The moon landing was expensive in terms of costs and men dying…
But had to be done cause of Uri Gagarin…
Space race? The Russians were now leading,
First to the moon, the USA not conceding…
Conspiracists said the films were misleading,
Shadows in the wrong place, the flag was waving…
The trip took 109 hours, 42 minutes, launch to landing,
About the time it took me to get to see Dr Sanding…
Then she wasn’t there, more complex than a moon landing!.
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Inchcocks Diary
Approx 05:30 hours, I stirred back into life and promptly tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not working recliner. There I was, on my bum, with one leg on the swivel chair and the other bent awkwardly but somehow under the chair. And in a bit of a predicament! I stunned myself for a smidgeon. (Obvious to me that I’d been doing some tossing and turning and edged towards the front of the chair? Can’t recall any dreaming.)
I could sense the wet warm flow of blood in the Protection pants, which would be either Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, whichever or both, the need to get up and investigate, clean and medicate things was causing a bit of a panic in me. (I panic so well!) There was an urgency to my need to somehow get back up and onto my feet…
In my sad, messy manoeuvring painfully, first back on the chair, then onto my feet, I stubbed my same, the same one twice, which with the swollen feet and toes was worse than usual. I slipped my arm off the side of the recliner, getting up. Hitting my chin on the corner arm. No time to mess about, though, and I got Metal Micky, and we hobbled to the wet room. Bit of good fortune here. It was only Harold’s Haemorrhoids that were bleeding. Thus it was far less painful to 
medicate than the lesion would have been. The toes and chin were enough to keep my attention.
I did notice the vast improvement in the ankle ulcer, though, compared to Tuesday evening’s photo, this morning was much calmer and swollen looking. It must have been around an hour after waking that I started to think the day’s needs through. Food order to do, ask Meridian if they have sorted anything out with the Diabetes session. Get Richards’s treats sorted out. Got to… No, I’d better have a wee-wee first. And what a leak that was! Galore, and one of the longest wee-wees that I’ve ever taken! And they kept coming throughout the day!
The Blood Pressure sphygmomanometerisationing was yet another great set of results: SYS 44, DIA 62 and the Pulse, a smidgeon up, at 91 bpm! Â
The body temperature had risen to an almost perfect figure, at 35.1°f.
Interruption: The landline burst forth; it was a very hard-to-hear and understand lady (I think?), from the dentist’s surgery, on Mansfield Road. Reminding me of my appointment next. Plenty of time for me to forget it, though.
I input the BP numbers into the NHS Work-it-out site. (Left graphic wot I sun) It came out the same as yesterday! Don’t know why I made a sad face on it? 
I got the computer on to finalise yesterday’s blog and found the SD car was reading again? I swiftly got the few, well, three photos from yesterday that I could not get on done. Then titivated the blog and felt a smidge smug, but what with my luck in waking up and thudding to the floor, I thought it best not to get too confident.
The lad was worn out, and I was his last call. Richard arrived, and I thanked him for getting me some help yesterday, and I flashed him my much better-looking ankles… Hehehe! He warned me that thunderstorms were forecast for this afternoon. I thought it was a lot cooler today. We had a little natter, too and froing, and a laugh or two. This is good then; when he’s not too tired, he can spend a little longer with me, chinwagging. Gave him some treats in thanks, and off he trotted, in much need of his bed.
I am walking much better this morning after the initial waking-up boo-boo! Not having to walk on the heels today shows how the swelling has gone down in the legs and feet.
Although the toes still look like baby ones. Hehe! And, the bruise under the chin has not given me any bother at all! Even Arthur Itis in the knees has calmed done.
♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out from the door chime. It was neighbour Josie, returning Sunday’s crumb-covered tray and dishes from her meal. I’m not sure which of us is the worst, Hahaha! The poor gal didn’t look too well. I pointed the walking stick at my feet and said they were much better. Josie replied, “Yes, very good; I’ll try to…” Smiled and wandered back into her flat. I’m not sure who is the worst with Dementia and our lousy hearing. Hahaha! I tried to work out what she thought I had said but without success. Bless her ♥
Noise merchant Herbert from the flat above kicked off with his tap-tapping, the odd thud, and scuffing noises thrown in. He kept it u[ for hours on and off. He must have a special job lined up? Hello, I think he just dropped a box of tools. Ah, the drilling and grating noises have started now; he must be getting on with it, bless him. Back to the tap-tapping again…
I finally got the blog finished and posted off to WordPress. Went on the comments page. I had tons come in. But got them both answered. Then nipped on the WP Reader. Now it is time to get the ablutionalisationing tended to; and check Harolds Haemorrhoids, amongst other ailments. Hehehe! Back soon. Well, I hope to be back shortly.
