To give up and let whatever will be, be,
Inchcock needs help, an advisee…
His confidence is low, can’t hear nor see correctly,
Sorting timing and transport problems presently…
Memory and mind blanks are persistently…
Worryingly scary words, guilt at being so portly?
Can’t communicate… he’ll need help shortly…
He’d like assistance without condescension…
Problems with his hobbling obamulation,
Going out? His last two trips caused panic hortation,
He wee-weed himself, oh, vociferation!
Staying in now, he expects a call from the hospital,
Missing it could be fatal… to the depression, he’d hurtle!
His mind’s confused; it does justle and jostle …
Poor old sausage… he worries more than a little!
Before the stroke, he was no mathematician…
Now he needs the help of a physician…
What can he do? He struggles in making a decision!
Mind blanks and tumbling seem his new religion?
Appointment with the can’t test him yet, optician,
Cataract ops first to correct his vision.
Same with his local dentician…
Good job, he hasn’t got a cosmetician! (Haha!)
Small print from the NHS and bank in unison…
This means letters and texts have little comprehension,
Causing the lad even more worry and tension,
He really needs looking at by a diagnostician!
He drew his fretting to the attention of the warden,
Feeling embarrassed, to him begging, is alien…
Warden Deana arrived for a helping me out session,
Who arranged transport for me? My thanks and veneration!.
Then, he felt cared for and cheerier, no question!
So, time to fret over other things, like his fundoplication,
shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchies Fungal lesion…
And the Cataracts forthcoming double operation…
Hid new rear-end boils, a painful conglomeration…
Also, Inchcock’s ear-holes blockage and tintinnabulation…
Worry about his glaucoma and banks documentation,
Not to mention his bank accounts dwindling emancipation!
Deana was his Carpathia, saving lives on the Titanic,
Although Inchie still looks like he’s going brassic…
Her help today was something of a tonic…
His life no longer seemed so chronic!
He even started whistling, although not acoustic,
It’s never been his most vital attribute, singing…
Then again, he’s always been gently altruistic,
Soft and daft as a brush from a yearling…
He missed out on schooling and educationing.
He’s never grasped algebra, geometry or arithmetic,
Yet he’s always had a yearning, desire for learning…
As a lad, he’d double pneumonia, constantly sick…
I don’t know how he ever made a living?
He was well-known as a bit of a schmendrick!
Always getting beaten up or something…
Mother ever being taken down to local nick…
He was spotty, with the littlest ever ding-a-ling…
He took a lot of verbal and physical stick,
So it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t sing.
He coped with thumps and insults from many a bully?
He was a whimp who never answered aggressively…
He plodded on, hiding from being treated abusively…
There was little he ever achieved, ruefully…
Scared of water, he played hooky every Thursday…
That was the swimming lesson day, nobody noticed…
For two years of playing hooky, he was not missed,
Dad took him to the fair and visited a hypnotist…
I think it should have been to a psychiatrist,
The 11-plus, Mummy was on the run, so that he missed,
In meaningless employment, he languished,
But he grew up the shabbiest; he became a motorcyclist!
When old enough, he became an alcoholic, always pissed!
Oddly enough, it’s similar now… he’s still not missed,
He wears protection pants; he’s pissed at always pissing!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Aha, got some photos uploaded!
I believe this was Wednesday’s nosh. Of microwave veggie sausages, disappointing Icelands crispy chips (That weren’t), and red and orange tomatoes. Not too bad a plateful. Taste: 6.6/10.
Wednesday’s sunset. I’m finding it hard to stay up for the later evenings now the clocks have been forwarded (I’ve even got all on mine done now… Haha!) Variations on a theme, I’m calling it.
Thursday morning rising.
Wen to make a brew of Glengettie. And I spotted from the kitchenette window the rather heavy rain that was raining down,
I took this shot through the narrow bottom pane of glass, camera up against the window. Gave it a different aspect… which reminded me of Grizelda (Slight movement in the lower regions).
Took the last two a few hours later on Thursday.
Incidentally, at this point, I took my eleventh wee-wee of the morning. Cor, blimey!
Three more wee-wees and an hour or so later, I went to mash the second mug (Thompsons’ Punjana this time) of tea. I snapped this one of the houses in front of the tower block.
I must say, it came out reasonably well. An accurate representation of the local dwelling at the front of Woodthorpe Court flats.
The rain was a lot lighter at last, as it shimmers on the roadway of what I think is Elmswood Gardens… a sort of modern-day Coronation Street… perhaps not!
Afternoon Chestnut Way ends car park investigation. The parkers, the red-van-man, continued with his fear of white guidelines for parking between, then I went to the kitchenette to assess the choice of vehicle colours.
The evening Carer arrived, treats were offered. Got ready to get my head down and took what I guesstimate as my 24th wee-wee of the day. Hope things calm down soon!
Inchcocks advice and tips, for whippersnappers who think they will live forever, in diabolical ode. You Won’t!
It’s essential that you prepare, cause nobody else will care…
Unless you’re loaded, with plenty of cash to betroth, spare,
Have you spent it? Holidays, big car and you’ve safaried?
I’m just explaining how it will be for you, not to be morbid…
I don’t mind if my tips are not absorbed…
All a part of living is death, don’t be worried!
Oh, and there’s nothing to say that you should be hurried!
You may find that you could later, yourself bedrid…
You’ll need help if yer on yer own, and feeling dogeared,
Paying for Carers must not be feared…
New ailments will by now have reared…
You can expect this; it’s normal, not weird!
The family may call to help, your bank balance cleared,
Your reputation may diminish, become smeared…
Help might be harder to get; tell them you are disorientated…
You’ll make them a beneficiary, you’ll be genuflected!
They may make you a brew, say you’ve been neglected…
Then you may die of poisoning… they’ll be suspected!
If you own your own house, but not if it’s rented…
You’ll be treated well, as is to be expected…
The not seen for years crowd will be attracted…
Looking for the Will, but it won’t be protracted,
It’s essential to avoid them becoming malcontented…
Pick your times when to tell them you’re demented!
Them topping you, at all costs must be prevented,
Promise each one a little extra, don’t get resented!
Unless, of course, death will make you contented…
Tell them you’ve sorted their money, all consented…
But, remember who you’ve promised, you may get assaulted!
Or, at minimum, your face resculptured!
When the Doctor tells you, the end is anticipated…
You may wish they’d told you later, waited…
Unknown relatives calling will be prompted,
Is his name Keith, Tim, Richard or Ted?
Not that it matters, cause you could soon be dead!
In my young days, ailments that were lurking,
Were Polio, Double pneumonia, & getting a caning…
Not that I’m sorry, but of all, I was ailing…
We didn’t have to put up with too much burgling,
Sore throat, toothache? Meant saltwater gurgling,
We knew nowt about Cocaine or methamphetamine!
In my teens, there were very few ailments troubling,
Of course, romance took precedence; ah, romancing! ♥
I got into it, even went to the nightclub, dancing…
But I broke my leg one night, and I was only waltzing!
