Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments – Part Two

Talking with my ailments

Introduction:

Part Two – Shaking Shoulder Shirley

After Inchcock was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, he then got told he was a diabetic. Then had a stroke. (He’s a lucky lad… Not!) Next, a Subconjuntival Haemorrhage in his right eye.

Then while recovering in an NCH (Nottingham City Homes) Care Home, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley introduced herself. He presumes this is due to the (Nicodemus’s) Nerve ends dying. But the occasional Neuropathy Pete’s shuddering, shaking and jerking of the right side of his body and limbs rarely last for more than a few minutes at max. Usually, Shirley is a lot more violent for some unknown reason and can wear the old man down when she’s persistent. Shaking and lashing about. Her efforts recently have increased somewhat, time-wise, and Inchcock says, “After a long hour or so session, I’m convinced she is trying to wrench my humeral head bone free of the socket” Oh, and Inchcock also needed three stitches in a shaving cut!

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The Nocturnal Natter with Shirley

A mixture of awake, half-asleep, and dreamt discussions, wrote from notes and during the actual multiple chin-waggings…

Inchcock: I’m not sure why or how you came about… Shirley: Ha!, now you talk to me; I’m not as important as Bloody Boris bladder then, what’s that about?
Inchcock: Whaddya mean about?
Shirley: Yo started this ‘ere Talking to yer ailments series of blogs off wiv him… not me, who is far more painful indeed… innit, no doubt?
Inchcock: Well… it depends which ailment is worst at the time… giving me the severest clot…
Shirley: Argh, shurrup! You’ll know now why I’ve been giving the jerks and aches then? Cause yer doesn’t rate me was mean enough… yer, I’ll put yer in more pain than gout!
Inchcock: I wouldn’t and don’t doubt your pain-giving qualities at all; I’m already in pain, tired and worn-out!
Shirley: I suppose Bartholomew give it more to you?
Inchcock: Well, he has been lasered and still works,
Shirley: Cum on mush, look how yers treated me, bad or not!
Inchcock: I massage you twice a day with Phorpain gel
Shirley: Not like you, an old fart that still drinks bottled stout! Yer just an ungrateful old trout!
Inchcock: I…
Shirley: And another thing, I’ve never let the shoulder joint fall out!
Inchcock: Well, I doubt…
Shirley: I’ll tell yer to wot you done to me int past, Inured me you have, I remember the Colwick security stakeout!
Inchcock: Go one then, tell me all about it… it won’t make me freak out!
Shirley: Now yer makin’ me want to puke and pout!
Inchcock: Pout? Why? What about?
Shirley: Oh! Yer not bovvered about me puking then, yer an emotional wash-out!
Inchcock: I remember now, Shirley, Colwick, when we did an overnight lookout…
Shirley: Ah, year, that’s wot it was about!
Inchcock: When I was using the night goggles, from the back of the van… and from it, I fell out, giving you a good clout?
Shirley, you landed in a field, and blood did spout…
Inchcock: Blood? Who’s? No, surely not?
Shirley: It was me, and you bleeding.. have you no memory left or what?
Inchcock: Erm…
Shirley: The burglars arrived? You felt around in the dark for the R.T., went out of the van to take a nighttime photo, missed the step.., and fell on me! What an idiot!
Inchcock: Ah, yes… I fell on a broken tin pot…
Shirley: And it cut me! And you still never got the I.D. shot!

