Inchcocksi – Monday 26th October 2020: The evenings effluviums, were evil!

A TFZeress performs at the ‘Sock-it-to-them’ stage night!

Monday 26th October 2020

Esperanto: Lundo 26a de Oktobro 2020

00:40hrs: I woke with the shakes and aches, especially from SSS Shoulder-Shaking-Shirley. Likely due to the shoulder-charge into the wet-room door frame, yesterday. Made all the worse, as is to be expected, hitting the wood with the dodgy neurotransmitter affected right-side, but bouncing off it and hitting the left shoulder: And going down against the grain! – I don’t want to do that again! – Oh, the feeling a fool, and pain! – T’was, the Peripheral Neuropathy, to blame! Not the best poetry, but it can naturally to me, Hehe!

As I lay there waiting for things to calm down, I hoped and prayed the need for a wee-wee didn’t arrive. It did! However, not until things were near normal again with the shakes, so nae bother Phew! I got my bulbous-bellied body free of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and with no need to rush, I made my way carefully to the wet-room. Memories of the collision and tumble fresh in my memory made me a soupçon nervous as I went through the door. But all went well!

I soon wondered why I’d bothered going at all. The wee-wee, although now of a lighter shade, thus less infected, just wasn’t interested about coming out through Little Inchy? The bladder told me I had plenty of urine ready to flow, but only a few sprinkly drops escaped, and they still managed to sprinkle over me and the WC! What a waste of time and effort! Another cleaning up job!

There was a new stinging pain from the rear end, not a Haemorrhoid Harold sort of spasm, though. I investigated… gently… Argh! A new furuncle methinks! Oy, oy, oy! Here I go again, is it a sadist who likes pain, or a masochist? Hahaha!

I made my way to the kitchenette and got the kettle plugged in and turned on. Then started the Health Checks. I began with the Enoxaparin injectionalisationing. I do like these new hypodermics, far less painful than the old ones, to use, but no blue blood squalls are showing afterwards, at all?

BP sphygmomanometer showed that the SYS had gone down well from yesterday’s 171.

The pulse was up a bit, but this was nothing for me to fret over, methinks. I still can’t work out why this machine stopped working and has come back on?

The view outside, offered a magnificent spot of cloud-reading, with a pronounced and seeable creatures head (just left of middle in this photograph wot I took), I was tickled pink with it. Can you see it? I had to take the picture before the image changed. The nose, eye, mouth, with a chin as well, maybe a tail? The easiest bit of pandiculating, ever! Smug-Mode-Decon 3-Adopted! Hehehe! 

Back to Health Checking. The fancy new infrared thermometer came up with a temperature form the forehead, of 33.5°c, which seems fair enough.

I made the brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, dropping the milk sachet as I emptied it into the mug. Clapbogsworthyness! More bending and cleaning again! Tsk!

Of course, I wasn’t upset, annoyed or irked in the slightest about SSS making me have to clean up and go through the agony of going on my knees, and washing the floor. Or the even more painful task of getting back up on my feet. No, I took it all in my stride, almost jocularly, casually, with a pinch of salt! Huh!

As I was getting the computer going, the bladder told me to go back to the wet room. So, casually, I did. Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, got there just in time, and talk about a different style, this release was of the SPUTE (Sharp-Persistent-Unwilling-To-End) mode. I was in there so long; I nearly grew a beard! Ah-well, it made a change.

I got on with the updating, time was flashing by for some reason, as I checked the watch. I felt a right Twillock when it dawned on me. I’d not changed the time on the magnificent timepiece that I got from the charity shop last year, for £2. Within days it started to go rusty, and within weeks needed a new battery for £15, and watchstrap (Which broke three days later), for £10. Still, it works. Hehe!

I got the waste-bags made-up, collected and collated, the onto the three-wheeler walker trolley. Rather a lot of them today, but I coped without any hassle to get them to the chute-room and deposited down the tube.

After more faffling about, getting things wrong and corrected, I think at least. I got it posted off to WordPress. I emailed the link. Pinterested some snaps, and had to move sharpishly back to the wet room, to utilise the porcelain Throne.

This session was so pongy, messy and almost green/Karki in colour, but that didn’t matter too much – cause it was a virtually painless evacuation! Yee-Haa! The first one for months! As I mentioned the other day, I think I did; A combination of the Dioctyl®, Macrogol®, Drinking a lot of water, and a few Chilli-Con-Carne meals seem at long last to have done the trick! I have another one later today, a canned job, not up to fresh cooking this Monday.

Mind you, and it costs me a fortune in toilet paper, WC cleaner, air-freshener, and disinfectant! Humph! Not to mention the agony of having to bend to clean up afterwards, and the inevitable dropping stuff or knocking it off the floor cabinet, and getting back on my feet again. Siver-Lining-Search-Results: At least I didn’t have any leg-dancers, dizzy spells, or wobblies! I lost a lot of time, though.

I decided after having a wash and anticepticalisationing session. I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie before getting back to the computing. Went on the WordPress Reader section, answered two comments (they flood in, don’t they). Then did the Facebooking catching-up. Created a template for today, which took me yonks, and then made a start on this blog.

A lot of dank-rain and sunshine as midday approached, ever-changing.

I hoped to find a possible rainbow, but no! The sun came out as I got on the balcony, and helped make another interesting cloudy picture for me.

My beloved, treasured, sweetheart of a vampire (phlebotomy), nurse, with her twinkling eyes, and beautiful smile arrived. She was in a hurry, as today I am an extra job for her, with having to have another blood test. I’m hoping they ring me back before I fall asleep to tell me the results, and what Warfarin doses and Enoxaparin injections to take. But it’s getting late now, so they might be late in letting me know. Never mind, though!

I got the can of Chilli in the saucepan on a low light and added some tomato & basil sauce, and Jenny’s yellow and red tomatoes sliced to the mix and stirred it well.

I didn’t want to fall asleep and get woken up again.

Oddly at the very time that I was writing this down, my £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang and lit up.

These specs, may not be the same as Inchcocks phone, seen here on the left pretending it is on the web and has a camera. The old chap Inchy, doctored the photo on CorelDraw to add his Sister Jane, Brother-in-law Pete, and their much loved and missed, Mr Fooey, the cat, to his actual mobile)

It was Julie from the Warfarin Unit, asking if I had a blood test this morning, and I concurred. She was concerned because they had not received the blood yet, nearly eight hours after it was taken? So, it looks like another night of no sleep coming up! I’d better turn off the Chilli-Con-Carne the, I don’t want it burnt.

Now, I’m worried about Hristina too. Oh, dear!

Went on CorelDraw to try and get a graphic done,  for the IT (Inchcock Today) page tops. I only got one completed, then Julie called back with the readings. I’ve to stop the Enoxaparin injections. My INR level is up to 2. Warfarins Tonight; 2 – Tue 2 – Wed 2½ – Thur 2 – Fri 2½ – Sat 2 – Sun 2½. Blood test for Wednesday needs arranging with my Doctor. I was confused about this; I think she sensed this and said she would ring for me, thank you, Julie.

