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: 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.
① She was pleased with not getting any answers, so she may have put up the costs she charges, and I will never know.
② 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!

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TTFN

Inchcock’s Diary & ‘Today is Tomorrow Ode’

SUNDAY 24th JULY 2022
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I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late.
It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?

I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly.
CW05 The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid.
But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).

All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit.
From the kitchenette window, I took a photo of the facing car park of Chestnut Way, an interesting bit of parking there,

Then, from the balcony, a snap of the Tree Copse, which only set me feeling sorry for myself now that I can’t go for my daily ramble through it.

Back into the cookhouse and started to p[rep the veg for Josie’s meal. I took another shot from close to the window to try and catch a decent image of the rain hitting the glass. My eyesight seemed a smidgeon worse this Sunday. To all intents and purposes, the spots were running down the glass; when I took off my spectacles, they were not and just seemed stuck like glue in the positions they were already?
I went through my collection of old glasses; to see which helped better… or rather hindered my sight the least. I found that the oldest reader pair and ricketiest were for computing work. Normal or long distance, none of them helped. I hope they summon me soon for the cataract to be done.

Got the medical checks sorted out next.

SIA 134, DIA 79 and the pulse oas a reasonable 85bpm.

The body temperature was 33.3°f, with a target of 35°f, it was well acceptable to me.

Not the lowest SIA, but the combination of resusults, when put in the NHS Work it out site, showed me still in the orange Pre-High stage, and yesterday and this morning are the only times it’s been so low. Proof that mt Doctor is winning the battle to get my BP down. Thank you, Doctor Vindla. It only took you six years from the heart op to get it right… well, nearly right. (Ahem!)

Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha!

I spent a few hours getting the blog prepped, and I made some quote tabs to use on CorelDraw. When I nipped to the fridge to see what was available to quench my sudden hunger and thirst… there was nothing! How had I let myself run so low? I blame only one person and one thing, the person, is undoubtedly me, is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.

I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. It was looking okay, and after a spoonful found its way to my lips, I declared it as being Josie-ably tasty! I nipped back to the computer to get some prep work done on that. and plan to return to the cooking to stir things a bit regularly. But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! But it got worse!
After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course.

As she opened the door and said straight away: “There’s more than ever this time, Gerry! It dawned on why I’d made so much. I was going to have the Chilli as well, but somehow I forgot and gave it all to Josie. Ah, well, it’ll last her for three meals now. Hahaha! Josie seemed pleased enough with it. I wished the gal good eating, came back into the flat and promptly cursed my stupidity!
I did some work on this blog, and then I had a look in the freezer. Aha, fish and chips? That’s what I’ll have then. Got it sorted, and in the oven cooking, the writing was too small to read. so I guessed at the time needed. I assumed it would be around 40 minutes. Then a brainstorm forced me to mop the kitchen…

Oh, dearie me…

Got back to check on the food, and it was looking good.
Notice, I did not say it tasted good…
It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!

I put the pots in the sink to soak, returned to the chair, and got down to get some much-needed sleep – so I put the TV on; that usually helps me nod off. And did this time for once. But I was in desperate need of some.
Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe!
Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!

I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue.
Seeing this road reminded me of an article I’d read on the YourArea website about the Grove. So I looked on the map to get its name for us. As you see, it was Applewood Grove. No crime reported in 2021? Even we at Winwood Court Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’

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

It’s true, Today is Tomorrow, or say…
Alternatively, Tomorrow could be, Today,
Neither could be both, whichever way,
Unless you just wait until the following day…
I suppose you think I’m mad, straightaway?

At times my mind tends to drift far away,
Or I’ll not know if it’s Monday or Tuesday…
This often happens on Friday, actually…
But the brain is working fairly well, unusually,
I’ll try not to topically lose it or fade away…
For I have thoughts to share today…
That may seem to you partly disillusionary,
But it may clarify our vocabulary and ancestry!

I believe that time has been too discretionary,
“Standard time” in effect for a shrinking portion yearly,

Daylight saving time, controlling the clock monthly,
Lawmakers have extended summertime schedule, surely…
Clock changes vary, with locations yearly…
Consequently, the time differences will have to vary…
Between regions, to understand it can send you silly!

Clocks, time changes, and days are not like a barometer…
Mankind toys with time, but are they right or full of blatter?
The world will soon be ending, so does it matter?
There will be no humans to worry about hereinafter…
No money to steal, no murderers, no laughter,
It’ll no longer be a disgrace to be a grammaticaster!

We have changed so much, without knowing…
Or caring for any costs in life and consequences,
Again, the ‘Lord’ is not revealing…
Although his Fathers and Priests are appealing…
The well-off are revelling…
The poor are trembling and dying,
Politicians, Bankers constantly fiddling and lying!
Scum balls murdering, mugging and burgling…
Firebombing, divorcing, schemozzling, little elutriating!

So time means… almost nothing,
Earth’s final moments are here, thanks to the Kremlin,
And people throwing recyclables in the dustbin…
We’re killing more people now than Nazi Berlin,
You’ll have paid for your pension and coffin…
But fret not; hope lies with a clever boffin!

