ODE TO THE THOUGHT-STORMS Inspired while Inchy was waiting for the action to start at his mornings’ Porcelain Throne visitation. It took a while!
The Thought-Storms on the Throne are getting nastier! No respite, the evacuation stopped halfway, I got edgier… The questions came at me; it couldn’t be crappier… It’ll be a while before the pain stops, and I feel any happier!
Any logic in the Thoughts couldn’t have been scantier… From the fear of loneliness, Putin, and questioning Santa! Should I have a mug of tea or a can of Fanta? The Thoughts mingled became silly and schleppier…
Hopes, then worries, self-pity, to pathetic fear! Strangely, after so many years, I fancied a beer! The brain was making me feel dizzy, oddly queer… The nose began to run, and it got even leakier!
My confidence in coping died, I became even qualmier… The Thought-Storm was driving me balmier… I noticed that my stomach looked lardier… And Little Inchies fungal lesion got itchier?
The Thought-Storms had me by the jugular… I tried to fool them and acted jauntier… Talking to myself, battling the brain, I couldn’t move because of the evacuation pain! The whole situation became worse again… When Neuropathic Pete got me shaking, jitterier!
I knew that later on, things would calm down, likelier… Suddenly the room felt cold, much parkier… I even began to shake and shiver? Gawd, things were getting nigglier! I felt I was going even loonier!
The evacuation flowed again, which made me panickier, Should I give a push, or leave it, which would be riskier? Then the Thought Storms got even bolshier… And the room felt like a fridge; it got so much chillier? Was I still in the recliner dreaming? Or going crazier?
Then for once, I got luckier… I stood up, feeling pluckier… The evacuation ended alright, As I pushed with all my might, It had been a struggle and fight, I’d won, no bleeding, I felt leerier…
For the Thought Storms stopped then… As stubbed my toe on the tungsten… I don’t usually appreciate the pain often… But the Thought-Storms stopping was a gem!
Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh In Ode Series
What’s lurking, waiting, for me to be worried? Dementia Doreen is to be considered… Cataracts, slowly my sight will get hid… A world war? I bet Putin’s well-bunkered Going deaf too… that would be horrid… Peripheral Neuropathy, that’s got to be feared! The falls dizzies it causes has me well wearied… My memory loses, leaving even me bewildered… But worry in itself is not to be cheered… Getting through each day, things need to be altered, I’ve taken it well, I think, not been a craven coward… Luckily life’s been crap, so I’m not too bothered… But what really annoys me… is the computer’s buggered!
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I stirred from my slumber, almost in a nonchalant mood? I worked out what day to was, and would usually have Thought-Storms, worries, fears, on my waking up – But not this morning! I felt in a laid-back sort of mood, which is something preciously rare for me. I can’t remember the last time they were absent when I was recovering consciousness.
There are the last two days even more amazing happenings. I’d not been worrying about anything at all, taking everything in my stride, even when I had all the bother with the computer… I basically thought, ‘Well sod-it! If it goes, it goes!’ I can’t be bothered with all this worrying, sod-it. Sod-it, sod-it! I knew it couldn’t last! But things are getting back to my usual worry-guts mode again.
Had a wee-wee, made a mug of Glengettie tea, and onto the computer… The Crabnabbed computer, which had had a dreaded windows update, would not let me get any photos recognised again! This really got to me. It confirmed the return on fretting and frustration were fermenting again! Took a picture of the end car park. If the computer lets me, I’ll have to add it later on, fingers crossed.
The innards gave off a rumbling, squelching sound. I decided to get the ablutions done while I was in there. No thought was given to the can of beans I’d just taken out of soaking and into the saucepan with some chilli seasoning – it may as well not have happened as my mind was concentrating on an injury-free wash and shave! Which very nearly happened. Nae bother with the nasal clearing, teeth-cleaning or shaving… not a single cut!
I felt somewhat cocky as I left the wet room, which will probably account for how I managed to get the walking stick entangled in the stand-up clothes airer; we both ended up on the floor in the hallway! I had to go on my hands and knees into the front room, and I used the rickety recliner to get back on my feet. But, no injuries, other than a knock on the elbow. Even Cartilage Cathy didn’t complain when I clunked down on the knee? It’s a funny old life, innit?
I suddenly remembered the beans in the pan! Like a greyhound out of the trap, I hastened to the kitchenette – well, I hobbled fairly quickly! All was well with the bean medley… I’d not turned the heat on! What a Plonka! So, I turned the heat on.
Carer Pricella arrived. A pretty sweet thing, she was made most welcome. She soon had the medications sorted. She kindly gave me a couple of minutes of waffling time and took the bags with her to the chute for me on her way out! 💜
I did the blogging in between nipping in to assess Josies’ meal. Managed to get some photos uploaded, but again, not all of them. Grungleturds! Got the WP comments were replied to and posted yesterday’s blog off.