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Notes made for later use…

In the afternoon, Inchcock: Fell asleep…

Shirley: Oi, you Inchie! Are you ready to have anuvver talk wiv me?
Inchcock: Well, I’d like for me…
Shirley: Don’t tell me, you’re back on the Drambuie?
Inchcock: No, no, no, I don’t drink anymore…
Shirley: Sounds like an oxymoron, yer fibbing, you see…
Inchcock: No, I’m not, you’ve been hanging around for over seventy-odd years, must have noticed, so you must indeed acquiesce, concede, and agree?
Shirley: Oh, trying to get clever with words, I see?
Inchcock: Why are you so nasty and sarkie?
Shirley: Me? I’ll tell yer why, dumbo! In left Shoulder Lilly, never, always me, that’s what causes my incongruity! Why is it always me the doctors stick the hypos in?
Inchcock: Now look, we’ve grown old together, Shirley…
Shirley: Yea!
Inchcock: We’ve been through some tough times, we all suffer, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Deaf Darren, Hemorrhoidal Harold, Saccades Sandra all of them, oh, and Toothache Tiffany…
Shirley: Enough of this claptrap mush! But I do wish you well with this little ditty!
Inchcock: She suddenly returned into the ether; what a pity!

Time To Get An Iceland Order Done, methinks

A bit bare, innit?

A Long Hobble to the Doctors – Guess who forgot to take his camera?

I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.

Self-Angering Whoopsiedangleplop! In Ode

Puggleclumpdimwit!

Even for me, I made a Whoopsiedangleplop an hour ago that turned my stomach – Started Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald off – and made me so angry with myself…

Inchcock is a Grangnanging Stupid Old Git!

No idea how I did it – but I lost Wednesday’s Ode I’d been working on for about four and a half hours! Nine verses! And, I thought, it was pretty decent… The hour-and-a-half above, I’ve been trying to find it or find out what the hell I’ve done to lose it… Got the Doctor’s in the morning, so have no choice other than to make it again.
I apologise in advance cause the frame of mind I’m in right now is not conducive to Funny Ode creating!
This means staying up late to get the Ode done… I’m not expecting it to have the usual humour or be any good, the mood I’m in, but I’ll try…

Inchcock is a Pathetic, Useless Pillock!

I told the Social Services lady how much I had in the bank,
Of course, they’ve raised the total allowed, but I was frank,
She offered me an hours help with shopping and laundry,
It’d cost me £280 a week… Holy Lordy!
I said no, I was referred to the Revenue & Benefits, thanks!
She asked if I had money in any other banks…

Inchcock is a Pickleglobknob Idiot!

Nottingham Revenue & Benefits man rang me on the phone,
A 2½hr interview followed I was in the ether-world zone,
My concentration dissipated, off it had flown,
I thanked him with a weary groan…

Inchcock is a Dolt!

He said he’d sent the paperwork to sign & return,
Of course, no help was given, I soon did learn…
Result in today, on a downer now, scowled and had a gurn!
Excuse me, to the Porcelain Throne, I’ll have to adjourn…

Inchcock is a Gnatwrangling Turd!

Unhappy at the elision of the actual cost, though,
Still a secret? Why do they not let me know?
They told me how to pay, and punishment if not…
Added fines if you miss a payment that cheered me a lot!

Schluberdubersnarl, Inchcock!

The limit for money, I thought I might be below, but no,
The figure has gone up; this is not good, you know!
The decision didn’t leave a warm afterglow…
I nearly cried; that could have ruined my eyeshadow,
Blimey, I made a funny! And not getting any Sympatico!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

Ah, I’ll be making beef stew for later; my hunger does grow…
Hello, it’s already late, mate… Carer due, Doctors tomorrow,
I’m still angry with myself; there is a self-pitying sorrow,
Life at the moment is annoying, no zest… hollow!
It’s me that is annoying me… that what I’ll have to forego…
The hidden costs of the carers do rise… Oh, blow!

Inchcock is a Senile Old Git!

An ‘orrible Day Again!

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Inchcock’s Ode: Talking with my ailments

Number One – The Bladder

I begin with Little Inchies Bladder; I think I used all my luck up for the rest of my life around 1989. I got a hernia from lifting the bins at Hero Drinks at Kegworth, went in to have the Hernia Repaired, which they did immediately, putting me in the Men’s Surgery in Ward 19.

