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Inchcock – Monday 24th August 2020: Yee-ha, got a proper little chinwag in!

Cool TFZers, at the Cool-It-Cabin

 

Monday 24th August 2020:

Welsh: Dydd Llun 24 Awst 2020

02:30hrs: I woke up, struggled up out of the £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, grotty, sickeningly-beige-coloured, c1968, rickety recliner, with the innards in a state of turmoil, grinding away.

I think that the innards are far from settled yet, I got Metal Mickey and wobbled off to the wet room for a wee-wee. Although I might not have bothered, a minuscule spot of spraying droplets all over me and the wet-room furniture was a much as I could manage. And that took me some effort.

I did see that the, what I thought was a dying-off leg ulcer, seems more likely to in a transportation-mode! It definitely is moving up the leg and towards the centre of the shin, now? Spreading out, but not inflamed at all?

Got things cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. The BP readings, Sys was down on yesterday, but still too high! The body temperature read as 84.4°f.

Somehow, during the photographing of the sphygmomanometer, I knocked some morning tablets and a capsule off of the counter. What a farce it was trying to find them! I managed to get two of the escapees, but the Pentoxifylline capsule was unfindable, but I may discover it later in the day; when I’m bound to drop something else and search for that? Hahaha! I took the medications, bar one, of course.

I thought I’d take shots of the same area, facing the kitchenette window. Both in Auto-mode. One with the flash off, the one with it switched on. 

Well, the flash certainly works on the Nikon! Hehehe!

I’m glad it did, I’ve been looking for the new grotty reseda-green trousers for a while now, I spotted them hanging with the airing laundry in the window. Why there? No idea! Still, I’m glad I found them.

I got the updating done of the Sunday post and made up a template. Made a brew of Glengettie tea. During the time of doing these actions. I had five more MSD (Minuscule-SPraying-Droplets wee-wees!)

Pinterested a few photos, sent off the link, went on Facebooking (I hate the new layout), then had a perusal of the WordPress Reader.

Made a start on this blog and had to visit the Porcelain Throne. I got the crossword book put.

Well, things have started to change in this department at last. I got down, splutter, splash, and all over in seconds! I thought this was a good sign; until I rose from the Throne. The evacuated product had disappeared from view altogether without any flushing (liquid?), the passing was so painful I felt sure solids had returned? And as for bleeding! Another load of washing and cleaning and sanitising needed! No point in medicationalisationing yet, I can do that with the ablutioning.

I spent an hour or so, updating this post, in between wee-weeing, of course. Then realised it was gone time to get the ablutions and medicalisationing done. I have to get a move on, just in case the Iceland delivery or Vampire Nurse arrives earlier than planned!

Back in a bit… Now I’ve found the trews, I decided to leave the black ones to soak in the bowl, while I tended to the ablutions.

I’m back! What an amazingly successful ablutioning session, mind you, the medicationalisationing didn’t go too well. Dropsies of only four, teeth-cleaning, shaving showering and drying off! Oh, yes! Medicationing, about ten! And a tumble.

Well, I suffered one of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, but it was in slow motion of sorts. How come? As I grabbed various things to stop the fall but failed each time, I tried something else to get a hold of, so it was a plunge in stages, so as to speak. Clearing most of the stuff off of the floor cabinet as I went. Tsk! Got a scratch above the left foot’s little toe in the process of the mock-dance that seemed to have elements of a soft-shoe-shuffle, the twist, and a waltz in it. Hahaha!

I sorted myself out, got the trousers and slippers on, and poddled to the kitchen, to get the black pants washed. I think, with it being the first wash, it took so many rinses to clear the soap and water.

They might be cheap but are thick materialed trews, so it will take a long time to dry. I got them done, wrung and hung to dry on one of the new coat hangers. Hopefully, doing it this way, the creases will part-fall-out with the water, or not! I expect them to be dry enough to wear, sometime around Christmas or New Year.

I took a photograph of the clouds and sky from the kitchenette window, with some of the City Centre high rise buildings highlighted in the morning sunshine as it came out from behind, to greet us good morning.

I got on with updating this post. Then I made a brew of Glengettie, and the agony from the back teeth when I sipped the brew… Argh! I’ll have to ask someone to phone the Dentist for me, to see if they can fill the three bothersome teeth for me.

I got an email from Ingeus, the quomodocunquizing, profit-seeking private company, who run the diabetes courses for the NHS. It oozes compassion, empathy and understanding, doesn’t it? Bearing in mind, I have spoken to four of their impatient representatives (well, one of them was alright, and was patient with my stuttering and lack of hearing!), and it was hard work.

Decided? Did I have any choice? I told them of my problem getting onto the Zoom sight they use for lessons. No advice was given, not that I could hear everything they were saying properly anyway.

And I eventually got on and was given an access number. Later, when the course was due to start, this number was not recognised! The frustration was making me ill. So I told the last caller, I would have NO OPTION but to wait until the face-to-face meetings started because it was physically impossible for me to get on-line! And if had, my saccades and lack of hearing would be such a hassle in any group discussion I could not partake in. And Stuttering Stephanie would surely have made the other participants really pissed-off!

I got, “Well, I’ll have to contact your GP and tell them…” The tone of voice, although masked, was quickly interpreted by my keen EQ. Annoyance!

I’ll ignore this email if I die then so be it. They, even the Doctor, seems to have no idea how difficult things are; when one can’t hear on phones, at times even speak (Stephanie), and am in some pain of one sort or another all day and every day, and dropping things or walking into things!

So what do they do after all that, tell me to phone them!

Niggleclumps! and Granglespithowlations! Gits!

No, I had a change of mind! I’ll try the number to see if it is a face-to-face or computer link. Bloody Marvellous! A rushed recorded message, of which I did catch a few random words. Ingeus… Diabetes… between 09:00hrs and… training purposes… longer than usual… I’m pissed-off again!

The door chime rang out, it was the Iceland delivery cometh. Not a lot today, some slightly naughty options had been ordered! Hehe!

I got the bags into the kitchen and put away the frozen first. Battered fish fillets, and a pack of the Chinese belly pork, but there was not enough room for this box, so I put them in the fridge to cook later one (cunning, eh?) Belly pork and baked beans, that sounded like a decent choice?

But, no bread sent from Iceland as a substitute for the not available wholemeal bread thins. Fear not, I took out a pack of Sourdough muffins from the freezer, to thaw them out. I got the fridge things stacked and crammed in. Hehehe!

I’d just about got everything away, and the intercom rang out. But it stopped in a few seconds. Obviously, the Vampire Nurse had been let in by a resident. Hristina arrived and let herself in, and soon took my blood, and we had a mini-natter into the bargain. Lovely! ♥

I added these details to the blog. Then got the black bags made up, and onto the three-wheeler. I got a bit of an insecure feeling, of whether I’d left the taps running in the kitchen, so diverted to have a check on things. All okay, and I spotted a rarity that deserved snapping. A space in the car park!

I returned to the hallway and finished off the loading of the three-wheeler walking trolley, with the bags. Definitely going to be a dodgy hobble with this load, to the waste-chute room. Haha!

But once done, I’d only have the one white recycling bag that needed taking down and out to the caretakers big green bin left to do, then. I took the smaller Canon camera with me, safe in the pocket of the jacket. It’s got a strong wristlet strap on it. I always try to make sure I use it, especially when taking shots from the window.

I got the depositing of the bags done easily enough, but I caught my already injured left little toe between the trolley and doorframe as I reversed out of the little room. Grobbledamitt!

To and down in the lift, and through the people-less foyer, out into the fresh air. It was a grand feeling, even if the agony from the toe bothered me. (A bit of sympathy seeking there, Sorry! Haha! Out and put the bag where the bin usually is but isn’t today. Crossed the road, and took this picture of my beloved Woodthorpe Court from the car park on Chestnut Walk. I took hobble along, taking photos en route.

These flowers, battling to produce new buds, were nearby the sloping tiles to the roadway, directly opposite the modern, extra care Winwood Court entrance. Bootiful!

I saw my first person to talk to as I was snapping the new building. Ray, or Roy… er maybe it was Frank, on his disability scooter said good morning, (I think that’s what he said, anyway, Hehehe!) as I moved into the bushes to allow him to pass by.

I went further up Chestnut Walk, enough to get to take this photograph, of the impressive looking Winchester Court. I’m somewhat taken to the colouring that Nottingham City Homes have given the building now.

I went back and over the Walk into the Windwood Court Extra Care building, and left to the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) office. 

 Where, I’m delighted to tell you that I had a little gossip, with Riechsfuhreress and Desktop Dancer Warden Julie, and Catwalk Model, Oberscharfuhreress Warden, Deana.

The highlight of the day, being able to have a chinwag! I really hope I can get outside proper soon, it’s driving me crazy having to stay inside and suffering Herbert’s noises!

On my way back to Woodthorpe Court, I stopped to take a close picture from the base of the Court. Had a visit from Dizzy Dennis when I as leant back taking the snap. Tsk! If it’s not one ailment, it’s another! Feeling a bit of self-pity there, sorry, it won’t happen again.

I got my strong, burly, ripped-stomached, muscular, magnificently-honed body into the main foyer of the building. Alright, I got my wobbly, short, gigantically-bellied body inside the building! Nick-picking! Hahaha!

Got to the elevators, and sent the contractor’s lift, that was on the ground floor up, and pressed the call button again, to get the resident’s cage to come down. As I took this photograph of the electronic notice board in the lift lobby, the picture on it was changing.

I got inside the flat, put the walker in the corner, and got the kettle on. Took the computer out of sleep mode, and Herbert dropped something on his floor. Twice, then the tapping and knocking continued on and off, for many hours again. Not that I’m complaining, and won’t do, last time, and the only time I did, I got told off. ‘He’s a wonderful man doing models for charity’ I was told. Oh, I’m sorry about that! But surely they can’t throw me out for saying what is actually happening? Oh, maybe they can! I’d better keep my gob shut then?

I opened a can of curried beans, and put some of the Hoisin sauce to them to marinate until needed with the Chinese belly pork slices. And I pressed on with updating for this blog.

Hello, Herberts stopped making any noise, I do hope he’s not poorly. 

I went to make another mug of Glengettie tea. I stirred the beans in the saucepan, and nibbled one – Argh! Earlier, I’d put in the liquid smoke by mistake for the Hoisin sauce! It was an odd flavour! I put some Hoisin in, I’ve no idea what I’m doing at times!

Back to the computer, and made a Morrison order up online. I got it in for 12:00 > 1300hrs, on Tuesday 1st September, the very date triggered my EQ as I typed it, and is not well-starred for some reason. Oh, dearie me!

Got it accepted, then Josie rang the door chimes, she was returning the things from the Sunday lunch. She said the meal was fine, but I think she was being kind to me. Bless her! She returned the goodies carrier bag again.

Getting tired and the fatigue is returning now, along with Shaking Shaun and Shirley. Better get the pork in the oven, in case I nod-off or something. Got the pork, poured a drop of Hoisin on each of the little pieces, and got it in the oven.

Clunk thud! Ah, Herbert’s alright. He’s not been so bad today, no teeth-shaking drilling or bashing of the hammer. Much betterer!

Pressed on with this post for twenty-minutes, then went to check on the meat. 

I moved the drying on the coathanger black trousers, into the sunshine in the kitchen window, they seemed to be drying-off a lot quicker than I had anticipated.

I got the tray out to eat the meal off of, and discovered last nights medications! So, I missed them again. Dumbo!

