Classy TFZer Gentlemen!
“A pessimist is a person who has had to listen to too many optimists.”
INCHCOCK TODAY
Friday 12th March 2021
ITALIANO: Venerdì 12 Marzo 2021
23:25hrs: Horrible ever waking sleep last night. I was in the recliner for about five hours, though, but most of it spent waking up, thoughtless and vague-minded, and waiting to nod-off again! Grubblebleackers!
I got freed from the recliner, caught my balance quickly (Cartilage Cathy was so kind to me this morning, Yee-Ya!) By gum, it was cold in the flat. I wobbled into the kitchen and got the kettle on. Washed last night’s dishes and things and made a brew of Glengettie tea. 
Then did the Health Checks. Pleased to see the SYS at 147, DIA 67 and PULSE down nicely to 83bpm. I didn’t adopt any Smug-Mode yet, mind.
I got the contactless thermometer out and was also satisfied with the resulting figure that it produced. 36.6°c – 97.88°f.
I took last night’s missed dosages of medications. (Fool!)
Got the computer on, and much to my surprise, Microsoft allowed me access to Excel and the HC logs to update. (Weich they denied me for all day yesterday – well, each time I tried, it was updating!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a Thompsons Punjana and then checked out the wall heaters that were not producing any heat at all! It was bloody cold in the flat, I can tell yers! Methinks I have problems with them!
I started to update the Thursday Diary. Got it finished, despite SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley doing her best to have the right arm torn-off at the glenohumeral joint! Hehehe! Vicious she was, for about an hour solid. That’s never happened before. Not for that long a period. Still, she eased off later. Painfully and persistently, I completed the task, and I posted some snaps to Pinterest.
Then, sent the Diary off to WordPress, emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. I discovered it was another lovely, loveable TFZer ladies Birthday, so I made a graphic and sent it off to her. Note I’ve lost so much weight… Hehehe! ♥
Made some comments on WordPress. I visited the WP Reader section, then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I hobbled. (Not so bad actually, Cartilage Cathy is still pleased with me and being gentle too!)
What a mess! Loose, yet gooey with it, short-lived, not a lot of it evacuated, and yet the gluey semi-liquid dollop just would not go away! Several refills of the tank by hand from the sink where needed, and five or six flushes! A jolly good job I had toilet paper spares, well that’s what they were, now more will be required, judging by the whole roll needed to clean things up. Flibblegonkackles!
Apart from so many dropsies thanks to SSS, the stand-up session was only worthy of one mention with a difference. That was after nasal cleaning, teeth cleaning, shaving, bathing, and medicating…
Getting the socks on! It was even funny at the time! I forced the right leg up a little, wedged my bum on the door corner, got the sock part way on, and lost my grip (I do a lot of that!). The cotton sock shot off, hit the back of the closet box, and plonked down into the WC water! I tried to replicate what I would have been doing and made a photo of it afterwards. Another pair of socks were utilised. The legs seem to be retaining fluid again?
The Iceland Foods delivery is due twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs, but I’d got the ablutions sorted early enough to do the hand-washing in the kitchen sink sorted. All done, wrung, and hung above the sink on hangers. The Lily and Yang Yang scent in the Surf soap powder has a delightful smell.
I took a Canan camera photo of the morning view as I put the kettle on and made a mug of Glengettie brew.
I checked the heater in the kitchen, and it was warm now; I turned it up somewhat, as the weather forecast is so gloomy for the 
next 24-hours.
I took a shot of Chestnut Walk and the car park on it.
Time getting close now for the food to arrive. After it does and I get it stored away, I’ll see how supplies look and if another Sainsbury order might be a good idea, depends on what slots are available. Sometimes it’s a long wait to get one.
I did some updating on this post and then made another brew, Thompsons Punjana, this time. No time to drink it, the intercom rangeth and flashed, it was the Iceland Food delivery arriving, I pressed the entry button and awaited his arrival.
