Inchcock, Nottinghams Neanderthal – Saturday 19 Dec 20:

♥ Hello, who’s that at Jillie’s window? ♥

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Saturday 19th December 2020

Italiano: Domenica 19 Dicembre 2020

23:30hrs: After three hours of bliss, the bladder and bowels woke me with the message that both are in urgent need of being emptied!

I rather hurried the usual battle to get my spare tyred bread basket and body, free of the battered, none-working recliner. Caught my balance, grabbed metal-Micky, and off to the wet room!

Although in such a rush, I couldn’t help but note how noisy the World Wide Hum was this morning.

I got in and sat down, the wee-wee flowed, but the rear-end evacuation, for the fourth time on the trot (It fitted that word did, haha!), was disinclined and uneager to start moving. Out came the crossword book, I took the top photo as I picked it up, and the bottom shot, as things started to activate. Note all the answers I got in? A sign of how long I was sat-sitting there waiting for the movement to begin! I must tell the nurse about this!

It was an unbroken flow this time, no stopping and restarting, the massive torpedo somehow got most of itself under the water. I feared this would need a few refills of the tank to clear away, yet it disappeared in one flush? A smidge messy despite its size, and the bleeding was of concern, I sensed hearing cries from poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids squealing in pain! A good clean up and some gentle medicating were called for, talk about tender!

On the plus side, the newly cut toenailed feet, had got me about with much less hassle and pain… so far. Which reminded me to have a look at the appointment card that the attractive chiropodist gave me, at the hairdressing salon yesterday, but could I find it? No! I search through my pockets of the clothes I had on at the appointment, shelves, back and checked in the kitchen, the hallway, the three-wheeled walker bag and the carriers hanging from it, the kitchen. But no luck. Ah, I did ask Deana to send me an email to remind me, I think she did that while I was there, that’ll have the details on there later. I do feel a fool!

I consecrated… or even concentrated, (Tsk!), on getting the Friday blog done, it’s getting on now, I do not want any of my mass of fans, admirers and followers to miss this Inchcock Diary. They’d be devastated, both of them. Haha!

I got it done in the end, twas a long slog. Sent it off, then the email link. Went on Facebook catch-up. Then the WordPress comment answering, sone witty stuff on there today.

Realising I had not done the Health Checks yet, I did them. Starting with the Chinese made Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer. I like this one, it’s so easy to use! The reading was another good one, then, with some trepidation, on to the sphygmomanometerisationing.

Oh, dearie me! The Chinese made Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, to find that the SYS was still way too high, showing 167. The Dia and Pulse were okay, though!

I went to take the medications, and yet again, I had not taken the evening ones! So I did! I’ll take the A.M. ones later on. It’s getting far too often that I miss these. What a pathetic, losing-it, thicko, and cogency-challenged old twit I am! I notice these things you know – but seem incapable of improving my condition.

There was a noise, like rushing water, followed by a short chugging sound? I’d no idea where it came from, but got my Sherlock Holmesian hat on, and went to have a look around, and searched every room in the apartment (All 3 of them!) Nowt found! While I was meandering around pretending I knew what I was doing, the blasted ‘Hum’ now got louder than ever!

Being the ditherer that I am, I got sidetracked and took some pictures from the kitchen window of the morning view. And made a brew of Glengettie tea.

The shakes were noticeable by there absence, and very pleased I was too!

Back to the computer again. After a few hours spent beginning this blog, the taste-buds craved another brew. (Not many wee-wees needed, by the way)

I decided to take the much belated morning medications. And had a good guzzle of the cringingly bitter Docustate medicine, and a Dioctyl® capsule as well. I’ll do my bestest to get the evacuations moving again, somehow. Or not. Hahaha!

I went to open the curtains, and spotted the appointment cards I’d been searching for earlier! Wot a plonka!

The cunning cards had hidden in plain view, on the TV stand in the plastic pen/pencil tray, on top of the DVD player, next to the Alarm Alert box right in front of the television. Even I could not understand how I missed them earlier! It may be all part of the losing-it with age, process? Or perhaps, the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court; the phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, demons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, aliens, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, gremlins or Spirits of the dead might be to blame? ( A few terminological inexactitudes sneaked in there, sorry about that!)

I gave up trying to find the source of the noise, and returned to the computer, and updating this post. The noise still bugged me. I went into the wet room again, praying that on pipes had burst and now flowing out water – All calm on the Western Waterworks front, Phew! 

I had a look at the ankle ulcer, no wonder it felt so much easier, it had all but disappeared!

Will it return? It doesn’t look likely at the moment. I was well chuffed! Of course, I did not go into anything like a Smug Mode, too risky!

Jenny phoned, bless her cotton socks, asking if I wanted a Christmas Dinner doing. I thanked her for the wonderful kind thought, but there are so many things I’d love to have had, like sprouts, Cranberries, cherries, Sweetcorn, and brassica that I am not allowed to eat nowadays. An amazing woman! She asked if I’d like some minced beef getting on her Tesco order, and I took her up on it, thanking her muchly. ♥

I had the first Dizzy Dennis spell of the day when I was going to get the ablutions done. It got worse, the worst it’s ever been, I decided to abandon the abluting, and get something to eat while I could. Luckily the mince from yesterday is I the saucepan, all I have to do is make chips and warm the saucepan, not that I felt hungry this early. Still, I think things might get worserer before better, the head is spinning, and my concentration is shot to pieces, all in a few minutes. If I can get something to eat, I’m going to get my head down and rest or even sleep if I can. I’m feeling weird and unwell. Feeling terrible. Hopefully, I can add to this in this, if anything happens, to this diary in the morning, or hopefully later tonight.

Inchcocks Escape to town No.5 – Wed 16th Dec 20: Oh, dearie me!

Out into the Drizzle

I arrived in town with aches and pains from the bus trip, I was already sorry I’d escaped! The bus ride was a battle between me keeping the trolley-guide from running away every time we took a corner, jammed the anchors on, went downhill, and my falling out of the seat! Harolds Haemorrhoids were stinging! I called in the Wilko store to get some of the Laundry freshener, which I did. I came out, with three of the granules, chocolate brazils, peanuts and a bottle of disinfectant.

I left and hobbled to the Poundland Shop, where I got carried away and frustrated. They had no pies, Dettol or filled BLT sarnies. After a physical battle with other shoppers breathing down my neck cause I was not moving fast enough, people running in front of me in the queue, I paid with the card at the checkout for the: Toffiffee box, Frazzles, White waste bags, Perle De Perle lemon desserts, Ginsters pasties, Microfibre cleaning cloths, can of stewed steak, Oxo cubes, Mint and lemon disinfectant, (Good for the overnight emergency grey wee-wee bucket, you know!) and a packet of Senna tablets.

Out in the drizzle, passing all the jolly, happy, sociable, kind, understanding, smiling, sweet-natured Nottinghamians, merrily going about their shoplifting and pickpocketing activities. Avoiding the pavement cyclists was risky!

