Inchcockski – Saturday 19th September 2020: Frustrations, irascibilities and Murphy’s law ruled today!

Saturday 19th September 2020

Italiano: Sabato 19 Settembre 2020

03:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee, worked my way out of the wreck of a recliner, and wobbled, without delay, to the awaiting wee-wee bucket. For a WUPT (Weak-Unwilling-Painless-Trickling) mode release. Went wearily to wash my hands, checked-out the PPs, no leakages at all last night. And with a semi-imitation, pretend Smug-Mode coming on, I wobbled along to the kitchen, to get the morning’s essentials sorted out, medications, Health Checks etc. and the most important, make a brew of tea. Haha! 

The dang chemist’s tablet packaging was still full of static; tablets had transferred from one pod to others, the pills were sticking to all sides as well (Static?). You should try opening these without some tablet or capsule shooting off somewhere, never to be seen again! No wonder I get confused and take the wrong ones. My thanks to Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Road, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, for the skilful way that they keep my interest and grumpiness alive, and give me something to moan about every month with their late, or incorrect disarrayed, can’t get at, misleading, crappily-packed confusing, mixed-up prescriptions pods. Bless ’em!

Gripe-over!

Sadly, the BP sphygmomanometer machine’s readings for the SYS had shot up again, to 167 now! I keep mentioning this high SYS and showing the photos to the various nurses who call on me, but luckily, it doesn’t seem to bother them much.

On the brighter side, the stick thermometer gave me a decent reading of the body temperature, 35°c, which is something at least that seems to be within the required limits. Hehe! Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and the need of another wee-wee arose.

I filled in the records sheet for the last one and this on the chart for the hospital, and trotted off to the wet room.

Once in there, after the wee-weeing was done, as so often happens, the Porcelain Throne use was called for.

A real hard to get going job again. The usual nudge of activity, then solid as a rock, so I got the crossword book out and sat in pain as things started to move so slowly, yet ended up with a rush? A right dollop of it, but of a distinctly different construction. I shan’t go into it. The tank had to be filled by hand twice, it needed to flushes before things disappeared down the hole. Tsk! I washed, and filled in the logs.

I got on the computer, and had to make a template first, then got on with updating yesterday’s blog, which went extremely well. There was a lot needed doing, but the ailments were all sparing in their intrusions.

Then I wanted to do some more Lies, Astonishing, Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas graphics. So got on CorelDraw… and what a farcicalness followed! I was uploading the finished graphics to WordPress, and somehow, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, as I selected the options, of course, I didn’t sense it, and I sent the whole folder to WordPress.

Of course, my accidentally trying to load 800 odd pictures at the same time was not my plan, and the programme froze with all sorts of messages coming up from the computer!

Fear was the main feeling at the time. I could not close the programme, the computer would not let me onto the web. I was stuck! After trying to keep calm and work out what could be done for ages, I gave up, and had to turn off the machine! Gawd, this scared me, I was sure that things would not work out right, and half expected the computer and or WordPress, to be knackered!

I didn’t, but I did feel like crying. I left the computer to cool down and let anything Norton might be doing in the background to finish, and had to pop back to the wetroom again for a wee-wee, worry, and stewing in self-pity session.

The wee-wee was one of the messy, VSWAO (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over) type. The cleaning up took me ages again. Some PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling) this time, meant fresh PP’s were needed also… and guess what happened as I tried to get the new ones on?

I lost my balance and tumbled over, hitting the already bruised stomach against the corner of the floor cabinet. Knocking things off of it! I did my best to keep my temper, as calmly as possible, IO picked up the knocked-over items, and got back to getting the PP’s on.

This time the 5&@^ing Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went in the other direction. Clouting the top of my right leg, on the feared sock-glide, and spot-on where the small furuncle was!

All this time, I was thinking about the computer problems, and my spirits sank, bile came from the stomach, and interest in everything just faded. So, I wasn’t precisely concentrating as I went to get through the doorway.

Yes, I stubbed my toe on the 3inch gap at the bottom of the door! Suicideworthiness! Claptickleisations! Gragnankles! and Cribblebogangonies! I’ve not felt as depressed, frustrated and worthless for years! But I still needed to know what the damage was with the computer, expecting the worst, I returned to have decker and turned back on my beloved Bang Olufsen.

Everything was working again. How? Why? I wasn’t really too interested in – just over-the-moon! A message from Norton came up, I didn’t understand it all, but it seems they had saved the day for me.

Of course, I wasn’t distraught. Ahem!

A new zest developed, I started singing Adam Faith, and Billy Fury songs as I at long last started doing this blog! Even the wee-weeing so often didn’t bother me, Yee-Ha! I did so far, then went on Facebooking catch-up, WordPress.

The day was well progressed now, after all the fussing about. I lost hours!

I made the nosh. Decent enough, a flavour rating of 6.5/10.

Nipped off for a wee-wee, which was of the CMA (Cloudy-Mini-Amount), added the leaf to the NHS log.

I washed-up the pots, took the medications, and then suffered the zemblanity of a sudden weariness like never before. I got settled down without a wash or any clothes on (sorry about that, it must have brought a horrendous image to your mind, perhaps of dying rhinoceros? Hahaha!) And just lay there, the mind storms having a free hand for hours, confusion when they stopped, mentally and physically drained, and eventually dropped of into a much-needed kip.

I woke up around midnight, feeling much better and perkier, in need of a wee-wee, of course.

Inchcocksi-Fri 18 Sept 2020: A most mephitic day: Grobbleknackercraps!

TFZer Family get together!

Friday 18th September 2020

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 18fed Medi 2020

03:25hrs: I reawakened, passed wind (risky that was), listened to the damned noise of The Hum’, I thought I could also hear music, accepted a message from the bladder that I need a wee-wee.

Then realised that I’d had just had… wait for it… Six Hours Sleep!

But the wee-weeing must take priority, so I wobbled the fearsomely-flabby-stomached body from the recliner, caught my balance, and off to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). I took a VSWAO (Viciously-Spraying-Wildy-All-Over) wee-wee, and the AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) took a while to stop, so I left the bucket in place, I had a feeling it might be needed again soon.

I got the stick and limped into the kitchen with the food tray I’d not cleared away from last night, and got washing the things up. I then took a photograph of the morning view of Winchester Street, I zoomed in, and when I pressed the ‘take’ button, so many things came on at the same time, for a moment, I thought to myself; “Hello, this is it!”. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters died, Shaking Shaun gave me a rattling, and Duodenal Donald stabbed away at me! It was all over in less than a minute, and things went back to how they were? Well, Donald kept on, but far less viciously. Normally, as often happens, the effect on the picture would make me delete any photos as bad as this one, but I’ve shown it, cause the blurred shot, looks a little interestingly ghostly, Haha!

I got the kettle on and then began doing the Health-Checks. Starting with the stick thermometerisationing. The temperature was a smidge down, but not far out, methinks, it has been a lot lower over the last week. Although it was higher on Wednesday and Thursday. I’m waffling again!

The sphygmomanometer readings were better, at last. After a couple or so days of ridiculously high readings, it had dropped to 157, a bit high, but betterer.

The DIA and pulse seemed okay to me.

I took the medications, made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on the computer. The first thing to do was to create a template, which I did. Then got updating the Thursday post. For some reason, at this stage, I remembered that I had to go to the opticians today, to collect the new spectacles and give them £300 in payment, Humph!

I was struggling against the interruptions from SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley). And needed another wee-wee. This one was so different, as is often the case, from the one before. It was back to a WTOP (Weak-Trickling-Orange-Painful) one.

But this reminded me to update the Bladder and Bowel Control records I’m keeping, as I have been instructed to, to take with me to the St Ann’s Health Centre, when I go for the scans. I finished the Thursday blog updating at last.

Pinterested some snaps, sent off the links via email and went to make another brew, Glengettie Gold this time.

I got some potatoes in the Crock-Pot and set the dial for ‘low’. Added some of the Squid fish sauce/vinegar to the water.

I had a look at the legs, to see if the right one was still pale like last night. They had returned to being the same shade as each other. Another mystery of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, cruel karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, confuse, and scare the hell out of Inchcock!’ Or maybe not, of course?

Then I went on a Facebook updating mission, hello, another wee-wee, I’ll take the bucket and get it cleaned and sanitised, and get the ablutions done at the same time, methinks. Back in a bit! I hope!

I’m back, and what a busy, fiddly messy time I’ve had; No sooner had I put the camera and stick outside of wet-room, I needed an urgent, fast-developing use for the Porcelain Throne. But it worked out great, my being just a few feet away from the toilet at the time. (Proof that things do work out well for me, sometimes, Hahaha!) The session was just like the last one: Very painful, very quick and massive! Not messy, and only a few specks of blood. The cistern coped with the evacuation with just three flushes, too!

I got on with doing the teggies, which was considerably more hurtful than yesterday, due to my over-keenest and rushing. My own fault!

The shaving, ah, well, not so good. Several small nicks, I must get some razor blades for the good razors. (Maybe today if I can get out to collect the spectacles, I can see what Wilko have on offer) The dropsies shaving totalled about eight, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were not very good, on and off.

The shower, now we’re talking, it went very well indeed. Only one dropsy! One clout against the grab rail, and one short visit from Shaking Shaun. I think SSS was taking a holiday, cause there were as no shudderings at all for the entire showering session! 

The drying off and medications brought only two things knocked off of the floor cabinet visit (the olive oil applicator, and the deodorant spray). A few dropsies, though.