The Iceland man dropped the begs… begs? Yet another cock-up wiv me grammar, Tsk!), bags I meant, through the doorway for me. Slipped him a choice of cans of plonk, and off he trotted on his mission to feed the nation!
I took the carriers through to the kitchen and went on the internet to see if anything was short delivered or substituted.
Does yer know, there wasn’t a single substitution, and nothing short delivered… Even more surprising, there was nothing found to be short-dated either, as well, besides! Iceland outdid themselves with this delivery, a definite, very welcome first!
I was well pleased, but of course, I’d not checked for any damaged, crushed or leaking goods yet, so I resisted going 
into a Smug-Mode for the time being.
I set about putting the frozen stuff away first. As you can see in the photograph here on the right, it was all healthy living stuff. Well, I forgot to get the chips. Hahaha! Still a kid at heart, I am!
Next, I put away the fridge items, far better foodstuffs. Topside beef slices, pork & Pickle mini pork pies, sweet chilli chicken, chicken thighs, potato salad, egg-mayonnaise, and some strawberry and whipped cream desserts. Now I’ve put the spell checker on; the previous sentence had eight mistakes on it! Ahem! Got the other stuff in the bathroom and cupboards.
The YourArea magazine arrived, so I investigated. The lottery winner had been sentenced for his appallingly dangerous driving in which he killed a 75-year-old lady in the car he’d drifted across the road, and his BMW then crashed head-on into an oncoming Ford Fiesta.
I say sentenced; he got away with a 16-week suspended sentence and a one-year driving ban! For a £45 million lottery winner, that’s really going to bother him, innit! And the poor husband has lost his wife through Topham’s ignorance of the law and lack of concentration in driving, and I believe still in the hospital.
The now 31-year old Topham said in court: “I honestly don’t believe I thought about what I was about to do,” he said. “If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.” (Me, me, me!) Huh! Generalfeldmarschall Friedrich Paulus said that after Stalingrad, will have to find money from his £45m for taxies? Some sodding deterrent that was! Was the jury back-handed? 
Just asking! I bet he the had best expensive lawyers!
At least I found some goodish news on the Covid-19 figures locally.
I decided to get some late brekkers.
I called Warden Deana on the phone, got a recorded message.
Phone the Doctors Surgery, got a recorded message.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie, and I took a tumble as I bent down to check the heat not coming from the radiator. Clouted the head on the ledge on the way down, and SSS started to play up as I struggled back up onto my feet with the help of the stove.
Made the tea and had a sit-down. I’m not sure what happened then, but I assume I fell asleep cause it was hours later when I seemed to wake-up, head pounding. I took a Codeine 60g. I didn’t feel poorly, just confused.
Did some updating of this post, but concentration was not coming to me easily.
It’s still a bit of a blur. No notes on the pad had been added, so I assume I’d nodded off again cause I woke up in the recliner. Feeling peckish, I made a meal of sorts made up. Didn’t enjoy it much, but I’ve had worse, though. A taste rating of 6/10 was given.
I had a surreal few hours then.
In the morning, I found these photographs of the TV screen on the SD card?
Yes, it beats me why, as well!
After perusing the pictures, I assumed that I’d been watching, or falling asleep to and waking, Law & Order, Tales of the unexpected, many adverts and commercials, and possibly even a Nightmare Kitchen episode?
All I can remember for definite is that I was having difficulty in getting to sleep. I did keep nodding off, I think, but the nods only lasted a few seconds each time?
I noticed it was 19:00hrs on the clock, then went into a Thought Storming period.
A bad one, guilt, despair, mistakes, isolation, depression and fear all played a part. These went on for ages, with some emotional events from the past repeating!
I was fighting with my memory for some unknown reason, and I became self-loathing in the process.
I was pointless concerning myself with banal questions and seeking positive answers; Had I been to the Porcelain Throne today? What to do about the ear-ache? I must get a Sainsbury order done tomorrow, etc., on and on the silliness of life came at me, sadly, along with the regular guilt, shame and embarrassment. I really did feel so; what’s the word I’m looking for… lambasting and self-chastising. Oh, that’s two words!