I took the medications. Washed, jammies on, got the nosh sorted. This canned Chilli-Con-Carni is not half-bad at all. I had two mini-pots of lemon mousse, and some brown bread thins with it. Using the tomato and basil cooking sauce in it, made things just a tad hotter than I would have liked, I’d hoped that Jenny’s yellow tomatoes would have calmed it down a bit. But I still gobbled it all up. Mmm! Tim Price, an enthusiast, connoisseur, aficionado, and Bon Vivant of all things ‘Chilli’ would have been proud of me. And also, besides and as well as, he thinks my new-found taste for chilli-con-carne, will keep things flowing in the Porcelain Throne area! I might try some rice with it next time.

As I washed the meal things, well, not the basin, that needed soaking in a bowl for a day or two in bleach and strong washing-up liquid to get the chilli stains out of it. Hahaha!

At last, I got myself settled down. Better late than never, got the TV on, started to watch a Gordon Ramsay USA programme, and was most annoyed when I didn’t fall asleep!

When I did drop off, I was woken up by the dang wee-weeing needs, indeed, a rarity for me at night. Grumbleblocks!

I woke again later, and, the effluvium from the rear end, nearly had me choking, Cor blimey, that Chilli-Con-Carne!

Inchcock Today – Thursday 22nd October 2020: Back on the Enoxaparin Injections, so anticipate losing mind-control for a while. (Any excuse, Hehe!)

TFZer Thomas Hahaha!

Thursday 22nd October 2020

Spanish: Jueves 22 de Octubre de 2020

02:10hrs: When I eventually got to sleep, I enjoyed 4½ uninterrupted hours of dream-free, bliss! Heavenly!

The regular wee-wee was needed by myself, and it was another dribbling a few drops and gently spraying it around. Tsk! However, on testing the colour, it had gone a shade lighter, at last! I’m not going to get too hopeful though, cause the antibacterial capsule have finished now, antibacterial? No, that’s wrong, antibiotics, I meant. So, after 12 days of taking them, and finishing the course, things improve?

My mind was not too sharp this morning (Not that ever is, Hehe!). I got a wash, and then fumbled and bumbled my to the kitchenette, and took two snaps of the morning skyline view. (Later, I doctored them as best I could on CorelDraw, to make this picture below. Not too bad.

Got the kettle on, and did the Health Checks. I opened the wrong medical drawer and got the Boots machine out, instead of the new one. I decided to try it anyway, and blow-me-down, it worked!?!? I’ll keep using this while it lasts, it’s quicker than the new tin-covered one.

The SYS was a bit high again. I thought I’d push my luck and try the old thermometer, but it wasn’t playing, so I got the new laser one, but was disappointed in the low reading. Still, I don’t think that 32.4°c is too bad. I’m sure it has been lower than that at times.

I got the computer on, and found this graphic I’d taken off the screen yesterday, and forgot to publish it. It’s the latest figures for Nottingham for Coronavirus. The ‘Your Area’ E-newsletter arrived, and I had a quick perusal of it. And in the comments section at the bottom of the page, I came across this contribution: I don’t know if it’s right or not, but if it is, I’m not happy about it:

I got carried away again there, sorry.

As I was about to take the second Dioctyl of the day, then a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, l was off to the wet room again.

Well, such a pleasant surprise there, mate. Even less pain, no bleeding or mess, and from start to finish, took only a couple of minute! Mind you; the tank had to be flushed three times to rid the evacuated matter! Hey-ho!

Back to the computer, I plodded. To find that Liberty-Global Virgin Media internet, kept clonking out and coming back on. Grrr! So the updating of yesterdays blog took much longer than it should have. Thank you, Mr Fries!

I made a start on this blog. And shortly, the Vampire Angel Nurse Hristina arrived, and in a hurry, got me sorted out, and still managed to have little gossip as well, which was nice. She asked what the noise was, and I explained it was just ‘Herbert’ making his train models. I do love that gal, nothing naughty in it, she’s just a beautiful, caring person.

I tried to do an Iceland order for next week. Got on alright, did the ordering, okay, but, the system would not take my PayPal payment, I was getting sent all over the place to get back on, but it was no use, I gave up in the end, and, frustrated, and a little worried in case I’d been high-jacked? I cancelled the order manually and had to do a Sainsbury one instead.

I was concerned that after I got the order done, they might not take my payment – Worried? Me? – Yes!

The Morrison order is due today, and I was slowly moving into a Defcon-2 panic mode. I got the Sainsbury order finished, and there was no problem with the payment? But the usual confirmation via email has not come in? Glibblebonks! Always summat to worry about! Hello, it’s just come in, Phew!

I looked at the E-Magazine again and came across this item about the Nottingham City Homes flat complex in Clifton. It was about the garages being demolished. Blimey, that’s a high block! Saccades Sandra is stopping me counting at the moment, but it must be 24 storeys or so high. Impressive

I had a look for any Coronavirus updates when the new Email came in. But none in there.

Then the Morrison delivery arrived. I got them took through to the kitchenette post haste.

Got the bits put away, and set to getting the Jenny stuff in a separate carrier bag, to take down to her apartment. I’d ordered some things for Jen, Doris and Frank to nibble as a thank you.

But, it turned out I’d got substitutes that I cannot eat, or don’t like. Also… I may have made an error, thinking that the strawberry and cream dessert was an individual one; it turned out to be a massive bowlful! Ah, well, at least they can eat them up.

No refuse sacks, Bramley apple pie, or soft sandwich thins delivered. And as for the 2 x 3oz, Zoflora orange disinfectant, none of that either – they sent 3 x Cheapo Pibne disinfectant, and they were ¾ pint jobs! Why do they make substitutes like that, Grrr! The apple pie was subbed with apple & blackcurrant ones, which I don’t like (Blackcurrants). Add to the misery with my pwn cock-up in ordering a mammoth dessert for a tiny individual one, and it was a bit of disaster today with shopping all around.

I got the waste bags on the trolley to go out with me to the chute, and two carrier bags, one inside the other, with Doris and Jenny’s treats in, there was more than I had planned, but it’s lovely to think that a pair of lovely ladies can have a treat!

Off to the waste chute room, dropped down the bags, and returned to the lift, down to Jenny’s, rang the bell, I was struggling to open the door and get the trolley through, and Jen appeared and thanked me. Lif back up and in the flat. Struggling even more getting the trolley back inside, I fear, well, I know, that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, was readying himself, and building up to launch into one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances. It’s the tingling and wobbly knee-cap that gives him away. Hahaha!

Got the oven on and put the fish in to cook, and updated as far as here on the blog. Had enough now, time to eat and collapse, before the leg-dancing starts, I hope.

By Gawd, that was such a tasty meal, not a lot, but it went down a right treat! Mmm! A Taste-Rating of 8.5/10! Got the pots in the sink to soak, had a swig of the pathetic Peptac antacid, washed, and made my way back to the recliner to take the medications and get my head down.

As I had just got down on the £300, c1968, second-hand recliner, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched the half-anticipated right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routines. It honestly couldn’t have been better timed for once! I was snug and safe from falling over onto the floor as well! The leg offered up its version of a faltering, single-legged cross between the Cha-cha-cha and the Rumba!

Had it not been for the clouting of the toes, ankle and knee against the recliner and ottoman, I would have enjoyed it! I anticipated finding a couple of new bruises in the morning methinks.

I got the TV on and kept taking swigs of the spring water, as the Doctor ordered, to help get the bacterial infection and colour of the affected wee-wee down. But not for long, within about an hour, I found I was battling against the drooping eyelids to watch the TV, and that was good enough for me.