But no one has called me about the INR results or new dosages for the week, neither the surgery, nor the Anticoagulation, & Deep Vein Thrombosis Warfarin Clinic?

Got the meal served up, and the cooking things in the sink to soak for cleaning later with the dish and other items.

The sourdough muffins, were the perfect thing for dipping in the beans sauce, Mmm!

An odd flavour in the beans, (accidentally putting in the liquid smoke, is the cause of this) but they had a certain palatableness. Gave this a flavour rating of 7/10.

I got the pots washed, took the evening medications from yesterday. Tsk! 

The marks from the morning toe-stubbing have already nearly cleared away. What an odd metabolism I have? Hahaha!

Sleep came a bit quicker tonight. So, there is a chance that if anyone had called me, I would not have heard or seen the flashing landline. After an hour or so of perfect bliss, the waking up and Thought Storms began. Hogwash!

Inchcock – Sunday 23rd August 2020: A busy day, in a way, I must say! Noisy Herbert’s noisiest ever day!

Cool TFZer, at the Cool-It-Cabin ♥

Saturday & Sunday 22nd/23rd August 2020

22:15hrs Saturday 22nd: After a day of seeing and talking to nobody, but myself, six liquidly productive visits to the Porcelain Throne, and my innards all bubbling, gurgling and aching; then being woke up twice by the chap up above me (he’s drilling away making a model methinks), and not daring to eat anything, I gave up my search for Sweet Morpheus, and rose to finished yesterdays blog early and got it posted off to WordPress.

Later I risked a pot noodle for a late supper. This could prove a mistake later, Hahaha! Finished the blog, did some Pinteresting, sent off the links, and went on the WordPress reader. Then found the desire for kip returning and got my head down.

Sunday 23rd August 2020

Samoan: Aso Sa 23rd Aukuso 2020 

06:00hrs: I’d slept all the way through for 6½hrs! More than I have for the last three nights combined! Smug Mode Anticipated – But it was not to be!

The lightness of the morning, the confused mind, and the need for a wee-wee were the original expergefactor’s cause. On the first movement of my onerously large-bellied body, the queasy, nerve-wracking, gut-wrenching, nauseating, gurgling, rumbling disturbances in the innards returned, going on an intestinal-rampage. Fear of a repeat of yesterday’s six liquidified Porcelain Throne visits bothered me! But no real indication of any immediate explosions imminent, just the stomach going through the building-up, preparatory motions! Oh, ‘eck!

I disentangled my grossly overgrown bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner. Got Metal Mickey, and hobbled to the wet room for a wee-wee. The message from the bladder told me to be prepared for splash-backs, spraying, and forceful exiting. But no, it was an OSUADE (Orange-Sprinkly-Unpainful-After-Dribble-Ever-Coming) type. Had a wash and off to the kitchenette. I was hobbling around better than usual this morning?

I got the kettle on the boil, and I took a photographicalisation of the late morning sky. I even had a few moments of pareidolia pleasure with the clouds. I found a couple of hidden figures, too! Then as I looked down towards the Tree Copse on the bottom field, I spotted what looked like dumped rubbish?

So I zoomed in with the Nikon camera to investigate. This below is what I found. At first, I thought it was a lad or lady that had fallen asleep. But I should have known, it was someone on their Smartphone, all alone, possibly living in the Cupid Zone! Hahaha!

I made the brew of Glengettie tea and got the sphygmomanometer going for the BP reading.

Great balls of fire! The SYS was very high again? The ear-hole thermometer read, 74.4°. Fahrenheit or centigrade? It must be f°. The stick thermometer was not working again. I’ll try again later, cause I think that 74.4° might be a bit too low, I’ll check on Google.

The Google answer: ‘Really, anything between 98.2 and 99.9 degrees can be considered normal. A body temperature below 98.2 degrees Fahrenheit is considered abnormal, and anything below 95 degrees Fahrenheit is a major cause for concern, as it indicates a risk of hypothermia’. Well, that’s cheery news! Summat else to put on the list for when I see the Doctor. High SYS, low temperature, diahorrea or infection of the bowels, bladder refusing to expel… Never mind, too much to cope with. Hahaha!

On the bright side, the leg ulcer is looking like it’s fading fast.

The stomach gave me another rumbling, brewing load of gut turmoil, but no signs of any evacuation needed as yet. I think it’s fermenting and liquifying its contents in readiness for another sudden assault? Hehe!

My articular cartilage ailment in the fingers is just painful when it wants to be. Like now! No logic to when. A bit like Colin Cramps. I wonder if the Doctor has time to read my blogs? It would save me forgetting what to put on the notes I take with me to see her. Well, I used to, anyway.

Took the morning medications, and got on with updating this blog.

No summoning to the Porcelain Throne yet. But it’s on the way methinks, the rumbling and grumbling seem to be getting a tad more vociferous. 

Onto CorelDraw to make some graphics up. Did one, then made up an Iceland order, for delivery tomorrow, twixt 09:00 > 11:00hrs. My beloved Vampire Nurse Hristina will be due around the same time, I hope, as well. Did some comment answering, and set about prepping Josies’ Sunday meal. ( Accompanied by some knocking and tapping from Herbert, above).

Got the meal finished and delivered to Josie.

Accompanied by some louder clunks, tap-tapping, etc. fro Herbert, I went back on, which turned out to be a lengthy session of making graphics on CorelDraw and Paint. But, Herbert and his Tinny-Banging noise kept his musical rapping up, to keep me company.

I got the smaller-eat-less meal prepared. Not one of my bestest, but I still gave it a Taste-Rating of 7/10. Washed the pots up.

I began to fade, but I had to fight sleep intentionally because the expected Amazon Facemasks had not arrived yet, I didn’t want to miss them.

Herbert’s knocking and banging got more frequent, but for once, it helped me stay awake when I wanted to!

I settled into the incommodious, c1968 rickety recliner. I turned on the TV, on some channel that had subtitles on it, so as to avoid wearing the headphones and not hearing the door chimes when the Amazon man arrived.

As it happened, there was no chance of my falling asleep, thanks to Herberts banging from above, changed to hammering. The knocking came in bouts of 3 to 12 clunks of a hammer-like sound, that vibrated, it sounded like he was laying a carpet, but we have concrete floors or something of that ilk. Over the next three hours, having nothing better to do, I wrote down each burst of banging. First half-hour; 14. Second half-hour; 11, third half-hour; 38. Fourth half-hour: 18. I bet it will piss him off when he reads this and finds it didn’t annoy me for once!

Eventually, the noise, whatever modelling he was working on ceased, and it was back to just the odd, thud, clunk or occasional bang. This worried me a tad, as I still had to stay awake. Hehehe!

I was struggling to keep awake now, the odd clunk from Herbert helped, but finally, the intercom rang out. I fought to get some trousers on. The masks arrived. Thanked the driver, and as I was taking a quick snap of the box, the long-awaited call to the Porcelain Throne arrived! Off to the wet room, I hobbled.

Stubbing a toe en route against swivel chairs metal leg! Argh!

I got seated, and the motions began immediately. Then stuck part-way. The crossword book was utilised until things restarted moving of their own accord. A messy, very tacky, sticky, gooey mess! The cleaning up afterwards was a time-consuming effort. However, things came out far less liquidified, and in large meatball shapes. No bleeding whatsoever!

After cleaning and medicating, I realised that I’d left a different, more pungent whiff behind than ever before. The tummy’s innards started to ache, and I was passing wind involuntarily. An irony taste came in the mouth? A proper odd situation.

I checked the lights, stove, faucets, etc. and got down in the sickeningly beige-coloured recliner, now hoping that Herbert didn’t kick off again with his noise, I went in search of belated Sweet Morpheous.

But, and however, as I got settled in, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and the Thought-Storms both began!

I’m fed-up!

Inchcock – Saturday 22nd August 2020: The Porcelain Throne visited Six times. Oooher!

Cool TFZer, at the Cool-It-Cabin

Saturday 22nd August 2020

Russian: Суббота, 22 августа 2020 г.

02:50hrs: I woke up, to wish that the urgent need for a wee-wee had not arrived and I could have stayed ensconced in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968, rickety, rusty, ready-for-the-scrap-heap, none-working recliner. (A slight case of clinomania, here?) But there you are! Up and off to the wet room, I trundled, nearly falling over Metal Mickey (Four-pronged walking stick) en route.

I think I might be in for some ‘passing problems’ today. The wee-wee was off of the WTWIWI (Weak-Trickling-Was-It-Worth-It) mode, and dysautonomia affected as well. At least there was very little liquid to make much mess, more of a fine spray, as Little Inchy splayed around out of my control, like a miniature hose-pipe. I washed up, and then got the overnight emergency bucket set up, I had a feeling things in the wee-weeing department were going to be little and often (I was right).

To the kitchen, and got the Health checks done. It was a lot colder in there this morning, I checked the windows, they were all closed?

The BP readings were still a smidge high. The thermometer gave a body temperature of 84.0°f.

I took the medications and made a brew of Glengettie tea for myself. And, appetisingly flavoursome, it was! I like the new milk in the sachets, just tight for a mug this size. Although I imagine it would not be enough for many folks.

I tried (and failed) again to take a morning view photograph that was as the eye saw it, using the aperture priority setting. Still, I’ve made so many worse efforts over the years, I’m afraid to say.

As I was taking the brew through to the computer area, suddenly sharp stabbing pains developed, so off I limped to the Porcelain Throne.

I got seated, and the feelings from the innards advised me to get the crossword book in use. Things were not keen on moving again! Pure pain had to be endured, pushing or forcing anything was out of the question, just too hurtful. I was doing well and got three or four clues answered when the pathetic evacuation started, and it was all over within seconds. But I knew I’d be back, experience told me. Washed up, and didn’t do any medicating, because I was sure I’d be back later, for the ‘Big-One!’

I had to make a fresh mug of tea to replace the gone-cold one. On the computer, and made up a template, then finalised yesterday’s diary, which amazingly didn’t take me so long as usual. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, Anne Gyna, and Shaking Shaun, all being kind to me! Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley gave me the odd shaking, but even she was not too profligate. Hang on, is that the word I was wanting? I’ll make do with bothersome instead. I got the post sent off and put some photos on Pinterest.

Porcelain-Throne – Two: Suddenly, the stabbing, stomach pains began again, so it was back to the Porcelain Throne. I got sat down, reached for the crossword book and pen, and Whoosh! The evacuation, and a massive painful but quick one it was, flowed!

After this great dollop of a release, I knew it would not be a waste of time if I got the cleaning up and medicating done. Boy, oh boy, Frank’s Furuncles, Harolds Haemorrhoids, and Devlin’s Decubitus combined to give me a right few moments of agony as I applied the creams, and I overdid the spread of the Chlorhexidine cream! Hehehe!

I did, however, notice how the right ankle ulcer, was no longer looking threatening. In fact, apart from a little itching, there was no pain at all, and the colourations and skin growths had all but disappeared! Great!

Back on the computer, and made an order for Amazon for some more face-masks. Then made a start on this post. After an hour or so, The stinging from the innards returned, followed by a nerve-making, worrying gurgling noise? I hastened to the wet-room!

Porcelain Throne – Three: Talk about in the nick-of-time! The second I deposited my stomach-burdened body on the plastic, the evacuation started, I had no control over it. 90% liquid, stunk awful, and a fair amount of it shot out! Now, I am getting a bit fretful about the situation! Of course, it’s a Saturday, so no one to ask for advice.