As I got on the new slippers with the outdoor soles, I was as pleased as punch, I managed to stick the velcro together on them, with the Jenny supplied short picker-upperer. Smug-Mode-Adopted! Both of the ankles seemed to be a bit more patchy and veiny?

I got the PP’s and trews on, no socks, no shirt yet. And I went to fill in the Bladder and Bowel Control records. Then got the kettle on. I realised as I was pouring the tea, I’d not checked the door for any mail. So, I did.

There was yet another hand-delivered advice letter. Basically, Nottingham City Homes, my landlords, who used Willmott Dixon to upgrade the flats (About three years ago, still not done yet, but we can blame the protected pipistrelle (Pipistrellus pipistrellus) is a small pipistrelle microbat whose very large range extends across most of Europe, North Africa, southwestern Asia) being found at the apartments, then the loathsome, life-destroying Coronvirus, for this; NCH, arranged with Willmott Dixon, who have now arranged for sub-contractors McKean Developments Ltd, for mask-wearing employees, who will keep a safe distance from us, to carry out an inspection of the new (*unwanted) balconies (* some windows have fallen off onto residents, injuring them, (* crumbling concrete falls on you, and the metal-spring window catches have caused a few injuries to the fingers, cuts and bruises), to be inspected, these inspections will be carried out on 21st >22nd September 2020. (* So, two more days we cannot get out for food, to the dentist, Doctors or clinic). *=My comments.

I shall now check to see if I have any appointments on my Google calendar for Monday or Tuesday. Hang on… Nope, only a food delivery and an expected call to come in from the Injury & Falls follow up team.

I took a picture through the balcony, then remembered I’d left the mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, in the kitchen.

So I proceeded to make another one. A full-tasty Glengettie one this time.

I assembled the things for the bus ride to Sherwood to collect the spectacles. And set off on my trip, taking some stuff to drop off at Jenny’s.

I got down without any bother and left the bag on the door-handle, and back to the lift. Where my EQ asked me if I really had to go out, and advised me not to bother? I pressed the call button, and the cafe arrived, the doors opened and closed straight away, and I’d missed the lift? It was a while before it came again, being as it is only one lift we are allowed to use, and when it returned, Eric from the 15th floor was in it, he said something as the doors opened, they shut again and another cock-up, as I’d missed it once more! All in all, it 25 minutes before I got into the cage! Now it was a rush to catch the bus in time!

When I got down to the ground floor, I hastened with wobbling trolley to the bus stop, but it pulled-off as I arrived, that’s happened twice in two days now! Swine!

The trip to and back ended up with me having to walk both ways. When I got home, I made up a photo-ode about the farcical-escapade. Link: 

A bus ride to Sherwood? Not on your life!

Getting back home, after the exertions of the wickedly Whoopsiedangled wanderings, I found the INR test results had been delivered, from Wednesday. Then I wrote the ode, while I was still feeling the angst, pain and weariness of the marathon walk.

The new varifocals were already slipping down my nose. Which made all the farce, agony and farting about I had to do to get them, even worse! I was stewing and brewing inside, with the innards now prompting Duodenal Donald to kick-in with his elongated stabbing strikes! Humph!

I got the ‘what I thought’ would be delicious smoked pork in the oven. I have to say, it did look good in the oven tray, and I foolishy got hunger pains as I got it on the rack.

Put away the other bits, and went for a wee-wee, a rare variety this time, a JPASB (Jet-Powered-Achroous-Spray-Back) mode!

Had a wash and clean-up, took the medications, and put the other stuff away.

After taking this picture of the lemon wafers, Wilko washing up liquid and laundry freshener, I dropped a [acket of the biscuits, and trod on it! It’s amazing how ageing, loss of balance, dizzies, and stupidity allows one to do things like this. I had a job cleaning up the crumbs that burst out as the packaging split open! Still, it gave me a bit of exercise. Tsk!

I put the mini-sized frankfurters into the fridge, I’m looking forward to trying these out later on.

Then I checked on the pork in the oven, I was cooking the ribs slowly on low heat, but giving it a much longer time, it said to do something like this on the label. No advice on the web about how to cook it. I added some liquid smoke to the meat.

I got the potatoes from the crock-pot on to the plate, washed the slow-cooker, then added some of the Jenny-supplied yellow and red tomatoes, and a pickled egg.

Another wee-wee, this time it was a totally different type from the previous evacuation. A WTWIWI (Weak-Trickling-Was-It Worth-It) style. Washed and sanitised the hands.

Serving up the meal, and the smoked pork looked and smelt wonderful!

Added some grapes and a lemon mousse on the tray. I felt sure this was going to be a tasty effort!

Got it on my knee as I sat in the c1968 recliner and got me feet up, just about to tuck into it, and the landline burst into life flashing!

I gave a big sigh, but the tray on the Otterman, and answered the call. It was the Doctors surgery, asking if I had received the results of the blood test yet from the Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic. I told her it had just been delivered, and she asked me what the dosages were, and next blood test date.

I opened the letter and told her, and she rang off. The INR level as excellent at 3.2, and the next test date was for 30th September. I made a note to remind me to add it to the Google Calendar and got back to the feast that awaited me on the tray…

Everything was tasty and enjoyed – Bar the meat! The one thing I was really looking forward to as well. It was more bone than meat, they had covered it with something to give it a rich tasty look, but that only covered up the masses of fat underneath!

I was deflated, grumpy, and disappointed in the extreme! After such the miserable catastrophe, Whoopsiedangleplop-ridden, crude, bus-missing, painful, embarrassing, and almost crippling and horrible trip to and from Sherwood, and now the disappointment of the £5-plus cut of meat being a disaster tastewise – I was feeling a little down and frustrated! Well, one would be, of course!

I ate all but the pathetic pork on the plate, then I took the tray through to the kitchenette. Wrapped the sickeningly fatty meat joint, and washed the things up.

The evening sky looked like me, all broody, moody. I took a couple of photos of it, and even they came out terrible!

Not one of my better days! Grobbleknackercraps!

A simple bus ride to fetch my Spectacles – Not on your life, talk about things going wrong. Humph!

A simple bus ride to fetch my Spectacles

Not on your life, talk about things going wrong!

The things you will read on this so-called true-funny blog of mine,

Really are true, and challenge my sanity  and mind,

Please persist reading, and you will find,

Why I have logicality, hopelessness and despondencies entwined!

Off to Sherwood to collect my glasses,

I’ll call on Jenny and Doris, such lovely lasses,

I’ll leave them a treat, containing molasses,

Might get a chinwag with whoever passes?

 ———————————————

Caught the lift down with no problem at all,

Left the bag, hope they have a ball,

Returned to lift lobby hall,

Catching the elevator, not easy at all,

I was so frustrated and appalled,

25 minutes later, the lift responded to my call!

 ———————————————

Rushing out to Chestnut Walk, slipped and broke my shoe,

Clouted it on the walker’s wheel, surely there is some good luck due?

But what made me saddest, was the bus had departed, early too!

So, all het-up now, I legged-it, passed-wind, and feared wanting a poo!

 ———————————————

On Winchester Street, The walker ran away from me,

I chased it, and is facticity,

I wedged it against a box for electricity,

To take this phot, but not with enough adequacy,

I stopped it again but with inefficacity,

No doubt about it, this was going to be a trip of paucity!

———————————————

I got down the hill, energy’s what I did lack,

I must get the bus up the hill going back,

I called on two shops to get cleaner and a snack,

Off to the optician’s, the one drawback,

I was wearing a sort of anorak,

I was so hot, but didn’t hold back,

Got in the shop, and took the receptionist flak,

I was late, it seems was her crack!

———————————————

I had a long wait to be seen,

Not that I was all that keen,

£300 to pay, never again to be seen,

Crosswording while I waited,

The receptionist called me to be seen,

The lady dealt with me, glasses were fitted,

I got quite jolly-fully contented and witted,

Until it came time to pay, the nI was fritted!

I’d forgotten my pin number again,

I think the lady thought of me; “What a Pain!”

From crying out loud, I did refrain,

She got the money through, this seemed diaphane,

How I don’t know, so I asked her, it felt germane,

I didn’t understand her, and felt a right dumb-brain,

Thanked her, pretending to understand, I did mislain,

Still, she didn’t moan or complain!

Then out and up the hill, to catch the bus again!

———————————————

I had to doge another Pavement Cyclist, he gave me a fright, 

I was too tired to comment or get into a fight,

I’d run out of the Kryptonite! 

Would I make the walk home up the fearsome hill? I might! 

Down to the traffic light corner,

And the bus passed by, I was too late!

I checked the next ones time and date, 

40 minutes, too long to stand and wait,

So I set off, limping, with an unsteady gait!

The hill looked a fearsome sight, 

The prospect of climbing it, made me feel uptight,

Sorry that I didn’t wait for the bus, I felt contrite!

Anyone seeing me struggle up the road must have seen a sickening sight,

I was sure the gradient was gaining height?

The hobble home seemed infinite

At the top of Winchester, the parkers made things tight,

For breakfast, I should have had some Marmite,

The time went by slowly, and things went quite,

Somehow, up the last part of the hill, I did expedite, 

To see a harrowing sight,

The 40 bus arriving, some tenants did alight,

 My energy was drained completely now, flat!

Didn’t have the energy for eating my cervelat,

Must not fall asleep, I’ll have to do summat,

I got back to the apartment, Zzzz; that was that!


After this abysmal, Whoopsiedangle-ridden trip, the poor old twit, did have fleeting thoughts of a suicidal nature. but he did not act on them – He fell asleep! Haha!