I did eventually nod-off, and when I woke up, I wondered if my memory had been warped as I recalled how I’d felt, but the sense of doom and gloom was no longer lingering?
Isn’t life funny at times?
23:40hrs: I stirred, after a decent five-hours of undisturbed sleep, in need of an urgent wee-wee. I disentangled my elephantine over-wobbly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and stood up to catch my balance… 
not allow me access to the programme. Cracklepackers!
I got dirted again when I put the kettle on and did some handwashing. Some cotton long and short socks and the made in Myanmar (Burmese), too small to fit me, grey zip-up jacket. Done, wrung, and hung to dry above the kitchen sink.
As I got stripped, I could see that the ankle looked much betterer than earlier? Then realised I was using the Kodak camera; that’s why things looked brighter. I put the Kodak camera away and used the Canon for a while after this. 
because of this good luck, I didn’t put any socks on. (I had too later; when it got so much colder!) 
I moved the earlier hand-washed grey jumper onto the serving tray and placed it near the kitchen wall heater. I must keep checking it for safety. As it is not really dry enough yet.
recycling one and got them in the walker-guide box. 
Well, what a shock on the local weather forecast? 
I collected them and did a visual inspection. At least when the next month’s prescriptions arrive, I can sort them out using these new pods, hopefully easier than last month with all the mixed empty mishmash of pods to get confused with. Well, that’s the plan anyway. 
Totally drained now, mentally for some unknown reason. I got the nosh prepared. I ate it all. (By gum, I’m eating well recently, too well?) 
channel 11. Not a chance! I was in the land of nod before the programme even started! Waking up to the tune of the end credits playing. I considered getting up to wash the pots and dishes, but I was soon back with Sweet Morpheus. 
23:20hrs: I woke with a bit of start, and as I began to free my overly-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, a few thought came at the same time to me. 
As I got up on my feet to catch my balance, Cartilage Cathy gave a nervous-making wobble and had me holding onto the chair, then a realisation dawned… “There were no gurgling and rumblings from the innards” Amazing! It seems that the Numark Instant Diarrhorea tablets from Amazon that I took last night had worked miracles… I had to curb my enthusiasm, though. With my luck, you never know what disaster, embarrassment, Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop lay ahead! However, I could not resist going into a Semi-Smug-Mode, all the same. I awaited the arrival of the Throne visit with a certain trepidation.
I make a brew of Thomsons Punjana tea. Neuropathy Pete was giving the right side of me a decent shaking every time I walked or stood up. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley joined in occasionally.
I updated the BP log in Excel. Yes, Microsoft, let me gain access to the programme again today! They seem to be improving – no, I shouldn’t have said that, knowing how often the damned thing goes down! A bit of pushing my luck there. When will I ever learn? Hahaha! I took the morning medications.
and late deliveries of the tablets. Which needed uploading and sorting before going in the post. I did get it finished in the end, and I Pinterested some snaps. Then had a look at the Emails as I sent the link off. 
I hobbled into the kitchen and got some leeks prepped; it took me a while. Really mud-covered inside the leaves today. Sliced them and put them in the crock-pot, seasoned with a couple of vegetarian Oxo cubes added as a flavouring. I’ll put the heat on later, but meantime, they can be marinating. Nothing, like a good marinationing! Hahaha! Had a wee-wee.
I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and then I got on with starting this blog going. It was a slow job, not through any ailments particularly, just a sudden loss of concentration for some unknown reason. After a few hours, 
ETA for the delivery. Well, they don’t like it when I opt for no substitutes, do they! The bread is going to be short dated now! They always win in the end. Swine! And they have cream doughnuts either!
I had a look at today Amazon tracker for the pill pods. Oh, dearie, me! This one is going to be arriving so late in the day again.
