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Inchcock Today: Off to the EENT Hospital

Escape from the flats to the hospital

Got lost twice, forgot I’d got no trousers on… Oh, dearie me!

A Tale of Inchcock’s Day (Five Hours), Out on Tuesday

After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself.

But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! I felt almost reborn… not the proper terminology, but close.

I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.

Naturally, something had to go wrong after that wonderful start to the day. Gragnangles! I sorted out suitable things to wear, got the risky job done first, and put the diabetic bamboo socks on. The comfortable-wearing long ones.

But I had to use Sock-Glide-Glenda. True to form, I trapped my fingers twice, the same ones, of course, on each sock. That thick plastic gripper is deadly! I got a welt and a couple of bruises as well. But this did not put me off cause I intended to do my best to get the go-ahead with cataract operations, and after a couple of mild oaths, I carried on and went to gather the other needs of the morning.

Comfortable shoes, trousers, jumper, and the sleeveless jacket with all the pockets in it. It’s lasted a long time this one, I said to myself, as I got the camera (not much chance to use it though, Tsk!) and emptied the pockets to place the needed items for the trip…

Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).

  The entire lining had seemed to go rotten! Only one of the twelve pockets was useable! Undeterred, I limped into the hallway to see if those hanging up had fared better. Two of them had not, and they joined the blue one in the extra-large bin bag! Humph! I checked the khaki one’s pockets. All seemed okay, so I swapped the emptied contents in that jacket. Got the PP’s, trousers and best jumper on.

I realised that Carer Richard was due shortly, so I thought I’d better check I’d not left anything on the floor in the hallway for him to trip over; he’s a good lad.

Guess what? In my haste, I stubbed my toe on the towel airer, lost balance, and was entangled with the tipped-over airer and towel on the floor! With new welts on various parts of my knee, head and face! Unglefrogwonglingisations! I later found that I’d broken a tooth as well. My spirits were getting a little lower than they were earlier. Cor, blimey!

I worked on finishing the blog, and the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune belted out from the doorbell. I expected to see Richard come in, but no! Another… I’d not unlocked the door!!! So all that pain and hassle was for nothing! I had left some stuff on the floor on the plus side and was pleased to move them if Richard did a Whoopsie of his own on them.

I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!

I finished changing and was ready for when the lift arrived to get me to the ophthalmology clinic.

The door chime rang again; the door was unlocked, but whoever it was didn’t come in. It was Josie returning her dish and tray from her Sunday lunch. She did not say she liked it… Oh, dear! At least she didn’t say there was something she didn’t like about it?

The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.

I made my way out of the apartment and down and out through the main lobby. Two ambulance men? Perhaps they’d heard stories about me? Hahaha!

The journey was uncomfortable, but all of the old ambulances I’ve been in were. So I anticipated it.

When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the ophthalmology department waiting room.

Then took me to the waiting area. I could not hear anything the receptionist said, and one of the men translated for me. I realised then that I’d not put the crossword book in the coat or walker trolley. Shame that, cause it’s the only book I can read the clues on at the moment.

So I sat there, nosing at all around me. Bored rigid! But it didn’t take long for a lovely, attractive young lady to call my name out – but I didn’t hear it at first, and the gal took the bother to come and ask me, Hehe!

She led me to a small room with many machines for an ophthalmology-specific procedure. The blast in the eyes and many tests were patiently done on the beads. Deep family history was gone into, and about an hour later, I was returned to the waiting area to await being called by the Ophthalmologist.

During my wait to be summoned, I learned a lot, such as the lady in a cream coat is having smoked haddock for supper tonight. The man and woman and an elderly pair do not like the TV cookery programmes other than Gordon Ramsay’s. A lady in a uniform but not a nurse or medical one was annoyed when someone phoned her. I could not hear the other natterings, the acoustics are not good in a big hall. Hehe!

The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.

With Peripheral Neuropathy, I had trouble keeping my chin on the plastic thingamabob and had to look up all the time. The lady was not impressed or amused. She had to keep starting whatever she was doing again. I don’t think I was very popular at all. I did explain my conditions when I went in.

The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.

I guesstimated about an hour later, and she gave me her diagnosis. Cataracts in the right eye only would be done; although you have cataracts in that left eye, they are not as bad as the right one. We’ll see how you are going with it when this operation is done before tackling glaucoma. She will refer me to the surgeon, 12-week an average waiting time.

During my appointment, she’d noticed Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and my right-leg dance. She was concerned because of the delicate nature of the operation. Even seeing in one eye sees is better than none. It can only be done with no movement from the patient at all! This doesn’t bode well! Nevertheless, I was ticked pink at it going ahead.

I was told to go to the main reception to arrange a lift home. I didn’t expect a lift back, so I was even more gee’d up now.  I was feeling perkier now.

But I was soon back in my typical frame of mind, feeling a bit of a fool! I could not remember where the main reception was. I set off, trying to retrace my earlier route in reverse, and ended up in a room that looked like it had many babies all over the place? I withdrew hastily! Found someone to ask where the main eye clinic reception was located. And realised it was one of the receptionists I couldn’t hear talking a few hours ago when I arrived. Hahaha!

Anyway, I found it, and I had the job of hearing what the gal at the counter was saying again. She scowled at me and pointed in the direction of a two-seater settee in the corner near the door. “I’ve to wait there, then?” I think she almost clapped when she realised I’d got the message. She put a thumb up for me! Har-har!

I don’t know how long they were coming, but I was glad they were. When Richard arrived, he was cheerful enough. Then I made yet another cock-up…

By pure luck, I took a right turn and found my way to the outer door, seeing the two men looking for me! I couldn’t keep up with the chap and lost him and my direction again! Now I did feel like a complete idiot!

They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. The first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). Then one through the top side windows. At least I got a few photographs on my trip out, my escape from the flat.

Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!

We were soon back at the flats after a carefully driven journey. The lads refused a treat of the cans in thanks from my bag. Ah, well!

But I wanted to make a start on this blog, which I did. I got in the flat, had a wee-wee, got the kettle on, got my trousers off, cut up, and cubed some potatoes to do in the oven. After an hour or so, the floor chime burst forth again…

To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!

I apologised hastily when I realised; it must have been a terrible sight for her. We managed a laugh about it, but I felt awful and openly cursed Dementia Doreen! Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing and feeling an almighty, right a proper twit, all flourished!

Worked on this blog. (I did get it finished) I’ll do this in the morning (Now). I was up late, and when I realised it was gone midnight, I was getting fed up with myself.

I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!

The mess that I made making the potatoes, and doing the washing up, soon brought me back down to earth. Hehehe!

Review of the Day – In Odes

Sweet Morpheus didn’t allow me much sleeping…
Throughout the night, I would wake up jumping!
But I did remember, today, the EENT hospital visiting…
The best session for weeks, the ablutioning…
The Porcelain Throne visit was messy and paining…
I forgot to unlock the door; the Carer couldn’t get in…

A stubbed toe fell over the airer, got entangled within,
Sock-Glide-Glenda left me with cuts, bruises, hands and shin!
Emptied my jacket, things fell out, on the floor dropping…
The inner lining had apparently been rotting!

Took me hours to sort another coat out,
And swap things around the pockets…
Got it sorted and dressed to look smart…
Almost forgot to put the drops in the eye sockets…

Then the ambulance arrived, and I was soon in…
Thanks, to them, for to the hospital were driving…
The receptionist, I could not hear talking…
Some advised me of what they were saying…
Then to another waiting room, I was soon going…

First examination in-depth, the lady was engaging…
Back to the waiting room, results awaiting…
Got the okay, then moved to another area of seating…
Had a chat with a lady who was fortysomething…

The second exam, even deeper, by a lady appealing…
Eye drops were applied, and my head was reeling…
Back to the waiting room, I did some earwigging…
Awaiting being called back for assessing…

More tests on a machine and blinking…
I smiled and gave the lady some blinking…
But I didn’t get any return acknowledging…

To the Main Reception, to get a lift home, I was pleased!
But Dementia Doreen sent the memory adrift…
I got lost en route; I panicked and wheezed…
Felt a fool, ashamed and almost had a tift!