Along Upper Parliament Street, and down King Street towards the Market Square. The wind was getting up, I was struggling controlling the three-wheeler guide, and getting the odd shower from the buses as they pulled up from the puddles. The toenails joined the piles in giving me some tender stinging as I limped down the hill.

I stopped at the bottom of Long Row opposite the tree, and took the time to just glance around, (in my Sherlock Holmesian Mode, here!), to access the mood of the Nottingham plebeians. The masks were being worn by, I’d estimate, 60% of the Nottingham great unwashed, Students, muggers etc., but I got the view that the masses, were not too content with life, but, who can blame them?

I limped across the Slab Square. I’d decided to go to the other Poundland Store on Wheeler Gate, in search of some Dettol disinfectant, and BLT sarnies. A sense of doom and gloom came over me as I crossed over, starving pigeons came down to me when I stopped a moment to try and wriggle the keet to free the toenails that had got tangled in the sock. They must have thought I was going have summat to eat, and hoped a few crumbs would fall to the floor?

Long Row looked terribly sad. Temporary and permanently closed stores everywhere, a desperate pigeon seeking fodder of some sort, and few Nottinghamians about! I got in the Poundland and had another struggle to get around, the feet and toes were harrowing painful now. I cheered a smidge when I found some Dettol lavender disinfectant on sale and got three bottles. As I meandered about I added, two part-baked baguettes, pork pie, a BLT sarnie, The wobbles came on when I got to the self-serve tills, I was embarrassed and in a pickle.

A young lady helped me out and picked up the dropped items and out them through for me. She was busy and kept nipping off to help others, and I started to all out of the shop with the trolley and bags hanging all over it, and the girl chased after me… I had not paid! Red-faced (it probably showed through the face-mask!) I returned and used the card…

Oh, heck! The machine would not take the card! I went into Panic-Mode. The young lady tried to calm me down, but all sorts of things were going through my mind, embarrassment being the biggest! I fumble around and found enough cash to pay, the lady was very calm about it. I thanked her and dug out a can from the trolley, of Vodka mix and gave it to her. When I got outside, I calmed down a bit, as I realised I’d used the card earlier at the other store, so the bak might have been being cautious, in case the card had been stolen and used?

I got to the slab square and noticed the large number of crows that were about. Someone had dropped some crumbs whatever, and the crows dived down attacking the pigeons? I had a good while before the bus was due, so I walked around the Council House and back along Long Row on the other side, to King Street. 

The Primark Store had bouncers and staff controlling the shoplifting customers as they queued up to do some pilfering. I don’t know how the stop stays in business. I rarely go in nowadays, its a large store with escalators and stairs, so I can’t go shopping there anymore anyway. But the times in the past I’ve seen kleptomaniacs and pickpockets at work when I did shop there, was phenomenal.

As I turned up King Street to go to the bus stop, the PAvement Cyclist git it blue, came withing inched of hitting me, and seemed totally unaware of it. I hoped my taking this photo might trigger him to ask me why I was photographing him, as he chatted to a fellow food deliverer. Then I could have told him! But, no!

The three Christian singers were out again further up the road, near the Brian Clough statue, its called speakers corner. They or one or more of them are regular attenders. The chap on the right with the guitar started this singing to the Lord off first. I’ve never seen him in long trousers, whatever the weather is like?

I got up to the bus stop and took this snap as I arrived there, it is sadly, indicative of the mood of the City Centre today. Drab! I caught a number 40 bus back home, glad I did, it is much quicker than the L9.

I was tired, in pain, mangled toenails, Duodenal Donald starting to kick-off, depressed, embarrassed, and oh, so keen and ready for fodder and sleep!

Inchcockski – Tuesday 27th October 2020: An angst-making day, and sleepless night – Humph!

♫ How do you solve a problem like Marie…? ♫

Tuesday 27th October 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Október 28, Kedd


00:45hrs: I awoke to the welcoming stings of the new rear-end furuncle, which was closely matched by Harold’s Haemorrhoids smarting away. “I thought, well, another good day on the way!” Hehehe! 

The regulation need for a wee-wee arrived, and I removed the mountainously-bellied body, with the thin dangly legs and arms, out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, rusty, not working, obnoxiously beige-coloured recliner, caught my balance (very smoothly this morning!) So, I left Metal-Mickey (the four-pronged walking stick) behind, and cautiously poddled to the wet room.

Again, not a productive visit at all, barely a few seconds of a weak unwilling, dribble. Tsk! Then the nose started to bleed?

Still, it gave me a chance to clean and medicate the poor old furuncle and the piles, and have a look at the bruising from the door shoulder-charging and sliding down of bruise. No pain, even when I pressed the Phorpain gel in it, and it was clearing up so fast. Great!

As I set about doing the Health Checks, I had to stop myself from using the Enoxparin hypo, that is no longer needed, now the INR level had gone up to 2.0, although the target is 3.2. I have a feeling the injections will be required again after next Monday’s blood results come in. The contactless thermometer read a healthy 3.38°c.

The BP machine results showed the SYS at 164, a smidge high, methinks, but it has often been a lot higher over the last few weeks or so. I took the morning medications with spring water.

I noticed the moon was showing through the clouds. (I can be quick like that, sometimes, I spotted the moon was out on Tuesday 28th, 1956, you know. Hehehe!) I took a few photographs to try and get a decent one; these were the only two that were so-so!

Then, got the computer on. Uploaded pictures from the camera onto CorelDraw to resize and sort them, and get them onto the WordPress gallery.

As I stood up to go for another wee-wee, Peripheral Pete’s right leg offered forth the usual warning signs of an involuntary dancing session was about to start, so I took and kept Metal Mickey with me from then on. To the wet room and just as yesterday, the second visit was a marathon?

I made the first mug of the day, of Thompsons Punjana tea, I had thought of having a drink of the decaffeinated rubbish tasteless, weak tea, but the thought of it almost made me puke. Then, I made a start on this blog up to here and then began to update yesterday’s post.

T’was a long slog, not that any of the ailments bothered or hindered me much, I was having difficulty in concentrating. Mind you, getting up for a few wee-wees, set Furuncle Fred of, of course, painful!

Getting the Dioctyl™ capsules to take, I spotted the rain was drizzling down, a little mist seemed to be spreading all around the flats, and I had an unintended little Phlutt! It escaped from the rear-quarters; two things worthy of mentioning about this enforced activity; One, the horrible stink, followed seconds later by a fair-share of agony from Furuncle-Fred! Life can hold surprises of the most unexpected types!

I pressed on and got the updating finished, and the blog posted to WordPress. Had some brekkers, well, a packet of Quavers, and two mini-jam rolls. And felt that either Furuncle-Fred or Harolds Haemorrhoids were bleeding, that wet warm feeling, you know. Well, maybe you didn’t, but you do now. Hahaha!

I decided to get the ablutions done, and then I can investigate the medical problems properly afterwards. Off to the wet room, and what a long session, it turned out to be!