For Suzie, should I try dancing again? I was dithering…
But she left me when the Twist arrived, very belittling!
I met a gal from near Berlin… who really got me going!
Grizelda her name, big lass, solid-built and liked her gin…
But she had to go home; I was lonely again…
Oh, sorry, from the subject I am straying…
Not precisely an ailment, but I got shot while working…
Made redundant, unfair, and I wasn’t shirking!
Then the ailments started coming, flooding…
Duodenal ulcer, Arthur Itis, needed a new heart put in!
Reflux Roger, eyesight failing, and I lost my hearing…
Sadly, that was the end of motorcycling,
So I bought Robin Reliant, though it was exciting…
Sat in a car park, a lorry hit me, anger was igniting!
Then peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed…
Got shot again, then made redundanted,
Life started backpedalling…
But you can learn from my failing!
It’s no point in wailing…
Life is never plain sailing!
When I had the stroke, then I started wailing,
Hospital four weeks, then a home for the ailing…
For five weeks, it was appalling!
Things got worse, they lost my washing…
Gave me no food one day; everyone else was noshing?
I don’t think I’ll ever again go abseiling?
Weeks later, the eyesight faded more, blurring?
Went to see the optician… revealing…
Cataracts and glaucoma in both eyes, they so sting…
Saccades in the right eye never heard of this thing…
The NHS said there is an average of 48-weeks waiting!
Nothing much-going right, or compensating…
Weeks later, I went virtually deaf, hardly any hearing…
In either lughole… both channels were wax-filling…
Since which, four times a day, the olive oil dropping in…
The left worse than the right, ‘Grumbling!’
Not hearing my doorbell tune ringing…
Not the telephone’s ding-a-ling; this’s frustrating!
I took a tumble in the shower, ablutionalisationing,
You’ll get to accept these; they are a part of being…
Doddery, not having yet mastered the walking stick.
Fears and worries will need camouflaging…
Oh, and shopkeepers will try over-charging…
Or more likely short-changing…
With the arrival of Vascular Dementia Doreen coming…
Means problems with organising and remembering…
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley bothering…
Thought Storms, your brain will need defragging,
The kettles broke, and the toilet is not flushing…
Hopes for the future, you’ll find languishing!
Sock-Glide-Glenda, to be used after ablutioning!
Very good for bodily parts mutilating…
It can be avoided by not going out, staying in…
But you’ll have to go out to get your medications and gin?
I can assure you, in Sock-Glide-Glenda executing…
You’ll be injured, cut, bruised or exsanguinating!
I solved this painful problem by hibernating…
In the flat, the brain stopped activating…
No perambulating or hobbling… boring!
Although Carers called, to do the medicating…
Some of them like a little chinwagging,
I look forward to the talking Carer’ visiting!
So, Whippersnappers, this you must be expecting…
Keep your wits about you, when Glendaring,
Germolene, plasters and Phorpain gel nearby waiting,
A blood blister, cut, or bruise can really sting!
Worse if you have a boil or carbuncle erupting!
These odes are just tips; I’m not instructing…
Just future problems for you, detecting…
Please don’t see this ode as floccinaucinihilipilificating!
Overview on Inchcocks’ Life
I’ve led a super-fun life; I’m not complaining,
Lived life to the full, wind, sun or raining…
I’ve had so much sex; it’s been disorientating!
Earnt a fortune – I don’t mean to be drum-beating,
I’ve had battles but can’t remember taking a beating…
I’d got through life with faith, honesty and collaborating,
Oh, there’s just one other thing…
This last verse was all me fibbing!
Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh Ode Series
Mind Control… or lack of…
What my mind is conjuring, and weirdly producing,
Has a new idiosyncratic strain that needs introducing…
A previously unknown worrying sense of doom-accepting?
You know, a sort of go with the flow, with no coercing,
This new deliberation of mental compliance is almost piercing!
It’s still a new thing, so I’m not going to start whingeing…
No moaning, cursing, complaining or penancing…
But, the control of my thoughts is indeed decreasing!
A dream only last night, I was in a house, tippytoeing…
Floating, searching, smiling, and happily singing!
It was where my cyber-friends Lisa & Billum were living…
Although they couldn’t hear me, to them, I started chatting…
I was aware this could just not be happening…
I cooked them a chilli stew and started the garnishing…
Left them a note with the meal, and started going…
Outside I was suddenly solid again and segueing…
Along a pathway… the dream started subsiding,
I found myself in my wet room… wee-weeing!
The justice system, I can’t help renouncing…
Criminals, murders freed early, to rob and kill again!
No thoughts of family members or victims; disgusting!
No realisation that they have given anguish and pain…
Pathetic parole board, free killers again, mind shuddering!
Is it the judges, parole board or murderers that are insane?
True Love Lost…
In 1964, I visited Grizelda, hoping she was in the mood for servicing,
She was very good to me, in fact, she was astounding!
For hours we were in heaven, sweating, exhilarating!
For the next session, I was already praying and waiting…
Then shattering news! Grizelda was departing…
But she gave me one last amazing trouncing…
Thus, the end of our fantastic romancing…
Gawd, how I loved our coupling and connecting!
She went home to München… bloody sickening!
One day I might find an affaire du Coeur again?
I ordered two-blade razors for shaving,
I used Morrisons. What should I have been expecting?
I got 5-blade razors for my shaving…
So, did my teeth, de-nasaling and washing…
Started shaving, I found it challenging…
The results were a smidge discouraging,
I’d already got bleeding molars from teeth-brushing,
The razor? I cut my finger on the plastic sheathing,
A tiny cut near the ear hole. Didn’t half sting…
Applying the aftershave to stop the bleeding,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley started twitching…
Blood in the chest, floor and clothing…
As the Brute, I kept on sploshing…
I dropped the bottle on my foot; I was seething!
Farting about, I was very self-scathing…
But heroically carried on with my bathing!
Then walked into the doorframe, leaving…
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Advice Received this Week
The Ophthalmologist: Take this leaflet and read it. The print was too small to read it!
The Ophthalmologist: Remember to phone the Doctor in two weeks to ensure that the Cataract operations application papers have gone through and the process started. No mention of what to do if they hadn’t – And does she really expect me to remember to do this?
Carer: (On me losing the TV remote control, I’ve never found it) You should put it in the same place every time! Well, I actually do try to, so good advice. It’s not clear cut, but falling asleep with the regular nocturnal somnambulant activity almost every night. I often find I wake and turn on the TV, get the crossword book, or, judging by the crumbs found in the folds of my stomach fat, indulge in nocturnal nibbling. But only discover this in the morning after waking. At first, I blamed the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunting the hallways and lobbies searching for Inchcock. To create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, scare, worry and confuse me! Sometimes, the furniture has been moved too. Shame! So, as sound as the advice was, it wasn’t practical for Vascular Dementia Doreen or me.
Carers – Warden Dean & the Nottingham City Council Commercial Debt and Revenue Recovery lady, and Bank Clerk: (Re the hundreds of pounds 3 months unpaid carer Bills to Meridian). “Don’t worry!”?
