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: Cheesy Potatoes Made!

The highlight of the day. At long last, after several months, I took a risky chance and made some cheesy baked potatoes! I’d missed these for so long, I risked it. The last two days, the nerve-end failures had much fewer. Glad I did now, and I got away with it! Aware of the dangers that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete may impose on me…

Awakening, after the fifth horrible nights’ sleep, the urge for a mug of Glengettie was irresistible. I hobbled into the kitchenette with Metal Mickey and got the kettle on; the dim view had beauty to it, so I fetched the ‘on-its-last-legs’ Canon camera. Took a shot…

I’m lucky to have such a panoramic view,
Most times, the outcoming photo will do,
Today the Peripheral Neuropathy was on cue,
I got a decent photo, of the sky, with a purple-blue hue,
I was feeling in reasonably good knick, too!

Made the tea, good enough for me,
Later, the ablutions, well I needed a pee,
Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding free…
So I did the ablutioning, shaving carefully…
Amount if cuts none, although tiny nicks, three,
Nasal spray, eye drops, cleaned the lesion… yucky!
Medicated, dressed, it was a bit of a malarkey…
Finished the jobs, sanitarily…
Along came the Iceland delivery!

I soon got them in and into the kitchenette. The potatoes they had delivered actually looked fresh. So, I selected three large ones to use for the cheesy potatoes.

Put the three spuds in the oven…

Got the rest of the food put away…

Again, they had no Leicester Cheese, shame, but they substituted some imitation extra-strong cheddar, so at least I could make the cheesy pots up in a while.

The door chime rang out its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. It was Josie to tell me she’d just had a call from her Niece, who is going to take her out for a meal today. Bit of a disappointment…

I’d just added the mushrooms, tomatoes and chestnuts to Josie’s stew on the stove hob as well! Humph! Never mind, I said she could have it tomorrow. She seemed happy enough with that.

The Carer arrived, the same gal as yesterday. So no humour or nattering. She took the waste bag with her, though. A tablet short in the pot she provided. A Beta Blocker or Codeine. I assumed I’d dropped it; she got another one.

I carried on with prepping the fodder. I got on with getting Josie’s chilli ready in between.

Got the pots out of the oven and the cheese, sauces, BBQ seasoning, vinegar, BBQ sea salt, and bin nearby. Ready to scrape out the flesh from the tubers into the basin to bash the hell out of them with the seasonings added…

Which went amazingly well, no shakes, nerve-end didn’t go off, and only one tiny nick on the finger. No dropping of anything at all… oh, yes, I did drop the BBQ seasoning pot; don’t know I forgot that, cause it landed on my left foot and rolled to the end of the kitchen. I took a snap of it below.

I set the timer, took it to the computer, and worked on the  ‘Why’ blog. I soon needed the Porcelain Throne, so off I trundled to the wet room. All went well. Washed and out to check on the spuds in the kitchenette oven (That’s where they were, Hahaha!).

The peas were ready, so I got them on the plate with the sliced yellow tomatoes.

Sister Jane rang, and we had a chinwagging session.

Got the spuds out; I must say they looked good to me. Then, as the plate and tray layout progressed, I was impressed with my culinary performance today… Smug-Mode-Adopted!

By gum, it was grand!

Individual content ratings:
Cheesy Baked Potatoes – 9/10
Yellow Tomatoes – 8/10
Garden Peas – 9/10
Beef Pastie – 8/10

I spent many hours on the odeing for the blog. Visited Facebook WordPress Reader and had t nip to the wet room again, for the low point of the day – Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding yet again. I’d not noticed earlier with the excitement of getting a cheesy potatoes meal made without any severe hassle, finding it tasted so good and talking with Jane, that the blood had congealed with the Protection Pants. (A memory, something I had to do or something like that just fluttered into my head, then left?

So I was in the wet room for an awfully long time, cleaning and medicating. And this is the most painful of all of the ailments to medicate. I’d like to shout ‘Argh!’ But I won’t, I did a bit of that at the time. Hahaha! But today was still a better than usual one, and a Sunday too; usually not a lucky day. Although, I reserve the right to change my mind if it starts bleeding again. Hehe!