I tended full time to prepping Josies’ nosh then.
Hope she likes this recipe. Chilli bean stew with extra beef, seasoned with the usual selection but added some black bean sauce, not a lot. The standard side treats and gin.
I proudly delivered Josies’ meal to her door, with an extra pot she could have later on.
I arrived a the prearranged time of between 5 to twelve and five past.
Josie was looking alright and up for a chinwag… well, more like an interrogation of what’s in the bowl. Hehehe! ♥
Then I concentrated on getting this blog started. After five hours, it still wasn’t anywhere near finished. Humph! Dementia Doreen, Cataract Cathy and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete made sure that my progress was so slow and error-ridden!
The day’s gone again? What happened? Hehe!
I’d better get my nosh sorted. Battered fish with chilli, BBQ chips and a can of garden peas, methinks… but anything could happen. Better get a move on, or the Carer might get here while I’m scoffing.
Dingledick! Again I forgot about adding the peas I’d left in the saucepan! I wondered why I’d got all that room to add the sauce on the plate. Anyroad up, I liked the mild chill flavour of the battered fish. Nice! Washed the pots, had a wee-wee, and I got done in the c1969 recliner. Put the TV on, and fell into a deep, deep sleep. Zzz!
Beautiful set of sunset photos produced, Admiration of nature induced, Forgot about my traumatologist… Appointments that I’d missed… But I must call my audiologist.
As photos go, they’re not my shabbiest. Possibly, even some of my best? Worries were temporarily dismissed… My Thought-Storms were vanquished, Natures changing colours; inspirationist, I thought I heard a harpsichordist!
I hope to see my ophthalmologist…
Cause not seeing-well makes me pissed!
Not suitable for a photographist…
My ailments thoughts were intensive…
But, these photos were recompensive,
After a day of being at my crankiest,
A few moments at my blessedest! ♥
This Ode wrote by Inchie, Who is old!
Carer Julia came in; I didn’t hear the chimes, the ears are getting worse?
I can’t remember much at all about Angel Julia’s visitation. I wasn’t really with it much, still partly asleep, methinks. That is not normal for me cause I love this gal and her helpful, patient ways. I can recall going with Julia to the front door, but that’s about it. Another mystery?
Getting back off to sleep was not easy, as tired as I was. I put the TV back on; that did the trick. I wish I’d tried that earlier than I did now.
Another slightly better night, at least once I got off to sleep. Over the past couple of weeks now, I’d been jumping awake, nervously, anything from 5-minutes to half an hour after nodding off, but I’ve always been able, once I’ve fought off the Thought-Storms, that is; to get back into the land of nod swiftly again. Last night it was getting to sleep in the first place that was the problem. I even turned on the TV cause that usually helps me fall out of consciousness. But not last night, it was ‘orrible! Once did, the waking ups started, of course, but no more often than average. Hey-Ho! I’m losing faith in the Hemp capsules already.
So, it was later than usual when I did stir back into imitation life. Not that I noticed at the time, cause the need to utilise the Porcelain Throne was soon on me. Off to the wet room, and Gawd Blimey! Another wet but willing evacuation! I got things cleaned up… and the wet room was washed and changed into day clobber, teeth, eye drops, ear drops, Germolened Little Inchies final lesion, and Germoloided Harolds Haemorrhoids. It’s a job every morning and night this is!
Made a brew of the J Sainsbury’s Extra Strong tea; this is not bad at all, but not up to the standards of Thompsons Punjana or Glengettie. Got on the computer to start updating yesterdays blog!
A flipping hard slog with the Shaking Shaun interference… I like that word, but why?
The intercom sounded and lit up. Hello, Sainsbury are good and early this morning!
I gave the deliveryman two boxes and a carrier bag. He filled with the delivered items for me, and he put them through the door in the hallway for me. I slipped him a choice of drinkies in thanks, and off he trudged.
I’d not seemed to get much this time? Before sorting them out, I had a look on the web to see the order. A good few items are unavailable, and I’d ticked the no substitutes on them. Very risky letting Sainsbury’s make substitutes, I can tell yer! Still, some of luxury, spoil-the-old man foods had arrived, Hehehe!
How the fresh cream French Horns got requested is beyond my imagination… me? Buying fresh cream French Horns? Ahem! With whole cream milk? Lemon cream desserts, too? I also tried some JS own label Extra Strong Teabags. (Not bad at all!) The cheesy twist pastries looked good. I’ll have them later on tonight. Worra feast in store!
A few minutes after getting fodder stored away, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chirped up from the doorbell, and in walked Carer Cassie. She’s brought with her the monthly prescriptions. While she was putting them away, I nattered away.