Working on a time machine, so we can go back in time…
Preferably to a time before cybercrime,
Where workers were paid overtime!
Murderers were duly hung and did no more crime!
When folks knocked on doors and did not press a battery-powered chime!
Thus saving future generations would that be benign?
Note that this option would not be sublime…
For two reasons that come to mind!.
Who do you think would get to travel back in time?
Only the rich, politicians, and or the bosses of crime!
Earth of the future may soon design…
Another machine to travel through time…

They may go back to your current placing?
Having loaded nuclear weapons before leaving…
We’ll soon have time-machines to and fro racing…
And in the turmoil of war, wanting to be leaving…
Will be earlier time travellers, needing bullet-proofing…
God may send his lad down for some investigating…
I can hear him now “What the hell have you been doing?”

If you can get the chance, you’ll travel back to now…
Chances are, you can start again. but I’m not sure how,
Cause the time will have changed somehow?

Life may have restarted: a few cavemen on earth now?
Show them a torch, and they’ll kowtow,

Get to know them, have a powwow…

Soon, of profits, you’ll begin to think!
And suddenly put up with the cavemen’s stink,
Invent money, sell them coats, strip a mink,

Flog them an insurance policy and glasses if they wink,
Get them working cheaply, so they don’t get skint,
Build an army, police force, and a clink!

Mind you, I have to say…
More time travellers could arrive any day…
You must stop them, find a way…
If you can’t, alackaday…

Today can be Tomorrow or Tomorrow Today!

I Fang You!

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode

AND THE HOSPITAL VISIT

Friday 15th July 2022

Not in too much detail early one. I fear time was against me today, getting things sorted out for the trip to the EENT Hospital in the morning.

My first thought was I wanted to go back to sleep and had an extreme disinterest in getting up. But a wet warm sensation from the rear end encouraged me to clamber out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and off to the wet room tp check things out. En route further enlivened me. I messed and Pottered about getting confused and self-hassled. I stirred back into imitation life around 05:50hrs.

True to his promise, Carer Richard arrived dead on 06:00hrs. He was pleased that I knew which day it was. I remembered what it was that Jillie asked me to ask Richard!
The Blood Pressure’s SIA caught me out at 166. The DIA at 98, both too high that by a fair bit. However, the pulse and body temperatures were honky-dory! I entered the figures into the NHS site to see what they make of it. Oh, I see; this was the result. Not a good start, methinks. You know, it’ll be back down in the morning. Or not, of course, there is always that possibility. Let’s face it, with my record, anything is possible. (As I hope you’ll read about later, when I was in the ambulance, Hehehe!) It was a humorous yet embarrassing incident that failed to bring any laughter to the ambulance man & woman, but things were not going well for them.

I made a start on this blog; to get as far as I could with it, just in case the operation was done and I’d incapacitated by blindness (It wasn’t done as it happens, but more about that later).
Of course, the wee-wees started coming, weak sprinkly affairs, but each one was leaking before its time! So, on the third or fourth burst, I decided to get the ablutions done and replace the PPs with thicker, more efficient Tena ones. Even if they do stick out a little prominently under the trouser’s rear-end. I also stopped drinking any more spring water; I feared all the immanent waiting about at the hospital may produce leakages! Hehe!
On with the scrubbing-up, I ventured. As you can see, there were a couple of nicks while shaving. One on the cheek, the other on the left ear-hole tab-hole. Nowt serious, though. I missed cleaning the teggies altogether – no idea why; Dementia Doreen I should blame. Then some niftily quick, which brought out more bleeding; From Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I had no trips or walking into anything or tumbles.

Still no sign of transport, and it’s getting late. So, as the beautiful morning view of the skies caught my eye, I thought I’d take a couple of shots of it with the Canon camera. I did as soon as I found out where I’d put the camera for the trip to the hospital. It took some finding, and as for the sunglasses, it’s evening now, and I still haven’t found them! Hehehe! I took another shot below, showing the parked cars on Chestnut Way. An incredible view, which I am pleased to have here at the flats. Strange that all the red vehicles seem to be avoiding this part of the site’s parking zones today? Haha! Whites, grey and blacks only? There’ll be a reason for this. I suppose. I made sure all the stuff was saved, and I shut down the computer. Then sat on a chair near the door so I didn’t miss the intercom if it rang… clever stuff, I thought? Well, for me! It’s set on the highest level available, but many folks have said they cannot hear it, so I’m not on my own. A clever move there on behalf of the Nottingham City Homes planners, ensuring that it is suitable for a block of flats with 70, 80, and 90+-year-olds living in it. Similar to the finger-strapping metal spring clips on the end balcony windows… Oh, and balcony slide doors, apart from the few that have fallen off the runners when used. Not only mine but others too. And they are cumbersome, too, I can assure you. Any injuries have been well hidden. You can see my mind wandering while waiting for the lift. Hehe!

Aha, the intercom buzzed. I’d everything ready so as not to keep them waiting. A dingle crewed chap, who told he was pleased I was all-prepared; because he’d been running late all morning. We picked up an elderly lady in Woodthorpe en route. We tried to have a natter in the back of the ambulance, but we struggled with hearing each other. Pleasant lady, going to the same place, EENT, I think.

