Odes – Page 10 – Inchie Today

Inchcock Today: Diary, photos mostly, with the odd ode

I’d like to start with an embarrassment. Last night Caring Carer Julie came to sort me out. Julie, being the kind soul who got my pamphlets sent to HRH & Billum, in America all done for me. It wasn’t until the gal had left that a terrible, sickening thought came to me…

I can’t recall paying her for the packages and postage! Guilt runs through me, now. After all the time and efforts she’s spent helping me out as well. I tested my Vascular Dementia affected memory… I fear the worst and am pretty confident I have not paid my dues to Julie. If she might read this… Please, forgive me, and please remind me on the next call… Please! Sorry! ♥

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Photographicalisations From Yesterday

Morning Chest Way Car Park

I can’t remember when I took either picture,
It’s light, must have been late morning, I gather…
Off to the Porcelain Throne, I did jaunter…
All went well, no mess or blood to encounter,
Realised I’d left the walking stick in the shower,
The wet room I did reenter…
Went back… the funk I’d made I did encounter!.

I did take a photo of the car park, but as regularly occurs, for some reason: It didn’t make it onto the SD disc? As with the photograph I took of meal yesterday.

See the photo on the left? A fine example of when Inchcock fumbles about trying to put eye drops in.

I’ve found the missing snap of Sunday’s lunch though…or was it Mondays? Erm, yes, Monday’s! I’m nearly positive it was… I’ve taken to the Iceland beef pasties, a few onions and potatoes in it too.

Sunset photos, again of the beautiful blue-purple hue. There is something about this type of sky that makes me remember from about 1665, I’ll try that again, 1965. Hehe! TA manoeuvres on Exmoor. Each night then, the skies looked like these do. Nothing remarkable or exciting happened, but I did adore the view… Oh, no, we were needed (RAMC field unit) once, to dig out a fragment splinter from a Norwegian squaddies belly. Har-har!

I worked diligently on the blogging. Making more mistakes and losing aeons of time in finding out what I’d done wrong and fumbling bumbling about to correct things. I still don’t know how I kept getting into a pickle, or how I got out of them.

Vascular Dementia Doris and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I imagine. Well, I know it was them. Hehe!

Esther arrived to do the washing

And I got an ear-bashing…
For wearing the wrong slippers, not hearing…
Buying things I don’t need, that she is cleaning,
Talking to me she walks away in a twinkling…
I hear her talking… babble not the words, so enraging!
She demanded a mug of tea, so I got brewing…
Esther rarely stopped still, to do her chinwagging,
She checked the kitchen drawers, foraging…
Her criticisms were ever-burgeoning…
The constant talking was very confusing,
Words muttered from the other room, absquatulating,
I got a few words in… well, I was attempting…
She even spoke through the door, as I was urinating!
Even when at times my mind was raging and racing…
Struggling to understand her, patience shortening…
Yet she’s such a character, I do find her engaging,
Never bored when is aboard, I’m not complaining…
It’s just that she sets my mind trampolining!

Sunsetting shots from the kitchen window

This is the new TV remote, that Esther sorted out for, and told me to order from Amazon. Why do I put this in the blog? I’ve lost the old one again, which I found after getting this one! Sad, innit?

Evening Carer Julie arrived, full details near the top of this page (photo). This is the first picture I took of my American gem, Julie. As you can see, I was a bit shaky at the time. Shaking Shaun! But Julies attention made everything feel so much betterer! ♥

I thought I’d update you are my mission to get three of the green house icons in the YourArea magazine. I’ve never got more than one, in months of doing them daily. Ah, well!

Off in Search in Sweet Morpheus…

After five nights of forever waking up, but fortunately nodding off pretty quickly again… but not for long, the waking has been so often, regular, at times five minutes between them! I’m even thinking of seeing the Doctor about it… What am I saying… see the Doctor… Hahaha! I can’t even remember what she looks like, it’s been that long since I saw… erm… what is her name now? It’ll come to me… or not.

I nodded off quickly tonight. Although the waking ups were there all the time once more, however, there was a lengthier time in between them. I reckon I only stirred about five or six times. Which sounds bad enough, but was far less than the preceding few evenings. I am expecting now I’ve said that something else will take over in annoying me… it usually does!

