Category: Ode

Ode to Maintaining One’s Sanity – Part Four or summat

In an odd mood this morning, folks, sorry, The early morning perkiness indicates me; Has done a bunk, I fear! Grugglebogness! Worries over the increase in carer fees, but my stepdaughter Jill (not really, but she ought to adopt me!), is helping me out again and investigating why I have been told I will be paying it from last Monday, but no one has told me how much it will be? I fret so easily nowadays. Hehe!

There was a time long ago, I w fascinated by Dennis Wheatley,
His character, Gregory Sallust, I thought was top quality,
Cunning, dedicated, loyal, brave with great chivalry,
I’d get back from the local hostelry,
After drinking and revelry…
Fall up or down the stairs accidentally,
Badly affected, alcoholically.

Working and drinking made my entire constellation,
For years, there was no guilt, and no contrition,
Boozing gave me a social connection…
I enjoyed it, beer and me had a cohabitation,
My taxes paid, drinking gave me no consternation!

Then one day, suddenly I decided out of the blue,
To stop my drinking ale, swearing never again to do!
The hardest thing I’d ever done, I can tell you!
I’ll not go into my suffering hullabaloo,
Never since have I drank plonk or used a corkscrew!

Now, so many years later, life is barren…
Of so-called friends, all abandoned me again,
Now I am an aged, sickly doyen…
Miserable, grumpy, but clean-shaven,
Clean-shaven? Why was that written?
I always wanted to be a Tibicen,
A flutist, but that’s probably not relevant,
I’m wandering here a bit, having a vent,

Not a vent… Erm… having a mental orbit!
Feeling a bit of a twit,
Misspellings lost words, things miswriting…
I’m losing it again, Gawdamit!

My confidence is getting titchier,
My mood is definitely schmaltzier,
My trips to the Throne frequenter
My Gawd, that’s four times this morning…
What is happening?
Each visit gets messier!
Stomach aching and is paunchier!
The passing of wind is getting noisier,
Evacuated product is meatier!
Every frequent wee-wee grows oozier!
It’s a good job that I’m no longer boozier!

It’s the memory that confuses me most,
I try, and I’ve not yet given up the ghost,
The brain nowadays is a far outpost…
Gives me access once or twice daily, at most!
But still, I remain chatty and verbose…
Seeking peace and inner glasnost,
And the ability to do my blogpost!

The Carers come twice a day; most are congenial,
Show patience, as I get confused, me being demential,
Some take my rubbish to the bin, others are contractual,
The good ones outweigh the not so good; it’s factual!
I usually get the shakes and a wobble…
Some chinwag, they go to that trouble,
This leaves me in a contentment bubble!

I like to think that I am still trainable,
But memory loss is always unavoidable,
Although, day to day it can be changeable,
That’s when I can get feeling unamiable…
And, I believe there is only me blameable,
Guilt can make contentment unavailable,
Thinking at times that I should be throttleable,
Then a kind act is given, and I get the unattainable,
And life is temporarily less circumscriptible,
Then no longer think I’m gullible or sulliable!

Some mornings I seem to transmogrify…
One leg fluid-filled, ‘tother thin, don’t know why?
Then there is Saccade Sandra, in my right eye,
My spectacles, the optician has to rectify,
He’s a snotty bloke, but at least I know why…
Last time I visited their pig-sty,
I warned the Lady of Peripheral Neuropathy, why?
Cause I’d had it bad, arm and leg shaking, me oh my!
The arm shot out, making her test lenses fly…
Her stare said she wanted me to painfully die!
The ladies hatred, I could not nullify!
So, going there again could make me cry!

This mornings carer, not ringing the bell, an oversight?
No, she never does; I didn’t hear her, her voice is light,
Crept up behind me, didn’t half give me a flipping fright!
Did she say good morning? Well, she well might…
But I didn’t hear her in the dark light.