ABLUTIONALISATIONING INCIDENT REPORT

  • Before I even got the teeth cleaning started, I had to dive for the Porcelain Throne. Which was brilliant, cause I was only two paces (or five of my limps), to reach in, and did so in time!
  • A right time-consuming job to clean up afterwards; Messy, a lot of it, khaki in colour, and it left a hell of a stink behind it! 
  • Got things sorted, but it needed two fillings of the tank before the items were flushed-away on the third try. Tsk!
  • Got teggies done without a single bit of bother, and just two dropsies! Oh, yes!
  • Now hear this! Now hear this! The shaving went with only the one dropsy – and no, I say No, nicks or cuts at all! I couldn’t believe it, and I was there! A Super-Duper-Smug-Mode engaged!
  • The medicationalisationing wasn’t so lucky, or pain-free, though. I checked out, as best I could, the rear end bleeding problems. It was I think, just Harold Haemorrhoids that were bleeding, but the boil was the more tender problem. Getting the two creams needed on without mixing
  • I took two snaps of the Enoxaparin injection blotches. Left and right side of the bulbous, flabby, massive, wobbly belly. A terrible sight!

It was raining heavier now; the Sainsbury driver is going to get wet. He arrived moments later. As Victor Meldrew used to say… “I Can’t Believe it!”

As the chap put the things into the box for me; he flattened my cream cakes, the not properly frozen cornets ran all over the other stuff, a bottle of toilet cleaner leaked and wen onto the yoghourts… I got the things through to the kitchen to salvage and sort out!

I found the tomatoes had been squashed, I threw away the toilet cleaner and yoghourts, some bleach had gone on the cans of chilli as well, but that didn’t matter, apart from my having to spend so long sorting them out! Grrr! I was growing angrier and angrier! Especially as I’d given the driver a can of plonk and thanked him nicely!

Then I found the substitutes: Marmite Cheese Bites – None – Subbed: Cheese minis light?

Carnation extra thick cream – Subbed Carnation evaporated milk!

Caramelised onion & Balsamic vegetable and nibbles, five x20g – Subbed 1x100g onion and vinegar rice chips.

Pedal bin liners 30ltr – Subbed Recycled 40ltr Pedal bin liners.

I truly hope this bit of Whooppsiedangleplopping from Sainsbury’s, will put-off, deter any idiot who is thinking of using Sainsbury’s ‘Sod the customer!’ service in the future. 

To add insult to it injury: They say, “IF your substitute is more expensive, AND is covered by out Substitution Promise, we’ll give you a voucher for the difference to use on your next online grocery order! Well, that’s as plain as mud for me! With such disastrous substitutions and all the damaged, and soaking wet goods delivered, they have the gall to think and suppose that I will be using them again to get a few pennies back? Ha!

There, I feel a little less irked now I’ve gotten rid of that verbiage drivel! Swine! I felt treated like shit, didn’t think I had the hatred left in me? Likely the Enoxaparin encouraged my venom for Sainsbury’s?

I checked on the now gathered together in the saucepan Chill-Con-Carne, with added tomatoes, Thanks Jenny!, onions, a little extra gravy, and a cup of tomato & basil stock. I’m getting into this experimenting nowadays with the ‘Chilli’ meals’.

I now have a decent stock of the canned chillies, which are not as interesting as the homemade ones, but save tons of time, and are okay with some added prefered flavourings. I may try some leeks to add when I can get some.

Note the can on top of the pile of different brands? That is chilli with wedges. I found it at the back of the cupboard, and the use-by-date is only a few days from terminating. Hehe! So, it looks like that’ll have to be used next.

The Hubbards ((Unfortunately a Sainsbury generic label) are the mildest, perhaps my favourite. The Morrisons Saver ones are a little stronger, and more in the tin, too. The Princes, I have not tested yet. No doubt about it, the expensive one with the potato wedges is far the strongest flavour. There can’t be too much chilli in the can, with chips in there too?

I’ll make another brew; the last one was what I had delivered from Sainsbury’s, Yorkshire Decaffeinated. They delivered that undamaged and dry (See it can be done!) It was horrible but not as bad as the own-label one I bought earlier!

So, credit where it’s due!

Got five waste bags to the bin. Then called Jenny to advise her I was coming down with some ‘bits’ for her, to make use of, from the appallingly shoddy, damaged Sainsbury order (I hope I can get over this annoying sense that I’ve been mistreated by Sainsbury’s). I know Jenny will make proper use of them. She helps others out a lot and knows the deserving cases. I slipped some plonk in with the other things, as a treat for Jen, Doris and Frank. I got down alright in the lift, dropped the carrier outside the apartment door, and back to the elevator to get back up…

It was very surreal (I think that’s the word), trying to get the lift, several times it passed me on its way down, then came up to the 13th floor, and had folks in it when it got to me, no room, let it go. It came up again to the 13th floor, then the 15th, and down to me at the 9th, as the doors opened, I was glad they did, because I was starting to worry about the pan of chilli I’d left on low on the stove.

The cage came down, and I pressed the 12th-floor button – but it went down to the 4th floor, picked a lady up, who went down with me to the ground floor. The 12th storey light was still lit, and eventually, I got up to my floor and into the flat.

Checked the chilli, congealed now at the bottom of the pan, as I anticipated, so I gave it a good stirring with the wooden spoon, to break it up a bit, then made up and added some more gravy to it, agitated it well, and passed wind.

Then the chimes of Dusty Springfield’s ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the doorbells. Josie returned her Sunday lunch things. She told me she had enjoyed the nosh, and loved the extra-cheesy, buttered mashed potatoes on her plate last Sunday, which pleased me, hearing that. It makes the time and effort all so worthwhile.

I got the meal in the dish on the tray and added the resurrected, reformed, cream cakes, so kindly crushed for me by Sainsbury’s… I really must try to get this maltreatment of Sainsbury’s out of my mind!

I consumed it with relish. It was not all that tasty with my having to add some gravy to it when it coagulated while I was playing in the lifts trying to get back to the flat, Hehehe! But it enjoyable enough, a flavour rating of 7/10, all the same.

I got the saucepan and dishes soaking in the sink, and I may have to try dynamite and the angle-grinder to free up the inner-coated saucepan, later. Hehe!

I took the medications, got washed, medicationalised various parts of the body in need of the same, the jammie-bottoms on, and climbed into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Within minutes I’d nodded-off, into a deep sleep and was dreaming of something or other…

And the landline burst forth and flashed! Boy, did I not want to answer it! Why does this happen so often? Have the famous Woodthorpe Court, ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, and Karakia-cursing entities, no compassion at all! Argh! It was the Doctors surgery receptionist, checking that I’d received the updated dosages for the Warfarin. “Yes, thank you”, I replied. Rang-off, and tried to get back to sleep – a futile idea!

Inchcock (In Briefly) – Friday 23rd October 2020: As a defeated-fantasist, I’m losing all hope of anything ever going right again, here!