Good Morning

Up like a lark, 25 press-ups, a bit of shadow boxing, ten minutes on the weights, lifted…

Well, alright then. I woke and needed a wee-wee, as I got up to catch my balance, I ended up on my bum on the floor! This released the urine, burst some of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and the jammie-bottoms pulled against Little Inchies fungal lesion, and the blood flowed! Not a good start to the day at all! But did it bother me? Yes, it did! Krugnangles! The next two hours or so I spent cursing, spitting, feeling sorry for myself, fed-up, medicationalisationing, cleaning things up, and generally at a low ebb!

I’m just so glad there is no CCTV in the flat. Because my limping to the wet room and medical box, walking as if I’d mucked myself, to hold in the blood and pee, was most embarrassing. I shouldn’t really tell you of these things, but it is a fine example of what may happen to the whippersnappers in later life, and how to contend with it? I’ll tell you how…

After the natural first reaction, as with me this morning; you can always find that something is going to temporarily improve your outlook, and often does.

Tips, Warnings & Advice For Whippersnappers

In my case, after medicating things, I had a shave… with zero nicks or cuts! Which hasn’t happened for months since the stroke. A positive there! Please read these tips, or you’ll kick yourself for absorbing this advice in fifty years or so. Be prepared! Know what you might have to contend with; I wish someone had warned me!

Next, forget all about what has happened, and make a brew of Glengettie tea. (With Vascular Dementia Doris, I have no choice other than to forget things, so, another positive there, see?)
Of course later on something will remind you… Little Inchie may start bleeding again, Arthur Itis may turn nasty with your knees, or Little Inchies fungal lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, may start to bleed again? (As they did for me) Just bad luck, that is!
After treating whichever ailment is in need of it, the old memory will fade again… it’s got its advantages as long as you look at it in the right way… which you will have forgotten by now.
Leaving the hot water (faucet) tap running, forgetting food is cooking, dropping something when you get Shaking Shaun on the job, toe-stubbing and walking into doorframes due to saccades, glaucoma, cataracts and stupidity, seem to be the most popular with me, currently.
Forgetting appointments and deliveries or if you had made an order at all, will play havok with your supplies situation. Combined with the substitutions from the supplier, you could well end up with four bottles of bleach, twelve (minimum) unliked cans of various substituted food in the cupboard, and no milk or bread… then I’m afraid the substituted can of processed pea and the mangled can of mulligatawny soup will just have to be tackled!

The state of the feet and ankles fair cheered me up a bit. Much better!

It was just bad luck when I stubbed my toe leaving the wet room. Humph!

The veins in the legs seemed to be all calmed down as well. See? Cheery news from the depths of depression! Not all good mind, Arthur Itis’s knees, and Shaking Shaun were both playing up. See that? Another positive there! If you are lucky enough to have so many complaints, illnesses, ailments etc., you will never get bored. Now, will you?

Got a brew of Glengettie made, and took this picture of the morning sky from the kitchenette window.

Yes… alright, I trapped my finger closing the window! It didn’t hurt, no bleeding, no scratches or bruising. Yet another positive! I suppose it depends on which way you look at it? For some reason, despite the painful awakening kerfuffle and pain, I’m feeling in good form. (Which must go some way to explaining Doris Dementia?

On with blogging until Carer Richard arrived. Lovely to have someone who is not in the rush-in-don’t-converse and off again standard. Going to make some cheesy spuds today, I’ll make some extra for the lad to try.

I’ll make a start on them, times getting on…

Pictures; If they come out alright, on the next blog!

Change of plans – someone just called to tell me there is a parcel down in reception for me. I was sure I had not got anything ordered. I thanked the lady and hobbled down to collect my surprise delivery from the lobby.

When I got down, there wasn’t a parcel for me, but were for numbers 82 and 74. Bless the lady, I think she got confused with the numbers. Got back to the flat, and the baked cheesy potatoes were already cooked. Blimey, they will hopefully keep for Richard and not spoil. I can put some in foil for him, then he can either eat them here or take them home. I do hope they keep for a couple of hours. Can’t put them in the fridge until they have cooled properly.

I’ll get this finished and posted off now. I’ll use the late photographs in tomorrows world-famous Inchcock Today blog. I just hope my hoard of fans doesn’t mind. Still, they are both decent sorts.

TTFNski, each.

Inchcocks Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4⅜

Nor Human Traffickers!