I reflected on the Porcelain Throne movements so far.

  • No.1 – One large sold mass, lump, which was a nightmare to get rid off. Much bleeding, a marathon session.
  • No.2 – Another big one, not so solid, no bleeding, but it took ages. Some control over the flow.
  • No.3 – Almost all liquid, shot out with a venom; it sprayed over me and the toilet. No bleeding again, but the aroma left, was much worse than the other two were. Cleaning up the wet room and myself, took aeons!

My Lucubrations are confused, apprehensive ready for the worst! I have a feeling as I type this, of another build-up brewing within! I believe I’m going to be in for hodiernal-hell!  Ungleflopbogglings! Hello, already I can feel the short stabbing pains building up again in the lower intestines.

If I have to go again, and things are no betterer, I’ll try ringing 111 for advice, methinks.

Another mug of tea gone cold, so I thought it best not to make another one until the innards have steadied down. I went on the WordPress Reader.

Then worked on CorelDraw, making a couple of blog top graphicalisations.

Yet another summoning to the Porcelain Throne – Four! Embarrassingly, I did not make it in time! A watery evacuation, thank heavens for the PP’s I was, and always wear! The stomach ached severely this time, after the completion. The cleaning and medicating is beginning to get me down today! I’ll have to get some more over the counter medications again soon. I certainly didn’t feel ill, but uncomfortable afterwards.

I decided against having anything to eat, and I cut the tea out. For a meal, I had some plain shortcake biscuits, and a drink of spring water, a lot of water, actually, a thirst had gripped me.

I had to stop computerisationing and got down in the recliner with a bottle of water, and some plain biscuits. And sleep soon came to me, off I drifted.

I was woken up by some drilling from Herbert above. I was still not feeling well, and the sudden noise, made me shout out loud a naughty word, and request for him to stop banging and drilling. Shame-Mode-Engaged! It lasted a few more minutes, and silence fell. I must be in a weary mood, because I drifted off again, ah, bliss!

Shagglesworth! Unbelievable! I was beckoned to the Porcelain Throne visit number Five! I got to the wet room in time this time. Phew!  Much less content evacuated, still, it was almost all liquid again. And the stomach aching began afterwards, as before. But it cleared pretty quickly on this occasion.

Back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, uncomfortable, rickety recliner. And, yet again, sleep came swiftly.

I was woken up by some more drilling from Herbert above yet again, Gawd it was loud this time! I reckon he was doing his drilling right above me, and me with no hearing aids in, still thought it was loud! Louder than when the Fire Alarm that went off in the flat! I’d love to know what it is he’s making, though! 

I waited for Herbert to stop his noise, and had a long, hard time getting back to sleep, and seems that seconds after I did… Crapolaville!

Porcelain Throne – Six! Another rush of sorts to the wet room ensued! Aha, this evacuation produced only a few splatterings, some with blood spots in it, mind, and was all over in seconds! And there was no tummy-ache to follow.

So, even with it being so late on, I decided to get the ablutions done, with the appreciation that while doing them, I’d be handily placed for any Porcelain Throne demands. (But they seemed to have stopped, at last, no calls during the 40 minutes or so of the ablutionalisationing were needed! Yee-ha!

Ablutionisationing Incident Report Log:

  • The ankle ulcer has almost disappeared now!
  • Toothache Thomas kicked off when I cleaned the teggies. The often-filled maxillary is still hurting now, Tsk! No dropsies, though!
  • The shaving dropsies; shaving foam can, razor (4). Cuts five!
  • Showering; a short sharp Dizzy Dennis attack. But no clouting myself on any grab bars, or any toe-stubbing! Oh, Yes! Dropsies: flannel (3), soap (4), showerhead, and the spectacles as I was putting them back on.

All-in-all, a good session!

The medicationalisationing had its moments, but best if I don’t mention any details, other than perhaps, Argh! Hehe! I got the bleeding to stop in the end.

I risked making a brew of Glengettie Gold, but would not risk having anything to eat, yet. See how I feel later one.

Wonderful clouds tonight.

I did some CorelDrawing. Then decided to make an Inchcock Today template up.

There was a bit more rattling and thudding from Herbert above, but at least he’s not drilling at the moment.

Could I get to sleep again?

Nope!

So I got up and posted this off.

Inchcock – Friday 21st Aug 2020: Plenty of Whoopsie and Accifauxpas, but a betterer day. Yee-Ha!

Cool TFZer, at the Cool-It-Cabin! ♥

Friday 21st Aug 2020

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 21ain Awst 2020

03:00hrs: Woke, wrestled out of the c1968 recliner, and I limped with Metal-Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) to the wet room for a wee-wee. Which was of the WTOP (Weak-Trickling-Orange-Painful) variety. Still, these ‘Guess What It Will be Like’, ever-varying wee-wees give me something to look forward to in a morning. Hehehe!

The ankle ulcer was looking to me as if the vesication was on the verge of clearing up! All the matter had cleared, leaving just a few, on the surface itchy spots showing. Artistically designed mind. It can’t be a bad sign, this.

As I made my way into the kitchen, it dawned on me how easily I’d been getting around, and, not walked into or bumped into any doors or whatever! (A genuine first time in months event!) I’d even taken the wee-wee, without any signs of wobbling, balance-loss, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or Dizzy Dennis bothering me.

My being a nebbech, worry-wart, fatalist, and pessimist (as is sure to be expected for an ill-fated, unlucky nincompoop like me), I cautiously refused to listen to the urge from within, to adopt a smug-mode. I knew better, and my EQ was at that very time, warning me of frustrations to come again today! Which was a little disheartening after the last four days of anguish, failure and nowt much, going right! Grobbleknangles! 

But I could be wrong, cause the Health checks went alright and the sphygmomanometerisationing BP results,  were not so bad.

Perhaps a smidge high on the SYS. The working-again Thermometer read 83.5°f, which seemed good enough to me. And, taking the medications, I didn’t drop a single tablet or capsule, and failed to spill or drop the Peptac bottle! Oh, yes! Still, I resisted going into a Smug-Mode!

I got on the computer, and for some unascertained reason, I found this clip I’d taken later when I got around to putting the photos in the diary? Why? No idea, now!

Then as I got on the computer, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Anne Gyna and Nocodemus’s Neurotransmitters all attacked me at the same time! Yee God’s I was in a state! Confused, bewildered and not able to concentrate at all. I took some painkillers, cause Anne Gyna was really having a crack at me! The clanging from above didn’t help.

The wind was getting up high again, the trees were taking a bashing out there. I’ll see if I can take some photo’s later on, of the area around the flats. Hello, it’s getting brighter now, but the winds are still howling!

 There I was, thinking how well I was doing under the circumstances… and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had my hand all over the place – and I ended up with the Catagories and Tags, disappeared from the editor, on WordPress! Oy, oy, oy! Sick to the teeth with ailments causing problems for me, every single day!

Yet again, I’ve no idea how, or what I did. But when the hands fly, the main concentration is on not knocking anything over and staying in the chair! I spent hours trying to get to find out how to get them back, but nope!

I used the setting button at the top of the editor, removed the selected he ticks, but failure, being my password and nickname, nothing happened. I did an email to Mr Price, asking for advice on the subject.

Oh, boy, what a picklement I’ve got myself into again! I’m more behind now than usual and feeling rather low in spirits, morose, depressed, and more tenebrific with things. Gragnackles! Grrr! I took a picture through the rain-letting in, balcony, the one with the finger trapping metal release clips,  and that need pushing and pulling at the same time to open or close the side windows. And the thick frames that rattle and spoil the view.

This is how the balcony looked when I first moved in, airy, easy, simple, bootiful! I do miss the old one so much!

But of course, I’m not bothered in the slightest! Off to the wet room, I poddled, taking my frustrations with me. A tap-tapping from Herbert above accompanied me.

Albutioning Session Report

  • The anticipation call to the Porcelain Throne did not arrive.
  • Cleaning the teeth, I dropped the battery toothbrush, somehow it still worked after being retrieved.
  •  The shaving was again bloody. Hehehe! Three tiny nicks, both earholes and under the chin.
  •  Ah, the showering, that did not go so well. Dropped the showerhead, flannel (3), carbolic soap (2), and the hand-rail was clobbered with my right elbow.
  •  Drying off, had a nasty Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis session. I sat on the shower chair for a while, during which Saccades Sandra had a bash at me. Soon came round, and started the medicalisationing.
  •  Dropsies: The Germoliod and Daktacort cream tubes (3), I went up a class with next Whoopsie, and dropped the Germolene pink tube without realising it, trod on it looking for my spectacles. Well, at least the floor will be ready-medicated if it gets a cut! Haha! Cleaned up.
  • Getting the PP’s on, I lost my balance. (No ailments to blame as far as I could tell, I just went over, backwards). A spot of luck with this though, I was so close to the door, it broke my fall, I slid down and clumped on my backside with a thud! I’ll likely have a bruise on the coccyx.
  •   Had to redo the Haemhorroid Harolds, they were bleeding a bit, and needless to say, stinging. I do hope that the noise of my tumble didn’t annoy Herbert up above. It took a while to stop the flow of the red stuff, but I managed. Cleaned it up again, and got some more Germoloid on them. Costing me a fortune this is!

I had to work on the blog, and try not to get annoyed at the missing details. I remembered later, I need to do an order for next week, should it be with Morrisons or Sainsbury’s? A quick check on the Surimi stocks in the fridge, and recalling the crush oven dishes last time, and I decided it would be Sainsbury’s, cause Morrisons do not sell the better ones. I got it done in a reasonable time, 20 minutes or so, got a slot for Tuesday 25th August, but a little later in the day at 15:00 > 16:00hrs. I put this on the Google Calendar.

As I stood up to make a mug of tea, my forecast for getting a bruise on my coccyx proved right. It was like a dull ache as soon I tried to stand up. It made using Metal Micky a bit painful. The elbow was aching a bit too. Such a choice of pains, aches and stings, I’m blessed really!

I made the brew and got settled at the computer again. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed again, and I ended up losing some writing I’d done, and had scrolled right down at the bottom of the WordPress editing page… which was good!

I found the tags and categories I’d lost! What a Shlemiel I am! I sent an email to Tim Price telling him and apologising for bothering him, again. The chap’s saved my bacon no-end of times with WordPress problems.

The wind was getting more and more bothersome now. I bet it gets some of the tenants a bit worried, as well as me. Haha! I had to get up for another wee-wee, and the pain in the rear-end seemed a little less bothersome and sore?

I put the kettle on to make a brew to replace the one that had gone cold. And opened the window to take some shots of the scenery, and nearly got myself blown backwards into the kitchen! Good Heavens! I’ve not got a shirt on either!  Hahaha!

But, with me being the brave, heroic, gallant, daring, intrepid, fearless, lionhearted, indomitable, stalwart, masculine, young man that  I am, I persevered with taking the Inchcock Today photographicalisationing. Ahem!

I had to laugh. I spotted some clothes on a washing line straight ahead of me. And zoomed in to get a shot of the shirts, I think they were, blowing every which way in the high winds, thinking it would be a great shot. Both of the shirts were whisked away by the gale, high in the sky, and had gone out of view within seconds! If I’d had a movie camera, it would have been impressive.

I took a photo of the end car park, for the Billumski Red Car Regulator, in Ohio, I’ll check that later if I remember. Hehe!