TFZers Gather at the Cabin! ♥

Friday 23rd October 2020

Welsh: Dydd Gwener 23 Hydref 2020

02:35hrs: A rather abrupt diary today, folks. Medical issues have got be all behind, frustrated, irked and most irritable with life. But there you go!

 After a wee-wee, it was time to sort out the medicationalisticalisationing things to get the Health Checks, medications taken, and Enoxaparin injection is done.

I’d made a cock-up with counting the Sodium needles, so will need to talk to Warden Dean later, to see if she can ring the Doctors and Chemist for me. (to see if the prescriptions have gone out, and the chemist can deliver them for me)

Just getting the injections done, there were two this morning 2x40ml, was a mammoth job. I tried different ways to avoid any accidents in the event of Nicodemus, Shuddering Shoulder-Shirley, or Peripheral Pete’s right leg dancing kicked-off, while I was injecting. I’m sure I had an idea to try something last night, but it’s gone now. Tsk! It all went fine, though. I reckon that yesterday’s pain was cause I was doing it to straight and going in too far. Lesson learnt! The old Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer machine worked perfectly. But the results were far from good. Tsk!

I like the new thermometer. I set it about four-inched from the forehead, and the reading was okay, but yet again I forgot to get the camera ready and had to do it again when it turned of rather quickly and caught me out. A lot of things do that! Hehe!

I got the Nikon camera to take a photograph of the morning view from the finger-trapping, light and view-blocking, rain letting in, deadly for old folks to get at to clean, new kitchen windows.

Got on the computer and had an awful lot of photos to sort out first before I could use them. And between SSS and Nicodemus, along with the worst ever service from Fries Liberty-Global internet crap service, without going down, mind, it took me hours to get the job done.

I was getting all het-up, bothered and angry!

The time was flying by, and it was time for the Ablutions to be done. Everything was taking ages to get done, corrected, and one again. And no calls to the Throne either!

I got the Ablutions tended to, a painful, frustrating task, that left me with a stubbed toe, three shaving cuts, a multitude of dropsies done, and banging myself against the shower chair afterwards, meant Little Inchies fungal lesion started to bleed! Grrr! But at least the ankle ulcer looked such a lot betterer.

The medicating was messy and painful, and I then had to get dressed so I could go out to speak with Warden Deana and got a second stubbed toe as I lost my balance getting the shoes on. Greggleckle! 

I got the waste bags made up and into the trolley, and a coat and hat on, out to the waste-chute, then down on the lift to the caretaker bins. No one around at all to natter to, or even give a good-morning to. I dropped the recycling bag off, and put the empty jars in the Green Glass bin, and walked to the Wardens holding-cell office.

Deana was out working, so I explained the worries over the medications and prescriptions to Julie. It took a while, and the day was shooting by me. I left and took these photos from the foyer in Winwood Court as I got out, then started a hobble back top Woodthorpe Court; but I didn’t get far. I remembered that I’d not left the WC signs, asking people not to put anything down them, other than TP. (The signs were delivered damaged yesterday afternoon by the Post Office, eight days late!)

So, I went back to Winwood Court. And Deana was back from her visits. Lost more time explaining again, and DEan kindly rang the Doctors for me and confirmed the prescriptions had been sent electronically to Carrington Pharmacy. She rang them, but there was no answer. Shell try again later, and let me know the outcome, Bless her. As in the pictures, I didn’t see a soul all the way back home. I was getting more uptight as the day went on.

When I finally got back in the flat, I still hadn’t got yesterdays blog done or sent off. But got the meal going first. I was so far behind now; I got the pictures taken while outside, done first on CorelDraw and put the in the WordPress gallery ready for later.

I took the medications and was about to make a start on finishing the Thursday post. When xyrophobia suffering, over-amour-propred Brother-in-law Pete, who, when searching the flat while I was in the hospital with the Stroke, and taking my valuables, he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electric and played with them. Now the recliner no longer works, rang. Bless him; he was concerned cause he’s not got the link via email for the blog.

We had a good natter, which cost me so much more time to get things done. But I really enjoyed the laughter. Bless, Pete as well!

Then the Porcelain Throne was needed, and it was more painful, nugget-mode, unbelievable the agony, and it was obvious, that Constipation Konrad was back in charge again. Kranklebudders!

Hours late, I got the blog finished off. Sent the link via email. Pinterested. Got the Facebook catch-up done. Started this blog. Too late to continue now, I was shattered mentally.

Went to check the meals progress and the sky suddenly became brighter, got the Nikon and took this photograph. A fascinating cornucopia of different types of clouds and colours combined to offer the opportunity to try and take a photographic gem. Bootiful! Can you see the head and face I spotted, in my tendency towards nephophilia, and apophenia? A fish, dog or a flying monster?

I got the evening tablets taken, and the meal served up. This chilli-con-carne came out a little hotter than the last one, so didn’t enjoy it as much as the te search of sleep.

Amazingly, I was off into the land of nod. But, within minutes… 

The danged Landline burst into life and woke me up! It might be the clinic about the Bowel Scan appointment? The DVT Warfarin about the Enoxaparin sodium injections, the Dentist.. no they wouldn’t ring this late. I’ll have to answer it, Thunderclaps! I’d hope they might ring off before I got to the line, but no. The PKCCP Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain in the right knee had never given me so much pain before, as I hobbled to answer the phone. All that unwanted effort and agony, and what happens? Whoever it was heard my voice and rang-off!

Worse still, could I get back to sleep again? No! Grobognangles! Grobbleknangles! Frangleklops! and Oy-yoy-yoy!

As for the knee’s cartilage pain… Argh!

Ah-well; here’s hoping for a better day tomorrow. (Not spoken as an optimist, more a defeatist fantasist!)

Inchcock – Saturday 17th October 2020: Unsettling, fraught, bewildering day, mind you, they all seem like this nowadays!

TFZer, Wowser!

Saturday 17th October 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Október 17, Szombat

01:35hrs: I was oh, so reluctant and against rising out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, unstable, pukingly-beige-coloured, most-uncomfortable, no-longer working, heavy yet tottery, rickety, rusty, rachitic, recliner. A stubborn dysania had me in its grip! A depressionalisticness hovered over me, and I couldn’t work out why? My EQ was telling me ‘You’ll just have to cope with it this morning, mate!’ My Thought-Storms were like bricolage, unstable, uncontrollable, not practical, bizarre!

  • As I was on the verge of accepting this insanity, the water-works began a little PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribbling), which the PP’s contained efficiently.
  • I was forced to alter my priorities, and hasten out of the chair, catch my balance, failed at this, and plopped back down in the recliner. Doing Harold’s Haemorrhoids no good at all!
  • This caused a little extra escapage from Little Inchy!
  • I determinedly rose again, and caught my balance, this time, grabbed Metal Micky, and stepped to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). Where the wee-wee, weakly sprayed all over the place, and it was the least I’d ever passed in my life, before it closed shut sharply, no after dribble? I’ve put more milk in a mug of teas, than what came out of my bladder! Must be the MacroBid® medication?