Dentist: (On being asked for the umpteenth time to take all my remaining teeth out) “I might be able to save the top front one…” After three have fallen out, the two previous ones she could save having been filled twice, then pulled. My confidence is low!
LookAfterYourEyes.org: The operation usually takes from 15 to 45 minutes. It is carried out under local anaesthetic, so you will be awake but not have any sensation in the area around your eye. Throughout surgery, you will hear the ophthalmologist explaining what they are doing, and you may see some vague movements around your eye. The ophthalmologist will make a tiny cut in your eye to remove the cataract and insert a plastic replacement lens. You will not usually need stitches, but your eyes will be covered to protect it from knocks after the operation.
You will be allowed to go home the same day, but you should have someone to go with you and look after you for 24 hours after surgery. Who?
If this means a Meridian carer, it would cost me a minimum of £440 for the 24 hours! Arghhh!
Just how does one go about declaring bankruptcy? Is it easy?
Part of the Inchies Make Them Laugh In Odes Series
They incarcerate the wealthy youngsters here now, aged only 50, a pity,
Cause with my handicaps, now I’m not so nifty,
Then there’s my ticker, neuropathy, deafness and cecity,
But I’m not jealous, bothered or show any causticity,
I have Whoopsidangleplops, Accifauxpas and await the next atrocity,
To survive in here, you must not show any mordacity,
Indeed, you must forget to display any animosity!
Anyone arriving wishing to survive will find the tips and advice in ode below, of some value, I hope… Good Luck!
WHAT TO EXPECT, DO AND SURVIVE
Put to the back of your mind, hopes, plans or anything ambitious,
With leaking windows… it helps to know about being amphibious,
If you are old or ill, some of the Carers are delicious!
Get in with them for any chance of being auspicious!
Resist doing anything whatever that could be audacious!
Make sure you cannot be considered cretaceous,
For depressions in here are somewhat enormous,
No matter what you do or say, it’ll be classed as contentious,
Don’t ever mention the balcony’s winds being blusterous,
Or not being able to hear the fire alarm being hazardous,
Cause they’ll fit you a pillow shaker alarm, it’s not desirous,
It runs on Wi-fi, the false alarms are regular and continuous,
Advice for the intercom and heaters are both contradictious,
Understanding them, you need to be intelligent and perspicacious,
Act a thicko with thick skin, should certainly be advantageous,
One benefit, mind, if you are ill enough, the nurses are curvacious!
You’ll be too old, so no opportunities to try to get amorous!
Contemptuousness and sarcasm seem to be contagious,
Another thing, silence can prove somewhat meritious,
Forget about being doing right and being conscientious,
Best to concentrate, on just staying alive and conscious,
Faux pas and Whoopsiedangleplops, try to keep uncomplicitous
Tending towards being garrulous can be jeopardous,
To anyone not wanting to be sneered at by those sequacious,
Never show signs of being boisterous,
Best to stay looking bored and innocuous,
They like it that way, and when you get on the wrong bus!
No need to worry if you are regularly flatuous,
I assure you that affliction affects 90% of us!
If the nurse calls cause your bottom’s furunculous,
Grit your teeth, and try to look hebetudinous!
Try not to overdo the acting humorous,
Never gossip about anything calumnious!
Or you may find yourself considered complicitous!
Part Of Inchcock’s Make Em Laugh-In-Ode Series
TFZers Planning their Shopping Expedition after lockdown?
Inchcock’s Tips & Advice on gerrin’ o’der, fer Whippersnappers
Saturday 16th January 2021
Finnish: Lauantaina 16 Tammikuuta 2021
01:35hrs: I slowly stirred back into life, of sorts. A sudden, almost panic began, from somewhere I thought that something was wrong in the kitchen! No smells, I don’t think. I struggled out of the c1968 recliner, and I limped to the kitchenette but found nothing untoward, and I had a good look around, windows shut, taps not running… was it a dream?
I was not properly balanced, so I took my time and returned to the main junk room. Thought were coming pretty fast into the brain, but leaving at the same rate of knots.
I got my Myanmar, (Burmese) made zip-up jacket on. Changed into the reading glasses, had a weak wee-wee, washed my hands, and started the Health Checks. The Chinese made Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer reading was fine, at 36.6°c.
♫ I really can’t stay, Baby it’s cold outside, I gotta go away, Baby it’s cold outside, This evening has been, Been hoping that you’d dropped in, So very nice, I’ll hold your hands they’re just like ice ♫… Sorry about that, I got carried away!
Pleasingly, the Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer SYS was not too high compared to earlier readings, at 156. And, the pulse was steady at 85.
I nipped back into the kitchen to get a made-up bottle of spring water and lime cordial.
I opened the window, Gawd it was cold out there… (♫ I really can’t stay, Baby it’s cold outside, I gotta go away, Baby it’s cold outside, This evening has been, Been hoping that you’d dropped in, So very nice, I’ll hold your hands they’re just like ice ♫…) Sorry about that, I got carried away!☺
I snapped this photograph of Chestnut Way’s car park in front of the building, below. Back to the computer, taking another weak-wee-wee en route, and back on the computer.
I determinedly pressed on with the updating of the Friday Diary. Got it finished, although it took me longer than usual with interruptions to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, on and off repeatedly for periods of a few seconds, up to a full minute. But I resisted going into a Smug-Mode, after yesterday’s experiences.
All done at long last Hurrah!), then I posted it off to WordPress, emailed the link. Had a weak wee-wee, washed, returned and Pinterested some bits, and went on the Facebooking updating on the TFZ site, then the Woodthorpe Heights. Spent a good while on there, and went on the WordPress-Reader section. Had a weak-wee-wee. Washed my hands and went on the WP commenting.
Belatedly, I made a start on this post. Stopped to make a brew, have a weak-wee-wee, wash my hands, and took the morning medications (It was grand to be able to take an extra pain-killer, thanks to the unknown, kind donor, who posted some through my door yesterday, thanks again!)
I got an inspiration to write the Advice funny at the top of this page, well, second graphic down. I made it up and did it with a graphic. It’s nowhere near my best work, but for some reason, I found it so zanily humorous, so kept it in. I hope people like it and get a laugh. If anyone does, I’ll offer it to the Tate Gallery for a modest fee. Hahaha!
I lost a lot of time already with my getting sidetracked, but did it again, and went on a hunt for Alt codes to use. I found a few and put them on the Notepad for later.
Hello, some more comments have come in, I’ll have a decker. Just the two, replied to them and went to make another mug of tea, and had another weak-wee-wee! I reckon I’ve missed a Furesomide in the medicational muddle?
I then went on CorelDraw to get some template graphics done, I’m well behind with them. Crockledimdogs! Another visit to the wet room, Blimus!
Back to CorelDrawing, and within a minute into working, and the door chimes rang out.
It was the postman, bringing the Amazon sold razors. A box of 200 razors in packs of five. Outstanding value, too.
Back to the CorelDrawing.