I got back to the computer, forgetting all about making a brew. And looked up the weather on the BBC site.

It also gave a forecast for Nottingham for a few days. Better prepare for probable, prolonged precipitation, perhaps. Puddles and all that? Hehehe!

Ah, well, good news finding the new location of the tags and categories, this has definitely given me a boost, dragged me from the dumps! I dare not, I think I’ve mentioned this already, try to move them back to where I’d like then again, I may lose them altogether.

Oh, yes, this bit of luck has perked me up, supercalifragilisticexpialidociously. But still cannot block out the weariness and fatigue that approached. I’ll get the nosh sorted out, just in case I nod-off unexpectedly. Haha! 

This is the result of my first ‘Eat-Less’ effort meal. Cunningly put on a big tray and spread out, so it looked more significant, no peas, no potatoes, no chips or fries, low-calorie dessert, thin milk roll bread, thinly… I say thinly spread with butter, fish meal! It went down well, a score for the flavour of 7/10!

I put the pots to soak in the bowl. I was soon in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringeworthily-beige-coloured recliner. And, to my great satisfaction, I’d drifted off to sleep without the need of the boring TV to assist me, into the bliss of sleep!

Five minutes or so later, the landline flashed, it was Nurse Hristina, telling me she would be here on Monday, to take my blood, twixt 10:00 > 14:00hrs. The line was crackly, I was half-asleep, but I wrote the times down to add to the calendar in the morning.

I crawled back into the none-working recliner.

I had trouble getting back to sleep, though. No thought-storming, more a vacant space in my mind? Tried putting on the TV, but that didn’t work, turned it off, and thought I’d have a go at the crossword book. A mistake that was, I know now!

I’d got put of the rickety-recliner, got the stick, and made my way to the crossword book… The toe-stubbing I gave myself en route, almost made me cry out on agony! One of my more proficient efforts! Argh! The thoughts of the crosswording dissipated. I grabbed a codeine tablet I’d missed taking earlier from the Ottoman, and lay there for hours, waiting for the pain to subside so I could get back to Sweet Morpheusing!

 

Inchcock – Thurs 20 Aug 2020: Ineffable improvements to today’s activities, with much soliloquizing!

Cool TFZer, at the Tree-Top Cool-It-Cabin

Thursday 20th August 2020

Italiano: Giovedì 20 Agosto 2020 

03:00hrs: I’d given up all hope of any sleep. I felt full of worries, apprehensiveness, and in a state of fearful confusion. The past few days have been a challenge, a fight, a struggle.

Now here I was, ashamed of how I’d handled, or instead coped, with the persistent ongoing, never-ending problems of recent days. Not so long ago, these Whoopsies and Accifauxpas would not have got me down in the manner they do nowadays. I approached my dilemma from another angle. Desperate to find a way of coping betterer. I had a chat with myself; “It’s not long before the end is nigh for you, so why fret over things, Inchy?” That’s as far as I got with the self-discussion, as a desperately urgent need for a wee-wee arrived!

Ever since I got up, the wee-weeing had been frequent, and every one of them was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) style and, free of any PMAD’s Pre Micturition Dribble, and Post-Micturition After Dribble. I’ll try not to mention them too often unless there are any changes in their style or mode.

I went to do the Health Checks, take the medications, and make a brew of Glengettie tea. The BP readings were up a tad, and the thermometer, that has miraculously started working again read 37.3°c. The tablets were taken, and I took the tea to the computer with me.

I pressed on with the updating of yesterday’s post, got it finished, and posted off to WordPress. Went on the Reader section. Then Pinterested some photos. Made another brew of Thompsons Punjabi tea. I could hear creaking noises all around, very strange, I couldn’t fathom what was causing them. The ‘Hum’ seemed weaker this morning. I’d sooner have the Hum than these worrying scrunching noises!

Then the computer mayhem started! I tried to post the links, but Google kept telling me that it cannot save each time I tried to put a contacts address on the Email!

I wasn’t sure if the problem was the internet connection or with Google. Or had I made a mega-cock-up somewhere? This is possible, it has been known in the past, you know! Humph! 

After an hour or so of faffing about and getting nowhere fast, I asked Google if they had any problems. This came up? It didn’t help me. Apart from I now knew the hiccup was with Google Gmail.

I tried to use the M Mail, but it needed so much time and effort to set up, I thought I’d leave it and hope it comes back on later.

I went and got the early ablutions done. A had a few dropsies and a cut or two when shaving, but it was a fairish session. The medicationalisationing was a smidge messy. Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the funiculus were bleeding and stinging somewhat more than usual.

I made a start on this blog for a while, then the Iceland delivery man arrived, and put the bags through the door for me.

I got them into the kitchenette and started to store them away.

I’d bought too much freezer stuff on this order, and struggled to get it all in, but it was no good. The big bag of chips, I can’t recall ordering at all?

I put it down to my funny moment come turn yesterday when I was placing the order.

The fridge was another mystery to me, why had I bought pork pies when I’d sworn not to again? Hehehe!

I made up some black waste bags to go to the chute, a recycling one to go down to the big bin outside, then I put a few frozen things in a carrier to take to Jenny’s flat. She will make sure they go to a deserving cause for me.

I meant to ring Jenny before going, but got all confused and forgot to! I am a Schlub!) Mainly, due to my battle trying to get all the bags fitted, so they stayed on the three-wheel walker guide. Tsk!

Got to the chute room and deposited the black bags. As I was coming out, I thought to myself, ‘I’m doing alright, here.’ Fate! I clouted my right shoulder on the edge of the door! And ever since, (up to now) I have been bothered by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, so much, the whole joint is now aching. Gragglespitness!

 I was going to go down to Jenny’s next, but I felt the need of another wee-wee coming on. My fear of my urge incontinence, made me return to the flat first, and visit the wet room.

Boy, I’m so glad I did – what a wee-wee it was! A BOSASSA (Blasting Out-Spraying-and-Suddenly-Stopping-Abruptly) mode. But I didn’t leave after cleaning up, for I just knew somehow that the MAD (Micturition After-Dribble) was coming. And it did. Smugness-Mode-Grade 3-Temporarily-Adopted!

Back to the lift lobby, and caught the residents lift within seconds of pressing the button. Down to the ground floor and walked through the hall, saying my hello to Doris, who was sat in a chair and looking very fit and satisfied. ♥ Out to the skip, and back in again. When we had a natter, and I took her photograph. We both agreed that the Coronavirus isolationing had ruined our social lives. She kindly didn’t mention my jerking all the time shoulder, bless her. Ah, it’s Francis, not Doris! Sorry, Francis! ♥ Names, as with many other traits, are not my strongest point.

I got up to Jenny’s flat and left the carrier near her front door. 

As I got in the lift up to the flat, someone had been smoking in the cage. Eurgh! 

Back to the flat, and working on the updating again, and Jenny rang me, she’s worked out when she saw the Iceland carrier the things were in, that I’d made another cock-up and run out of room in the freezer again. Hahaha! I think I might rename her Sherlockski-Jenny. Hahaha! She’s made sure that the fodder was used for a good cause, Bless Her!

Sister Jane then rang, the link I’d sent was for the wrong day, Tuesday, not Wednesday! I was having another bad day! But we had a quick natter, and hubby Pete had gone out to town and was doing alright. Great news!

So, after the call and natter, I set about trying to find out what I’d done wrong. I clicked the Wednesday link, and it told me no such address is known! I was going crazy, trying to find out what I’d done wrong! I spent hours, and eventually, but I’m not sure, think I used a different blog name, GerryNottingham, not the usual tgc6244 one, and tried to resend with that one. I don’t know if it worked on Gmail, but eventually, after much anguish and a prayer, I clicked it, and it did connect? I sent the new link off, asking Jane and Pete to let me know if it was the right one. No responses yet, so my depression grew worse.

Pressed on with the diary, and the need for the Porcelain Throne became known. Off to the wet-room zone, alone. My bad poetry comes free! Hahaha!

Chrickus-shock-and-ouch! Another solid, excruciating session! Took ages, the crossword book was utilised. (Oddly, I got a few clues solved in mid-agony?)

I tried to catch-up on the Facebooking before the Firemen arrived. Had to stop, so I could sort things before they arrive. Back in a bit…

The intercom rang out, and two Firefighters seeked entry. Pressed them in, and they were soon at the door. The two chaps came in, and it became obvious to me, I was going to have difficulties in hearing what they said due to the masks they had on.

They were trying to be helpful, and I felt like someone was interested in trying to help. They question me as to what to do in the event of a fire, asked if I’d ever had one, etc. and then moved to support available.

I mentioned that the nurse had asked the falls team to contact me again, told and shown them Metal Mickey (the four=pronged walking stick), that the team had supplied me with on their visit after the stroke. They wanted to report my circumstances to the Falls Team again and explained why this is a good idea. Then asked if I minded if they contacted my Doctor, and Nottingham City Homes, which I agreed to.

The Brain Fog and fatigue started coming on, as is normal for me at this time of day, but with not getting any sleep last night at all, seemed more severe, and it was like turning off my concentration-box. Much of the memories of the last half hour of questions and suggestions went off into the ether.

I recall thanking them, and they said not to go with them to the door, and how odd it felt not doing so. The photographs I must have taken are the main-memory prompters, and I recall feeling a lot better, but a nuisance?

The nosh came out better than ever tonight. I recall being well-pleased with it. On the notepad on the Ottoman, I’d scribbled a tick, and 8/10! Getting to sleep was miraculously smooth this time, I was off within minutes, and that was despite the Though-Storms!

A minute or so into the kip and the landline flashed and rang. It was Jenny, bless her cotton socks. Nora had enjoyed the wine and battered fish she’s prepared for her. Jen was a little disturbed at waking me, but for Jenny, no problem.

I had no bother in getting back to sleep at all.

An hour or so later, and the landline burst into life again. This time it was a struggle, for I was in the deep-sleep mode to get to it in time. It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the new INR Warfarin doses (I’d written all this down on the small notepad). Tonight 2½, and then 2 a night until the next blood test, which is on Monday 24th August. (I found I’d put this in the Google calendar in the morning, but can’t remember doing it, Tsk!)

Sweet Morpheus soon returned, Blissfully!

Inchcock – Wednesday 19th August 2020: A zemblanity filled, sanity testing day. Argh!

Cool TFZers, at the Cool-It-Cabin

Wednesday 19th August 2020

Bulgarian: Сряда, 19 август 2020 г.

03:10hrs: I woke in a bit of a panic today. The need for a wee-wee has never been more urgent! Hehehe! Somehow I managed to get my flabby, obese-bellied, and skinny limbed body, free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy, yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. Got Metal Mickey (four-pronged walking stick), and waddled off to the wet room. Noticed some signs of nocturnal nibbling en route!

 Disappointingly, I cracked the right shoulder against the door frame. Somewhat off-putting, as I had been doing so well in the distance-reading the last two days. Ah, well! The wee-wee was of the JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode, which caught me out a bit. Haha! Cleaned up, and off to the kitchenette. Got the kettle on and had to make back for the wet room smartly, as the sudden bubbling, brewing, and rumbling from the innards kicked off.

 Oh, dear, what a session. Pure pain, lots of blood, but at least it wasn’t messy. Had a go at the crossword-book while waiting for the movement to restart itself, it stopped part-way again! The cistern did not clear the evacuated product and needed assistance from a few jugs of water manually deposited in the Porcelain Throne, and four, I say, four, flushes, and still there were bits of TP not cleared! It’s a challenge these days, going to the toilet! 