I realised when I ferreted through my pockets and trolley that my plans had not gone to plan. I assume the sunglasses, bobble hat, and wristwatch were still on the Carer’s table back at the flat.

We were soon at the QMC EENT unit. The driver took me in first, explaining to the lady that on his own, he can only take in one person at a time. I bade farewell to the lady, wishing her all the best, and hobbled into the integral unit, led by the driver. Who ascertained that I had to go through to another block. Luckily he was still behind me when I got lost, and he corrected me, with a wry smile on his face, to the suitable unit. Haha! Where I waited to be seen.

A lady called out my name, and she took me through to yet another place, where I waited again. Minutes later, another lady fetched me and took me to her treatment room. Oh, yes, ladies are desperate for me! This happens all the time, you know…

I found out that the paperwork was wrong, and today was not as it said; Not the operation, but more assessments and tests on the eyes. All of which I had on my last appointment? Fair enough, there were many different eye tests, intending to make the plastic cornea a different size to match my misshaped one, which may prove too difficult, making the operation impossible. Well, that cheered me up, no-end! An hour or so after getting the tests and questions, the kind lady walked me back to the correct reception, and she told the lady I needed transporting. (She didn’t say where to, Pluto perhaps? Hahaha!.

ODE TO THE WAIT

I got seated and began the marathon wait for transport,
It wasn’t a quick wait… not short,
But I made up a game for fun and sport…
Counting patients, who arrived after me, made me haught…
Who went before me, making me fraught…

The place cleared; have they forgotten about me, I feared?
After three hours, I felt a bit weird…
I’m not brave, a stalwart, but a worrywart,
No one around to ask or to talk…
Nothing occurring to which I could claught…
Any hopes of a lift of any sort,
Four hours later, relief from worry was bought,
Two medics arrived for me; I was overwrought,
To the ambulance, I did cavort,
But pleasure in it, that I can report…
Getting home left me despondent and taut!

Inside the ambulance was a stretcher. The male of the pair of medics said: We’ve got to collect someone else from the gynaecology Wing over the road. I waited so long that it didn’t bother me. The stretcher was unfastened, and off they went to collect their patient.
I thought it a good idea to phone Jillie on my mobile while on my own. So, I did! To tell her to thank you, my honeypot, but the operation wasn’t done, so no need for your kind offer of coming to stay with me, as I can still see.
  Things didn’t pan out as I had wished. I got through to Jillie, and damned Peripheral Pete gave me an Involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routine! Despite my having had the seatbelt buckled, I managed somehow to end up on the floor of the ambulance. I fumbled my way back into the seat and slid the belt back on before the medics got back, which was ten minutes late, with a young lady on the stretcher. As they wheeled her into the ambulance, and she padded me on the right side, I gave her a welcoming smile and unintentional wink from the bad eye. Thankfully she gave me such a sweet smile back… then! Bless her! I think it was her appreciation for someone smiling and talking to her, not at her.

The crew could not get the stretcher holder mechanism to reset or lock. Well, that’s all they seemed interested in as they repeatedly banged and pushed the trolley into the mechanism. I swear they never thought about the patient getting knocked all over as they did it. I asked the lady if she was alright and got dirty looks from Mork & Mindy for it. This made a temporary bond between the gal and me, I think.

The crew spoke to we patients, which was not often apart from talking between themselves. ‘We’ll have to get help cause we can’t get the stretcher to lock’ (You don’t say?) One of them fetched another paramedic who arrived to have a look, and he clicked it in the first time! Much to my and the lady’s relief! We tried to chat on the way, but hearing her was difficult with the engine and traffic noise, but she seemed to be feeling better.

They dropped me off after a cock-up that may have been mine, I’m not sure. I mentioned when they were looking for which block I live in, the end one. Then proceeded to explain why they could get confused, Winchester Court, Winwood Court, and Woodthorpe Court; all three are called Windwood Heights. Then the female told the driver to go back. He lives in Winwood! Which he did. I had to embarrassingly (if I had told them wrongly). That he was right, I do live at the end one… Oh, dear, if looks could kill, I’d have been a goner!

I wished the lady on the stretcher well. And gladly told the driver I could manage from here, with a weak ‘Thanks’ added. And turned to wave at the lady, I don’t know if she could see me, but I wanted to. Hope she got home without any more hassle, Bless her cotton socks! ♥

Home Sweet Home! The hat and sunglasses were where I thought I’d left them. I only noticed them glancingly in my haste to avoid any embarrassment on my way to the wee-wee room. I failed! So a good start to my evening’s plans! I had a good clean-up, and I got some fresh PPs on. The Tena ones I was wearing had done a good reliable job in the containment stakes.

Made a brew and got the computer on to do this blog. And the landline burst forth. It was the Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic nurse, wanting to know if the following Monday would be alright for them to call to take the blood test. Hah! I had to tell her that it was the Cataract appointment day. She will ring me back the day before she comes. Thinking about it afterwards, it might prove problematic if she is going to call Tuesday, wonnit? Just my luck!

The sunshine was still bright. I took a shot through the balcony windows. bootiful sky again!

