Inchcock’s Retrieved Dairy, Photos & Odes

/ Inchie / 16 Comments


THURSDAY 21st JULY 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FRIDAY 22nd JULY 2022

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

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


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

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

Food prices rocketing; I can no longer afford my stilton…
Gone are the urge, ability and cash for any perversion,
No strength for any insurrection, rebellion or subversion,
Wee-weeing too much, the odd Porcelain Throne explosion…
Stuck indoors with my misery, apathy and mental inertion…
I hate my good health and mental abilities desertion…
Failures and accidents come in an endless succussion!
Friday next is my first Diabetes Coping session!
Have to go now; it’s time for creams, injection and medication,
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   Yea, Gawd of heaven! I know the recent Blood Pressure readings have been good for the last few days, only just in the red zone, but today, the SYS was 111, the lowest ever recorded in my life! And in the green area!!! DIA at 57 was down 5 points, and my Pulse rate was down 8. .

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

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


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

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

Inchcock’s Local News Snippets – Issue 33↉

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

ODE TO CRIME

Some say crime is committed by the riffraff, the social residue,
And we’re all aware this is in itself, true…
Those who escape punishment are often the true blue…
Bankers, the rich can get away with crimes, so often do!
Anteriority and ruling classes are dishonest too…

But get prosecuted? There are so very few!
Worldwide there is deception, greed, murders, a hullabaloo…
For the Grenfell fire, justice is long overdue…
A Tory Council killed so many people, seventy-two!
Over Grenfell, the councillor’s actions are still under review!
It makes my blood boil and stew…

Why no protests? Cause they were immigrants or a Jew?
From Lithuania, India, China, Pakistan, or Timbuktu?
Misleading claims, lies, and cover-ups, for us to misconstrue,
The brave firefighters dejected, hitherto…
Their ladders were too short, they suffered Deja Vu,
The victims and relatives need justice, but from who?
Let’s be honest; prosecutions are long overdue!

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

NEWS SNIPPETS

You can see why they needed so many weapons about…
All of their drugs, it’s worth the law to flout?
Bet they drink champagne, and the police on stout,
With so many weapons, they could give Putin a hand-out?
Every gang member, each one a lout!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Well, these angelic little Angels would tempt most waverers on the bringing back hanging to reconsider! Don’t they look nervous?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Can anyone help them?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

He was feeling a little depressed. This can happen to anyone…
Defending himself, is he an arrogant paragon arrogant?
Obviously, money-mad, being a plastic surgeon,
Why not an EENT man, cancer, or psychosurgeon?
Mayhaps he drinks champagne by the flagon?
Has an evening meal of caviar and sturgeon?
His hopes of being found innocent? A smidgeon!
If so, he can run away and start surgery in the Yukon!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I hope this murdering scumball is not getting paid for his appearance on Gogglebox? I’d bet that he is!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

An Uber spokesperson said: “The safety of riders and drivers is a top priority for Uber, and this is a concerning report. We will investigate this incident.”
Must be more to this, worra you think?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


Result in the minus for the first time in a while!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchcock continues to fail to win in the free Play-To-Win competition!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

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

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

These are the latest available records of Nottingham Violent Crime Statistics.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

ODE of UNRELATED THOUGHTS

Peripheral Neuropathy has made me ambisinister.
We’ve got Rishi or Lizzie for Prime Minister…
Either one could prove to be sinister,
I was never much of a student or educator…
But I self-taught myself later…
Which was a disaster…
He hated me… the headmaster,
On the balcony last night, I thought I saw Jupiter,
Taking 10-minutes of wee-weeing; makes me loopier…
Do you think my Arithmophobia…
Would it stop me from getting a job as a croupier?
I think my memory is getting more forgettier!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Keep Safe.
Cheers!

Inchcock: Wednesday’s Diary & Ode

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ODE TO SELF-IRRISION & DERISION

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

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

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

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

Depressed, I considered becoming an anthropophaginian,
There was a week when my life seemed ambrosian!
Matilda was her name, an arithmetician,
Randy? No need to ask her for her permission!.
But she turned out to be a Pinoccohian,
Not only that but an absinthian,
I returned to Nottingham, working as a beautician.
———————————–

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Inchchcock: Ode, Diary & Blown-Up Feet & Ulcer

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

ODE OF THE DAY
With apologies for any grammar errors and drifting off topics

My worries & fears have grown fainter…
It’s not that I’m any less dafter…
I’m still scared stiff of cleaner Esther!.
I’m always in a panic, flutter or fluster…
But I had some good luck – what a flabbergaster!

I visited the EENT at the Queens Medical Hospital,
On my sixth visit, seeking cataract replacement, surgical,
Outlook not so bleak, but I was still sceptical,
The first Doctor was very sympathetical,
So kind that I felt almost emotional!