I’m back. And what a good session that was! Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving on the chin where I ‘Chin-Butted’ the arm of the chair first thing this morning getting back up from the floor after my tumble out of the chair. No toe-stubbing, no Dizzies, I walked into nothing either. I have a mini involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance while I was shaving, hence, the little nick.
Had a wee-wee (it must have been number twelve of the day at least) and remembered what Carer Richard said when he was checking the use-by dates for me; “I’ve never seen yer with so little in yer fridge!”. So, I investigated and made an order for Iceland. They have no bottled water in stock either. So I ordered some low-cal lemonade. I must keep up with the drinking in this hot weather while the legs and feet retain so much fluid. Coming in the morning 
twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs.
As I started prepping the meal, I remembered the last Iceland delivery I’d had last week. The squashed bananas, the leaking bottle of liquid soap, short-dated yoghourt… and of course, there not having any of my beloved No Bull burgers or bread I ordered in stock. And the crap substitutions… I may have made a mistake here…
Had a tin of curried beans that I seasoned with the usual squid vinegar, malt vinegar and Vegan BBQ sauce. Put a part-baked loaf in the oven halfway through cooking. The beans and bread were excellent, but the veggie burgers were terrible; the crispy crumbs were not crisp. How clearly now, after making the order, one remembers one’s self-promise never to trust or use Iceland again! Being low on choices with the low stocks in the fridge, I decided to use up the crap and substituted it with Iceland bean burgers in crispy breadcrumbs.
As instructed, I got my feet up on a chair and sat watching TV. I soon nodded off, but could I stay asleep? Not a chance!
When I gave up on sleep, I took a photograph of the ankle ulcer and feet, and they looked so much improved from how Tuesdays were. The toes remain a bit pudgy. The retained fluid, giving me rock-hard legs, was also reduced.
.
The ♫Oh, Susana♫ tune chimed out, and in walked Valerie. She was a little happier tonight. Got the medications sorted, and I gave her a can of cold orange Fanta from the fridge; she liked that. Val took the waste bags with her on her way out.
I settled down to watch the England Ladies Game v Spain. I’ve never been more proud of an England team since 1966! I wish could have been France we beat, though. That would have been the icing on the cake. We will have to play against Sweden or Belgium, if we get through, France will have to be conquered!
ODE TO SELF-IRRISION & DERISION
I no longer have inspiration and very little gumption,
Life for me is sinking into declension…
Dementia means I’ve little recent memory retention,
Yet sometimes recall things, to my stupefaction…
I’m waiting on the EENT to have an operation,
For my cataracts, called Phacoemulsification,
I persistently wee-wee; and have hypertension.
I’m almost deaf, yet have tintinnabulation?
Arthur Itis, Ankle ulcer, and fluid-filled legs, with many a contusion,
Peripheral Neuropathy, a mechanical ticker, destitution…
I think St Peter should give me restitution!
Should I have been born? Am I a substitution?
Was I meant to be a boy or girl? That’s the question…
Parents named Inchcock, during gestation…
With a man-tool the same size, did my prospect worsen?
Unfortunately, I can’t make past miseries unhappen.
At birth, Mother said, ‘I don’t want it; I was crestfallen…
No wonder, as a youngster, I was so sullen!
Slowly my resistance began to weaken…
I lived on lard sarnies and Iprobrufen…
I asked every adult I met for an adoption,
I ran away from home, I had no option…
I went for shelter from Auntie Gretchen,
She just threw me out of the kitchen!
The next day, I hobbled back home, downfallen…
I got in and spoke, hoping they would listen.
No one knew I’d gone; my life never started to glisten?
My developing years were misery and rotten…
Then Mother was freed from jail; she’d been forgotten…
Laughing and being happy was then verboten…
I left school at 14 and got a job baling cotton!.
Depressed, I considered becoming an anthropophaginian,
There was a week when my life seemed ambrosian!
Matilda was her name, an arithmetician,
Randy? No need to ask her for her permission!.