Joe the Carer arrived, and I started to tell him about the farcical day. But, to avoid him falling to sleep, I cut it short. Hehehe! Gave him a cold bottle of Coots from the fridge, which he appreciated.
A long hard slog of blogging ensued.
Around five hours or so, I did stop for the occasional wee-wee. Several in fact, it’s a miracle I got through all that time at the hospital without needing one – another mystery of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Crafty that! Cunningly this time, using a bit of good luck for me thrown in the mix.
Veggie burgers (The last, I hope to get some on the next Morrison order, as Iceland were out of stock, Humph!) Tomatoes, garden peas, beetroot, gherkins, and that’s yer lot! A late, late supper instead of a dinner.

Belated food, then bed, and prayer that the day’s events don’t kick off a thought-storming session and stop me sleeping – PLEASE!

Oh, I’d better get this posted first, Tsk! TTFN!

Inchcock Today: The Dream, Odes & Diary

Nocturnal Visitors

I stirred from my slumber,
I’d had a dream, but could I remember,
I checked to make sure I was sober…
Nodded off again, I woke to discover,
Scribble on the notepad, needing to decipher.
The following facts are what I managed to gather…

Start of the dream, I looked out and got in a lather…
Ghosts and Goblins in the sky, but no bother…
Indeed I tried with them to have a blatherer…
Then did an instant maneuverer…
I was in the ground floor link corridor?
The ectoplasms, ghosts, got grotesquerer!
In walked animals, a skele
ton, and a roboton!
Probably others too that I’ve forgotten!

Not the weirdest dream that I’ve begotten,
Didn’t bother me; they did nowt rotten…
Oh, the Grim Reaper, he looked sullen…
One of the creatures looked like a wivern.

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
I took a Codeine for the pain to dullen…

As I woke up, I was thunderstrucken,
I fell out of the chair, hit my knee it got swollen,
Better make a start on the diary; it’s gone eleven!

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

Tuesday 12th July 2022

So, a modicum of concentration and determination developed, and I motored on with the Blood Pressure utilised the A&D Medical Supplies, made in Chinese sphygmomanometer. Then did the body temperature. All the results were of an acceptable standard this jolly Tuesday morning. In particular, the temperature and pulse are almost within the set result target ranges. Then after having a natter with the family, nada Lillie the Lamb checking on my notepad and keeping herself up to date, it is time to get the ablutions done.
I stripped off (I do a lot of that, you know) and made my way to the wet room… where I easily and simultaneously stubbed my toe on Sock Glide Glenda as I was taking the hearing aids out and dropped one and out popped the battery. With cataracts, I could not follow the multi-circular route taken as the battery spun around. I’ve got plenty of batteries to use, but it’s so annoying when one escapes. Hehe! Things went well enough after that for a while. The teeth (painful), then shaving (only one cut!) were completed, showering and on to the drying off… Ah, a slight chance of luck now!
The Wee-weeing sessions restarted and were uncomfortable. The pants that had been half on at the time of the Accifauxpa were mostly blood-red in seconds! They were all of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible Trickling) style. But this was nothing compared to what the state Peripheral Pete’s caused me! I’d done the medicationalisationings and was getting into a new pair of protection Pants, and off went the right leg on the Neuropathic dance routine! A bit frisky this one was, and I last my balance and hot my newly washed and medicated wedding tackle against the sink edge.

I realised later that I had also knocked out another tooth, bruised the eye slightly, and somehow, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were leaking too! It took me ages to get everything sorted out; a good job that the carer was a little late. I was cleaning up the wet room mess I’d made when I realised there were some, just a few new spots of blood on the floor? I must have caught the scab on the burn mark on the knuckles. But it was nothing like the blood for Harolds Haemorrhoids, the tooth or fungal lesion: they were all the usual deep red type. This was almost pink… I think? It stopped of its own accord a minute or so later. Worra Day!
Carer Richard arrived, and he was in a rush. Rich was coughing a lot; I hope he’ll be alright. He’s got a diabetes session to attend this morning, I reckon he said.
Wished him all the bestest as he left with some treats; then, I had a closer look at the ankle’s ulcers. Well, what a surprise, they haven’t looked this calm in months. I’ve forgotten the rest of the ditty? Ah-well, win some, lose some…
After what seemed an aeon, I got on with the blogging. I meant to say, earlier on, about 02:00hrs, (Yes, Sweet Morpheus is not pleased with me! I looked at the calendar, and I was sure I’d ordered an Iceline order to come today. So I checked on the website. It told me I had no orders, so I got on the J Sainsbury site and made an order with them for tomorrow.
You see, this Friday, I have the first Cataract operation, so I will be virtually blind afterwards, then I’ve got to go back for an examination to see if it’s worked okay. So, I intend to get the cupboards and fridge filled up before I leave cause there is a chance they told Jillie when she phoned them that I may be kept in, in the event any Whoopsiedangleplops during the operation.