I waited to see the top Doc, obviously pedagogical…
For a final exam, to see if it was possible…
To make a lens to cover my cornea, which had a rimple,
My situation was becoming agathokakological…
A final exam deep in the eye, the fault may be congenital,
But the outcome was magical! ♥

It won’t be easy, but they’ll persevere!
I almost let out a loud cheer…
They put me on the waiting list; here, here!
Estimated wait, three months, and I thanked her,
My Smug mode engaged; it went nuclear,
Nothing can stop me know – well, maybe the Grim Reaper…
For the first time in months, I felt happier!


Then, of course, the other worries came to mind,
To suffer these Thought-Storms, I resigned,
Diabetes problems, Dentists as if designed…
To get me confused, my thoughts intertwined!

See above; mankind is so animalistic…
War, killing all tellurians, pathetic!
Humans have always been barbaric,
Yet we make some bionic?

Plenty of other ways to die than war,
Endless ailments attacking us for sure…
Covid, asthmatics, cancer, some with no cure…
Diabetes, heart problems & death in store…
Murderers, druggies, we’re killing more?

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

NEMO MORTALIUM ONMIBUS HORIS SAPIT

0525hrs:  I woke and was a little surprised with the state of my feet, ankles and legs. Not a pretty sight!. But you can see from the last photos above that they have worsened! The water retention has given me rock-hard legs? A bit of a struggle to get out of the recliner this morning… And boy, Oh Boy, was it painful walking!
I had a mammoth job trying to sort out a pair of spectacles that I could see adequately with. It seems every day, sometimes the sight changes during the day, and I have to try other pairs? Still, at least I’m on the waiting list, at the bottom, obviously, but the prospects of getting the cataract done are here, at last and least!.
Is at the drilling, tapping and banging early today. Bless him!
Richard arrived, a little concerned at the state of my legs. He got the medications issued and gave me time for a natter, about the Diabetes sessions and how to get there, and other little grumbles. Hehehe!
I pressed on with this blog starting.

The DVT-Warfarin nurse arrived with a trainee along with her. Soon got the blood taken. They were both Angelic, caring, beautiful, appealing, kind, sweet gals. Not that I noticed myself, of course. On with the blog…

The landline rang. I could hardly hear whoever it was, were saying. They were on about the legs and feet? Keep your feet up? Maybe Richard had told Natalie, and they had called her? That was good on him. Back to blogging…
The reddening of the ankle seemed to be lessening as time passed. Of course, it didn’t last, but it cheered me up temporarily) The swelling had not improved, but let’s be thankful for small mercies, that’s what I say!
At last, I got around to finishing the top graphics and started on the Odeing… Accompanied by Herbert’s cacophony of mechanical sounds. Haha! Back to the blogging…
Meridian’s Natalie tuned up, and she had called the Doctor. She wanted to take a photo of my legs to send to the surgery. No problem, she took and sent off in seconds. The landline burst forth again, and I asked Natalie to answer it. The Doctor said she wasn’t concerned with the ulcer, just the swelling on the feet and toes. Said for me to put my feet up. Natalie also listened to my tale of the Diabetes Sessions and suggested that if they can’t move the location to Sherwood. A local volunteer company, minibus, I can’t remember the name, could give me a lift there and back for a low cost. She could arrange it for the sessions at Bulwell for me? I agreed and thanked her. Back to the blog…
Cleaner Esther arrived to see how I was, shed just finished doing the other flats, and checked on the laundry bag, “No need, you have plenty of clothes and towels!” Haha! Fair enough, I’m not going to argue with Esther!
Back to the blogging! A busy day, innit? Back to the blog…
It dawned on me that I’d not done the blood pressure or temperature checks yet. So I did them!
The SYS, DIA and Pulse were all okay; in fact, combined, they were better than they have been for the last four days now!
Shame about the body temperature, though. After four days of being as nearly perfect as possible, today, it was well down at 32.7°c.
The NHS input page indicated that the average for blood pressure was almost out of the red zone. Doing well there, methinks.
I got some chips, well, potato slices in the oven. It’s getting late now; it’s time to start feeding the innards!
Oh, I just had a weather warning flash up! 102°f! Hotter than yesterday! I can see through the balcony window that there is a decent breeze blowing the bushes about.

I can’t weigh up why my body temperature is so low? Hey-Ho!
I’ve sat for an hour or so, with my legs up on a chair, as instructed by the wonderful caring Doctor of mine. But typing side-ways on is bad enough without the cataract eyesight and jerking body limbs. Having to stretch to reach, and getting a jerk, is making me make even more cock-ups than usual. I’m so glad the Doctor isn’t worried about the ankle ulcers… I’m afraid enough myself, though. Hehehe! Of course, she doesn’t have to put up with the pain, does she? Tsk! And putting the feet up doesn’t seem to have helped the ulcers or water-retention in the slightest, does it? Grungleturds!

I’m now going to get the nosh prepped and served. The sliced potatoes have been in for longer than planned, 35-minutes, so they should be crispy enough.

I’m back… what a pillock! I left them on the counter near the microwave! They have gone all soggy now in the heat. What a Plonker!
I put them in the oven, hoping they would not come out too bad.