Off to the wet room to clean and freshen up, sanitised and disinfected the bucket, changed the PPs, sparingly used the Germoloid, and off to the kitchenette. The brain remained in a fog of sorts.

Another by-pass and change of plans, I had to go back to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne.

Aha! I think things in the Poo-Softening arena, are beginning to work at last! The Smug-Mode-Adoption was resisted – things go wrong too often for me lately!

The entire movement was quicker and smoother than in a long time. There was a bit of bleeding, but that I think, was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, so is to be expected. The cistern had to be refilled from the sink and used twice to get the evacuated product to disappear from view.

I got the inspiration from somewhere, to make a strong-minded effort to try and get some photographs of the morning view, that would be better than my recent efforts and tries!

I used the Kodak, and toyed around with different option, hoping for at least some degree of improvement.

Another failure! Gangleboggleisations!

I was most disappointed with the pictures that I’d taken. These three on the right, believe it or not, were the best of them! And why did the last one come out in a different shape? They were so poor. I’d lost my interest altogether now! Humph!

I got the BP sphygmomanometer from the drawer, only to find that the last reading showed up when I turned it on? With nit much to fiddle with, I determined that it was either knackered, or needed new batteries, so I replaced the old ones with Duracell newbies. I tried to use it again, the same thing, just the old figures appeared, no blank start-up screen. I wanted to cry, but didn’t bother! I’ll see what Amazon have on offer later. A bit annoying, cause now I cannot keep my recording record up to date for the nurse to collect each month.

Ah-well, I’ll get the Thermometer going. But No! That was not working either! I thought it would be fun to create the little expression that I sometimes use, in fact, it was Tim Price from New Mexico who gave me the idea: The mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and scare the pants off of the old energumenist, Inchcock’. But this morning, I’m beginning to believe it could be true! 

I toyed with the ear-thermometer, but it didn’t have it. So, I got the stick-thermometer out and used that.  It worked, and I took this photograph of the result.

Then, as I was about to put it back in medical drawer number three, where it is usually stored: Peripheral Pete, launched one of his involuntary, instant, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and I found myself doing some ballerina type dancing, as I fought not to go over, and lunged at the stove to steady my balance. At that second, I felt almost proud of myself for going over. The head swanked a bit sideways, and I think a smirk came across my face, as I realised this was only a short leg-dance, of a few seconds duration, and I had prevailed!

As soon as I’d caught my balance and turned back towards the stack of drawers… I felt it as I trod on the stick thermometer! Still not fully back to normal, I got the short picker-upperer to retrieve the obviously now bent, thermometer. I tried to straighten it up to try it out, to see if it was still working. Dead, deceased – not a cat-in-hells chance! Now I was on a downer of great proportions!

To add to this sudden nasty depression, I’ve got to get a new sphygmomanometer and thermometer! Frangleklops, Thunderglobberisations and Knackercraps! I was feeling morose, splenetic and crotchety! Worse than this, my EQ informed me that I had more let-down coming! I found I was monologuing with myself, Duodenal Donald started having a go at me, and hearing aid fell out?

But cunningly, it did not break, and it’s part of the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The ghosts, hobgoblins, boll-weevils, aliens, gremlins, grotesqueries, urchins, karakia-cursing entities, hallucinations. Materialisations, poltergeist, lemures, wairuas, kehuas, manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To destroy the sanity, and scare the hell out of Inchcock, thus assuring him a life of misery, worry and fear!’

Of course, it could be the Lord, making my life this unbearable unlucky hell, so that when the time comes for me to kick-the-bucket, I won’t mind so much? The day must be close then. That’s kind of him.

I took the much-belated medications and got on the computer to see what Amazon has on offer thermometers and hemadynamometers-wise at a bearable price.  First thing I found was an email, telling that the order, which was to have been arriving Wednesday, then Thursday, then Friday, then Saturday, is going to be late. Hahahaha!

I found some fancy medical gear and ordered it.

Of course, the ‘Arriving Tomorrow’ can be taken with a-pinch-of-salt.

I had a ‘Your Area’ email, with the latest Coronavirus locally.

I got the Friday post finished off and posted to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps. Replied to some comments. Went on the WordPress Reader section. And as I went on CorelDraw, three things dawned on me: 1) I had not been for a wee-wee for hours! 2) Herbert was not making much noise, and 3) I’d had much hassle, I’d not got the ablutions done yet! And it was gone midday!

I hobbled off to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana. I tried the Kodak for the last time, to take a photo of the clouds on view. It came to pout all wrong again, compared to how it looked to the eyes, but then again, it could be the eyes, not the lens at fault?

I tried the BP sphygmomanometer again, not that I expected anything to work – and sod-me, it did! And I’ve just ordered a new one! But, knowing my luck, I shall still get the Amazon one, you never know what the aliens and ghosts are up to and planning in these flats!

Made the brew, and did a template for tomorrow in advance. And about twelve emails all came in at once! One was about the late, late order from Amazon. So, five days late, a proper date received… We’ll see!

I’ll check it out now. Whoops, this is not the original order I thought, but the thermometer order. Int life, confusing?

Shattered mentally now, I’ll get the nosh sorted. I think I’d spent the last of my mental energy preparing this dish. My taste-buds seem to have dwindled, but it still got a Taste-Rating of 7/10.

I got the things from the meal to soak in the kitchen bowl. And went in search of sleep.

Two hours later; mostly of suffering irreverent Thought-Storms, I still awaited Sweet Morpheous.

What a day!

Inchcocks 6th Lockdown Escape – To the Pharmacy

Offlymuch I went, I did,
To fetch my Fenbid-40 & MacroBid,
And a tube of Fenbid,
Although it cost me my health and a few quid!

The road was blocked by traffic parked on the pavement,
But I didn’t relent,
A passing car missed me,
To the floor, I nearly went!
Down Winchester Street,
It was a brave feat,
The brakes don’t work…
I carried on, my mission to complete!
More trouble on Hood Street,
Blocked pavement again,
But I an not to be beat!
Went on the road again, such a pain!
Got on Mansfield Road near Rhodes,
But where were the folks?
No muggers, bikers or Schaghticokes,
I think I’ll buy some Artichokes!
I stopped to look down Hadyn Road for a while,
Little traffic, few people that made me smile,
I moved on after a while,
Realised I’d forgot to take my mobile!
Started up the hills,
To fetch my pills,
To cure my ills,
Up ahead, the cottages and vills!
Aha, a Pavement Cyclist was seen!
He scowled at me, he didn’t seem too keen,
On my putting him in my camera screen,
His face looked a little adamantean!
Over down the hill to Carrington,
A place of muggings, violent action,
Blimey, my poetry is terribly bad…
What’s your reaction?
Got near the Chemist shop, a little late,
The retailer shops looking in a bad state,
I wonder, what is their fate,
Bankruptcy, for you mate!
I entered the Chemist shop straight away,
No welcoming smile, did they display,
I wished I was far away,
I tried to look happy, appear to be gay,
My emotions were in disarray,
Got the tablets, and I was away!
I called at Lidle, to get some food, spend my brass,
Noticed, the yobboes had smashed the window glass,
Coronavirus, made the yobboes mad and crass?
Did someone think the glass, a canvas?
Was it done by some drunken dumbass?
Done by a gang of anti-maskers, out to kickass?
Good job the window was made of plexiglass!