Inchcock’s Third Escape from the Lock-Down, to Nottingham. Photographically recorded!

Inchcock’s Third brave but stupid, Escape from the Lock-Down

We understand, that the Nottingham City Council Security, the Police, and the newly-formed Boy Scouts Woggle-Anti-Lock-Down-Escapers-Retrieval-Team are after him, again!

He arrived at Upper Parliament Street, where he spied and ogled some Nottinghamian ladies, on his way into the Poundland Store, had a Dizzy Dennis visit, and came out with more unwanted goods, such as Zoflora disinfectants, Carnation milk pots, Cooked beef misshapes, and 3×8 bags of his destroyers-to his diet, Frazzles!

He paid the lady, who helped him when he had his funny-turn and dropped his money on the floor, thanked her and made his way to the Bargain Shop on Milton Street. Observing a pair of fine legs-displaying young Nottinghamiam lady, crossing the road against the cross-walk lights. He forgave her we understand.

He patiently waited for some fine bottom-shaped, Nottinghamian Mothers to get there ankle-snappers locked securely in the pushchair, then entered the store. Hoping they would have some of the Pakistani made potato cakes, and lemon air-spray in stock. They didn’t. But the old fool felt so guilty at the thought of not buying anything, he bought a pack of four-mini oven trays, for £1.99, and left to walk through Trinity Square, up the incline, so as to take some pictures of Trinity Walk, but got yet another visit from Dizzy Dennis, and hobbled down to Upper Parliament Street.

The first of the Pavement Cyclist he saw on the short hobble, all-but ran into him. He claims to have called out, “You silly boy!” and waved at him.

Investigations are underway to find out what he actually shouted!

He limped down Queen Street to Nottingham’s Slab Square.

His near-miss at being run into again by another Nottingham Pavement Cyclist, (he says) drew a slightly more forceful response. The old grumpy claimed he said “Tsk! You rascal!”

He walked across to South Parade, where he took a shot of the side of the Council House. Not many folks there, so he turned back and took one of the Square.

He hobbled down Arcade Walk. Amused at how the Nottinghamians were totally ignoring the signs written on the paving stone, to keep to the left.

St Peter’s Square; and the silence was overbearing.

He says he felt like a disaster was about to take place, as he avoided another of the many Nottinghamian Pavement Cyclists.

He told our reporter, that he wanted after over a year and a half, to go into the M&S Foodhall, to get some treats from there ready-made meal section for himself. Shame that. He could not gain entry with his walker to any door but one, all the others have stairs or step that needed tackling to get in. So, after a long painful hobble around he found the doorway, and for his bother, got walked into by two rather large ladies coming out. He could not tell what they said to him, but the words were accompanied by some well-used, superior class sneers and curled lips.

Then he had to walk for what seemed miles, to get to the lift down to the Food Hall. Luckily, there was no one wanting to use the lift, which pleased him, but felt odd, the place used to be very busy all of the day? When he got down, it was a very sad sight! The Coronavirus has had a shocking impact, for M&S. Fridges were curtained off and not in use at all! The usually well-stocked shelves looked bare, by comparison now. 

The fool paid £2 for a tiny bag of small potatoes, £1 for a mini tray of basic mushrooms, £2 for small-box of Frites, and £2.50 for four minuscule potato-rostis!

He got to the checkout and had another Dennis Dizzy visit, and Stuttering Stephanie hit him. He claims he was overcharged, but who knows, in the state he was in, owt could have happened.

The poor old senile nincompoop struggled to get up the lift and out of the one door he could use, and onto Lister Gate again.

Back wearily up Exchange Walk, with his famously-reliable EQ, telling him that hassle of some sort was on the way. Which didn’t take long to arrive!

He took a zoomed-in shot with his little Canon camera towards King Street, as a Pavement Cyclist zoomed by his, and he felt the draught the speeding idiot made!

Another Pavement Cyclist came into view.

Then another one, too!

This one came close to hitting the old codge, he came from the rear. Inchcok refused to tell me what actual words he shouted at this Pavement Cyclist.

This particular Pavement Cyclist gave our Nottinghamian pensioner a few looks!

The old scrote carried on his way up to the bus stop, and a final Pavement Cyclist belted by him. He claims he was tired, pee’d off and Dizzy Dennis was visiting him again at this stage. There might be something in what he says cause he can’t remember the bus ride back to Winwood Court!

He says he didn’t see a single policeman all day!

The can recall getting off of the bus though, he cracked his ulcered ankle on the trolley-walkers right-hand back wheel!

This was written and potomagraphed, under great stress. Just thought I’d mention it!

Inchcockski – Sunday 13th September 2020: Long, long day! But this phagomaniac made a decent meal for once!

TFZer Gal – Bootiful!

Sunday 13th September 2020

Spanish: Domingo 13 de Septiembre de 2020

13th September 1959: The first man-made Object (Luna 2) reaches the Moon!

About an hour after getting down to sleep, I woke to see the colourfulness and the brightness of the night coming through the thin, tatty, old, raggedy, multi-holed curtains. I could not resist fighting my way out of the recliner to take a photo of it. Lovely!

Around 00:50hrs, I woke again, in need of a wee-wee, and struggled to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and struggled to pass what was maybe 2 or 3 fluid-ounces, over the next five minutes or so! Yes, another RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) wee-wee! Hobbled to wash my hands, and then I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, non-operational, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery and unbalanced, positively-dangerous to use, rickety recliner, I soon nodded off again, which was pleasant and a change.

02:10hrs: I stirred into mock-life again, wanting another wee-wee. This time, catching my balance as I grabbed the stick, was a little more difficult, I’ve no idea why, but I got the bucket in time. It was an RSHH mode again, but with far less pain. The  Post-Micturition After Dribble lasted much longer than the main event did. Drip-drip, dribble, wait, sprinkle, drip… Tsk!

I could sense that things in the wee-weeing department were going to continue in the little-and-often style, so I emptied and sanitised the OGPEB, disinfected it and returned it to the computer room for later use. (And believe me, it saw plenty of action!). I’ll try to resist mentioning too many of them, it may sound too dull, but to me they were annoying. Each one was of deep luteous shade.

I remembered (Miracles do happen, then? Hahaha!) that the Falls-Team arranged delivery of a new walking frame was due to arrive today. So I got with doing the Health Checks sharpishly. The flipping SYS is still high!

The temperature, using the stick thermometer was the highest its been in many a month!

But that’s a good thing, I think anyway? I don’t think its too high at all.

I took a photo of the tablet trays, to show you how it is so easy to make a mistake in taking them. Although these pods were designed, to make it easier for we slightly more mature dodderers, and cut back on such errors. As you can see, the pills are all over the placed, many stuck under the covers, and others had moved into another compartment altogether! Many were stuck on the glue, others by the static electricity in the packaging. When they were first introduced, they told me they’d be fool-proof as well! Hah!

Obviously, they had forgotten about the well known locally ‘Special Skills’ of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up Mansfield Road, from the Lidl store.

I’d no idea what time of day the frame might come, so I got on with updating the Saturday post. Got it completed and Pinterested some snaps from it. Went on Facebook updating, then the same with the WordPress Reader. Emailed the link, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

I closed down Computer Cameron and got some hand-washing done, before doing the ablutions. The old oven grabbers were washed with the other stuff. I’ve still got the new gloves, but these although hard to clean, easy to dirty, and very old and tatty (a bit my me really, Hahaha!), they’re more effective and easier to hold onto when Shaking Shaun or Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters play up.

I had a bit of spontaneous breakfast after the washing was done, wrung and hung—cheese biscuits and a pot noodle, and off to the wet room for a scrubbing-up.

I needed a Porcelain Throne visit first. One of the easiest for a long time. Yee-Ha! Still painful, of course, but so much quicker than even yesterday’s was! A bit of blood, a smidge messy. Needed cleaning up before I took a shower, Haha!

But would the cistern clear things? No! I needed to hand-fill the tank a couple of times, and still, some bits were floating even then? Aggravannoying!

The ablutions were miraculously incident-free again! Not much bother from Toothache Terence, only one dropsy of the toothpaste tube! The shaving produced only two little nicks that did not bleed much at all. Doing the showering and only one mini-dizzy-spell, and three dropsies! Drying off went well, too!

Ah, well, the medicationalisation didn’t go as smoothly, I’m afraid. I thought that the rear-end furuncle was clearing up yesterday, I was wrong, and applied the ointment a little too roughly, and the blood flowed! So had to apply some Dakacort cream to get it to stop! I cunningly did this in the shower area and then sprayed-away the resulting blood flow mess using the shower-head. (Smart, eh? Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Harold’s Haemorrhoid’s done with the Germoloid cream, and Arthur Itis’s knees and hands with the Phorpain Gel. I felt rather good about how I coped these problems!

The leg ulcer, or Clopidogrel allergy markings, had spread-out but got fainter, and some new ones appeared on top of the right foot, below the base of the toes. The fresh ones looked like freckles. Ah, well, it stops me getting bored, Hehehe! 

I got the new PPs on, a pair of trousers, and the maroon zip-up shirt. The Sock-glide was given a sneer of contempt, as I left the wet-room.

Because I was not wearing any socks, and the vicious, finger bruising and crushing monstrosity, was again, not going to be used, and my digits and legs put at risk of injury once more! Not that it scares me, of course! Oh, no!

Then, I set-too making up some black waste bags, and put the Floor-Voting paper on them, so as not to forget to take them with me on the way out with the bags, to the Rubbish chute, and take the voting paper down to the lobby.