Botherations, testicles and ARGH!

I’ve lost heart now; every time a Windows update comes in, this seems to happen! It took me over a week to get it to work last time, and then, I think it was something Windows did to get it back.
Mayhaps I’ll sing a song, be happy… shout out at passers-by with friendly words of greeting, spread love and companionship to the shoplifters, muggers and bail-dodgers below, from the balcony… Or not. Still, I’m not going to get all worked up, swearing, spitting, depressed and make myself poorly with hatred and self-loathing. I’ll just carry on without taking any photos. I’ll not miss taking them and lovingly putting them on this blog. Ate the meal and took a picture, but… Humph!

Called, and she sorted me out with the medications. The gal was horrified at the state of my ulcers and legs after taking one glance and averting her eyes. Of course, it could have been the scary-looking, boing-boing belly that caused this. I tried for hours to get the SD card to work again… futilely! I now await the next Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpa, Disaster, Cock-Up, foul-up, comedy-of-errors, snafu, omnishambles, or getting the trots! Not to mention walking into or tripping over something, involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about right-leg dance.

Up and down sort of day!

In the morning, I booted the computer to find the SD Card reader working again? So got the missing ones on here; they are for your belated perusal.


The potatoes looked okay. But the flavour was, well…
View during the 104°f heat!
Evening sunset – Thunderstorms forecast.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Diary: Off to the EENT Hospital Again

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

Monday, July 18th 2022


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04:00hrs: Woke with the brain ticking over. (I’m not saying it was functioning, more like a chugging noise the engine makes when it won’t start)

Made brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and went on WordPress, comments, then the WP Reader. Turned off the computer, and I started clearing things to get ready for the ambulance lift. Emptied, washed and disinfected the rather well-used NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).

SYS 148, DIA 72, Pulse 82. Not too good, but it’s been worse, I suppose. I had a bit of good luck here. I dropped the flipping Sphygmomanometer as I was taking out the tubing… and it fell in the waste bucket that had last night s PPs a,d used tissues from the bleed in it; thus, there was no damage; to it, and it still worked perfectly well!

Richard arrived, not at the promised 06:00hrs, but at 0:730hrs. Not that it mattered, cause the lift had not arrived yet. Richard seemed oblivious to his failings, bless him. As I said, it mattered not after all. Another bit of luck there, the lift being later: Great! Again! Richard sorted the medications, gave him some extra nibbles and plonk cause I thought he was going to come early, and told him of the Diabetes mix-up. Hehehe!

A little loser this time… yet more luck? I resisted going into Smug-Mode for the third time. Did the ablutions while I was in the wet room ablutions. I still found myself going into yet another, all the same… Why? I’ll tell yers; Not a single cut or bleed doing the teeth and shaving! No toe stubbing, Dizzy Dennis’s, involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dancing either. Not to mention no falls, banging of any limbs, or walking into anything!

I settled in the swivel chair with the magnifying glass and the crossword book.
I’d positioned myself in the hallway from the front room door, as I did last Friday, and awaited the arrival of the lift there. So I could hear it, in case the intercom buzzers. I can’t hear it from the front room.

As I sat there waiting, I felt and saw the ankles and legs beginning to visibly swell up, and the ankle ulcers glow and sting when the trousers, or anything, touched or brushed against them.

The telephone rang, which I thought I’d miss, as I was sat, my back facing the room, and had to manoeuvre my way to get into the landline in time, but I managed it. The lift driver said they would be here in 15 minutes. (Which would be 09:00hrs, and I would be late for the appointment, Ah, well!) I went down and sat in the flats lobby with the crossword book but couldn’t see to do any, and the reading glasses were back up in the flat.

They arrived, and I got into the ambulance. We picked another patient up en route, and he went in with me to the reception. I was told to sit there, with a  stern pointing finger, until I was called for. So, I did!

A lady beckoned me (this happened before in August 1962, Margaret her name, I think… I digress, sorry!). A gentleman came along and summoned me to another waiting area, where I was told to wait to be called. So, I did. More questions and eye tests, a little different this time, back to the holed discs and tested both eyes. Ten minutes later, she said, I will now go to see the ophthalmologist in charge for a final test and decision on whether it can be done or not due to the misshapen cornea I have. 

Out and through to another waiting area. Minutes later, a chap summoned me into a room, where the lady in charge was sitting, and it was obvious she was in charge! No messing or humour was apparent, needed or accepted from her. She spent some time on the chin machine again and asked more questions. Then, I was commanded to go to the young man’s device for some clour flashing exercises. It was not easy for me having to sit still, with Shoulder Shuddering Shirley giving some, and he had to keep holding the eyelids open from the other side of the machine. Cause for some reason, I could not open my eyes wide enough?
Minutes later, more Good News & Luck – The lady told me she was putting my name down on the list to have the surgery!!! I dare not ask how long it might be.