I turned off the gogglebox, and was in a deep sleep, dreaming about a black and a tabby cat, who were adoring each others company, and in the dream, I got a cream cake out to eat… the cats went berserk, and all hell was let loose as they fought each other to get to the cream first! Much more happened, I think, but this is all I could remember at the time of writing this. I found the photo to use, on Google, it is just like they were, all lovey-dubby before the cream came to disturb their bliss. Hehehe!

Immediately after, or it may have been during the dream, I woke up with a start, and could hear a grinding noise, that was loud, but died away quickly. I’ve no idea what it was or where it came from. But this did not bother me, and somehow I was soon back off in the land of nod again!

Deep in slumber once again, and the Landline flashed away, and I fought my way out of the recliner, clouting my elbow en route to the phone.

It was the lady from the QMC (Queens Medical Centre) Warfarin Anticoagulation, and DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis), INR Assessment Clinic, with the semi-panic-creating blood-test results. 

I knew what was coming. The first thing the lady said was: ‘Have I woke you up?’, I replied, ‘Yes, thank-you’ and offered a laugh with it. Getting a giggle back from her, assured me she was a good one to talk to. The lady informed me that the INR result was only 1.3 (Target being 3.2). If I go below 1.2, it means hospitalisation for me.  I knew what was coming, time to go on the Enoxaparin injections again, I was right. She asked if I had any in stock, and I stumbled to the kitchen to have a look at what was there; I’d got two 40ml, and three 80ml hypodermics in the drawer. “Oh, good, then you’ll last until Monday, 80ml a day. Another blood test will be done then. ‘I’ll ring your Doctor and tell her of the urgent need for the Enoxaparin needles’. I asked, does this mean I’ll have to go to Carrington to collect them?’ – ‘Yes!’ I was losing my sense of humour now!

I wrote down the new Warfarin dosages, for up to Monday, and the dates etc. I hope, looking at my half-asleep writing, that I can read and understand them in the morning. The Warfarin doses were plain enough, I think—3 tablets tonight, and 2½ daily in the evenings until Monday. I mentioned to the nurse, the Dioctyl and MacBid tablets I’ve been on and why. She thinks these may have had some effect on the Warfarin level. I, on the other hand, knew what the problems had been that caused this emergency.

Obviously, with the Coronavirus, things are so much harder for the staff, and some have been moved to help deal with the virus. So, in their wisdom, the NHS has decided to investigate and free-up more staff for the Covid-19 wards, by not doing any home calls for Warfarin takers, but tell them to go to the hospital for their blood tests! Christ, I hope they never do that to me!

The other thing they have been doing is; if any patient gets three in-range INR results on the trot, they will leave it three weeks until the next one, which has just happened to me, hence, now my at risk grading has gone up. I can look forward to the agony of fetching my medications, giving myself injections, and am now all in a muddle in what needs doing, when and why! Flibblegonkackles! Still, it’s not nice to complain.

I thanked the lady, and set about sorting the medications, and will leave them out on the clothes airer, so I don’t forget to take them. I felt a positive fool when I found a couple more Enoxaparin hypos!

Well, I didn’t know fully where I was or supposed to be doing by then. Oh, yes, the needle! I got the injectionalisationing done. There is a lot more flobby-blubber around the boing-boing overweight stomach to pick a spot to puncture nowadays. Humph! Haha!

Not having done any injecting for a few weeks, it made me jump a bit. I think that Nicolas’s Neurotransmitters let me down, and I pushed the needle in a little too hard, but the message did not get to the brain in time? A lot of that is happening lately, Hahaha! Hey-ho!

Worran ‘orrible end to the day!

And ask for sleep, huh!

Inchcockski – Wednesday 21st October 2020: I had a few Cacoethes urges, today. Mmm?

Wednesday 21st October 2020

Punjabi: ਬੁੱਧਵਾਰ 21 ਅਕਤੂਬਰ 2020

23:00hrs (Tuesday): I stirred after at least an hours sleep, (Humph!) needing a wee-wee. I forced my gargantuan-bellied body out of the c1968 recliner, stood to catch my balance, grabbed metal Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) and made my way to the wet room. I keep a clear basin in their nowadays, to check the colour, against the NHS guide. It was still on code six colouring, so no progress gleaned whatsoever with using the Dioctyl® antibiotic capsules for nearly a week now. Humph! I had a good wash and antisepticating session and made my way to the kitchenette, to get the kettle on first, then get the Health-Checks done.

The new slow-motion, noisy tin-encased BP sphygmomanometer, showed a highish level for the SYS again, but the pulse was down a fair bit. (I checked later with Mr Google, about the Sys 164/Dia 167 level) He told me: Blood pressure 164/67 – what does it mean?: Your blood pressure reading of 164/67 indicates Hypertension Stage 2. It is the second stage of high blood pressure. Hypertension Stage 2 means that the heart has to work hard too to ensure a supply of the entire tissue in the body. Oh!

I used the non-contact thermometer and got a reading of 32.1°c, which I thought was a bit too low.

So I tried it again and got 33,9°c, I held it a little closer to the forehead this time. I’ll still get to find out how close it should be when using. I got the magnifying glass and had a look at the instructions, not easy; it was in such minuscule writing. But with my SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) shaking my about, it was hard to hold the paper steady, and being so magnified, every movement blurred. I found it was a recommended distance of 3-5cm. After some farting about with arithmophobia infected calculations, I think that 1.5748cm = 4 inches, which is about what I had the second reading of. I’m not sure if I have Numerophobia, mathematics-anxiety or arithmophobia, but 3 to 5 inches then? Hang, that’s where I started with centimetres! I’ve got a headache now!

I stopped to take a snap of the morning view, but it didn’t come out well.

I took the medications, but no requirement for any of the pathetic, pitiable, low, Peptac antacid medicine this morning, as Duodenal Donald is currently giving my only the slightest bit of pain? Bless him!

So, after discovering from Mr Google, that I was about to snuff it, through hypertension, or high-blood-pressure, I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. It might not help the situation, but this. Extra Strong Assam, and the Glengettie teas, are all super-tasty! Hehe!

I got onto the computer, but only had time to boot it up, and the demand for a Porcelain-Throne visit arrived. The balance was right as I hobbled to the wet room, no walking into anything, this was good!

I got settled on the seat, and within a few seconds and a little encouraging pushing on my behalf, the action started – painful, yes, but no more than usual, all over fairly quickly, and tons of it! But no chance to do a turd examination for the hospital checking-log, the mass had disappeared from view! No mess, the tiniest specs of blood, and even Harold’s Haemorrhoids were relatively calm as well! But experience told me not to get into any hopeful or smug modes, yet! One flush and the TP vanished, surprises galore this Wednesday morning!

A good wash, medicationalisationing and disinfecting, and back to the computer. I concentrated on the updating of the Tuesday blog, photographs uploaded first. With Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters also being so kind to me, I achieved my goal quicker today. Now, I couldn’t help but get into a Smug-Mode! Hahaha! This luck can’t last, yer no!

I posted the blog off then Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching-up. Then went on the WordPress Reader section.

Duodenal Donald started to warm up with his usual tightening in readiness for a full-blown ‘Let’s give Inchcock some agony’ attack. At the same time, the innards started rumbling, so I can expect to return to the Porcelain Throne again soon.