Found the reception, a stranger helped translate,
Sit in that chair (pointing) and for your transport wait…
So I did and didn’t have long to wait…
A driver came, said, follow me, mate…

I tried to follow him, but he walking relatively swift…
Chasing after him gave me a glift, boy, could he shift…
I lost him and got a bit miffed…
Panicked a bit and gave a little snift…
But found him outside, looking a bit squiffed…

Got home and lost all sense of timing…
The mind felt like it was abseiling…
Took my clothes off, nice and cooling,
Started with the day’s blogging…
Along came the evening Carer; I was welcoming…
Until I realised I had no trousers on, and started scaring!
Felt like an idiot, started self-caterwauling,
Embarrassed, ashamed, frustrating!

Well gone midnight got some nosh cooking,
Canned chill and potatoes, no casseroling,
Then turned my attention to sleeping…
Dreamed about Jillie and me, canoodling…
I think I started sweating and drooling…
A mortifyingly humiliating day, disconcerting!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Issue 44⅘ths

Mud Gorning

I’d just like to explain to you what happened. I thought I’d try it in odes, but after writing the poem below and reading it, that was maybe not such a good idea. So, I’ll tell yers, abarght wot happened:

Ocado had no ~Heinz burgers in stock again, so I ordered some frozen ones from Iceland to try. Which I did and got them cooked for the suggested length of time. And them to some baked beans in the bowl…

Not one of my des photographicalisations, I grant you. On top of the beans are the two ‘NoBull’ veggieburgers. They didn’t taste anywhere as lovely as the Heinz ones, but beggars can’t be choosers. I git into them and dipped the sourdough bread in the baked seasoned beans; I thought all was very passable… An odd choice of words, considering what was to follow…

This morning, I stirred around 04:00hrs, and a sort of gurgling from my innards caught my attention. No sooner had I got to my feet to catch my balance than it became clear that I needed to make way to the wet room and Porcelain Throne as a matter of some urgency. Which I did.

The evacuated torpedo was a little softer, although a lot larger than yesterday’s, but still not messy… painful, yes! Things needed a little cleaning up, and I used the Germolene on my rear end.

Back out and to the kitchen, tittivated around the kitchenette sink area, and made a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. I went back to the front room and got the computer on… And needed to hasten back to the Porcelain Throne again. ♫It’s not unusual to pass twice ♫ for me. I was surprised when I got down on the seat; the speed and splattering sound as the mish-mash landed. A lot of cleaning up was needed this time. Washed and back to the computer.

An hour later, session three was taken. Very watery, stinky and a lot of it. Where was it coming from? Why?

Another hour and trip number four was then needed. This time, embarrassment and shame… As I was whipping down the trousers, things started of their own accord and all (nearly) liquid! What a mess!!!

The morning carer arrived, and I hoped she could smell nothing; she didn’t say owt anyway, bless her. As she left, call number five started; I was not hesitating at all, and stubbed my toe, then hit my shoulder on the door to the wet room in my haste going in. I barely made it in time. At least there was not so much of it by now; there can’t be anything left there?

An hour or so later, I found there was something left in there, all liquid. There’s something oddly disturbing about sitting there expecting a torpedo, and all one can hear is liquid shooting into the water.

Summoning number six had a bit of body, and there was much less evacuated. Also, some of the real stuff (brown… well, no, more khaki, really, trickled out – so new PPs were used again. More cleaning and medicating, and back to the computer.

Number seven was short but not sweet! The splattering of some mud had to be cleaned up, and Germolening of the poor painful piles!

The last one, number eight (an hour ago), was noisy and back to the liquid format?  Since then, no signs of the Throne being needed, but the wee-weeing has gone crazy suddenly?

Sorry, I just needed to tell someone.

ODE TO THE DAY

To listen to the radio, I need a headphone…
Can’t hear anyone when they speak on the phone,
I’m passing wind, sounds like a trombone?
The innards are churning like it was a battle zone…
Then came my first visit to the Porcelain Throne…

It was reluctant, the torpedo as hard as a stone!
Seven hours later, I need a medical arbiter…
Eight more visits, nine in total, stomach still aflutter!
The last two evacuated more as water…
My bum is sore, daren’t eat… I’ve felt a lot better…
It brewing inside again; will it ever settle?
So, should I snuff it and die, lackaday!

Remember veggie-burgers, and stay away…
Resist eating them; I ate two NoBull ones yesterday…
I shan’t be eating anymore anyway…
Pain and queasy feelings of dismay,
I may get over it, I dare say, someway…
But I do feel grotty and giddy,
Now there are bouts of going dizzy…
I’ll do my best to press on anyway,
I’ve the door wide open for a quick getaway…
Crap-it, I need another one, instantly…

Was that the ninth or tenth? I flowed cruelly…
Far less this time, or am I getting delusory?
Or should word have been delusionally?
I feel hungry but dare not try owt gastronomically!
More food, make affects the innards to react harmfully?
Making me rush to the Throne more frantically?
I feel lethargic; the knees feel like jelly?
Surely the shits like these will be temporary?

I said this ten craps ago,
What to do? I don’t know…
I’m bent forward, really low,
Must look like Quasimodo?
I speak, it sounds like Esperanto?
Even my thoughts are akimbo…
Is it safe to eat dry bread or sourdough?

The Trotskies seem like they’ve lasted for an eternity?
They could drive me back to drinking whisky…
Oh, better not, with the stomach so empty…
I’m in pain, and dizzy, aching… no, really!
Each evacuation today has shown consistency…
I pray the next one will not show urgency…
Or I’ll have to make a long-distance delivery – Hehehe!

ON WITH THE LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS!

Treating it as a hate crime? Why? Yes, it is a hate crime, but why draw attention to it? Unless the scumbags can be prosecuted to a greater degree for hate crimes than any other, I’m all for it!

Another hate crime? What’s going on? I hope the poor devils coming to the UK, running from Putin’s bullies, don’t get such a welcome!

I assume from the facts as I read last week that Nottingham has more students pro-rater than any other City. Indeed, that has been taken into consideration… or has it?

Same comment as above?

So, virtually attempting to murder police officers, endangering members of the public, and he gets 12 months in prison? Grrr! The namby-pamby legal system is no deterrent at all. He’ll likely still get his drugs and booze sneaked in by his friends…

I wonder if Russia can offer them any jobs?

That should be knife found, another cock-up!

I am not complaining about Van Der Merwe getting a decent sentence, but so should Barrass! Four years and eight months. I concur with this sharp sentence. But why do attempted murderers and the Barrass above get one year for trying to kill police officers and putting the lives of the innocent at risk? Not to mention his drug offences, stabbing, firearms and woman battering qualities?

Price must be laughing his head off! 18 Months of Community order? What’s that, then? 80hrs of unpaid work?

A bit embarrassing that!

Parole Board members… don’t forget to give him full remission!

Sad.

If it’s true, fair enough!

Well done to the private group who caught him!

Angeringly sad.

Bit of decent speedy job done there by the police!

Keeping my determination not to win!

LATE EXTRA!

Trust is something we do all the time without thinking. Doctors (Harold Shipman), Nurses (Beverley Allitt), and policemen (Wayne Couzens) are professionals that we rely on, trust! We can guarantee that the Parole Board will release convicted murderers to kill again! The facts are, we can never know for sure…

Ending on a personal note…

I’ve found the legend for the local postcode crime map.

