Inchcock Today: Diary & Odeing

Inchcock would like to start this blog with one of his more heartwarming efforts, Ode-wise. Sentimental, uplifting, exhilarating style of Odeing. It’s part of his self-declared “I’m fed up with hearing myself moan” policy. Thank you!

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Wednesday 3rd August 2020

I spent five hours head down in the recliner last night. If I got about three hours of sleep, I was lucky. One of the worst “Shoot awake & nod-off again” nights ever. At 07:45hrs, A real shaking of a wakeup, with the need for a wee-wee, forced me to scramble free of the c1966 recliner and over to the overnight bucket. I failed to get Little Inchie out in time! Gragnangles! Off to the wet room. I was in a bit of a state, so decided to get another stand-up wash and a change of PP’s naturally. I gave the shower a go, just to see if might work, but there was no noise from the drain-forcer, and the red light came on, so I quickly turned it off at the power again. A got a stand-up washing of the affected areas. New pants on, and back out to the kitchenette to get the kettle on.

Carried out. With another set of fantastic results to savour.

SYS a phenomenal 126!
DIA at 69

Pulse 82
Body temperature 33°f

Couldn’t ask for a better set of figures. Why, I’m down to near normal and in the green, to boot!
07:45hrs: Richard arrived, and he seemed in a slightly perkier mood today at first. But when he sat down, the yawning began again. After interrogating him, Hehehe! I discovered he’s had a bad night again.

He showed me the monitor the Diabetes clinic had fitted on his arm. He scans it twice a day, and the results go straight through to the hospital. True monitoring and a very natty system. Glad he’s got it, so a professional eye can keep tabs on his sugar level.

Not much time for nattering this morning, although he didn’t rush me at all. His body language and my EQ told me he wanted to get away early, and that’s fair enough for me. Hobbled him to the door, where he picked up the waste bags. Made sure that he’d got the bag of treats and wished him some sleep as we parted.

I spent hours on getting this blog template started, but it was hard work; the eyes are not so good, and it was a medley of mistakes, errors, correcting, and then finding the corrections were wrong as well! Time flew by, and I had so many breaks for wee-wees that I thought they would never stop! They didn’t, but did slow down a little after 14:00hrs!

My toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy neighbour above kicked off with venom. And continued on and off, firth next five hours. Still, it’s nice to know he’s still alive.

The rumbling innards suddenly got more volatile, with involuntary emissions of wind from the hind quarters. And off on a hobble to the Porcelain Throne. One of the oddest visits in a long time. I got sat down on the Throne, and much wind escaped, but nothing else. I waited patiently, having a go at the crossword; for some reason, I could read the clues with less difficulty than usual. There’ll be a reason for that. If you find it, can you let me know, please?
Anyway, I gave up. got the pants and trews back on and was opening the wet room door, and winds started coming again, accompanied by the rumbling and grumbling innards. Back onto the Throne… for a repeat performance. seems likely that Constipation Konrad is in charge of the bowels, then? Another surrender, with that feeling that something has to, or will erupt at any time now. Most uncomfortable!

As I got into the hallway, with perfect timing, I was only two feet away from the panel: and the intercom rang forth! Yes, YES, it was the plumber arriving to investigate the shower!!!

He was a nice, patient chap. Listened s I explained at I was doing when the alarm went off, and he investigated for me. Five minutes later, he’s got the shower working again. And took the time to tell what had gone wrong with it. A filter had been blocked, and he’s changed it, well cleaned it up, good as new. Explained to me that if a lot of people use the showers at the same time, especially in the higher flats, sometimes the pressure changes. If this happens again, turn it off, and try again in a few minutes. I thanked him and insisted he take a cold drink from the fridge in thanks. Grrreat!

Put some potato cubes in the oven and made an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow morning. Then got the potatoes in the oven. I’m just having the spuds with some of Jenny’s donated tomatoes, I think. After eating this, maybe I can get some catching-up sleep. But, will I be able to?

MEMORY BLANKS:
Found this photo in the morning. Not the foggiest memory of making it or eating it… But when I saw this, a taste of the veggie burgers came into my mouth.
I think I liked it. Haha!.

Memory regained: When woke me up when she arrived. Obviously, I must have fallen asleep. I was so drowsy after she stirred me that maybe I’d just got off to sleep? It took me awhile to get things together? I remember getting her a cold drink from the fridge and Valerie leaving, then it was head down again… That was it until 00:20hrs when I woke in need of a wee-wee…

A most peculiar evening.

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 2nd August 2022

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TUESDAY 2nd AUGUST 2022

07:20hrs: I burst back into the world of woes with the regulation jump, jerk and jabberwockies. Realising how late it was, I climbed out of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a tatty recliner, was on the way to unlocking the door for Carer Richard and I had to nip into the wet room.
The actual evacuation was even easier than the last three days or so. But messier, you can’t win them all.
It was the worry over the water flood in the room that spoilt my pleasure with the rare good Throne visit. The water does not seem to lessen at all overnight, and, I admit, it made me nervous to walk in the water to get to the sink for a stand-up wash and shave. I chickened out. Cowardy cowardly custard! I can remember a year or so ago when the drain stopped working, and my going in to get the ablutions done… Mostly I remember the walking stick slipping in the water and my falling and entangling myself with the sock glide. The cuts and bruises took ages to clear up.

Hopefully, the maintenance will arrive today to have a look at the shower problem. I hope so because I must be ponging a bit by now, going showerless for so long. I’ve just had a sniff… Yep!

Arrived, and I’d forgotten again to unlock the door for him. He was in a rush this morning, so very little nattering was allowed. A inquired about his getting some sleep, but he was down in the mouth as he told me of the 24-hour gas works outside where he lives still drilling away and partiers making a racket again. Gave him some lager, teacakes and a bottle of Inchcock’s Special Brew. (That be a litre of Schweppes tonic water, with some orange cordial added, and stored overnight in the fridge for him). I thought it might cheer him up a bit; I got the first smile off of him as he left, taking the waste bags with him to the chute for me. Poor lad.

I got out the checking gear for sphygmomanometerisationing and the temperature reading.

I thought it was an idea to open the balcony windows to let a bit of fresh air in while I did the HCs… having not had a shower, no signs of any NCH maintenance man arriving yet. The howling wind encouraged me to close the doors again.

The results were heartwarming, all good readings again, and I was back down into the amber zone! The third time in three weeks!

Back on the computer, Cleaner Esther came in to get the laundry things. And she did not tell me off about a single thing! Mind you, she has to come back with the washing yet, so we’ll see. Hehe! She doesn’t frighten me!

Is back at his hobby, making steam trains for charity. I’m not sure if he makes so much noise on purpose or not. Hope he doesn’t kick off late at night again.

The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune rang from the door chime. My heart gladdened and burst with joy at the thought of the Nottingham City Homes plumber arriving to sort the shower out for me… Humph! It was neighbour Josie returning the things from her Sunday-Monday meal delivery. It was nice to see her, but all I said was not heard nor answered; she had not got her hearing aids in. So I smiled effusively and often. I never did find out if she enjoyed the meals or not. Bless her!

A text message came through on my G6 Nokia Lumia 929 Icon mobile phone. Only joking!
I thought it might be from the NCH plumber (again, I am a fool), but no, it was EE trying to sell me some crap for when I go abroad to save money! Another flutter of hopefulness, utterly destroyed!

♫ Oh, Susana’s ♫ tune rang from the door chime. Aha! Is this the NCH plumber? Nope, it was Esther returning. She explained that she was going to South Africa for three weeks’ holiday but had someone who could cover for her. She phoned the lady, Carol, who came to check me out. Nice lady, an ex-carer, and agreed to do the washing for me after Esther had explained my problems. They left together. Now waiting for Esther to return, and she did. She’d spoken with Deana to see what day they may be coming. Deana has reported it. It’s just a case of waiting now… Fancy that!

With so little sleep, I am getting irritable with myself, I think. Not with others, just with me. Not much chance of catching up on the sleep, well, none! I’ve got to stay awake to have the slightest chance of hearing the intercom when they arrive. If I go into the wet room, I can’t hear it, so, no opportunity to address my filthy stinking body with a stand-up wash and shave… risky (tumbles, slips) anyway with water still on the wet room floor… I’m not a winner, am I?

I got creative when I went to make a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. Ailments have stopped me from taking landscape photographs long since. So I took two snaps of the view from the kitchen window, put them together and trimmed them with CorelDraw. This is the outcome: Rather semi-pleased with this.

After making the brew, it had gone a smidge dark, and I took this picture of the wonderful if dank clouds this afternoon.

Good for Esther to arrange cover for her holiday. Time to get something to eat, methinks. So I did!

I knew it would happen. I fell asleep. No idea if any plumbers arrived and could not get in cause I couldn’t hear the intercom. If I can wake up early enough in the morning, before the NCH plumbers arrive, I will have to risk having a shave and stand-up wash and be ready for the ‘Will they come today’ big wait-in. Again!

Sharon arrived to wake me up. Medications given. Cold drinkies from the fridge in appreciation chosen.

On with updating this blog. Then on the WP Reader, answered a mass of comments came in on this blog. Got them both replied to.

The landline rang; it was Nathaniel from the Diabetes Defence Team. It was hard to hear everything he said, but I think I got the gist of the call. He told me to attend the next session on Friday 12th August.  He would stay behind afterwards and talk me through the missed first session. Being aware of Dementia Doreen, I asked him to please rng Warden Deana to inform her, so she can arrange transport – explaining that I feared I may forget to ask her. He said he would, and I thanked him profusely.
Getting back may be dodgy, might need a bus or tram, then two more buses, to get back to the flats. Being a Friday evening, there will be no Wardens or Carer boss available if there are any problems encountered. I am a worry-guts!