“Sit down!” she suddenly boomed out,
Sticking her finger out towards the chair,
I took the medications, with trepidation about…
But I didn’t sit in the chair, to be fair…
I thought she wanted to give me a clout!
I chatted about it being so dark,
She was not ready for chin-waggings remarks,
Yet departed, happy as a lark?

Depression began to activate…
I found it hard to concentrate,
The Porcelain Throne was again much used,
Messy, tacky, splashes and floused…
The Throne today is much overused!
At last, it was done and cleaned. I did vacate…
Leaving the hot tap running, I did not appreciate!
No chance of a shave and shower now, mate!
I was disoriented, irritable, not focused,
In a massive fed-upperdness, I was circumfused,
I need to get myself refocused
Sod-it! Back to the Porcelain Throne, I had to navigate!

This below is the wet room, which contains the much overused Porcelain Throne. Today, I discovered that it includes 242 wall tiles, 54 cracks in the floor, and 78 on the ceiling. Which also has 14 lumps and a damp patch. The cross wording did not go well; two clues were solved in a total time on the book of three hours.

The most used room of the day!

Part of the Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

Inchcock Today: Maintaining One’s Sanity in Ode – Part Two

Sanity is something that does not come readily…
Insanity, now that comes easily to me, for free!
It wasn’t a good start to life for newborn Inchy,
The poor little mite had a nasty squinzey…
Handed Inchy over to her, by the midwife, Elsie,
Inchcock, her newborn less than 3lb baby…

A Verse from Inchcock’s Alto Ego

His Ma said: I Don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!
When he heard of this, years later, t’was a rent!
No wonder the lad grew up, a smidge belligerent!
And always felt unwanted, unloved, different…
Had he known the misery coming in a torrent…
He’d have settled for drowning in the river current!

Back To The Real Inchcock’s Odeing

My lack of schooling stunted my working activity,
Thus starting my wander into psychoactivity?
I was determined to actively maintain my morality,
Improving myself, was the task of great enormity,
Things went wrong, and life ended up a bit shitty!

I proudly continued to work hard, showing my stupidity,
Made redundant four times, and then the insanity…
Duodenal Ulcer, Reflux Roger, Heart attack, hit me,
Peripheral Neuropathy, Saccades, deafness you see,
Then the stroke – medical problems constantly…
The fungal lesion, piles, problem in the lower-region vicinity,
But, did it bother me? Nae, nor even the poverty,
Press on blindly, bumbling, fumbling along, is the key!

I had to show faith, belief and positivity!
The body was getting a bashing, feeling rickety!
The memory, well, short-term, almost hilarity,
Is there any help? A bonkersness charity?

Control, concentration, became a travesty!
Sometimes I can control my passivity…
But worryingly, is my current oversensitivity,
During the day, I can feel quite jaunty…
Then sink, thinking self-pity,
But without any clarity?
The mind working somehow in duality?

Of wants, needs and desires, there’s a deficiency,
Simple tasks grow in perplexity…
Depressions show ever more confusion, density,
I fail to attain the slightest moments of tranquillity,
Thought Storm rage, wee-wees show violent fluidity,

For Porcelain Throne sessions, I’ve grown an affinity!
I know; this is something of an abnormality…
I suppose, all a part of my growing mental-duality!
Depression, anxiety, am I becoming a dilettante?

I intended today, to try and stop being so whiney,
She just kicked off again; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley,
I just rubbed in a dollop of Phorpain gel – gently!

There is something I await, pretty eagerly…
Summat I have to do bi-quarterly…
Even though I’m now quite elderly…
Inject Enoxaprin into my tummy.

Well, that was nice, two injections into one dummy,
I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!

Whoopsiedangleplop!

Oh, I forgot about going to the clinic, neurology,
Is there a department called Forgettology?
Where they can mend a wayward memory?
A shame I’ve got this mental and physical instability!

I suspect you’re finding this ode a little crumby?
That I throw in the odd bit of codology?
Enough of this danged cybertechnology!
I’m off to get my bus pass, after making a mug of tea!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Ode

Saturday 6th November – In Ode

Bestirred!