: Having done only one graphic, CorelDraw Problems, or rather, I created CorelDraw problems! Or, maybe a more accurately, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters caused me CorelDraw problems! I lost the document palette! The nerve ends died as I was trying to move the palette, and I lost it altogether. I was getting more and more frustrated, I could not remember how to move palettes with the mouse, spent hours trying this and that in the options and customisation sections, getting nowhere with it.
Then the landline burst forth flashing. Sister Jane, calling. I took this photo a couple of years ago of her, in the Nottingham Slab Square.
We had a long chinwag, ashamedly I could not concentrate properly with worrying about the CorelDraw problems. I learnt what I was doing wrong, as is natural when she calls me, Big Sister, you see. (Hahaha!) I
was eating the wrong foods, going to bed too early, and other things I can’t remember,
In the morning, I added this photo of her and Pete’s visitors in their garden. A family of Squirrels that have taken up residence nearby. They call twice every day for their treats on monkey nuts.
Back to the nightmare with the computer. I went on the web asking for help, and it took me three hours of differently formulated questions, to find a DVD that helped with the problem. Another hour of farting about getting it wrong, and suddenly I got the palette back, but it was empty!
I lost more time trying to sort this out and gave up. I was frustrated, and so wee’d off! And the weariness was coming on.
I gave up on computing, my hopes and plans destroyed! Ah, well, I turned off the computer and got some nosh sorted out. As I got the Ghilli-Con-Carne, red peppers and tomatoes in the saucepan, oh dearie me…
All of the Peripheral Neuropathy related ailments all kicked-in, well not all of them. No leg dancing, loss of balance but SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), Shaking Shaun, and Cathy Cartilage gave me what for!
A nasty bout, this one, but thank goodness it was a short one. I was growing more tired than ever now. But I pressed on and got the meal served up. I overdid the quantity a bit, and couldn’t eat all of the rolls, but destroyed the CCC and potatoes. A taste-rating was a worthy 8/10.
Washed and got the jammie-bottoms on, and down in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner, and turned on the TV, I can’t remember what it was I was going to watch, but I failed to anyway – blissfully! Off into the land of Sweet Morpheus, I drifted in no time at all. Zzzz!
An hour or so later, I sprang wide-awake, as if I’d just had an electric shock! The realisation that the Prescriptions were being delivered today bounding about in my head! Sheer alarm and panic gripped my and hastened by the bulbous wobbly body from the recliner, with the intentions of getting to the front door post-haste to see if they had been put through the door for me, as it was well past the normal delivery time.
Unfortunately, as I got in the hallway, I instead hastened down on my knees to the floor, and the right leg knee, (Cartilage Cathy’s) gave way. There was no time for self-pitying, I hauled my enormous girth back up onto my feet…
And I crumpled down again! This time, I crawled into the wet room and dolloped a load of Phorpain gel all around the patella. Then used the shower chair to get my bulk back up on my feet again. All the time, worrying about the prescriptions milling about in my head.
I got to the flat’s door, there was not anything outside or inside medicine wise. Had he or she been and left? Will they be coming later? I put the facemask on, in case anyone did come, and thought I’d check the mobile and email to see if the chemist had been and had sent a message… Panicking a bit here, but still found time to fit a spot of nervousness in about the CorelDraw problem! Come one worry – Come all! Hehe!
Moments later, the intercom rang out, it was Carrington Pharmacy owner, Deepak BSc Pharm Hons, delivering my prescriptions for me. For once, thank heavens he was late, else I might have been asleep otherwise, Phew! He dropped the prescription pack in a box, on the floor for me, and I thanked him. Nice to be told I was not looking very well. Hehehe! Bless him.
Once I took them to the kitchen to sort out, I realised that Cathy Cartilage was really giving me some stick, although it was my own fault for falling on her twice! Flibbledonkackles!
Ah, well, life may not be exactly suant, and I may be in pain, CorelDraw is worrying me, but after a quick Silver-Lining Search: Things could be much worse. I got the prescriptions delivered, Cathy Cartilage is already getting less painful, I had a marvellous CCC for dinner, Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna have both been kind to me today. Yep, things are good! Who am I kidding!
Back down in the recliner, it took a while, but sleep did return.
♥ Paradise! ♥
Sunday 20th December 2020
23:55hrs: I didn’t really wake from my slumber, per se, as I never got to sleep properly. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up so many times in one night in my life. A minute here, a few in dreamland, and almost shooting awake so often. Very annoying, and not helpful at all!
After taking the missed evening medications, the first thing I did, was to get the Saturday post updated and posted off, well, after a wee-wee of course. No Glengettie brewing, washing or even catching my balance. Not going to be a good day, methinks!
I got on with updating the Saturday Diary, it didn’t take long cause so little happened. Hehe! Here are the photos of the meals that I missed off on the blog. (Sad, innit?)
The brekkers, Super Noodles with added made-up gravy, and a few bread-thins to dunk in the suffusion! Then the minced beef and potato letters. I made a cock-up of the three-letter word I wanted to put on it, though. It should have been ‘OOPS’ to mock how the day ended for me. It wasn’t until I uploaded the photo that I realised I’d put Poo (I ate the S’, but still, there’s a connection I suppose?
The SYS was higher again!
Onto the computer again, and then needed to respond to the call to the Porcelain Throne. Off to the wet-room, hoping for a more comfortable session today.
I got settled on the Throne, and another wee-wee burst out first, and a lengthy, determined effort of the FBL (Forceful-Blasting-Lengthy) style it was too! As soon as it came to an abrupt end, the rear end evacuation started of its own accord.
Another massive Torpedo slowly escaped. However, it was not as long, bloody, or painful as yesterdays, I’m glad to report!
As I was about to stand up, the wee-weeing recommenced. It was an SPL (Steady-Persistent-Lengthy) mode, with a lot of CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling) following. I cautiously waiting a while after the motion and dribbling had finished, in case a third bout started.
No one had warned me about how things in the human waste removals bladder and bowel departments would get to be so embarrassing, harassing, cringe-making, frustrating and complicated, not to mention so painful, when one gets older. Or how tremendously easy it will be, to get your medications mixed-up. Or, the selection of ailments and disabilities one may collect in one’s dotage. Like vicious haemorrhoids, new ticker-valve fitted, duodenal ulcers, going deaf, arthritis, cramps, peripheral neuropathy, colour-blindness, a stroke, lack of mobility, all your favourite foods will be barred by the doctors: Brassica [brussel sprouts, kale, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower, turnip, collard, watercress etc.] Sweetcorn, cranberries, cakes, biscuits etc. Not to mention diabetes, reflux valve sticking, Nerve ends and neurotransmitters dying, to mention a few that I have knowledge of.
Still, it might be more benevolent not to mention it. Especially while the pandemic is on, and now the New-Strain of Covid-19 being discovered, that can transmit more easily, cause more serious symptoms or render the vaccine useless. (Mr Google told me this)
Still, yer doesn’t like to complain does yer? Huh!
Back to the computer, to start this blog going. The wee-wees were increasing in frequency, and reducing in power and volume each visit. I neglectedly got the Saturday blog posted to WordPress, emailed the link, Pinterested a few snaps, and visited the TFZ and Winwood Heights Facebook pages. Then on the WordPress Reader, and did some comment reading and replying on WordPress.