I did it again. Drifted of to sleep, and I was woken by Carer Sarah. Who got the medications sorted, and I forced a treat from the fridge on the gal in thanks. ♥ I checked the texts on the super new G6 Nokia phone to see if any messages had come in from Nottingham City Homes about the shoer repair attendance. Nothing on it, so I hope I’ve not missed them. Sarah said they do not call on non-emergencies after 17:00hrs.

Which got me thinking. I could get a stand-up shave and wash when Sarah has gone. I can lock the front door and dive into the wet room, and if I take extra care throughout, can I still get the ablutions done? After dithering a while, I gave myself the go-ahead.
Worra, good session! I carefully blocked off the flood water with a mop bucket, and I pulled the shower curtain over the other area. Then if I wandered into the danger area without thinking, the noise of either obstacle should alert me to the danger – it worked a treat! Fair enough, it did cause a , but it saved me having a tumble. I was proud of myself for once. No bleeding teeth, not a single nick shaving! Yes! And, just a few small flecks of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had not been bleeding at all – plenty of stinging, of course, when I medicated the little unused other than for wee-weeing thing. Hehehe!

I came out of the wet room, a cleaner, sweeter-smelling Inchie. (Aftershave, deodorant, and the smell of Germoloid and Germolene creams helped. Hehe!) And had o go back in for a rear-end evacuation. Always something, whenever I begin to feel smug! It was a delayed action, a sudden swift and spurting movement, and so messy as things got sprayed to amazing distances. Cleaning it up also needed care to avoid slipping on the standing water. Still, I got it all sorted. Grade Two .

I sky when I got into the kitchen, was looking fantasic. I’ll put the earlier shots I’d taken here, with the latest one last. I’ll make the shots a little larger, so they can be appreciated. What a change!

A feast for the eyes. When I get cataracts done, I can really
relish watching them again.

I carried in with updating and posted this blog off to WP.

Then made the Ode below.

Inchcock Today: Monday 1st August 2020

I’m sorry that I woke up!
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06:15hrs: I woke; I wouldn’t have bothered if I’d known what was coming to me…
I was partly forced out of the recliner, but the need for the Throne to be used. It went tremendously well, as it happens, but as I stood up to get the ablutions done, I realised there was water near the shower drain. I checked the power-point, and it was off. The showerhead was dripping water too? Flummoxed, I turned on the power, I turned on the shower, a little water dripped, an alarm sounded, and a red light flashed, so I turned everything off.
I’ll have to ring Deans at 09:00hrs and Meridian about the transport that didn’t come for the diabetes course on Friday.

Got the health checks done. SYS 142, DIA 56, Pulse 76, and the body temperature was 34°f.
The wee-wees were far too frequent for my liking, but there you are; Ageing and ailments, you know!
Put the figures into the NHS DVT check site and was pleased to see me barely in the red zone.

Richard arrived. With the kerfuffle of the shower Whoopsies, I’d forgotten to unlock the door. Tsk! The lad listened to my problems and filled in the booklet the Diabetes sent me with my details. He read something of the small printed advice note to me, but my hearing was not good, and he spoke a little quickly. Understandable, as he had another call to do, he did his best to set my mind at ease… but nothing less than getting the diabetes mess and shower repaired would ease my mind. On his way out, a lovely lad, Richard, took the waste bag to the chute.

I started this blog template, and soon it was gone 09:00hrs, and I could call Deana and Meridian for help. I rang Deana; first, the call was diverted. Then called Meridian, who was also redirected to their head office. I didn’t want them involved, so I rang off.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and tried to ring Natalie again. I did feel a fool – I’d intended to ring Natalie and was chattering away and realised I’d rang Deana! to blame. She resisted laughing and kindly said she would ‘pop in’ later to take a look at the shower. Has a lot to answer for, of course; in my younger days, she was referred to as ‘Going-Potty’, ‘Losing-it’, or Blind Bonkers. Hehehe!

The wee-wees were getting more often, and Little Inches Lesion is getting sore at all the handling he’s having – Please don’t start Bleeding, mate!” I think it could be worse, though. How? At least there is only a tiny bit of, very little .

Another bonus is that the fluid retention in the right leg and foot seems to be lessening this morning. Hobbling about is a lot easier than it was yesterday. Got a bit of colour in the plates as well? Good, or not?
Hello, he’s off again. Thuds, clangs, boings, and the usual tap-tapping concerto from the noise maestro above.

I went into the wet room to see if the floods had decreased. They had, but not by much. The water does not appear clearly in the photographs I took on the left. I must remember to ask the expert in photography if my little Canon camera has any settings I can try when picturing a wet view to see the water more. I must remember.
I took this one earlier when I tried putting the power on, then when the alarms and lights lit, I hastily shut it off. Better safe than sorry.
The amount of water on the floor seemed the same as earlier. I’m not sure the drain works without the power on. Then again, there is so much in life that I’m not sure about nowadays. Mainly due to the stroke and  .

Getting on a bit now; midday coming up. If Deana doesn’t arrive soon to phone for help with the shower, I may have to go without it until tomorrow. The shower is brilliant for cleaning the three daily areas that need doing before medicating. The Little Inches Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids.

I made another brew, Glengettie, this time. I espied these two dogs having a sniff around in the bottom field. Their tails did a lot of wagging, Hehe! I was well-pleased with this photo. I zoomed in from the 12th-floor kitchenette window.

Snapped this one of the horizons, seeing as far away as the M1 motorway, just out of view furthest away. Basford, Bulwell, City Hospital, Nottingham Prison, the Romanian slave building, and Sherwood. Within this view, there have been nine murders so far this year. There are flats available here if you’re interested, and over 60? Maybe not, though! The sky was almost cloudless but still beautiful. The clouds increased minutes later.
I tried again to contact Meridian Care (Care? Hehe!) Natalie. I got through and told her that the lift for the Dementia Meeting didn’t arrive. Reply: “Yes, I’ve been swamped and couldn’t get through to them!”  I inquired why I had not been informed. She did apologise, at least. But it’s putting me through a lot of anguish, not knowing! When I explained about my not getting help with phoning and reading, deafness, Dementia, and Cataract’s are making life complicated and busy for me. Natalie asked why the Carers were not helping during the extra hour on Fridays. I knew nothing about this. Again a lack of communication. I thought the charges had gone up steeply. Now I know why. If I want any phoning or reading done, I’m to leave it until Friday each week, with no one available on Saturdays and Sundays. And, the Carers can call at any time from 06:0hrs to 08:40hrs. So how can they phone anyone for me?

Good heavens, it’s bad enough being hard of hearing, having Cataracts, knackering my vision, panic attacks, and Doreen Dementia causing confusion and memory losses.

“How dare they say; “Don’t worry, we’re sorting it”. Naturally, I was so pleased and grateful to hear this. I did stop worrying! – then, not only do they not sort anything but put me in deeper poo with the Diabetic Session transport failure – And not advise me of their let-down? Now, I have got to beg Deana to help me out with the mess and the shower, and it’s gone 13:00hrs, and she has not got to me yet. So, I assume it will be too late to bring attention to the shower today and will have to wait another day at least… Or at best, get a late call which means my already deprived sleep will suffer even more by trying to stay awake; late! It’s not doing my health any good. I am not a happy chappy.

Deana departed, and she is a busy gal. Minutes later, I went to the Porcelain Throne and realised I had not mentioned the flood and shower not working to Deana! So I phoned her and told her. She said she’d call maintenance straight away. So if they do come today, it’s going to be late, and in case they do, I have to stay awake to hear the hardly audible intercom ring when they arrive. If they come tonight, or not, perhaps? I am not a happy chappy. Most likely, it will be in the morrow when they respond. What time is anyone’s guess? I shall remain showerless and stinky, then, I suppose. I am not a happy chappy.

Awaiting the arrival of Meridian’s Natalie, still. If she comes, as she told Deana, she would be doing. Will she be too busy, I think?

Well, I’m going to get some fodder sorted out. Not feeling too bright now, although after Deana’s attention, better than I did earlier. Just maybe some ♫ Food Glorious Food ♫ might help. Nothing fancy, tomatoes and veggie burger should do me. Back in a while… well…
Three wholemeal baps, chips, tomatoes with some ketchup dip, and a lemon mousse dessert.
I put the burgers in the oven, expecting them to be cooked by the time I’d spread the cobs, sliced the tomatoes, and got the plate ready on the tray. Then realised I’d turned the oven on, put the chips (fries) in, but forgot all about the vegan burgers! Idiot, fool, twit, dumbo!

So, ate most of it, scoring 7.2/10 for flavour. Put the food tray down and drifted off into a deep sleep. Until being woken up by ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door chime two hours later. It was Sasha or Sarah… maybe Samantha, but call her Sam. Yes… Sam, I think. Soon got me sorted, slipped her a choice of treats, and did not go with her to lock the door. Why? Well, Deana had not let me know if the maintenance was coming today or tomorrow, or even at all, to mend the shower. So, I have to stay up in case they do call later on tonight.
Christ, he’s banging away upstairs again, at 22:25hrs, now! As inconsiderate scumballs go, he’s got to be one of the most effective! The  Turd!

In other words: Bad Luck Spreading

NOT A LOT OF PEOPLE KNOW THAT: They do now!

Droopy, eye-lidded, tired, and struggling to see, I pressed on with this blog and got it posted off to WordPress. Fighting heroically to stay awake just in case anyone arrives to sort the shower tonight. They didn’t.

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THOUGHTS ON THE LAST CRAP FOUR DAYS…


Could any Monday have gone any klutzier?
Mind you, Fri, Sat & Sunday were no cushier,
To get through these days of such mental torture…
I needed a stout heart, resilience and some tincture!
Let downs, failures, and cock-ups have been friskier!

I just want life to go easier and cushier,
The ears and eyes are worse… as is Doreen Dementia,
I don’t expect to get any healthier or fitter…
But why am I in a state of constant dysphoria?
I expect as I age to feel more poorlier…
Why have I contracted Arithmaphobia and phagomania?