When I woke up, and they told me how lucky I had been! And they were right! When they went in with the laser and camera (Yes, I know… how the heck did get all that down Little Inchy you were going to ask, weren’t you? Well, I don’t know, I was blissfully asleep all the way through the operations!) The Consultant carried on; they found cancer in the bladder, which showed up on the mini laser camera, and being as they had all the same tools needed for the hernia, they burnt it out straight away! But my bladder capacity is reduced by 50%. Fair enough, I thought, thank you!

That brought a smile to my face! But the man wouldn’t let me kiss him. Hahaha!

He added that they would remove the catheter and bag from Little Inchy for me in a short while.

An Auxhilary nurse on her own arrived to do it. The poor gal was a bag of nerves and started to pull it out without bleeding it enough first. I asked her to stop and bleed it a bit more… the gal was shaking, bless her.

Above my ward was Prince Charles come in to have his tennis elbow looked at. The staff earlier were disgusted; the hospital had emptied the ward above me. I could hear them moaning about patients being put into a corridor!!! And set two nurses and a Sister on duty, 24/7 for the duration of the Prince’s visit.

Back to the beside:

A sudden, unbelievably loud screech/scream burst out from a nurse. I think, “Look, look, it’s Princess Di coming in!” At this, everyone who could move did so over to the window to look down at Di and her (they told me later) the armed protection officers, as they got her in through a fire door to avoid the press waiting, with cameras at the main front door!

Most unfortunately for me, the young nurse was amongst the Royalists who stampeded to get a view of Lady Di – and pulled the catheter out, catching it with her foot, I assume, as she rushed for her Royal treat!

So, I was with blood spraying up like a fountain, and covering me the bed, clothes and floor… Which the nurse spotted a minute or two later, and she came to me in a panic and crying at what she’d done! Sobbing her heart out, she was! Other staff arrived, the poor young lass couldn’t stop crying, and eventually, things got sorted.

A ranking nurse joined us and started to tear a strip off of the Axhilary nurse; I don’t know why, (Well, I do, I felt terrible for her), but I said; “No, it wasn’t her fault, I turned to see what the fuss was and pulled it out…” I’m sorry I said that now, cause for the next two days, my name was mud with nurses!

The first wee I took with the catheter out, shot forth as if from a fireman’s hose, bounced back from the walls – and I kid you not, left an imprint of my body on the back wall, with blood around it!

I’ve wandered off the plot here, haven’t I?

Sorry, back to the chinwag with the bladder fun…

Inchcock Gerry: Why do you have days when you don’t want to wee-wee, then go bad at it, mate?

Bladder Inchock: Why? It’s obvious, innit? Anyway, I don’t want to confabulate!

Inchcock Gerry: But for two days, you’ve flowed freely, been considerate?

Bladder Inchock: Humph!

Inchcock Gerry: What’s up? I’ve been taking in the extra fluid. Now it must be gallons you hydrate?

Bladder Inchock: That bloody surgeon lasered me; no wonder I can’t concentrate and urinate!

Inchcock Gerry: You should be glad, freed of death! A bit of pain, indeed you can tolerate?

Bladder Inchock: Listen clever-clogs, weeing for me, is variable, strangulate, freeflow, then it may stagnate!

Inchcock Gerry: What? I make sure water does circulate…

Bladder Inchock: I have pain too, do you appreciate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I can only speculate!

Bladder Inchock: I send you messages beforehand, admittedly just a few seconds at times, but you also had cancer on my prostate!

Inchcock Gerry: Oh, that’s my fault too, is it? I did ruminate.

Bladder Inchock: I hate talking to a thicko like you – why didn’t you become a graduate?

Inchcock Gerry: Well, I was uneducated and got a job cleaning the sluicegate…

Bladder Inchock: Sod off! You were chasing girls on yer one rollerskate!

Inchcock Gerry: Times were bad back then…

Bladder Inchock: Other people Inchy, have a toilet inside, not going out into the backyard, and having to wait…

Inchcock Gerry: Trust you to be irritable as you postulate…

Bladder Inchock: Ha! So now you accuse me of having irritable bowel syndrome as you orate?