I got a face-mask on, and the items were carried by hand, using only the wooden walking -stick. For some unknown reason, at that time, I felt in a rather panurgic, ready-for-anything mood? Yes, it confused and baffled me as, why as well!

By the time I’d got out, and to the chute-room, unfortunately, things had changed quickly. I was all over the place with the walking stick, and must have appeared drunk to anyone who might have seen me? The old balance had gone to pot again. I got the bags in the chute alright though.

Then clouted my right elbow against the door frame, on the way out of the room!  A spot of turbidity in the brain as I waited for the lift down to the ground-floor lobby. By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, and into the main hall, my balance was a lot better, and the foggy-brain seemed to be clearing. What’s going on here?

I posted the floor colouring preferences sheet into the ballot box.

And again, with a renewed physical and mentally settled state, I got the lift back up to the flat.

Where, perversely, the semiobscurity returned to the brain and vagueness, a lack of concentration came over me. My memories of getting Josie’s meal prepared is a bit sketchy. I discovered later on that I’d forgotten to photograph it, yet everything from when I wheeled it to Josie’s door, is crystal-clear? We chatted a short while, and I returned to the flat’s kitchen to get the cleaning up done.

I was doing well again, and then almost flaked out. My body and mind told me to get down in the chair, and stay there; I checked that I had on Medical Alert Alarm wristlet, which I did. And I immediately nodded of fitfully. I kept on waking up with the sunshine coming through the thin, decrepit, holed, curtains. But, nodded back off almost straight away each time. I suddenly jumped awake, and felt a different person, back to my old self? I’ll put this on the questionnaire when it comes from the hospital.

But I was feeling fine, and got up to check on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and got the computer back on to update this blog. And Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were both being good to me! I couldn’t understand what had happened, but I was so happy that things had returned to semi-normal. Obviously, now a scepticism and uncertainty remained, a sort of fear that it might happen all over again. Whatever the heck it was?

The door chimes rang out. It was an NHS chappie, delivering the new narrower walker for me. He was in a rush, my EQ picked up on that. I remembered what Nurse Caroline had told me about not doing anything with it when it is delivered until she calls again on Wednesday. So I put it with the spare three-wheeler on the balcony. I never thought I’d use one of these! It was wider than I expected, and I didn’t cope very well with it, putting it on the veranda, at all.

Updated this blog again, and it is now hours beyond my usual head-down time.

But the need for some Diary TFZer top graphics is urgent, so I moved onto CorelDraw.

Decided to make another brew first, straight Glengettie this time.

Then took a snap of the sunshine, and returned to CorelDrawing at last.

I only got one graphic done, (Tsk!), and made the template for tomorrows, and the got the fodder sorted out. Better late than never!

Battered fish strips, slow-cooked potatoes halved, and a bit of butter and onion-salt sprinkled on them. Garden peas, and some of the delightful baby Piccalo tomatoes. A pot of raspberry ripple mousse from the freezer, thawed out as I as the meal, nicely!

Tired-out now, but I stayed alert enough to enjoy this feast. Deserving of a Flavour-Rating of 8/10.

Went to get the meal things soaking in washing up bowl, and took this photograph of the evening’s view.

Having been up for over 20 hours or so, and in a state of weariness that was high, even for me, I felt so sure that I’d nod-off within minutes of getting my head down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, puke-making beige coloured recliner. It was not to be!

Sweet Morpheous did eventually arrive, but it was gone midnight by then! At least I got around four hours of deep-sleep in, before waking up in urgent need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Ah, well, TTFN!

Inchcockski – Thurs 10 Sept 2020: Emotions ever-changing, highs and lows. Hey-ho!

Aha? TFZer gal, starts a business at the Cool-It-Cabin? ♥

Thursday 10th September 2020

Latin: September 10th Iovis MMXX

02:30hrs: I felt absolutely disconsolate at another almost totally sleepless night, and decided to give up trying, and get up! I need a pick-me-up, some luck, a roborant, or even some good luck, or even sleep will do nicely. The things I ask for! Mission Impossible comes to mind. Knacklewrangles!

Feeling a little brassed-off with the unrepairable reasons for my getting little sleep, I was aware that I was falling into the darkness. This I could not allow. So a mental search for options, that would improve my attitude was carried out before I’d even moved my body in the recliner. After a few minutes, the realisation that self-pity was developing, it does that sometimes.

I forced myself to perk-up, by thinking of all those much worse off than I am. I whistled to myself as I fought my way out the £300, c1968, non-operational recliner, caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and made my way to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) to relieve myself. The wee-wee was for a change, a decent one, nearly normal apart from the colour, how the heck can I be passing light-green urine? Still, it was easy, painless, and no pre or after Micturition-Dribbling. Immediately, my spirits started sneaking up a smidge, a smile developed, the need for a mug of tea arose, and never kept to plans for the day were developing! I sang 1960 songs to myself as I hobbled with the bucket to get it emptied and sanitised…

As I entered the wet room, I stopped the singing of Ricky Nelson’s version of ‘Well my bucket a hole in it!’, as I gave myself one hell of a brutal, cruel toe-stubbing on the chair which supported the danged-nabbed sock-glide! Arrrgh! This seemed to bring on the pains on the souls of the right foot and ankle areas, just as they were yesterday.

Fancy that, I said!

Cleaned the EOGP bucket, freshened and antisepticated it, and went to the kitchen, taking extra care to avoid the bad-luck and painful, injurious to use, sock-glide, and avoiding walking into any doors or walls en route. Oddly I began singing to myself again! Cliff Richard’s Young Ones. Don’t laugh! Hehehe!

More old favourite songs and tunes came to voice as I was taking this photo of the morning view, Adam Faith, ‘The time has come’, Ricky’s ‘It’s up to you’ and whichever group it was that made a cover of ‘A little bit of soap’, amongst overs, flowed unmelodically from throat.

Another stroke of good luck when I did the sphygmomanometerisationing. Amazingly the SYS had gone down to 140! Wunderbar!

The stick thermometer was not in a mood for working, to start with. I had several attempts but just got low, no figures as to what the actual reading was.

Well, on about the fifth try, I got a figure of only 32.3°c, that’s really low methinks? Why? I’ve not got the foggiest.

Billy Fury, ♫I’m running around♫ was vocalised. Quietly of course, and well out of tune!

After I’d just put the machines away in the medical drawer, then SSS, aka, (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked off. Even this was not going to bring me down again. I sillily mocked the ailment, because instead of the usual ‘Just-at-the-wrong-time’, she’d cocked-up her attack, and missed her chance of making me drop, and possibly break some expensive gear. ♫ La la la la la Lala! ♫ Hehehe! I am such a fool!

As SSS calmed down, the whatever is in in the ankle began to get real tender, I took a look at it. Looks like it feels in this picture, tender. It even makes me jump when the legs of the trousers catch against it. Tsk! Worrisit? Surely it can’t be the Clopidogrel allergy. Because that has never hurt, Mmm?

I started to update the Wednesday Inchcock, and SSS, NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters), and Reflux Roger were a bit of a nuisance and cost me a lot of time checking and correcting. But I got it finished at long last.

I don’t think that the annoying ‘Hum’ has been so loud for such a long time, ever before! I keep wanting to have a look outside to see if there are any fire engines with their pumps in use, its sounds just like it.

I got the fresh peas podded and in the saucepan. Then scrubbed some potatoes and got them in the crock-pot, with soy sauce and the fish vinegar.

The ablutions were tended to next. A proper-farce it was, but not due to Accifauxpas, or too many dropsies, for once.

I had a really smooth, best ever in weeks, session; apart maybe a nasty hitting the shoulder on the grab support when I dropped the soap. I’d got to the medicationalising stage, and the front door chimes rang out. There I was, naked, and a positive threat to anyone who may have to look at my elephantine wobbly body, so I wrapped the towel around my midriff and went to investigate. Surely it can’t be Josie this early, the thought that she might need help, caused me to hasten my hobbling speed to get to the door. I partly opened the door ajar, and peeked-out, but no lights were on in the lobby? Puzzled, I returned to the wet room!

I’d almost got the medicationing finished, and the landline rang out. I made it in time, it was my heroine Jenny. She said she’s left some tomatoes for me, home-grown from a relative, for me. We laughed when I told her where I was, when she called on me, Hahaha! I thanked her for thinking of me. ♥

Back to the wet room again, just furuncular cream to apply now.

As I got the tube in my hand, unfortunately, the right hand, to transfer cream to the left hand to use it with, SSS gave me a blast… and the cream shot out and upwards, landing in one long piece back down onto my bulbous stomach, and dribbled down onto Little Inchy as it broke up. I got it all cleaned up, but it was not easy getting back up again from the floor after getting things sorted. Tsk! It seems so funny now, but wasn’t so at the time! Hahahaha!

Herbert was tap-tapping a bit, but not too bad. Bless him!

I then got myself freshened-up and partly clothed. (No socks on, not that this was because I didn’t want to risk, or was afraid of using the blood-letting, finger breaking, sock-glide, of course! As if a brave, bold, young man like wot I am, would be so scared of using a plastic-coated metal, Satan-made article. Hehe, oh no! Ahem!

I got the towel onto the airer and retrieved the tomatoes that Jenny had kindly brought for me, from outside the apartment’s door.

I took a closer look at at the spots, papules, and scabbing, that had suddenly got more painful. I don’t think it is the leg ulcer, that has never hurt like this. Whatever it is, ulcer or something else, it seems to be spreading out down to the foot now!