I fear I may have also got habromania…
My brain and memory have both caught ecdemomania!
A Covid outbreak in the flat’s got folks in a fluster,
Anymore Whoopsiedangleplops, and I’ll go dafter,
I hope my insanity is only a temporary squatter.
On the bright side… there must summat for sure…
Ah, yes! I’m bald, so, no need to pay for a coiffeur?
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TTFNski!

Inchcock Today: Sat-Sun 30-31st July 2022


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.Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Up all night again. And around 02:30hrs checked the emails and found one from the diabetes tutor. Mega-cock-up. But not all my fault. Meridian was arranging a lift for me to the Bulwell Training Centre for my first session. On Tuesday, I met Natalie in the foyer and asked her if she knew any details yet; she told me, “We’re sorting it!” (Obviously, it has not been sorted for some reason!) She knows about Dementia-Doreen. I said I was worried about missing the lessons. I heard nothing back from them again, and now find the meeting was for yesterday! The email sent had all the dates for all the sessions.
I feared this might happen! And am now in a right self-bashing and angry mood!
Weekend again, so no one to talk to or ask for help with the problem… It’s most  !

Nothing ever works out right nowadays! Why do people who offer to help never get back to me to update things and put my mind at rest? No lift arrived that Meridian was supposed to be arranging. Has the meeting been cancelled? Not according to the email. I’m proper cheesed off! With myself, Dementia-Doreen and Meridian Care, so exasperated, infuriating, and doing my health no good, all this not knowing. Does nobody care? Stupid question, sorry.

Stewing-up inside now. I’m going to have a shit, shave and shower. Pissed-off, befuddled, and self-pitying, totally!

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Well, I stewed a bit more while getting the ablutions done but slowly accepted that I’d been let down again by Meridian or whoever is to blame for not getting back to me about the lift. Realised that there was nothing I could do until Monday. Pressed on with scrubbing up, got five cuts shaving, and… on the sock-glide. I was turning to leave with clothes to go to the laundry bag and dropped some, bent down to grab the trews, and I head-butted the wet room door! What really did it for me; it made me larf it did… then… Had to use the Throne, which caused two sets of bleeding: I found myself laughing out loud for a moment. Cleaned things up and medicated the required areas; made a brew and got on the computer to start the Local News Blog, getting so tired; but more settled emotionally.

I got the and BP done. All results were fine!

Sarah, I think. I told her of the failure to get lifted to the Diabetes session. I was a smidge emotional, I guess.
Blogging for a while, but so tired and confused. Decided to get a quick meal/snack and get some sleep. Some podded peas, pot noodles, bread and a banana. I nearly fell asleep several times eating it. Put the tray on the Carers table, and I settled with my sunglasses on in search of Sweet Morpheus. Despite feeling so knackered, each time I drifted off for a short period, I was waking up so often t]with the Thought Storms raging – usually about the Diabetes transport let down, and not being kept informed… well, it was about that, every time I woke, and there were far too many wakings, followed by emotional turmoil and self-pitying. Eventually, I did get sleep for a couple of hours. Miserable is the best word to describe it.

The final bursting into wakefulness, and I needed the . So, that put an end to hopes of any more sleep.

At least the Throne session went well. No bleeding, mess or pain!
I had a Peripheral Pete right leg dance as I left the wet room. But no tumbling, walking into anything, or injuries, at all. This was due to my depression over my being let down and uninformed about the Diabetes lift and all the ensuing hassle it gave me.
The sky and clouds from the kitchen window looked gorgeous. I got the Canon camera and tried to take some decent shots of the eerie, threatening cloud formations, with the dying sun still trying to get through to the tellurians below. I wonder what it wanted to say? As if trying to talk to us all?
How I love nature.
I noticed I’d dropped crumbs and peas over the carpeting and had walked them over into the hallway when going to and from the Porcelain Throne.
I don’t think Doreen Dementia was too keen on my plans. So, I got the big Hoover out from the junk room and commenced having a careful Metal-Mickey walking-stick aided clean-up. I don’t use this machine often, but I’d forgotten how to free the cord to extend the reach. Also, how to unlock the container to empty it.

I was in the middle of trying to sort this conundrum out, and “Oh, Susan” chimed out, followed by coming into the room. She sorted out the cable and bin mechanisms for me, bless her. Issued the medications and listened as I told her of the let-down and confusion, also the letters I’d had come today from the Diabetes place; Val said, “Well. just ring them up…” It shows that my problems need help from someone who might understand them. My heating on the mobile and phone is not good, and mistakes I have made mishearing, multitudinous! Cataract Cathleen’s input ensured that I could not read the small print on the letter and leaflet. Doreen Dementia forces me into confusion and memory blanks… I’ll shut up now; I’m sick of hearing myself moan! Tsk! I almost forced Valerie to take a thank you in the form of the cold orange juice from the fridge. A well-meaning gal, no doubt about that. ♥ She took the waste bag to the chute for me on her way out.

Taking this snapshot on the left, I had a check-up on the pins and plates. Besides the right foot’s fluid retention worsening, it was to see how improved they were this evening. If they get any better, I may apply for a job as a foot modeller. Hehehe!

I pressed on with this blog as far as here. Then worked on updating the Local News Snippets blog. Got it done and posted by midnight.
Sleep was the next mission. But it wasn’t coming quickly. Wee-weeing needs were not helping. But eventually, I got off into a deep sleep!

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I got a decent night’s sleep for one, so good, I got 6 undisturbed hours once I got off. I woke and broke musical wind at 07:00hrs. Had a wee-wee, the first of oh, so many today. Each session with aplenty.

I took stock of and prepped some of the ingredients for Josie’s Sunday lunch. Got the waste bags made up, and the ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ tune chimed out. It was slightly belated… mot that’s wrong, it’s the weekend, isn’t it? Anyway, came in. Got the tablets sorted, and he didn’t have much time for a chinwag, but we managed a few words before he went. I asked him to take the waste bags with him. Thanked him and wished him all the best.
Got the veg in the saucepan of chilli and got sphygmomanometerisationing.
Darned good results again, as you can see on the left here.
My body temperature was good as well; I let myself go .
I filled the numbers into the DVT site and was in the amber! Yesss!
The air escaped from the rear-end again, and it was off to the Porcelain Throne in a sort of a hurried, wiggled walking style.
Well, that was one of the bloodiest sessions I’ve ever had, apart from the vein-burst when I had the bladder cancer lasered.

Harold’s Hemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion both flowed red. Got things cleaned up and sorted, and putting the Germoloid tube back on the shelf, I had a shirt-sharp blast from Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. Enough for me to drop the receptacle mentioned above. I bent down to retrieve it and hit my nose on the side of the sink. And that bled… not badly mind, soon had it stopped.

The noisy neighbour kicked off and had a long session today. He seemed to keep dropping stuff regularly; I hope he’s not caught covid or other ailments. Such a nice man as well. As lovely as any other regular, sour, superior-natured, uncommunicative, unfriendly, antisocial, aloof git would be.

A rare spotting of rain was falling, so I got the Canon camera and took these snaps on the left here. The bottom one was through the kitchen window, close up, to try and catch the spots. Not the best I’ve ever taken.

I just started to serve up Josies’s nosh, and the landline burst forth.
My adoptee nephew Jillie ♥ The line was not good, but we had a natter. I mentioned the Meridian let-down with the Diabetes lift and missing the first session. Moaning again. I’m such a helpless wimp!
I had to hurray a bit afterwards; to ensure I kept to the ten-minute window to serve the fodder in time. I made it, and Josie seemed pleased with the look of the meals delivered on the tray. I forgot to take a photo of it as well!  Harrumph & Toadstools!
I was getting a bit uptight with Dementia Doreen! Bashed on with updating this blog for a few hours. Most of my precious time was spent correcting mistakes, making more, and adjusting things again.
“Oh, Susan”, rang out once more. It was Frank, bringing some homegrown tomatoes for me from Jenny ♥ I shall enjoy these with my nosh!
I got some rostis and burgers in the oven. Sliced some tomatoes, gherkins and beetroot onto the plate.
Then, I went on the WP Reader to a renewed mechanic concert from above.
Now, to prepare the nosh.
Some of the Jenny-donated tomatoes halved a gherkin slice, mushrooms, mini potatoes, rostis, veg burgers, and beetroot. A blob of BBQ sauce, some Milk Roll bread slices. A pot of lemon mousse too. This went down pleasingly, and a Flavour-Rating of 9/10 was granted. As I was eating the feast, I noticed the right leg was much fatter than the left one was. So, I took a snap of it.

Put the TV on; the big match was on in an hour or so.
And promptly fell asleep. Woken by the door chime as the Sonia arrived. The TV was going on, and the match was in progress, with no score. I’m afraid my limited attention was taken by the football… don’t recall much of what went on or was said with Carer Sonia, who took the waste bag with her as she departed. Got down to settle and watch the football. I also noticed that the bottom of the food tray had left its impression on the legs. Hehehe! The match, and, as you must know, the score by now… but I loved it so much I put it on here:

I rang Sister Jane to gossip about the magnificent victory for England. (Let’s face it, they are few and far between!)
Got the belated ablutioning done. Everything went well with the teggies, shaving, showering, medicationalisationing, the drying off. No fall, cuts, toe-stubbing, bruisings, or dizziness. A ‘Super Strength’ Class A  

Putting the towel back on, the slow dryer a kicked off. Usually, if this happens in the hallway, as this one did, it’s the safest place possible, having both walls within reach to use to steady any falls. But on this occasion, being entangled in the loops of the air dryer; as we both went down onto the floor didn’t help. Still, no injuries were incurred.

Took a snap of the beautiful sun-setting. Despite my worries and Doreen Dementia’s and Meridian Care concerns, this one held my attention for longer than usual.