Woke up, cramps in my toes were dying down; I checked on my feet,
Other than the tootsies, the feet and legs looked alright,
In fact, almost a pretty sight!
Send the photo to the Tate? I might!

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Mystery Music?

Moving my obese wobbly body, I heard a weird distant noise,
Mumbling, semi-musical, it could have been rumbustious schoolboys,
Seemed it might be coming from the end car park, which annoyed me.
I opened the balcony to see if I could spot the hobbledehoy,
Binoculars, camera, long-distance spectacles, but I had no joy…

A mystery to me, nothing untoward could I see… Oy-oy?
The music started; Thud thud thud, noisy? Oh, boy!
It suddenly stopped, what sounded like someone on a tannoy…
Rang out, then silence fell – wonder if it the local Choirboys?

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Fodder Preperationing

Perhaps the finest, best, tastiest Relish!
Although to deceased tastebuds, it’s a bitch!
To get your tonsils tingling and atwitch…
This is the sonovabitch!

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I’m thinking of getting a new, more robust padlock! Hehe!

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Good enough for little me,
Although they make me pee,
The cupboard door just swung free,
And I clouted missen on the knee!
Accifauxpas started early – Hehe!

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Which means…

More hand washing for me to do,
But I’m not getting into a stew,
I’ll get the clothes looking brand new,
And then I’ll make a Glengettie brew!

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Ah, kettles on, I’ll photo the view.

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.

I know what I’ll do now, the Blood Pressure test,
My first effort was not exactly my best…
I’ll do it again, at my own behest…
Oh no, excellent readings – I thumped my chest!
Yahoo! This reading is one of my best!.

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Late On Sky

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There followed, I’m not kidding, ten hours of slogging on the internet. Amazon, two more parcels are expected today. The tracker said for both of them; Today by 15:00hrs…, next check Today by 17:00hrs. Now it’s showing today by 21:00hrs! Being a Saturday, it is my day to select copy and file words to use on the Odes.

I was doing so well…

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP S

I decided to get the ablutions done and give me a break from the brain-work. Ablutions to do. It seemed such a good, logical idea at… at the time!

Oh, no! I got as far as the sink to get the nasal cleaning things out… I stepped backwards, intending to close the door, and lost my balance as I turned. It’s not that I tumbled back and came into contact with the doorframe then floor. That is the highlight of this incident…

It’s that, apart from setting Harolds Haemorrhoids bleeding and a smidge of pain – It how I bounced off of the door frame, I had no control with my going backwards; The miracle is that I hit the edge and slid down almost in slow motion! This slowed me down en route. Thus no serious bother whatsoever was caused! No elbow, arm or shoulder, or head-banging!!!Even Back-Pain-Brenda didn’t kick-off!

I know it must sound daft, but I felt over the moon with my luck!

But to be on the safe side, I abandoned the ablution session anyway.

I’ll do it later on when the Amazon has been… if it isn’t too late.

Otherwise, I’ll just stay dirty. Hahaha!

I Stayed Dirty!

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The Carer, whose name just escapes me at the moment, rang the door chime and entered. (I know, me forgetting something, it’s hard to believe. Hehe!) She did spot me dropping a tablet as I took them, a Codeine as it turned out, Tsk! I wondered what she was doing when she bent down in front of me… Hahaha! No bags were taken to the chute. So I took them with some more I made up. And considering my Accifauxpa earlier, I nipped along like a good un! Amazing!

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Getting Late Now

Sugar! I’ve missed the firework display again!
So, no photographs! Life is a strain,
The reason for this miserable failure, I put down to my hearing aids batteries both dying a death at the same time again,
It left me with mental pain and a damaged brain…
Not really!

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Ode To Sleep

Getting to sleep in the old days of the chimney sweep,
Meant using the services of the Nags Head, barkeep,
Which got me into fisticuffs and many a losing threap!
Get home, and the stairs seemed just too steep…
So I’d collapse noisily into a stupor and unsightly heap!