Local News Snippets in Odes – Issue 4⅜

What do you think has caused this stabbing?
The first thing that comes to mind involves drug taking,
Perhaps it could be protection racketeering?
Lot’s of affluent students in Nottingham educating?
Of course, with kids, there’ll be sex rampaging,
And students getting drunk, meths drinking?
Which is more interesting than wordsmithing!
No doubt greed, jealousy, drugs or loathing!

They say it’s the twelfth fire on this estate…
The third in two months, a dodgy state,
Most on sites involving freight…
Or waste, recycling bases, what does this connotate?
I’ll let you know if I find out owt at a later date…

The gal had been taking drugs into prison, for hubby,
Well, they are not married; they met at a drugs orgy,
Making the prisoner an awful lot of money…
Well, for highs, they both have an affinity…
The Judge showed a lot of affability…
‘Go home and give your children a big kiss?
That sounds a bit naughty and cheeky?
From a Judge? What the hell is this?
I don’t want to sound finicky…
Does he want her to supply him cocaine or a kiss?
Mayhaps on the day the Judge was tipsy?

Just to show you how I’m keeping up with my usual luck in the gambling stakes. Humph!

Well, another Constabulary mystery?
Whatever has occurred? Was it unsightly?
Something vicious, frighteningly?
Eight police vehicles attended… Getaway!
Murder, terrorists or? What unpleasantry?

Bank robbers hiding? A car with no MOT?
Folks signing into their own homes to have a brew of tea?
One more police car, and there’ll be none free!
Trouble at Mill here, I can see!

I read these figures apprehensively…
I sense a Government con here; we’ll see…
Corona Virus, all about money, money…
They’ve upped tax, food prices, and to me…
That’s what they wanted to do, disagreeably!
Help kill off the NHS… do you agree?
There are more folks with the virus around me…
Grenfell, why’s no one been punished, Lordy Me!
Tories get voted in again! They get off scot-free?
Disgusting! Absobloodylutely!

Her killer doesn’t want to be involved in the inquest of his wife, who he murdered? But you would like to know the outcome?

And he’ll be Freed to Kill Again. I guarantee it! Knowing our Parole Board pillocks!

Scumballs!

I think that Lucifer is winning.

What’s the plan, God? Got any?

Pathetic PC sentencing here, methinks?
The legal system, I believe, stinks!
Scared to death of sentencing Muslims?
I can understand that; I come from the slums…
The future scares me…
From terrorism, gangs and every bent MP,
Today’s youngsters will never be free!

At least he only threatened to kill!

That’s the spirit, Judge. Lock ’em up! Seven years equates to about three methinks. With good behaviour?

A Cruel Tax!

I am so delighted to report on this sentence.

A jury of six men and six women took two-and-a-half hours to return a unanimous guilty verdict of manslaughter on Lawson Byrd, who deliberately caused the death of 19-year-old Gianne Obafial.
But they cleared him of the more severe charge of murder. During a two-week trial, Crown Court heard how the defendant, also 19, drove at and then over Mr Obafial in Mercian Way and headed off up Abbey Street.
Giving evidence, Byrd claimed he had no intention of causing the fatal injuries his victim received. Instead, he told a jury he “panicked” after seeing ” a glimmer of metal” in the waistband of Mr Obafial’s trousers and thought it was a knife.

BOLLOCKS! If that had been true, he could have got back in his murder weapon and driven off! Judge Shaun Smith QC said: “Mr Byrd, you have been found guilty and criminally responsible for the death of Mr Obafial, but they have decided you did not intend to kill him or cause him really serious injury. The bullying toss-ball was sentenced to jail for 12 years for manslaughter.

Convicted murderers have got less. I’m tickled pink!

See what I meant above?

Spotted this on Facebook

Interestingly, I spotted the Meridian logo on his uniform. The same company that Nottingham Council uses and tend to my needs. There’s no getting bored with them. In the two months that I’ve been using them, they have failed to turn up six times. Twice coming after midday, which meant it was too late for me to take my medications… in case the evening Carer came. Hehehe!

On two occasions, they came late but early enough to allow me to take the prescriptions. My trouble… one of many, is having Vascular Dementia, and some days, I don’t realise if they are late, and my mind wanders off. Sad, but true! If someone was to contact me and let me know what’s going off, it would help. The other two times, no one came for the morning visit at all. I often wonder if I am being charged for it? However, and notwithstanding…

The Caring Industry is like the Security Guarding was when I worked for them. Under-staffed, underpaid, and so hectic you wouldn’t believe it! So, I can relate to the branch managers and the staffs’ frustrations. People not turning up and informing you ten minutes before their shift starts, and not showing at all! The good Carers are precious but have to cover all the time for a few. Just the same with the Guards. I have some really caring Carers who call on me, so patient and understanding. The industries are so competitive, with so many available, but none can be 100% reliable. What can they do? Charging more, thus paying higher wages, is a no-no for growth. Sacking bad time-keepers would be a pleasure for some managers, I know… but things would be worse then!