Inchcock Gerry: I’ve no idea what I’m doing talking to a bladder?

Bladder Inchock: You’d better shut up then cause you’re making me madder!

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,

They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,

With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!

T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…

He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!

I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…

Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and Obergruppenfürher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.

As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?

An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly £11 for something that has been sent to me?

He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.

The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.

I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.

Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!

I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!

Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.

Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.

Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…

Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!

I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.

I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!

I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.

Boy, did I feel a fool!

I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.

Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!

I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.

The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.

The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.

The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!

My Luck Changed!

I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.

It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.

I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!

Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.

I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.

While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?

Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.

Maintaining One’s Sanity – Not easy you know!

With Thanks To Madge & Margo for the Memories

SANITY

Did I have it in the first place, though?
I started going loopy about 70 years ago,
Long before I attained the shape of a rhino,
My voice then would have been falsetto,
I ate ice cream, long before they made the Cornetto,
I lived in a terraced house, in the Meadows ghetto,
No hot water, inside loo, no electricity until 1952,
Mother was the pushy one, scared me stiff… a virtuoso,
But the police were after her, run away, she had to go,
In winter, ice on every cracked or broken window,
Twelve years of tripping over the warped lino.

Dad said, we need money; I’ve got some jobs for you!
Two paper rounds, a Saturday job, that’s just a few!
After school, I rush home; here’s what I’d do,
Clean and set the fire, and make Dad some stew,
He could be home six o’clock, or a quarter to two,
No time to play, but I did pray for a TV to view!
Never got one, of course, but one was always due,
Not that I had the time anyway, with the cleaning up to do!

Got a job, two guineas a week, got a flat, although…
I got impetigo, got thrown out, so off I had to go…
Playing solo Ludo… it wasn’t terrific, you know!
But I got into digs, full board… and found myself aglow,
The landladies daughters, things unknown to me they did show!
I was proud and macho, every night, with Madge and or Margo…
Showed me the best ways to keep from feeling low!
Lessons that even today, I’m glad I did undergo,
More later, time to take my medications now – Hoho!

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

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme series

Impute-Inchy, Friday 5th March 2021, Diary

A Touch of Class, from TFZer Nancy!

22:40hrs: I shot awake, with the thoughts of getting at least some advance templates done: For some reason, it was my day’s commitment, mission and incumbency! A resolution, willpower or even a dedication that has been scarce these last few months. Somehow, and I know not how – I knew I was going to get them done. Equally worrying was that I knew it was not going to be easy!

I even lay there on the recliner a while, planning a different way of setting them up that might save me some time. Fair enough, it didn’t work and cost me even more time… But. the fact that I thought about it, and tried, is the genuinely galvanising part.

But, first things first, a visit to the Porcelain Throne was needed. I manoeuvered my way out of the recliner, bit by bit, with comparative ease as well, caught my balance, and off to the wet room.

Well, this was an unexpected ding-dong of an evacuation. But it made a change. And for some reason or other, I was in a bit of a good mood with things at the time. Yes, it worried me as well! The same as yesterday, things took their time to start, and I got the crossword book out – another improvement here, I got one clue answered. Sad innit? One solution in three days and five Throne sessions! Tsk!

Once the movement began, it was one of the slowest I’ve ever coped with. And with so little evacuating as well. But Constipation Konrad was continuing his comeback, I think. Still, it was far less messy to clean things up afterwards! Mind you, the flaming cistern wasn’t coping with even such a minimal part-wet deposit! Several refills of the tank and many flushes later, I’d got it cleaned up, though!