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Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales Of Woe In Ode – Series

Inchcock’s Visit to Doctor Frazakerly

My Most Memorable Visit To The GP, Ever!

My regular GP was 82-year-old Doctor Foley,
Who I rarely needed to call and see,
I went this time with blood in my pee,
I arrived and logged in with Nurse Emily…
Who said there a locum today, Doctor Frazakerly,
I waited my turn, reading a magazine called Jamboree,
The semi-naked girls in it surprised but sated me.

Emily called out, “Next patient, the Doctor is free!”
I entered the surgery of Dr Foley,
Doctor with pipe tobacco on his chest greeted me,
Told him my problem, “Lay on there, we’ll have a see…”
“Blimey,” he said, You’ve got a little one just like me!”
Hmm? Methought, this could get somewhat tacky?

He took a long time examining Little Inchie,
Should I make a dash now to get free?
I liked his gossip, though, familiar words, not snotty,
He swore a bit and declared his love of Notts Country,
So we spoke a while and assessed recent results in football?

Got me off the bench, telling me he used to live in Dundee,
Got me to strip to the waste… “Does he fancy me?”
The stethoscope was utilised, breath in, out for me…
Blood pressure taken told me to provide some wee…
My wee-weeing, he said he needed to see…
Came with me the WC…
The flow was bloodless and trouble-free.

He examined things again, we returned to the surgery,
Checked out my piles and then the boil on my knee,
He was pleasantly taking his time unctuously,
Check the lungs, tapping and chatting away cheerfully,
He cleaned his pipe, refilled it and said with some glee…
“You’re a delivery driver?” Showing his dedication and coactivity…
He wanted to do a grope test, for Hernias? I did agree…

He took his time while mentioning the new Notts County goalie,
Told me the East stand price is going up to 1/3d (5½p)
Eyed in my earholes, checked sight on the card, Blimey!
Thorough? I’ve been in here for about an hour and forty,
That’ll make me popular; I may get a thump, certainly vulgarity…
From the other patients, they’ll be going looney!
Getting dressed when all done, he even helped me!
Thanked him and left; I didn’t wait around… I did flee…
Missing trouble with the patients, homeward in haste I was bound!

I rushed straight back to the house, and my fiancee,
Got halfway there… I’d left the bike outside Dr Foley…
I wailed like a banshee!
Annoyed at my stupidity!

Part Of The Inchcock True Life Make Them Laugh Series

Inchcock’s Analysis of the Accifauxpas and Whoopsies 4th day on the trot!

In Regrettably Execrable, Atrocious Rhyme

Wednesday: Accifauxpas & Whoopsiedangleplopitis were with me again this morning, but I wasn’t surprised after three or four days of this.

But I had some natters, very pleased with this!

Even had some brighter periods; these were bliss!

AMAZON COCK-UPS

Well, no, they haven’t been delivered. Semi-panic!
Another Amazon cock-up, like the Titanic!
I rang Warden Julie, her reaction was fantastic,
She checked Winchester Court, not there,
Rang me back, how altruistic!

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA TWO & THREE

Most confusing. Is this a trick?

AMAZON ACCIFAUXPA AGAIN

Ungle-Clomp: thought about it… thud!

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Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was calm with me, as I took this photo,
Came out good for me, I celebrated with a Lemoncello,
Seeing the result, I felt a bit less of a Bozzo,
I gave myself a virtual pat on the back… Bravo!

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Encouraged, I took the view of the end car park.

ACCIFAUXPAS!

Took the picture, closed the window, then things got blurrier…
I noticed two tellurians, fell backwards, Clunk! Landed with a whimper,
But no damage and I didn’t lose my temper…
Just the back pulled, so no need to get schmaltzier!
Managed to get back up on my own, now I felt smugger!
The victim being poor old Back-Pain-Brenda…
A Codeine 30g, a mug of tea, and I soon felt a little betterer!

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

The blood pressure was not good to be blunt,
But I was not overwrought,
Things would have been worserer…
If it had read nought! Hehe!

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INSTANT FATIGUE!