During which something came up in the one-way conversation. And as we went into the main room, I said I’d make a note to remind myself to phone the Doctor…
It then dawned on me… I could not find the Nokia! I always leave it to the computer’s right, as a rule. Where the charging cable can reach the phone from the socket?
Later, I felt an Ode coming on…
That if I could not find it this morning! When Carer Cassandra came calling… She set off, with me, both searching… My hopes were not worth a farthing, Of me discovering, finding… My beloved mobile, a precious thing… It was most irritating and frustrating… Irking and embarrassing! Cassie looked in every nook was persisting… Every room searched, drawer-jostling… Finding it? My hopes were now fading… Vascular Dementia Doreen, it was very degrading, We investigated under the chairs, it was so rilling, Cassie carried on, with no getting ruffling… Where can it be? Then I needed a wee-weeing… Off to the wet room, not easy peeing and thinking… Wondering where I’d put the danged thing!
I got back to the main room – & Cassie was smiling! ♥ With eyes that were brighter and twinkling… She pointed out where she found the phone hiding… Yes, Cassie found it, I gave her a kiss, but I was infringing, But she gave me no whinging; I started singing!
We both began grinning and laughing! I was so happy, I could have wet my underclothing! It’s lovely to find a little joy in something… Although later, I was scathing, scything, and seething… At getting in such a mess… things I’m constantly losing, I’m an expert on having things go vanishing!
With my telling her of my funny turn yesterday, I was unsure if cleaner Esther had called on me or not. Cassie pointed out that she could have moved the mobile; because the computer desk looked like it had been dusted. (which means it is usually dirty? Haha!)
Oh, I’ve not said have I, where the phone was found?It was moved a few inches from its usual position, but out of sight, underneath the keyboard! I feel a greater fool than ever now!
The blooming day was nearly gone by the time I started on this post! Getting the Monday blog finished after all the time spent searching for Nokia-Nigel, meant it cost me a total of over five hours before I got it finished and posted off. Adding the fact that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had joined with Shaking Shaun in making things nigh on impossible to type without so many errors… I should have been angry, but no… I was grateful that Cassie helped me find the mobile to use…
Then a Mega Mess! Could I remember who I was going to call in the first place? Could I ‘eck as! Now, this is just how life is going for me at the moment…
I had the oddest thoughts and confusions. I was still grateful for Cassie finding errant mobile for me, and at the same time, felt worthless and full of self-loathing for not being able to recall who I needed to call!
There are people like lovely Lisa and Sister Jane, who I want to converse with. But no time left again! The evening carer is nearly due! And I’ve not had anything to eat yet! Ah, well, no wonder I’m not sleeping well.
I did a little Facebooking answered some comments. Then had a look at the WordPress reader. I just made the WP comments; now I shall have to give up blogging and prepare some fodder prepared… I imagine I will not be back until the morning.
Really weary now, just about done in, and the fodder had to be prepared, cause sometimes even hunger can survive the onslaught of weariness. (Ah, a touch of cleverness there, I thought?)
Bean and cheese and beef pasties, naughty cheese curls, slow-cooker destroyed potatoes by doing them for eleven hours! Tsk! Roast chestnuts and, sadly, the last of the black tomatoes. However, I did make too much of a plateful, and I was running out of eating-steam and considering abandoning the by now gruelling task of shoving any more food into my gullet, and…
♫ Oh, Susan ♫ chimed out from the doorbell. I instantly morphed into a smiling, happy, hopeful and cheerful chap; the moment that I saw it was Carer Julie coming into the room!
I asked her if she had enjoyed her holiday, as the others told me she was on. But she had been poorly, not on holiday. After giving me the medications, we had a too long chinwag and laugh. I mentioned that I had not paid her yet for posting the package to Lisa and Bill for me. And forwarded the thanks of Billum for her help. Showed her some photo’s graphics I’d done of Lisa and Bill, and she showed interest. ♥
But she really had to go; I had delayed her a long enough. I insisted she tool some treats and nibbles if only to help cover the cost of her doing the mailing for me. The last two little Natoora tomatoes from the fridge were taken. I do hope she and her partner enjoy them. ♥ Said my sad farewells to Carer Julie.
Washed, got down in the awesomely uncomfortable recliner, and prepared for the arrival of Sweet Morpheus
A mention of Sweet Morpheus, or sleep…
Sometimes he won’t let me get a peep…
This makes me tired, and I want to weep,
I’ve tried, it doesn’t work, counting sheep,
Nightly the wakings up rerepeat,
Insomnolence, can it be beaten?
Tonight, I gorrof to sleep really quickly… Woke; pains from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I thought I’d been a kip for hours… ghastly… I’d slept for ten minutes at most, eerie? God of Sleep & Dreams, ignoring my sleep-deficiency? Nodding back, and again started dreaming… About ‘Man from Uncle’ Mr Waverley?