Pink: Theft from a person
Dark Pink: Shoplifting
Dark Grey: Vehicle Crime
Light Grey: Violence & Sexual Offence
Light Green: Other crime
Dark Green: Drugs
Mid Blue: Antisocial
Light Blue: Bicycle theft
Orange: Burglary
Mustard: Possession of a weapon
Teal: Public order
Greeny-Blue: Public order.

Bearing in mind along with the Cataracts, Glaucoma, and Saccades, I also have achromatopsia (colour blindness), my choice of colours may not be of much help. Tsk!

A lot less crime in my area this time. But I know that the youths breaking into my flat did not make it onto the map? How many others are missing?

Inchcock Today: Rescued Photographs and Diary

RESCUED PHOTOGRAPHICALISATIONS

Ode to the last few days… It’s been a struggle!

Worra job, fighting the SD card reader, t’was pathetic!
Four days of failing, it was terribly acrostic…
Three or six times a day, I tried and was feeling threnetic,
The neighbour was noisy; I resisted any rhetoric,
Cause I could have hit him with my mashie-niblick!
But at least his noise today is only sporadic.

I know that I’m uneducated, got dementia, and am thick…
But repeated failings to get the piccies on… I felt sick…
Got some of them on today, and then I felt fantastic…
But once out of five days? Proves I’m no clever dick…
But my moods are temporary, changing, erratic…
I can be depressed, then minutes later, charismatic?

Sometimes, well, rarely, I can believe I’m being realistic…
But then consider myself unreliable and eccentric…
Other times concentration can be enjoyed, therapeutic…
But it’s only me being toying with hopes, being simplistic.
Hopes for improvement in mental health and lethargic,
Ever new problems with neurotransmitters and neuralgic.

I don’t expect that life’s ailments or mental logic,
A problem is I’m my own worst critic,
To expect to get back to normal is unrealistic…
I anticipate daily pains and struggles… am I masochistic?
That’s not the word I mean; I do feel a dick…
I somehow cope well with pain that’s chronic?

But not with Peripheral Neuropathy, or owt anapeiratic,
I manage with being deaf and arthritic,
Not Doreen Dementia, who denies anything copacetic…
I try not to get depressed or apathetic,
I can often laugh it off, then I find it all too dramatic,
I cannot cope; I find it all too frantic!

Having got rid of the depressive rot, onward…

Not sure what day this blood test was done, but I’ll hazard a guess on Saturday. To think, a couple of days earlier, the SYS was 208! Noe down to the second-lowest ever! Hehe! I’m not complaining, mind you.

And the body temperature, well, another fantastic result. Almost spot on the target figure (NHS) of 35°c!

I can remember taking this temperature, although not the day – because I dropped the thermometer, bent down to retrieve it, and clouted my head against the corner of the chair. And knocked the camera off of the table, and it would not work for a day or so, Tsk!

This I recognise quickly enough, along with the error I made doing it…

I’d made the nosh for Josie, as usual on a Sunday. Got it just right tastewise, and delivered it to her door at the agreed time of midday, feeling rather smug, with her treats for the weekend on the tray. Josie said nothing out of the usual. But I did an odd look from the gal… had I done something wrong? Mmm!

When I got back to my flat to start my dinner, it came to me… It was Saturday! Not Sunday! I felt such a berk!

I got my fodder served up. Vegetable pastie. Green and black grapes, garden peas, baked potatoes, lemon yoghourt. It was lovely. I granted the meal a taste-Rating of 8/10.

I’ve no idea why I took the picture whatsoever? I think it was on Saturday that I was having problems with the computer, other than the usual regular temper and sanity-testing card reader.

This night (Saturday maybe), the sky seemed a smidge misty with it during the sunsetting process.

I stayed up late to catch it and took these two relatively poor photographicalisations from the kitchen windows.

Saturday night, I think, possibly, mayhaps, if not, then Sunday…

I had a bad bleed from Little Inchies Fungal lesion.

Sunday, I think these results are from. And a fine set of figures they were. Sys 144, DIA 54 (A little low, maybe, but no worries about this), the pulse showed 83.

Well, blow me down, another good reading from my Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Dang, close to perfect for the third day!

Ah, my beloved puffer clouds were up in the sky for me to picture them. I recall taking these pictures and suddenly needing the Porcelain Throne, so off I trotted without any delay…

I was sitting on that plastic seat in there for over 25 minutes! I also took a Codeine afterwards to ease the sore bum from the concrete torpedo; I’d just grindingly released with a Clonk of a noise when it landed in the bowl! Constipation Conrad had won the competition against his competitor Trotsky Terence by several lengths. Still, I got a few clues answered in the crossword book.

Another sort of cloudy, hazy sunset that night. Of course, I have no idea what night it was, Sunday or Monday, I imagine.

Buttered tatties, tomatoes, fish fingers, fishcakes with mushy peas inside, and battered fish fingers, Birds Eye as well, and they were crap tasting! Some grapes, and I see the milk roll slices, which was excellent cause I could mask the cardboard taste of the Birds Eys battered fish fingers a little by the bread. Eurgh! The potatoes were undercooked, but they were cooked bu a grand chap (Me!) Hahaha! Flavour: 5/10.

Tuesday’s nosh, this was more like it. There are tons of garden peas, tomatoes, tattie chunks, yellow and red tomatoes, and two sizeable battered fish portions. This fish in batter tasted a lot better than the last Birds Eye ones.

Unfortunately, the rest of the meal was a disappointment, well, crap again, actually! The bananas had gone oversweet with age, the potatoes tasteless, and the peas were bitter and sour. The tomatoes were fair enough. Flavour: 5.5/10.

Wednesday: The Iceland order arrived. I was unsure what to expect after they sent me the chinks that had gone green last week. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me and got his choice of cans in thanks. Three items were not available, and two substitutions, but at least they had better dates on them this week. I got the bags unloaded, doing the freezer and fridge items first.

Tried some of their veggieburgers and pies this time. Frozen, of course, and had a job to get them into the fridge and freezer. The substituted tomatoes were Italian ones, So maybe a disappointment. We’ll see. They usually are but compared to last week’s Algerian ones…

The substituted Richmond sausages, Carer Richard, can have in the morning.

Well, yet another fine set of results from the Health Checks! Sys 133, Dia 70, Pulse 69 (A smidge low again), Then I got the thermometer out.

Brilliant! Four days now since the 248 SYS reading, Yee-Haa! Anyone’s guess is how long these promising results will go on for.

Gong to get some nosh on now. Hopefully, I can make something worthwhile and tasty this time.

Got the chips in the oven. And noted the popularity of the Chestnut Way end car park – And no red-van-man is on sight. Unless he’s parked elsewhere than his favourite spot on the yellow no parking chevrons?

The evening Carer arrived, Valerie (Nibbles). Sorted the medications and took the bag to the chute on her way out.

Got the burnt chips based nosh finished and served up. Do you know, they tasted super-good and so tasty! At last, a decent rated meal. A burger on a cob, tomatoes, and garden peas. For afters, a mini strawberry cheesecake and a banana. Taste Rating: 9/10!

The Amazon ordered slippers arrived a little late on. Thanked the driver and offered his choice of canned refreshments.

I didn’t open the bag yet, I’ll do that in the morning, but I could tell I was going to be disappointed by the shape of the package. It felt more like a giant teddy bear inside than footwear. Squashed up and no doubt well-misshapen. Hey-Ho!