I was feeling a bit tired now, so I sat down with a water bottle and turned on the TV. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and was woken by the evening Carer coming early (Not that it matters). On to the Computerisationing again.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP: HERBERT

22:20hrs: Sounds like a vacuum, droning noises from above. (Not from Herbert, too distant-sounding) If I can hear it sufficiently to keep me awake, I feel sorry for anyone with decent hearing trying to get off to sleep! I think it got to Herbert above me because he started tapping and banging then. Kept it up on and off until nearly midnight!

If you don’t mind, a few words being spoken to you?
My mind wandered a little then, fretting and with Deja Vous…
Because getting to sleep, I just couldn’t do…
The droning noise’s sound got louder, persistent they grew!

The Thought Storms kicked off, as they tend to…
The eyes, the left knees arthritis, appointments overdue,
Silly thoughts, like should I give my testicles a shampoo?
Sleep was unavailable, so do I have a shower. or catch the flu…
Turn the TV on? Get something to eat? That sounded neat,
Yes, I was going a smidgeon barmy, yes, it must be true…
I nodded off, and after an hour of kip… I woke in a mind-stew!
I waddled to the Porcelain Throne, messy job, Oh, the phoo!

Then Carer Richard arrived, the medications to sort and do…
Brought me two postage packets; I said thanks, bless you!
Issued the medications, and before he said his Depardieu…
We had a little natter, or a few…
I told Richard of last nights noisy hullabaloo…
That ensured me no sleep, and hitherto…
It must have been loud; I heard it too…

In seconds, Richard had worked it through…
Gale force winds had all night long blew…
As it happens, they are still blowing now, too!
I thanked him for settling the mystery issue…
Slipped him some treats, as he said his adieu!

Richard to the rescue again!

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Today – Saturday 29th January 2022

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…

………………………………………………

Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Innocuous Inchies Diary – Thursday 11th February 2021

TFZer Yahoo! ♥

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Thursday 11th February 2021

Maori: Taite 11 Pepuere 2021

02:55hrs: I’m afraid things aren’t too good this morning healthwise.

Bad, in fact. Pains in the right fib cage, dizzy heavy, dry eyes, coughing, wheezing, a hell of a sore throat, too! A heck of a farce getting out of the recliner, I all but went over as I stood up

The mind was muddled. As I took a wee-wee, the bucket was almost full! I thought about the Amazon Morrison order that is due this morning, then there is the Covid-1- Vaccination in the morning, I was certainly not in any condition to get there at the moment. Maybe the nurse can give me something to helo me come-round a bit?

I’m not sure how I’ll go with the ablutioning either. The comments on WordPress, I was not able to concentrate on at all, sorry folks.

I made a start on the Health Checks while I was able to. Why I don’t know, but I couldn’t get the Boots Sphygmomanometer to work, I gave it several attempts, but the shaking and shivering might have summat to do with it?

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, worked fine enough.
I’ll give it another go on the BP machine later. That is if I don’t get feeling any worse than I already do.

I got the updating to the Wednesday log done, no doubt with many errors and mistakes made along the way. Pinterested some snaps, and emailed the link. Onto Facebook, but not for long, as I said, I was terribly confused about things. WP comments next, and then the WordPress Reader section.

Went to make the first tea of the day, Glengettie – but I’m not sure if I will be able to cope with it, I’ve started the regurgitate bits of food, or phlegm, now! Humph! The tea tasted totally different? Didn’t drink it.

Time to get the ablutions done now, so I can get it done before the food is delivered by the Amazon shopper. Gawd, it felt cold, even with the heater on full. Brrr!