Then a while later, NokiaI got a message on my G6⅘ths Ultra-modern mobile phone. It was from Icel
and informing me that my delivery that they told me was not ordered), will be delivered shortly? Now, I’ve got a J Sainsbury order coming tomorrow as well! Could things get worse? Well, yes, and they did! Humph! The products were in liners, not carrier bags…

Iceland had No Vegan beefburgers, no milk roll bread (sent a substitute loaf), Bananas soft and three of the five burst open; the pot of No-Bull vegan ice cream was in liquid form, a right mess. To clean up! – You would not believe the state of the food! The strawberries were squashed, the biscuits in crumbs and one of the packets of AAA batteries card and plastic retainer shell was off; it was never seen – I just collected the eight batteries from the depths of the wet food. This was one of the worst deliveries I’ve ever had from them.

Still, on the bright side, I’ve got food galore in the fridge; I’ve probably not got room for the Sainsbury’s stuff to get them in on Thursday. However, the ice cream will likely take months to harden enough to eat. I suppose I could drink it? Both pots!
Oh, and the bananas tasted okay, just a shame that I paid for five and only two were edible, and they were bruised inside, and I had to watch what I was eating. Oh, never mind! The lid on the jar of beetroot was loose, and…

At long last, I got onto the blogging, and the door-chime burst forth. It was Josie returning Sunday’s utensils from her meal. As I took the tray and things from her, I told her I had some strawberries for her, asking her to hang on while I fetched them. When I returned to the door with the fruits, Josie had gone back into her flat.

I’m not sure which of us is worse than the other, she or me, for hearing, and we both guess at what is being said, I think sometimes. Hahaha!
I told her about my going into the hospital to have my cataracts seen on Friday and then Monday for a follow-up. Then I said I’ll see if see enough to do you a meal or not come Sunday. But I expect not. She laughed and… I think anyway, “Yes, I’ll be in for lunch on Sunday…” Of course, I could have misheard her; she definitely misheard me… Hahaha! As she ook the Strawberries, she said she felt guilty about me making the fodder every Sunday. I said it was my pleasure… “Can I get some bananas for you at the weekend?” I put my thumbs up and smiled…

Int life great when yer gerowd? Har-har!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I was wondering about my hypertension…

Is it cause Neil Kinnock is a distant relation?
Or cause I’m still waiting for the Vicar’s confirmation…
Or my habit of losing track and digression?
Why do I want the go through teleportation?
Doctors can’t cure my dying neurotransmissions,
Leaving me forever with derision & indecision…
Am I too soft, believing in nonaggression?
I’m full of fear and misapprehension,
I’d love to free myself of my mental tension…
Is the answer to commit self-decommission?
Do I need some physiological remission?

Can’t go on like this; I must make a decision…
I can’t cope with mental corrosion, confusion,
Be positive, become more Sherlock Holmesian,
Drugs, are they the answer, but I’ve an aversion…
Maybe I’ll try some Columbian?
Do I even deserve help? Or vilification?

Evening All!

Inchcock Diary & Ode to Putin, Tuesday 7th June 2022

Tuesday 7th June 2022

07:30hrs: Woke wanting a wee-wee. I thought it would never come; it must have been 15hrs without one. It was hardly worth it, a painful sprinkle or two. At least the bladder is working again, so fingers crossed!

I set, too, giving myself a medical MOT. And taking ‘As needed’ non-prescription medications. There is no need for ointmentating this morning, No Little Inchies fungal lesion or Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding whatsoever! Excellent results on the blood pressure machine, best for ages!

The only thing not so good was the body temperature. That was way down low again. Been under the NHS’s recommended 35°c for a few days now. I don’t feel poorly; I am a lot chirpier in myself this morning. Although I felt so cold when it obviously isn’t?

I took some under-tongue CBS oil. And a Hemp capsule too.

Got the ears well saturated with the Olive oil. Let it sink in, and then I filled up the canals with more. This never seems to help, but I’ve got into the habit of doing it each morning now.

Then took a Dioctyl to help skid up the darned Porcelain Throne evacuations. Messy. Gooey, watery! Eurgh!

I got a few Warfarin tablets ready, so the carers will have some available for the evening doses.

Then, had a bash at syringing both ears. Not only a total waste of time; I failed to remove any wax at all, but I made such a mess I had

to clean up the water that had sprayed out off or missed the ears! Hehe!

Got the kettle on and sorted the laundry, not forgetting that talk-a-lot Esther would give me some hassle if it wasn’t ready and sorted when she arrived later this morning! Not that she scares me an anything like that, of course. Ahem!

I took this snap of the lovely morning sky with its ever-changing hues. Mother Nature, again shows us her beauty! The beauty we have been destroying for years.

Got the computer on and started on the WordPress reader and commenting, and the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chime brought forth Carer Richard. I thought the lad was late coming; he’s had extra calls on again and was in a rush because he had a four-hour training session later when he finishes work with the Diabetes team to get through. No time for any good natterings today again. I think he felt guilty about it, so I tried to cheer him up, wished him all the best, and gave him a bag of treats. Then, I walked (well, hobbled) with Richard to the lift lobby and wished him well for the meeting.

Took this photo of the car park in front of Woodthorpe Court from the kitchenette window. Made a brew of Glengettie tea and was about to return to the computer with the nug of tea – but circumstances changed…

As usual with Neuropathy Pete, his timing caused the optimum amount of pain and hassle. An involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance made me drop the cup as I grabbed Metal-Micky and the side of the sink to keep from going over. Once more, it was over in seconds, but I still managed to clout my knee on the edge of a floor cupboard. Which awakened Cartilage Cathy in agony! Humph!