I must apologise for the patheticness of this rhyme,

But writing it, I was unwell at the time,

Anne Gyna, stopped me feeling sublime,

My future as a poet is not worth a dime,

But I’ll try to get it better next time!

Inchcock – Wed 16 Sept: My busiest, but happiest day for months! Two nurses visits! Chinwags! I was in heaven!

TFZ in the hallway in his mansion!

Wednesday 16th September 2020

Somali: Arbaco 16ka Sebtember 2020

02:35hrs: I came back to a sort of ersatz life, and was in need of a wee-wee. No surprise there, then. I rose gently from my £300, second-hand, c1968, dilapidated, not-working, cringeworthily beige-coloured, rusty, rickety, recliner, and did so with relative ease. Got the stick and caught my balance, and woggled-wobbly to the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket) and took a rather unexpected LHLB (Long-Hosepipe-Like-Blasting) wee-wee! There was no AMD (After-Micturition-Dribbling), either? I took the bucket and emptied, washed and disinfected it.

I got feeling instantly guilty, as, on my the way to the kitchen, I espied positive signs of my nocturnal-nibbling activities! And not just a few Quaver packets, but three, an empty yoghourt pot, and a stick from an iced-sucker as well! (Guilt-Ridden-Mood adopted).

To the kitchenette, and got the kettle on the boil, and took a photo of the morning view, with the Nikon, in aperture-priority mode. Not one of my bestest, but still. I heard creaking noises, but could not find where they were coming from. They sounded as if they were all around the flat? And the mysterious ‘Hum’ was getting louder again?

So, I had a look outside to see if I could hear any in the flat’s hallway, but no! The newly screeded concrete flooring had feet marks on it already. They were Josies from when she woke me up last night, methinks. They were small and opposite my front door. Not that it should matter, cause the ground is going have the imitation wood flooring tiles fitted on it soon. But no creaking sounds out there, when I returned to the flat, I heard the scrunching sounds again, but they got less often as time passed. I hope the building isn’t crumbling! Ooh-er!

I got the BP sphygmomanometer readings done. And, Oh, dearie me! The Sys had shot up to 178 now! Dia 76, Pulse 79. The last two seemed alright to me, but then again, I do get confused much more with my newly acquired Arithmaphobia nowadays.

The stick thermometer read another healthy-looking 35°c. The second day in a row that it has reached 35°, so things seem to be looking up in that department, anyway. So, apart from the silly-high Sys, things appear okay.

Perhaps the worrying about all the busy medical and other appointments coming today, might have some bearing on the Sys? Or, not!

I got the mug of Glengettie Gold tea and went to the computer. Where I took a Nikon shot of the right foot, showing me that the new, either ulcer or Clopidogrel allergy rashes on top of the limb, is growing in contrast, and spreading-out a little further? The old ankle ulcer is getting jealous methinks and is getting a smidge more flared again. Hehe!

As usual, when I started typing to update the Tuesday blog, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked off. How does the Peripheral-Neuropathy know when to get Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS, or even launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and act-up at the least opportune times for me? Humph!

I went on Google and found a site called Health-Unlocked, about Peripheral Neuropathy, I joined, and hope to live long enough to find the time to take part in the discussions.

I pressed on and got the post finished, but it was annoying and frustrating work. Took me far too long, but still, Hey-Ho and there you go! I emailed the link, answered comments, Pinterested some snaps, and then went on Facebook catch-up.

: The ablutions were carried out. A total of only eight dropsies. No toe stubbings, no clearing any shelves or falls! One two mini-shaving cuts. Perhaps an even better session than yesterday! SSSSME Smug-Swank-Superior-Smiling-Mode-Engaged!

I moved the maroon jacket I’d washed, rung and hung last night, above the kitchen sink, into the wet room to dry a little quicker, and out the wall convector heater on to encourage it.

Made a start on this template, and the landline burst into life. It was the optician receptionist, telling me the new spectacles are ready for collection, at the shop on Mansfield Road, in Sherwood. I explained that today is too busy for me to get out, and tomorrow I have to wait until the Nottingham City Homes maintenance crew come to repair the fire alarm. She seemed pleasant enough, she is about 20-years-old, beautiful, and of course, head over heels in love with me and craves my attention’s and body. Ahem!

I decided to get the carpet up and take it to the bin outside, I’m sick of tripping-up on it. But what exertion and a struggle it was to get it up. I lost my balance rolling the carpet up, but kept from going over – and stupidly went into a Smug-Mode. Manipulating the rug and putting gorilla tape around it to stop it falling open on the journey down to the bin, and talk about timing again; Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, launched one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances, and over I went, falling on the recliner chairs arm. A bit of a bruise, on my massively over-sized, blubbery-stomached torso, now. Humph!

I got the rolled mat near the front door and made up some black waste bags and a recycling sack ready to go down. I couldn’t go yet, in case the sweet, highly desirable, pretty, beautiful, attractive, loin-testing nurse Hristina should arrive while I was outside. 

Minutes later, the intercom buzzed and flashed. It was the Vampire nurse. I admitted her, I don’t how she got up to the flat so quickly, she let herself in and raced to wash her hands, then took the blood in record time! The sweet thing was very busy, as she took the blood, she told she had eighteen calls to make, and she’s spent ages trying to find somewhere to park on-site. Bless her! I slipped her a mini-bottle of champagne before she left, and she scurried out to get to her car, worried she might get a ticket. ♥ Which left me feeling down a bit, and so sad for the gal.

Then, I got the bags on the trolley, and ~I’m not sure even now how I did it, but I got to the waste chute room and deposited the small bags, caught the lift down tot he ground floor, and got out to the bin – all while dragging the large carpet along with me! And what’s more, without any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiednagleplops! A definite Smug-Mode adopted, accompanied by a sly-smirk!

Back in the foyer and back up to the flat. Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and back on the computer to carry on with the updating of this post.

I noticed later, that the view outside, looked rather like a Legoland erection. That’s not the right word, is it? Tsk! So I took a photo, and I still think it looks like a toy-town view. The colours being similar and the odd murky lightness perhaps?

I made a mug of Glengettie tea to replace the Punjana one that’d gone cold, and I returned to the computer. The right foot was itching a bit, so I had a peep at it. The new marks had now grown less intense than earlier? It’s all a mystery to me!