I was deprived of getting to sleep again, can’t blame the Thought-Storms this time – Thoughts of all kinds and types were absent! I was not depressed, just in a passive, what-the-heck mood. Although hours later, after failing to nod off, the darned Thought-Storms did kick off. The long done and gone mistakes I’d made flourished about in my head, seemingly in amazing chronological order? Around 02:20hrs, I put the TV on, a desperate measure… but it seemed to work… Until I sprang awake at 04:00hrs!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Photographicalisations, Ode & Diary

Photographicalisations & Diary

♫Fings ain’t wot they used to be…♫

Little did I know the above-written ode would turn out!
I’m worried now; I think I had a memory blank or blackout?
Mistakes n everything I tried to create… a mental wipe-out!
It took me all day to get the blog done, a mind whirlabout…
Problems lasted hours… in fact all day, or thereabout?
Couldn’t get to grips with the day, time, everything, a doubt?
I had to keep stopping when the brain went on a gadabout…

Cataracts and glaucoma made things worse…
The noisy, clang-banging Herbert above made me curse…
Went to the Porcelain Throne; the evacuation was vicious,
Rock-solid: it took me half an hour; this is not fictitious!
It felt about the same size as a trolleybus!
One aspect was not painful or scary; quite the reverse…
Painful, yes, but no bleeding from the rear end, thus…
Washed and did the Germoloid creaming. Oh, that soothes!

From Grammarly, mistakes of all sorts, I was being told,
But I pressed on, which I thought was rather bold…
Dizzy Dennis joined me; Herberts’ noises could still be heard,
Why do I feel so bad could still not be answered,

So what I’m waffling on about…
I did my best, but without any doubt…
Faults mistakes you’ll quickly pick out…
Dates and times mostly, serious and nowt…
From start to finish, throughout…
I suppose this Ode is a criticism redoubt!

I can’t really put a date as such,
The photos, taken over 2½ days,
It may be mixed up datewise in a rush…
To get this blog done… with my mind in a haze,
I dun me bestest, please don’t underpraise…

I’m depressed and in pain, in many ways,
I really have had much betterer days and praise…
The coming of tomorrow and better days,
I’m hoping the confusion doesn’t overstay…
And depression finally breaks away!

Forgive any duplicated photos put in,
With wrong dates & times, I know it’s a sin!
The ailments are bothering me out and within,
My hopes for improvement are relatively thin…
Good job that I don’t drink, or I’d have a gin!.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Photographs & minimal Memories

By Jimminee, and jolly good heavens above, what an absolute improvement on yesterday’s sphygmomanometerisationing for the level of blood pressure! Comparing it to Thursdays, nerve-wracking 285 Sys!

It tumbled down to 148, and very welcome it was to see it!

The pulse had dropped as well.

 

Another good result from the thermometer.

It was a dead-on target at 35°c.

I think I was; I had a losing battle against Sock-Glide Glenda again in the wet room. SGG 3 – Inchie 0! It all happened so quickly. Having completed getting the socks on, I was, with only one tiny bruise on the foot, and as I stepped over the frame to grip Glenda to remove her… And seconds later, I was on the deck, entangled in her framework! With a bruise that anyone would be proud of on my shoulder. But then…

Getting up back to my feet (bear in mind I had not got any glasses on at the time). I lunged at the grab-rail to assist my getting up… and missed it entirely! I then had a new bruise to add to the shoulder and wrist ones on my flabby belly as I went back down again and made a painful connection with Sock-Glide-Glenda… again! A few scratches as well, but they are pretty. The Carer said so when she came. She was well impressed with the shoulder bruise. But her favourite was the blotch come bruise on my left man-breast nipple; she was very keen on the pinkness and swelling. Hahaha!

The Iceland food arrived. I’m sure I’ve put all these on before, but it won’t hurt for anyone who may order beef chunks from Iceland to see the photographs of the three packs I bought again. They were all within the sell-by date, too!

On Special offer, I just looked at this close up of the red and khaki coloured lumps they’d sent! It was the same or similar colouring? It reminded me of the only time I’ve seen horsemeat served.

The JS Sainsbury delivery. In the centre of this picture, on the right, you’ll see three tiny sourdough cobs that cost more than the milk roll bread. Talk about hard! Gawd, blimey, they were 80% crust. Did my teeth no good. But I ate what I could salvage from the concrete balls of sourdough later on? 

The ‘Best’ potatoes all had growths of bruises on them.

Can’t recall what night I made this meal. But I can remember enjoying it pretty well. The fishcakes with peas in them were tasty enough, the potato waffles were terrible, as were the fish fingers, all vegetarian. The tomatoes tasted excellent, cake and banana, but the vegan cakes cost more money. The potatoes and peas were disappointing. Taste Rating: 6.5/10.

I think I’ve shown this photo, but I am not sure. Sourdough bread, the Polish style one, mushroom pate and tomatoes, a soft imitation cheese portion, were almost as bad as the cakes. But that bread and pate. Was gorgeous.

.

Mike Fries: A good looking, Mafia-type, $23 million wage earner – no, I’ll take that back, he is not an earner to me.
But, I admire his cunningness in convincing his paymasters at Liberty-Global, to pay out $15 billion to buy out Mr Branson’s Virgin Media. Then instructing the UK telecom call-centre team, never to mention Liberty-Global to any customers? Thus, Mike Fries cannot get his $15b internet service to run for a day without going down several times – and Richard Branson gets all the name-calling and abuse. (He’s clever, you know!)

I imagine that if any proletariat call-centre person was caught mentioning the name Liberty-Global to any poor Virgin Media customers… The least they would come away with would be getting knee-capped & sacked?

He’s a Smoke & Mirrors expert. A figure-conjurer of the highest order. The bosses at the top get the complete treatment from his financial sleight of hand and legerdemain skills. They likely actually are being convinced by Fries of the competency of Virgin Media? Which, of course, does not exist.

There’ll be some financial hocus-pocus going on that convinces the top dogs of his profit-making for them, even if only on paper, so’s to speak. It’ll be out of my league!

I believe his flimflam, hanky-panky, and double-dealings will never be caught. So effective are his smoke & mirrors techniques.

This is a shame because despite wishing him a slow, excruciatingly painful death for his cheating ways and knackering me up every day with his Virgin internet repeatedly failing.

I like his style.

I’m jealous probably. Hahaha!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Evening Carer’s just called. Another new gal, pleasant enough with me. I insisted she had some treats, a nibble and a drinkie for putting up with my constant moaning about life. Hehehe!

It’s late now; I’m ready for summat to eat and a kip. I’ve got some spuds baking, pod plead in the saucepan, and a veggie pastie to add to the potatoes if I don’t fall to sleep first. I’ll try to get this finished in the morning.

I’d like to stay awake long enough to get some sunset shots. If Colin Cramps visits again when I get down, I should at least get the sunset photo’d if no sleep. Har-Har!

As I was going to have a check on the fodder cooking, I heard a clattering noise from the room I’d just left. I went back to investigate…

The new giant faux-fur brown throw had somehow or other, slid off of the £300, c1968, second-hand, decrepit, rickety recliner, taking to the floor with it: my Wood-Waking-Stick-Walter, Picker-Upperer-Percival, Shoe-Horn-Horis,  a towel, two pairs of trousers, a pot of Cheeselets, two bottles of spring water, and two cushions! Harrumph!

I got things sorted things out again. And then went back to the kitchen to get the meal prepped and served up. No sunset as such, but the view was eerily misty, enough for me to take a snap.

photographicalisation. Served up the fodder. Two veggie pasties, two potatoes baked, halved and plant butter added. fresh garden peas and tomatoes. A banana and pot of dessert. Taste Rating: 7.8/10.

I got sorted and down to try and stay awake long enough to watch my first episode of Grimm. It started at 22:00hrs, which is too late for me normally. I remember checking the schedule, and it was 15 minutes before Grimm started on the same channel… and thinking at last I’ll get to watch it… Of course, Sweet Morpheus got me, and off to kip, I went before seeing the program start!

I woke a few hours later, a selling channel was on then. I rose for a wee-wee and needed the Porcelain Throne as I was on my way to the wet room.

Rock-solid again! A good hour I was in there, going through pain and having to make it worse by giving my best supportive efforts to constantly edge the concrete torpedo out from the rear end. Gawd it felt good afterwards, though!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump – Where, How and Why?