My shooting awakes, giving me hypertension… Spent a while, in fretting and procrastination, Back in the land of nod, minutes later, depression! This time shaking from failed neurotransmissions, Like a shot, back and deeply sleeping… Why and how is beyond my comprehension… Seems I’ve got a staying-asleep suppression?
Is it possible to get a sleep transfusion? Will Sweet Morpheus be open to persuasion? Can I bribe him or offer complete adulation? Every time I nod off, I awake in absquatulation… Can one invent a sleep button? Press for activation? Or will I continue suffering mental altercation?
The Pure Hemp is bringing no sleep satisfaction… I can see no improvement in my nocturnal hibernation, I suppose I’ll be left with new mental disorientation, I crave rest at times; there’s no commiseration, I’d see the Doctor, but that’s another complication, Hearing on the phone, she bounces back my email communication,
I see no way to make things better, somnambulatorily, Fact is, today, I feel pretty poorly… Awaiting the next Whoopsie… Willing life to be hassle-free… Asking profound questions of me… Getting self-answers, of fiddledeedee!
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!
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.
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!
Sunset shots, no idea when from, sometime in the last three days I’ve been without the capability to upload.
Yesterday morning (Maybe?) Colin Cramps was paining me, All night long, eight hours, no sleep, scarily, But still, in wealth, health, finances and pecuniarily… I have no worries… I am totally hassle-free… I’m lying here, to a certain degree… I can’t walk properly… It’s harder than ever to see… Arthur Itis murdering the knee… Constantly I need a painful wee-wee, Lost the remote control for the TV! Using the Porcelain Throne leaves things increasingly phooey! And to varying degrees, it’s always bloody! So many medications, I’m becoming a druggie, Of pains, aches, worries, fears… I’m never free! Diabetes stops me from eating chocolate and toffee… Always some other medical examinee… Vascular dementia has taken my minds synchronicity, More operations are due, but that’s just a technicality, I’m coping well, really, but with a vulnerability… Too occasional depressions and pathetic self-pity, Yet, I’ve a gift of physical, not mental, survivability, Sometimes, I have an outlook of determination and doability… Often prevented from actioning by my docility… Yet, I press on, causing more damage, such is my senility… Why did the Lord give me life, but not the ability? Fair enough, he gave me more than a fair share of verbosity, And great bonus, in a massive bouncebackability, But far too much instability and aperiodicity? Not to mention my fretting, worrying and trepidity, Oh, I said them – that’ll be the memories absentia! Psychasthenia, I’ve avoided, I’m glad to say it’s not obligatory, Thank Gawd, for my beloved Lisa, Jenny and Jillie 🧡
Made up some Polish pork sarnies, so good they tasted! Planned it for them to be ready, To eat it watching the telly… Heartbeat was on… but I soon capitulated!
I’ll turn on the telly a fine-looking nosh, and I waited… Again, my plans had been incapacitated… The TV remote had absquatulated! Spend so much time searching, going wud! The meal went stone-cold; it could not be ameliorated! No TV, eyesight too bad to read; aggravated! Hearing no good to listen to the radio… The remote control was not appropriated! After a lengthy search, of finding it, there was no likelihood, I was self-annoyed; I could have spat blood! At least the sandwiches tasted really good! A Dark Depression accumulated… As the next Whoopsiedangleplop, I awaited…
The following day I woke, and photo’d the feet, The limbs looked okay, felt alreet, Colin Cramps was easier last night, his pains petite, Then, as I moved, the action was only slight… Arthur Itis attacked – in the right knee, with all his might! Hearing myself whimper made me uptight, I struggled to move and was not very sprite… Then, went to Phorpain it… What a sight!
My disjointed but prettily coloured patella.
The sort of knee one may find on a troglodyte? No sunshine for them either, very little light, But I was more concerned with the failing eyesight, I make myself a sarnie, using Vegemite… Just two little slices, more weight I will not incite,
It was cold, misty and windy tonight, Got the camera, the end car park to highlight… Will the computer let me import? Well, it might… Good heavens, it did! Much to my delight!
The red van on the no-parking zone is like a benchmark, It’s never been known to park up properly, I remark… The van reminds me vaguely of the Bismarck?
Sod it! The knee cap’s come out, off to the hospital!
Future Sports, Covidity, and Politics, unsung,
Including Boris, Cummings, even Cameron,
I threw myself into creating these, then the phone rung…
Told me the Bank is closing its branch… that’ll be fun!
A bill from the Council, Carers Fees, that stung!
Two weeks ago, Meridian arranged a direct debit…
About as reliable as Norman Tebbit!
The extra handicap of the reaction to the Booster Jab; made my doing anything, taking an inordinately much longer time than usual. Thus, it was nearly midnight last night by the time I’d got the blog finished and posted. Although aching and in pain, and really needed to get some sleep. The mind and body wanted to close down. But, Inchcock, an epicurean, foodie, glutton, gourmet, chow-hounder, and well-known foodaholic, put an end to any thoughts of joining in with any Sweet Morpheusness for a while.