So, I have empathy and understanding of these problems. But that does not offer a solution, does it? Shame!

Luckily, I no longer have to struggle with those problems… nowadays I work to walk, do the ablutions, control my dementia, the eyesight failing with glaucoma, cataracts, and saccades all to be treated with a prospective up to 43 weeks to wait for the first

cataract to be done, the wait again for the other eye to be done. Hopefully, they will be using the Phacoemulsification method. I pray they might do both eyes lens replacements at the same time.

Then, glaucoma in both eyes as well needs to be sorted. (Eye drops only, I think?) Then the saccades in the right eye.

I’ll be getting my telegram from the Queen or King by the time I get around to having all these done and get to have an eye test done to get new lenses from the optician!

You can bet the dentist, DVT, or Cardiac appointments will come when I’m having the eyes done. That happened when I had the stroke; I went back to the bottom of the list. Hehehe!

I’ll just press blindly on!

The Nottingham Lads News Snippets in Ode

Inchcock Today: Cheesy Potatoes Made!

The highlight of the day. At long last, after several months, I took a risky chance and made some cheesy baked potatoes! I’d missed these for so long, I risked it. The last two days, the nerve-end failures had much fewer. Glad I did now, and I got away with it! Aware of the dangers that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete may impose on me…

Awakening, after the fifth horrible nights’ sleep, the urge for a mug of Glengettie was irresistible. I hobbled into the kitchenette with Metal Mickey and got the kettle on; the dim view had beauty to it, so I fetched the ‘on-its-last-legs’ Canon camera. Took a shot…

I’m lucky to have such a panoramic view,
Most times, the outcoming photo will do,
Today the Peripheral Neuropathy was on cue,
I got a decent photo, of the sky, with a purple-blue hue,
I was feeling in reasonably good knick, too!

Made the tea, good enough for me,
Later, the ablutions, well I needed a pee,
Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding free…
So I did the ablutioning, shaving carefully…
Amount if cuts none, although tiny nicks, three,
Nasal spray, eye drops, cleaned the lesion… yucky!
Medicated, dressed, it was a bit of a malarkey…
Finished the jobs, sanitarily…
Along came the Iceland delivery!

I soon got them in and into the kitchenette. The potatoes they had delivered actually looked fresh. So, I selected three large ones to use for the cheesy potatoes.

Put the three spuds in the oven…

Got the rest of the food put away…

Again, they had no Leicester Cheese, shame, but they substituted some imitation extra-strong cheddar, so at least I could make the cheesy pots up in a while.

The door chime rang out its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. It was Josie to tell me she’d just had a call from her Niece, who is going to take her out for a meal today. Bit of a disappointment…

I’d just added the mushrooms, tomatoes and chestnuts to Josie’s stew on the stove hob as well! Humph! Never mind, I said she could have it tomorrow. She seemed happy enough with that.

The Carer arrived, the same gal as yesterday. So no humour or nattering. She took the waste bag with her, though. A tablet short in the pot she provided. A Beta Blocker or Codeine. I assumed I’d dropped it; she got another one.

I carried on with prepping the fodder. I got on with getting Josie’s chilli ready in between.

Got the pots out of the oven and the cheese, sauces, BBQ seasoning, vinegar, BBQ sea salt, and bin nearby. Ready to scrape out the flesh from the tubers into the basin to bash the hell out of them with the seasonings added…

Which went amazingly well, no shakes, nerve-end didn’t go off, and only one tiny nick on the finger. No dropping of anything at all… oh, yes, I did drop the BBQ seasoning pot; don’t know I forgot that, cause it landed on my left foot and rolled to the end of the kitchen. I took a snap of it below.

I set the timer, took it to the computer, and worked on the ‘Why’ blog. I soon needed the Porcelain Throne, so off I trundled to the wet room. All went well. Washed and out to check on the spuds in the kitchenette oven (That’s where they were, Hahaha!).