Sorted myself out and took an extra Codeine. And fond this photo of a meal from which I can’t work out? It was not a good photo in any way, shape or form, so it might be one that I meant to delete from the file?

Started on the Snippets blog, and the Iceland delivery arrived. I let him in through the intercom box in the hallway, and I cleared a path to put the bags into.

The driver took the bags through to the kitchen for me. Gave him a choice of plonk cans in thanks. He opted, I noticed, for the Rum and coke. Hehe! Good for him; I hope it cheered him up a smidge.

They sent the Rustlers for Richard, sugar snap peas, mushrooms and some new Pork & Pickle Bites. Three for a fiver, so they must be good. One for Josie, one for Richard and one for Esther. I got some small apples that, hopefully, my lesser-teethed mouth can manage to eat. Har-har! They had no small vine tomatoes in stock but have sent me a pack of large tomatoes, Dutch, that had a sell-by date for today. No charge!

The best thing they had sent was the No-Moo ice creams and No-Bull burgers. The best of any burgers I have tried! The ice cream is by far superior in taste to what one might call natural ice cream. Grrreat Flavour both! I’d have ordered more, but I dared not with Iceland’s record of crap unrelated substitutions!

I had another go at getting the Snippet Ode done. (I did get it finished, but not until I’d been grafting on it, on & off, for another nine hours!) Esther arrived and came talkingly into the room. She still wasn’t near enough for me to hear her, and I feared that she may have something vital as she went into the hall, front, and living rooms.

It’s not so bad when she’s face to face and not shouting at me rather than talking to me. Esther, bless her, has a habit of talking and carrying on. Esther keeps talking to me from the rear of my ear lobes as she turns away… the peace and quiet are nice. But there is always danger in this… She has a great memory and thinks because she’s told me something, I must have heard it and will remember it. (Both are impossible in my condition, Haha!)

Then, a week later, I get an ear-bashing from about 4 inches distance and am informed that “I told you that last week!” telling offs. Luckily I can rest assured that Esther will nip off into the other room to have a nosey around my boxes and occasionally iron a shirt… but talking to me all the time from the other room… still, I knew what to expect. Hehe! Obviously, I had forgotten something or not heard it. I’m glad I got the pork & pickle thingamabobs for her now. Giving her then assuaged her aggression. I joke, of course… Erm? She’s an angel, really.

I got the ready meal into the oven and had roughly 40 minutes before it was cooked. I must not fall asleep!

Back to doing the blog, I trudged. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ rang out, and I wearily (Mentally) went to the door. It was Josie, returning the tray and things for me from the Sunday meal. Bless her cotton socks; she enthused over the taste of this Sunday’s chilli stew! That cheered me up a bit! She even asked if I used to be a chef? Oh dearie me! My EQ was nervous at this. Naturally, I had no idea why at the time. A feeling of foreboding matured…

I got on with the Snippet blogging again! So deep in concentration… still making errors after cock-ups, though. Then it dawned on me that the food was in the oven!!!

Grade A: It looked like this after I’d burnt my fingers getting the tray out of the oven post haste! Not good, is it? But I was so tired and weary that I still used it and made a meal of sorts out of it.

I added some BBQ sauce to the tray. Got some slices of Milk Roll bread, tomatoes and sugar snap peas onto the tray.

I was part mad at myself, well darned annoyed with myself, and so tired and drained, I didn’t get too agitated. Yet I still laughed at myself as I tried to dismantle the encrusted burnt meal to get at some edible bits of food. It helped in having some bread and sauce to soak some resuscitated bits to eat.

By the time I’d finished burnt food mining, which was tasty, believe it or not, bits of burnt food had been scattered far and wide on my stomach folds, down the pants, on the tray, and on the floor and recliner cushion. The carpet took on a new design; there were many black, ash-like bits of residue on it. I faced a long task in getting things sorted… and the kitchen and oven needed cleaning attention as well.

I was all in by the time I got things semi-put right. I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea and ate a huge bowl full of veggie ice cream! I finished it and lay there as I dropped off to sleep – it was so good that I think I dreamed of sleeping…

♫Oh, Susana♫ Chimed out, and Carer Valerie came in. I’d been up and about for around 12 hours by then, and waking up after five minutes of sleeping was not what I wanted… Hehehe! I remembered to give Valerie her Pork & Pickle whatsits, though.

I felt awful but could not resist the urge to finish the blog. The internet went down… now I was getting annoyed!

I pressed on and got the Snippets blog finished at long last. It stayed that way; it was now gone midnight! I realised then that I had not done the ablutions today!

Humph!

ODE TO PUTIN

Is it true that hopes and expectancies are always there?
Putin’s are conspicuous, World Domination, I fear…
He’s somewhat of a Worldwide parcel courier?
Soon, bigger, dirtier packages will be sent, and nuclear…
Where will the scumball strike next? Europe and Asia, it’s unclear…
Anywhere, somewhere, possibly a country that’s weaker?