I foolishly started to make a belated meal, and a mini-feast it was too! At last, come around about 01:00hrs, I got it served up.
Raw fresh peas from Nigeria. (Shame the ones from Peru are not available, they were sweeter than the Nigerian ones by a mile, but beggars can’t be choosers when things are out of season) Oven-baked potato slices, tomatoes, crispy smoked bacon was the main course. The bacon was eaten in slices of milk roll bread and was dunked in some absolutely great tasting Thai sweet chilli sauce. I was satisfied with the substituted bottle; as for where I got it from, well, I’ll get some more from Amazon.
Which reminds me, I’ve got some diabetic bamboo socks delivered today. Well, that’s what I say! Bearing in mind my cock-up stroke Whoopsiedangleplop with Sainsbury’s and Morrison’s order dates, I get them arriving yesterday; when my Google calendar clear says that the Sainsbury one is coming Monday and the Morrison one on Tuesday… I’m sinking into the morass mess of mental mayhem of memory mishaps. It has to be admitted. Vascular Dementia Doreen is to blame, methinks.
Of course, you have to bear in mind that it is me we are talking about! No chance! Anyway, I feasted well, did some belching, took an extra Codeine, and flaked out on the recliner searching for sleep…
Sleep as I recall it, when I got up for my fifth wee-wee, at 03:00hrs, seemed far away, a luxury denied me again! Thought Storms Stewart kicked of the instant the eyelids drooped and threatened to nod off. It’s incredible how many things you can fear, hate, smile and laugh about, returning memories to torment you on your failed options and actions. Self-disgust, the injustices of those in charge, shames… not to mention the ailments having a go at you. I had no idea what time I got off into the land of nod, but I kept waking up thinking, I’d better get up, the carer will be here soon – then nodded off again.
The Doctor’s response to this problem when I spoke with her (a few years ago now, of course) Was, “Yes, many older people get this… any other problems?” I decided not to bother her further.
As I woke for the umpteenth time and was going through the routine of planning to get up, then falling asleep again, the door chime rang out its loud, ♫ Oh, Susanna ♫ tune. Gawd, it was late! Carer Richard came in to find a foggy-brained Inchcock staggering up out of the recliner. Hahaha! Fair enough, he does usually find me fuddle-brained anyway.
Richard asked the required medical question, as they do on a Monday. And did a wristlet alarm check to ensure the signal was getting through to the Nottingham City Homes people.
It was his last call, and I enjoyed a little nattering and moaning session with the lad. I thanked and treated him, and off he went.
Then as I put the kettle on belatedly, I took some shots of the morning’s misty views from the kitchenette window.
The photographs didn’t help my spirits much, Didn’t cheer me up; I still felt I was a bit of a schmuck, An old man, (Gillie) again being lovestruck… If she was to adopt me, I’d be thunderstruck!
I wonder when the socks will arrive, they’re made of bamboo, Had to get some; it’s too cold not to wear them now, Boo-Hoo! I’ll check the Amazon tracker; that’s what I’ll do… Nine stops away, couldn’t ask for better, could you! The socks seem to be of reasonable value… One can’t say that very often of Amazon, can you?
In an effort to cheer missen up, I perused the box of gifts that HRH Lisa and Billum had sent to me from Fort Thomas in the USA. I know, I wasn’t going to open it until Christmas Day, but anyway…
The box within the box was so pretty, it had to have been decided on by a lady. I put it on the server trolley and investigated away! But I’ll not put them on display until Christmas day.
Just look at all the work Lisa must have put into making these for me!
She even named them for me in the card she sent with them! ♥
Crazy Furry Goat (Goliath), Long Eared Rabbit (Roger), Wacky Cat Kawaii. Pink Fuzzy Monster (Malcolm), Rudikth, the Red-Nosed Reindeer! The names in brackets are those I’m considering giving them when they get on display and become along with Koala and Teddy Bear, my morning chinwagging partners! ♥
I’ll have to make sure I give them names that I might remember. Otherwise, they will get confused about who I am talking to if I use the wrong word. Hehehe! They put in some ‘Moon Pie’ cakes as well. They are not available in the UK. And they look rather tasty! I shall not indulge until Christmas day!