I took the missed evening medications, and I did the Health Checks. Still, with an absolute determination to get the Templates done, there seemed no wavering on my behalf (Hard to believe, even for me!) I did the body temperature first on the easy-to-use Chinese, made in Hong Kong, contactless thermometer. Best reading for a few days methinks at 37.1°c The Chinese made Boot’s sphygmomanometer proffered the best readings for a while as well! SYS 148, DIA 68, and the PULSE at 88 bpm! The chart is looking like it’s improving somewhat as well. Temperature back in the green at long last!

A made a drink of Glengettie tea. It’s so lovely that the taste-buds are beginning to work again. Dang-nabbed AstraSeneka vaccine side-effects! Grrr!

I dedicated my time to getting the templates done and persisted for many hours before needing another Porcelain Throne visit. It replicated the first trip, but the tank actually took everything evacuated away, with just two flushes! I noted that the wrist alert bans had been trying to strangle me again! Hehe!

I returned to the computer and updated the Thursday blog. Not a lot needed doing. Emailed the link, Pinterested a few snaps, passed wind violently and started coughing something awful, and kept on doing so for a long time? Visited the WordPress Reader section and then onto Facebooking catch-up. I read and replied to the WP comments. A good came in today; that was nice.

Just before eight o’clock (Ten hours of Computing!) I’d got the templates finished! Yee-Haa! But no time for self-praising. For the ablutions had to be done, he would help me with sorting out the newly fire-proofed cupboard if the worker chap returns. And I need to get the waste bags to the chute and medical bottles to the recycling bin downstairs.

As I got into the wet room, I noticed blood on the jumper in the chest area? Hello, what’s this then? I asked myself. Well, you would, wouldn’t you? I discovered a cold or on the lip had caused the problem. Makes a change, Hahaha!

  • I dried up the leak with a kitchen towel.
  • Did teeth, and the split tooth started bleeding, so I had to dry that up, too. Only the one dropsy, mind!
  • Only three dropsies shaving. Two little nicks bled a bit, but nothing serious.
  • The nasal clearing went well, one dropsy!
  • The showering was started. But it became a smidge farcical! There cameth a landline phone call, that at first, I thought was coming for the radio show, ‘The Men from the Ministry’ on Radio Four Extra. By the time I realised this was not the case, and got my cold, coughing body out and to the telephone – it had stopped ringing!
  • Back into the shower, clouting my right shoulder on the door frame. Wich started SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) off, as well as BPB (Back-P{ain-Brenda) too!
  • So, coughing, sneezing, and in pain, I resumed the showering.
  • Repeated dropsies of the shower-gel bottle later, the telephone rang again! Now, I was getting a smidge annoyed!
  • Out of the warm shower, the landline stopped again before I could get to it! Grangleplops!
  • Back yet again to the showering, at least I got around this time without any injuries!
  • But Expuslivications! Only Neopathic Pete launched into one of his adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances! A short but brutal flailing performance and I just don’t know how I stayed upright, but I did!
  • I was cold again, coughing, and Cathy Cartilage joined in! Gadzooks, Crockledimdogs! and Gnatwrangles!
  • Guess What? The bloody landline rang again!
  • This time, with the pain, shivering, and in particular, the knee, I didn’t even get all the way out of the wet-room before the phone stopped!

The washed yesterday diabetic bamboo socks had definitely shrunk! Humph! Oh, and the fluid retention seemed to be getting worse today? Am I bovvered? Nope!

I should have been a physical and mental wreck by the time I got out of the wet-room. But, No! All the Accifauxpas, Whoopsidenagleplops and injuries, bad luck, etc. Still, I was singing away to myself as I shivered. The cold sore opened up again, the coughing started one more, and Cathy Cartilage was getting worse by the minute… But was I bothered? No! As I was getting soap powder and handwashing, I pondered why I felt so uncaring, take-it-as-it-comes? An atypical abnormality, even an illusoriness confused, baffled me. But I was not going to let anything to get me down. Why? Something like this would usually get me all hot & bothered, but not today, Josephine?