The peas were ready, so I got them on the plate with the sliced yellow tomatoes.

Sister Jane rang, and we had a chinwagging session.

Got the spuds out; I must say they looked good to me. Then, as the plate and tray layout progressed, I was impressed with my culinary performance today… Smug-Mode-Adopted!

By gum, it was grand!

Individual content ratings:
Cheesy Baked Potatoes – 9/10
Yellow Tomatoes – 8/10
Garden Peas – 9/10
Beef Pastie – 8/10

I spent many hours on the odeing for the blog. Visited Facebook WordPress Reader and had t nip to the wet room again, for the low point of the day – Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding yet again. I’d not noticed earlier with the excitement of getting a cheesy potatoes meal made without any severe hassle, finding it tasted so good and talking with Jane, that the blood had congealed with the Protection Pants. (A memory, something I had to do or something like that just fluttered into my head, then left?

So I was in the wet room for an awfully long time, cleaning and medicating. And this is the most painful of all of the ailments to medicate. I’d like to shout ‘Argh!’ But I won’t, I did a bit of that at the time. Hahaha! But today was still a better than usual one, and a Sunday too; usually not a lucky day. Although, I reserve the right to change my mind if it starts bleeding again. Hehe!

I was feeling a bit tired now, so I sat down with a water bottle and turned on the TV. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and was woken by the evening Carer coming early (Not that it matters). On to the Computerisationing again.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: HERBERT

22:20hrs: Sounds like a vacuum, droning noises from above. (Not from Herbert, too distant-sounding) If I can hear it sufficiently to keep me awake, I feel sorry for anyone with decent hearing trying to get off to sleep! I think it got to Herbert above me because he started tapping and banging then. Kept it up on and off until nearly midnight!

If you don’t mind, a few words being spoken to you?
My mind wandered a little then, fretting and with Deja Vous…
Because getting to sleep, I just couldn’t do…
The droning noise’s sound got louder, persistent they grew!

The Thought Storms kicked off, as they tend to…
The eyes, the left knees arthritis, appointments overdue,
Silly thoughts, like should I give my testicles a shampoo?
Sleep was unavailable, so do I have a shower. or catch the flu…
Turn the TV on? Get something to eat? That sounded neat,
Yes, I was going a smidgeon barmy, yes, it must be true…
I nodded off, and after an hour of kip… I woke in a mind-stew!
I waddled to the Porcelain Throne, messy job, Oh, the phoo!

Then Carer Richard arrived, the medications to sort and do…
Brought me two postage packets; I said thanks, bless you!
Issued the medications, and before he said his Depardieu…
We had a little natter, or a few…
I told Richard of last nights noisy hullabaloo…
That ensured me no sleep, and hitherto…
It must have been loud; I heard it too…

In seconds, Richard had worked it through…
Gale force winds had all night long blew…
As it happens, they are still blowing now, too!
I thanked him for settling the mystery issue…
Slipped him some treats, as he said his adieu!

Richard to the rescue again!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcocks Odes to Why? Part Two

♫ Why does my heart go on beating? ♫

♫ Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause, she doesn’t love me anymore, Yes…
Why do the birds go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love…
I wake up in the mornin’, and I ponder,
Why sod all is the same as it was…
I can’t understand; no, I can’t understand
How life goes as crappy as it does…
Why does my mechanical heart go on beating?
Why are these eyes of mine fading,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
It ended when you said, “Sod-off, goodbye!”
I often wonder, apart from Little Inchie, why? ♫

Why Am I So Soft & Gullible?

Even as a young man, I was presentable…
But, I’ve always been jealous and resentful,
Gals thought I was a standby rather than a desirable…
But my wallet was in demand… and easily emptiable!
My heartstrings were unendingly detachable!
Why these failures? It is seemingly not diagnoseable.

My hopes and dreams were terribly squashable,
I’ve always been a soft touch and deceivable…
Looking back, I find it hardly believable…
I’ve gone from cute and cuddlable,
To a failure, always, who’s always defeatable!

Thus, it must have been in my past life…
I must have lived a terrible life…
Not like this one full of strife…
Bet I was cruel, took many a wife…
I should come back a newt or other pondlife!

Why Are Liars, Usually Politicians?

Well, that’s obvious! To keep themselves out of trouble!
To save them from bursting their own financial bubble?
They overclaim all expenses by at least a tankful…
They welcome Covid cause there’s no time to be able…
For anyone to inspect their expenses table!