Back to the cold tea in the kitchen. (Tsk!) And I got the Health Checks done. The BP figures were reet-grand. The thermometer started working again (it beat me why, too?). A result of 62.4°f, that’s about right as well! Took the medications.

Did some thought-graphics, and made a template up. Then got on with updating the Tuesday blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were behaving, and most pleasingly, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was only giving me short bursts this morning. And with the absence of Saccades Sandra and Shaking Shaun as well, I got the updating done in good time. Got it posted off to WordPress, emailed the link, and answered a comment on WP.

I celebrated with another mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took this picture on the right, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

With the beautiful, nae, voluptuous vampire nurse due, and a possible delivery from Amazon (sleeves of long-life milk – I live well!), I’d better get the ablutions tackled early. Knowing my luck, because I’ve remembered to do this, they will all come late, I suppose. (My confidence, élan, positivism, and decisiveness are at an all-time low, you know! Hey-Ho!) Back in a bit…

I’m back now. And can report a much betterer session today! No shower, too early in the day for that with the noise it makes.

The feet were looking almost normal when I started and signs of bruising from the toe-stubbing. The teeth were cleaned without any hassle or bother.

 The shaving was the problem area, and at the same time, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked in! The result was two neck cuts, a chin nick, and a hard to stop bleeding nip behind the ear hole. I can’t understand why hairs grow behind the ear-holes so much, and none on the head!

The medicationalisationing went even smoother. Mind you, Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding.

I got the unshakeable, ineffaceable feeling that today was going to be full of such strangenesses. Aye, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear, and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; To scare the bejesus out of, annoy, unnerve,  and put the wind up the old energumenist, Inchcock. Yes, they were on their way! My EQ is rarely wrong.

Having completed the ablutions, medicationalisationings and got some clothes on, I got the waste bags made up and onto the trolley with a white bag of recyclables. Then set-off to the waste room in the lift lobby. Got the small bags down to the caretaker’s big bin.

I had a little natter with Robert, and then made my way back to the Woodthorpe Court lobby entrance, taking this rather natty Well, I like it) photograph before entering the building.

I poddled through to the lift lobby and waited for the elevator to arrive. Again, not any folks around whatsoever to have a natter with. Shame that! The resident’s lift came straight away. Into the cage, I popped and pressed the 12th-floor’s button.

Regretfully, then Peripheral Pete launched one of his involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler right leg dance routines, and I fell forward over the trolley-guide. I caught the Alarm button as I put my hand out to stop going all the way down.

The button flashed, and I thought, “I’m in trouble now!” But, nothing happened, no sounding bells or klaxons, nothing happened. Which was lucky for me, I thought! The Schuplatter dance lasted only a few seconds, and apart from the Osteoarthritis in the little finger, or whatever it is, no injuries. * This reminded me, the Doctor in the stroke ward, said she’d arrange a visit for me with a rheumatologist. Still, with the flipping Coronavirus bother, it’ll have to wait, I suppose.

Come think of it, I might be confused over this, it could have been a Cardiologist, Nephrologist, Geriatric Phycologist, Vascular Phycologist, or even a Psychological Neurologist? Hahaha! 

 I got out of the elevator and got into the flat. As I was putting the three-wheeler in the corner of the mini-hallway – I got such a shock! The fire alarm in the flat, burst into life! Klaxon blaring, red light flashing – Oh, heck! My head was about three feet away from the blaring Klaxon!

No panicking, though. Well, maybe a tiny bit! Humph! I checked each room and cupboard, no signs of any fire. I then rang Deana to let her know, Deana said the alarm had not activated on her panel? Comforting to know that!

Deana arrived at the flat. The gal was very relaxed and calm about things, which was more than I was, I had a sense that I had done something wrong, yet I knew that I hadn’t. Shortly, there were three fire-tenders on site!

Deana went out to greet the emergency services. A fireman appeared with Deana. The fireman wanted to know what precisely I had been doing. So I told him; I’d got back in the flat from taking the waste down to the rubbish bin, put the walker in the corner, and the fire alarm activated. He suggested I have a visit from the team to offer support on avoiding fires. Fair enough, I said, although I have never had a fire in my life.

He reset the alarm and then poddled off. I got the podded peas into the saucepan, all ready to cook later on. Very lovely, they tasted raw, as well! Not many left for the nosh now, and I found some from yesterday’s podding session. Haha! 

Then, Nurse Hristina arrived. Patiently listened to my tale of woe with the alarm as she took the blood. She was in a rush but remained friendly and kind to me.

I began to update the blog again, and the landline burst forth and flashed. It was the Fire Brigade; they will be calling on me tomorrow, around 14:30hrs.

I went back to updating this blog. Then, and guess what?

This crap service from Mr Fries makes me sick! But, I was warned of bother coming today, by my EQ!

I got the oven on and some battered fish cooking. I got the garden pea’s saucepan, on a low heat setting.

Internet back on, but deadly slow, now!

Then the door chimes rang out. I said it was going to be a busy day! Humph! It was milk sleeves arriving. I opened the door, and they were on the door frame outside. I got them opened and put some in the fridge. There was a good shelf life on them!

At last, something had gone right! Hurrah!

The fodder was about cooked, so I turned everything off, it was close to my regular head down-time anyway. I got the nosh served up. A jolly decent flavour-rating of 8/10 fish nosh. I washed the pots and got a bottle of spring water, and in the recliner, sleep searching.

There followed a series of botherations, that encapsulated Sweet Morpheus attempts, ideally;

: A landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! 

: Ten minutes later, a landline call: TheDoctors surgery with the results and new Warafrin INR doses: Tonight 2.5, then 2 nightly until Monday 24th August, the next Blood Test date. Scribbled details on the note pad. I got back in the c1968 recliner, well tired.

: Another landline call: “I’m from BT, it has been noticed that…” I said nothing when I picked up the handset, recorded talking in the background. Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! 

: Half-an-hour or so later, yet another landline call: “I’m from Visa, there has been a £4000 transaction on you… Auto recording. Rang-off, and got back in the c1968 recliner, well-miffed! I scribbled down notes on each call on the pad.

The Thought-Storms began, and I was so annoyed at these damned con-calls! The last time when I did some searching, the number was registered in London, a further search on the web, revealed those I had then, were from Nigeria and Albania.

It took me hours to get the mind free enough to almost nod off, and the landline burst forth and flashed again! I ignored it.

No chance of sleep now, I put on the TV and headphones.

– A tired, almost angry, frustrated and bewildered Inchcock, gave up and decided to get on the computer. The very moment I attempted to shuffle my short-plump, overweight podgy body from the £300, second-hand recliner… Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, and Colin Cramps joined in on my legs and feet!

So I acquired some new bruises, crawled back into the rickety recliner, and sort of sulked and felt sorry for myself! But the Thought-Storms, fears, frustrations, and events of this wickedly tormenting day, flowed. 03:00hrs, I got up for a wee-wee, and stayed up!

Sleep? What’s that then?

Inchcock – Tuesday 18th August 2020: Worra Day!

Tuesday 18th August 2020

Afrikaans: Dinsdag 18 Augustus 2020

04:15hrs: The moment I woke up, the memories of the ‘dodgy’ phone call from last night flooded back. I laid and stewed thinking about it, wondering what to do about it. Thankfully, the need of a wee-wee arose, breaking my train of thoughts. I disentangled my grossly big and wobbly-bellied body from the c1968 recliner. Got Metal Mickey the four-pronged walking stick) and off to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and took an RSP (Reluctant-Sprinkly-Painful) type, wee-wee.

I spotted signs of nocturnal nibbling, Guilt-Mode-Engaged!

No demand for the Porcelain Throne, that was a rarity.

Took the bucket and cleaned and sanitised it, washed the hands and off to the kitchen for the important stuff, a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea.

Took a photo of the morning view, and set about getting the Health Checks sorted.

The sphygmomanometer readings were a little better today, the SYS was down a fair bit, I’m glad to report.

I nearly injected a hypo of Enoxaparin. I stopped myself in time, and wondered how I could have thought to do this in the first place? Still, if one didn’t recognise that you make mistakes, you’d never know the difference between confidence and ability! Too many people in my life have shown over-confidence and conceitedness to con their way up the ladder – but with a minimum of ability. Just thought I’d mention it, like! But when I was last made redundant, the chap they kept on, was caught stealing from them a month or two later. Hehehe!

I got on with updating the Monday blog and despite the occasional attacks from Shaking Shaun, did it in a reasonable time. Pinterested some photos, went on the WordPress Reader.

Jenny called me on the landline and put me into a more stable frame of mind.  When she told me that she had had similar phonecalls, and they would all be cons! Bless her!

I had an updating session on Facebook, then time approached for me to get the ablutions done. And what a mixed bag of a session this one was! 

ABLUTIONALISATIONALISTICISATIONING REPORT:

  •  I got through the doorway, without any walking into, banging into, knocking over anything, or losing my balance! Smug-Mode-Partially-Adopted!
  •  Then stubbed my toes against the enamel on the sink riser!
  • Cleaning the teeth went almost painlessly, and with only two dropsies!
  • Bit of a disappointment in the shaving department, five dropsies, and four cuts, but not serious ones. The cartilage in the fingers, mostly to blame.
  • The showering went well, only three-dropsies! The showerhead (which did not land on my toes this time!), and the shower gel bottler (2). 
  • The towelling drying off had a couple of close calls, I almost had the things off of the floor cabinet twice, but somehow they rattled together, some fell, but nothing fell on the floor! Great!
  • The medicationalisationing was a lengthy grind today. I’ a smidge worried about using so much of the Phorpain Gel, considering the new warning notes in the boxes, about folks having their body parts burst into flame when they were too close to a heat source. (Not joking!)
  • I had no option but to use the gel on the usual areas, knees, right ankle, wrists and shoulders. But today, the cartilage in the fingers was worse than they’ve ever been, so I gave the fingers on the right hand a good dubbing. I just hope that any visitors today, are not smoking. Hahaha!
  • The furuncles had to be ointmentated, very carefully, to avoid any of the Chlorhexidine cream getting on to Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and conversely, with the Germoloid Cream! Fiddly work! I should have been a Doctor you know. Hahaha!
  • Oiled the ear canals, sprayed eyes for Saccades, and  Chlorhexidine creamed the bruises, with no bother.
  • A bit of a challenge in getting down to the ankle ulcer and Oedema creams. But the long picker-upper and some ingenuity on my part, although I made a right mess of doing it, meant it was easy enough, if complicated. Haha!
  • However, I was in two minds whether it needed doing (the ulcer), cause it looked like it was virtually cleared up now, compared to yesterday? Almost just freckles showing? Although it was still stinging a bit. All confusing!
  • Then, the most painful I’d left until last. (Coward! Tsk!) Little Inchies fungal lesion, applying the Fluconazole hydrocortisone cream was done. It didn’t bother me at all!

Abltionalisationing Advice available, to other multi-ailment sufferers. At cheap rates!

Got the PPs and trousers on, and off to the kitchen to make a brew of Morrison’s Extra Strong Assam Tea!

Stroke of bad luck as I was putting the milk back into the fridge. The damn right leg suddenly went into an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance routine! I didn’t go over mind, I grabbed at the fridge door for balance; which caused all of the things, aluminium cooking tray, foils dishes etc. to tumble from the refrigerator top!  Grigglebogsblowit! I spent a long time, trying to reshape some of the trays, and get them back up again. The lost amazing thing about the incident is not the bruise I got on my left leg, how I avoided going over, or my not dropping the milk, but the flaming noise they made! Hehehe! I bet Herbert heard it!