But she turned out to be a Pinoccohian,
Not only that but an absinthian,
I returned to Nottingham, working as a beautician.
———————————–
.
I added some sprinkles, to it…
The Body temperature is nigh on perfect!
Morning Car Park Piccies!
This morning’s waking view,
The evening dawns, is that the right word?
Then this beauty, later on
FOOD, GLORIOUS FOOD
Due to my working well into the morning on yesterday’s blog, I didn’t wake up until 07:15hrs. A good job; the Carer didn’t come early cause I’d left the door locked. So, although still in a haze, I had to force my way free of the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, and get a wash and shave, then dressed. I remembered to unlock the door first. 
Despite my rushing, I remembered that I had the J Sainsbury order arriving twixt 8> and 9:00hrs. I didn’t get a single cut shaving and no teeth bleeding (but that was because I forgot to clean the teeth, Hahaha!) I did manage a stubbed toe and a few dropsies.
I got the blood pressures etc., done quickly as I could. Great figures returned, bearing in mind I was hastily hobbling around after getting up so late, trying to get the Health Checks done before the Carer or Delivery 
arrived. My body temperature was well down, surprising as I was almost sweating with all the rushing about what I was doing? Hey-Ho!
Well gone 08:00hrs and Carer Richard arrived. He was obviously not going to be able to have a chinwag and check the medications in the drawer as he usually does on a Monday because the poor lad had got three extra calls given him for this morning! I slipped him a bottle and a nibble plonk & chocolates in a bag. I make up a bottle of spring water and ass some orange cordial to it and bang it in the fridge to cool for him each day if he comes; nice chap, but under pressure this morning. He still oversaw me as I took the medications; some didn’t even do that. Wishing him good luck, he took the waste bag on his way out. Bless his cotton socks.
At last, I got the kettle on and took some photographs from the balcony.
I noticed some activity, as a silver car arrived and went to park in between the grey and blue vehicles on Chestnut Ways car park. Then backed out again and went down to the end car park (RDM’s area).
And parked opposite RVM, a lot nearer to the entrance. I spotted the deluge of muddy rainwater in the car park as it hurled down the hill in Woodthorpe Grange Park. Can’t blame them as the rain seemed to be coming heavier now.
I went to wash the tea mug as I took this shot from the kitchenette window. Cunningly knocking over the kitchen tools stand as I did so! Another mess to sort out! I think it’s the first time I’ve handled the baster and quick as I picked them up with the picker-upperer 
since I bought the set. Hehehe! That was donkey’s years ago.
tomorrow; what a plonker! Humph! Glad to see they had some more of the Squid Sauce, which is actually liquid salt made from anchovies, and most tasty too! I’ll try to eat stuff from the freezer today to make room for new ones.
I’d got two boxes of four lemon curd bakes, one for Richard. The freshly podded garden peas had gone up in price by a whopping 30%. Boo! And no country of origin on the packet! So, I do not know what to expect tastewise. The Nicaraguan ones can be bitter and unpleasant. Like the last ones bought, they should be sweeter if they are from Peru. As were the Chilean ones last week.
Another of the instant, phooey, watery evacuations. I tried to take a photo of the much improved looking ankles and plates of meat… but as you can see by the image on the right, it was not a good one. That was due to Peripheral Pete and his neurotransmitter failure, creating another intentional leg flailing dance routine. Why, you ask? I hope… I actually took several photographs, but this one was the only one worth using.
I got the three small waste bags made up from the delivery rubbish, grabbed metal Micky and went to the door to go to the chute. Drilling noises permeated through the flat. I assumed the workmen were back doing the electrical repairs or updates in the lift lobby. 
I hobbled around the tools, tiles and wires on the lobby floor, and I got to the waste chute room. Dropped the bags down the chute and was back out in no time. All without any trapped or knocked fingers, leg-dances, shakes or walking into anything. 
Back in the lift lobby, all the rubbish on the floor had quickly been removed, and there were no signs of untalkative gentlemen anywhere.
I just thought I’d remind you of the new Sainsbury’s slogan they have adopted. Grangleturds!
Got the washing up done, and a Meridian supervisor came to do a Customer Satisfaction review. I had to be honest with her. Treated her to a choice of nibbles afterwards, though. Dean arrived at almost the same time to collect her treats. I think it’s three or four weeks now before her wedding. She said she particularly liked yellow roses. She took the bag of goodies, and I even remembered to add the strawberries from the fridge. 