Hehe! Back to the initial reception to ask for transport home. I took a circuitous route to get to it cause I got a little lost en route.
I sat down around 1030hrs, thinking how well it went this morning.
I was still there at 14:00hrs but thinking a little differently.
Eventually, an ersatz ambulance came up and asked my name. And out we plodded into his vehicle. I was pleased to be going home, for some reason.

He took my trolley, removed the wire basket and put it in the cabin. Came back and asked if I was a diabetic when he noticed the legs were looking a little inflamed and rough, to say the least. ‘Yes!’ “Where’s your biscuits?” ‘The ambulance driver just took them and crushed them in the trolley walk. He’s just collapsed, mate!’ Today, there was a shortage of humour, laughter and smiling!
We then moved to the back of the site to a different section altogether, and we picked up two blokes in wheelchairs. (Getting later all the time!) We dropped the man at the back off in Carrington, not far from where the house was; the only good thing about this was it brought on a bit of pleasure and appreciation of living where I do now! At least the chap next to me was talkable to; we had a natter en route.
I was dropped off next. Gave the other bloke and the driver a choice of plonk from the trolley. That cheered them up a smidge.

In and up to the flat, I knocked my elbow on the door frame as I hurriedly got indoors to have a wee-wee. Stubbed my toe and, in my haste to get Little Inchie out, started the fungal lesion bleeding! I thought things were going a bit too well for me! Jon and a half cleaning up and medicating things in need (the lesion).

I came out after washing and medicationing, sorted the mess in the hallway, and found a leaflet in the letterbox from Nottingham City Homes.
They are organising a Special Event for all Winwood Heights Residents in Winwood Court communal lounge. Thursday, July 28th 2022, Twixt 11:00>14:00hrs. Attending will be the Nottingham Fire & Rescue Service, Community Policing, Nottingham Voluntary Services, the NHS, and more! NCH (Nottingham City Homes)  representatives. Building safety, Tenancy & Estate Management, Caretaking and Tenant Involvement Teams.
Also, a TRA (Tenants & Residents Association) General Meeting on Monday, 25th July 2nd. A few gentle reminders: Please do not leave food out for the birds, as it is attracting some less welcome visitors. Rats and other vermin.
Also, over the past few months, a few people, mainly youngsters, entered the flats and caused a nuisance. So be vigilant. Only let people in who you know and make sure that entrance doors are always closed after you have used them – and never leave ajar any fire exits.

Going to get some fodder, chips and Veggie-Chilli! Had the last of the pod peas with it – sad, heartbreaking, I may have a sob later. The Flavour rating given was a worthy 8.9/10! Apart from the bread being a smidge stale.

Carer arrived, and she soon got me sorted out. Thanked her with some strawberries from the fridge and her choice of a can of plonk. She took the waste bags out to the chute with her.

Washed the pots; I had a wee-wee. Darned lengthy follow-ups!) Got my head down. And had a decent kip for once. Grrreat!

Inchcock Today Ode & Diary

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

Of course, Inchie soon lost his own plot!

From the heights of success and much glee,
From being a Kingpin at the top of the tree…
I was never a Hank Marvin or Bruce Lee…
Drinking, I got the sack for my lampoonery,
Only one way to go now for me!

Down, with a frown…
In despair to be drowned…
I have yet to hit the ground…
For I’d been hoping for good luck to be found,
Doreen Dementia was giving me the run-around…
I’m like a blubbery whale that’s run aground!

But further into the quagmire, I plunged,
My last wishes and plans expunged…
Splat… I was dead, so no longer unhinged
No medications, no ears to be syringed…
No more waiting for the next ailment that twinged,
And not be moaned at, or be zugzwanged!.

SAINT PETERS GATE

Ah, St Peters Gate, will I get angel wings?
Two bouncers descended the stairing…
Nicked my walking stick and kicked me in the shin?
Why? I asked: “You were making too much of a din!”,
“If yer going to be a noisy bugger, you’re not gerrin in!
Another snuffed-it tellurian came, name of Martin…
Not as fat as me, in fact, he was relatively thin…
Same age, looked younger, said he was addicted to gin?

THE INTERVIEWS

I said, “I don’t want to know!” He said: ‘I was talking to him!’ …
Pointing at St Peter, who was busy questioning.
I say, ‘I was here first!’
“Ah, but I played in World Cup with Geoff Hurst!”
I quipped: “Is that it then, footballers go first”?

Adding, “That’s not fair! God, would be fair!”
A bouncer. the one with long hair…
Pointed to St Peter, smoking a reefer, sat in a chair…
“You see that bloke there?
“Yea!”
Well, he makes the rules for what happens here…
And he’s a West Ham fan, pulled out his taser…
He stunned me through my blazer…
I shouted. “You missed my ticker by a centimetre…
Do? yer, dead anyway, and laughed with St Peter!
Sorry, I died now; I was safer back in Uttoxeter!.
The Tannoy burst out, “You, tubby, shurrup, you blooter!
St Peter departed, saying I sort the bald one in the next millennia.
Hang on, I say, how long does a millennium last?