Why Have Aliens Not Landed Yet?

Oh, bejabbers, they may well have already; it’s verifiable!
They beam down airily…
So no spaceships to see,
So their landings are not watchable…
They interbred with the powerful, starting with Blair…
This may sound to you ununderstandable…
Their original plan was to make us all vilifiable!

Intending to use mind control, somnambulistically!
Naturally, they all mind-melt and speak multilingually,
They soon spotted how humans communicate clumsily…
Using missiles, tanks, napalm, and mercenary armies…
Killing ourselves off with starving… very silly!
We are killing ourselves off, although it will be bloody!

We tell our people not to smoke or use a narghilly…
Not to eat fatty or sweet food, willy-nilly…
We do have variability but very little tranquillity…
We intercommunicate bolshy, cruelly, not friendly?
We lie, mislead, cheat, mostly circumlocutorily,
Many aliens planet folks have visited Earth, spookily,
It’d be a lot more, counting the imaginary!

Why Are More People Going Potty?
Answer: Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras

Alto-Ego-Inchy: No doubt about the answer to this question…
But it’s a long one, which calls for honesty and a confession…
I’ve studied this query for years; it became an obsession,
Since the Roman invasion to England’s 1867–1869 recession
I was in the body of a chap called Adrian…
Wall builder, I think, a stonemason…

The effect of Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras, combined,
Control our allotted specimen, usually a human,
Occasionally a half and half, unknown, with a warped mind,
But we can handle and master humans, aliens of any kind.
I am the truth, reality… I rarely speak what’s on my mind…

We Alto Egos go on for years, the insane is our possession,
When the human snuff it, we move on to Sherlock Holmesian…
To torment another losing it, sad foccinaucinihilipilification,
Alto-Egos, Id’s, and Chakras rule we’re not Antichristian,
We are not Czechian, Australian, Midlothian or Arizonian!

We roam the Universe to torment the deserving,
Deserving meaning one demented, their mind flailing,
Fair enough, we do some deducing, defacing and coercing…
But only of the brain, physical problems are not out kind…
Like with Inchcock, no wonder he’s going out of his mind!
I’m actually getting to feel sorry for him, I find…
But don’t tell anyone, it’s a bit embarrassing…

We Three unknown, misunderstood missionaries, are King…
Humans will never understand us unless they are tripping,
Our tasks, as laid out for us, to stop anyone helping…
Give pain, frustration, depression with maintaining…
If noise bothers Inchcock, we make sure it is piercing!
If he leaves the tap running… this is called interfacing…
We keep him busy with something else; I can’t help laughing!
Then the hot water will be cold, so no showering…
Little things like this make out job so satisfying!

I fang You!

Part of the Inchies: Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series.

Inchcock Today: Briefly with Political Ode

Maybe through the joys of ageing and dementia?
Gone are my days of romance and adventure,
Adventure is now trying a chilli-burger…
Pleasure is wee-weeing, not spraying my attire,
Porcelain Throneing can be a lot bloodier…
I can no longer do the Twist or Conger!
One time, I was known as a keen jogger…
Ageing and ailments, each can be a cruel bugger!?

Wednesday 26th January 2022

After a few hours of waking and drifting off again repeatedly, I rose gingerly, caught my balance, and sensed the warm damp feeling from the Protection Pants area. (Humph!) So, the first mission was to grab Metal Mickey and hobble to the wet room. Which I did.

The normal suffrage of pain getting things cleaned up and medicated. Little Inchies fungal lesion had bled well. But at least I caught it before the blood had dried and gone hard… it’s always agony getting the PP’s off and reopening the lesion if that happens. So, despite the pain, I was moving toward a chirpy outlook on things. (Which in itself is a rarity, nowadays, but it was not to last for long!).

Had a wash and shave, did the teggies, and got dressed. I’ve got a food delivery coming today… I think, from Ocado. It came shortly but had not supplied the veg that Sister Jane wanted, “Humph”.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: Into the kitchen… to find I’d left the oven on and the cold water tap running last night! The self-loathing and foul language instantly began with a venom that surprised me. So I hate myself that much? Well, yes, I suppose I do? Or maybe not… It’s just Vascular Dementia-Doris that causes these problems that I really hate!

However, a couple of slices of luck did ease my self-denunciatory outbursts somewhat. At least it was the cold water tap, and there was no plug left in the sink, so no flooding! And there was no food in the oven to burn. So really, it was like a Semi-Whoopsiedangleplop? (I smiled writing that!)