I made a mug of Glengettie tea, then began making notes to prompt me later on the events as they had occurred.
Worryingly, am almost instant headache came on (and seems reluctant to go away, but later did ease off greatly, Phew!) and Dizzy Dennis paid a few short visits over the next hour or so.
Head down doing updating and graphics in between. (I’m adopting an industrious mode!) Hahaha!
As I was starting to think about what I had in for Josies Sunday meal, the left eye suddenly became stiff-lidded, and very itchy. Ah, well, I thought, I’ll get the ablutions done and that will free-up any gink that might have gotten into the eye, no pain with it, but it blurred the vision too much for me to stay on the computer anyway.
I think I found myself whistling contentedly as I got the zip-up jacket in the bowl to soak wash, then I went to get the ablutions done.
All was going well until it came to shaving, and what I saw in the shaving mirror.
Jimminy Cricket! Now I saw what the blurring and itching were all about.
I did notice that the ankle ulcer had almost disappeared, and the pasty feet looked much better.
I hastened through the ablutioning and got the maroon jacket washing and hung wet as speedily as I could. I intended to ring the NHS 111 for some advice about the eye.
I rang the 111 number. A recorded voice said something, and the music started.
Recorded questions, with keypad numbers to press in answer was gone through. Back to the music!
Another set of recorded questions came on, all about Coronavirus, tests, symptoms etc. that went on for ages. I’m not sure I heard the questions correctly a couple of times, so I guessed which option to press. Back to the music!
A live lady came on the line and began questioning some more. Nice sounding pleasant, patient woman, with my stuttering, and went through all my details. A methodical list of prompted questions and a set of inquiries as to what happened, then my medical history (that took half an hour).
The lady left to talk to her medical clinician. Colin Cramps was giving me some hassle with holding the phone for such a long time with the arm bent. Back to the music!
Then the lady returned to eye-related questions, and returned to talk to her advisor came on. Back to the music!
The patient, the kind lady, returned and told me an ambulance would be with me in 20 minutes. I was to get all my medications together to take with me. I thanked her kindly and went into a semi-panic mode immediately.
I called at Josie’s to explain I would not be able to do her Sunday lunch. Poor gal had a shock when she saw the eye. Told me to let her know how things are when I return from the hospital. I rushed back to the flat and started thinking about the things I might need to take with me, but I didn’t get far, the intercom rang out a few minutes later. I buzzed them in, they were confirming I needed an ambulance, then returned to the vehicle to get the gear. So I waited near the intercom panel, and they buzzed again and were in the flat telling me to sit down straight away, so I did.
The two paramedics did various tests, and among them, the SYS came out, as the man said; ‘Perfect SYS at 154. This always happens, I get a reading earlier like today of 176, and the medicals get 154 a few hours later?
Off to the Queens Medical Centre, in a wheelchair, so that might be fun getting back home without the three-wheeled walker-guide! The ambulance man took my keys and fetched the walking stick for me from the flat.
At least I had got something right, the Paramedic told me on the way, (had a nice natter en route too!) that the call came through and they were now late getting their lunch-break, but he was smiling as he told me. Adding, ‘We get a £10 bonus if we are late getting our break. I replied, “You’re welcome lads!” thinking it was funny. They didn’t look amused. Oh, dear!
I was dropped off in the Eye Casualty & Laser Clinic waiting room. Where I waited in the wheelchair.
Shortly afterwards, a man came to me, and I could not understand a word of what he was saying. I couldn’t use facial expressions or lips as a guide, cause of the facemask. Not the foggiest idea what he was saying, I asked him to repeat himself a few times, and this did not please him at all.
No pen or crossword book, they lay in the three-wheeler guide bag at home, Humph! But I had put the little Canon Camera in my pocket. I sneaked it out twice during the wait to get seen. Only in the receptions area, among the do’s and don’t list on the wall, was taking photographs, filming or recordings.
I only saw one other patient all the time I was there.
I enjoyed hearing the staffs laughter and banter in the background.
A young lady arrived, and again hearing things was not easy, but she was patient with me not hearing and my Stuttering Stephanie problem. She asked questions there in the reception. Examined the dodgy eye and put some drops in it. She left saying she’ll be back – an Arnie fan no doubt, Hehehe!
An hour or so later, another lady arrived and wheeled me into a room, running the wheel of the deckchair into her foot. Poor thing! Oh, I put deckchair… I meant a wheelchair. She did the vitals checks again, I asked her what the SYS was, 164.
Back to the waiting room. Fell asleep. Woken up by the nice lady, and she wheeled me into her room. All the checks were done again, the BP, the… I’ve forgotten what its called, where they stick the stickers on around you arms legs, chest etc. I asked this lady what the SYS reading was, down to 154 now! That’s good in two hours.
Clambering to get my blubbery body in a wobbly chair to get my chin on the examination machine, I clouted my left leg on a metal corner. Excrement! Gonna be a bruise there in the morning. Humph!
The clinician said after checking the eyes thoroughly that I had a burst, a blood vessel. She was ordering some Chloramphenicol antibiotic Eye Drops, and Carmellose eye drops. (I couldn’t remember the names obviously, I took them off of the cartons in the morning) One to used five times a day and kept in the fridge, the other four times a day. (Instant fretting mode-adopted) With the medications, tablets capsules, medicines and creams I’m already on, all I could do that time was get more confused and acknowledge that Accifauxpas are certain to be in the offing, now!
I was wheeled out to the waiting area again. An hour or so later, the lady returned and put in one of the drops, saying she would return (Arnie?) and put the other drops in later.
Two taxi ambulance people arrived to collect me and take me home. (That was a wonderful surprise!) It was a battle to convince them not to kidnap me. (Chortle!) Getting the message over to them, that I was waiting for some eye drops to be put in, was not going very well…
The situation was saved when the eye lady came to put the drops in the bloodied eye. Getting the chair into the ambulance and I clouted the left leg again.
Didn’t bother me much, I still had the thoughts of how I’m going to cope with all the medications without getting them wrong, buzzing around in my head! Still, the woman drove, and the man chatted to me from the front side seat. Nice chap, used to be a doorman-bouncer. We both had a verbal session about the SIA and our similar thoughts on them. They brought me up in the chair and told me I had to sit down in the recliner and to stay there for an hour at least. I wasn’t arguing with them. I thanked him and asked if he’s like a can of something, nope! He shot off, and I was so confused and tired now, it was well gone my usual head-down time.
I called on Josie, to advise her I was back and say how sorry I was to miss doing her nosh.
I hobbled into the wetroom, to take a snap in the better lighting of the condition of the eye. Do you like my waterproof Andy Cap? Haha!)
When I saw the orangey marks running down from the eye-socket, I wondered what the heck it was. (It just shows you how thick I can be!) It must have been the eye drops dropping down, and into my mouth by the look of it? Tired as I was, after washing, I got the drops stored away, the antisocial one in the fridge as instructed. And had a look at the contents list of both bottles.
