have a few. She just loves fresh cream French Horns, and when I eat one, it reminds me of Janet.

Janet and me in the photo here… in a dream I had! ♥ I’m off waffling again!

Cans of Chilli-Con-Carne, pots of jelly & custard, potatoes, fries, vegetable stock, tomato puree with herbs, a lemon, five bananas, a bottle of orange cordial, and a can of chilli soup make up the rest of the the the items purchased.

I got the fodder all stored away (The cupboards and freezer are close to cram-packed now). Then back on the blogging for an hour or two. Suddenly it dawned on me… nearly midday, and no Carer had arrived? I called Warden and Ballerina Julie and or Warden and Desktop dancer Deana to tell them the flowers are ready for collecting; if they can manage it. Julie answered and said she would come up to see me. I can mention the Carer missing again when she comes.

After making the call, I began to fear that I may have made an error. I was confused, and Dementia Doreen was making me fret; someone had called? I checked on the Meridian call register but could not read it with my eyes… I feared that if I say owt, and it turns out they have already been… I’m going to be regarded as a plonker of the first order? I took some faith that I was shaking a lot more than usual. The last time they failed to show, I’d gone so long without the medications; I got the shakes when they arrived. And boy, was I beginning to shake now! Yes, I was!

Back to my blogging, this is taking far too long. Interruptions of various sorts, and now Herbert had kicked off with his tap-tapping. He didn’t go on for too long. Oh, I think he just dropped something metallic, then!

Warden & ballerina Julie came in. I asked her if she would please take the flowers for Jenny, as I was expecting a delivery and call from the hospital, and she kindly agreed. I mentioned that I don’t think a Carer has been, and she said I was shaking and shuddering. Julie checked the Meridian log and said no one had been. She would mention it to them when she got back to the office. I thanked her, and off she trotted.

It then dawned on me why I’d ordered so much stuff for the freezer. Last week Richard said he would sort the dates of everything in the fridge and freezer for me. I knew I had some meat products I did not want and hoped that Richard would take them off my hands. So there will be plenty of room to get today’s stuff in it. But Richard had another call, and the lad was knackered from his shift yesterday and could sort the freezer for me. Hope he feels better and gets a good break. I’ll miss the lad, but glad he’s got a holiday to recover from his exhaustion.

I started blogging again, and someone from Meridian called me on the landline. She said they were very sorry about this morning, and a Carer is on their way to me now. I said thank you. Shame it had to happen for the seventh time since I’ve been paying them to come. Obviously, Julie had told them for me. Hey-ho, and pickle my walnuts!

Carer Valerie came into the flat, and she got my medications given. She asked me what happened with the morning’s Carer. I said I’ve no idea. Valerie said about me shaking a bit. I thought it had stopped, but apparently not. There is constantly shaking of some sort with Peripheral Neuropathy, but it was more violent this time and uncontrollable now. Thanked Val, and off she trotted. Within half an hour of taking the medicines, I think the shaking was back to normal.

I’m struggling to get the blog updated now. The concentration has been destroyed by all the complications of the day. I took the comfort of some sort in knowing things should calm down now… Did I say that?…

I got a text message, “Feet today!” reminder came in: The foot lady at the hairdressing salon told me it’s my day to have the feet done! Argh! No time to get nowt done!

4 Then it really irritated me that I needed Porcelain Throne visit number four! Just when I didn’t need it, I’m not going to be popular for keeping them waiting when I get down to the salon… mind you, I don’t expect I was before. Hehe! The evacuation was more liquified this time, but it was over quickly.

So, I fumbled and bumbled about again, and I got myself down to the ground floor salon. The looks I was greeted with said, “Oh, here it is, about time too!” They got the feet tended to, not without the odd ‘Argh’ emitting from my lips. I paid the £25, not cheap for getting one’s toenails done, but some other options are dearer. It’s terrible enough forgetting things, but then I gave my toe a stubbing against the airer as I went to get a quick wash. She gave me an appointment card, and I gave out some cans of treats. Then hastened ASAP back to the flat, fearing I may have missed the hospital’s call… Ain’t life a git some days? Well, most in my case!

Tried to get the blogging update advanced, and Valerie (the whisperer) came in the room, apparently talking to me as I typed away on the blog. Of course, I couldn’t hear her. She was returning the laundry. Treated to a little pack of grapes and strawberries. Bless her.