Sister Jane rang, we had a decent chinwag for once. Good timing, Jane! Brother-in-law Pete has many hospital appointments made, and more in the pipeline! But I’m glad he’s being cared for and they are moving fast.

While we were nattering, I heard a thud and wondered what it was. Said my farewells to Jane and Pete, and went on the hunt to see what had caused the noise, accompanied by some tap-tap knocking from Herbert, but it didn’t last long.

The questionnaire from  CityCare Continence Service. They confirmed the appointment is for 10:@15hrs, at the St Anns Valley Centre. 

A lot of instructions and advice, plus the actual questions to be answered. Nine A4 pages! So I settled to try and get them filled in.

Blimey, that took me over an hour! But it turned out good timing, the Intercom lit up and the tune played. It was Caroline from the Falls Team keeping her appointment with me.

She let herself in and set to sorting me out. She set the new walking frame up a little higher, then and watched me using it. It was not a pretty sight. A few stumbles and much kerfuffling later, we decided I’d try out the wheeled server instead. She opted to send the walker back, and suggester I use the server more.

Which made sense to me, as the wheeled-server, would be easier to use and more effective when I get Shaking Shaun, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, or Peripheral-Neuropathy-Pete, launching one of his involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances! I appreciated the kind help. It was so nice to have someone to have a little chinwag with, as well.  We made the decision to return the frame, and I must try to use the server more, it is safer.

Back on CorelDraw while I await the Sainsbury order coming. I made a graph from the local Coronavirus report.

Sainsbury order arrived. A mixture of delightful, (Lemon Sole for Jenny), naughty (Limoncello for Josie), and my fishy favourites, and some Farmhouse Sourdough bread (a wickedly tasty-treat for myself!) Potatoes, farls, Surimi, fish sticks etc., Great!

I got the fodder inside and stored away, getting my nosh for the night prepared. A good selection of delights: Buttered Sourdough bread, Irish potato farls, smoked streaky bacon, Jenny-supplied yellow and mini-red tomatoes, egg mayonnaise, pickled extra-strong pickled onions, and some fiendishly sweet after-nibbles of, mousse and black grapes.

After the busy day, and the excitement of seeing two hard-working, sweetly-pleasant, caring nurses attending to treat and help me, chinwagging’s, and my mood on a high, I enjoyed this feast so much. Taste-Rating; 8/10! Having the sourdough bread, was a wonderful, but naughty self-treat. That’s it now, once these bread has been finished, until next month. With the thought of eating some more, mingled with the sadness of having to go back to the usual loneliness and chatter-less days coming up.

Still, I’ve got things to look forward to, like:

  • Getting to the opticians to give them £300 and collect my spectacles.
  • The Dentist visit for three fillings and an extraction!
  • The St Anns Continence Service clinic for my bowel and bladder scans.
  • The Warfarin Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic visit, to have my DVT reassessed.
  • Cardiac Team at the City Hospital, to have my mechanical aortic and mitral valve replacements, sounded.
  • And, to find someone who will cut my toenails! Hehehe!

I took the meal things to be washed, and moved the box I’d carried the food into the kitchen with, and came across some ‘Lego-Cards?

What are these all about?

Took the medications, and settled into the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner. The thrills of the day must have worn me out, cause I’d nodded off very quickly, and stayed that way, for Six-Hours! Yee-ha!

I thought I’d look back, on my victories

I thought I’d look back, on my victories

Bear with me; these are hard to find…

At birth, I lived through Mother’s fag ash dropping on me,

I had Double-Pneumonia at the age of three,

Sister Jane was almost adopted, to Italy, she did flee,

Brother Pete, escaped, good for him, went in the army,

Mother running away, the police wanted her, you see,

Which left just poor old Dad and me,

Doing the cleaning, shopping, and two paper-rounds, that was Inchy!

I survived being thrown in the Nottingham Canal,

Clinging to a barge rope, without much hope,

I was rescued by Brain, a neighbour, and a real pal,

Hauled out, was taken home, full of hope,

Got a belting off of Dad, and scrubbed with carbolic soap!

GC Young

Jane away in Italy still,

Life was for us both, a bitter pill,

We’d both had our sad times, but still,

I started work, bought a bike that would go uphill!

Duodenal ulcer, Anne Gyna I acquired easily enough,

Got shot at work, and a new heart fitted,

Fron flat to flat, I flitted,

Got made redundant, Cancer zapped, not fritted,

Job searching failed, hopes, attritted,

My desires, faith, and plans buffetted!

GC stick

Then along came Peripheral Neuropathy ailment,

 Jane, back from Australia, accompanied me,

To and from the hospital, she was heaven sent!

Then the stroke, I was a broken bloke,

Months in care, after the stroke,

Slowly, recovery began to cloak,

Bits of the old Inchcock, showed, bespoke,

And I knew something more would wroke!

Then the diabetes was found,

And things got worserer, all around,

When Saccades-Sandra, was also found!

But, my hopes and aspirations remain,

Although I am no longer sane,

I’m ready for the challenges again…

I just wish there was a little less pain!

I fang you!

 

Inchcockski – Frid 28 Aug 20: Nebulosities, insecurities, and vaguenesses, today. So, no change there!

TFZer Gal – Cor! ♥

Friday 28th August 2020

Croatian: Petak, 28 Kolovoza 2020 Godine

00:05hrs. I stirred, strangely I was feeling in somewhat semi-refreshed. I passed wind proliferously, noted that I’d had five wonderful hours of slumber, and unbroken for wee-wees. The ailments all seemed to be on holiday, or strike.

(Not regular this, but very welcome, it’s just a little bit sort of nervous-making when summat goes well for me). Hehe!

I removed my preposterously flabby and bulging-bellied body from the £300, c1968, second-hand, uncomfortable, sickeningly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Got on my feet, grabbed Metal-Mickey (four-pronged-walking-stick), caught my balance, glasses on, (no hearing aids again, I must try again to get some batteries), and hobbled off for a wee-wee. All with relative ease. No shakes, dizzies, or leg dancing! And the evacuation of the urine was of the PBOCAN (Painless-But-Orange-Coloured-Almost-Normal) variety. I’m getting even more worried now, Haha!

Even more good fortune when I did the Health Checks. (The adoption of a Smug-Mode was considered, but rejected, I don’t want to push my luck, Hehe!) The SYS that was so high yesterday had gone down a fair bit, to 153. The DIA and Pulse were the same as on Thursday. 

The medications were imbibed, along with last night’s, that I had somehow forgotten to take. (That’s more like my usual traits!)

The stick-thermometer gave forth a low reading of only 33.3°c. It’s not been this low before?

I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on Computer Cameron, well, switch it on, and then made up a WordPress template for tomorrow. Next, I uploaded the photographs needed to finalise the Thursday Inchcock Today.

I’d no sooner started, and SSS (Shudddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked off. This extended the time it took to get the updating finished, and left me with an aching shoulder joint!