I got onto the computer and updated this blog.
Got some tabs made up in CorelDraw and loaded them into WordPress. Of colours to use in tomorrow’s blog.
Finalised this and posted it off. Then tried to get some sleep – it seems an easy quest, doesn’t it?
I’ll see…

Inchcock Today 28th July 2022

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06:00hrs: I roused from my slumber and felt full of life and ready to get upped and at ’em… Thankful to find I was still alive. Blessed the Lord, praised my good fortune, I thanked the Heavens for another day of joy and merriment. And admired the state of my muscular six-pack stomach… Of course, t’was all a figment of my half-asleep, depressed, tortured, nervously agitated, dominated, feeble, and confused mind.

Truth? I felt horrible! Physically, things were not too bad at all! But only mentally.
Fair enough, I’d done something to the right hand’s middle finger, at the bottom of the nail. The tiniest bit of something sticking up, and each time I caught it on something, it stung like hell. Finger beginning to swell and redden? No idea what had caused it.
The ulcer is forever glowing and growing one day, then sinking and hiding the next? But the Doctor said she’s not bothered about this, so it will be alright. She was concerned with the fluid retention and swelling and took the time to talk to me in great depth to explain the malady and how and what to do… She said (To Meridian’s Natalie on the phone): ‘Tell him to put his feet up.’ Nothing like a caring Doctor, I imagine. But how would I know?
Commenced. The body temperature was once again almost perfect, close to the said optimum of 35°f, with 34.6°f. Perfick!
Sphygmomanometerisationing session next. These returns were far better than yesterday’s were. SYS down to 134, DIA 63, and the Pulse down to 79 bpm. This looked good to me. I got the computer and put the figures into the NHS DVT site to see what they make of it. I got a details list; come back this time. The Blood Pressure was pleasing, especially with it going up yesterday. I’m out of the red zone again! Very satisfied with being n the pre-high area. I’ve not done that very often… well, in the last month, I have a few times.

Carer Richard arrived, looking a little more sprightly and not yawning. I was going to ask him if he’d got a decent sleep in at last, but he volunteered that he has four days off now and will see me next Monday. He needed a break. I bet someone doesn’t come in, and they call on Richard again. Poor lad! He checked the medical drawer to ensure sufficient medications were available until Monday. He noticed I winced when I was getting his treats out; when I caught whatever it was, thingamabob, whatnot, near the nail. Told me to level the bit sticking up and put a plaster on it. So, I did! Feeling an idiot for thinking of doing that myself! Haha! We had a natter after Richard had done the medicationings. Taking my waste bags with him on the way out to the rubbish chute for me.

I got the kettle on, and as I did, it was as if someone had turned the light off… The sky went ominously dark very quickly. I got the Canon camera and took this photo. I was expecting a downpour any moment, but no! Within a few minutes, the light had returned. Dr Who would have known what was going on? But not me. Hahaha!
I noticed the usually plus green meadow at the bottom of the tree copse was looking a little weather-worn. But not around the edges, but only in the centre? A dog-walker was picking her little white dog’s poo and putting it into a bag for the poo box. This got me thinking of my younger days living in the Meadows. If memory serves me right, and my long-term memory usually does, the short-term usually affects me. I can recollect that there was an abundance of dog droppings on my paper rounds, and I reckon 74% of it was white or grey. Even some of the cats’ evacuations were! No one ever thought of collecting the turds back then, of course. They’d get dried and then used as kickabouts by the local kids.
I’m assuming the whiteness was due to malnutrition of some sort? Looking back a the food given to some dogs makes me shudder. A lot of dogs ate with the family. Whatever they ate, the dogs did. Then along came the new Lassie and Chappie canned dog food. 3d a can! This equates to about… let’s see, there were 240ds to a pound, so if divide 240 by three, excuse me while I use the calculator… that would buy 80 cans for a quid! Those were the days! Today one tin of Chappie cost £1.30; what percentage rise in price is that?

But the dogs on our terrace did not take to Lassie or Chappie. Apart from Mr & Mrs Wright’s Rover. I knew that Mrs Dukes Sammy, Mr Marsinacks dog (I can’t remember his name), and the barber, Mr Barker’s three dogs, Lilli, Brutus and Chelsea, hated them. Not so bad for those three. The owner could afford fresh or canned meat for them. Other dogs continued to pass the white lumps, most of them going from bin to bin in search of fodder. Still, no one complained about the dog mess… I think we thought it would just evaporate. Ha, Ha!

I spent hours and hours doing this blog. No one called, no hassle… apart from the odd overture of noises from the antisocial, smarmy Herbert in the flat above But, not a lot today… up till now, anyway.

I’ve run out of bread; I do have some part-baked cobs to use, though. I made an order from Iceland for next week and ordered a few loaves; there should be room in the freezer for the bread by then.

Getting late already. I got the meal sorted. I worked things out oven-cooking-wise (Huh!); The veggie burgers needed 30 minutes cooking, the potato Rosti’s 20, so I planned to put the burgers in for 10-minutes, then add the rosti. And what a danged mess I made in doing so.

Muggins here did it the opposite way around! Realised five minutes later that and removed the rostis, burning my wrist as I took them out, and dropped one on the floor.

Reconstituted and shaped it, burning my finger,  and got the burgers in and cooking.

Dropped the plate as I was putting the peas onto it.

Forgot to add the rostis after 10 minutes!

By then, I was pretty self-critical, and at that time. Herbert kicked off with a tap-tap-crunch routine.

I’m sure what I did then, I was pretty stressed and miffed. Somehow, I got the mess sorted in a fashion. And got sat in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, and ate the meal from a tray, balancing precariously on the folds of fat on the stomach. While eating it, I kept getting twinges of guilt for leaving the kitchen sink with food-burnt-on oven trays soaking. Still, despite it all, I ate all of the fodder and scored it an 8/10 for taste.

Put the plate to one side and drifted into a deep, almost heavenly dream-filled sleep. I’ve no idea what I was dreaming of, just knew it must have been something pleasant… For the Evening-Carer had arrived and stood over me, looming and speaking… I thought at first that this must be a part of the dream. My mind was all over the place. The gal had not rung the ♫Oh Susana♫ door chime and came in without me knowing. Good job that I wasn’t changing PPs or wee-weeing in the bucket! I was a little out-of-it, slow, mentally, having just been woken up, so things were foggy about the visit. Got the meds sorted, and I think we had a little natter about something. I walked to the door with her to lock it. Thanked her and offered a treat, unaccepted or wanted on this occasion. Wished the gal all the bestest, and I hastened back for a wee-wee. Not had one for a while.

No shaving cuts… because for some reason, I forgot to shave? The feet looked a little colourful, but I’d not long been out of the shower, so that would have some bearing on their condition, I reckon. Back on the computer, after failing to nod back to sleep. Another ruined night’s sleep. And I’m paying to be woken up to be given my medications! Hahaha!

I found a lost photo of the front car park from this morning.
The vehicles are parked rather decoratively, don’t you think? A colourful selection on view.
Guilt reminded me that the kitchen had not been cleaned yet. So I cleaned it, then got back to the comp[uter to update this blog to here.

Then I went into ponderisationalistical-mode on what today’s Ode should appertain to… Well, I sat here waiting for inspiration. Listening to the dreaded World-Wide-Hum getting louder and louder, or seemingly so!
An hour later, I am still awaiting some afflatus or eureka-moment to inspire the Ode into logicality… no, no, that won’t work. Best do the normal then, type away and hope for the best, no doubt struggling for words, what they mean, how to spell them, miss-typing and spelling, confusion, inanity… the usual stuff then. Sorry about that.

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All the bestest!

Wednesday 27th July 2020

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WEDNESDAY 27th JULY 2022

At around 02:00hrs, I woke for the first time. In need of a wee-wee and got to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in plenty of time for a change. But it must have been several minutes that I stood there waiting for the PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to complete its dribbling mission.
Back to the recliner, and I tried to reattain some sleep. Which, in a way, I repeatedly did. But it seemed like every five minutes, I was back to springing awake with a jump or jerk. Haha! The jerk is likely me.
During one of the sojourns to the grey plastic bucket, I realised how easier the ankle and foot felt. Several more wee-wees were needed, thankfully without the PMAD. So got the cannon, turned on the flash, and took a photo. That ointmentating last night has done me a lot of good!
I gave up on getting more sleep, and I got up around 06:00hrs and got the medical box out. Started. I got the readings and tool the usual photographicalisations of them, but they were not to be found on the camera card later? Nor last night’s nosh, either? A good job I wrote down the numbers; sometimes I don’t, just use the photo I’d taken. Input the results as above right. The BP was up a fair bit, the pulse a smidgeon, and the body temperature once again OK! Made the graph and waddled off into the kitchenette to get the first brew of the day going. I opted for Thompsons’ Punjana with semi-skimmed milk (that’s all I had in!). I saw a mass of smoke coming up from the far distance. In the Basford area, I think. But remembered abbot the card not taking photos. So took out the card to check the lock button, blew into the card holder slot, and reinserted it. Back to the window, and the smoke had got a lot less. I could see the blue lights flashing around the area. I went back to the computer and quickly checked the emails. Oh, dear! 
I found I’d got a J Sainsbury order that I thought was due on Friday. This is going to be fun getting the food in the already packed fridge… but I like a challenge.
Started on the WP comments; well, I got one anyway. And the JS order arrived nice and early.
The driver put the items into the two saved boxes and asked for a bag as well. Seems I got carried away again with the ordering; mind you, it’s good that I now have a lot of spring water in stock. If there is another heat wave, no doubt the panic buying will start again. The man out the stuff in the hallway for me.
Among the items purchased were mixed veg in water and whole free Jersey cow milk. Orange cordials, vegan seasonings, bleach. Tomatoes with basil and something else I can’t make out? More stuff; bananas, fresh pod peas, yellow tomatoes, and fish-free fish sticks. Strawberries and roses for the warden’s weekly treat. I’ll take them down later on to the Wardens holding cells for them.
Two first-time purchasers here; A different brand of burgers and some smokey cheese substitute. I’ll have to ask Richard to read the does & don’ts on the label in the morning. It feels very solid?
Back to the blogging, and just as I started getting somewhere: Smoke & Mirrors Man Mr Fries Liberty-Global, Virgin Media died a death again! More time lost! Still, it may be an integral part of one of his ambidextrousness, chicanery, and self-financial-defence mechanism?