Got the fodder prepped and eaten. The tomatoes from Jenny were okay, the yellow ones were marvellous. I ate it all up but struggled to stay awake to do so.

Took the pots to be washed, and heard a noise as I was doing so.

It was a hand posted letter from Nottingham City Homes, reminded us of the creeding being done on Tuesday 15th September, and we have to either leave the flat before 08:00hrs and not return until the work has been completed, or remain in the apartment until we are advised the jobs done, and the concrete dried. Fair enough!

Med’s taken, and down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, broken-not-working recliner, in search of Seet Morpheous. Who came very late on, but stayed with me for five blessed hours! Yippee!

TTFNski, haveth a great day!

Inchcock – Wed 9 Sept 2020: It was farcicationalistical at times today!

TFZers, at their Tree-Top-Cool-It-Cabin ♥

Wednesday 9th September 2020

Javanese: Rebo 9 September 2020

01:55hrs: I woke with stomach-ache and started sneezing. Then the need of a wee-wee arose, so I struggled up and out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured recliner, and utilised the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). For another RSS (Reluctant-Slow-Sprinkly) release.

The stomach was slowly getting a little more bothersome. This was a new type of tummy pain for me. Not sharp, but more like a persistent ache? I fear that last night’s disaster of a meal, and my eating some of it, might be the cause. Acid coming up now Reflux Roger has kicked off, too? Hey-ho!

To the kitchen, cleaned the bucket, and I took a snap of the morning’s view from the thick-framed, light and view-blocking window. The tummy-ache was joined by some rumblings, then the urgent need of the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I fumbled and bumbled my way ASAP to the wet room, and down on the Throne, and not a second too soon either!

The steady movement started on its own accord, no input from me, that was too painful a task. Everything seemed to go into a time-warp, as I waited through the pain, got the crossword book out. The oh, so slow progression… at the tail end of things, I tried pushing the action along… Argh! That was not a good idea!

Some bleeding, but not messy or too pungent. I cleaned up and got some Germoloid applied, and boy this helped ease things in the rear quarters.

Back to the kitchenette, and got the gear out of the medical drawer, and started the Health Checks with the stick thermometer. Blimus, the temperature has shot up this morning, to 36.7°c, the highest it’s been for many months.

The sphygmomanometerisationing results were much betterer, though. The SYS had tumbled down to 139, an unexpected improvement there then.  Took the meds.

The stomach just kept on the same as before, a dull, grinding ache, now with the odd sharp stabbings. This does not bode well! 

With the innards in this volatile condition, I did not risk having a brew of tea; and took some water with me to the computer instead. This is serious, me? Not having tea! Hehehe!

I made up a template for today, then got on with updating yesterdays post. The innards gave me so much bother and discomfort, but SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters) were both so kind to me, and typing was a little easier than usual. So things went well progress-wise on the blogging for once.

I started this post’s setting-up. Then went on Facebook catching-up. (Now the stomach was giving me some sharp stabs of sheer pain!)

That didn’t last long, I had to fly off (well, hobbled rapidly) to the Porcelain Throne again. A good job I didn’t delay going, only just got there in time. Far less painful this time, quicker and no bleeding. Phew!

Back to Facebooking, TFZers and Winwood Heights. Then on the WordPress Reader. Pinterested some snaps. Then, it was time for the ablutions to be done! The Vampire angel of a nurse is due this morning, but later on. Then this evening I must stay awake for the Morrison delivery that will be due.

Off to get the ablutions tended to. Had time to get the usual 08:00hrs full session in this morning.

Ablutionalisticalisationing Report

  • The teeth cleaning got me off to a bad start; Gums bleeding, Toothache Terence, and one dropsy of the toothpaste, and two of the brush.
  • Shaving: Oh, what a lot of dropsies! Foam Spray, Razors (5).  
  • Shaving Cuts and nick: Only one cut and a nick, one bled a bit profusely, but the Brut stopped it and stung. Hehe!
  • Shaving: Dropped the Brut after-shave bottle, but, other than losing some lotion, no problems, toe or foot landing on, and the bottle did not break!
  • Showering: An Ace-job, not showerhead dropping, no walking or banging into anything, no Dizzy Dennis or SSS visits either! Great!
  • Medicationalisationing: Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding at all! But by gum, they were stinging! But I’ve had worse, and the precious Germoloid cream did its job in calming them down. So, a thumbs up.
  • Even the furuncle was not painful much, I reckon it’s on the decline now.
  • Rheumatoid Arthur Itis’s knees were worse than yesterday, but again, they’ve been worse, so another thumbs up. No need for any extra Phorpain.
  • I did knock some stuff off of the floor cabinet top, but only the earholes olive oil dropper, Germolene tube and body spray.

A decent session overall, with no walking into or banging against any door frames, cupboards or even the sock-glide. While I was coming out. Toe-Stubbings avoided! The ankle ulcer was clearing up, but spreading out a smidge?

Mind you, the right SSS shoulder joint was aching a lot more than usual, but this is to be expected, with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley being hyper-active for the last two days, well, afternoons. So, no complaints. Definitely, a time to adopt a Smug-Mode! 

I got the hand-washing seen to next. A total of one long-sleeved shirt, It’s hard work yer know! Hehehe! No socks, cause with me not going out, I’m not wearing any.

Absolutely nothing to do with the shameful, scandalous, rumour going about, that I’m scared to death of using the killer Sock-Glide, just because it takes bits out of my fingers, blisters or bruises them each time I  use it, whatsoever! A man of my calibre and extraordinarily brave, heroic character has no such fears, oh, no! Ahem!

I sorted out the small black waste bags, and big white recycling one and was about to get them onto the three-wheeled walker, and a third mad rush to the Porcelain Throne was needed.

The evacuation was over in around three minutes, again the innards controlled the movement, but the intestines seemed to be in a rush, and the speed with which it travelled, once it started, flabbergasted me! A little, no, fair bit messer, and pongier, but once more, there was no more bleeding from the rear-end quarters. A good session, the best for ages! 

I washed and medicated things in need, and got the bags loaded on the walker.

Getting to the waste chute room was a bit of a struggle with the bags, but once I got there, the small ones were deposited down the chute without any bother or hassle.

Caught the elevator down to the ground floor, a chap wanted to get on, at the 9th floor, and I beckoned him in, explaining that two people are allowed in together now, as part of the relaxing of the Coronavirus routine, as long as both are comfortable with this happening, and I was okay. The gentleman thanked me when we got down, that was polite of him.

I poddled to the caretakers’ bin. I placed the bag near the big green recycling bin, and I returned to the lift. Caught one back up, and realised I’d been all that way, and only saw one person.

I risked making a mug of Glengettie, as the tummy was more settled now. Then decided to have Glengettie Gold instead, as it is a milder flavour, just in case the innards kicked-off again. But they didn’t get any worse as and after I drank it.

Working on this computer for a while, and I heard a voice ring out from the hallway. I recognise it straight away, it was the beautiful, highly desirous, charming, kind, sweet, caring, empathetic, loin-moving, beneficent, appealing, heartwarming Nurse, Hristina, came to do my blood test.

Do you think I might have overdone that a bit? It’s how I feel about her, though. Had I been forty-five years or so younger, my loins would have been girded! However, things being how they are, the simple pleasure of having a natter with her, and absorbing the lustre and sparkle from her twinkling eyes, even just for a few minutes, while she drains my blood, do me so much good, and for a while, nothing else concerns me! I suppose I’m in love, too late, but still! I’ll have to put up with just being infatuated. Hehehe!

As soon as she’d departed, off to serve her next patient, the blues start to return, gradually, but still.

Limped onto the balcony, and saw the puffer clouds, I think that’s what they are called, with the terraces of the flats silhouetted, and returned to get the Nikon to take a shot of the beautiful view.

Did some updating on this blog, and decided to risk a tasty mug of tea, and then get some graphics made up for the diary tops, on CorelDraw, as I am now out of them, and will soon need more.

As I should have expected, no sooner had I got on CorelPaint programme, and SSS started shuddering and shaking the shoulders! Humph! This made the task hard-work, frustrating and handicapped!

Hours later, I’d got just three done. But Herbert kept me company with this tap, knock drag concerto.

The Morrison delivery is due shortly. I got the meal ready and served, to eat cold after the shopping has arrived. A simple snack, for a simpleton to savour, Hehehe! At least it kept me awake doing this food prepping.

Aha, just took this picture of the nosh, and the intercom flashed. T’was the Morrison delivery, if there are no substitutes or errors I’ve made on it, it will be the first time in months. Tsk!

The young man conveniently left the bags in the doorway for me. Tsk! I slipped him a can of G&T and thanked him, he thanked me, and off he shot. Leaving me with the task of moving the bags into the kitchen. During which, for some odd reason, the right foot started to hurt. I’ll check it out, later.

I got the bags into the kitchenette, but I did walk into the door frame taking the last bag through the hallway. The right shoulder, as is normal, bore the brunt, and it made me grunt! Hehe! I sorted the bags out one by one. I put the treats for Jenny away. ♥

The first two carriers had an eclectic range of products to mix together. Cakes, bleach, biscuits, lactose-free milk (A substitute), G&T for Josie, Germolene, Potato farls for me, and two bottles of toilet cleaner! I’m no glad there were no leakages during transportation!

In the next bag, a rare mixture again, bananas, fresh pod peas, tarts, and two bottles of washing-up liquid.