Is it true that he wears a lemon and pink brassier?
Shags Igor Sechin, his First Deputy Prime Minister?
He laughs at citizens dead or gathered for warmth around a brazier,
The man could not be any more selfish and crazier!

I insult the shithead cause there’s nothing else I can do…
But I would, if I could, send him a can of poisoned Irish stew,
I wonder if he likes it from his minions in his rear?
He’d like to make his competition dead or disappear?
What competition? He’s got more weapons & forces than we do…
He’s more soldiers in Moscow’s Red Square!

We cannot afford to send troops there…
We’ve not got enough, nor has anyone else, to be fair…
I wish we could send him Tony Blair…
Notice he’s not volunteered to do any damage repair?
Putin offers and hopes only for death and despair…
To the rest of the world, we can only die or forebear…
Unless you bribe him if you’re a financier?
Then he just might take a fancy to yer?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock: Thurs-Fri 2-3rd June 2022

Manic Morning Ode

I think of odd things, many sorts, some ulteriorly…
Some thoughts are of electrical technicality…
The TV stopped working, the DVD too…
The computer does its own thing, getting me into a stew,
The help pamphlet is all written metrically,
But I was educated in inches and things imperially!

I write thoughts in an ode, mostly inferiorly…
Cause my sleeping is now all somnambulistically,
I went to the Porcelain Throne, and it came out like gooey glue!
Concentration is hard, lack of kip I rue…
But making these crap odes, I still pursue,
I don’t think I love owt else I do…

But dreams and hopes, I had a few…
Into the ether, they all got threw,
Oh, dearie me, Throne time again, stinkaroo!
What does the future hold? Do I want a preview?
Whatever, if any, will not hold any bijou…
I know! I’ll give myself a sanity interview?

Thursday 2nd June 2022

From my scribbled notes: 30% of which I couldn’t decipher or guesstimated.

04:40hrs: I gave up trying to stay asleep; the jumping awakes were endless again! Rose for a wee-wee. (Unreadable) Something to do with the Canon camera?

Put the kettle on, made a brew of JS Extra-Strong Brown Label tea, and tried to sort out the Canon camera’s problem. Gave up and went to make another brew. This time, using the rather delightful full-bodied Thompsons Signature tea.

Very tasty! Took a photo from the kitchen window, through the glass.

Took another photo of the view using the flash. I can’t remember why; maybe I could have been testing to see if the flash worked? I’ve still not remembered what the original fault was? I used the Fuji after this. So whatever it was (I’ll remember soon) had not been righted or mended yet. (I’m assuming here?)

The Boot’s Chinese made Blood Pressure machine’s sphygmomanometerisationing gave me a bit of a shock this morning! I checked on the NHS DVT site. SYS 174, DIA 67 and Pulse of 88.

Ah, well. I got the body temperature done. It’s a little low again, but it has been for weeks now; I don’t feel any worse for it… I’ve got the eyes, Doreen Dementia etc., to worry me more. It’ll be back down tomorrow, I expect.

A lot of squashed up scribbling on the notepad here. Tea, view (but I can’t find any photos of it?). Bogging, hard work, errors, mistakes… Finished blog, sent off, emailed link, Pinterested and Facebooking.

Window cleaning Joe arrived. Nice chap. He lets me waffle on without looking too bored at me. A good quality that is on a man. There is some more undecipherable squiggling here… no, I can’t make it out.

Ah, this I can… the swine!

It’s an exciting bit of writing here… Best I can make out; what it says is: Blu snaps Herb? WP Reader…

Ah, that’ll be Herbert, the contemptuous, hoity-toity, holier-than-thou, can’t-do-wrong chap living above me making noise again.

The tootsies and toes looked a smidge bedraggled when I came out of the wet room. It had not gone all that well in the ablutionary session either.

When I took a wee-wee, the product escaped in trickles, yet the after dribble lasted three times as long as the main event did! Then came a cropper on the trolley wheel… I’ve not done yet… Little Inchies had to be cleaned again and medicationalised… which means. Then as I was leaving through the door, there were no injuries this time. In fact, I went into a scenario! The lesion and toe were enough for me to cope with anyway.

Took a snap of RVD’s (Red Van Man’s) parking in the end car park. Someone had beaten him to his favourite, ‘I’m not bothered’, illegal no parking chevron spot.

Hehehe! I felt a little sorry for him, really.

I got the nosh sorted out and served up. I enjoyed it but fell asleep eating it, woke up, and finished off the cold meal without any bother or interest. I just accepted that Dementia Doreen will be with me forever now. Not a pleasant thought.

Carer Lisa arrived as I was about to take the tray through to get the things washed up. Nibbles and plonk offered in thanks. Nice gal.

I came over, all accepting again. There is nowt that can be done about Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ve accepted that from the off. But Doreen’s Dementia is the one ailment that’s getting to me. I leave taps running, cooking on and in, the stove… and I honestly can’t tell you what day or year it is… Yes, I can. (Just looked at the computer! A depression with a difference suddenly tonight. A smidge of morbidity with it… no, no, that’s not the right word… erm… a type of self-declaration, come of affirmation of any ability or interest from anyone, in trying to help me out. My mind is crumbling… well, the body is not doing much better. Hehe! Yet I accept the situation because, as I see it, there really is nothing to be done to help with the Dementia or dying peripheral neurotransmitter battles. I hope to live and love it long enough to get the teeth, eyes, and hearing treated.