Don’t matter, does it? As he grabbed my hand for fingerprinting...
No rush; you’ve no one inside whittling…
“What about my Dad and Cyril, my cat?” I said, grovelling…
Well, if yer like, I can send you back to earth while yer waiting?
Words I never thought I’d find so frightening!
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SUNDAY 17th July 2022

I stirred around 05:00hrs. I had a wee-wee without any leakages. Washed, shaved, and in an industrious mood, I set about prepping Josie’s Sunday meal.

Prepped the fresh vegetables, got them in the saucepan, seasoned them and kept stirring them every now and then.
This was when I realised I had got hot water from the tap! And Carer Valerie had requested maintenance to attend, and they were coming today! Oh, I did feel a fool! I turned my attention to trying to find a number for Nottingham City Homes Maintenance. Out of hours one, it is the weekend, and standard lines are unavailable. It was a farcical effort. I did find and ring the number: A recorded message, which as with everything on the phone, was hard to understand. I think she said that this line is for emergencies only. A smidgeon of panic rose within. And after being stumped completely, I decided to ask the morning Carer if he/she would mind calling the number to see if it was possible to let them know that the problem has solved itself. Which is better than saying: “The twit who lives here is senile and has Vascular Dementia, so the old fool gets things a muffle” Don’t you think! To save the cost of an engineer coming out when not needed. I hope the maintenance man doesn’t beat the Carer in arriving… Oh, dear!
I forgot about the Morrison delivery coming today via Amazon until a text message arrived. I rushed about and got room made in the fridge and had just finished it when they arrived. A jolly decent chap came with carefully packed bags. I was pleased to see they had sent some vegan burgers, I’ve had them before and enjoyed this brand, so I ordered two packs of four burgers. How or why I ordered (if I did?) the breadcrumbed ones are beyond me? Vegan ice cream, some lemon ‘Free-From Bakewells on this tray… Mmm!
Food cupboard stocks resupplied. I’m hoping these cooked beetroots are actually-cooked and not raw like the Iceland ones were. Various cans of beans, pickled gherkins and a small bottle of BBQ sauce completed these bags. All three cupboards have been replenished now.
I had another look around for the NCH telephone numbers. No luck! Then did a deep Sherlock Holmesian ferret about the missing sunglasses that I might need tomorrow if they do the cataract operation in the morning. No luck! So, I had a hunt around for the hearing aid blower, oddly enough… No luck!
About 07:40hrs, the Morning Carer, Johnathan… no, no… Joseph arrived. The first thing I did was welcome him in with a big smile and tell him I had a problem and he might be able to help me out. I told him of my Whoopsiedangleplop with the hot water and asked if Joseph would mind calling the NCH for me. The lad was already running late, and he said he had to press on, fair enough, no problem with that. He then said he was getting his last calls done and came back to help[ me with the maintenance call. I thanked him.
A final stir and taste of Josie’s chilli, and off to the Porcelain room. Cor blimey, that was a big one! Hehehe! Got a wash again and went back to check on the Sunday lunch for Josie. Tasted good! I’d left the Canon camera in the wet room. I took a photo of my neighbours’ food tray and got it delivered quickly. Cleaned up the things used in cooking and returned to the computer to start this blog. Thought I’d upload the meal photograph… The Canon camera had not got the SD card in! Grungle-Self-Curses! And it was one to be proud of as well! Grrr! I am getting angrier with Dementia Doreen lately!
Then as things had calmed down, I did the belated Health Checks.
The Blood Pressure was up a little bit. Pulse down a smidgeon, and the body temperature was great!
The NHS input site was given the readings, which came out only in the red area. Pretty pleased with this.

I went into the kitchen to put some chips in the oven for my nosh and had a hat-trick of Whoopsie-Accifauxpas within minutes of getting in there.
① Dropped the tray over fresh oven-ready chips, and being so hungry, I picked them up, cleaned them, and put them in the oven anyway. ② ③ Burnt wrist putting the pots in the oven. Better get the food done now before the evening Carer arrives.
Tired, drained and worn out. I made a quick, simple nosh, which was tastier than many I’ve made. The fresh chips cooked in the oven were possibly the best I’ve ever tasted in months. Morrisons, they were. A bread roll, a few red and yellow tomatoes, and a pot of BBQ sauce to dip and dunk in. Hehehe!

Arrived, she soon had me sorted, and I stripped and got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. In search of Sweet Morpheus.

Inchcock Today: Blog with Odes

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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———————————–

Saturday 16th July 2022

04:45hrs: I rose from a terrible night’s sleep, again full of jumping awakes, yet felt calm and unconcerned? I rose with relative ease from the c1968, £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-operational recliner. Almost on auto-pilot, I hobbled into the kitchen, put the kettle on, then took a strained, painful wee-wee, washed and made a mug of Glengettie Gold tea.
At this stage, the farcicality of yesterday’s hospital visit came back to my mind. Suddenly doing anything whatsoever lost its appeal.
I got the computer on and went to the WordPress comments sections. I had the usual mass of communications on my latest blog to read and reply to. I did them both straight away. Then visited the WP Reader section. I did enjoy that. Checked the emails… I saw the promised Email from the Diabetes team confirming my joining the weekly sessions on a face-to-face basis; at first, remembering, this put me on a semi-high. Until I got to the location.