Inchcocks Bungee-Jump

There was a damsel I wanted to impress,
She was chunky, and I’d heard, easy to undress…
She loved a laugh and smiled at my stupidness…
But she admired men who showed fearlessness…
What could this whimp do with his faintheartedness?

I pondered, deciding on using fictitiousness!
Told her I was going bungee jumping, most unchivalrous,
Where? she asked – ‘Darley Dale on the bus…’
I’ll come to see you, she said. Oh, excessiveness!
Now to face my acrophobia… but not be loveless?

,

I got the motorbike mended, off to Darley Dale,
Picking up en route, the bonny lass, called Abigail,
I arrived at the festival and put on a swagger, to no avail…
From inside, my stomach churned; I must’ve looked pale…
I was putting myself through hell for a desirable female!

Nervous? Me? Yes, I could hardly breathe or inhale!
Searching for an excuse, I was feeling foolish and frail…
Yet I was laughing along with my beloved Abigail,
I looked up at the cherrypicker platform I’ve to scale,
Fear of heights and cowardice… will I die at Darley Dale?

I found a resolution by fearing being mocked should I fail…
Idea! Thump a Policeman, then they’d take me to jail?
But no, I must do this heroic act to impress Abigail!
If I live through this, fall in love, I’d tell the tale…
Or should I run away and search for the Holy Grail?

They booked my jump for about 1400hrs…
I sneaked away to the Pretty Flowers…
A quaint pub on the road to Alton Towers…
I drank three ciders and four pints of Guinness!
Enough surely to get me out of this?
I’ll never get up the ladder, being so pissed!

Walking back to the fair, when I was getting near…
The fresh air must have taken away my fear…
But it may have been something to do with the beer?
I started whistling and greeted the gang; I was feeling queer!
I cheerfully got into the bungee-jump helmet and gear!

.In the jumpers tent, all the others, some in over-leathers…
Nervously talking and bragging, being sick the others!
“Who’s first up?” most of them dithering and nervous!
I called, “Me first, captain!” The others finished their reefers…
Momentarily I thought, Did I take my beta-blockers?

Too late now, and I felt like a performer in a circus!
Abigail cheered me as I ascended,
I slipped on the ladder, hit my midriff and got winded,
Not enough for my bungee jump to be rescinded!
No stopping me now that I’d ascended…

I pressed on out to the platform… was this all a dwale?
Got out to the edge… shirt off, like a Chippendale…
Everyone from below could see I was a male!
The wind… suddenly blew a gale!
Down onto the ice-cream pole, my body did impale!

A Red Cross man arrived first. “Here, take this aspirin, cock!”
The whole thing was a shock and schlock!
And, I’d laddered my new knee-length bamboo right sock!
Why worry about that… it’s poppycock?
Mayhaps I’d gone into PTSD or shellshock?
The police arrived and arrested me for TWOC!

Inchcocks Make Folk Laugh in Ode Series 77⅘th

Inchcock Today: Saturday 2nd April 2022

02:30hrs: I burst into wakefulness with one heck of a jump. Tired as I was, I could feel the shakes coming via the Peripheral Neuropathy in the feet and toes. There was no pain with them, just an odd, weird sensation of ultra-strong tingling. That would undoubtedly be the neurotransmitter’s nerve-ends trying to get a message to the brain but failing. There is a chance that of they succeed later, the pain will then be felt then. This had happened before many times. Hahaha! I nodded and woke repeatedly; it seemed like every ten minutes to me.

Hehe! 03:35hrs: I was reluctant to get up again… but the need for a wee-wee forced me into action. I disentangled my flobby-bellied body from the second-hand, c1966 recliner! I caught my balance and wobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) and got a surprise. The evacuation was short but relatively intense. What caught me out was the amount of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). I must have been standing there for some minutes, waiting for the PMAD to stop. It must have been three times the amount of that the wee-weeing passed? With the gentle encouragement, I was giving to urge things along. Unfortunately, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion started bleeding! You didn’t need to know that did you? Sorry!

Made a Brew of Glengettie, had another PMAD ridden wee-wee, washed and got on the computer. I found this shot of last night’s incredible short sunset. I tried to load the photos, and the reader let me!

Then, I went onto the WordPress comments section. Next, the WP Reader, not many new posts on?

05:15hrs: Off to the wet room. What a magical, smooth, almost pain-free, clean evacuation that was! I’ve not had such a pleasant movement for months! Grrreat! It may sound an odd thing to say, but it was a genuine relief and pleasure!

Celebrated with another mug of tea and went back to the computer. To update, post the Friday blog, which didn’t take long with no photos to use. Grumph! But a least I got a few on of today. Phew!

Made a start on this blog. Had to stop due to Dementia Doreen and me, forgetting we’d not done the health Checks – So we did them!

Started with the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer. Try saying that when you’ve had a few! Hahaha! Even closer to the target figure of 35°c this time, Good!

Then the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, which was made by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China.

This one was not such a good result; the blood pressure was a smidge high again. Well, a fair bit high, really, methinks.

The Pulse at 77 bpm wasn’t bad at all.

The site said mine should be 74 to 102 beats per minute, which was a good result.

Herbert kept me aware of his presence throughout the morning. I suppose the odd thud, clunk and tap-tapping, so I don’t get bored. Hehe! His better points are his being standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, and ignoring greetings when one says, Hello, or are you keeping well?

I took a shot of red-van-man’s parking on Chestnut Way, broom the balcony. Brr! I took it through the glass, as it was pretty nippy out there now.

I made a start on this blog, and within minutes the Morrison Delivery arrived. Left the parcels in the doorway for me, and off they trotted.

As I was about to take the parcels through to the kitchenette…

The morning carer arrived, the first time she’s been to do me. She helped me move the packages into the kitchen. A professional carer. Name of Ann, or Anne. She got the medicines’ doses sorted correctly, and although she was just starting her shift (I asked), Anne gave me a couple of minutes to chinwag. ♥.

I got the barfs opened and sorted out the many items I’d purchased. Two things were unavailable, the text message said, but I didn’t know what they were. Found out later it was drink treats and cakes, so no bother over that, then.

The Lacto-free whole milk, jelly and custard pots and mini ice-cream suckers were put away in the fridge and freezer. Note that they delivered some potatoes and leek stew packs – they will be consumed this evening, I hopeth. I cut up some more potatoes to be added then to the leeks. A drop of soy, Worcester sauce and some Bisto. I’m planning to add a can of peas later on. The bottled mineral water, orange jellies, liquid soap, bleach, crispy fried onions, and Germolene were put away. As for the tomatoes, they were found to be Spanish, so I’m not too hopeful about putting them in the leek and potatoes… they are bound to taste bitter. Then I took the waste from the delivery and prepping out to the rubbish shute in the lift lobby. No injuries to report!

Got back on with updating this blog, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a good chinwag, which I enjoyed muchly. Then I got the pots and leeks with seasoning into the large pan.

Back on the computer to work on this blog. Oh, I am good! Well, pretty fair… not too bad. Crap really!

Cleaned the kitchenette surfaces, and made a mug of Co-op 99 tea.

I looked up at the wonderfully fresh-looking clouds in the sky. And had a few minutes of pareidoliaing. I saw an animal head in the first shot, I forgot what I saw in the second, Tsk! And two animals in the third photographicalisation.

I can only find the top one at the moment, though.

An hour or so later, I checked on the potato & leeks concoction. Had a taste, and thought it was coming along nicely. Still got to add the peas later, and am doubtful about putting the Spanish tomatoes in… Ah, I’ll go and have a taste of one, then I’ll know if they are worth the bother tastewise. Back in a bit…

I’m back. They’ll do. I added the peas and sliced some tomatoes into the mix.