I’d not long been out, sorting out the black bags and getting them into the box on the walker. But I dare not go out to take them to waste chute and risk missing any of the deliveries that are due today. 
: However, I did find out how to turn on the Micro-mode on the Kodak camera. Yahoo! I decided my first effort in Macro mode photography would be the packet of Fresh Cream French Horns! Unfortunately, it took me eight attempts to get this one taken; all the others were over-smudged? 
Working on the diary, and I heard the voice of Desk-Top Dancer, ILC, Warden Deana, as she came into the flat. Lovely to see her again. She’s come to do a wristlet alarm check. But we lost contact with Nottingham City Homes (Monitoring) Control room. She tried again, and someone spoke with Deana, I couldn’t decipher or hear properly what was said, but they were having problems, I think. Said she’d have to try again later. I told Deana I’d make an alarm call later on. We chatted for a few minutes, and I had a laugh. Mostly me, moaning about the Astra-Seneka after-effects and not being able to contact the Doctor about it. She had to shoot off on her rounds, which left me somewhat down in spirits. Poor old twit!
I had a minute or so natter with Robert. And got back inside when he went into the lobby. 
I got the nosh sorted out, making sure that the strawberry jam & fresh cream French Horns were not missed off of the tray. Hehe! Of course, I only eat them because of medical conditions. Or should that be mental conditions? Ahem!
The short-dated milk roll bread from Sainsbury’s wasn’t eaten; it was too dry for my tastes. Serves me right for accepting it! But all else was! The tomatoes were a bit bland. The Chilli-chicken was okay. The peas and leeks went down well! The Iceland canned potatoes were a good advert for cardboard-flavoured foods! Taste-Rating: 6/10. 
The metabolism was satisfied with this meal, though. I got the things washed-up and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, to watch some TV, somewhat later than usual with having to stay up for the delivery. But Sweet Morpheus was welcoming for once. I drifted off for five uninterrupted, dream-free hours of bliss! Bodacious!
I woke tired from the guilty nightmares I’d been having… but not for long; the gurgling movement from the innards and tiny but lethal escapages of gas from the rear-end put an end to any self-pitying. 
Trotsky Terence was still in charge. (I’m expecting some medications to arrive today via Amazon, on the tracker, they haven’t been dispatched yet, oh, I hope they hurry, Hahaha!) You watch; by the time I get them delivered, Constipation Konrad will have regained control. Hehehe!
I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie tea that now, ten-days after having the AstraZeneca vaccination, I am beginning to taste again! 
updated the Health Checks listings while I could, but stopped… ‘You are a fool! I said to myself, best to get the Health Checks done for today first. Humph! So, I did. 
The tea went cold, so I went to make another one, but it didn’t happen. 
the kitchen window and the still damp ones on the server-trolley in front of the wall heater. 
Nottingham City Council has voted to bring in total a council tax increase of 4.99% from April. The increase, made up of a 1.99% rise in direct council tax and 3% in the adult social care precept, has been voted through at a full council meeting as part of a cost-saving budget that will see some £15.6 million of savings next year. The council has highlighted an additional £36 million in cost pressures to be borne over the next financial year, following a drastic reduction in the amount of money allocated to it in central government revenue support grants (RSGs). A shame, all part of the Covid Claw-back! Utility price rises, buses taken off that served the flats, Bank decreasing interest rates. It doesn’t stop there; Rents have gone up, water rates, Council tax, and more! Sob!
Residents are being warned about phone call scams, including people pretending to be police officers after two elderly victims lost more than £15,000. Nottinghamshire Police say the scammers are using sophisticated “spoofed” telephone numbers, which appear to be the police, helping to gain contact with their victims. As part of the scams, a Hucknall man in his 80s handed more than £11,300 to the fraudsters, while another report from Newark saw an 
services, is warning “urgent action” is needed. Well, as if I didn’t know! I wish they’d tell the uncontactable Doctor at the Sherringham Park Medical Practice! Still, if I feel brave enough, I can ring 111 and ask for advice… maybe, possibly… perhaps?
mini Swiss rolls. 