I made a pot of tatties and veg with cheese for brekkers, but as I was making it, I had to rush, hell-for-leather to the Porcelain Thrones second-visitation! However, I can safely report, this session was an emphatical improvement; on the previous few days! However (There’s always something to gum the works up!), the tank needed filling by hand, and three flushes to move things down the hole. I had an excellent wash-up session.

Back to the kitchen to try and rescue the pot of potatoes. I added a drop more freshly boiled was to the pot, mixed some vegetable stock and Squid vinegar to it and had an excellent bashing up with it. Ate it all, enjoyed it and was feeling okay in myself.

I returned to the kitchen to take these three shots on the right. Two of along Chestnut Walk in the drizzle and dank, dark surroundings, eerie eh? The last one, I took directly opposite the impossible to get to clean without being an olympian athlete. The light & view-blocking, rain letting in, with a ledge that sticks out so far, one cannot see down onto the roadway to take pictures of the incoming fire engines and paramedic ambulances. The layout, that was most likely created and designed by a person with gerontophobia. A confirmed inter-generational hater or who loves to hear of some old git tumbling off of his step ladder, each time he tries to reach up to get at his new windows to clean them. Just thought I’d mention it!

As I was putting the camera away, I saw that I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running yet again! Boulderclumps! What an imbecilic nincompoop! I seem to be doing this every other day lately!

I made a mug of Glengettie tea and had a blast on the computerisationing for an hour or so, and then it was time for the ablutioning to get done. Dare not leave it any later, because I’ve no idea what time the vampire nurse will be calling to take my blood sample.

Doing the ablutions today is going to be either fun, a farce, or both, with no hot tap water to shave! The shower should have hot water, though.

I stripped and got the teggies cleaned, then reboiled the kettle and took it with me back to the wet room, to use taking a shave. It was not a comfortable, messy shave, and certainly not a good one, but I managed. My fault anyway. Humph!

Thank heaven, the shower water was nice and hot. But, lamentably, several dropsies. I had two hefty bangs against the grab rail, a toe-stubbing against the shower chair, spoilt the experience. Then, doing the medications, I knocked many items of of the floor cabinet. So things didn’t end up too well for me, but I’ve had much worse sessions, so no complaints. I can say, however, that the Morrison bought lemon shower gel, really was refreshing and smelt okay to me!.

All sorted out, and I returned to the computer room, and nipped out on the balcony, to take some photographs. The first one from the opened window to the right, weel, the left one as well. They both have the near-lethal, metal spring opening clips, that have caused a fitter to bleed, even after I’d warned him, and many a stranger to get blood-blisters opening it, both of them as well as myself on many occasions! I reported this fault to the Nottingham City Homes Repairs team, who about six weeks later, sent two men down to take an investigative look, one of them got the blood blister and cut. They agreed it was dangerous and should not have been put in old people residences and said they would report it as soon as they get back to base. That was encouraging. It was also many months ago, and I’ve heard nothing from them since. Still, yer doesn’t like to complain does yer.

The second photo was taken from the injury-causing, left end window. That was of a stretch of Chestnut Walk to towards the but turn-around island. A few red vehicles on site today, this will need reporting to the Ohio State, National Red Car Monitoring head-honcho, Billumski and his, Secretary Lisa!

I set about making a template for tomorrows blog. Got it finished… Hello, Herberts got his drill out again, flipping loud too! Still, as long as the flamboyant, happy-go-lucky, sociable chap is happy making his train sets. I could have said, “As long as the grumpy, sour, antisocial, snotty, stand-offish, aloof, eremetic old gentleman is happy…”

I got a landline call from Nottingham At Care HQ, to tell me that the INR vampire nurse was outside trying to get in, and the intercom was not working. Pickleglobknobs!

I told the lady that I’d get down as quickly as I could to let her in. Fumbled about getting the jammy-bottoms off and some trousers on. I dug out the keys and fob, put the mask on, and as I got to the door, the landline rang again. It was the same lady as before, to tell me that the Vampire Nurse had given up, she’ll try again tomorrow!

I bungled about getting the trousers back off, and the jammies back on. Put the keys and fob back, and hung the mask on the trolley bars. Life gets so very complicated, blustery and confusing, dunnit?

I turned off the computer, and started to put the potatoes from the crock-pot into the saucepan which held the Chilli-Con-Carne, with chopped tomatoes, onions and a can of baked beans added, put some Squid to the mix, and gave the food medley a jolly-good stirring.

Burning my right-hand index finger as I did so, but at least there was no pain, just the odd burning smell of the skin. Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had failed to inform the brain again. (I still find it humorous when this happens, Hehehe!)

I phoned Jenny, and we had a marathon nattering session which I enjoyed. Top-quality grumping and chuntering took place, and we were in our element, we do this so well, I reckon. Hahaha! During the chinwagging, Jenny asked me what the noise in the background was. I explained that it was Herbert, drilling, doing his train sets. It must have been loud for Jen to hear it on the other end of the line? (Although it didn’t last much longer, thankfully)

I thought I could smell something burning, panicked a smidge, told Jenny I had to check things out with the cooking and would be back, and blustered my way to the kitchen… to find that nothing was burning at all, in fact; instead of turning down the heat on the saucepan when I’d left to phone Jenny, I’d turned it off! What a plonker! As I returned, I noticed a smell of fish coming from somewhere in the hallway, so that might have been what got me going, either Josie or Malcolm must have been cooking fish, Haha!

I got back to Jenny, who’d waited patiently for me, and we continued our conversationing. A few more chunter and laughs, I even heard Franks voice in the background wishing me well saying hello, and I’ve never heard him before – I think the Chilli is good for my earholes? I am a fool! We parted with a farewell, and I went back to doing the meal.

Fifteen minutes later, the Chilli-Con-Carni was all served up on the tray, with two Irish Potato Farls and a pot of lemon mousse on the tray. By, gum, I eat well for an old fart!

I took the evening medications with me, so I could take the new tablets as recommended, with food. And there was a right bucketload of that in the dish, by gum it was good—Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, highly acceptable. Hopefully, in the morning, the first visit to the Porcelain Throne might be more comfortable… or not. Haha! My EQ tells me it could well be, though!

 Annoyingly, Sweet Morpheus was a long time coming again, but when he did, I had an unbroken straight-through, four-and-a-half hours of sweet bliss! Ahh!

Inchcock Today – Sunday 18th October 2020: Ogglebloc klump, eeruk!

You can’t keep a TFZeress Down! ♥

Sunday 18th October 2020

Afrikaans: Sondag 18 Oktober 2020

03:00hrs: I wrestled my body free of the recliner, and used the now relocated nearer to the recliner, EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and proceeded to sprinkle/spray weakly just about, around 3-fluid-ounces of waste-water into the bucket. Painfully, and it took me a few minutes to get rid of so little! No MAD (Micturition After-Dribble). Unfortunately, it was deep orange again! Cleaned and sanitised the bucket.

So, off to the kitchenette, I stumbled. Neither the BP sphygmomanometer nor the thermometers were working, (But I am hoping to have one of each delivered later today, from Amazon – hopefully not too late that I miss out on getting any Sweet Morpheus again!).