He’s probably convinced his bosses that he is making such a cock-up of running Virgin Media on purpose. If enough of the fog boys are all driving the same f-up of service and ignoring customers and may go bust, take BT, for instance, just as bad. Then the value of those companies will fall, and Liberty-Global can either get more than the $23.3 billion they bought it for and sell it or pick up a few more internet companies for peanuts, and we can ruin them as well… It Doesn’t make sense, does it? But I can see in my minds-eye Fries conning his bosses like this. Smoke & Mirrors are his forte!
I don’t say these things lightly. And it is nothing to do with my being covetous of his manly looks, stubby-chin, masculine body. Nor jealously of his $23m a year salary, bonuses and expense account on top of it all, not to mention the grand back-handers and shares in the company he gets given. Or his gorgeous wife… Where was I?
Started getting a little persistent again. He must have a big order on for some school or church? He reminds me of Harold Shipman without his beard.
Finally got the ode added and finished yesterday’s blog. Doing this one will take ages with such a late start on it?
Put the computer to sleep, and I took the treats down to the Wardens holding cell in Winwood Court. Forgot to take the camera with me. Huh!
Got to the office, and I gave them a choice of plonk, the roses and strawberries, back up to the flat and carried on with this blog.

All I did was turn in the swivel chair to stand up, and an instant loss of balance hit me! Bounced off of the recliner, which was good, cause its well-padded. Rolled and gently plopped onto the floor, hitting my head on the table leg.
Going to turn it all off and sit quietly for a while, then hopefully get summat to eat. Not eating might have encouraged the Dizzy Dennis spell?

Back later. Well, I hope so. Hehehe!
I’m back…

Oddlimost Nosh for Ages…
Tons of pod peas, nothing but the best…
Black & yellow tomatoes with a tasty zest.
No-Fish Fish Sticks, on this plate, the sweetest,
Part-baked batch, the tastiest!
A banana, two pots of desserts,
Well, I was at my hungriest…
I hope it is easy to digest!

Checked on the Plates-of-meat…
The ulcer was looking a bit pink…
Water retention put the feet out of sync,
The bottom of the feet began to plink,
Will that ulcer ever shrink?
Involuntarily passed wind, what a stink!.
Caused the nosh, I think?.
When the carer’s been, I’ll wash and shave at the sink!

Evening Carer called, twas Valerie
Val handed two letters from the box to me,
She sorted the medications professionally,
Thanked her with a punnet of fruit, strawberry,
I felt a fart building, but I didn’t let it free,
Leaving, she took the waste bags to the chute for me!

Letters Investigated…
One letter was from the bank, the TSB…
A leaflet, ‘We are here to help, that’s contradictory,
Nottingham had 23 branches in 2003, now just one, sadly,
And that’s miles away, that’s due for closure shortly…
The other mail, from the Council, telling me…
To go on the internet for a details inventory,
Fill it in to be able to vote next January!

Late Ablutionalisation Session Thoughts In Ode
I look a little like I was growling?
The shower curtain shows its dolphin.
I’m stuck in the flat, not globetrotting,
Passing wind all the time, it needs fumigating,
Little Inchies fungal lesion exsanguinating,
The rear end began erupting…
My mind and concentration ever drifting,
Frequently self-condemning,
Inwardly waffling, bloviating,
Moments of lucidity were thin…
Two stubbed toes… so aggravating!
Moments of pure daydreaming,
Yet I was content, although inwardly waffling…
With the Thoughtstorms bludgeoning…
Battering my brain, but not concerning?
I finished off, the toes still twingeing,
But, no point in my minging or ologoaning…
Hello, can I hear someone phoning?

Watched the Football Match
I was overjoyed that it was won by Germany!
France winning would be Whoopsiedangleploppery,
If England had to face France, possible misery…
England can win a competition final, finally…
Although, it certainly won’t be easy…
The final is played next Sunday,
Huh, guess who’s kicked off; Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley!

That’s yer lot, can’t type in this condition. I’ll post this later.

I’m back: I nearly forgot Sister Jane rang me. The Police Pegasus has been in touch with her as a first-responder on the list. As soon as I heard this, I remembered the form they had sent for me to update my details. Carer Richard never got around to helping me fill it in, and I forgot all about it! What a twit! Jane rang them back and kindly called me back to say she had done it but had forgotten to tell them about the youths who came into the flat at 02:00hrs the other month. We are a pair for forgetting things! Hahaha!

Have a great day!

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode

Why did they bother sentencing him to death?
Hang on, I thought San Quenton had closed down? I got this information from Bittanica as well. Maybe it’s another prison?

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Inchies Diary of True Woe

I stirred back into ersatz life. Not springing awake, the event was all rather laid back. Until I realised, I had no idea what the time of day it was. Indeed, what day had just dawned. It was still dark; I had no idea where I’d left the wristwatch and could not find the wind-up torch to look at the clock on the fireplace top. But, no worries, really. I was just slightly annoyed at myself and Dementia Doreen.

As I laid back, with the intention of nodding back off into dreamland, I was assured that there was no cause or reason to get up early, a wee-wee suddenly all but started of its own accord!

This also annoyed me somewhat, having to get up from the place of sleep. But I soon realised it had to be done quickly, and rather smartly for me I thought, was pulling down the PPs and utilising the nocturnal bucket within a minute! Which I knew at the time should not have been. I heard my EQ laughing! Now decision time; Do I go and get my hands washed, thus destroying any chance of getting some extra sleep in? Or, to snuggle down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holding recliner?

I opted to get my head down again. But… as I put the stick back in the slot at the side of the chair, I advanced a little too far with my right foot! And, by way of a change, I gave myself a foot stubbing instead of the usual toe!

I ended up sideways on, half-in, half out of the recliner. With something sticking under my bum? Banging my elbow on the way down. Guess what? I’d found the camera, torch and wristwatch all stuck down the side. twixt the cushion and the arm. Hahaha! Well, I thought it was funny, even at the time. I used the camera to take this shot of the foot, but it didn’t come out well – I think mother said that about me. Hehe!
Smiling to myself, I started to disentangle my ungraceful, ungainly, ponderous body to a more sleepable position, got sim-settled, and thought I’d see if I could make out the time, using the torch
As I deemed it to be a quarter past five, I remembered the Ocado order was due from 06:00>07:00hrs! Globblegrumps!

I was soon back up on my painful foot, well, on them both. And started to make room in the fridge for the incoming food to be safely stored. I dropped the two packets of dried beans, and one of them burst open! Another mess to sort out! It’s been an odd morning so far! It got odder! I searched for a screw-lid container the right size for the rescued peas that hadn’t hit the floor to be stored in. And in light, saw that the time was only 04:15hrs? I reckon that Cataract Cathy had fooled into thinking it was five-fifteen when it would mayhaps have been something else?

Med Dioctyl A Ah, of to the Throne. I felt sure that all the peas I had nibbled, along with the Dioctyl, would be enough to get things moving, as I thought they would. But No! Colin Constipation kept a firm grip on the product, and he was not letting anything get through. Painful, but no bleeding.

I surrendered and got on with Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by, ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, proferred these results.

The SYS was up again to 152, the DIA 69, and the Pulse down to 79 from yesterday’s high. The body temperature was fine, at 33.8°f.

I popped the resulting figures into the NHS Patient Monitor page. They out me a little higher into the red zone on their graph.
I made up the graphic of me and added it to the jpeg for a bit of humour to share.

Liberty-Global, who owns Virgin Media. Went down for the third time today. This one was for a long time. When it came back on, an hour or two later, it was so slow! I got the graph of Virgin Media downtime in the UK. People writing in were not happy at all. Two areas had no service for a day! Most of them, like me, suffer outages every day. Mind you, BT were nearly as bad. Big Boys Bullying with ridiculous adverts about the ‘stretched’ claims of reliability and being the fastest service available.

What about people on these networks working from home on their computers? Do they get any compensation? BT offer a fantastic bargain… well, they did last year in their TV adverts. £30 a month back if we fail to give you (whatever the speed promised was). Mr Fries, the Liberty-Global Mogul, knows nothing about supplying an internet service, yet he’s bought into other internet companies throughout mainland Europe? Still, he gets his £23 a year salary plus bonuses and expenses.
By his looks, you’d think he was a Godfather in the Mafia, wouldn’t you? I imagine he would be the perfect candidate for the Presidency race? He must have the ambidextrousness, chicanery and flimflam skills needed to flourish as the US president?
Ah, no, I realise now, that would mean him taking a massive pay cut!

The Ocado delivery came just within the hour window. A decent chap; I think he came last time I used Ocado. He carried all the bags into the kitchenette for me as well. That was decent of him!.
I made sure he took a can in thanks.
I got the bottled water delivered this time, all of it.
I’d anticipated many not being available; well, there was none available from Iceland or Sainsbury’s last week. I got the lot, as you can see here on the right, that’ll keep me going for a while. Hahaha!
As I’d just finished stacking the bottles and packs,  down the stack tumbled, landing on my recently damaged foot! Tsk!