I got the handwashing done, deodorised, wrung and hung above the sink! 
me being a man with an excellent memory like what I have. Ahem!
Then, the door chimes rang forth with Dusty Springfield’s tune. It was the Community Nurse, Matron Jackie. 
My attention turned to the Nosh. Pork Knuckle, garden peas, a few sugar snap peas, tomatoes, potato fries, a Marmite chunk. With some milk roll bread – sounds good to me! So, I made it up, plated it, and on the tray. I made some mini-Dagwood sarnies with the milk roll bread as I tucked into it. Fantastic meal! (Of course, I was in a super-good mood, having just been spoilt by the nurse’s visit) Flavour rating: 8.5/10! 
00:30hrs: I woke to require a wee-wee and fought to dislodge my bouncy, prodigiously over-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner. 
I had to put the Canon camera on charge and nipped onto the balcony to take the view and Chestnut Walk photographs, using the Kodak.
soon turned into a whimpering wreck!) 
I got the Phorpain Gel out again and gave Cathy’s knee a good rubbing in of it. But, I had only myself to blame. But I didn’t. Hehehe! 
I got the handwashing done, a bit more of it today. I used the powder Surf; it does smell nice! Standing there in washer-woman style at the sink for a while, upsetting Cartilage Cathy, as was expected. I must try to remember to keep ringing the clothes out!
I made-up an Iceland order. For Friday 12th, between 0600 > 08:00hrs.
Chilli-Con-Carne this afternoon, and I aim to add some peas and the leeks. They smelt excellent cooking. 
A box of 30 sachets of ‘Specta’ acute & chronic, Instant Relief powders was ordered.
The message came up to say the Amazon Alchohol-free-wine was one stop away! So, I took the two bags of waste, got them on the trolley, took one bag to the waste-chute, and the other down to the caretakers’ bin. Got down in the lobby and realised I’d not took the camera with me. So, back up to 
No sooner had I got into the front lobby than the Amazon driveress came it. All four bottles were in a box with cardboard dividers. That box just fitted in the waste box on top of the trolley. Hello, a bit of good luck there… it’s worrying, you know!
Care Home Sports – Hehehe!
00:00hrs: I stirred after sleeping for five-hours, but they were broken ones, disturbed by repeated wakings up, silly thoughts and nodding off again! Tsk! And a feeling of doom and gloom lingered in my tortured brain! Likely due to the series of dreams I’d been having!
I boldly heaved and puffed away, freeing my abdominous over-bellied aching body from the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, and rose up on my feet, to catch my balance. Argh! Both knees gave me pain; the right one, with Cathy Cartilage, was really keen and sharp! My hobbling was so slow and so carefully done after this. I realised and remembered then, the Morrison order delivered yesterday by the Amazon shopper! Me hobbling down to help him carry the stuff up to the flat. And the git just leaving all the bags in the front lobby of the building. The agony of all that walking and carrying brought thoughts of malice, hatred and revenge-seeking! Which soon dissipated, as I realised this is not my style! No matter how the chap treated me, hurt me, and caused me such discomfort, I must not lower myself to his and Amazon’s standards.
I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate; no sooner had the PP’s come down, the action started! Trotsky Terence’s revenge! Short, smelly, sticky, gooey… but no bleeding from anywhere at least! And just two flushes needed to free the bowl of the evacuated product! Mind you, I was amused to see after the second pull, bubbles continued to come back up from underneath the water in the porcelain for a few minutes. I took this photo of them, but they do not show up much on it. I swear I could hear a sort of gurgling noise as they came to the surface? 
rubbed into the knees. And I realised that I had been sleeping, wearing the bamboo diabetic socks on last night! A ‘No-No’ that is! I pulled them down to see if the muscles in the leg had gone soft, and they really had! Naughty, Inchcock, stupid, Inchcock! I’m not going to bother to take them off now, though; I’ll do it later when I handwash them with the shirt. I do feel a fool – I’ve never done that before? I must have an advice notice somewhere about what to do if you do sleep in the hosiery. I recall getting one from the 
Instant Ode assembled: I made a brew to drink and stew, but what can I do? Doomed, I will be! Deaf, can’t hear running water and cannot wee-wee! In pain and pissed-off with me! I’m a social outcast, an old logicality-abortee! Not a good rhyme, but it flowed out easily enough at the time!