I put the oven on and, got some chilli on the pan, added some spirit vinegar to it and some peas. I’ve been assured that the spirit vinegar will lessen the sharpness of the chilli. After adding the peas and getting the hob going, I took a nibble. And it works! Yee-Haa!

17:15hrs The Evening Carer arrived. The morning caller was 7 hours late, and the evening one was an hour early. They must be having problems. However, the evening medications are mostly Warfarin blood thinners, Lansoprozole for Duodenal Donald, Codeine & Paracetamol pain killer, Ramipril, Peptic Antacid, and Atorvastatin Cholesterol inhibitor. The Folfiri has been stopped for six months to assess. A shame that I missed having the nurse call every day. Hahaha!

Turned everything off and got the nosh sorted out. Vegetable chilli con carnie, with cubes of potatoes done in the oven. Nice and crispy!  I soaked it up with two of the wholemeal bread rolls.

Janet and my favourite fresh cream French horns were gobbled up after the meal. There was a smidgeon of guilt lingering though afterwards. Hehehe! A Taste and Flavour Rating of 9.3/10.

Washed the pots up and spotted the sun on its way down. Despite having a shaking bout at the time (again!), I managed to get two decent, just usable pictures of it.

I took three or four, but the others didn’t come out well. Although not as vivid as some, I thought these two represented a sort of sadness. Then again, nowadays, me not being convinced, confident, in or of something, is usual, the norm! I’m not sure why.

Got a wash, and I stripped off and got down into the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, musty, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner.

Then the Thought Storms launched into activity. Starting off with just how good my EQ was this morning with his forecast for the day!

This day’s events have made me even more confident in the validity of my EQ assessments and warnings. For once, I have indubitableness! I must, and will, never doubt EQ’s veridicality again.

But the self-despising, guilt, shame, failure, and bad judgments flowed through the Thought-Storms. It took ages for them to slow down enough to let me get off to sleep. Humph!

ODE TO THE DAY

My EQ warned me as soon as I woke up this Friday…
That day was going to be frustratingly messy!
There was undoubtedly no festivity but a lot of fetidity,
Leaving me with panicky mental fatiguability,
The unexpected, or forgot about, and incongruity,
Doreen Dementia, making things go recalcitrantly,
At times, I just accepted my increasing insanity…
And after so many mishaps, by own banality!

I lost hours getting the Liberty-Global net back on,
I hate things technical, electric, mobiles and silicon…
Turned all off and then back on…
Somehow got it going again, thereon…
Which cheered me up, but just a fraction,
For EQ’s warning, it was like a klaxon!

The carer was late; they’d forgotten about me,
Delayed medications (6-hours), causing psychoactivity,
And I got the shakes, and sweats, all involuntarily,
Took the belated tablets, and soon less shaky…happily!
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies lesion, bloodily…
Arthur Itis, Colin Cramps, and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Toe stubbing, painful Porcelain Throne evacuating…
Hopes for an improvement turned out to be delusorily!

Every happening seems to be unfair, conspiratorily…
With the pressure of not knowing, I shook more giddily,
I got more and more uptight, responding haughtily,
I was not coping with things, well I was… but badly,
Self-pity raised its head often, and depression, sadly
Five visits to the Throne, and, Oh, many a wee-wee!
I was faffling around, like Old Mother Riley,
Ways out and solutions were well beyond me…
I knew I was in for a long day… fiddle-dee-dee!

My thoughts and concentration, or lack of I say…
Were thataway, thereaway, thisaway, anyway…
Will this stampede of failure and confusion ever fade away?
I started to fret and worry over silly things, minutiae!
Unimportant, useless, unwanted confusing clamjamfry…
Will I ever recover common sense, memory or logicality?
Then a text message reminder was sent to me…
‘Feet Today’, Toe cutting, £25 more to throw away!

I’d forgotten about the feet, got down to the salon alreet,
Being late arriving, her greeting look was like a bleat…
Painfully had my toenails cut and oiled on both feet,
Gave them each can of plonk as a peacemaking treat
And back to the flat in a hasty retreat…
Where I made chilli, that was a pleasure to eat…
But sleep was resistant; that wasn’t so sweet!

Odes Scribed To Cause A Smile and-or Laugh – I fank you!