But, I didn’t mind, what’s a bit more pain; I merely laughed it off!. No cursing at all… Ahem!
The fridge was soon filled up again. A most comforting site, I must say.
Still, come think of it, it s not as fill as it usually is, and the Carer treats will reduce the contents. Bless ’em, I do insist, you know. Har-har! Ah, I do feel a fool, more to go in in another bag. Bananas, garden peas, some part-baked baguettes, black tomatoes, lemon fools and the delicious but oh, so pricey Marks & Spencers Potato Rosti Cakes, I don’t want to think of what I paid for them, if you don’t mind. The M&S cakes were on offer, and still the most I have ever paid for eight little cakes. What am I doing? I’ll be broke if I go on like this. Body and financially at this rate, and I think I’ve got a Sainsbury order in for a few a day’s time. Oh, dearie me!
I  had to take out Richard’s Monday treats to make room for getting the other stuff in the fridge! I enjoy giving a bit in thanks to a good carer. I popped them in a carrier bag. Richard’s due any time now, so they should keep okay.

I got on the computer, to find that it was down again. Grobblewanks! I’m getting to dislike hocus-pocus Fries all the more. He’s taunting and haunting me!
Arrived and had a chinwag after he’d sorted the medications and checked the medication drawer for stocks, bless him. He had to go a bit sooner than usual; he’s been given an extra call to so. He’s still not sleeping well. I suggested he try out the Hemp for him months ago and bought him a pot; I don’t like to see him all done in. But he thought they were drugs. Wished him a better kip, and he took the bags with him to the waste chute for me.
Herbert gave me a drilling noises concert this time. How he does it so musically amazes me, he even ended with a thud or two to sign off. Hehe!

I think this was the fourth time that £23m a year’s Fries of Liberty-Global has gone down. Not for so long this time, though… but just give him time. You know, there’s a slight chance that he doesn’t even care. or know about his total failure in running an internet Suppliers company? Still, getting that sort of money, he must have some connection with the Mafia, Government or Putin?

I had two of the Royalty Priced lemon iced cakes and a mug of Thompson’s Punjana black tea. Note the tray that holds the cakes? It’s made if wood, I forget which one now, but they are feather light.
Minutes after scoffing, in walked ‘I know best’, Esther. I was just trying to get the Liberty-Global Virgin Media back online at the time. She spoke a lot, mostly from the other room, so I’ve no idea what she was on about, but she didn’t tell me off when she came back in the room… which tells me that two scenarios may be in progress here.
â‘  She was pleased with not getting any answers, so she may have put up the costs she charges, and I will never know.
â‘¡ Or, she is planning a super-rollicking for me next week and is cunningly formulating now?
She then decided I had not enough clothes dirtied to bother with her washing today. Which may result in an increased cost next week if the laundry bag is too big? Anyway, I played it safe cause I was a little nervous about not getting shouted at, which threw me a bit. I gave her the other two M&S lemon cakes. Scared? Me? You bet I am! Not half!

I spent so long on this blog, having to keep stopping regularly when Mr Fries Liberty-Global Virgin Media kept going down. The evening Carer may come at any time. So I had a nibble of some of the peas I put in the container after the Accifauxpa in the kitchen earlier.
I had to move them away from the computer in the end, I was forever nibbling some, and with Peripheral Pete and Shaking Shoulder Shirley giving me some hassle, there are probably at least a dozen of the dried monster lurking somewhere in the room, ready for me to tread on them. Hehehe!
Hello, a final (I hope) blast from Herbert. Sounded like the hammer and drill were being used in unison? Clever stuff, you know.
Cheeky Charlie, the carer arrived; she’s not been for a while. I’ve missed her. She kindly got the gloves on and ointmentated the swollen toes, a stubbed part of the foot, and the ankle ulcer for me. That was lovely. ♥ The leg and foot felt much betterer afterwards.

Got some food cooking then. Potato Rosti in the oven. Took a photo of it, but it never made it to the SD card? Humph! Anyway, it was good. Rating: 8.2/10. Washed the pots and tittivated the kitchen; and got my head down to watch the England Women v (Nasty, fouling) Sweden Woman match on the box. I’ve not been as proud of an England team’s performance since 1966. Now, will it be France or Germany we face in the final?

After the match, I went to make a brew, and the night sky was begging to be photographed. So I did.
Fantastic! (An almost water-colour-painted) hue.
Argh! The left foot this time, though.
The ointmentated right ankle was looking so calm. Grrreat!
Got my head down, comforted by England’s phenomenal win over the Sweden bully-girls. But anxious, in the event that we face France in the final. I have an EQ-inspired thought that if it is France, it could mean defeat. I pray that Germany wins against France tomorrow night.

Zzz!

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

.

TTFN

Inchcock: Up all night, food delivery at 06:00hrs, then the Dentist!

MONDAY 25th JULY 2022

Due to so much time lost faffing about at the Sherwood Dentist, shopping and finding empty shelves, missing the bus back up the hill, and so many wee-wees, I must be in line to be Champion Wee-Weewer; this diary will only be a sketchy one. It’s a good job I spent all night getting the graphics done!

In between the repetitive wee-weeing.Tsk!

0515hrs: I’ve been up all night! Got the ablutionisationing done. Came out to get the kettle on, bleary-eyed! The odd wee-wee was taken.

I got out the Chinese sphygmomanometer and got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing. Hahaha!

The Blood pressure was; SYS 146, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 71bpm. Obviously, the Pulse had dropped a little from the last two days. The body temperature was not bad at all, at 33.5°f.

I checked the time available, and I decided to visit the (NHS) National Health Services DVT patients check site. It came out as a smidgeon higher in the red than yesterday’s test did. Made this graphicalisation on CorelDraw, then began to ready things for the hobble top Sherwood, remembering to use the homemade checklist.

Done.

Richard arrived. We managed a decent natter, and he checked the medication drawer. Selected a cold plonk from the fridge, and he departed a tired lad, taking the waste bags with him to the shute for me. I got the list of things needed for the hobble into Sherwood for the Dentist visit. Then prepped things, making sure things were in the jacket pockets or the Walker-Trolley. Walked to Sherwood. As you can see, I forgot to put the woolly hat in the basket, Humph!

.
So, I set off out and took the lift down to the ground floor. Taking this selfie as I did so. Of course, I wanted to go down via the 12-floors of the concrete fire escape route, just to keep myself in shape, with a body like what mine is; one likes to look after it. Plus, with me being a young, athletic fitness fanatic… alright then! Don’t laugh! Haha! You understand.
I made my way along the inner link corridor and made a fool of myself… it’s easily done for me, looking a plonker. Even easier nowadays since Vascular Doreen Dementia took up residence in my brain. I started to ask Deana and Julie (Wardens) in their office if they could ask Meridian’s Natalie if she’s heard anything from the Diabetes people about where the courses are and the transport from Nottingham Community place. It all came out wrong, and the girls were more confused than before I’d started talking!

I hobbled down Winchester Street, turned left down Mansfield Road and visited the Oran Food Stores Cash-Point. My brain froze as I got my card out – oddly enough, I remembered the number but was flummoxed as to which way round to put the card in the machine! I felt a right-chump going in to ask the lady in the shop! The look on her face said something like, “He shouldn’t be out on his own!” But she gave me a twinkling of a smile (derision, or sympathy-based, I’m not sure!) as I thanked her and returned to get some money from the ATM. Back in the shop, but they didn’t 3 of the 4 things that I’d hoped to get. As I mentioned the other day, It’s crumbling, the UK!

I limped back up the Mansfield Road incline over Winchester Street at the traffic lights junction, and I called into the Wilko store. They didn’t have a single one of the items on their sad, all-but-bare shelves! Humph! e. I needed some Wilko Fresher granules and washing-up liquid, Zoflora lemon, and their own brand 15-litre blue waste bags. I carried on, feeling a smidgeon pee’d off at my lack of success. The wind was cool and getting up a little, a summer portend of rain to come?

I called into two charity shops to see if any bobble or flat caps were on sale. No!

This surgery always gives bother of some sort or another, a few of them this time. Getting up the three chunky, concrete steps with the walker was not going well! I was rescued and helped a chap just arriving. A lady phoned me yesterday and asked that I get to the surgery early. Well, I had done 20 minutes despite the fortress defences having to be fought through.
The receptionist was hard to hear, and ten minutes or so late, I was commanded to take a seat; someone will fetch you! “Thank you!”

I sat down and had the battle to see the crossword clues as the lighting was terrible and the cataract. They had left a door open in the waiting room, which usually would not bother one… but I had a further 50 minutes before I was seen by a dentist… I’ll explain.

A lady came to me and asked if I could manage to get up the two flights of stairs to my dentist? As calmly as possible, I replied: “Each time I come, this happens, no I can’t get up the stairs, as I told staff last time, and the previous five times, and still you book me in with the top-floor wallah!” Lady (Doing her best), “It will be a while before we can re-sort a ground floor surgery for you” – Me: “Six months ago, I was told that I’d automatically be on the ground floor from now on, but no!” “We’ll sort it out…” “Oh, good, thanks!” Back to struggling with the cool breeze and the crossword book.

Forty minutes later, I was led, well, more marched, to the far front surgery. The whole examination couldn’t have lasted longer than five or six minutes! I again asked if it was possible to have all the teeth out? Reply? “I don’t think so! I mentioned the loose tooth at the front next to where its former neighbour fell out seven months ago. Reply? “Do you want me to pull it?” Me: “Well, now you, mention it…” Interrupted: “No, it should last until the next visit”.

Aghast at how I’d been treated, I asked her for a prescription for some more of the Duraphat toothpaste. She gave me a prescription that had to be stamped to legalise it at the reception when you pay. So I went to pay up. Now you can add another five minutes or more while the three receptionists were all on the phone, no clients anywhere? But I needed the Duraphat, so I stood there in silence. Eventually, one of the receptionists signalled with a backward flipped head-nod for me to pay my dues and stamped the prescription for me. I needed help again, this time in getting me and the trolley down the steps on the way out. It’s hard to believe all that just happened, but it did.