But really, I think the real blame for SSS’s antics, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing. As the nerve-ends try to make contact with the brain. And they can’t because of the dying distal end of the axon of a nerve fibre has terminated. You can tell I’ve been looking things up on Google again, can’t you? Hehehe!) Owt to make myself sound cleverer! Hehehe!

I persevered and got the dairy updating done. (A hard, painful, frustrating slog, but still) Then I posted the link on Facebook, added some photographs. WP comments answered, and Pinterested picture. Then, off to make a brew.

Kettle on, and tried to get a decent picture of the morning view. I used the Night Panorama option on the Nikon camera selector this time. I was well-pleased with the resulting snap. Very close to how things looked to the eyes. (Swank-Mode-Adopted!)

Made the mug of Thompsons Punjana, and poddled back to Cameron. I viewed the WordPress Reader section. Then tried again to get some graphics done for the Inchcock Today headers.

Sister Jane rang me, sang ‘Happy Birthday to You’, and we had mutual moaning chinwag with the odd laugh creeping in. Hahaha!

Ablutions next: Status of Ablutionalisation Session Results: 8/10 – Great! No-bother with the teeth cleaning (I was meticulous). Shaving: Only once nick and two dropsies! Shower: Four dropsies, but no dizzies, knocking into anything or showerhead dropping!

Medicationalisationing: The furuncles and Harold’s Haemorrhoids creaming, was a little delicate, otherwise, plain sailing! The feet were looking okay, but anaemic!

Amazing how different the ablutioning sessions can be! One of the best this year!

I exited the wet room and found a letter on the floor delivered. On closer inspection, I found it was for a Mr B. Plant. So, that’s a parcel and letter this week wrongly delivered. Hey-ho! I’ll take it down to the office in a bit.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and made-up an Iceland order for Monday, 09:00>10:00hrs.

I got the black bag made up, to put down the waste chute on the way out, camera in my jacket pocket, and letter in the trolley, and off I poddled! Down in the lift to the ground floor. I noticed that I’d taken the black bag down with me, forgetting to take it to the chute, Tsk! I left it near the recycling bin to collect on my way back from the office.

The nub-ends that I picked up with my picker-upper last week were accumulating again on the grass and pathway. The drizzle looked as if it was trying to come again.

Regarding the black bag; I can’t understand it, you know. How a man such as myself, keen and alert, youthful, dynamic, with such a reliable memory, could have forgotten to do something. Humph! 

I hobbled casually along Chestnut Walk, to drop the letter off at the Interrogation office. Seeing the Emergency Ambulance outside Winwood Court, was a little sad. Deana was busy on the phone, so I dropped the wrongly delivered letter on a desk.

I took a photographicalisation of the end of Winwood and Winchester Courts. I waved to a couple of tenants, who were coming back from the bus stop. But there were precious few bodies about for a chin-wag, just a few exchanges and pleasant words can do so much for one’s morale.

The fine drizzle was beginning to fall, so I didn’t go any further, and I made my way back to Woodthorpe Court. Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, these energumenist to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and pants off of the old fart Inchcock’. Just thought I’d mention it, like. I made it back into the flats in time to miss the rain. (More good-luck! Mmm?)

As I got in the foyer, I remembered the black bag I’d left outside near the bins, so I popped out to get wet in the rain and collected it. Put it on the trolley, and made my way up to the twelfth floor.

I popped the small bag into the waste-chute, and trapped my flipping osteoarthritis finger knuckle in the metal cover retrieving my limb! Then caught my ankle on the three-wheeler as I reversed out of the room… again!

It could have been any digit I trapped, but it had to be this one! Cribblesboganagonies

  But of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Oh, yes, indeed! I’m made of sterner stuff than to whinge, whine, whimper, or wail at such trivialities. The bleeding should be easy enough to stop. Also no cursing, either!

Ahem, cough! 

I got the trolley in through the doorway without any damage or injuries, and I got the kettle on. I’d have put some pain gel on the ankle, but despite my best efforts with Phorpain gelled kitchen towels and the picker-upper being utilised, I ended up with most of the medication on my toes, legs, clothes, and the carpet! Sad, innit? I got the gel on the little finger without any hassle!

I seasoned the potatoes in the crock-pot and turned it to the highest setting.

I got on with creating a graphic again, but I’d had only got one done when Saccades Sandra kicked-off at me! I left the screen, and put the computer into sleep mode, and had a little meander around the flat.

Not easy with only 3 rooms and wet-room to choose from. Hahaha!

I ended up opening on the balcony and opened a window to get some fresh air and take a shot of the end car park. I took the picture, then had to come back in the flat to get the towel to dry myself off. What a nebech! Hehe!

I snapped the next photograph through the closed, left-hand window. The rain was persistent, but not too much wind with it, mind you.

The clouds looked threatening.

When it came time to close the open window, I took extreme care in doing so—many better men than I have had fingers bruised, blood-spotted, and cut, since their installation. I heard of one lady, who had the window fall out and hit her! But that’s being kept quiet, naturally.

I went to check on the spuds, all but ready-cooked now. I’ll have a bash at another TFZer graphic, and close down, get some nosh. So, on I go to CorelDrawing again. Got another illustration done, and then served up the dinner.

An excellent flavour today, I’m so glad I put the fish sauce in the potatoes, it suited this phagomaniac down to the ground. It was savoured and digested with great deglutition. Leaving a well satisfied, almost smug mood lingering within. 9.2/10!

The weariness and fatigue arrived while I was doing the washing up. I got the evening medications taken, had a wash, and got down in the recliner. I put the TV on, to watch a Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmare, not sure if it had started when I drifted off. Zzz!

Coping with Old Age – Inchcock Style

Coping with Old Age – Inchcock Style

Wrote in SuPport of the fethaurus Users league

Like Corona Virus and wee-weeing, it comes to us all,

Like dizziness, madness and having many a fall,

You can’t prevent it, like a rainy squall,

It’ll come, Summer, Winter, Spring or Fall,

You might be having rumpy-pumpy, or playing beachball?

Football, tennis, baseball, trying to throw a curveball,

Or you could be summoned to the guildhall,

Nowt will stop ageing, for eternity, you may trawl,

But as I say, it doesn’t matter at all,

Ailments, disabilities, agony to recall,

Life is just a struggle and a brawl,

Unfairness, those who seem to have it all,

Money, good looks, who lives are a ball,

Even for them, live will stall,

Death is perfectly natural,

Mind you, them who live at Balmoral,

Though, lacking in some moral,

Live longer, that’s connatural,

It’s us commoner’s, with no collateral,

Who was accepting our being visceral,

But death, well, it’s gone viral,

For the underprivileged, hopes, are not transferable,

Though, commitment is not endurable,

Life is not so cheery, easy, or affable,

Things can get so bad, death is advisable,

But still, you must admit, it can be laughable!

I wish that humour was bequeathable,

And seeing the future was browsable,

Wouldn’t it nice, if death was cancellable!

Just a thought! – I had one in 1958 as well!