I made another brew of Glengettie Gold this time, to replace the Assam brew that had gone cold as I cleared up the mess. And gingerly got the milk out of the cooler, and even more carefully, put it back!

Herbert started to bang and knock from above! Whether it was due to my noisy calamity, I have no idea.

I took a shot through the balcony window.

At long last, I started to create this blog. And the landline burst forth and flashed again. It was my Brother-in-law, flat breaker, Cancer suffering, going bald after his Chemo, Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propred, Pete.

We had a jolly good natter. Poor lad, his hair is coming out faster after his third session in the nuclear chemotherapy-pump. But he says he enjoyed talking to others in the same boat at the hospital. Last night the bloke woke up feeling sick, and he was. I think this is not a bad thing, as the bodies natural defences are telling him they want to rid the innards of some sort of danger. Easy for me to say, I know, but I believe this.

Pete’s always been a bit of Charles Atlas type, fit, rarely been ill with it (Makes me sick! Hehe, only joking, Pete!) So it’s only natural he’s going to struggle to cope with this cancer. Mind you, he did once fall asleep on the arm of the setee, fell off and broke his neck! Not a lot of people can say that! Hahaha!

Pete mentioned my blog message about the phoney phone call I got, from someone claiming to be from Visa. He also thinks it was a con-job.

We managed to have a laugh between ourselves, said our farewells, and I went to make yet another brew, this time of Glengettie. The tea had gone cold again. Tsk!

Got some Comments answered. Well, the comment, answered. Then did some more updating of this post.

Still no signs of any Porcelain Throne requirements?

I went to make another mug of tea, Glengettie Gold. (I’ve a thirst on today?)

Went out in the balcony and took these three pictures of the parked cars along Chestnut Walk. Not many spaces available, I can’t see any, in fact?

Hello, Herbert’s giving me some more tip-tap knocking again. I wonder what he’s making this time?

The weather is looking a bit threatening. Might be storm clouds, but they are fast-moving in an Easterly direction.

By the time they turn to rain, the clouds might have moved to Skegness. Haha!

Christ! Herbert’s banging and thudding away again now!

I’ll get some garden peas shelled methinks. Perhaps have a fishcake sarnie, peas and tomatoes later? Or not. A rough estimate of peas loss: 20 – Found or retrieved: 8. Humph!

Hell, Herbert! Give us a (swear word removed) rest from the banging and tap-tapping will yer! 

I’ll get the meal prepped. Wholemeal bread thins, buttered and filled with tomatoes with a bit of onion salt. Surimi sticks, red potato-fritters, and fresh garden peas. A mini apple pie and lemon yoghourt.

Taste Rating: 6/10.

I  did the washing up, then for once, I eagerly got down in the recliner to watch some TV. The cause of this avidity was I could get the headphones on, thus not have to listen to Herbert’s tap-tap, clunking! I realised that getting to sleep was not going to be an option.

Within a few minutes, the landline flashed. It was the delightful Vampire Nurse Hristina, telling me she would be arriving to take my blood in the morning, twixt 10:00>11:00hrs in the morning. I thanked her and got settled down again.

An episode of Law & Order was starting. Then a summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. No rest for Inchy tonight! Krickus!

What a bloody affair it was! Much cleaning and medicationalisationing required. Cribblebogangonies! 

I got settled down again. Praying for some rest, anything so precious as sleep would be a sweet bonus.

Ten minutes or so later, I could hardly believe it, the landline lit up and flashed again! It was the QMC’s Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic. The kind lady told me to take 2½ Warfarin tonight, and a blood test will be arranged for tomorrow. (I was getting a little confused and muddleheaded!) I thanked her and then pondered a while.

I’d taken 2 Warfarin already, so went to get a half a tablet to take. But, foolishly ended up taking the whole 2½ that she’s mentioned. Thus, I’ve have taken 4½ Warfarin now (I think?). Gragnankles! 

Back to the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, sickeningly beige-coloured, recliner again. (The exercise will do me some good perhaps? Haha!)

Wrote some notes on the pad to remind me of evenings farce for this diary. Then turned off the TV, and with hopes of sleep, I covered my head and eyes with the thin quilt and then waited for Sweet Morpheus to arrive…

An hour later, having not being able to stop the Thought-Storming, I thought that turning the TV back on might help me get asleep. Ha!

I needed a wee-wee. Struggled out of the rickety recliner again, and to the wet room. Getting back, I gave myself as good a toe-stubbing as possible on the corner of the Ottoman. Granglespithowlations! 

A sort of evening (and day really!) that I could have done without!

And to think, a nearby neighbour, in Brookfield Place, two-up two-down terrace housing, right next to the railway viaduct in the Meadows area of Nottingham, nearly seventy years ago, a grand chap called Mr Wright, always used to address me as, ‘Lucky!’

If I’d known then, wot I know now… Hehehe!

Inchcocksi – Tuesday 28th July 2020:

TFZer Keeping at a Social Distance

Yee-ha!

Tuesday 28th July 2020

Maori: Rātū 28 Hōngongoi 2020

03:00hrs: Within minutes of waking up, I’d ignored the nagging worry of something, whatever it was, I knew I had to remember this morning (Tsk!), had clambered out of £300, second-hand, c1968, none-operational, rusty, rickety, uncomfortable recliner, caught my balance, and with the aid of the four-pronged walking stick, I found myself in the kitchen. with the window open, with camera in hand, taking photographs out of the window of the morning views!

Nowt outstanding in this, I know. But I had to guess the getting up procedure I’d just done, due to a memory-blank. I really could not recall doing anything up to this point. The ailments are starting early this morning?

I went to get the kettle on, but it already was on. (Oh dearie me! – Hey-ho!) Then I got the sphygmomanometer and took the blood pressure and pulse. All the figures looked good enough for me. I used the stick thermometer, and it showed a figure today, of 84.4°, which I also think is good. The inner body seems to be doing okay, now if I can control the mind as well, there still may be hope for me. Hehehe!

As I began to download the photos from the SDCH card, the belated demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. No messing about, I hobbled-hastily to the wet-room. But the solidity of evacuation prevented any movement, despite my having a go at the crossword while waiting and hoping for some activity.

So, off I limped to the kitchenette and partook in a mug of Macrogol in warm water. Then back to the computer, and started to download the pictures of my trip-around-Nottingham, to the computer. There were a few of them to sort out and remember about.

And, guess what? Yes! Down went the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet site! I did a Google search for any current problems and found this. Not the sarky first graphic, I made that up myself, Humph!

If Virgin, along with British Gas, would allow me to leave them, I would! But they get away with lying and giving wrong or dead links to use for this! The Swine! 

A beautiful morning, though!

I left the computer alone, as I got another call to the throne, so I went off to the wet-room zone, alone! (The poetry comes free, folks, Hehehe!)

By Jiminy, that Macrogol works quickly!

The legs looked fine this morning!

A bigger than a normal dollop of an evacuation started, along with the agony, bleeding and a little cursing on my behalf! A few words invented as well, like… ‘Eeerogleardamn’ and ‘Ooo, oo, argh!’ An awful lot of cleaning up and medicationalisationing was needed. Glunglegnatsworth!

 I got back to updating again when the internet returned. Then went on Facebooking.

Guess what? My viewing figures on WordPress, have dwindled suddenly? From 120, down to 58, and now 7? I’m worried if I’ve done summat wrong?

I finished and posted off the Monday blog (7 views only? I’m losing heart here!) Then went on the WP Reader section.

Humph! Then. the net disappeared again! 

This time for only a few minutes, though. Thank you, Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet!

Disheartened, I went to check on the mushrooms in the crock-pot. As you can see in the blurred photograph, I had to jump back as the steam came flying out!

That’ll teach me to be more careful! Haha!

My Brother-inLaw, Pete, who had his first treatment for the Big-C, yesterday, sent me a photo of the gear he got sent home with! Cor, Blimus! I replied, making him a belated Honourary Member of the ‘Official Medicationalisticalised Pill-popping Person’s  Association’. Well, it made him larf he said! Hehe!

My beloved Nurse Hristina arrived as I was cleaning the electric fire-front. She was obviously in a bit of a rush, but found time to give me a few minutes nattering session, which I appreciated no-end! I told her of the Podiatrist farce, but not complainingly. She offered to move the crunched-up carpet for me when she noticed I got a bit entangled in it with the stick, but I thanked her and declined. And sadly had to let her go, cause I could that she needed to, a busy gal! ♥

When I got back on the computer, Tsk!

I decided to do a Google check on the other internet suppliers as well.

I was suspicious when I saw a similar pattern to each one? It seems to me, to be one of the biggest cons since decimalisation! I assume the red dotted line, indicates the average speed, or complaints, for the given time? Liberty-Global, being the lowest?

I took a shot of the end car park on Chestnut Walk, from the balcony. I wouldn’t risk injury by trying to open the lethal metal spring clip, that needs pressing and pulling at the same time to use. (A fitter actually trapped his finger on in last March! Honest!) So I hung out of one of the front windows as far as I dare. Mainly to get the photo of four read vehicles for my cyber-mate Billum Ziegler, in Ohio, I think. Hehe!

I made up some waste bags to go to the chute, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea… and had to shoot back off to the Porcelain Throne, in a panicky rush!

How embarrassing, I didn’t get there in time! I felt so ashamed, guilty, and angry with myself! I blamed myself as well, I shouldn’t have taken the Macrogol so hastily. Still, it proves that it works. After a lengthy cleaning up session and medicationalisationing, I was a different person when I got back to the computer. The enthusiasm had gone. Whatever I’d done wrong to get so few views, and now this Porcelain Throne stigma and disaster had got to me. 

Then I heard what sounded like a car horn being pressed angrily, it sounds like it was right in the room, to my left? Was it the alert alarm box, the light on it had gone off? Someone outside on the road, I looked outside from the balcony, but could see nothing untoward? Checked that the landline was still working, that was fine? on it. The Virgin box still had lights lit on it?… Then I heard what sounded like someone breathing out and it was loud? It came from the area where the alarm, Virgin box and telephone were situated? Gawd, I’m all confused again!

I got back to the waste-bag sorting and loaded the three-wheeler up, it couldn’t take any more bags. Hehe!

The wind was getting up as I waited patiently for a lift to arrive. Then I realised I’d left the camera in the hallway. So I nipped back into the flat to collect it from the radiator where I’d left it.

When I got back out to the lift lobby, I’d missed the elevator. So waited patiently for the tenants lift to arrive. The constructor-only lift came three times, and I had to send it back up, to get the tenants one to come to me. Ah, well, at least I got down, eventually.

I hobbled out of the lobby, to the waste bin. And as the recycling bags were smaller than normal, I coped with getting them in the small opening. I went into Smug-Mode! But not for long, when I realised I had not dropped the two black down the waste chute, so I’ll take them back up with me, on the way back and deposit them down the chute.

I waddled along Chestnut Walk, taking some photos, and popped into the new Winwood Extra Care Court.

Where the Wardens Holding Cells, Interrogation room, and office are located. To see Laptop Model, Warden Deana. There was no one in the office.

Not that it mattered.  I’d forgotten why I was calling in the first place. Thundeclumphead, that’s me!

I also suffer, with Ethonomia you know! Hahaha!