As I started taking medications, doubts came into my mind, I’d just taken four of the tablets, and there were still seven in the pot? I do not usually have eleven tablets of a morning, indeed? Confusionableitis reigned. Ah, of course, I’d put the Dioctyl® and MacroBid® in the pot with the others. Sorted!

I needed a second wee-wee, put the kettle on and meandered wobblingly to the wet room. By gum, what a difference this one was! Back to an OSVTP (Orange-Storming-Vicious-Torrential-Powerful) mode! Caught me out that did! 

Washed and medicated (Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding a bit), and to the computer, thanks to the incapable, overpaid, money-grabbing, predatory, rapacious, moralless, quomodocunquising Mr Fries’., pathetic Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media service being so bad, it took me three or four times as long as it should have to get the updating of the Saturday blog finished and posted! Oy-yoy-yoy!

I got the blog sent off, Pinterested a couple of photos, and spent some time on Facebooking catch-up. Went on the WordPress Reader section, some decent blogs on there today. I enjoyed answering some comments, although had to bother getting the replies to show up as taken, later finding out I’d responded to the same thing three or four times? Not sure if it was WordPress or the Internet that caused this. They both have a record of unreliability.

It seems like I’m having a lot of Whoopsiedangleplops this morning, things not going right etc., Grobbleknangles!

As I started to do this post

Summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. As I made my way to the wet room, I felt twitching coming from Neuropathic Pete’s right leg, which bodes that the ubiquitous was preparing to launch another of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routines. I hope it comes before I get in the shower, it’s always more dangerous when it happens there, ending up with more severe injuries. Fingers crossed!

Got down in the Throne, noticed some blood in the PP’s as I whipped them down, that’ll need investigating after the session. I feard a return to the Constipation Konrad mode, as things did not start, and pushing things along was too painful.

I got the crossword book out, did a fair job too, filled several answers in… well, alright, two! Things restarted, totally under the control of the innards, and swiftly evacuated, it felt to me as if a massive amount had been released. Still, when I rose, everything had disappeared without my flushing yet? The blood on the TP reminded me to have a check around, once flush and the water was cleared of everything. Confusionableitis was back!

Oh, Gragglespitgurgle! I was losing haemoglobin from front and rear! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had lost a fair bit, and the rear-end was still leaking blood! A rather delicate piece of cleaning up and medicationalisationing had to be done, now. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, if indeed it was from him, were extremely painful and tender. Good job I’ve ordered some over-the-counter Hydrocortisone cream to be delivered on Monday. And the Germoloids cream last week, cause I used a lot of them today, and after the ablutions, will need to do so again. Old age and senility, bring along challenges, pain, despair and embarrassments; so be prepared you young un’s out there. You’ve got to grit yer teeth! (Well, what few you’ve got left) Hehehe!

Al cleaned up and sorted, and I went to make a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Then made a start on this post, just as SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) started to kick off. (Elongated, Loud Sigh!) Luckily SSS didn’t stay with me for long, this time.

After a couple of hours, I stopped and put the computer into sleep mode, and went off to get the ablutions tended to. Hoping that SSS stay calmed down, and the Dancing leg will wait until after the showering and dressing, before attacking me again. What are the odds of that? Off to gather the needs and to the wet-room. I go a message on the mobile as I departed, left it until after the showering.

Ablutionalisationing Session Report

Under the circumstances, these being, that I have not shaved for a day and a half, so anticipated possible problems there, cut-wise, and Neuropathy Pete’s Warning of a possible right-leg, free-fall dance routine being imminent, things went reasonably well! The legs looked much betterer, too!

Shaving, there were a few nicks of course, but only a couple or so, no bad ones. A visit from Dizzy Dennis in the shower, again, not a bad one, and very short too. Just the one clout against the grab bar, when I was retrieving the shower-gel bottle, I’d dropped. An overall estimated total of dropsies is only about eight, that’s fabtabulous!


Got dressed and back to the kitchen, where I did the hand-washing. A zip-up jacket and pyjama bottoms were done, rung and hung to dry. They should be +done by about the end of November.

All hell let loose! I checked the message on my £240,000Black Diamond VIPN Smartphone… well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, a smidge of hyperbole crept in there. Hehehe!

The message was from Amazon, telling me the delivery of either the sphygmomanometer or thermometer or both, will arriving today, twixt 11:25 and 12:25hrs. Which is going to cock-up my plans for making Josie’s dinner!

I tried to get her, but realised it was not going to be easy, cause it was 09:00hrs, like SisterJane, Josie is a slugabed. In between making the bin-bags up and taken to the waste room chute, and prepping Josie’s fodder, I tried several times to get hold of Josie. 09:20hrs, 09:30hrs, and at 09:55hrs, she answered the door. I felt terrible waking her up. But needed to know if it was okay with her if I served her nosh earlier this week. I explained about the sphygmomanometer and maybe thermometer was being delivered twixt 1135>12:55hrs. And I needed to be down in the lobby then, to collect it or them. She confirmed this by reading the text on the mobile phone, informing me of the same.

No problem with that, the lady announced! Told me I didn’t look very well, and wished me the best, as she closed the door, bless her.

I got back in the apartment and took the second Dioctyl®, of the day, and got the crossword book in the three-wheeler, a pencil in my pocket, and hastened down of the lobby to await the arrival of the whatever it is coming from Amazon, via DHL, or is that DCL? I settled in the chair nearest the door so that I could keep an eye out for the van.

  • I got out the crossword book. But soon realised I had not taken the reading glasses with me. And soon put the crossword book back in the trolley bag.
  • The light in the lobby kept going out, frequently with the odd spell of flickering thrown in. So I wouldn’t have been able to to the crosswords even if I’d taken the reading spectacles with me!
  • Then I noted that I had not taken the lock-fob with me either!
  • I got up to stretch the pins, and clouted my ankle against the table!

I am not going so well again today.

I met Penny coming in. She was in a rush I could tell, but kind enough to have mini-natter with me.

An hour later, I spotted a white van going by, and it returned but went by the flats. At first, a mild-panic set it. “Is he delivering to the wrong block?”

Nope, all okay, he returned to Woodthorpe and handed me the box. It wasn’t immense or massive. I assumed that the contents would only be either the BP machine or the head-thermometer. I thanked the chap. Back up to the apartment to investigate. Got the trolley in the corner, and then realised I had not called Sister Jane back yet. So I did.

We had the odd laugh and natter, although the connection was a bit tinny and vague at times, I had to guess at what Jane was saying. I enjoyed it all the same.

Then, I set about checking out the new sphygmomanometer, that’s all that was in the box, a lot of packing paper though.

Many years ago, when I bought my first machine from Boots, it cost me £35, but it lasted well. Also, I can recall the first time that I used it an error message came up.

Well, it did with this new this one, too! Hahaha! It took about three times as long as the old one to come up with the results. Not complaining mind you, this metal (or tin) cased one, only cost me £19! My EQ told me not to get too hopeful with this one? 

I got on with searching the ‘YourArea’ email, for owt of interest. (Anything to stay awake, and not miss the thermometer coming)

I found two photographs that will be of interest to locals, maybe others.

 

 

 

 

And the latest Coronavirus figures.

Which seem to be getting slightly betterer this fine, more hopeful day?

I went on CorelDraw, to try and get some TFZer graphics done. I decided to fetch a bottle of my spring water first, to help with the wee-weeing, that has come to a stop! Guess who dropped the bottle and felt a right Schemiel in the process? Clapbogsworthyness! 