I didn’t realise that it was not at the Sherwood Social Centre. Where I was assured, it would be last year. Oh, no, (I should be so lucky!), it’s four miles away, in Bulwell! So, now I had to work out what buses I could get, hoping one would take me all the way from the flats. So, I set to searching Mr Google to find what was and wasn’t available. I’m afraid it wasn’t good news.

Due to Covid and lack of drivers, the service stops at Top Valley, not Bulwell! I looked at other options, but Dementia Doreen was not helping. I could get a bus down into Sherwood, then another to Bulwell, and return in the same route, but I’d have to remember the bus times, not be late etc., and that would test Doreen and me too much. I looked at the Email sent me again and sent a message. Explaining why I can’t get there and asking if there was any chance of the Sherwood Diabetes sessions opening. I had explained this to the Sherwood people, I can get there walking if necessary, getting back up the hill, it’d have to be a bus, but I reckon I would cope with that. Awaiting a reply from the gentleman.
I’m getting all uptight again now! This investigation into the buses has cost me three hours! Why can’t I get through just one day without something going wrong?

Carer Joe came late on, and it was off to the Porcelain Throne as soon as the lad left with his cold drinkie from the fridge.
Back to the Emails. Petal-Lisa had sent me a marathon. That took me over an hour to absorb and reply to. But it was a pleasure, and she had a little sleep recently, which cheered me up no end. Bless her! A treasure she be! ♥♥♥

Got back to sort more emails out, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a decent long chinwag, and a few smiles erupted. I had to cut it short, though; the Porcelain Throne activity needed tending to. Stinky, messy and painful. Humph!

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana.

And took some photos of the front views, starting with my much-missed visiting Tree-Copse in the bottom field.
Boy, I do miss visiting it. Sob!
Taking this picture of the front car parking on Chestnut Way, and spotted an ambulance below, at the front doors of my beloved Woodthorpe Court.
I wondered if it might be Francis coming back from the hospital? I certainly hope so. I’ll get a move on with this blog, interruptions permitting, and go down to see if she’s in.
I took a photo of the muggers-delight area to the left of the flats. Not many people around today?
Cracked on with the top graphics and ode for this blog. I must get the ablutions done as well. A jolly good shave, shower and sh…, well never mind that. Hehehe! Back in a while, smelling all nice, hopefully uninjured, not bleeding, and in a happier frame of mind. TTFN!
I’m back. Wait for this… Shaving…All good on the scrubbing up stakes! Not a single cut or nick! Ankle ulcer all calm, DVT veins have dived like submarines from the sea’s surface. The legs and feet did look a smidge like they were off of a cadaver, mind you.
I started for a change in the body temperature. Which was more than decent at 34.3°c. It seems to be doing a lot better recently. For weeks it was so low, not now, though. I suppose the hot weather may have some effect on it? Or not.
The Blood Pressure, as I believed I forecast yesterday, took a tumble. I think it was 166 on Friday night. Tonight a comfortable SYS 132. DIA 66, and Pulse a smidgeon low at 67bpm.
I put the figures in the NHS check site and found I was out of the red altogether, down in the amber. This has never been as low for years! Should I adopt a Smug-Mode?
I got the meal cooking and nipped into the wet room for a wee-wee.
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen to see if I’d left the hot water tap running. But no, I hadn’t? Came to wash my hands, and the hot water was cold? Well, it’s about 17:20, so it should be heating up now. Another mystery?
I grabbed the Fuji camera to take a picture of the just served up on the tray evening nosh. I somehow managed tsk top take this rather natty photo of the balcony as I picked the camera up? Yet another mystery?.
The last of the garden peas, the mushroom pattie and bread! But I did an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow. No good me having it on Monday, as I’ll be at the hospital, will I not? The Baxters, no, no, sorry, Heinz beetroot from Iceland was farcically hard! I bent the knife cutting into it. Then gave up cause it was too hard on the teeth.

Iceland has let me down a bit this week; apart from the beetroot, the squashed bruised bananas,  No Vegan Icecream, No Vegan beefburgers, and the mushrooms that had a sell use-by-date for the day delivered. Oh, and the crushed bread!

Valerie arrived. Told her about the water being cold, and she rang NCH Repairs for me, bless her.

Ten minutes or so after Val left, I started regurgitating the food. Not good! Better get this posted while I can. TTFN.

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Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

AND THE HOSPITAL VISIT

Friday 15th July 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ODE TO THE WAIT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchcock’s Diary with an Ode

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

Thursday Sorry, Wednesday 13th July 2022

I had a terrible job getting to sleep. It was a bad night; constantly waking up with a twitch or jerk. So, I overslept by hours! No time to get the ablutions done, as the morning Carer could arrive at any time.
I’m afraid my mind was all over the place, absent, and befuddled, sufficient for me to lose what day it was. I started so many things going, none of which gained any fruition, never mind getting completed. Yet I continued to potter about in the wet room, spare room, kitchen and front room, not getting anything done but starting so many tasks and forgetting about them… I knew this, but I could do nothing about it to rectify my stupidity… Ah, that could be my motto!