The spell-checker missed it, but being the well-educated wordsmith wot I am, I caught it! I meant to put ‘Antibiotic’ in the sentence above, not antisocial. Ahem! Gesundheit!
Anyway, I investigated what was in these drops:
Chloramphenicol antibiotic Eye Drops – Manufactured in Greece, Contain Chloramphenicol 0.5%w/v. Borax, boric acid, phenylmercuric nitrate and purified water. MR Google says it is a yellowish-brown, so as per the above photo, I think that is the one that caused me to involuntarily drink some Chloramphenicol, borax, boric acid, phenylmercuric nitrate and purified water? But it’s bound not to be harmful if they use it in the eyes and ears… innit?
Manufactured in the Republic of Ireland: The Carmellose (Evolve®) eye-drops contains Carmellose (Carboxymethyicelulose sodium), Glycerin, Sodium Chloride Dihydrate, Potassium Chloride, Magnesium Chloride Hexahydrate, Boric Acid, and water.
Of course, once I’d read this information, I was fully au fait with things and understood all of it. Mmm!
Now all-in and shattered, I made an easy to prepare imitation meal.
But I had to take these shots of the pretty yet daunting cloudy evening sky, while the pasties and halloumi, stick cooked in the oven.
I poddled for a wee-wee and thought to myself, I been at Hospital or travelling to and from, for over six hours, and didn’t need a single release? How’s that then?
I got the plate of meatballs, beef pasties and halloumi sticks served up. No trimmings, I wasn’t up to being fancy tonight.
But, Flaming Nora, it went down well! With the eye still clouding and itching to the point of hurting occasionally, it took me a while to get it eaten, but eat it all, I did! The pots of strawberry and Lemon mousse never stood a chance. Haha!
I actually remembered to take the evening medications, but I still feel a lack of confidence in getting the new medications done without making an error. Fice a day drops, three a day tablet pots, four a dau poo-softener medicine, as and when needed Furesomides… Oy, Oy, Oy!
TFZers at the Gym – Yee-Haa! ♥
Saturday 14th November 2020
Croatian: Subota 14 Studenog 2020
0025hrs: Boy, did I wake up in a huff? I was grumpy, reluctant to move, to the point of clinomania setting in.
The brain wasn’t very lucid but retained a depressional outlook. And then a rare morning Thought-Storm started! As fast as the next worry, fear or semi-panic came along, I’d forgotten the previous one… Oh, dear!
I must have been dreaming something of a disturbing nature. There are soupçons of memory of the dream, but patchy and made no sense. (Mind you, I should be used to that by now, ‘things making no sense’, especially since the stroke.
Hey-Ho! The need for a wee-wee saved me. That helped concentrate the mind a little. By the time I had struggled out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy, yet tottery, rickety recliner, and caught my balance, the Porcelain Throne was required as well.
As I hobbled to the wet room, the same thing happened as yesterday morning, and a swift, sharp Dizzy Dennis attack, had me grabbing for support as the balance went again. But this time, I stayed on my feet and didn’t hit the wristlet alarm against the door and set it off. Phew!
I got on the Throne, and the releasing of the wee-wee blasted out of the bladders own accord. As it hosed away, the bowels made a tiny movement, and that was that; so I needed to apply some pressure to get it started, it was taking ages to encourage things along, and I had a go at the crossword book while waiting in agony. Once the action began, and it took a while to start, I was astounded at erm; how long things felt, painful all the way through, but such a relief!
I rose to inspect and note the state of the passed item, to record it in the Poo-chart for the clinic. Flipping-Thunderation! It was massive, bloody and a very light brown colour? I was pretty sure that the blood was from poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids, made a note of condition, and set about with the stick, breaking up the gigantic torpedo to allow it a chance of being flushed away!
The first flush cleared it all away, amazing! Anticepticated the rear end, and applied the ‘Care’ haemorrhoid ointment (that stung a bit, Haha!) Well, that stirred the mind and cleared the fogginess a bit!
Of to the kitchenette with the camera, to take a shot of the morning view, and get the Health Checks done and recorded. Then made a brew of Glengettie.
But could I find the camera lens? No! I spent ages searching and ferreting around looking for it. All with no success! For some reason, this got me going with the self-hating pattern. So annoyed at myself!
The blood-pressure SYS, had now gone up to 189?
I assume due to the hassle and upset already suffered this morning, the angst? One of the highest ever readings this was, I think I have had a score of 189 twice before?
The temperature with the Made in China thermometer, was a much betterer level though, at 36.4°c.
I took two of the Dioctyl®, to hopefully soften things in the Porcelain Throne arena. Hahaha!
Then I came across last night’s medications, still, in the lid I use, untaken, not used, missed off… What an Eizel I am!
I kept stopping what I was doing to have more repeated hunts for the missing escaped lens cap. No success, of course!
Then I did a right IDIOT (Inchcock-Daft-Insane-Outlandish-Thing), perhaps something that is unique to those nearing the end of sanity; I got the template (this one) made up, and forgot all about not having finished yesterdays diary yet! And carried on writing. It took me several hours for this to dawn on me! I stopped working on this and went to update the Friday blog. At the same time, I was Feeling an even bigger nincompoop than ever!
To make things worse than ever, as I got the blog opened, I got the dizzies. I was out of sync and hazy for a couple of minutes or so.
I went slowly and carefully onto the balcony for some fresh air and returned feeling physically a lot better (Note, I didn’t mention mentally?) The entire bottom half of the blog I’d done, was completely wiped off? I couldn’t work out what I’d done, or what’d gone wrong!
Frustratingly, I had to do it all again! Are you sure today isn’t the thirteenth? Tsk! While trying to sort out what I’d missed, my inorthography and concentration had gone to pot as well. The worst it has ever been, caused mostly by my memory problems, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, I imagine.
Eventually, I got it finished and posted. Pinterested some snaps. I emailed the link. Did some Commenting on WordPress, then I did the Facebook. As I was planning to go on the WordPress reader;
Peed-off altogether now! So I tended to the ablutions. Hoping the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet will be back on afterwards.
- I got in the wet-room and the Porcelain Throne No.2, was required. Well, almost a delight this time! No crossword puzzling needed, the evacuation ground its way out a little quicker this time – no bleeding at all, but a little messier. It was requiring two refills of the tanks and three flushes to clear things away. Well pleased with this!
- The teeth-cleaning went well also. No bleeding, and not too painful at all!
- The shaving was cut-less! Yep! Not a single nick!!! (I can claim no victory in this, I but need to thank SSS and Nicodemus for withholding any attacks whilst the preening took place!
- The showering was a weak area for good luck (Tsk!) Two Dizzy Dennis visits ended up with two bangs on the right arm, one on the grab bar, and the other on the power box, which caused a little skin scraping.
- A tiny few second Involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Pete Schuhplattler dance, caused me to clout the right ankle ulcer against the metal chair leg, which enflamed it a smidge, but nae-bother really, it looked worse than it was.
- The new growth that started to come up on the right ankle a couple of days ago had now disappeared?