Another picture was taken on the way back. I did notice that the string wind seemed to be only around my Woodthorpe Court area?

I went in through the Caretakers door, and unfortunately, bothered Caretaker Robert, who was having his nosh! But he was alright about it. He took the black bags from, bless him. We had a mini-natter, and I told him about the NHS only treating people, well the NHS Podiatrists, with bad circulation in their feet. I said my farewells and went out to the ground floor lift lobby.

Another long wait. Several folks were in front of me in the queue. The tenant’s lift was moving twixt the 9th and thirteenth floors for ages! Then I spotted a note on the board, about a window cleaner who was calling on at Woodthorpe Court, on Thursday 6th August. We had to put out names and flat numbers on the form if we wanted him to call on us.

I nipped back and pestered Robert again, to loan, or should or borrow a pen so I could sign up? Signed, and took the pen back to the caretaker.

By the time I made it back to the elevators, two new tenants were there. The tenant and a construction worker got in the same residents lift together. Then it was my turn for the next free lift.

You wouldn’t believe how long I had to wait. The tenants lift again started going twixt the 9th and 14th floor, repeatedly. While I waited, the Constructor only cage came down to the ground floor about three times. Very confusing? Still, it was interesting!

I got inside the flat, stored the three-wheeler in the hallway, and got the kettle on (first things first!), made a brew of Glengettie. While I was in the kitchen, I eventually heard the landline ringing, I got to it as fast as I could, but missed it. Back to making the brew, and it happened again, and I was too late getting to it again!

I rang to see if it was Jenny, but no. She remembered the 1471 number, I thanked her, and tried it. The number ringing was 07786……. I tried to find who it was on Google. All I got as ‘Do not ring back: this is possible a scam or con! So I didn’t!

I had a moment or two of ponderisationing. The Morrison order is coming late today, 17:00 > 18:00hrs. And as I unslept the computer, an email came in from Morrisons, they do not have any egg mayonnaise! I let Jenny know that the flour would be here and roughly when. She asked me to phone her when it arrives, and she will nip up to collect it.

Well, no egg mayonnaise! Tsk! I’ll do an Iceland order methinks, and get some, also add eggs so when Jenny explains to me how to, I can make my own.

Done it!

I noticed the sky was so beautiful, I risked life and limb by taking a shot of it from outside the balcony window. But realised when it came to putting it on here, it was not so good as I thought it would be. Red-eye and I caught the window edge on it! Oh, well!

The egg-Mayonnaiseless Morrison order could be arriving anytime now.

I’m getting tired and have a feeling, I’ve forgotten something? Mmm!

When the food order comes, I’ve got to call Jenny, hello, she’s just sent me an email! I’ll investigate it. Haha!

Must stay awake, not nod-off, but the eyelids are getting heavy.

To tired to concentrate now, I might turn off Computer Cameron for a bit, or longer.

Oh, I’ve got some diabetic socks coming tomorrow, the longer ones. Of course, it’s been that long since I’ve worn any, it might be amusing using and injuring myself with the sock-glide again. Oh, yes!

Aha, the latest Coronavirus updates just come through. A little concerning,

Today: Additional cases on Tuesday 28 July 2020: 581.
The total number of COVID-19 associated UK deaths 45,878.
Deaths of people who have had a positive test result: 119 Additional deaths on Tuesday 28 July 2020.
Fighting off the fatigue, and I’ve got the nosh to do yet. Poor old thing! Hahaha! Can’t be long now, it’s ten minutes to the end of the hour for the delivery?
Then it dawned on me, as the hour of the delivery passed with nothing arrived yet. The call might have been from the driver to say he’d be late for some reason? But the magic red-letter warning from the Google inquiry, prevented me being brave enough to try ringing it. Oh, dearie me! 
Then I thought, oh, dearie me, (I do that a lot, you’ve noticed, I bet?) and wondered if he’s left the stuff outside the door? I went to check. Nope!
Gone 18:30hrs now! I phoned Jenny to let her know and explained the possible cock-up!
After I’d taken these shots across the sky, from left to right, from the kitchen window, and the glom got me down even more. I sat down to put then on here, and the late sun burst through?
I was battling against falling asleep still, and it was a right struggle-and-a-half, I feel the need to tell you!
The sun, shone through the balcony windows, and when I picked up the Nikon to put the SDH card back in it, it was so hot, I nearly dropped the camera! I had to close the blinds.
An hour and a half later, the Morrison delivery arrived. It was the driver who was ringing me earlier. Jenny and Frank, bless ”em came to help me sort the stuff out, I handed the flour over while they were up in the flat. ♥♥♥
I am now going to get meal cooked and will take the tale up again on the Wednesday post, cause I’m shattered
Food and sleep, seem my greatest needs, at the moment! Hehehe!.

Inchcocksi – Wednesday 15th July 2020: Chinwagged with Penny & Francis today. Yee-Ha!

Wednesday 15th July 2020

Samoan: Aso Lulu 15 Iulai 2020

3:30hrs: Woke ready for a wee-wee, wriggled out of the recliner, wobbled to the wet-room, and yet again, and needing the Porcelain Throne just as I got inside the room! It’s been like this for several mornings, I think.

I was well pleased with the evacuation. Terribly pongy, but so much less painful and messy.  Could this turn out to be a better day for me? I had a decent day on Saturday, August 28th, 1959, as far as I can recall. Hehehe!

I collected the overnight emergency bucket on the way to the kitchen, it had hardly been used. Got it cleaned and sanitised, made a brew of Extra Strong Assam tea, and took the blood pressure on the machine.

Creeping up a bit, the SYS again. My body temperature was showing as just ‘Low’.

The view, as seen through my eyes, was so beautiful this morning. But it didn’t transfer to the camera picture so well. Humph! I didn’t notice at the time, but I must have moved the selector on the Canon camera, and it came out a different size and shape? I wish I knew why? Hehe!

I got the tablets out, and shock of shocks! The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, had kept up there letting me down routine again. They had started to put the Furesomide in the pots. This after the nurse phoned them and explained my problem with this. As when they do, I have three tablets that all look alike, and get confused. The Furesomide are on an as-needed dosage. The Beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate) and Codeine 60g all look the same to me. They said they would leave the Furesomide out of the pots and send a packet. Which, after two months they got around to doing, now they have gone back to causing me more worry, by bunging them all together with the other tablets! They really must hate me! 

My Xyrophobia suffering, over-amour propred Brother-in-law Pete, when he was searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, and he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist playing with the electrics of the recliner. Out came his screwdriver, that he’d used to open my cash drawer with. Now the recliner no longer works… Where was I? Oh, yes! He sent an email with a photo of what the Hospital gave him after his pet scan yesterday. Here it is:

I had to laugh! I made this graphicalisation later for the lad. Hope it cheers him up! Hahaha!

I made a start of getting the pictures loaded into the computer, and updating yesterdays blog. With Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley being active, and Anne Gyna stinging away on her tour through my too titanic-sized torso, it was a bit of a grind. At one point, when Saccades Sandra joined in giving me grief, I’m sure I was doing more correcting than typing. Frangleklops!

I stuck at it, like the hero, and good-little-lad I am, and about three hours later, I’d got it finished and posted off to WordPress.

I hastened to get the ablutions tended to (no shower, too early in the day), so I can be ready, in case the Iceland order arrives earlier.

Yet again, as I entered the wet room, I suddenly needed another Porcelain Throne usage! Getting a bit too regular this is! However, this effort was even betterer than the first one! A bit messier maybe, but less painful by a mile!

The flushing had to be done several times, though. And some hand filling of the tank with water from the sink. Schluberduberski!

The very gentle teeth cleaning was not too bad on Toothache Thomas this time.

The shaving had just two tiny cuts. Countless dropsies of the razors, it seemed like they had a life all of their own today! Tsk!

The medicating (I’ll not go into detail here, it was bloody and messy), was one of the worst sessions for weeks. I left the wet room, with stinging from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Furuncular Franks boils. And Little Inchies fungal lesion was plain agony!

I got sprayed and after-shaved etc. and dressed, and off to the kitchenette to make a brew and take an extra painkiller, cause the lower regions were a bit tender.

Got on the computer, and a half-hour later, the intercom burst into life. It was my Iceland delivery arriving. The young man put the bags through the door for me as I stood back away, social distancing, you know!

And fell over the bloody three-wheeler trolley! I had to stop the man from kindly coming in to get me back up. Best to keep a distance. I told him he could catch anything from me, let alone Coronavirus. Hehehe! He did larf! He waited until I’d clawed my way back onto my feet before leaving. Bless him. Gave him a G&T in thanks.

I took the bags through to the kitchen and unloaded them. For once, there was a printed shopping list with the food, so I checked things were all there. Spot on! Got the fridge filled, although not as full as last week, cause I been using up some tinned stuff lately.

I’d treated my self to a box of Chinese Style belly pork slices. They are not cheap, but I think these were the one I tried the week before last, and I recall putting some Hoisin sauce on them before cooking, I intend to try again today.

I’d got some of the so-called (imitation) Jersey Royal potatoes in the slow cooker straight away. They were far too large, I got six potatoes only in the bag. (Two of them were mouldy!)

I’d ordered some green and red seedless grapes (I assume), which was a bit silly of me because they do not keep long. I’d had alternate for a few weeks, one red then one green. Egyptian they are, not bad at all, but soon shrivel up. I meant to ask Jenny if she liked them, so she could have whichever one the gal fancies, but when she called later, with a bottle of antiseptic disinfectant for me, Bless her cotton socks! And I forgot to ask her what a plod! I’ll try to remember to phone her later.

Blow it, I’ll phone the gal now. Yep, Jenny likes the grapes! I’ll take them down later.

I made some updating to this blog. Checked the potatoes, but they were so large, they were nowhere near cooked yet. Then I got the black bags sorted, and took the grapes down for Jenny and Frank, and the glass jars for recycling down to the bin outside. I hope the lift doesn’t mean I’ll be back late, I’m never confident with leaving things cooking, even in the crock-pot.

Back in a bit, I’ll take the camera with me.

Well, that was a struggle, but well worth the effort. I took the black bags to the chute first, when I eventually got the trolley out of the flat door. The bruised knuckles are all part of the everyday life in these flats. Hehe!

A decorators stand-thing was in the way of the chute-room door, gave me a bit of bother passing and to get around, but I did alright, no accifauxpas! Then I had to wait a good while for the residents lift. Down to Jenny’s floor, left the bag near her door and pressed the bell button. Back to the lift lobby, and another little wait to get down to the ground floor. I heard a voice shout out, that I assumed was Jenny, and shouted back my greetings.

Got down on the ground floor, and steadily made my way out, and round to the recycling bin. It had been emptied. I had a minute natter with the caretaker, which cheered me up, having a laugh.

I made my way back in through the lobby doors, and Penny saw me coming and opened them from inside for me. It was such a pleasure to talk to someone and have a bit of fun.

I took a snap or two, of the Art Decor styling of the lobby. Haha!

Gossiping with Penny, and Francis joined us, and we all had a giggle between us. Perked me right up that did!

I took a snap of Penny and Francis near the laundry room door. Beautiful gals!

I got back up to the flat in no time, mainly because Francis told me to get in the lift first. ♥

Got in the flat, a cheerier person than I was when I left it!

The INR result form had arrived while I was out. 2.3 it read for the level. I checked on the potatoes, still not cooked, but they were coming on.

Updated this blog again, then went on Facebooking.