Aha! The second  Amazon man arriveth at the door, with the contactless Thermometer. I slipped the young man a can of plonk by way of thanks. Cause he looked so tensed up and unhappy. But it brought a smile to his face;  that was worth a lot to me.

I opened the box and proceeded to get thoroughly confused, trying to read the instructions. The print was so small; even the spy-glass didn’t help. When I tried it, of all things, it brought on the haziness and double vision from Saccades Sandra! Humph!  I put the two AAA batteries in and blindly farted-around in hope, more than expectancy, but got a reading. I can’t find out how close to hold the machine to the forehead, but some kind soul might be able to read the instruction for me tomorrow.

I managed to get it to record the forehead temperature, which was as the old thermometers read, only a tiny bit higher at 34.4°c. I’ve no idea how I got it to work. But there’ll be time later, to get more confused and baffled in the morning’s efforts at it.

I put the things away and turned my attention’s to making some nosh. I made too much again, by a long shot, and ate perhaps a third of it, which was more than enough for me tonight. Then Jenny-supplied yellow tomatoes and the shallots were all eaten up, but little else. Serves me right for making too much again. Hehe!.

Sweet Morpheous resisted me once again, and I turned on the TV, I thought it might bore me to sleep, but it only brought on the confusing and embarrassing Thought-Storms.

Gragnangles!

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 – Friday 16th October 2020: The body and mind seemed to crepitate. Thunderisations!

SPECIAL GUEST – TFZers ♥

Friday 16th October 2020

Croatian: Petak, 16 Listopada 2020

04:30hrs: Getting my head down so late last night, caused a bit of good fortune – I slept, uninterrupted, dream-free (I think), for over five hours! Yee-Ha!

Of course, this meant instant panic and worry about my getting everything done today, with such a late start! A bi gezunt! No time to lay there, or uhtceare. Anyway, the need for a wee-wee encouraged me to free my body-mass from the c1968 recliner, and get my balance, and scuddle to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). I honestly think I only moved a few fluid ounces, and half of them sprayed all over me! Grumbleskins!

I got the bucket, and myself cleaned up and visited the kitchenette, to get a mug of Thompsons Punjana, take the medications and do the Health Checks, oh, and take some photos from the window, not necessarily in that order.

I collected the MacroBid and Dioctyl from the computer desk. I tried the new ear-thermometer this morning, pleased to see that it worked the first time and came up with a figure. 34.6°Cc. Which marries with the level shown on the stick thermometer. I’ll see on Google and convert it to Fahrenheit. It gave me 94.28°F, which is a fair-figure, methinks?

The BP sphygmomanometer results were also pleasing, SYS and DIA both down, as well as the Pulse, I’ll do a check on Google again… “normal rate 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm), so, another good one. I wonder if this will last? Hahaha! I had a swig of the pathetically weak Pentac medicine, followed my gulps of the splendid tea, and Took the photographs, both in the Aperture Priority mode, with the Nikon camera.

These could be used if anyone was making a film-noir movie or commercial? Just a thought, here’s another, do you think that the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying them?

If they can “spent taxpayers’ money” for a load of bricks, in fact ‘they’ paid so-called artist Carl Andre, £2,297 for the pile of bricks, in 1976. Bear in mind that £2,300 in 1976 is worth £16,664.29 today. I’m imperseverant when it comes to an understanding such stupidity from the Tate, in accepting crap from someone so desperate for success, a Fame-Whore like Carl? They could have had both of my photos for a tenner!

But, of course, it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Oy-oy, oy!

A most-urgent calling to the Porcelain Throne arrived!  I scuddled off to the wet room, arriving with seconds to spare. But the usual start then stopping occurred, and I reached for the crossword book.

But no time for puzzling, for the motion restarted much quick than of late, although still painful, it as over in seconds, leaving me with a mess to clean up. I had to use two flushes, refilling the tank by water, jugged from the sink, in between, then get myself sorted, cleaned and medicated. Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids had gone through a rough time. Not much bleeding, though.

I reckon that the Dioctyl capsules are getting a grip on the situation at last. Says he, in hopes! However, the MacroBid UTI infection antibiotics, are taking their time in changing the colour of the urine, I checked with the card, and the colour is now between 6 + 7 on the scale, which is classed as Very and Severely dehydrated. No improvement at all, in fact, it is darker orange than before I went on the medication last Thursday? I increased my intake of spring water, as they recommended.

As I got on the computer, dear old Herbert started working on his models. Clunk, tap-tapping. But not for long.

I made a start on creating a template, then started to update the Thursday blog. I was in a zwodder, mentally, and jumping all over doing things out of order, and getting myself all irritated in doing so, but somehow kept on meandering and forgetting where I was and what I was doing and supposed to be doing. Jenny would know a name for this; she’s a clever gal. Next time we chat, I’ll ask her, then I can use the word to show off. Hehehe! Cheerio, sanity! Then…

Things seem to get worse when I went to get the ablutions done;

  • I suffered more dropsies than ever before!
  • Had a cracking cross between the Twist and a Waltz when Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I ended up going over onto the floor!
  • Banged my right elbow on the corner of the floor cabinet, and knocked a few things off of it.
  • I couldn’t find the shaving foam, and I’m sure I had some, and another full one ready? No shave today, then!
  • I considered putting some socks on, as it was getting reet cold. But stood there looking at the scary, scowling Sock-Glide, and a moment of resistentialism came over me?
  • It seemed that Pareidolia had gripped me, as I started talking to the damned thing! But I chickened out of using it, not that I was scared or anything like that, of course. Cough, cough!
  • Getting some new PPs on, and they ripped as I pulled them up? Oh, heck!

I remembered a little late that it was time for the next Dioctyl capsule to be taken. Forced plenty of water down with it.

I got back on Computer Cameron, and carried on with the blog updating, but not for long! Good old Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet went off again. It’d been dead slow all day!

I think Herbert must have gone out. It’s tranquil around the place. Even the ‘Hum ‘ is not as bad as usual, mind you, I can hear the drone from the plant room on the roof.

It’s already gone my head-down time already. Still, I will give in to my tiredness and get something to eat. Then I’ll collapse in the recliner. The internet is so bad and slow now it’s back on, but I’ll have a look at the Coronavirus figures first, internet permitting. Well, it wasn’t!

I got the nosh made. Fell asleep eating it. I cleaned up the mess from the tray falling off of my knees. Had a wee-wee, for what it was worth, it was more like a quick spray of air freshener without the nice scent.

Settled in the recliner, and waited for sleep to come… and waited… and waited…

Inchcocks 6th Lockdown Escape – To the Pharmacy

Offlymuch I went, I did,
To fetch my Fenbid-40 & MacroBid,
And a tube of Fenbid,
Although it cost me my health and a few quid!