- However, I seem to have another growth coming through now, on top of the right foot, a greeny-grey one? Ah-well!
- The drying off and medicationalisationing went so well, and with such a lack of pains, I kept wondering if I’d done them or not! Great!
I doubt if I’ll have such a good session again, if at all! A Smug-Mode could not be resisted!
Not that a man such as myself, with my heroic, brave, devil-may-care approach, and good looks, my statuesque, muscular, young body, was bothered, of course. Cough, cough!
I returned to the computer to find the internet working again. I got on with updating this blog also, the rain started to fall again, and it seemed to get so sold suddenly.
It was drizzling again.
I investigated the emails for messages and any notifications about the Coronavirus figure locally. The past few days, they don’t seem to be informing us as much. I opened the ‘YourArea’ email and had a nosey. It took me a lot of searching, but I did find this one for the UK, on the BBC News Site.
Gone even darker now, but the rain is lighter, not that it matters to Prisoner 72, Woodthorpe Criminal Court. Hehehe!
Made a brew and took another Dioctyl® capsule.
I don’t want to go back to the rock-hard torpedos! I found this comparison chart.
Ah, that’s the one I was looking for. They seem to put a seven-day running total on nowadays. There must be a benefit of this, but I wouldn’t guess at it.
I sorted out some small bags of waste and got them in the box on the trolley, then added the recycling, and glass jars.
Got them stacked up, and took them to the waste chute, dropped the little bags down, and then caught the lift down to the ground floor, out through the lobby, got the glass in the green bin, recycling bag in the big bin, and returned into Woodthorpe Court through the lobby, into the elevator and back up to the 12th-floor, and into the flatlet.
And all without seeing a soul to chinwag or talk to! But on the bright side, a rarity indeed – not a single LOB (Loss-off-Balance) or Dizzy Dennis visit going out or coming back! I distinctly recall thinking of this as I struggled into the flat with the 3-wheeled walker guide.
Then had a bout of LOB & DD immediately afterwards! Humph!
Back to graphicationalisationing on CorelDraw, and Dusty Springfield emanated from the doorbells.
It was the J Sainsbury delivery lady with the food order for me. The same girl as last time and I noted she’s come early, not like last week when she was nearly 2-hours late (Not through ant fault of own).
She filled the box and bag with the goods, a lot of stuff today it seemed.
I somehow got the big box through to the kitchen with the bags, then got the stuff stored away.
I got the bacon ready, potato farls in the oven, warmed up some canned peas, cut up a tomato or two, sliced a Jenny-provided pickled egg, I spread some milk roll bread with Lurpak, the meal was getting to look tasty before it was prepared… a.
There was a let-down though, the new electric can-opener would not work!
But I soon got to work gobbling up the meal, and made a decent job of it, too! But the Irish potato farls I’d undercooked a smidge, but still, the meal got a Taste Rating of 7/10. Maybe back to Chilli tomorrow, it depends on what Josie has, mind.
Medications were taken, then I got down in the recliner. TV on… Zzzz!
Monday 27th April 202
Hawaiian: Poakolu 27 lā ʻApelila 202
03:40hrs: I stirred after five hours head down, and about four hour’s sleep in periods of about ten-minutes of duration. In a Zombie-like frame of mind, I eased my massive ever-growing bulk of a flabby-bellied body out of the c1968 recliner. Picked up the walking stick, and made my way to the wet room for a Porcelain Throne session. Gawd blimey, the uncut toenails hurt, making it hard hobbling!
I was gobsmacked at the evacuation. It was all over in a couple of minutes, and nowhere near as bloody as yesterday. It’s still a bit painful mind. Well-pleased with this start to the day, I took a photo of the pale pins (legs) but found that Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were on strike again, and this time the shaking and lack of sense of touch contact, were minuscule. Hence, the picture was blurry, not a good one! It seemed like and felt to me, that they might be just coming back on-line.
As I made my way, cursing the pain from the toenails, into the kitchen, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis) began, what was to be a day-long session of giving me and my knees a lot of grief! However, Duodenal Donald, although still with me, was vastly less bothersome. Swings and roundabouts?
I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. Got the medications out and taken, and spent a few moments ponderisationing on the day’s expectancies. I find myself in a quandary over the Iceland orders, one is due today, and another, possibly for tomorrow.
Arthur Itis’s replacing Duodenal Donald as King-Pin in the pain stakes was okay for me at the moment, a change is as good as a rest. But, if Donald does start up again alongside Arthur, and the toenail pain, things will be too much to cope with. Fingers crossed!
I got the computer on and did some comment reading and answering. Then onto the WordPress reader, some brilliant stuff on there this morning. Then tackled the updating of the Sunday diary. This did not take too long, with so few photographs, and with it being a little shorter with nowt much happening.
I made a mash of Glengettie tea, had a rather forceful wee-wee, washed and got on with creating this page. Out of prepared graphics now, so I must find time to get some more done on CorelDraw later.
The mobile phone rang out, it was on well, and genuinely ancient, 1965 Hopewells E-Plan, worn, pot-marked, desk close to me, and the noise made me jump. Hehehe!
I investigated the phone message and found out it was from Iceland, concerning today’s afternoon delivery.
As I checked the indicated email with details of the changes, I began to hiccup, and they lasted for two hours or more?
Shame about the changes, no Imperfect Chips in stock, my favourites as well, am I lucky or what? Tsk! No kitchen towels, and no bread thins. Things are not as bad as they seem though.
I have some cobs in the freezer to take out and defrost. I’ll do it now while I think of it.
All done, I put them in the fridge to thaw slowly until needed. And, of course, if the accidentally made Iceland order for tomorrow should arrive, they might have some Naturally Imperfect chips on it? I can’t remember if I ordered any, but probably not, though, thinking I was going to get some today.
With the long hurting toenails, Arthur Itis’s knees, Duodenal Donald, and the hiccups accompanying me, I put the kettle on the boil and opened the window of the kitchen. Took some photographs intending to show you how green things looked this morning.Stunning colours.
How I would love to be able to get a meander through the tree copses, I bet it smells beautiful in there, even with the dog muck, drug needles and empty beer cans and bottles. Sorry for myself? Bitter? Jealous? Me? Mmm! Hehehe!
Made another brew of Morrison’s Assam tea, and back to the computer. I went on the Morrison site, and added kitchen towels, sourdough muffins, soap; they only had Cussons Imperial in packs of six left, and washing up liquid. Of course, this order is still a week or so away, and merely adds to my Conrad Confusion ailment! Haha!
I went on the TFZer Facebooking page, I always enjoy this. Got carried away a bit, I must make a start of doing the graphics – and not forget about the Iceland delivery coming. Back in a bit.
I didn’t get far, I forgot about the ablutions, so tended to them. Well, they went well for a change again! The dropsies added up to only four! Brilliant! The toothbrush, the soap, the showerhead and the body spray can. I did well there! No, knocking anything over or off of owt, no toe-stubbings either! Smugeth Mode Engaged!
The old ankle ulcer was prominent again and developed a gorgeous light brown colour instead of its usual blue-red shade. The veins were bulging a tad.