I sat there for a couple of hours in utter silence – Yes! The Thought-Storms had abandoned me for the first time in months. Actually, this bothered me a bit! I was saved by the World-Wide-Hum, and both started being noisy in the extreme… but I think I welcomed it. I managed as blank a mind as must be possible. Still, the overriding view of acceptance, nothing to be done, lingered... I noted the time, 21:00hrs, as I tried to get some shut-eye. At 21:03hrs, the Thought Storms with apparently recharged batteries kicked off!

Sweet Morpheus didn’t stand a chance. I lay there fighting, talking to, and cursing the self-nit-picking, derogatory Thought Storms. Never had them as bad, and in the end, I got up around three o’clock for a most unwilling wee-wee, and again I suffered from the. Now I was feeling somewhat fed up in the extreme! So, I went through to put the kettle on… Continued below!

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

Friday 3rd June 2022

As if I wasn’t in a self-hating depressive, elegiacal, had-enough mood already: I got in the kitchen and realised I’d left the hot water tap running! Naturally, the water was stone cold. But it got worse!

I spotted that I’d also left the fridge door open! Self-denigration and a sense of fear or apprehension came over me. Which I was almost wallowing in? When the bowels demanded that I visit the wet room.

This case is entirely different to yesterday’s evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge. Gooey, messy… and it took me ages to get things cleaned up. I must have dropped or knocked over the walking stick four times, yet my self-anger calmed down! I developed a new to me outlook! A semi, but weak determination not to let things get to me. Because things will not get any better, I can try to alter my responses? It’s not doing me any good getting all het-up! I tried to find last night’s ‘Acceptance Mode’, and sure enough, things calmed down.

I remembered the high BP of Thursday and went to finally make a brew of Thompsons’ Punjana, relaxed as much as I could, and got the sphygmomanometer going. And sure enough, the BP was lower. SYS 147 (from 174), DIA 70 (67), and Pulse at 81 (88). According to the NHS, today’s reading is acceptable; 60-85 bpm is suggested. According to my Chinese Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co, the body temperature. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, was 33.6°c, up a bit.

The feet still looked and felt a little sore.
But have often hurt me much more,
I must stop moaning anymore.
I can’t put it any blunter,
Accept things, as said thereinbefore
It’s the only way to perdure!

I spent many hours on the computer, updating blogs, correcting cock-ups, and eventually getting the blog done and posted. Then, Pinteresting, WP reading, and WordPress Comment making.

T’was an unexpected pleasure to see that Carer Richard called this morning. He didn’t have time for a good chinwag as he had another call to do, bless him. He listened to my tales a while, I offered nibble and drinkies of his choice, and off he went, we exchanged all-the-bests.

Back to the computer, but Mr Fries, the $23million a year salaried leader of shit Liberty-Global, let me down yet again. This week, about 12 times, the overpaid, number-juggler & cruncher has proved his inability to get a Virgin Media internet signal to stay on in Nottingham. Please don’t think this has created jealousy and hatred for the scum-bucket. Oh, no!

When Mr Fries managed to get a signal back, I spent many hours doing the top Ode for this blog and updating it. I was doing well… until…

The smoke & mirrors man, the fiddler of figures, and incapable of running an internet service without losing the signal, Mr Fries, the Mafia looking character, fails again! Humph!

While waiting on Mr Fries to get his minions to resupply Winwood Heights with his unreliable, pathetic, crap, overcharging, customer-hating enslaved people to get the signal back. I took a few photographs. Mayhaps I should send this to Mr Fries, so he knows where he is not sending, but overcharging for it, internet supply?

So, I took more photographs while waiting for Fries, the £23m salaried boss, to get the Liberty-Global signal again.

Only one vehicle was parked, snuggly on the no-parking yellow chevrons at the end of the car park on Chestnut Way. Only one vehicle in, RVD (Red-Van-Man).

The front car park opposite my beloved Woodthorpe Court.

The car park faces Winwood and Winchester Courts.

Hello, he’s off again. Clunk, clatter! Back to the photographicalisationing…

Then, a photo of the beautiful clouds in the sky.

Not many folks out there; I suppose they are watching the ER celebrations for the Queens?

The Queen was praised for “staying the course” as royals joined dignitaries at a thanksgiving service for the Platinum Jubilee at St Paul’s Cathedral. Referring to her love of horse racing, Archbishop of York Stephen Cottrell said she is “still in the saddle”, even though she could not attend. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex joined for their first royal event together since leaving the UK two years ago. Meanwhile, the Queen, 96, watched the service from Windsor Castle.

Well, the Royal Family members all look happy, don’t they? Charles has waiting so long to get the Throne I don’t think he’s up to it anymore. Hehehe!

I got some spuds boiling to make cheesy mash with.

Well done, Mr Fries! The internet’s back on again. Touch of well-deserved Sarcasm there…