I nipped out on the balcony to take a shot of the view. But the Canon camera does no do night shots very well, as you can see with the results of my photographicalisationing! 
return to the Throne, decided not, and got the Health Checks done. At least these photos came out in the proper ratio-shape?
wouldn’t give me access! 
I went to the NHS BP site and input my figures. 
I got in and sorted the eight black and blue bin bags. Then, I got them on the box with the others on the walker-trolley and off to the waste room. It was a deathly-quiet Sunday routine. But to perk things up a little, I trapped a finger in the cast-iron chute lid. I swore mildly and then returned to the apartment.
I got the handwashing done, only two pairs of long bamboo socks, and hung them above the kitchen sink to drip dry. 
The Daktacort ointment will have to be applied to stop the bleeding, so I have no choice other than to extricate my generously-over-ample stomach and body from the c1968 recliner, catch my balance of trot (limp) to the wet room to do so. I arrived, and I found I needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne first. 
evacuation started at a fair pace. But things got stuck-up and very gooey, messy then. I waited, hoping that the mess would flow again, and even got three answers to clues! 
Sure enough, the movement began also, but it was so squooshy, stinky, and a right flaming mess to clean up – with Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding and dripping down the legs, and the PP’s down, naturally, this made it a mammoth job to clean up! Still, it didn’t bother me much; I just pressed on and cleaned it all up? 
I made a brew on the way, took the missed evening medications (Ahem!), and tended the Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer readings were SYS 166, DIA 76 and PULSE 92. All a smidge high, I thought.
I went to open Excel to compare and record the readings on the graph, but guess what? I couldn’t access Word or Excel… Again!
The shaving started, and a mystery found here; as I was bending down to pick up one of many dropped razor, some blood dripped down onto my nose? I investigated and saw a little cut on the top of my bald head? How? No razor goes up there, no need? Anyroad, it was only a tiny nick… possibly done by one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court; the phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, demons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, aliens, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, gremlins, and ghostly goo-like Ectoplasms! Hehehe! 
Washed the socks and got them hung above the sink to drip dry. I’ll move them nearer the heater when it’s safe to do so, and no chances of any dripping. (Pork or beef! Hahaha!)
down to the front door; I was struggling by now and feeling a little strained and drained!
Collated the bags and got them sorted out… slowly, very slowly!
melted!
Ah, I remember, it’s TFZer Shirley’s birthday. I’ll make a graphic and put it on Facebook. 
I risked making myself feel more depressed by looking at the local Emagazine for anything worth promoting. Apart from local yobbo drug gangs letting off fireworks each time they get a new supply to let their pissant users know, the possibility of Nottinghamshire Covid-19 Vaccination centres might have to close, due to supply 
issues, there was not a lot worth reading about. Mind you, the Covid-19 new cases were well down over the last seven days. So, not all doom and gloom… even if I am currently in a ‘Doom & Gloom’ attack. 
. I made up a cold meal, imitation Dagwood sarnies, pork & stuffing meat, and tomatoes. Chip sticks, roast onions and some sugar snap peas and got settled early to dine. Tray on my knee, feet up om the swivel chair, and tucked into the nosh!
23:40hrs: I removed my over-flabbily-bellied body from the c1968 recliner and utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). A short sharp affair, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) to follow.
No messing about, I got on the computer to create a template for today’s blog. Starting with doing a few graphics on CorelDraw. But, I didn’t get too far, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room. Incidentally, Cartilage Cathy was a lot kinder to me this morning.