SD Reader not working again. But Herbert was, clank, thud, tap-tap, thud.

The evening carer arrived, I’d just fallen asleep watching some rubbish on the TV. There is a film on later, the odds of my staying awake are minimal. (I hope). A good job she came, cause I’d left the leek and potatoes on the heat, cooking.

Tablets, injections, and medicines were soon sorted. No treat accepted, and off the Carer went, taking the black bag to the chute for me, bless her.

Got the nosh sorted and consumed. Took a photo of the evening sunset such as it was. Can’t get them on the system yet, I’ll try again in the morning.

TTFN.

Inchcock Today: Inchcock Today Diary – Tuesday 29th March 2022

Inchcock Today: Diary Tuesday 29th March

05:35hrs: Woke to pea-souper fog.

I dragged my not-slept-much body from the clutches of the second-hand, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, £300, c1968,  tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. Then went to make a brew of J Sainsbury Extra Strong tea and drank it pretty quickly cause the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived.

So, off to the wet room come WC I went. And the evacuation operation was positively under the influence of Constipation Conrad!

So, out came the crossword book. As I awaited some movement from the rear end, I studied the clues, determined to do better than yesterday’s solution-finding of only two! There was no rush, so I looked at the options for a good ten minutes. Then the activity started… and stopped a minute later – solidly refusing to recommence again! Which gave me another ten minutes or so of puzzle-solving. Well, that’s not strictly true… I didn’t get one answer! But I persevered, with an unnatural desire to succeed.

As you can see in the second photo, I made no, zilch progress. Which was annoying. Haha!

I went back to the kitchen and sorted out the spring water bottles. Opened the fridge door to find that I’d already done them last night. Dementia Doreen again!

The wee-weeing started and was pretty persistent again throughout the day. I made a brew and got the computer to update Monday’s blog.

Carer Richard arrived. He was looking a little better than yesterday; bless him. We had a good nattering session; things of old we had in common were the theme. I could see he was ready for his bed and appreciated the chinwag but cut it short to let him get home to his medicines and, above all, bed. Bade him farewell, and he took the waste bags to the chute for me. Hope he’s not coming down with anything. He’s got enough already.

By the time I got around to doing this post, I could see clearly the writing on the reminder pad – Consip victory! I’ve not got the foggiest of what it meant! Sad, innit? Hahaha!

I got on the computer again, finished updating, and sent the blog to WordPress.

This morning, jolly good figures from the sphygmomanometer, even though it was nearly midday by now. Gosh, the day is flashing by! Even the body temperature had risen again… bot by a lot, but that’s two days on the up. Things might be getting better? No, I am a fool!

I spent the next four hours on the computer, making mayhaps my biggest cock-up of the year!

I’d started doing a Local News Snippets one for tomorrow! Pillock! And had not finished and posted the Monday one yet!

Then, after updating and sending off the Monday post to WordPress…

Instead of starting this blog, I began doing an Ode blog!!! Gawd or Mighty, I’m Going Potty!

The mind was so puddled. I stopped and went to make a brew of Glengettie tea.

Filled the kettle but did not turn on the heat!!! Argh!

I took these two photographs of the evening sky. There is no sunsetting to speak of, but I still found them beautiful, Mother Nature at her finest. I appreciate There’s something special about the skies, not as much as a good natter. Hehe!

I’d made a start on two blogs now! Neither one finished. And had to get this one started then! Dumbo!

I had a call from Meridian saying the evening carer would be late. They already were. I told them no bother, not to worry. Which was true!

I put some potatoes in the oven and added a pastie later, peas in the pan.

I got on with starting this blog. The evening carer arrived later, apologising. But there was no need; I appreciated that she was in a rush but still found time for a bit of chinwag. 💙

I made some progress with this blog, but it was so late, and tiredness overcame me and my hunger.

I’ll have to finish this in the morning. I’ll get the jammies on and nosh served up now. TTFN.

Wednesday morning update:

I was up until gone midnight again.

Made a well-overcooked meal. But it went down nicely, all the same, despite fighting to keep awake while eating it. Tsk!

The darned Thought-Storms raged again when I washed the pots and got into the c1968 second-hand, E-plan recliner.

Gragnangles!

Inchcock Today: Cock-Ups Supreme! Sat 27th Mar 22

Due to the cock-ups – mishaps, Failing to change the clocks, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpa and two tumbles; This may be a little shorter, less detailed than I would have liked. On the other hand, I might stay up late and do better… I did! Sorry.

05:30hrs (Well, I thought it was at the time): I stirred back into a pretend-life after a terrible night of shooting awakes. Yes, I’d forgotten to retake the Hemp capsule last night!

However, I wasn’t in bad nick after working out the time (Wrongly at it happens then), rose up, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey, and meandered slowly into the kitchenette to put the kettle on. Not easy for me nowadays, with foolishly choosing which one to use does not come easily for me. I decided not to make one yet and get the ablutionalisationing done instead. But needs meant a slight alteration of plans…

Well, it went pretty well! An excellent start to the days’ activities. There is no bleeding, not too much-forcing things to kick-off moving, and minimal pain. It was one of the easiest evacuations for a while. Just a little Dizzy Dennis visit as I was rising from the Throne. Fetched the togs and towel into the wet room and stripped ready for a stand-up wash, shave, teggies, etc. It was too early to use the shower yet, for fear of disturbing other tenants with the noise of the shower unit.

Oh, the ankles were looking a little weather-beaten on both legs. Well, they would be on the legs, I suppose… Hahaha! Fool! The colouring of the tootsies changed from undressing, showering and putting the socks on. (See photos on the left)

This morning, cleaning the teeth was not easy due to the broken tooth hurting when the brush touched around the molar area. I gave them a lighter cleaning. Still, it’s been worse. Then on to the danger zone, the shaving! I lathered up well, checked the blades were still sharp and started…

It may surprise you, it did me… not a single cut! Got the body scrubbing done without anything untoward occurring and then washed the delicate areas.

Bit of bad news here, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding, so a painful experience had to be endured. This month, the Daktacort ointment had been swapped for a new one on the prescriptions. So, never having used this brand before, I gritted my teeth and agonisingly (Phimosis) made room for the ointment to be smoothed into the wound…

Grrreat! Despite things going so well! There was no stinging at all from the lotion, but it took much longer than usual for the bleeding to stop, so no Smug-Mode yet.

I had the usual struggle to get the socks on, but I was determined not to use Sock-Glide-Glenda! I thought, well, the Carer will be here shortly.

So, I went on the balcony and took a photo of the end car park, curious to see how the red van man had parked… Blimey, another red vehicle, had parked in red-van mans’ usual illegal parking space on the chevrons.

Red van man had parked legally and correctly… that’s the first time in four months I’ve seen this; I felt pretty honoured. Hehehe! I think the white vehicle at the far end has been there for a long time now?

Carer Chaymae arrived. We greeted each other, and she got the medications sorted and put them in my hand…

Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The bottle dropped when Peripheral Pete gave me a shaking, straight down spraying water all over me, my socks and trousers onto the floor; Trying to catch the bottle,  I fell knocking over the waste bin and clunked Cathy Cartilages knee as I hit the deck! Carer Chaymae got me back on my feet and picked up the now almost empty from a full water bottle, Tsk! The gal departed with a treat in thanks from me.

On to the computer… and the first of up till now… three Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet failures!

Liberty-Global boss Mike Fries strikes again!

Faffling about getting nowhere with the Liberty-Global crap, net going down repeatedly, I somehow completed yesterday’s blog and sent it off.

I gave up and went to get a mug of Glengettie… What a pillock! I noticed the things on the side I’d put there to make Josie’s meal with… Worse, the watch told me it was 13:15hrs! I was ashamed at failing to get her meal to her on time for the first time ever! I went to her flat but could get no response to ringing the chimers… embarrassed, frustrated and self-loathing was brewing up.