Up to the top of the hill, to the Lloyds Chemists, to get the Duraphat. I bought some Germolene, being as the chemist had some in stock! I bought the last two tubes. But nothing is too good for Little Inches Fungal Lesion! Hehehe!
Paid up, out and back down to the bus stop. A long time since I used this, and I tried to read the timetable for the 40 bus – mission impossible!
A lady arrived, who I thought I’d seen at the flats, and we got into a good nattering session. Great sense of humour; I must try to see her again!
The bus arrived, and we were soon back up at the flats. The next ten minutes proved how much I’d been missing getting out. As I met Margaret, who I’ve not seen for months now. We had a gossip. Then another bus came in, and Chrissie got off, Margaret got on the bus, and we walked through the inner route through Winchester and Winwood Courts back to our Woodthorpe Court.

Two people chatted as they passed Chrissie and me by. Then Natalie from Meridian stopped to tell me she was sorting out a lift for the Diabetes course. No details yet. Then I met Cheeky Charley, the carer, and Chrissie and I got the lift up to our flats.

A bit embarrassing:, with the excitement of seeing people, I got confused as to which floor we were on and when the doors opened, I stood there waiting for Chrissie to get out of the cage… it was my floor – Oh, I did feel a fool! Bade farewell to Chrissie. ♥ And red-facedly, I made haste to my apartment.
No sooner had I got the trolley into the flat than the need for a wee-wee had me scrambling into the wet room. The timing and mot getting caught out while I was in Sherwood, Truly Amazing! Of course, I was wise not to go into Smug-Status because the AMS must have lasted for a good five or six minutes!
.
I got the things put away. I’m looking forward to the vegan franks again; I’ve had some earlier in the year, and they were good. If I’ve got any chips in the freezer, I may have them with the sausages – eventually.

I got on with the blogging at long last. But not before I took these shots as the sky suddenly brightened up. There’s something about the beautiful to me, clouds.

Of course, I do enjoy my pareidolia. I saw a face mask and eyes in these photographs, traces of a face as well. Do you see them?
On with the blogging. I really need some sleep, but the blog must go on! Hehehe!

♫Oh, Susana♫ came from the door chime, and I got up to answer it; it was dear Josie bringing back her weekend meal tray and pots. She volunteered how much she liked them this week. Which was nice to hear.
The right foot was hurting somewhat when I took the things off of Josie, so I took a look at the plates and ankle. Sure enough, the right leg and foot looked like they were swelling up again? Ah, that might be due to the little hobble I took earlier? See how quick I was there? I can be like lightning at times! Hahaha!
The Evening Carer could be here at any time from now. I’ll make a start on the day’s ode, I think.
Hello, the rains starting! By the time I’d got the camera out to take a snap of it, it had stopped. Ah, well, every little bit helps!

I was just about to mention that the wee-weeing had stopped.   But no, more annoying, after-dribbling wee-wees are back again.
I’ve changed my mind and am going to get something to eat instead.

The doggie hot dog sausages I’d cooked had a tough plastic skin on them that I’d not noticed before. I had to skin them before eating. They looked terribly pale then, and the smooth texture, that was not appealing whatsoever to look at.
But my gum, they tasted delicious! The sliced potatoes and tomatoes were disappointing. The part-baked bread was gorgeous! And the No-Bull vegan ice cream to follow, as you know by now, I loved! The overall Taste Rating was 8.2/10. I washed the pots and got down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner. Put the TV on, and I promptly drifted off into the land of Nod. For half an hour or so…

I was rudely awakened by the tune of ♫ Oh, Susan ♫, and Carer Sarah (I might have the wrong name there, sorry if so) came in. Soon got the medications sorted for me. Selected a cold can of G&T for her choice of treats from the fridge, picked up the waste bag, and off she went. Thank you!

Could I get back to sleep again? Well, yes, I did this time! I think it was sheer exhaustion, the upsetting farce, and the hobble the dentist helped. I slept right through until about 01:00hrs, no jumping awakes, no wee-wees needed. Grrreat! In fact, as I made my way to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), I sensed the need for the Porcelain Throne.
. It turned out the Constipation Conrad had taken over the innards functions, and despite my best efforts to move things, nothing evacuated from the rear end. However, an FPBWW (Forceful-Painful-Blasting) marathon of a wee-wee flowed out as if from a hose pipe! I washed the dandies and things and returned to my chair, hoping to get some sleep again.

Amazingly, I soon got to kip and was dreaming of being on a big wheel, with an old girlfriend… and jumped awake so violently, with wind escaping flutteringly, from my rear end. Dang, Dang…Dang Dang! The race was on to get back to the Throne! Tearing free of the pyjama bottoms, I plonked my elephantine-bellied body down on the seat… the biggest, longest, and it is possible, making a raspberry-sounding-like release that shook the foundations of my insides!
Then, this time, a wee-wee session arrived; in the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. Each I felt it was coming to an end, the trickle refreshed! Well, if nothing else, I was getting a variety of WC and Throne visits. Hehehe!

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

COMING SOON

An Inchcock Today Special…

I’ve forgotten what it is, but,

if I remember or find any notes

on the scribble pad…

I’ll let you know… Sorry!

Inchcock’s Retrieved Dairy, Photos & Odes


THURSDAY 21st JULY 2022

My scribbled reminder notes were lost! Well, I say lost; I tore them up thinking they were Wednesdays. Gragnangles! So detailed facts are missing will be missing.

Sphygmomanometerisationing revealed SYS 148, DIA 62 and pulse at a reasonable rate of 79mpm. Pleased with these numbers, I entered the results in the NHS Cardiac Check You Rates site & then made this little graphicalisation, just for the fun of it  (Yes, I’m just a child at heart… and a 99-year-old, bodily) Hehehe, Extra pleasing to be only just in the red, for three days now.

Of course, with my bungee-jumping, gym work, hill-climbing and daily push-ups, The wee-wees started coming. Each one

Taking the advice from HRH Petal-Lisa, a kind. She’s one lovely lady from Cincinnati, The Manor Laboratories: I took the evening’s Seed Oil Hemp capsule and a squirt of under-tongue CBD. Yes, I know it’s morning, but I forgot to take the last night, it could happen to anyone… Ahem!)

In the past fifteen minutes, I’ve wee-weed a further four times. Every one of them, annoyingly with much. So irritating! I had a quick chat with my animal family in their bed-box tray on the cabinet. Incidentally, HRH Petal-Lisa, my ether Angel made each one for me and posted them from the USA for Christmas! ♥ We’ve never met, but somehow through the ether, Lisa has got to know me well. ♥ Thanks, my Angel!

The Iceland food arrived, causing me a fair bit of pain! The driver put the first four bags in the hallway for me and the last one (on the left) close to the doorway. Several 2-litre bottles hit my knee on their way down to hit my toes, and picking them up, I stubbed my big toe again! Whereunto he’d been treated and gone, the bottles fell out of the bags, and I had to be standing next to them when it happened, of course.

I got the frozen foods into the freezer; well, it seemed like a logical move – Hehe!). No No-Bull veggie burgers or Spring Water were unavailable yet again! The bread was substituted.
I’d got some 2-litre bottles of limeade and lemonade as substitutes for the water. Sorted out the other bits and took the waste to the rubbish chute. And, getting the bags in the opening, I cunningly dropped a bag that landed on the leg ulcer. It inflamed it for a while, but the ankle was still much better than yesterday! The legs, feet and toes are not so chubby, either. I gave myself a knock on the shoulder coming out of the room.
Memory blanks from here on for a while; I can recall taking this night shot late on. Not taking the Hemp, so staying asleep was not possible; always jumping awake. So I got up and made a much-belated meal. It was a good one, mind you. Flavour Rating; 8.2/10.
Followed by an orange jelly, and I sprayed all around it with a vegan cream substitute. Jolly good that was too!
WordPressing for hours, ended up doing it until 04:00hrs in the morning, so sleep deprivation continues.
I can only blame Dementia Doreen!

FRIDAY 22nd JULY 2022

The thoughts for this Ode matured…
After Inchy stubbed his toe and simpered…
And logicality and reasoning were suspended,
Commonsense and judgement were temporarily abandoned…
Inchies creativity stuttered and wandered!

The English language was primarily disregarded,
His few remaining grey cells working, both tottered…
Suddenly captivated with the thought of being sepultured?
Inchy was never educated or cultured…
His trepidations, worries, and fears, are never resolved…
How come he has never been happy, content or cavorted?
Here is his Ode, although it won’t be extolled!


My mind used to be like a constellation…
Grasping facts, and figures, offering help and confirmation,
Making things efficient, through thoughts and modification,
Famed for my excellent, calm use of conceptualisation,
Seeking improvements for all, through rumin
ation,
Then the Stroke, brain power went into absquatulation…
Next; Peripheral Neuropathy, arithmophobia, ‘Damnation!’

Now paramnesia, memory problems… depression!
Suffering many a mental aberration…
Fears, worries, oppression, no passion!
Shakes and shudders, aches & pains, tumbles, concussion…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, giving me mental fossilisa
tion,
My life needs some lightness, feuilleton!
Making decisions and choices need extra persuasion!

Food prices rocketing; I can no longer afford my stilton…
Gone are the urge, ability and cash for any perversion,
No strength for any insurrection, rebellion or subversion,
Wee-weeing too much, the odd Porcelain Throne explosion…
Stuck indoors with my misery, apathy and mental inertion…
I hate my good health and mental abilities desertion…
Failures and accidents come in an endless succussion!
Friday next i
s my first Diabetes Coping session!
Have to go now; it’s time for creams, injection and medication,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

   Yea, Gawd of heaven! I know the recent Blood Pressure readings have been good for the last few days, only just in the red zone, but today, the SYS was 111, the lowest ever recorded in my life! And in the green area!!! DIA at 57 was down 5 points, and my Pulse rate was down 8. .

Oh, boy, I’, in the green,
The lowest that it’s ever been!
Amazing, fantastic, I mean…
This really blew my brain…
I hope tomorrow it’s that again!