When I showed them off to the carer who came to check on my medicines stock, she thought they were just like a Wagon Wheel. When I put a picture of an unopened lemon Wagon Wheels on my blog a while back, Billum said how they looked like Moon Pies. Thus they sent them to me to try. Bless their cotton socks! ♥
♥ Thanks again, HRH Lisa and Billum! ♥
The door chime rang forth again;
♫ I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee, I’m going to Louisiana, my true love for to see It rained all night the day I left; the weather it was dry The sun so hot I froze to death; Susanna, don’t you cry. Oh, Susanna, don’t you cry for me cos’ I come from Alabama With my banjo on my knee… ♫
The daycarer from the Meridian office was the day carer; she’s come to check that my medical stocks were sufficient for over the holidays. She thought the Moon Pies were like Wagon Wheels… Oh, I’ve already said this, I guess, sorry!
She thinks I’ll need some more Codeines getting in to last me. Which is not surprising, with all the extras I’ve been taking; What with the 15hr agony of the hospital trolley marathon, the bruised bum, then the absolute nightmare of the reaction to the booster-jab, I think I needed, they got me through anyway. I expect someone somewhere to believe I’ve become addicted, however, and another lecture from the Doctor, of course, over the phone.
Another Escapee Pea!
Making a fresh brew, I trod on something rock-hard on the kitchen floor, almost like an electric shock, it made, jump a smidge. It seems lately that these escapee garden peas are coming out of hiding regularly? Haha!
I checked again in the Mazon bamboo sock front situation. And guess what? As you see, this was the message I got from them. Delivered today; your package was left near the front door or porch. Well, it hadn’t been! I got myself into a mini-flap when I wondered if it had been delivered to Winchester Court in error?
So, I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Warden, Desktop Dancer, and who is also not interested in adopting me! Tsk! It’s just not fair! She said it might be downstairs in the lobby; I mentioned Winchester Court, she said the flat is empty. I had a vision of them leaving the stuff outside the door of an empty apartment – if so, it would not last long! Deana said she’d look for me and let me know. I thanked her and returned to the computer in another failed effort.
Hehe! Ferreting around for something to nibble, I came across the packet of new mini-cheddars I’d ordered, but I resisted the temptation. I’ll have them later when I’m more depressed or even hungrier.
The right arm looked betterish, and the pain has subsided a lot now.
Little Inchies fungal lesion had not bled all day. I liked that a lot! But I am in no way being fooled; it’ll come again!
The legs (the Knees) had improved beyond recognition this Monday. I had a job to recognise them as my own. Although, Arthur Itis was getting a little frisky with it when I was writing this.
Warden Deana Saves The Day
Deana rang the door chime and entered – with the parcels of socks in her hand, bless her! They had been left down in the front lobby by the Amazon delivery urchin. Along with several other packages for different people! I thanked her kindly.
Cleaning the teeth broke another tooth, The few teggies left are getting corrosive, But I wash brushing a little aggressive, Shaving, not a single cut or nick, Showered, I almost felt hygienic… On the radio, the London philharmonic, Stubbed my toe; that was chronic… But, I don’t want to nitpick, Even though I tripped over the walking stick!
Food Glorious Food
The dessert was a bit special. On the label, it read; Raspberry Gourmet Greek-style thick & creamy live yoghurt with fruit layer. Confusing innit? Tasted okay. Cooked seasoned sliced Polish pork knuckle with seasonings sarnies, Nigerian podded peas, and crispy chips (oven fries). Flavour rating; 8/10.
Late Phone Call
A call from the opticians came in. Which left me more confused than ever. According to the lady calling me, I did not have an appointment with them. But when I called in there last week on my way to the dentist, I called in to book an appointment, got home and put a date in the calendar, January 4th 2022. She said they had not made an appointment for me?
I’m getting mixed up here; back to the phone call: She asked if I could come in the morning (today at 09:00hrs for an eye test? Presumably, they had had a cancellation?).
Being the keen attentive, alert, sharp sort of person that I’m not, I made another Whoopsiedangleplop; I told her her ‘Yes’ I’d come. Then realised I had the Amazon order coming? Too late to get help ringing her back; the staff had all gone!
Evening Carer Valerie arrived, and I soon fell asleep after she’d gone.
Fed up! Woke up wide awake at midnight and got this blog finished and posted, a little late, but betterer late than never!
Getting bad again, people dying, others in pain,
Those who moan about a lockdown again…
Others worried; what will a lockdown gain?
Well, it might just prevent some folks from death and pain!
Has compassion and caring… has gone down the drain?
We can’t stay in our homes forever’ say residents in one of Nottinghamshire’s most vaccinated areas
Ed Cleator, 42, who works as a product manager, lives in Tollerton – and he told Nottinghamshire Live that getting the vaccination was the best thing to do. “We can’t all hide, we can’t all stay in our homes forever so you’ve got to do something – that is the best thing to do for everybody,” said Mr Cleator.
I agree with his wanting folk to get vaccinated – even if it’s all a worldwide con by pharmaceutical companies to make money, or Governments to increase taxes without much resistance, or part of Tony Blair’s ploy to get back into number ten! Maybe even an undeclared invasion plot by the planet Omnicronski?