With the recent days’ hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m at end of my candleflame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, then energy I can reclaim…

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

With the recent day’s hassle and bother, it’s been a game,
Wearying, tiring, frustrating, but I do not raim,
But no more could be done, I’m on the end of my candle flame,
Rest, peaceful sleep… yes, sleep, that’s now my aim!
I’ll have a nod for an hour or so, will my aim be lame?

Got some nosh made, and me oh my,
Gorgeous tasting it was too… now for some shuteye!

NO PROBLEM SLEEPING THIS TIME!
I whoofed it down like Bruno from Popeye!
Cleaned the plate with bread, wiped it dry!
Put the TV on, though now I wonder why,
Within minutes it was wakefulness, good-bye!.

4 HOURS LATER, A CONCERNED CARER WOKE ME UP

ACCIFAUXPAS!

I realised it must be the night when the gal gave the medication,
Warfarin included a night only application…
I felt a touch of creeping self-derision…
At the dementia-made confusion and elision,
The Thought Storm started; is reality really an illusion?
The gal gave me a little chinwag, that helped my self-derision,
Making the Thoughts Storms absquatulation.

She didn’t take the waste bags on her way out,
Not nowt to worry about…
Cause I gave the toe a stubbing, that did make me shout!
That, I could have done well without!

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SURPRISE!

The Dettol arrived, that Amazon said I’d already had,
Which was something that didn’t make me sad,
What does, happened at Concentration camps & Stalingrad,
Many things make me mad, but they are too myriad!.

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The photo that I took earlier,

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WAS I RIGHT?

I made this graphic and posted it, before the Brexit Fiasco,
Before the masses voted for us to leave the Euro,
Sure enough, that’s just what we did, so long ago…
Some were full of joy, expecting things to improve, full of gusto,
Just look at us now, though…,

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WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP

A belated Accifauxpa!

Well, more selection of Whoopsies really,

Milk from the fridge, I knocked over the banoffee,
It fell onto the floor and broke, after hitting my knee!
Got down to clean it up, could I get back up?
I’m used to this, and did it all unemotionally,
Well, apart from the usual trepidity…
Getting back on my feet was painful, a pity,
Cause I stubbed my toe as well, that was shitty!
Then dropped the bloody milk bottle, what a whoopsie!
Cleaned up the mess again, expecting a satanophany!
Instead, I banged my elbow on the drawer, and writ this ditty!

A Long Hobble to the Doctors – Guess who forgot to take his camera?

I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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

BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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

Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.

Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

Puggleclumpdimwit!

Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me £280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Number One – The Bladder

I begin with Little Inchies Bladder; I think I used all my luck up for the rest of my life around 1989. I got a hernia from lifting the bins at Hero Drinks at Kegworth, went in to have the Hernia Repaired, which they did immediately, putting me in the Men’s Surgery in Ward 19.

When I woke up, and they told me how lucky I had been! And they were right! When they went in with the laser and camera (Yes, I know… how the heck did get all that down Little Inchy you were going to ask, weren’t you? Well, I don’t know, I was blissfully asleep all the way through the operations!) The Consultant carried on; they found cancer in the bladder, which showed up on the mini laser camera, and being as they had all the same tools needed for the hernia, they burnt it out straight away! But my bladder capacity is reduced by 50%. Fair enough, I thought, thank you!

That brought a smile to my face! But the man wouldn’t let me kiss him. Hahaha!

He added that they would remove the catheter and bag from Little Inchy for me in a short while.

An Auxhilary nurse on her own arrived to do it. The poor gal was a bag of nerves and started to pull it out without bleeding it enough first. I asked her to stop and bleed it a bit more… the gal was shaking, bless her.

Above my ward was Prince Charles come in to have his tennis elbow looked at. The staff earlier were disgusted; the hospital had emptied the ward above me. I could hear them moaning about patients being put into a corridor!!! And set two nurses and a Sister on duty, 24/7 for the duration of the Prince’s visit.