Working on the blog. Carer Richard arrived. I did the BP checks, and Richard recorded them as the new instructions for the next three days. A great result, miles lower than yesterday.

Then the food… Hahaha!

Got the bags into the kitchen.

As you may know, I got some ridiculously overpriced Kenyan podded peas, a weakness of mine. Part baked cobs. Desserts and M&S mini potatoes. (I had some later, these were totally tasteless!) Cornish pasties, yellow and Natoora black tomatoes (Delicious!) Also, a new M&S product, Marmite rings

The meaty, tasty Natoora Tomatoes!

The bank-manager-upsetting Marmite Dinky Cheese Wheels from Marks & Spencers. The whole packet weighed only about 4 ounces!

Potato Rosti Cakes, I’ve not had these for years. Due to not being able to get into the M&S store basement food hall nowadays, so looking forward to trying these later in the week.

Snapped the end car park situation. The small red car was in Red Van’s parking spot in the hatched no parking zone. The red van is still in the proper parking area. It seems residents have decided to ignore the yellow lines altogether.

☎ I got a call from QMC (Queens Medical Centre), Ophthalmology Department. The lovely lady asked me if I could get in on Sunday, for my first consultation meeting with an Optometrist, regarding the Cataract operations. Blimey, this was a quick appointment, I thought!

Then when she said with it being on a Sunday (Next), the realisation dawned on me, as she said there would not be any transport provided for me. Getting a taxi with the three-wheeled walker was not practical. And the buses were scarcer on Sundays and weekends. She said okay when I explained my having Vascular Dementia and not being very mobile. She would inform them and make another appointment, but this may take a while. She’ll arrange a lift for me.

Two weeks since my referral. So I imagine I’ll go back to the end of the queue again now? Which is a smidge deflating. But, fingers crossed. 🤞

Even when, or if, the Cataracts are ever done, then the Glaucoma and Saccades need doing. Hopefully, the glaucoma treatment will involve only eye drops?

If I live long enough, it will be more challenging than ever every morning, then: The new eye drops, ear drops three times a day already and rubbing in the Phorpain gel into Arthur Itis knees, and Back-Pain Brenda twice a day minimum. Little Inchies fungal lesion medicationing, nasal sprays… Not to mention all the medications that the Carers may or may not arrive to issue me with. Or the BP taking and recording, temperature, pulse… Humph! Oh, dearie me! Haha!

Wrote during a moment of inspirationing!

Still, that’s enough of the good things…
For life is full of political hornswogglings…
Lies, deceit, and human trafficking!
Politicians, fiddling and grovelling…
Respect, empathy and compassion annulling,
Violence, hatred, mugging, knifing and brawling…
Life has become scary, frightening and appalling!

Politicians deceit, egotism, conceitedness and backpedalling,
Back-handed best friends, particularly Dominic Cummings!
With his pathetic excuses, lies and manoeuvrings…
His utter contempt, for the populace, the human beings…
Government full of fan-dangling, flannelling and fumbling!
Faltering, fearmongering, with self-profiting festering!

The voters ignored, workers let down, shortchanging!
They are good at covering-up disinformation orchestrating…
Duplicitous fibbing, cheating enshrouding, and suppressing,
Will they ever become open and honest? No, that’s dreaming!
You’d have more chance of murderer hanging, reinstating!
We will never see political honestly and reliability purging…
Could you imagine the truth of Cummings divulging?
For too long now, MPs morality has been haemorrhaging!

Then, there’s the Royal Let-Down!

He is loathed, detested, his actions despised…
Acting snotty about it, not very wise, he’s execrated,
It’s time the pompous, imperious brat was excoriated!
And the truth declared after it’s been traced!

He’s seeking a US jury trial, which may take a while,
He’ll not be treated as any rank and file…
The thought of special treatment brings up my bile…
I’m not saying he’s an ephebophile or paedophile…
But getting to the truth would be worthwhile,
Acting superior is inbred with Andrew; he’s no style…
Will we ever get to the truth – or am I being puerile?

Please enjoy,
Lightheartedly,
Some fiddledeedee…
Thrown in by me…
Can’t help it, you see…
I’ll have to flee,
Time for a wee-wee…
Then a mug of Glengettie tea!

Part of the Inchcock’s make them Laugh: In Ode Series