However, despite the Conspiracy Theorists, who march en masse without wearing masks and demand not to be forced to put on a facemask in shops… well, anywhere really, people are still dying.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS
What’s with all the gun-crazy youths nowadays?
I see little incentive to give them praise,
Mayhaps they are scared, to get their takeaways…
Cause the other spotty-faced youths and tearaways…
Might also have guns, used in the shadows and subways?
Though now they use them in shops and on highways…
My hopes for the future beings, it just dismays!
Nottingham Police Alert!
The Nottingham Police seem to have failed to notice the odd printing on this Alert. These are the people we trust to catch criminals, be alert themselves, investigate murders, robberies, muggings, shoplifting etc. every day in my City.
Off fog-off! Hehe!
Hope they’ve not been defanged!
So, Her Honour, Judge Julia Warburton, then decided, after being conned by the defence money-grabber lawyer, Ms Hocknell, into thinking the 21 times being sentenced criminal, only did it through being drunk? So, she doesn’t even send him to prison, but helps him by putting him on a sort of AA meeting list? A suspended sentence, as Ms (Lets vote Liberal) Hocknell told the so-called judge; He’d reached the end of the road in what prison can do for him? Namby-pamby pillocks like her, giving help, without any thought for the next victim, for I guarantee there will be one, the fact the swine could have killed someone being drunk and driving as well, no licence, no insurance etc. The inconvenience suffered by the victims… Pathetic!
Part of the Inchcock Local News Snippets Series
Sorry, it’s a late blog, but I, but I’ve been u tp the neck in it trying to get caught up[ after 19hr visit to the hospital. And, my sweetheart Gillie, who does not want to adopt me, is far too young for me, the best-looking female I’ve seen in donkey’s years, a kind gal, who gets my ticker going at a fair rate, came home with me today. After going with me for the Booster jab, shopping, and heartstring-pulling. I must ask her to let me take a photograph of her, I forgot to take the camera with me as well. Ah, ♥
After trying out ballroom dancing at the Youth Social Centre and being told by one well built, highly desirable busty young lady: “Your dancing reminded me of a pregnant rhinoceros that, with three legs, suffered from an overindulgence of alcohol!” I stopped.
Then, off to the Youth Club, and tried my hand at Jiving. When! More my style, although I was a total failure and spent far too much time picking myself up from the floor and getting an elbow or fist in the face, I also had to give that up. After I was banned from the Youth Club for accidentally putting Sandra’s shoulder out.
Then, it arrived – The Twist!
The current girlfriend was not a fan of the twist at all. And became an un-girlfriend. Sob! But being a romantic, look-at-me-go type of young lad, I’d already had my eye on Margaret, a locally-bred gal, and love of the twist brought us together. She was a couple of years older than I, and the Locarno Dance Hall was the first to be holding a dedicated Twist only night. So we arranged to visit.
Expensive mind you; 2/6d (12½d) to get in. But, I was determined to show off my ‘Twisting skills’, So enthusiastically practised and honed, to what I thought was perfection, in my bedroom for many an hour into the night. This was my chance to impress!
Queuing Up To Get In
We whippersnappers queued early on in the night,
The mood was good; nobody wanted to fight,
No talking back then, of gigabyte, megabyte, or terabyte,
No mobile phones or headphones were in sight…
Time for the doors to be opened, I was uptight;
Margaret hadn’t turned up… still, my chance for the limelight?
Searching Out A Partner!
I got in, and was cool, as they played ‘Twist and Shout’,
Time to have a decker around and pick a girl out…
I found one; she was over six feet and rather stout…
But I went over to try my best lines out…
Her breath smelt of Vodka and brussels sprout,
But her bosom swelled as I got my wallet out…
We were soon on the dancefloor for a workout!
I was enjoying that…
The gal and I did jive, had a jolly good shakeout,
The bouncer came over, and said ‘It’s Twist night!’
I said, well, it doesn’t matter nowt!
He hit me and threw me out!
I was a bit disappointed…
I felt a proper fool; the gal stayed behind, sacre bleu!
I legged it home miserable and made a brew…
Had some leftover rabbit stew…
Two bottles of Guinness too…
Then I had to spew…
That was the end of Twisting debut…
Time for a proper chinwag with Alto-Ego Inchie. Who I consider as much a mental ailment like all the other medical ones. I am determined to free myself of his persistent, nagging interference in my thoughts. His mission it seems to me is to make me feel guilty, inadequate, inconsequential, ineffective, and insignificant.
Which he has in fact already successfully achieved.
Although, possible beyond the understanding of anyone normal mortal, and maybe anyone who does not have a cruel, Alto-Ego, nagging away, analysing, mocking and criticising your every decision, and choice, one makes or decides on.