It seemed to me that the daily PTDDSB (Porcelain Throne, Daily-Domination-Stakes- Battle) for supremacy in the evacuation was a close thing. Still, a comeback from Constipation Konrad had curbed the rampant messy tendencies of Trotsky Terence for once! So, I had a go at the crossword puzzle as I waited for things to kick-off. Just as yesterday, I didn’t solve a single clue! (Well, I’m consistent, if not capable. Hehehe! The movement started slowly and stayed that way, but no pain or bleeding, and as I said, it was a lot less mess to clean up. I still had to refill the tank by hand though, I think the problem is the fluffy too-thick toilet roll paper.
I decided to get the hand-washing done first. But and however – guess who had left the hot water tap (faucet) to run cold? Yes, pickle-brain Inchcock had struck-again! Gawd-blimey, I this far too often! Hence decision had to be made (another Inchcock problem area!) My EQ told me there nothing to do but press on handwashing boiling the water in the kettle and saucepan, for more Whoopsiedangleplops were on their way! He also called me a name, a naughty one!
So, the half-hour or so handwashing exercise took me nearly two hours! Not to mention the scolding of two fingers fetching the kettle to the sink… Oh, I’ve said it! It’s a good job that I was in a slightly better mood today! I washed the long-sleeve jumper, the jammie-bottoms and the pair of long bamboo diabetic socks. The washed ones from yesterday were not fully-dry enough to put on today, so I got a couple of 100% short-ones to adorn after the ablutions to wear. 
I made a start on moving the stuff back into the cupboard, but soon lost interest!
Since the side-effect-ridden AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccination was given to me a week last Saturday, SYS has also been higher, its the lowest reading today than for ages. I think I might be getting confused here, between the SYS and the temperature? Well, fancy that!
I found 
an NHS site on Google, where you can put in your reading for SYS and DIA, and you get an instant show of where you stand on the chart, with a black cross! Proof that I was right to worry when the SYS went up to 180 five days ago, well, that was well in the red area! 
Gotten Himmel! Look at the time! What happened, where did it go?
terribly bland, tasteless, watery. Savourless and unappetising. These Don Holio chopped tomatoes needed a warning giving-out about them for anyone unlucky enough to buy any. The Sainsbury crispy smoked ready-cooked bacon slices were very fatty tasting as well! 
However, and leaving the pots in the sink in cold water to be cleaned when I have some hot water again, in the morning, at first, I was well-pleased that I was in time to watch the channel 11, Tales of the Unexpected episodes.
00:05hrs: I semi-woke up, returning to mock-life, and amidst all the confusion milling about in my brain, I found so many things to fret over, worry about, and ignore; for a few pointless, unfathomable, befuddling, minutes. Slowly I worked out what day it was and became aware of the warm wet sensation from within the PP’s. I hoped it was PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble) or CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) instead of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. (Which it was! Phew!
I took the missed evening medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS was down a smidge at 149, DIA at 72, and the PULSE at 88bpm. Which overall, it was a better set of figures this morning.
The made in Hong Kong, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer temperature reading is well in the danger area red, at 37.9°c – which Mr Google told me was 100.22°f. High, but not critical. Phew!
Then after washing the affected areas, the dodgy bit had to be done! Stopping the fungal lesion bleeding. Nover an easy job, but with not having to use it for so long, the Dakacort cortisone cream application proved more messy and painful this time. Not 100% successful either. But, pain-wise, Cathy Cartilage’s knee was a lot worse to medicate. If I don’t rub in the gel enough, the pain relief is not up to the job. So, I had no choice other than to keep applying it and massaging the knee with a degree of pressure that didn’t go down well with Cathy at all! I’ll take an extra Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications, maybe some Paracetamol as well. Walking and keeping my balance is not easy when this happens, but I mustn’t moan. Plenty of folks a lot worse off than I am.
I made a start on this page, and I had to go to the wet room for a painful wee-wee. Although, a reluctant one. 