Well, it was something interesting at least, Hahaha!
All dried off, I could feel a different pain in the right ankle and foot? I seem to have got new growths as well. What with the nails giving hassle walking and the latest whatever it is, I may never wear socks again, too painful! Humph!
I freshened up and smelling all nice again, and the legs almost looking decent, I poddled carefully cause of the poor toes, to make a brew and take the midday medications.
I almost made a start on some graphicalisationing at last, but the intercom rang, it was the Iceland delivery coming early. I let the chap in, and waited inside the door for him to arrive, and shouted through the narrow gap from a reasonable distance, that there was tipple for him on panel shelf in the lobby. He shouted out his appreciation and departed. I waited to hear the end door shut, then nipped out to get the fodder bags inside.
More bumph posted through the door. PHCA Healthcare Assistants leaflet, no prices on it, though. And any adverts with just a mobile number on it always arouses a surreptitious smidge of suspicion. Offering various services. I didn’t see any nail-cutting ones on it, Tsk! Pity there were no prices. Imaging ringing them, not hearing what they said, or worse mishearing them, booking them to find what you thought was £25, turned out to be £75!
Just another memory of one of my earlier cock-ups, last year when I phoned a chiropodist to ask how much it was to have my toe-nails cut and ankle-ulcer clean-up. She was not happy to find I didn’t have enough cash to pay her with. Sad innit?
As I was going back and forth, very carefully and in agony with the nails and Arthur Itis with the bags, I remembered that the second pair of trousers had not been delivered yet, from Amazon? Just another thought and summat further to worry about!
I got the bags unloaded and spread the fodder about to take this photo of them all. As I began to put the items away, the first thing that came to mind was tonight’s nosh. I decided to try the pork and caramelised sausages, and make some imitation hot dogs with the brown wholemeal deli rolls delivered.
I was not confident that I would like them that much. Iceland had a habit of producing great things, like the ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips, and their quarter-pounder beefburgers, both great! But I’m afraid that they do sell items that are horrible as well. Like their so-called fresh tomatoes, own label pork pies etc., so what these rolls and sausages will be like, I’ll find out later. I got around to checking the stuff as I put it in the fridge, and oh, dearie me!
Finally, I got things stored away and back to the Graphicalising again! For ten-minutes!
Another interruption, the phone rang. It was Sister Jane, they were worried about me because they had not received the blog link. I investigated and found I had sent it to Pete’s old email address. I was surprised that it didn’t get through, on all three of my emails accounts, things all get through. I apolomostgised and forwarded the original on to Pete (I hope).
Again, back to get some graphicalisationing done. I could have cried when the mobile rang out, stopping me again from CorelDrawing! What made it more frustrating than usual, was that Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were working all this missed time, and I could have really got on with the job. But it was a well-intended interruption. From Ballroom dancing champion, 2012 to 2015, and Obergruppenführeress, Warden Deana. She asked if I needed any bread or milk. I thanked her, and said not, all okay at the moment.
Back to the CorelDrawing yet again. This time it lasted for twenty minutes!
I felt the warm wet sensation from the lower regions, that needed no explanation to me. Off to the wet room, and cleaned, dried and medication Little Inchies fungal lesion. I took a while, a bit of pain and usual ‘Argh’s, Eek’s, face contorting grumps, and some Spittling-Splurging!
It was so late now. Almost my head-down time. But, I gritted my teeth, I made a brew of Thompson’s tea, I put the oven on a low setting to get the sausages done later (I’m looking forward to trying these), and back to the computer, in hopes of getting at least a few graphics done.
Then, as I was taking my seat on the computer chair…
The right leg gave forth with a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, nearly having me out of the swivel-chair!
However, it was an exciting session. A sort of cross, between the stomp and a slightly more energetic one-legged, hokey cokey. It lasted for a few minutes too! Left me feeling a little drained, though. The worst thing, was it started the neurotransmitters off, and typing after this, and manipulating on CorelDraw, was impossible! I tried my best to carry on, but it was just too cock-up and mistake-prone. I was spending far more time correcting than drawing!
Miserable now, self-pitying and depressed, all that missed opportunities with so many interruptions that stole away a rare opportunity for me to get some graphics done while the nerve-ends were working, lost!
I turned off the computer and tried to look for the silver lining in the whole fiasco, but it was too well sequestered, hidden!
I got on the meal cooking. Ah, well, that’s Inchcock’s luck all over. Tsk!
After a while, I had the meal served-up on the tray. It looked okay to me, but it was a varied mix of success and chronicalisation!
The tomatoes, rare for Iceland, were British and tasted much better than their Moroccan ones. The Marmite cheese disc was gorgeous! The Iceland Straight-Chips were fine.
I’d like to offer a warning about the Pork and caramelised onion sausages. They were tasteless, fatty, and disappointing. I shall dish the ones not eaten, it would be unfair to offer them to any resident to eat.
The French, Granny Smith apple, one I found that wasn’t mouldy, was slightly more moist than an old house brick, but harder!
The wholemeal rolls were tasty. I used them as a holder for the sausages. As I folded the bread around the first sausage, the fat poured out of the link. Through the roll, my fingers, and dripped onto my belly and the plate at the first bite! Fat and water from the sausages got into the chips and made them go soft!
Flavour rating 3/10. Not one of my betterer feasts. Ah, well! Not to fret!
I got the washing-up done. Got down in the £300, second-hand, none-working, broken by my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete. And stewed about all the things that stopped me working on CorelDraw. Messages, deliveries, phone calls, and the lousy luck in the nerve-ends dying just when I got the chance to get with CorelDrawing. Crying was an option! But I resisted.
Sweet Morpheous resisted, again!
Jenny, Doris, Cyndy, Gaynor, Margaret, Angela, Jane, Deana, Steve, William, Bill, Malcolm, Herbert, Josie and all of you Winwoodonians, take care, folks and the best of luck!
Poetical Advice on the Ageing Process
Tripping, falling, slipping, dizzy-spells or funny turns
Any one of these, and others can have you over, young ones must learn,
Whatever you are doing, the time will come…
When you’ll end unexpectedly on your bum!
And, I assure you it’ll painfull, not numb!
As an aid to remind the young, unprepared whipper-snappers of the dangers wot they are certain to face, I’ve wrote them this little ditty:
To the tune of:
“It’s a long way to Tipperary”
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
It’s a long way to go,
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
My knees won’t let me up I know,
Goodbye, Being Healthy,
Farewell, teeth and hair!
It’s a long, long way to Topple-over,
Old age isn’t Fair!
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
It’s a long way below,
It’s a long way to Topple-over,
Despite you’re best endeavour,
Goodbye, being healthy,
Farewell, teeth and hair!
It’s a long, long way to Topple-over,
Get back up if you dare!
Published in support of the Japanese Vick Inhaler Population in need.
In Japan, over-the-counter allergy/sinus medications that contain
the ingredient pseudoephedrine such as Vicks inhalers and
Sudafed are banned under Japan’s strict anti-stimulant drug laws.