This natter took place last night as I lay in bed, with the notepad near to hand, and took place in several episodes! Sleep was certainly not an option for me…
Inchcock Opens The Chinwag Session:
Inchcock: I can sense your sneering and contempt Inchie, and I have to say you are a bane!
Inchie: Huh! Do yer fink I like being stuck in your brain!
Inchcock: Then go away, stop giving me mental pain!
Inchie: What the hell do think it’s like in here? In your dithering, feckless, vacillant thought-filled indecisive brain?
Inchcock: That’s it, go on, put me down, mock again…
Inchie: From human contact, you should refrain…
Inchcock: You said that when we last spoke, now again?
Inchie: Oh, a comeback from Inchcock, I’ve heard better insults from solid lepidomelane!
Inchcock: Erm… lepidomelane? Wot’s that then? Explain!
Inchie: When you read fings, facts you should retain!
Inchcock: Did I read about lepidomelane?
Inchie: Yer! In 1963, yer pea brain!
Inchcock: I’ve got Vascular Dementia, mental pain…
Inchie: Oh shurrup! Abarght time yer took yer Novocain?
Inchcock: You’ve changed the topic, confused me, yer know that makes me go brain-lame!
Inchie: Course I do, you pillock, I’ve had enough of this game…
Inchcock: What games that’s then, are you on cocaine?
Inchie: Yer coming owt with the insults tonight Inchcock! Enough! This topic’s getting too urbane… Alright, I’ll piss off then!
Inchcock almost nodded off, when Inchie Returned!
Inchie: Hey-up, I’m calling back in defiance!
Inchcock: Why? Have no cognisance!
Inchie: Thought I might catch you on the loo, by chance…
Inchcock: You ‘horrible scumball! You no allegiance?
Inchie: Allegiance? Any idea wot that means?
Inchcock: I learnt that when in my teens!
Inchie: Huh! Gonna give me more gibberish?
Inchcock: Well, thanks for your pertinent attendance…
Inchie: Eh? Playing tricks? Do you mean good riddance?
Inchcock: Well, yes, I do, I’ve had enough of your cruel words!
Inchie: Wot, me? You’re the one spouting insulting words…
Inchcock: Am I? I was just making some lemon curds…
Inchie: What out off… Turds?
Inchcock ignored the Alta-Ego – With Difficulty Mind
He mellowed a little, and went deep in thought, until Inchie returned, and was ready to mislead the interloper…
Inchie: Wotsup, dogbreath? Pissed-off again, blockhead?
Inchcock: Oddly I thought that is what would be said…
Inchie: What’s yer game, that was said well mannered?
Inchcock: It’s up to us both, kill this mutual arguing, time to get together, and start apologising… not endangered!
Inchie: What? Am I being outmanoeuvred?
Inchcock: No mate! My wish is for you to get scunnered!
Inchie: You mean like, we get together and schnockered?
Inchcock: That’s it, we can have our relationship bettered!
Inchie: Summat wrong ‘ere… you and me, get stonkered?
Inchcock: Yea… let our animosity be withered!
Inchie: Why? you dare not… your lily-livered!
Inchcock: Hahaha! Such a poetic turn of phrase!
Inchie: Well, I’m not used to giving praise…
Inchcock: Oh, it’s easy, ns so many ways…
Inchie: Worra yer mean?
Inchcock: We could take time out, play the Steinways…
Inchcock: Go on holiday, as stowaways?
Inchcock: Have a drink, see where our hands stray…
Inchie: Hang on, are you after me body?
Inchcock: No, you haven’t got one, although you can have some control over mine, anyway ♥,
Inchie: Not ‘aving that… but then I couldn’t… could I?
Inchcock: not sure, but I’d risk it if you will. I’m free on Wednesday?
Inchie: Erm… I’m not used to this, who’s gonna pay?
Inchcock: You pay in enjoyment, we both can on the day?
Inchie: Hey, hey, hey… Could we just stop arguing, and have a laze?
Inchcock: Certainly, and we could have a few hoorays?
Inchie: I feel my emotions coming ablaze…
Inchcock: I could bring some bottles… Chardonnays?
Inchie: Surely it can’t be done? No ways!
Inchcock: You Pratt! You’re only in my mind! Best then if we return to our mental, non-verbal affrays!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchcock was arrested and rushed to the Psychiatric Hospital by paramedics, after being caught making rigorous love to his non-existent Alto Ego Inchie, in the balcony of his flat this evening.
The Doctor told the Inchcock Today reporter: “We managed to stop his weeing with excitement, and finally convinced him was not having sex for the first time in his life. He is currently being treated for Psychotic Manic Depression.
Luckily the Doctor on duty had treated Mr Inchcock several times before over the years and had a straight jacket to hand.
Inchcock is expected to be released in a few years, providing he doesn’t kick the bucket earlier! (He’s getting on a bit)