The road was blocked by traffic parked on the pavement,
But I didn’t relent,
A passing car missed me,
To the floor, I nearly went!
Down Winchester Street,
It was a brave feat,
The brakes don’t work…
I carried on, my mission to complete!
More trouble on Hood Street,
Blocked pavement again,
But I an not to be beat!
Went on the road again, such a pain!
Got on Mansfield Road near Rhodes,
But where were the folks?
No muggers, bikers or Schaghticokes,
I think I’ll buy some Artichokes!
I stopped to look down Hadyn Road for a while,
Little traffic, few people that made me smile,
I moved on after a while,
Realised I’d forgot to take my mobile!
Started up the hills,
To fetch my pills,
To cure my ills,
Up ahead, the cottages and vills!
Aha, a Pavement Cyclist was seen!
He scowled at me, he didn’t seem too keen,
On my putting him in my camera screen,
His face looked a little adamantean!
Over down the hill to Carrington,
A place of muggings, violent action,
Blimey, my poetry is terribly bad…
What’s your reaction?
Got near the Chemist shop, a little late,
The retailer shops looking in a bad state,
I wonder, what is their fate,
Bankruptcy, for you mate!
I entered the Chemist shop straight away,
No welcoming smile, did they display,
I wished I was far away,
I tried to look happy, appear to be gay,
My emotions were in disarray,
Got the tablets, and I was away!
I called at Lidle, to get some food, spend my brass,
Noticed, the yobboes had smashed the window glass,
Coronavirus, made the yobboes mad and crass?
Did someone think the glass, a canvas?
Was it done by some drunken dumbass?
Done by a gang of anti-maskers, out to kickass?
Good job the window was made of plexiglass!

I must apologise for the patheticness of this rhyme,

But writing it, I was unwell at the time,

Anne Gyna, stopped me feeling sublime,

My future as a poet is not worth a dime,

But I’ll try to get it better next time!

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 – Mon 5 Oct 2020: Brilliant news about Sister Jane – busy day – cataclysmic end!

♫Doo – do-do-do, doo doo doo doo…♫ TFZers Clint!

Monday 5th October 2020

Haitian Creole: Lendi 5 Oktòb 2020

: 01:40hrs: I didn’t need to wake-up, I’d not managed to get to sleep. I was so worried about Sister Jane and Pete, and not knowing. Duodenal Donald was ever-present in differing degrees of pain-giving. Tsk!

I passed wind and wanted a wee-wee. Escaped the £300, second-hand, not-operational recliner, and without even trying to check my balance.

I took a wee-wee, an LDSSM (Long-Dribbling-Spraying-Splashing-Marathon) one. Trotted off, taking the well-used EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) with me to be emptied cleaned and sanitised, to the wet room.

: Midway through disinfecting the bucket, and I need a second wee-wee! The AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) was more like a river, Tsk! (Later on, inspired by the wee-weeing flood, I changed the original thought-graphic above. and made this new one up. I thought it was funny enough and topical to the Inchies Tale of Woe? Hehehe!

Had a clean-up, and changed the PP’s. Then off to the kitchen. The lights seemed to be twinkling a lot more this morning, a little like Sister Jane’s when she laughs and smiles, which brought back the fretting and hopes that she is alright. She and Pete have gone through the medical grindstone lately. ♥

The Health-Checks were done. Duodenal Donald was hacking away at me again, most uncomfortable.

I reckon the worrying about our Jane and Pete is the reason behind the pain. They do not deserve such bad luck.

The SYS was still high, but down on yesterday.

The pulse was up a lot, though? I’ll check ion a while to see what it should be, on Google.

The stick-thermometer showed a decent rise of body temperature, at 35.3°c. When I got the check done on the pulse, this is a screen-shot of what it should be. But it only confused me more than before. Why two columns of figures? Anyroad, I reckon the pulse is a bit high. Hang on, though, Resting Heart Rate? Conrad Confusion, reigns?

I did some waste bag making and sorting out. Having to make tiny bags is a bind, but necessary all the same, otherwise, using bigger bags, means they cannot go down the narrow, tiny, wrought-iron waste-chute openings. Hence, I now have about nine bags to deposit down the shaft later on, far too early to use it now, it’d wake folks up on its way down.

This photo on the right is from last Monday. When Diarrhorea Donald, had taken over control of the innards, from Constipation Konrad was blocking movements, and I had to dose myself with capsules. 

Well, two days later, and Constipation Konrad was back with a vengeance, and has been ever since. So today, it was Senna, and Macrogol needed to try and counter Konrad. And many gulps of the inutile, ineffective Peptac will be of little use, as it is typically, against the horrors of the Duodenal Donald attacks. The ulcers are getting to me today, they just plod on peppering me with stabbing pains that are worse than on previous occasions! Mind you, maybe Anne Gyna is a part of the problem as well? All I know is, something must be done if they don’t ease-off soon, it’s fogging the brain’s thoughts and intentions. I’ve got enough worries about with Jane and Pete.

During this short spell that I’ve been up and hobbling about, I’ve needed four wee-wees, and am now going for another! Crumbleckskins! At least I’m getting a variety of modes, that one was of the LPT (Long-Persistent-Type).

I got on the computer and found this mystery photo on the right, in the SD card.

It was apparently taken yesterday morning? Perhaps it could be a target for the Tate Gallery, do you think? Haha!

The updating of the Sunday post was a drawn-out affair. I carried on working on it, getting more and more frustrated with my lack of concentration. Notwithstanding the three varied wee-wees taken. Weeeee! Got the link emailed, and posted the diary off to WordPress. Did some Facebooking, then onto the WordPress Reader, some great stuff on today.

When I around to consulting the notepad to start today’s diary going, I came across what looked to me like; Por or Par, 86 or 81 (10.15), written, or rather scribbled. I wonder what the heck it means. It’s really irking me, it must mean something or I wouldn’t have written it, surely? Grumph!

I’m getting tired now, not surprisingly, with getting no sleep at all last night.

I tried to make a Morrison online order for later in the week, but no slots were available. So I had to use the Sainsburys service. This may cost me more, well, it will, and the risk of short-dated items is almost as bad as Morrisons are. Phlump! Still, I hope to get some canned Chill-Con-Carne from them, as advised by Tim Price in New Mexico, as an Anti-Constipation Colin! Hehe! (I’m not going to get too hopeful though, most stores seem to be running out of stuff lately. Panic buying, I suppose. I’ve an Iceland order coming in the morning. I hope they have the ready-made Gino D’Acampo Cannelloni Ragù meals in stock, I really enjoyed that!

My super G5 modern mobile phone rang out, well, it might not be that new, Ahem!

It was Pete, my Brother-in-Law. I was overcome with joy when I asked about Jane, and Pete said she was at the side of him and was okay.

I shed a few silent tears of happiness.

He explained what had happened yesterday with Jane; They rang the NHS 111 number and told them of the Cluster-Headaches the gal was suffering with, and her losing the sight of her left eye (I think it was the left one). They were advised to go to the QMC hospital straight away, and this they did.

The Bratton’s duly arrived at about 15:00hrs – and got seen at 22:15hrs. Blimus!

A rarity said Pete: But they let him go into the treatment room with Jane, which I thought was brilliant. We chatted, and Jane came on the line, and we had a three-way natter of sorts, but much of what we said was not sinking in, My gratification, delight, ecstaticness and euphoria at hearing that Jane was okay, was blocking out some of what we discussed.

I know that Jane has to go back again today to the hospital. I reminded them of the link to the NHS Cluster-Headache pages on the web that I’d emailed them. I think Jane will get some encouragement when she reads the treatments listed that are available to treat the painful problem.

I recall Jane saying the nurse told her what she could expect on today’s visit, anarchy! She told them that Mondays are pandemonium at the QMC (Queens Medical Centre). I hope she can get seen sooner rather than later. ♥

After ringing off, I was over the moon, never been so contented for years. I was making notes on the pad to use here later, and the landline burst into life.