Again, I was glad that the washing up liquids didn’t leak!

The fresh-food carriers had some delightful looking items in them. Three bags of potatoes (Three bags? I ask you, am I losing it altogether?), More tomatoes. (I ask you, am I losing it altogether?), Surami sticks, bacon, lemon mousse, raspberry ripple mini frozen mousse (These are nice!), imitation Surami prawn-tails, and a block of Morrison’s Best, Brittany butter, it really is gorgeous tasting. So no worries about running short of food any time soon!

The right foot was getting more painful as I hobbled around, I must have a check on it later, to find out what it is that’s causing this sudden discomfort. It feels bad underfoot and in the ankle area? Hey-ho!

I got settled to eat the meal, and the landline burst forth flashing and ringing. As I heaved my mountainous, blubbery frame from the chair to get to answer the call, I distributed some of the fodder on the carpet. But I got to the telephone in time. It was the kind Caroline from the falls team ♥, to update me on things with the walking-frame. I put the computer back on to record the details, I knew if I didn’t do it at the time, there was a chance of my forgetting. (Well, almost guaranteed, haha!)

The frame is being delivered to the flat on Sunday 13th. I am not to touch it; but store it away, until Wednesday 16th, when Caroline will come and show me the ropes, so as to say. I scribbled some notes as well, to remind me in the morning.

Cleaned up the mess I made dropping the fodder dish. Then I returned to the recliner and ate what was left of the simpleton’s meal. Got the utensils and things washed, and made for the recliner, in search of much overdue and needed sleep.

Ten-minutes later, I’d drifted off into the land of Sweet Morpheus. The landline flashed and sounded again, and a weary, out-of-it Inchcock battled up out of the heavenly sleep and c1968 recliner, and he got to answer the phone in time too.

It was the Doctor’s surgery, with the results and new Warfarin dosages from the Anticoagulation, Haemostasis, Deep Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic tests on my blood. New INR Level 4.2, Doses: Tue 2½, Wed 2, Thr 2½, Fri 2½, Sat 2, Sun 2½, Mon 2½,  Tues2.  Next test Wednesday 16th September. With my missing an evening dose, and the INR level rising, I expected the new amounts to lessen, but they went up? Or maybe, I’m too tired and confused to get things right at the moment. There’s no doubt about it, my moments of acrasia are getting more frequent. Sad, innit?

Head down again, but of course, sleep would not return. Every night this seems to happen. At least Josie didn’t wake me up as well. Josie and I are opposites in the hours we keep, she wakes me up regularly in the evenings. And if I forget as well, and try to contact her in a morning before about 10:00hrs, she has the heaven-sent ability to ignore the door chimes, and still get back to sleep, again. Jealous? Me? Yes! Hahaha!

Eventually, I did nod-off; when I don’t know. Then… Argh! I escaped the chair, and in a sort of not-with-it, zombi-fashion, I got to the phone… This caller had a voice and accent I found so hard to understand. It turned out he wanted me to open the door, for him to deliver my Chukki-chicken and taramasalata or something like that. I asked him where he was, ‘Outside your door!’, Where, I inquired, ‘Devon Avenue’ he replied… His tone changed now, he was getting ratty with me now. Eventually, his accent and excitement meant I could not make out what he was saying at all. I told him in a clear, louder voice, he had called the wrong number and rang-off. Praying he would not call back!

I waited a couple of minutes in case he did. He didn’t, thankfully.

This really had shot any chances of getting any much-needed Sweet Morpheous in. I am a lucky so-and-so.  Granglesknackerbuggerit!

Inchcockski – Sunday 6th September 2020: Superabundant Kodak camera problems, but Sweet Morpheus was not denied!

TFZers in the ‘Cool-It-Cabin’

Sunday 6th September 2020

Scots Gaelic: Didòmhnaich 6 Sultain 2020

04:00hrs: After a miserable three-hours kip, I woke, with draughts coming in through the new balcony door, and making my shiver a tad. Nowt to be done about it, Warden Deana has reported the sliding door either coming off of the runner or about to collapse, to the Nottingham City Homes Maintenance department. The door cannot be closed or locked either. Tsk!

I got a bit off-track there, (Like the balcony door), Humph! I rose to my feet in for me, a sprightly fashion, and as I was grabbing Metal Micky (Four-pronged walking stick) the need for a wee-wee arose, swiftly followed by a call to the Porcelain Throne! So, off to the wet room. 

I got down on the plastic raised seat, and the wee-wee began trickling slowly, but persistently. Followed while still in motion, by a sharp, painful, ‘will-I-split-open’, evacuation! The damp thud as the product all in one gigantic torpedo clumped into the WC, I felt the water splash up, wetting my lower regions, and I removed my body from the seated position with haste, not knowing if it was blood, water, or a mixture of both that caused the early morning showering. Haha!

It was only water, Phew! How the great dollop evacuated managed to go down in one flush, amazed me! I had a clean-up and applied some Germoloid to the rear quarters. When drying, I must have caught one of the furuncles and started it bleeding, of a brownish-red colour. So had to clean up again! Picklementisis! All sorted out, but still a smidge sore, I hobbled to the kitchenette and grabbed the new Kodak camera and took a snap of the messy, unkempt kitchen. The square photo that it took, was disappointing, so I changed the setting and tried again. The second pone came out in the new dimensions, but it didn’t look as good. I wonder what I did wrong?

I got the kettle on, then used the Nikon to take a snap of the morning view. Gawd, the wind was a cold one that blew in when I opened the window. Cor, blimey!

I put some potatoes to marinate in the small crock-pot, with some fish vinegar/sauce.

Using the stick thermometer, I got a decent temperature reading, of 34.°7c, a lot better than of late.

I had a go at changing the Kodak settings. And what a kerfuffle it was getting it even understood, let alone doing the changes.

After a long time, and frustrations aplenty, I got the date and time changed. But the dang  Microsoft photo Gallery, was putting the pictures in the  June 2020 folder? At least I’d got the date altered, even if it was of no use or advantage to me. Grungrungrun!

I then tried to change the photo size, what a farce that was, with my Numberphobia, I guessed, and it came out rightish, but far too large?

After much mayhem, failings and self-recrimination, I gave up!

Well, it seemed the logical thing to do at the time, I was going bonkers!

Anyway, I took another Kodak picture, from the computer chair, at least the shape was right, just lucky, I’d not got the foggiest idea what I was doing, apart from messing everything up, that is.

I think the Kodak is cupboard bound. Until I can get someone who knows what they are doing to help me out.

Did a decent job for once, of updating the Saturday blog. Then I made an Iceland and Morrison order for next week. And it was time for the ablutionalisationing.

The session went alright, in fact, it went well, up until the getting medicated and getting dressed!

I cleared the top of the floor cabinet again, with the towel while drying. And it took me yonks to find where the Germaloid tube had fallen to. Somehow it ended up on the floor behind the WC, and it got wedged between a disinfectant and bleach bottle. Humph!

The nasty incident was, as one might expect, with the lethal, nasty, vicious, finger-trapping-bruising-blistering and blood-letting Sock-Glide-Gladys!

I came out of the fight, losing badly today. Bruised knees, cut and squashed finger, and a stubbed toe! I don’t care how cold it is tomorrow, I refuse to commit myself to such risk again! Damned thing!

Still, only one cut shaving, one showerhead dropping, which missed the feet and toes, and an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, but I didn’t go over! Quite cheered me up that!

I got the hand-washing done, rung and hung. A long sleeve t-shirt, pair of socks, and the bath towel. All in coathangers drying above the sink!

The wee-wees returned after the laundry was finished, and kept up for hours. Two or three barely a trickle, then the odd one like a torrent down a Mountain stream! This pattern stayed with me until the evening?

I checked on Josie’s nosh cooking, and made up three black rubbish bags and took them to the waste chute room, As I was coming out of the room, it was as if someone had turned on the dreaded, annoying, piss-taking ‘Hum’!

I got on with serving up Josie’s nosh, got it plated and on the tray. I was well-pleased with low the cheesy potatoes had come out. I’d added the usual Leicester cheese and sea salt, I added a knob of butter, chives, onions and chives from the spring onions. LAst of the fresh garden peas, boneless smoked mackerel fillers, Surami sticks, gherkins, and tomatoes. A strawberry and cream mousse, and low-calorie chocolate noughat bar, and a can of pink Gin and hit.

Got it delivered dead on time again, (as chefs go, I’m not too bad).

When I got back inside the apartment, the scene from the balcony had brightened up a bit, so I went out and opened the right-hand side window, the one with the spring-metal clip that needs pushing and pulling at the same time to open it. My Sock-Glide-Gladys injured middle finger, now has the Spring-Clip-Opener-Ossie bruised digit for company.

I thought it was almost a real-life copy of a Turner photograph. (Well, maybe not, then) But I thought it was a grand view, even with no sunshine.

While I was out there, with finger bleeding, I thought I’d take a picture of the car park at the end of Chestnut Walk. (Billumski in Ohio, see that, 3 black and Red pap-paps today)

As I was busy cutting my finger on the metal spring cli[p again closing the window, I spotted that the Woodthorpe Ankle-Snappers park was open and in use. So I opened the glass window with the lethal spring clip, again.

(I know no fear! Ahem! Hehe!)

I do love it around here when the grass is green! But I also love it when I can get out for a while. I’m not going to let yesterdays cock-ups, Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops get me down. I plan on going out in the morning to town, going in to see the girls in the Poundland shop and come back on the bus again. Of course, that depends on how I feel at the time, like. Oh, Botherations! I just checked the calendar to see when the INR blood test is due, and it’s not on. So, I got the last Result and dosage ticket, and blow me, the date of the next Vampire visit, had been cut off when I opened the letter! Wot a Cu… curiously thick twit!