Back to the beside:

A sudden, unbelievably loud screech/scream burst out from a nurse. I think, “Look, look, it’s Princess Di coming in!” At this, everyone who could move did so over to the window to look down at Di and her (they told me later) the armed protection officers, as they got her in through a fire door to avoid the press waiting, with cameras at the main front door!

Most unfortunately for me, the young nurse was amongst the Royalists who stampeded to get a view of Lady Di – and pulled the catheter out, catching it with her foot, I assume, as she rushed for her Royal treat!

So, I was with blood spraying up like a fountain, and covering me the bed, clothes and floor… Which the nurse spotted a minute or two later, and she came to me in a panic and crying at what she’d done! Sobbing her heart out, she was! Other staff arrived, the poor young lass couldn’t stop crying, and eventually, things got sorted.

A ranking nurse joined us and started to tear a strip off of the Axhilary nurse; I don’t know why, (Well, I do, I felt terrible for her), but I said; “No, it wasn’t her fault, I turned to see what the fuss was and pulled it out…” I’m sorry I said that now, cause for the next two days, my name was mud with nurses!

The first wee I took with the catheter out, shot forth as if from a fireman’s hose, bounced back from the walls – and I kid you not, left an imprint of my body on the back wall, with blood around it!

I’ve wandered off the plot here, haven’t I?

Sorry, back to the chinwag with the bladder fun…

Inchcock Gerry: Why do you have days when you don’t want to wee-wee, then go bad at it, mate?

Bladder Inchock: Why? It’s obvious, innit? Anyway, I don’t want to confabulate!

Inchcock Gerry: But for two days, you’ve flowed freely, been considerate?

Bladder Inchock: Humph!

Inchcock Gerry: What’s up? I’ve been taking in the extra fluid. Now it must be gallons you hydrate?

Bladder Inchock: That bloody surgeon lasered me; no wonder I can’t concentrate and urinate!

Inchcock Gerry: You should be glad, freed of death! A bit of pain, indeed you can tolerate?

Bladder Inchock: Listen clever-clogs, weeing for me, is variable, strangulate, freeflow, then it may stagnate!

Inchcock Gerry: What? I make sure water does circulate…

Bladder Inchock: I have pain too, do you appreciate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I can only speculate!

Bladder Inchock: I send you messages beforehand, admittedly just a few seconds at times, but you also had cancer on my prostate!

Inchcock Gerry: Oh, that’s my fault too, is it? I did ruminate.

Bladder Inchock: I hate talking to a thicko like you – why didn’t you become a graduate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I was uneducated and got a job cleaning the sluicegate…

Bladder Inchock: Sod off! You were chasing girls on yer one rollerskate!

Inchcock Gerry: Times were bad back then…

Bladder Inchock: Other people Inchy, have a toilet inside, not going out into the backyard, and having to wait…

Inchcock Gerry: Trust you to be irritable as you postulate…

Bladder Inchock: Ha! So now you accuse me of having irritable bowel syndrome as you orate?

Inchcock Gerry: I’ve no idea what I’m doing talking to a bladder?

Bladder Inchock: You’d better shut up then cause you’re making me madder!

Inchcock’s Tips & Advice – In Ode

They incarcerate the wealthy youngsters here now, aged only 50, a pity,
Cause with my handicaps, now I’m not so nifty,
Then there’s my ticker, neuropathy, deafness and cecity,
But I’m not jealous, bothered or show any causticity,
I have Whoopsidangleplops, Accifauxpas and await the next atrocity,
To survive in here, you must not show any mordacity,
Indeed, you must forget to display any animosity!

Anyone arriving wishing to survive will find the tips and advice in ode below, of some value, I hope… Good Luck!