Got the session done with a visit from Dizzy Dennis in the shower, short and sharp, all over. Probably caused by my diabetic polyneuropathy, compared to anything else, because it started so sharply and ended the same way. Minutes later, I needed to return to the wet room to use the and what a struggle that was. Talk about resistance!
The swelling in the feet was no worse, and the ankle ulcer much easier for my getting around,
I got on with the blogging updating and spent an hour or so at it, needing three wee-wees during that time… then…
I went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and the heat and smell of burnt plastic greeted me! I’d put the kettle on earlier but had not heard the whistle to alert me it was boiling!
Had to use the oven gloves to get the warped, melted plastic handle and lid-lift kettle, and I dropped it into the sink, filling it with cold water straightway! Then had to clean mess up; the cooker, floor, bag up the kettle and the melted bits and apices that had dropped off, putting things in the sink. Then wrote this sad ode to the kettle. (Mad? Me? Yes!)


The morning Carer arrived, Valerie. I gave her her choice of cold drink from the fridge, and she took the caste bags from earlier to the chute for me (Not the kettle, I took that, in case any sharp bits cut the Carer),
Checked on the ankle ulcer, and it was getting a little fighter?
Half an hour later, it had gone down and all calm again?

Cragknangles! Off to the wet room to clean up, medicate, and get new PPs on. Hehehe!
You can’t win… well, not me!

Inchcock: Wednesday’s Diary & Ode

The moon landing was expensive in terms of costs and men dying…
But had to be done cause of Uri Gagarin…
Space race? The Russians were now leading,
First to the moon, the USA not conceding…
Conspiracists said the films were misleading,
Shadows in the wrong place, the flag was waving…
The trip took 109 hours, 42 minutes, launch to landing,
About the time it took me to get to see Dr Sanding…
Then she wasn’t there, more complex than a moon landing!.

———————————–

Inchcocks Diary

Approx 05:30 hours, I stirred back into life and promptly tumbled out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not working recliner. There I was, on my bum, with one leg on the swivel chair and the other bent awkwardly but somehow under the chair. And in a bit of a predicament! I stunned myself for a smidgeon. (Obvious to me that I’d been doing some tossing and turning and edged towards the front of the chair? Can’t recall any dreaming.)
I could sense the wet warm flow of blood in the Protection pants, which would be either Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, or Harold’s Haemorrhoids, whichever or both, the need to get up and investigate, clean and medicate things was causing a bit of a panic in me. (I panic so well!) There was an urgency to my need to somehow get back up and onto my feet…
In my sad, messy manoeuvring painfully, first back on the chair, then onto my feet, I stubbed my same, the same one twice, which with the swollen feet and toes was worse than usual. I slipped my arm off the side of the recliner, getting up. Hitting my chin on the corner arm. No time to mess about, though, and I got Metal Micky, and we hobbled to the wet room. Bit of good fortune here. It was only Harold’s Haemorrhoids that were bleeding. Thus it was far less painful to medicate than the lesion would have been. The toes and chin were enough to keep my attention.
I did notice the vast improvement in the ankle ulcer, though, compared to Tuesday evening’s photo, this morning was much calmer and swollen looking. It must have been around an hour after waking that I started to think the day’s needs through. Food order to do, ask Meridian if they have sorted anything out with the Diabetes session. Get Richards’s treats sorted out. Got to… No, I’d better have a wee-wee first. And what a leak that was! Galore, and one of the longest wee-wees that I’ve ever taken! And they kept coming throughout the day!

The Blood Pressure sphygmomanometerisationing was yet another great set of results: SYS 44, DIA 62 and the Pulse, a smidgeon up, at 91 bpm!   
The body temperature had risen to an almost perfect figure, at 35.1°f.
Interruption: The landline burst forth; it was a very hard-to-hear and understand lady (I think?), from the dentist’s surgery, on Mansfield Road. Reminding me of my appointment next. Plenty of time for me to forget it, though.
I input the BP numbers into the NHS Work-it-out site. (Left graphic wot I sun) It came out the same as yesterday! Don’t know why I made a sad face on it?
I got the computer on to finalise yesterday’s blog and found the SD car was reading again? I swiftly got the few, well, three photos from yesterday that I could not get on done. Then titivated the blog and felt a smidge smug, but what with my luck in waking up and thudding to the floor, I thought it best not to get too confident.

The lad was worn out, and I was his last call. Richard arrived, and I thanked him for getting me some help yesterday, and I flashed him my much better-looking ankles… Hehehe! He warned me that thunderstorms were forecast for this afternoon. I thought it was a lot cooler today. We had a little natter, too and froing, and a laugh or two. This is good then; when he’s not too tired, he can spend a little longer with me, chinwagging. Gave him some treats in thanks, and off he trotted, in much need of his bed.

I am walking much better this morning after the initial waking-up boo-boo! Not having to walk on the heels today shows how the swelling has gone down in the legs and feet.

Although the toes still look like baby ones. Hehe! And, the bruise under the chin has not given me any bother at all! Even Arthur Itis in the knees has calmed done.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out from the door chime. It was neighbour Josie, returning Sunday’s crumb-covered tray and dishes from her meal. I’m not sure which of us is the worst, Hahaha! The poor gal didn’t look too well. I pointed the walking stick at my feet and said they were much better. Josie replied, “Yes, very good; I’ll try to…” Smiled and wandered back into her flat. I’m not sure who is the worst with Dementia and our lousy hearing. Hahaha! I tried to work out what she thought I had said but without success. Bless her ♥

Noise merchant Herbert from the flat above kicked off with his tap-tapping, the odd thud, and scuffing noises thrown in. He kept it u[ for hours on and off. He must have a special job lined up? Hello, I think he just dropped a box of tools. Ah, the drilling and grating noises have started now; he must be getting on with it, bless him. Back to the tap-tapping again…

I finally got the blog finished and posted off to WordPress. Went on the comments page. I had tons come in. But got them both answered. Then nipped on the WP Reader. Now it is time to get the ablutionalisationing tended to; and check Harolds Haemorrhoids, amongst other ailments. Hehehe! Back soon. Well, I hope to be back shortly.
I’m back. And what a good session that was! Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving on the chin where I ‘Chin-Butted’ the arm of the chair first thing this morning getting back up from the floor after my tumble out of the chair. No toe-stubbing, no Dizzies, I walked into nothing either. I have a mini involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance while I was shaving, hence, the little nick.
Had a wee-wee (it must have been number twelve of the day at least) and remembered what Carer Richard said when he was checking the use-by dates for me; “I’ve never seen yer with so little in yer fridge!”. So, I investigated and made an order for Iceland. They have no bottled water in stock either. So I ordered some low-cal lemonade. I must keep up with the drinking in this hot weather while the legs and feet retain so much fluid. Coming in the morning twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs.
As I started prepping the meal, I remembered the last Iceland delivery I’d had last week. The squashed bananas, the leaking bottle of liquid soap, short-dated yoghourt… and of course, there not having any of my beloved No Bull burgers or bread I ordered in stock. And the crap substitutions… I may have made a mistake here…

Had a tin of curried beans that I seasoned with the usual squid vinegar, malt vinegar and Vegan BBQ sauce. Put a part-baked loaf in the oven halfway through cooking. The beans and bread were excellent, but the veggie burgers were terrible; the crispy crumbs were not crisp. How clearly now, after making the order, one remembers one’s self-promise never to trust or use Iceland again! Being low on choices with the low stocks in the fridge, I decided to use up the crap and substituted it with Iceland bean burgers in crispy breadcrumbs.
As instructed, I got my feet up on a chair and sat watching TV. I soon nodded off, but could I stay asleep? Not a chance!

When I gave up on sleep, I took a photograph of the ankle ulcer and feet, and they looked so much improved from how Tuesdays were. The toes remain a bit pudgy. The retained fluid, giving me rock-hard legs, was also reduced.
.
The ♫Oh, Susana♫ tune chimed out, and in walked Valerie. She was a little happier tonight. Got the medications sorted, and I gave her a can of cold orange Fanta from the fridge; she liked that. Val took the waste bags with her on her way out.

I settled down to watch the England Ladies Game v Spain. I’ve never been more proud of an England team since 1966! I wish could have been France we beat, though. That would have been the icing on the cake. We will have to play against Sweden or Belgium, if we get through, France will have to be conquered!

ODE TO SELF-IRRISION & DERISION

I no longer have inspiration and very little gumption,
Life for me is sinking into declension…
Dementia means I’ve little recent memory retention,
Yet sometimes recall things, to my stupefaction…
I’m waiting on the EENT to have an operation,
For my cataracts, called Phacoemulsification,
I persistently wee-wee; and have hypertension.
I’m almost deaf, yet have tintinnabulation?

Arthur Itis, Ankle ulcer, and fluid-filled legs, with many a contusion,
Peripheral Neuropathy, a mechanical ticker, destitution…
I think St Peter should give me restitution!
Should I have been born? Am I a substitution?
Was I meant to be a boy or girl? That’s the question…
Parents named Inchcock, during gestation…
With a man-tool the same size, did my prospect worsen?
Unfortunately, I can’t make past miseries unhappen.

At birth, Mother said, ‘I don’t want it; I was crestfallen…
No wonder, as a youngster, I was so sullen!
Slowly my resistance began to weaken…
I lived on lard sarnies and Iprobrufen…
I asked every adult I met for an adoption,
I ran away from home, I had no option…
I went for shelter from Auntie Gretchen,
She just threw me out of the kitchen!

The next day, I hobbled back home, downfallen…
I got in and spoke, hoping they would listen.
No one knew I’d gone; my life never started to glisten?
My developing years were misery and rotten…
Then Mother was freed from jail; she’d been forgotten…
Laughing and being happy was then verboten…
I left school at 14 and got a job baling cotton!.

Depressed, I considered becoming an anthropophaginian,
There was a week when my life seemed ambrosian!
Matilda was her name, an arithmetician,
Randy? No need to ask her for her permission!.

But she turned out to be a Pinoccohian,
Not only that but an absinthian,
I returned to Nottingham, working as a beautician.

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