Did a few hours of updating this post, and the weariness dawned. So, I’d better get the meal sorted out while I am able.

A worthy 7.5/10 for taste. I got the pots washed, took the evening tablets and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner.

Sweet Morpheus came quickly. And I slept through four unbroken hours, without any wakings or calls for wee-wees! Great!

Inchcock – Saturday 5th September 2020: An oddlymost, frustrating, natterless day. Humph!

TFZer gals, a cookin’! ♥

Saturday 5th September 2020

Hmong: Hnub Saturday Lub Cuaj Hli 5 Xyoo 2020

03:30hrs: Woke, wriggled out of the rickety recliner, with some haste. Caught my balance, got Metal Mickey, off to the wet-room, and the Porcelain Throne was utilised; with a difference today. The heavy-duty evacuation came out a light-green, the pain was excruciating, and the deep-red blood flowed so much, this doesn’t bode well at all. However, the most significant change in style was the tinkling (wee-weeing), started off before the big stuff, and lasted none-stop for a full couple of minutes after? And yet, there was no PMAD Post-Micturition After Dribble whatsoever? Trouble brewing here, methinks! 

Washed and medicated things, and off to the kitchenette, and put the kettle on.

I took a picture of the morning view, capturing the distant moon, still clinging on high in the sky.

I used the stick thermometer to take my temperature. The photo I took of the result did not come out very good, as you can see where I added the figures, a 34.4°c reading. Which was fair enough for me, it’s a smidge higher than of late, but needed, methinks.

The sphygmomanometerisationing offered another high SYS reading for me. The Dia and Pulse seemed okay, though.

Then it was back to the wet room, for another wee-wee. A long one again, not powerful mind, more a persistent weak trickle, and once more, no PMAD to follow. I decided I would be commonsensible to prepare the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket) and bring out for use during the day, the leaking seemed as if it is going to continue, I thought. I disinfected the bucket, and left it close to the computer chair, just in case. (And, a good job too for it was more than much-used over the day. Tsk!) I took the medications and made a brew of Glengettie tea.

  To Computer Cameron, and proceeded to get myself in a right pickle with things! My concentration was all over the place. SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) was on and off bashing away at me suddenly for short periods. And, as for NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters), well, they were also on and off so often, it was damned hard work getting anything done.

I seemed to be spending more time correcting mistakes than typing! I was jumping from graphicalising, checking things on the web, forgetting where I was or what I was doing after each of the many wee-wees, and updating the Saturday post, became a grind, more than the usual pleasure!

Then, bloody Grammarly kept changing the word-checker to USA English and needed to be changed back every time. Which meant exiting the blog, into the Settings and changing from the UK English, which it is set on, to Australian English, then back to UK English, and reset, every occasion when it went wonky on me!

My frustrations flowed, fermented, and flourished. Franglefurds!

However, through my resilience, determination, grittiness, and resolution, I got the updating finished! Well, alright, I stumbled on, in stupidity, blind-faith, making numerous mistakes and errors, correcting and cursing silently away, in between the wee-weeing, and somehow, miraculously got the job completed. I felt mentally drained, and my will-power and confidence were destroyed. Globknacklebangles!

Posted off to WordPress, went on the WP Reader section, Replied and commented of messages and comment, did some Facebooking (Another long job today), Pinterested some snaps, and went to make a brew. (I think you can take it that wee-wee’s were being taken throughout the morning)

I got some potatoes in the slow-cooker, on a low setting.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And, very tasty it was too! Using the Sainsbury’s Full Cream Jersey cows milk! 

I got out the last of the fresh garden peas and started podding away. I added a drop of the fish vinegar to the pans water.

I can report that Herbert above is in good form and not poorly. The Knock-knocking, scrape-scrape, and tap-tapping, was proof of this.

The nubilous sky looked so wonderful. I did a bit of nephelococcygia-ing. But my mind in the state it is in, I lost the figures and shapes I’d identified, but found others. You can see the moon still lingering in the second picture, that surprised me!

I made a start on this blog at long last (In between wee-wees!). After several hours of slow, mistake-ridden work, I returned to the kitchen to make another brew, this time Glengettie Gold. The cloud formations had changed now. But they looked just as pretty as ever, to me.

I saw the Kodak camera and thought I’d try again to find out how, or if there was a way for me to get it on charging. I used the shorter USB connection, from the camera to the computer-port, and connected it. But I didn’t know if it was working, because the camera has no lights showing on it?

After a while, I pulled out the lead and took my first picture with the new camera. If I am to use this Kodak, first I have to find out if it is charging or not (Not sure how to do this?) Then, discover how to change the picture size to like on the Nikon and Canon, to a broader type shape. But the instructions are just too small to read, even with the glasses and using the magnifying glass! Not that might matter, cause the camera might melt in a bit, then I’ll know this is not how to use the USB connection.

I wanted, like the other two cameras, to use a direct line to the socket for charging. I expected it to be useless. They had sent an American two-pin, fit-it-together-first plug in the box. But it does not fit our English sockets. I just don’t know if it is safe or working at all?

On the screen, the power (I think) bar just show up as plain grey? I toyed with it and got nowhere, then the head and eye dizzy came on. So, I’ll just leave it, hopefully charging for a while, and keep an eye on it for sparks, flashes, or fire bursting out. I keep touching it with the left hand for any signs of increased heat, none yet, so it might not be doing anything other than damaging the computer. I’m not in a good nor contented mood at the moment! Humph! I’m worried, frustrated, and confused, yes!

The sunshine has receded now, and the drizzle commencing.

I took a picture of the view of the scene, though the balcony, with the Canon camera. The Nikon is in charge. It’s got a flashing green light now. I’m going to look on the web to see if I can find what that means, back in a bit.

Aha, the light turns off when it is fully charged. Good!

Now I’ll try to find out about the Kodak Pixpro AZ 675. Back in a bit…

Well, I’ve found the light that should be lit when charging, but it’s not. So I took out the lead from the Nikon charger, and put that in the Kodak, and the light lit up?

I’ll leave it in and hope for the best, and keep checking the camera for heat, I hope it works safely.

No time left for farting around, I have to try and work out how to change things on the Kodak for the picture sizes and shapes at a later date. I have to get some graphics done for the IT page tops, I’ve none left ready to use now. Took the cameras off of charging. With my EQ telling me there’s no need to rush?

So, on to CorelDrawing. Too tired to continue – got nosh sorted, A decent nosh, rated at 7/10.

Took the evening medications and creamed certain areas in need if the same. Furuncles, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the newly arrived whatever it is, under the armpit, a deep maroon lump, not a bruise, though?

Sleep? Ha! I couldn’t believe that my being so drained and tired, Sweet Morpheus denied me for hours! Hey-Ho!

Inchcockski – Fri 4 Sept 2020: Our hero Inchy, escapes from isolation! But it cost him dearly! Humph!

TFZer In his Cool-It-Cabin?

Wrath

Hahahaha!

Friday 4th September 2020

Latin: September 4th Veneris MMXX

00:10hrs:  After a reasonable, appreciated four hours of Sweet Morpheus, I stirred into imitation life, in need of a wee-wee. (Nothing out of the ordinary there, then, Hehehe!) 

I struggled a bit to rid myself of the STF (Slow-Trickling-Forever) wee-wee, followed by an even longer spell of frustrating AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling). I had to wait for it to finish before I dared move on. Humph!

I hobbled to the kitchenette, clouting my left ankle with Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, and nearly went over. Luckily, the door frame was handy for support. “Blooming good start, mush!” I said to myself.

Carefully, I got the kettle on, and the sphygmomanometer and stick thermometer from the medicine drawer. Aha, at long last, the low temperature had gone up! To 35.3°c. A lot better this was. But there was no getting too excited until the BP was discovered. That brought me down to earth again. The SYS was up to 167, ever-changing that is. The Dia and Pulse looked okay to me, but I’ll check on the web for what they should be later. Or if I can find where I wrote the numbers down. Tsk!

A had the pleasure of making a brew of Extra Strong Assam tea. I say pleasure because Toothache Terence was not so bad this morning. I still let the brew cool down a bit before indulging. That Sainsbury’s Jersey full-cream milk, expensive, but it tastes so wonderful. Naughty, mind!

I took the morning medications with another good gulp of the ineffective, defeasible, Peptac Antacid medicine because RLR (Rogers Laryngopharyngeal Reflux) was giving me some breathing difficulties this dark, dank, fine morning.

I’ve got the Optician appointment at 09:40hrs this morning, so I must have another early ablution session. I considered going to town afterward to the Poundland shop. Still, to be truthful, I’m a smidge nervous of going out after so long, even walking to the ophthalmologist, never mind catching buses to town. Mmm? I’ll decide when I get out of the examination room.

I pressed on with getting yesterday’s blog updated and finished. It took me five hours! Tsk! I posted it off, emailed the link, Pinterested some snaps, and onto Facebooking. They seem to have mended whatever was stopping me uploading to my albums, os I had two days worth to catch up on. Visited the TFZers and added a couple of graphics, then went on the WordPress Reader section.

The time now to get the ablutions tackled.

ABLUTIONALISATIONING INCIDENT REPORT

 Session overall rating 7/10. Good!