It didn’t help to listen to the bang-bang-away Herbert while I was tensed up.

I called at Josies’ again, and she answered this time, what a revelation this was to me, Humph! I mumbled an apology, and I explained my idiocy in forgetting, and she was very calm about it and asked: “Did you forget to put your clock forwards?” This made me feel a bigger plonker than I already felt! I’d forgotten about the clock changing again this year, fell arse over tit, lost my reading glasses, the internet was crashing all the time, I could feel the blood coming from Little Inchies Lesion! I was not feeling too proud of myself at all!

Panicking, I hastened to get Josies’ meal prepped and served.

I did not want to spoil it by rushing too much, though, so it was about an hour before it was served up and ready for delivery.

I delivered it to her, she said, “It’s too much! You have me looking like Betty Bunter!” Bless her, she says that nearly every week. 💕

Now, I need to unwind… ah, an odd choice of words that. But it reminded me I had to change the three watches, put them forward an hour. Crap, lost another hour! Hehehe!

I took three photos from the kitchenette window of the rather beautiful looking clouds in the sky.

Then set about making a snack; I don’t feel like creating a proper meal. Summat friendly and easy will do me fine, now let’s look at what’s available… Haddock fish cakes, fishcake with pea topping, and the crispy chips will do me. Yes, the last of the chips and some fishcakes will do nicely. Especially as they all need the same time cooking.

Fish tea prepped and served. And I tucked into it with a relish, and I gobbled up the lot of it. Slowly, to get satisfaction from the delightful taste. Heap flavourful! A rating of 804/10, given.

The evening Carer called and got me sorted, just starting her shift, poor thing.

The darkness dawned as I was washing the pots, and I managed to get a shot of the sun setting, which only lasted for about three minutes? I was beginning to feel a little cheerier when…

While listening to the tap-tapping coming from above as I went to put the dishes into the wall cupboard, I had a first-ever for me, incident, event.

I know I was feeling tired, but I still cannot work out how I managed to do this…  – I put the stick down on my foot, not the floor? Automatically, as a reaction, I pulled the foot away, sent the stick (Not Metal Mickey, I was using Wooden Walter at the time), flying and giving myself a decent toe-stubbing at the same time on the cupboard corner beneath the sink. Which made me think…

Have I always been so unlucky? Yes, I think…
I recalled one-day playing solo tiddlywinks,
I got a splinter that turned septic in a blink!
Turned black and didn’t half pen and ink!

Double-pneumonia at three, blood in the pee…
Can’t remember it, but later Dad told me…
Got a part acting in the Chapel matinee,
I knocked over a candle, fire, folks did flee!
I didn’t go again; me and the Vicar did agree!

We went to Skegness, by the sea…
Go-Karting available, for the first time, you see…
Only one was tipped over… of course, by me!
Life even then was not trouble-free…
Ever since, I’ve Whoopsiedangleplopped consistently,

I’m proud to say, now in my decrepity…
Not many folks lived life so discordantly,
I’ve produced constant defeats and failures diligently…
I can expect daily doses of foul-ups, errors & calamity!
No signs of things getting better – disquietingly…

Keep Safe and, above all, Smiling!

Inchcock Today: Belated Photographicalisations – Diary

Belated Photographicalisations INCHCOCKs DIARY

I’m afraid with the mess I made of the files when trying to master the card-reader problem, and then the CorelDraw graphics disaster… that’s a mild word for it! It was no less than a miracle how I managed to get the photos uploaded. Then the reader kept conking out midway through – and the unloaded SD pictures had to be searched for again… Then the card-reader conked out again all together! It’s taken me a lifetime to get them sorted… well, there are more unsorted now! Glagnangles!

Well, he’s been tap-tapping and knocking to keep me company once again, on and off all day! But he can’t help being well-off and all the management loving him so. In fact, as ignorant, unneighbourly, superior-natured, snotty, unresponsive, unfriendly, standoffish, snot-bags go, he’s one of the bestest.

I did have the pleasure of Carer Cheeky Charley calling this morning. So good to have a little natter and laugh. Her having to leave put me back in the dumps, but thankful for her cheeriness! ♥

I’ve not much idea which of the two days I’d no working SD reader photos were taken, but I’ve hazarded my best guess. Tried to get them in the order they were taken… I hope. Here we go…

A morning shot here, Mayhaps Wednesday. (Or, Thursday, or else Friday?) Or not. Got the splinter out! I seem to recollect my knocking over the towel holder and breaking it when I took this shot.

I took the Boot’s BP sphygmomanometerisationing, in the kitchenette, near the microwave machine. Why? Tsk! I haven’t got the foggiest; I can’t even remember taking it.

Still, the 149 Sys reading came out okayish. DIA 70, Pulse at 91. The body temperature was not such a good result, though! Even lower this time, the minimum being 35°c, it was a little low at 33.7°c.

I’m assuming the picture of the Dettol disinfectant would have had something to do with Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding and my need to wash the trews using it?

Aha! I can remember taking this one! I used Carer Richard’s so kindly donated camera. The batteries ran out, but I had some in stock and changed them, got a decent shot? Something bugs me that I may have already put this on a blog? Ah, Thursday this one, when I got the Ocado order delivered, by a helpful bloke who took the bags through to the kitchen, bless his cotton socks. Some great nosh arrived! Marmite cobs, fresh pod peas, potato cheese and leek pies. (Had an Accifauxpa with them, I’ll try to remember to tell you of the farce later). 

A tasty treat of the day, Polish sourdough bread, cheese twists, as well. Oh, and the best cakes I’ve ever had in my life, and I’m gerrin’ on a bit now yer know, Hehehe! Four cream and strawberry jam tartlets… Eat them all? Me? Ahem! Erm… Yes! Got some strawberries as well; going out for treats, they will be. Got the stuff stored away.

I opened a Chukka cheese, leek and onion pie… no, that’s not right, erm… I was close. It was a potato, cheese and leek pie, and as I was putting it back in the fridge having removed the cardboard… Ailment number eight; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, ensured that I dropped the pie on the floor. Swiftly followed up by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete giving me one of his rare, but troubling, drop-something and flail-about, involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler Dances  (As cyber-mate Tim, in New Mexico has Christened them, Hahaha  To round off the farce, I trod on the Chukka pie!

Hence, I had to clean and mop the kitchenette floor yet again. For the third time this week. Each time it was caused primarily by one or more of the ailments. With all the things going wrong lately, I surprised myself with how I got on with the job; I even found myself singing out loud?

Erm,  Thurs… no, Fridays Health Checks  I think  Either one, the SYS and DIA were back up high again; However, the Pulse was down a bit. You can’t win ’em all.

The body temperature was about the same, too low  I’d try the in-the-ear one, but I can’t work out how to get the actual temperature up on display. Fair enough, there are buttons on it to confuse me… Haha!

I think I’ve made a cock-up on this one; I can’t remember eating this at all. So, possibly, Dementia Doreen is having fun with me, or I saved an old photo, not a new one… that is, of course, unless the computer card reader ate the new one?

Ah, this was Thursdays anyway, I reckon, Cause there is sourdough bread in the picture. See that, I worked that out despite Dementia Doreen. Har-har  Yes, I had two Heinz veggie burgers  Texan style. They were delicious  Yellow tomatoes, podded peas and BBQ sauce on the burger sandwiches.

Then… I demolished all four of Marks & Spencer cream and strawberry jam tarts!! Next time, I’ll be hard pushed not to order any more from Ocado – they were out of this world!

Fridays morning  It took me hours to get the blog done with the graphic of Lisa and Bill in their laboratory.

Getting photos onto the system was still a no-no, no-go!