I remembered to put the Kodak camera on battery on charge. I was using the old Canon charger, thanks to Amazon sending an American two-pin charger that wouldn’t work anyway. Still, it started charging without any bother.
Me ripping the new PP’s as I pulled them up! Luckily I have a decent stock in hand now.
I got on with the handwashing. The long Bamboo socks, a pair of short ones, the crap cold Amazon so called ‘Lounge pants’, and the well-made in Myanmar (Burma) are far too small and thin, grey zip-up jacket with pockets.
I nipped out with the waste bags to the waste-room chute, and I disposed of them down the tube.
I used the last of cooked pork, chicken tikka on sticks, garden peas and tomatoes. I lathered plenty of butter on the Sourdough bread, added the last pot pf the horrible Iceland raspberry trifle, and got down to eat it. The flavour-rating given was only 5/10, but the sourdough bread was tasty enough. 
00:45hrs: Woke requiring a wee-wee. Which has been something of a rarity this week. So, I delayed not and hauled my overly-stomached torso from the warmth and discomfort of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and hobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). 
What a struggle that was! A weak, trickling affair that caught me out with both PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble). A check on the NHS Urologist chart proved that the wee was in the number 6 status! Very Dehydrated? I thought I’d been keeping up with the spring-water guzzling too? I’d better make sure today that I take a lot of it in.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie to get me started drinking. Made a decent looking mugful and added the milk… but the milk had curdled a smidge. That was the Sainsbury’s Jersey full cream one too! Hey, ho! I opened a bottle of Cravendale full-milk and made another brew. I took the missed evening medications. Tsk!
Trotsky Terence. Stinky-phoo, mostly liquids followed by a generous dollop of the gooey, sticky mass of faecal matter. I’ve never had such a chaotic, squishy evacuation as this one was!
fresh TP rolls out ready after the nearly as onerous evacuation yesterday. Cleaning up took me a least ten-minutes, if not more. 
exhausted after I’d finished! 
The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed to work the first time again. But it did show that the SYS had tumbled from yesterdays high of 180 down to 149. The DIA was 80. and the PULSE a little high as 94bpm.
The made in Hong Kong Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave me a surprise. The body temperature had shot back up again? 37.5°c – 99.5°f, a bit over the top that was? Of course, I can’t get to talk to the Doctor about these readings, neither on the email or landline phone!
Lots of ambers and reds on the Excel record sheet now! 
Getting tired now. I went to make a brew, and I found that the morning had turned foggy, to put it mildly. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold.
wrists. I noticed the Warfarin alert band had been strangulating the arm. 
handwashing done before going to the ablutionary duties. I think it safe to say I got carried away somewhat with it this morning. I started off, doing the grey that should have been brown, Indian made, thin, cold, too long flimsy lounge pants, and a made in Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket. 
hypnotised with things.
I got in the wet room and did the de-nasalising first, which went smoothly for once. The teeth cleaning left me with a little discomfort for some reason? I used the twin-bladed Bic razors for the first time. Which, with afterthoughts, may not have been such a good idea after all.
With the feet being hidden by the socks yesterday, I was surprised at my plates’ state. Both old ulcer scars seemed to be trying to make a comeback. And the tibial and spider veins were getting more prominent for the first time in months. Mind you, they were still more artistic than 
the idiot Andres’s pile of bricks at the Tate gallery looked!
Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me any right leg dances! Plenty of harmless dropsies suffered throughout the shaving and showering. I think I ought to have been given a medal, or a mention in despatches, for my heroism in using the… wait for it – Sock Glide! Smug-Mode-Adopted! Especially with my putting on the new extra-long f diabetic socks for the first time! I put these on partly due to the Weather forecast on Radio Nottingham for tonight -3°c, 26.6°f. The too-small Morrisons PPs were worn as well. They are not very good protection but do keep one warm, at least. As with the long mesh bamboo hosiery. Not cheap, but just worth the investment. I also noted the signs of water retention in this photo wot I took after the session.