I’ve just read on my memory pad, ‘rubber balls’, I think. Not the foggiest why I wrote it! ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the doorbell, and the morning Carer came in, it was Richard. Which surprised me cause he doesn’t usually come on a Thursday (At this time, I’d not been informed it was Wednesday and not Thursday, all a part of my visit from Confusion Conrad, Tsk!) Poor Richard was still coughing away; been this for a few days now; the lad has. I mentioned that I hoped it was not Covid, and this seemed to upset Richard (not a lot!). He replied in a resolute unquestionable tone; it was not Covid. So I left the subject. He couldn’t stay too long; he’d got other calls to do. But we still managed a little to and fro nattering. Handed him some nibbles, flavoured water and plonk. Went to the door with him (I am a talker!), on his way out – at which he put on a heavy-duty Covid mask. It looked the business too. I think he said he was coming to do me on the morrow morning… but how I was with chronology and dates… I might well be wrong. Hahaha!

I got the computer started. Will I ever get a blog written today? Made a start on getting the photos online and sorted. Then, ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out again. It was the J Sainsbury’s delivery coming. It took me ages to sort them out, not that were any particular difficulties or problems; it was my brain!
I got the fodder sorted… with the podding of the peas as well; it took me over an hour-plus! Humph! And I have some to do for tomorrow yet. How I’m going to find time to do this blog, I don’t know… Tsk! As expected, I got sidetracked by the beautiful view from the balcony.

That was it… of out into the broad-walk balcony, Canon camera in hand, and had a battle getting the windows open at both ends, so I could take different views of the emerging sun from the rear of the tower blocks.
Interesting that out there, this view is Her Majesties Prison, Nottingham. The City Hospital, twelve murder locations (2021), and fourteen at least drug-growing homes. They were raided last year by the Nottingham Constabulary. The previous year. Jillie’s house and businesses galore. Apart from the TSB Bank, Faucet & Albatross Wines, three restaurants, three take always, a flower shop and a carpet shop. Also, a sub-Police Station, Second-hand furniture store, greengrocers and butchers; have all been closed down. Oh, and Jillie tells me that two new unwanted or needed take-aways have opened in the same shops that the earlier entrepreneurs went bankrupt. A new Charity shop is opening that’ll make eight in the half-mile length of Mansfield Road in Sherwood. Oh, and the new J Sainsbury local store that was being built where the Council closed the library, spent two years fitting out… have pulled out of the deal! I’m waffling, sorry.

I phoned Julie the Warden and told her about some strawberries and flower treats available; she said she’d pop up later. Still working on her own, I think, bless her.

At long last, I made a start on the blog. After a few hours, mostly sorting out the photographs to use, I realised I had not done any washing of my finely hones, muscular body yet.
Humph! I got the pod peas prepared for tomorrow… I was still in denial mode about it being Thursday.

I did another whole bag of the delightful and much-loved garden peas.
Got then them into the saucepan, as from the door blasted ♫Oh, Susan♫. It was Warden Julie. Handed her the strawberries, roses and some drinkies. When I asked her if she could drop the other strawberries off for Francis: Oh, dearie me… She told me that Fran had taken a bad fall yesterday and was in the hospital, but she’d keep them in her fridge if Fran returned. I thanked her and went into worry mode when Julie had gone. Poor Francis! I hope it’s not severe. I’ll find out if she is in the City or QMC; if she’s in the QMC, I can visit her after having my cataracts done! At first, this thought cheered me a smidgeon. Then reality dawned; wot a clot! How can I go to see Fran when I won’t be able to see anything? Also, they have kindly arranged a lift both ways, so that puts the mocker on me seeing how she is going, too!

I’ll have to get a rush on; it’s almost midnight, so I need to rush from here on.

I hastened into the wet room, mind all aflutter, thinking of having some bread and butter? Chinwagging to myself, a constant mutter? Concentration going, but the ankle ulcer looked a treat; so much calmer and no pain whatever! Cut myself twice shaving, but they were very minor. The session went very quickly, although I took the time to have two toe-stubbings.
Got the belated Blood Pressure done. Fair results all around! The body temperature was also a good reading! No complaints whatsoever today. Apart from the brain’s stubborn, at a loss status.
I got back on the computer to work on this blog, only to find I couldn’t find the new set of subtitles I’d done yesterday on CorelDraw? So another plan and route to go, gone! In the extreme, more time is lost.
Hours later, the Amazon delivery arrived, forgot all about it? Me? Yes! I’ll sort the photos of it later, sometime.

No, I’ll do it now.