WHAT TO EXPECT, DO AND SURVIVE

Put to the back of your mind, hopes, plans or anything ambitious,
With leaking windows… it helps to know about being amphibious,
If you are old or ill, some of the Carers are delicious!
Get in with them for any chance of being auspicious!
Resist doing anything whatever that could be audacious!
Make sure you cannot be considered cretaceous,
For depressions in here are somewhat enormous,

No matter what you do or say, it’ll be classed as contentious,
Don’t ever mention the balcony’s winds being blusterous,
Or not being able to hear the fire alarm being hazardous,
Cause they’ll fit you a pillow shaker alarm, it’s not desirous,
It runs on Wi-fi, the false alarms are regular and continuous,

Advice for the intercom and heaters are both contradictious,
Understanding them, you need to be intelligent and perspicacious,
Act a thicko with thick skin, should certainly be advantageous,
One benefit, mind, if you are ill enough, the nurses are curvacious!
You’ll be too old, so no opportunities to try to get amorous!

Contemptuousness and sarcasm seem to be contagious,
Another thing, silence can prove somewhat meritious,
Forget about being doing right and being conscientious,
Best to concentrate, on just staying alive and conscious,

Faux pas and Whoopsiedangleplops, try to keep uncomplicitous
Tending towards being garrulous can be jeopardous,
To anyone not wanting to be sneered at by those sequacious,
Never show signs of being boisterous,
Best to stay looking bored and innocuous,
They like it that way, and when you get on the wrong bus!

No need to worry if you are regularly flatuous,
I assure you that affliction affects 90% of us!
If the nurse calls cause your bottom’s furunculous,
Grit your teeth, and try to look hebetudinous!
Try not to overdo the acting humorous,
Never gossip about anything calumnious!
Or you may find yourself considered complicitous!

Part Of Inchcock’s Make Em Laugh-In-Ode Series

Inchcock Ode To Saturday

I’d hoped that today would be something of a breakthrough…
The end of two days of Accifauxpas & Whoopsidangeplops, too!
Although the cock-ups today have been less, by a few,
And my panics, worries, I have managed to subdue,
The expectancy of more bother dwells in every sinew!
And the Thought Storms still rage; it’s a mental stew!

The postman called, told me that £10.50 postage was due,
A parcel from Amazon, underpaid, so it must be by you!
Well, that’ll leave me with little monetary residue…
It was only a jug of sauce too – Hickory smoked barbecue,
It cost about a tenner, for Amazon’s revenue!…
Now I’ve paid £20 quid plus for it, should I sue?
I’ll get it wrong, whatever I try to do…
Amazon, double the cost, so much for their value!

I sometimes wish that I was in Timbuktu,
I wish I still had my beloved Justy, a Suburu,
I wished I’d learnt how to play the didgeridoo,
I’m glad I bought diabetic socks, made of bamboo,

I wish I had less bother when taking a poo-poo!
I wish it wasn’t so painful when using the loo,
Taking a leak so often is another issue…
Haemorrhoids are bleeding, well, that’s what they do,
Always with a mess to clean from the residue,

Still, I’ve got over my last tumble well, Phew!
I like to think I’m a man of virtue,
I should look up what it means, I ought to,
Peripheral Neuropathy problems continue,
As the Doctor said, ‘There’s nothing we can do!’

Enough of this self-pity and feeling blue!
Time to cheer up… I know, I’ll put on my pink tutu?
Make a mug of Glengettie, it’s made my Typhoo,
No time left to be depressed at this venue…
Contentment, hopes, laughter, I shall imbue,
Next week, flue jab, dentist and Audio clinic too!
I hope I get to them on time, when due…
Note to self: depression you must discontinue!

How, you ask? Well, let’s have a review…
Imagine you’re out in the sunshine at the bayou,
If you were there, what’d you like to do?
I told myself, have a bowl of jelly or Irish stew…
Then have a pipe of Erinmore mixture, honeydew,
I answered myself, that’s daft, baccy’s been barred for you!
Jelly’s too sweet, and Irish stew is fattening for too!

I was getting fed up with myself; an argument was due…
So, can I eat yoghourt or tofu,
But I ignored myself and withdrew…
Went off to the Porcelain Throne set-to…
Now, if the end to this ode confuses you,
It does me, too… am I missing a screw?
Thank You!

Part Of The Inchcock Today Make-Em-Laugh Ode Series

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