  • ABLUTUIONALISATIONING REPORT:
  • I had to start with a Porcelain Throne evacuation. Not too messy, maybe Consiptation Konrad is making a comeback?
  • Toothache Terence was a little bothersome, but nowt serious.
  • The shaving was a smidge fraught, Shaking Shaun, you know. Only two tiny nicks. Fair does, they bled well!
  • The showering had its moment as well, clout on the elbow against the grab rai, and I bent down to retrieve the dropped shower gel and banged the forehead. Ah, well!
  • Drying off was trouble-free, Yes!
  • The medicationalisationing was almost perfect! Just Cartilage Cathy was any bother!.
  • Struggling to get the PPs on, and over I went down backwards on my bum – banging the shoulder, I clouted in the shower.
  • Harolds Haemorrhoids were not happy with me!

As I was coming out of the wetroom, I found myself singing away? The door throat had eased a bit, the coughing was as frequent but seemed less of it? The pain in the right chest had reduced – no understanding or reason that I can find?

I took the morning medications. I was still feeling a little perkier than earlier – but with the taste buds dying, I think I’ll call 111 later.

The body temperature was right again.

I tried the Sphynonamity As I caught up with this blog, I got two text messages, from Amazon. My Morrison-Amazon shopper is on the way. At 08:55hrs, the intercom burst into life, but I could not hear what the lad was saying. I hobbled out to meet him in the lift lobby, he soon arrived, and he put the bags in the hallway for me.

I thanked him, and off he trotted.

While I thought of it, I used the Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by, ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China. Not too high at 159, DIA at 84, Pulse bit high maybe at 96bpm?

I moved the bags into the kitchen.

I concentrated on sorting the double ordered items I bought, what a clot, I thought when I made the order, it was for next Thursday. Jenny Nora and Frank, and the Wardens can benefit from my idiocy. Hahaha!

I skillfully loaded the waste bags and one from Amazon, onto the trolley-guide, and out to the waste chute room.

Caught a lift down to Jenny’s, and left the parcel outside their door.

Back up to my floor, with its Modern Art wall painted decor.

Got in the flat and hand-washed the
Made in Myanmar (Burmese) made, maroon zip-up jacket, Al done, rung, rinsed and hung above the kitchen sink, to drip dry for a few months.

I made some parsnips, carrots, red onion and a few potatoes.  As it was flavoured with Oxo meat and vegetable seasoning, and some mild chilli powder and yellow capsicum.

Pound to a penny that I don’t eat it, with my tastebuds out of action.

All earlier ailments returned instantly as it someone had turned a light on! I’m going to have a sit-down. And unwind. Jenny called me on the mobile.

I fell asleep, and nearly fell off of the chair as I woke up, Hehehe! This was the end of sleeping for the next, but doing anything was beyond me. I just sat with the sore throat, coughing, shivering, and rib pains, and didn’t do anything, but could not get back to sleep. Things were bad now.

I got a call from the Doctors surgery, about tomorrows vaccine jab. I explained how things were, and the lady said she would have a talk with doctor Vindla, and she would ring me back. I thanked her.

She phoned ten-minutes later. I struggled to hear what she was saying, but the gist of it was: Ask Warden Deana to call, 119 and book a Covid-19 test via mail. Do not go to the vaccine inoculations tomorrow! So not be tempted to take extra Codeine 60g. Get back in touch if things do not improve.

The rest of the day, I sat, moped, coughed, gargled for the throat, and feared what this new rib pains were, I’ve enough ailments without a new one.

I noted a football match was on the box. Watching the news, then the weather, a chap said tonight it night get down to -13°c, in Scotland Brrr! I grabbed the camera and took a photo of the screen. Ah, this was a firecas for Saturday.

It took many hours, but I did get off to sleep, for two hours! Woke up coughing, hurting sneezing now, and decided to get up not that I’d got down!

Not good, Humph!

Windows Update Again: Life is complicated enough, without this! Argh!

I just got a message up when I started the computer…

After the last lot, when Grammarly went bonkers, I couldn’t find the passwords that had disappeared, CorelDraw had to be reinstalled, the computer started saving photos to a file of its own choice, and could not delete from DropBox without a file being deleted from everywhere… It made me poorly!

Just thought I’d mention it, like.

Now. wherever are my tablets?

ZZZ18X

Argh! More Windows Updates. Suicide becomes a little more appealing! Hehe!