Carer Valerie arrived; I showed her the new years supply of hemp capsules; I couldn’t read what was in them. Val had a look and told me Hemp and Omega 3, 6 & 9?
No, I’m not going to have time to finish this and post it! I’ll post the stand copied from Blogger. Then in the morning, I can get the Ode created.
Have to get something to eat soon.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out again; it was Josie, Bless her, bringing me the bananas to make up for the terrible, split-open mushy ones that Iceland delivered. How kind! I thanked her, took them into the kitchen and tried one straight away…

Oh, dear! These bananas, too, were bruised but not as bad as the others from Iceland were; they’d been split in transit. I opened another one to try again to satisfy my craving for an edible fruit… Look at the bottom photo, please. This one had brown-black pieces of… well, I’ve no idea what they were. I think they were given birth from the inside cause the inner part of the peel had traces of the same colour? Does anyone know why the bananas are affected in this way? Obviously, with the Iceland ones, it was just lousy packing and handling. But Josie bought these at the shop. Could it be the not weather? Or will it be put down as usual to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits? Or the Fata-Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?

I took a snap of the evening sky as I was prepping the late nosh. The first one had a different hue for a change, just after the sun had gone below the earth’s horizon.

Ten minutes later, I took the second picture. The rippled clouds were now showing. I seem to recall my neighbour Jack, who’d just arrived from Kingston with his family, telling me something about rippled clouds and what they portend. Tsk! But I need not have written that cause I’ve forgotten while typing it what it was they indicated…

I carried on cooking, and as I set out the food tray, the need for a wee-wee arose. I didn’t make it in time! Shucks! I had to strip and change into the night attire and put the trousers in the bucket to soak in disinfectant and liquid soap. I forgot to add this sort of occurrence in the Ode, so any whippersnappers can be reminded of what’s to come. And when it wants to. Hahaha!.

As I took this rather tasty-looking feast into the main (other) room, I gave myself a relatively superior toe-stubbing. I just smiled, laughed it off, didn’t swear or curse, and merrily continued to get settled.

Whippersnapper Advice in Ode

Medicines, tablets, injection and tincture…
Morning routine, you get the picture?
Bladder & bowels, things get murkier…
Definitely, much more messier!
Bleeding; things get nastier,
I don’t mean to be a minger…
Or even a panic-monger,
Whippersnappers must know of the danger,
Awaiting them, after they are a teenager,
Life will slow down; it gets drearier,
The disbeliever and the God-fearer,
We’ll all have to disappear…
Which can bring on fear…
But fret not, my dear…
Death can’t be as bad as living here!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock’s Thought Storms

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Introduction

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit…

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

Inchy’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have to the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

But is losing the battle; thus, he is about ready for his crypt.

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

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit; yes, I meant zit,

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

He’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

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

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have into the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

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

But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt

But the business went bust,

And I started to lust…

For a gal with a big bust…

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

I’m prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,

To be honest, I don’t see it fits into human culture…

Well, I used to be sociable, in fact, I was a campanologer,

Waking folks up Sunday morning… was my main pleasure,

Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!

 The locals warned me off, bellringing, with a fervour,

So, to avoid a pasting, my bell rang no more…

Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture…

So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,

Giving me so much time watching the sky and pareidolia!?

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

Mood Update:

While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got increasingly confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I did in between today’s efforts. I have to write this stuff on Word, and then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes, and I have to go through it all again, ever correcting! I got a little depressed with things, life etc… I gave up and transferred it to WordPress. It’s a true-life farcicalness with Doreen Dementia!

However, I had a bit of good fortune in taking a tumble while making a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. Cracking my left knee on a cabinet corner as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.

 I suddenly gleaned a previously unthought series of thoughts:

① Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is no chance in hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’

② As much as I miss my daily hobbles, walking to the shops, and in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ – You’ll just have to accept the inevitable, Chambers!

③ Walking into things may get less after I’ve had the eyes done. No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work, but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.

④ Should I snuff it before they are done well? Would it matter? Apart from an unknown to me, a battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who care… I shall not be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, (Or, can I?). So, good luck to them. ‘Fact!’

⑤ I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy. Hehe! But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and they really were genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’

⑥ That made me feel worse when I realised my current position… So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that rarely affects me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of isolation. ‘Fact!’

⑦ After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen and Phorpain gelled the knee, I made another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose… without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over.‘ Fact!’

⑧ There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although it didn’t cheer me up, my acceptance of things grew. 

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

So I got on with this blog’s making.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

LATE THOUGHT-STORMS!

As a young man, I thought I was a brainiac…
But that was sixty-odd years ago, way back,
I’ve been through periods of wine and Prozac,
Lived in a tent, then moved up to a wooden shack…
Cost of livings to high got to cut back!

I used to believe in Old Moore’s Almanac!
Bought a Robin Reliant, but I wanted a Cadillac…
That had to go because I got the sack,
Others had briefcases, me? A haversack!
I’ve never won the lottery, Monopoly, or blackjack…
Amazon, Facebook, eBay my computer track,
Maybe it’s because I’m a senile maniac?

TTFNski!