Then on CorelDraw to get some graphics done. Well, got one done! Humphski! Then closed everything down.

I got the fodder prepared.

The big Jersey new potatoes from Iceland left after removing the bad ones from the bag earlier, left me with a more than adequate four. Along with some horrible so-called Iceland ‘De-luxe tomatoes’, which also had to be carefully selected as I threw away the mouldy, soft, and going black fruits away! Humph! Then added some gherkins, canned garden peas, beetroot, onions, and the much anticipated Chinese style belly pork, cooked with some Hoisin sauce spread on them. For afters, some Iceland brand, Egyptian red seedless grapes – again, throwing away some mouldy ones first! Tsk!

And two buttered Devon Scones from the Iceland order. These scones are deserving of individual attention and note: As a warning to others who may be tempted to buy any.

“Inchcock’s Sconal Warning!”

Iceland sending tomatoes and potatoes that were below standard, mouldy, and had to be sorted through to remove the bad ones before eating, is nothing new. It’s all part of their usual service. So, not worth going into, it happens almost every order I have delivered.

But these Devon Scones, the first, and last time I try these. Hard, dry, and despite my overloading them with Lurpak butter spread on them, were dangerous! If I’d dropped one and it landed on my foot, it would probably have broken a toe! Hehehe!

The meal was given a taste-rating of 5/10 only. The tomatoes, scones and slow-cooked for eight-hours and still not done enough, large Jersey potatoes, kept the score down. The Chinese style belly pork, were greatly flavoursome, though.

As for what happened after I’d washed and got settled, and the Thought-Storms were followed by the dizzies; it’s all a mystery to me. Just a blank-spot in my memory,  (I think)

But I do remember waking up, so that was good!

 

Inchcock Today – Frid 6 Mar 2020: Plans seemed to get snafued today!

Friday 6th March 2020

Telugu: శుక్రవారం 6 మార్చి 2020

01:30hrs: I woke worryingly wanting a wee-wee. Wrestled myself free of the £300 second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not-working, recliner. Got the walking stick, no time to get my balance correctly this morning, so urgent was the needs of the bladder! I made for the GPWWB (Grey-Plastic-Wee-Wee-Bucket). And got a bit of a shock when the release began flowing; First, the colour was virtually transparent, these came like this for hours afterwards, likely on average about four an hour!

To the kitchen, via various obstacles in my path. Yes, I think I must have been doing some nocturnal-wanderings? DVD’s had fallen or been taken off of the case, and were scattered around on the floor. The Ottoman had had many items knocked off of it; Bottle of spring water, olive-oil bottle, a tube of Germolene cream and a suspicious empty Marmite Crisps bag. The airer was partly tipped over, leaning against the recliner back.

Had I also been on a Nocturnal-nibbling rampage? I know that the night before last, I didn’t have a meal at all, and yesterevening, with the TV problems and my allowing the food to go cold, I didn’t eat much, but surely I wouldn’t nibble crisps? Not in my new determined-to-lose-weight and some stomach-flab mode? As I got the picker-upper to retrieve the items, I feared what I might find in the kitchen. Tentatively, I hobbled into the kitchen and had a look around. All seemed the same as I left it? No signs of raided fridge or cupboards, crumbs or food preparationings. Phew! 

I got the kettle on, took the medications and found that I had not taken last nights! Grrr! Idiot! So I took them and left the morning ones until later. Made a brew of Glenghettie Gold tea, and another wee-wee. (Let’s take it that I kept on with SSP wee-wees for the nest four, no six hours!) All this use of Little Inchie had caused me to fear that the Fungal Lesion might start bleeding, but no! Great!

I got the computer on, Hogwashniggles, harrumph and Globdogerisations! Instant hatred for Mr (Tosspot) Fries, and stabbing pains from Duodenal Donald!

I checked on Google to see if any problems, or rather, what the problems were!

The lying swine at Liberty-Global said on the site in reply to the many pissed-off Nottinghamian customers, My additions in deep red:

 

Then I went on Virgin’s web-site Service Problems site and got the above message. Please note, how can we idiot customers expect a half-decent service, from a company that employs people who cannot event spell Virgin correctly (First word of message = Virin!) Liberty-Global, who own it, are an incompetent, uncaring, pecuniary-mad, lying company.

By gum, I feel better for that!

I tried the resetting, then turned everything off the on again. Sender turned off, on, and rebooted again. Eventually, I got a connection of sorts, very unsteady. It still kept on going down repeatedly for hours, for periods of a few seconds to five-minutes, Eurgh!

This caused, what ought to have been at maximum, a couple of hours work to get the blog updated, to turn into a marathon of six-hours! Thank you, Mr Steven (I couldn’t give a toss – I get paid millions of dollars salary) Fries. 

The internet got to stop going off-line. No, honestly! It was still slow, mind!

I put some pictures on Pinterest. Made a brew of Glenghettie, wee-wee’d, and went on the TFZer Facebooking. Then updating the post. Started this one going.

Time to get the ablutionalisationing done. Worra session it was! Can’t grasp it yet how it went. Dropsies, so few. One cut shaving. No shelve clearing, toe-stubbing or knocks. Even the sock-glide battle was a victory! And, as for the pins (legs), apart from the hairs suddenly going invisible, they looked like any ordinary person’s pins, they even had more colour this morning!

Got ready for going out to get the fresh vegetables from Sainsbury’s. Dropped off some no-longer-needed sugary-foods at the ILC’s office, only the one of the three in today, I found out later.

Coming out of the office, Dizzy Dennis dawned. Can’t remember a sausage until I was on the bus going to Arnold, with the crossword book in my hand. And two bus stops away from the store! Put away the book, alighted thanking the driver, and into the shop’s car park through to the entrance. The sunshine had actually got a little warmth in it!

I was fully with-it, well, my faculties were returning. No aches or pains apart from the usual Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley (A bit embarrassing and funny-looks-attracting from customers and staff members in the store, Humph!), Arthur Itis, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure, and Duodenal Donald. I was free of the attentions of Reflux Roger, Anne Gyna, Hernia Harry, Saccades Sandra, Stuttering Stephany, Flatulent Frank, Harold Haemorrhoids, and Kidney-Pain Kevin. I went the entire day, without a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, as well!

Things were going well as I entered the store. (Apart from there being no hand-baskets available) I went to the checkouts to get a shopping basket, but no problem really, I was so pleased that I could get about so much easier today, took my time though.

I struggled with the high shelves in the green-fruit department, getting the chestnut mushrooms. The shelves on the tinned and dry goods shelves are much worse, but I didn’t need any of them this time, I was on a fresh-food mission.

I got some vegetables. Tomatoes, Vittoria and black Ladecia ones. The chestnut mushrooms. Two tiny turnips. Some small parsnips for baking. Seafood sticks, Surimi Royal. A packet of Mushroom pate, Milk Roll loaf, and Turkey BBQ chunks. Down to the other end of the shop[, where I got a bottle of washing-up liquid, then to the freezers for a packet of sweet potato fries. Paid at the self-serve tills. Much to the frustration of the poor souls waiting behind me, as I was suffered a Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure moments, thus many things were dropped, and it was a struggle to get down and up to retrieve them. I did turn and apologise to the people.

Out to the bus stop. Stopping at a bench, to make sure that I had got everything with me from the tills, and go through the till receipt, I pressed the option to get. All looked fine, and with so little fooder, I only needed the one shopping bag. So I transferred the heavy stuff to the basket top, with the lighter fodder in the carrier on the handlebars.

As I checked the timing board sign, I got a feeling that told me I was in for another spell of ‘Out-of-it-ness’. I cannot explain how this sense works or comes from, but it might have been the EQ?

Shaking -Shoulder-Shirley kicked off again as I got to the shelter. So I stood behind at the back of the bus stop, as there were a few folks in there waiting, and I didn’t want to disturb them with Shirley’s antics or feel and look like someone with St Vitus (Sydenham’s chorea).

Ten-minutes or so later, Nicodemuses neurotransmitters started working again. At the same time, I felt my concentration going adrift. As the others caught various buses and the shelter empties, I moved in to await the L9’s arrival.

I got settled in the corner on a side-saddle seat. The vagueness of the recollections of the journey now annoyed me. I’m sure I had a chinwag with someone on the bus en route. The next thing I remember correctly was getting off at Winwood Heights, with someone from the bus walking ahead of me at speed into the distance. From here on, things remained more or less rememberable. I did mention this problem to the Doctor, but can’t recall what she said about it?

I walked through to Winwood to Woodthorpe Court, and up to the apartment. Feeling oddly enough, in fine form.

Things were put away in the fridge, the sweet potato chips in the freezer. And I set about doing the meal, the healthier meal (I hoped).

I got down in the £30 second-hand, rickety, non-working recliner with the tray of fodder.

Globderations! The mobile phone burst into life. I struggled out of the recliner, clouting my ankle on the computer chair leg on the way to get to the telephone that was in the corner charging-up. It was a recorded message that I could not hear a word of. When it ended, I tried to find a way of finding out who it came from, but could not. Was it the Ingeus people about the diabetes course? Had they got me an appointment?

02.40hrs: My only option now was to get dressed and go down to the ILC wardens office and ask for help with the phone and beg one of them to call back if it was Ingeus. I fumbled about getting the day clothes and shoes back on. So I dressed and got the walker-guide and limped down through the link passage to the Warden’s Office in Winwood Court. But it was locked up. (Why do these things always happen to me when there is no help available? Flanglemanglingly-Frenetically-Frustrating!) Disappointed, with my spirits lowered, I moped my way back to the flat, with the odious and challenging task of my having to phone Ingeus to find out if it was them or not.

Back to the flat, and reluctantly knocked on Malcolm’s door to see if he knew how I could get the caller who made the recorded call I could not hear earlier. (I hate bothering people) Nope, so back in the flat. Sorry for intruding asking for help, Malcolm, I’ll not do it again!

I got the paperwork for the diabetes place and had to ring their Birmingham number. (At what cost I don’t know?) I got the auto-option choices that I could not decipher at all, so like last week, I pressed ‘One.’ Got some canned music for a bit, then a lady answered. I could only make out 50% of what she was saying. Again, like the bloke last week, she left me waiting while she looked up my details after confirming the name. DOB, address, etc. She returned, and I had to ask her to speak slower, please, but it didn’t really help. She gave the same spiel as the bloke lat time.

Last week’s offer of a Top Valley venue that I explained last time was too far and time-consuming for me. Then told her of my mobility and health problems (All repeated as the previous week). She departed again for a minute or two. Returned with an offer of at Rise Park Community Centre for the course. I explained again, this would involve four bus trips for me, just like Top Valley, but even further away. She said, if it is not suitable, all we can do is return your doctors referral. Agion, I was told to ring back in a week’s time! I think it best if I just don’t bother. I’ll use the internet (If it works) and find out for myself what needs doing and actions need taking. The unhelpful, non-information-digesting, Ingeus can take a hike! I’ll not ring them again; it’s cost me enough in phoning Birmingham four times already, getting negative responses, lack of sympathy and understanding, pachydermatous advice, and robots. Along with veiled threats when they cannot find a solution! (All we can do is return your Doctors Referral) Spitworthy!

The meal ended up, yet again in the bin! I tried to eat a bit of the dinner, but I was not in a mood for eating at all after the Ingeus farce! I had an unhealthy bag of Marmite crisps and dished what was left of the meal.

I’m well pee’d-off now! Once again, sleep took its time coming.

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