It was my heroin, Jenny ♥. Explaining that Asda delivery drivers do not come into the flats. So she has been going down to fetch the stuff for various elderly and disabled tenants and asked if I had wheeler, they could use. I got the spare three-wheeler out of the balcony and shuffled it somehow to the front door. Where Jenny appeared in a few minutes – but it was no use to her, the bag wasn’t big enough. The poor gal came all the way up to.

Herbert was model-making again. Tap-Tap-Clunk-Tap. Hehehe! But it didn’t bother me today, with my finding out that Jane was alright.

I had a look at the latest Nottingham and regional Coronavirus figures. A little concerning, I’m afraid.

The intercom rang, and flashed. It was the Amazon delivery of shoes arriving. I didn’t see the delivery person at all, but they left the box outside of the front door for me.

I got the box inside and on the flat airer.

Opened the container, and had a look at the footwear contained therein.

Crap, but I only expected them to be at the silly-cheap price they were asking for them. They were the same price as the Shoe Zone.

I then took my ninth wee-wee of the day. Hogglebogwash! They are now coming out as SWOP (Sprinkly-Weak-Orange-Painless) modes.

I got on with doing some more waste bags up. The cardboard from the Amazon deliveries was flattened and got in with the other waste. As you can see, there are rather a lot of them now. Hehehe! I’ll have to make an effort and get them to the waste room I suppose, it may take more than one journey, methinks.

Hello,  the Dusty Springfield tune, ♫I only want to be with you♫ has burst forth from the front door. I bet it’s Josie returning the dinner things from yesterday. It was, bless her. She told me that she enjoyed the brown potatoes, which cheered me up a little further! I got the Nikon camera on the charge, and I have to say, struggled to get the bags to the waste room. A bit of a balancing act with the trolley full to overflowing.

I got the Tower of Pisa-like imitation ( Piazza del Duomo, 56126 Pisa PI, Italy) like three-wheeled trolley through the front door, and by then had three bags of refuse dislodged and down onto the floor. Tsk! 

Retrieved them and restacked them on the trolley, and went the few feet to the lobby door and out into the lift area. More black and white bags escaped and had to be retrieved, not without a degree of, well, silently muttered naughty curse words had been used and got to the waste room door.

  I got the trolley and contents into the chute area, and thought as I took this photograph, ‘This is going to be another on that the Tate Gallery miss, and lose out on’. Hehehe! On the very first bag to be deposited down the shaft, I caught the edge of the iron grating chute, and now have a reasonable sized new bruise to show off.

Backing the trolley out of the room after unloading the bags down the shaft, I accrued another injury on my left buttock, as I walked into the door frame with a jolt. That’d be because I’m a dolt!

With a newly acquired style of limp, thanks to my bum-banging-blimp, I made my way back to my apartmentette and got the dinner prepared and served up ready for consuming.  

A ‘reet-treat’. Taste-Rating 7/10, got the pots and me cleaned up, and stripped and settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner. I wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm, snug as a bug, and so contented and smiling inwardly, at the good news about Sister Jane! Then…

Then as I went to turn on the TV, I realised I had not turned the set’s power on yet. Grumbleklunk!

The quilt was taken off, I dismounted the warmth of the c1968 chair, and hobbled over to turn on the power socket. Accruing a stubbed toe en route on the Ottoman! Whincingtime!

Wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm again in the recliner…

Then I realised that the TV remote control had dropped between the chairs as I got up to put the plug into the TV! (I’d taken it out earlier, to use the socket, for the camera charger). Argh!

I tried to retrieve the remote with the long picker-upperer – but only succeeded in moving it out of sight, under the recliner!

I was just-short of suicidal feelings; only dejected depressed, despondent, and disconsolate,  dispirited, downcast, dismayed, and down-in-the-dumps with my sudden return to a world of Whoopsiedangleploppery! Not really, but I was irritated a smidge! Hahaha!

The quilt was taken off, I dismounted the warmth of the rickety recliner again, and got down on all fours, got the torch (handily kept on the recliner at all times when not in use), located the remote, and with the long picker-upperer, managed to slide it out from the furniture, then toward myself, and at last, reclaimed it. I put it in the Ottoman with the torch, and then planned to get back on my feet… somehow!

I did eventually get back up, via the Ottoman.

Falling off of the Ottoman (more bruises on the thigh), and banging the left foot. Then tried clinging onto the recliner…

But the cushion slipped off as I grabbed the chair, and ended up back on the floor where I started. I moved the cushion out of the way and tried again…

Next try, I utilised the swivel chair and Recliner as leverage, and success! I was back upright…

I knocked off the bottle of Springwater when I turned to get the quilt back on the chair…

I distinctly remember as I sat down to try and settle again, knocking the spectacles off of the recliner, Argh! But they were the old pair that I keep nearby if needed during the night, and I just left them there, as I’d got varifocals on anyway, to watch the Frost TV programme that I wanted to see.

I got back resettled, yer again, in the c1968 recliner, and wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm, and…

Naturally, just as the heart started to calm down, I needed a wee-wee! Flagtoggles! Gragnangles! Granglesbognessbuggerit!

I got up, all the rigmarole, and farting about had to be gone through again. Got to the bucket and the darned mode of wee-wee was of the FFFONEC (Forceful-Furious-Fast-Orange-Never-Ending-Cloudy) variety. I had to endure one of the longest PMADs (Post-Micturition After Dribbles) ever! Humph!

Getting silly this is! I wrapped the thin green quilt around me, got all comfy and warm again in the recliner (Deja vu?). Oy-oy-oy!

Got the TV turned on and had a swig of the spring water/orange cordial. Then, I turned the TV to channel ten and realised the two-hour episode of Frost, had only fifteen minutes left to run, so there was no point in watching really now! Tsk! 

However, I can report that all these Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpas and botherations; that usually would have got me all hot-under-collar (Not easy when you’ve not got any clothes on, Hehehe!) Honestly, they merely irked me a tad – and I can thank Jane for that, learning of her being okay, and chinwagging with her and Pete for a few moments, got me through this injury-ridden load of frustrations, and I felt in good form, with a definite sensation on contentedness!

I switched the TV to Radio three, and found some jazz music to listen to, and settled down. The Thought-Storms, were for the first time ever, unprecedentedly, idiosyncratic, enriching and pleasingly palatable.

I nodded of and woke an hour or so later, to hear the end of Nina Simone’s 1958, ‘My Baby Just Cares for Me!’ through the headphones. (Very memory prompting!) The quilt had come off of my feet, and the left one was stinging a bit, and seemed, well it was, swollen? Presumably, this happened when the limb collided with the corner of the Ottoman. Ay-yay-yay! 

Sweep Morpheous soon returned, as my mind happily mused over Sister Jane feeling better. I just had to put this picture of Jane (left) Me, and Christine Wright. We were young, frisky and having fun in our back yard. It was taken a few years ago… Hahaha!

Notice Inchcock had hair in those days? What we were doing with the hose pipe, well, maybe Janet will see this and remember, then she can tell me. Over to you, Jane and Chrissie!

I removed the headphones, passed wind, and drifted blissfully, smiling inside, off into the wonderful land of Nod!

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.