Oh, bloody woe is me! That damned Shuddering Shoulder Shirley is having a ball with me this week. Her timing is just immaculate. I was just stirring the freshly made mug of Glengettie when she gave just one almighty jerk that resulted in tea and broken pottery on the kitchen floor once more that needed to be cleared, cleaned and mopped again!

I can’t take much hassle  Hehehe. There was no singing to myself this time around!

I decided to make a can of ready-made chilli, a hot one it says on the label. Do a few chips in the oven and dunk the Sourdough bread. I wonder if I can get the photograph of the meal onto the computer. What are the odds, Humph!

Saturday morning: Well, Gotten Himmel  The SD card worked first time this morning. This has not been the case for over fifteen days!

The can of strong Chilli-con-carne and garden peas was slowly warmed through. Then I added some grated leeks and some more red beans, Liquid smoke, then the BBQ sauce, all the time stirring it, on a low light, turning up the heat for the last few minutes. The BBQ chips done in the oven were added when I served it up. Some Polish sourdough bread and a Lemon & Lime yoghourt pot rounded off the meal.

Hehe! Delicious! Flavour rating 8.8/10… nothing like being precise.

The evening carer arrived when I was eating it; she was a front door non-chime ringer – didn’t half make me jump when she got in the room  (Haha!)

Sleep was resistant tonight. I tried putting on the TV, but even that didn’t help me nod off. Then the dreaded Thought-Storms arrived… and stayed toying in my brain for hours on end!

I did manage to nod off eventually and stayed that way for four hours, before the traditional springing awake with a jump… needing a wee-wee  So, up I got.

Ode To These Two Days


Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas & affrays!
Bleeding, fears, worries, errors, mistakes always!
Thought Storms, more so than for days…
The mind was unable to sort out or appraise…

The odd bit of good fortune… that did amaze…
Dropsies, I could have had the kitchen ablaze,
Memory blanks, medications and delays…
Forgetting what I’m typing; off the thought strays!

Started recalling the past, all my yesterdays,
Leaving my emotions depressed, in a haze!
But, at least no walking into doorways!
Mind you, on a superb tasting meal, I did graze!

Morning all!

Inchcock Today: Mind-Wandering…

This Mornings View from the Kitchenette Window

FRIDAY 18th FEBRUARY 2022

03:00hrs I woke up and got up, out of habit…
The Thought Storms did not rabbit?
The reluctant brain remained asleep; Dagnabit
My plans ideas were vague, not implicit…
The memory did not want to work or cohabit…
Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, undoubtedly the culprit!
For about an hour, my thoughts were incipit…
Eventually, I got semi-mind-control, well, a little bit,
But confidence and hopes, the brain did prohibit!

I’d had a better nights sleep, six hours with only three jump-awakes. Mind you, it was still early, but the meandering mind had me out of the recliner, catching my balance, no wee-weeing, no making a brew of Glengettie; straight (well, in a wobbly line) to the kitchenette, and started cleaning the fridge?

I was not fully aware of what I was doing until I dropped a warm-wet cloth onto my foot. This is no bull! And it dawned on me what a good job I’d done of cleaning things up? So much so that I took photographs of my handiwork! How I’d done all the stretching and bending, and without any pains as far as I could tell, baffled me, somewhat.

Am I losing my grip quicker than I’d hoped? Not only was the fridge looking really clean and tidy, spick and span, but I also had no aches and pains, and apart from the one drop of the cloth, I spilt or broke nothing either? Yet another puzzle is how I got all this work done in such a short time? Efficiently too, as far as I could tell.

Or had I? How do I know that I did it at all? How can I not remember doing it all? Why can I recall taking out the door trays and washing them in the sink, quite clearly, but little else until the wet rag fell on my foot? Another Blank-Spell methinks… or do I? Why am I seemingly so willing to share and relate these rather odd things on the web? Dementia-Doreen again? Or mayhaps a call for help.

Even more surprising, why am I, after apparently coming out of the fog, feeling so good about things? Hey-Ho, Doreen again?

I had a reluctant wee-wee, washed, and got the laundry bag assembled for collection by the Carer later on. Then off to make a brew of tea, Thompsons Punjana this time. Although dour-looking, the view from the window made me take two shots of it and stick them together (Top of the page).

I pressed on updating yesterday’s blog with the most unexpected enthusiasm; I got it finished and posted off to WordPress. Did the WordPress comments, Emails (lovely one from HRH Lisa). Then I went on the WP Reader.

05:30hrs: And Herbert above started banging, clanging and tap-tapping again. He continued for several hours on and off; it sounded like he kept dropping something metal on the floor? I hope he hurts himself… I mean, he doesn’t hurt himself. ☠

♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang out. In came Carer Cassie. Now, this may be hard for you to understand, but I had to ask her her name again this morning. The gal took it all in her stride, so I assume many others in these flats are affected by the dreaded Vascular-Dementia-Doreen, and cannot remember the Carers names the same as me? Hehehe! Cassie soon got the medicationings done, collected the laundry bag, and off she trotted, with a thank you nibble and drinkie-poo.

Ablutioning Time!

What a session that was! Mucho-super good, but listening to the Storm Update on the radio was a smidge alarming. For more than one reason. In the first place… ① No, I say zilch cuts when shaving! ② No teeth bleeding. ③ Not a single toe stubbing! ④ No banging into or knocking anything over! ⑤ No leaving taps running!

Storm Warning: Will reach Nottingham this afternoon, ETA 15:00hrs. Parks are closing cause of the danger of trees etc., being blown over. Building structural damage, roofs, etc. at high risk, possibly endangering life. And that’s just for Nottingham, where they anticipate we will be far less affected? All calm but cols out there at the moment, though.

The mark where I knocked over the knife block is clearing up well; it never hurt anyway. Showering went smoothly, too!

I dried off medicated what needed attention. The legs seem to be putting on some weight, higher up? Not surprising, really, I can’t get out and about much nowadays. Spit!

I even got the socks on without the dangerous nerve-wrangling assistance of the green wired Sock Glide Glenda!. This was the only part of the ablutionalisationing session that caused me any real pain. Even then, it was far less than usual. What’s going on today? The mind is confused; the body refuses to feel pain… I hope I’ve not died and nobody has told me? Hahaha!

Even getting the PP’s (Protection Pants) on, there were no tumbles or loss of balance that mattered?

The mini-scar where I hit my head attacking the power box in the shower three days ago is scabbing up well.

Freshened up with the Brute spray, and got the alarm wristlet back on, watch, and alert wristbands.

Ah, I thought things were going too well… well, they were! Putting the Warfarin Alert band on my wrist, it snapped and shot up, knocking of my spectacles! Luckily the frames and lens were not damaged (I hope). Not that the glasses are worth much now the Cataracts Katie, Glaucoma Gloria, and Saccades Sandra are all affecting my sight.

The Blood Pressure readings were okay. The temperature was even lower today, I tried it again later, and it was up to 24.5°c. So okay there now.

Back on the blogging, and Sister Jane rang on the landline. She was very concerned and worried… Oh, yes! She wanted to know if I’d still got the bottles of wine for her and Pete safely stored away… Hehehe!

We had a natter, but the line was terrible, made worse by our Jane having throat trouble, poor little croaker. She’s off to the doctor later; I hope she’ll be okay.

I did some more work on the blog, then decided to try the J Sainsbury site to see if they were going to deliver the Great Scot dried vegetables that Jane wanted. I’ve ordered them four times without any luck. Humph!

I tried to get through to Sainsbury’s and Ocado to see if they had any Great Scots in stock. Sainsbury’s off-line again! Ocado has removed them from the listings. Sorry, Jane!

Faded fast. Made a nosh of sorts.

Carer arrived without the laundry. She returned with it, crammed in the bag, no freshener or crystals used. Clothes not folded, and all wrinkled. Not happy with this at all.

Kip.

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