Cleaned up and washed, then took another Dioctyl poo-softener… I’ll start taking them one a day henceforth until they run out, or Trotsky Terrence loses his winning streak over Constipation Konrad! I must remember to ask Carer Richard to read the use-by date on the pot in the morning. I think cataract Kathleen is making my sight a little worse each day.
I got the pot of vegetarian ice cream that I got from JS, and I had a few big spoonfuls. Compared to the No-Moo one from Iceland, it was whiter but too sweet (I’ll still eat it, though, Hehe!) Costlier too! The No-Moo one was yellower, not so well packed and tasted less sugary, which suited me more than the JS one. Especially as these ones coming tomorrow were on offer. From £2.50 down to £1.50! Definitely, a case of 
arah… or Samantha maybe? She got the medications sorted, but did not check as I took them for any dropped or regurgitated ones. So much for my mentioning this earlier. But she’s a good gal. No treats were accepted this time. Bless her!
At 20:25hrs, I got restarted the WP and got back on Monday’s blog updating. Getting the latest photos uploaded first. So many were not useable, I had no idea I was shaking so much, and somehow a lot of them were lost. A
Getting dressed, 
Took off the pad from yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test and could not help bus picture my beautiful, precious, and pretty beloved Haematology nurse Hristina in my mind! ♥ 
Sphygmomanometerisationing was done next. The SYS was up 26 points to 140, DIA up by 2 to 63, and the Pulse had fallen somewhat to 77. Checked on the NHS site; The Ideal is 
per minute (bpm). 
I got on the computer, and my brain froze. What I was doing, I had no idea, really. This has happened now and then since the stroke. It can often last for a few hours, like waking up, but with no memory of the period of blankness. I named them Mind-Blanks. Then you worry about what you’ve been getting up to! It only lasted about an hour or so, I think. It seemed that I had started another blog template and been working on the wrong one. I really got annoyed when I discovered this! I swore at myself, and I wanted to give up! 
Richard the Carer arrived, and it helped pull me around. Not that I wasn’t still a little miffed ant the Mind-Blank happening. Even though it hasn’t happened for a week or two. I think? Rich’ got the Alert Alarm battery checked and gave me my medications. As we had a much-missed chinwagging session, I went to put the mini-hoover back on its charger and…
As I was bent down to reach the socket, Neuropathy Pete instructed his neurotransmitters to give me a flailing leg dance! I dropped the mini-hoover (I hope I’ve not broken anything), and I clung dearly to the electric shelf. 
It was all over within a few minutes, and no rumblings or injuries. That was due to Carer Richard’s quick response in getting to me in time. I’m pretty sure (although it was a short affair, it was brutal while it lasted) that it would have had me over had I been on my own.
Two cameras, a remote, and the SDH card reader have given up on me in the last few days. Mind-Blanks, Leg Dances, Dizzies, Falls and tumbles are getting more frequent. Doreen’s Dementia, Cataracts Kathleen, and Glaucoma Gladys have all been having a go at me! 
Best if I say no more on the subject, methinks! 
Took this snap of the rain, made a brew, and pressed on, trying to get the mess I’d made on WordPress understood and corrected; it was hard work that needed concentration. But, it went well for about two hours, progress-wise, and then Esther came bundling in to get the laundry. 
Extra-chopped tomatoes with pieces of soya. And some slices of milk roll bread… well, half the loaf! Gobbled it up at my leisure slowly and enjoyed it. The Flavour rating for this one was 7.5/10! Washed the pots and was soon in the land of nod. Dream filled, though. No details are recalled, yet I still know that I had dreams?
An hour or so later, Evening Care Valerie arrived, and the shock of the chime bursting out and waking me shook me a bit… at first, I thought I was still in my dream. Hehehe! As I stirred and Valerie came, I realised that although I had got my jammie bottoms on, I was topless this time. Still, she didn’t mind my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, podgy paunch that bounced around in front of me when I stood up. Humph! Val got me sorted out, and I handed her some nibbles in thanks, and off she trotted, kindly taking the waste bag from the door with her for me.
The thought was that had Val not found this new rota or the doses had gone down, not up, it would have been too late, and it meant I could be in a pickle medically if I had a bleed and an increased risk of a heart attack, blood-clot, and or stroke. 