  • No calls to use the Porcelain Throne this time.
  • Had to be a stand-up session due to the early hour.
  • Toothache Terence was not pleased with my hurried teeth-cleaning! Drops of blood from the gums and much pain.
  • Shaving produced a few nicks and cuts; neck, behind the right earhole. A silly one last off, the left index finger, from dropsies of the razor and my swift, but stupid grabbing the Bic quickly as it fell. What a plonker!
  • The rear-end washing and medicationalisationing afterward went so well, I could hardly believe it. No bleeding from the furuncles or haemorrhoids!
  • The medicating itself was almost a pleasure today?
  • As I was ready to do the body spraying and after-shaving lotioning, etc., I observed how Arthur Itis’s patella was still bulging with the cartilage below showing through clearly now.
  • The old ankle-ulcer scar had spread out a bit, but it was still getting fainter. Almost artistic, as it moves up and towards the shin more and more? (Tate Gallery material?)
  • The body was still looking somewhat chalky-white, anaemic and cadaverous. But the Clopidogrel lumps, welts, and papules looked calmer.

The getting into the new PPs was easy as well, by the way, I forgot to mention that.

Off to the kitchen and put some potatoes in the crock-pot, and salted them with some of the sea-salt crystals, and set the low setting, so they could be cooking gently while I was out at the opticians.

It felt really strange putting shoes and socks on for the first time in yonks. Transfering the flat keys and card, bus pass, etc. to the oversized coat, it all seemed wrong, out of sync, somehow?

I’d decided I’d along Chestnut Way, then right, and walk down Winchester Street, to Mansfield Road and Sherwood. And catch a bus back up the hill. Got the collapsable walking stick in the three-wheeler trolly-guide.

I added some carrier bags to the trolley, as I planned to go in Wilko first. Down and out onto Chestnut Walk. Not many people were out and about, it was still early, around 0830hrs I reckon it was.  

I took a photo of Winchester and Winwood Courts. I didn’t notice at first, but the paramedics were on site again, which one, I didn’t know. By gum, we’re dropping like flies lately! Tsk! Despite my sadness in seeing the emergency ambulance, I pressed on casually.

I poddled along at a really steady pace, and took a picture of the obviously garden-designer corner of between Winwood and Winchester Courts, in front of the link passage between the building. No longer in use at the moment, due to Corona-19.

On to the end of the road, and turned right to go down Winchester Street. I was so annoyed to see a car parked right on the kerb. It blocked access for anyone with a disabled scooter, or Trolley-Guide from passing without having to go onto Winchester Street to get by, including me, of course. And I had to go blindly out because the view of any oncoming traffic was blocked!

All the memories of previous times this had happened flooded back to my mind! Pickleglobknobs! Boulderclumps! Brunglebogs! and Grrr!

Then as I stumbled my way beyond this car, there was some who had parked behind, and left no room at all to pedestrians to walk on the pavement! I hobbled down a bit and turned back to take this photo. Unbelievable! Cragknackles!

Then, doing me bestest not to get all rangled, or hot and bothered, I continued down Winchester Street, only to find at the end of the Muggers-Cut-through, so much rubbish! Bottles, condoms, fag-ends and packets, crisp bags, carriers and broken bits of toys, etc. scattered about.

But I also saw some white (weed?) flowers, that were seen in the middle of all the human detritus, crap, and litter. They cheered me up, they were so beautiful, delicate, and clinging to life. I wish I knew their name. ♥ Gorgeous!

*When I got into Sherwood, and onto Mansfield Road, I took a picture of towards, and away from the City Centre. I know I did, I’m sure I did! Details to come a little later in the diary.

I slowly had an amble up the road and ended up in the Wilko store. I did a search for some liquid funnels, but could not find any. However, being a controlled person I am, I did come out with £10.90 worth of unwanted, unneeded items. After getting to the counter, dropping my £20 note, then the bottle of scent crystals hit the floor, and the lady kindly coming round from the till, and packing them for me into the trolley. Fertummelt! Thank you, Madam ♥.

Up the hill a bit to the opticians! We have to ring the bell at the side of the door to gain entry. A good idea, it stops anyone without a mask on getting in! I was let in before I could ring it today.

Although I’d put in the last two hearing aid batteries, and got them in the lug-holes, hearing what people were saying was difficult with the mask on. A bit of guess-work and watch the speaker’s reaction techniqueing had to be adopted. Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehehe! I was seated, and the lady told me to have a rest for a while. Maybe the walk down the hill took more out of me than I thought – then I wondered how she knew with me wearing the mask? Mmm!

The paperwork was brought to me and we went through everything. Then I was moved into the other side of the shop-divider and was seated again. The ladies kept coming to me and saying something, I missed a lot of what was said, but they seem content with me. Then I went into the test room, and a young lady dealt with me in no uncertain fashion, not for her a sense of humour or a chinwag!

But no doubt she was under pressure, and to give her credit, she did a good job. She knew of my cataracts, cloudy vision and floaters already. I told of the changes since the last visit, which were; being diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, then the stroke, saccades, and diabetes. She was not impressed enough to make a joke or comment.

The eye test was done, all via computer and machines now. I had the first of the puffer tests; when I had a bit of bother with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley at the same time, and my right arm shot out, and I knocked over her tray of test lenses! Oh, dear, that didn’t impress the lady either! I’ve had a few Tuts’ thrown at me, but that one was the loudest ever. Oh, dearie me! More eye examining, and a second puffer session.

Then she told me she wanted to put some Mydriacyl, Minims Tropicamide eye drops in both eyes. This would help her to see behind the pupils easier to find any faults and asked me in sort of Herman Goering fashion if that was alright with me if she did the eye drop test. Was I going to say no? No chance! I’d annoyed her with not hearing what she was saying, knocked over her lenses, and couldn’t hold mu head steady enough when she was testing them, I was too scared stiff to even think of saying no!

After I’d agreed, she told me of the possible side effects: Blurred vision, feeling dizzy or faint, this may last several hours after using the eye drops. Do not drive and do not use tools or machines until your vision is clear again, and your reactions are normal. Headache, and feeling sick, but these should soon pass, but if you do not feel well, call the emergency services straight away. Well, that cheered up no-end! Hahaha! She put in the drops and told me to wait for them to work.

I was seated outside of the test room, and another young lady, very patient with me, came and told me I needed new prescriptions, and would I be using the old frames. No, I said. I told her it didn’t matter what the frames looked-like on me, as long as they were cheap and comfortable. She chose tow frames and got the paperwork done. £300 quid! I didn’t question anything, just meekly agreed. (I noticed later, there was +£52, for extras?) She may well have told me about this and I didn’t hear her.

The eyes were stinging, the blurred vision arrived, then the Sturmscharführeress lady got me back in the darkroom, and carried out her examination. ‘Everything is fine, behind the eyes!’ Thank you!

Out and got the paperwork and bill from the other woman. The right eye had got a little worse this time. Which I knew already, the peripheral neuropathy, the nerve problems and the stroke making things deteriorate more rapidly, I wasn’t surprised or worried, it was what I expected. I thanked them and they released me from the shop.

*I poddled to the bus stop up the hill and had a look on the SD card on the camera to see the photo’s I’d taken. A picture I took on the bottom corner of Hall Street, and both of the Mansfield Road photos, were not to be found! How? Why? What?

Had the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of me, now spread so they can get at me when I’m not in the flat? Scary!

The bus arrived, and I maneuvered the trolley onto the vehicle relatively quickly, a faint trace of a Smug-Mode was felt coming on, just as I was swiping my bus pass. Talk about the most inopportune time for it, but Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley burst into life, and the bus pass flew out of my hand, hit the driver, and bounced up and touched the roof of the bus, and fell behind the open door!

But it got even better, I turned to have a try at retrieving the card, and knocked the bag of shopping off of the trolley top! Argh!

A chap behind me, getting on the bus, shot to my assistance, and got the card back for me. (Bent and cracked a little now, hope it still works) Bless his cotton socks!

I felt, what’s the word, erm… muted on the trip back to the flats. The dizziness and cloudiness were starting, from the drops I’d just had, I think. I took the slowest ever walk from the bus-stop to Woodthorpe Court. I wasn’t ill or feeling poorly, I reckon it was with embarrassment.

I got inside and, for some reason, felt a bit betterer in myself? I got the magical disappearing photos camera out and took two shots with it.

Not that I expected them to come out on the card.

I was amazed to see when I got in the flat, to see how early it still was. With all of the farcical events, it felt like had been out for so much longer. 

Then I realised the wristwatch was had stopped working!

I knew some or many things were going to go wrong this morning, but I didn’t realise how severely they would be.

The INR Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic blood test results arrived.  The new INR level was 4.1, a smidge high, but nowt to fret over. I was surprised at the high dosages given for me. But, it is best if, “He who thinks but isn’t sure, no longer capable of logicality, and is uneducated, and probably in a muddle brain-wise, is advised not to waffle-on about the unknown and confusing aspects of life or death!” So, I’ll shut up. Hehehe!

I made brew of Thompsons Punjana, dropped it, cleaned it up. Got a drink of orange juice, and on the computer to update the day’s catastrophic tale of my escape from isolating. I felt a little down!

It took me hours to get this done up to here, and I had to stop, I was feeling proper-tired out now. I’ll get something to eat, it’s already gone my head-down time. Humph!

I got the meal prepared and served up, washed the dishes, etc. and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, and dined. Flavour rating: 7/10.

I took another wee-wee, and got the plate and tray in the sink to soak, and shot back to the chair, in search of sleep.

Zzz!