I simply pressed on with the hand washing and got the heavy long-sleeve jumper, the bamboo socks and pyjamas bottoms all washed, wrung, hung and done! I used Surf Soap powder this time, it smells as good as the liquid one, and things seemed to clean up alright.

Then, I got the waste bags made up, added them to the walker-guide trolley box, and put the recycling glass into a carrier bag to take down outside to the green bin after using the waste chute.

As I got to the door, a much-dreaded letter had been posted, so I investigated. Huh! The Water Rates going up again now! Another integral part of the Government and utilities claw-back campaign to pay for the Covid-19? So, if I remember right, suddenly starting last week, I’ve had notifications of increases in costs for; EE Mobile, Liberty-Global Virgin Media, Internet; the rent and service charges are going up. British Gas has gone through the roof, the Bank has reduced my interest from 3% down to 1.5%, and the free bus service has been removed. I’m sure there is something else that I can’t remember! Yet, even this news of more costs did not get me down??? I wonder if I’ve died and no one has told me?

I struggled but got the walker out of the door and went along the lift foyer to the waste-room.

Aha! A new poster on the side of the lifts. Water Supply Interruption, no sorry, disruption. It’s for Friday 19th 2021, between 08:00hrs > 17:00hrs. I’m assuming it is for March, as the 19th is a Friday?  Onwards I plodded, no longer singing now, to the chute, but I was coughing better… Haha! I got the six bags down the tube and returned and got a lift down the bin outside. It was a little dim and grim in the ground floor lobby?

Down in the elevator and out to the bin. Handed the bottles to caretaker Stephen… Whoops, I mean, Robert!

And back up in the lift. In the lift lobby on my twelfth-floor, I noticed that the Art Deco all at our end of the hall had now been painted over, the same as all the other ones! I’ve put a photo from last week under this mornings, to remind you of the how pretty it was, but not for long.

Do you agree that the patchy art deco was different? It was growing on me each time I saw it, but no longer, now we share a bare baron wall, along with all the other floors. Tsk!

I got in the three flats lobby, Horse-Betting Addicted Malcolm, near lets, Forgetful Josie far left, and demented Inchcock far right.

Got the trolley indoors, and it was getting late for me, and the weariness was dawning. But, I needed to start this diary and get it finished if possible, or mostly anyway.

So, I pressed on, but the zest was dwindling as time passed by.

Blimey, it was suddenly ten to five at night! Boy, oh, boy, that’s about 18 hours I’ve been up and about! As I checked with my watch, I found that whatever is causing it, the wrist bands, soap powder, I don’t know, the Clopidogrel returning, maybe? But the bits of whatever on the arm were bleeding again. Mayhaps the Warfarin has gone too high? That may account for the lip bleeding so badly earlier? Mmm!

I stayed awake long enough to make an order for Morrisons, on Amazon, for tomorrow A.M.

I gave up on computing and got some sarnies made up for the meal. A dagwood imitation on bread thins, with ham and tomatoes, with mini pork pies and chilli chicken and a bit of Marmite cheese.

Apart from the terribly tasteless bread thins, the disappointing Anchor butter, the dry pies, the wet bland chicken, soft tomatoes, the Marmite cheese disc was tasty! Oh, and the lemon yoghourt was curdling a bit. Overall flavour rating, a barely deserved 3⅜/10! Gawd, it was lousy! 

Of course, I settled far too late to watch the Tales of the Unexpected. I put on a Heartbeat DVD, but in my state, I didn’t even get through five minutes of it and drifted off into a terrible (well, there were some good bits) dream-filled, disturbed slumber. I seem to keep waking and remembering bits, some that involved activities I can no longer perform but used to enjoy… then nod off dream again, and wake to ponder over what I’d been dreaming of! For some reason, I did not write anything on the notepad?

Ah, well!

Inept Inchcock, Diary – Monday 11th January 2021

Monday 11th January 2021

Bulgarian: Понеделник, 11 януари 2021 г.

23:35hrs: I came back to consciousness, to be greeted by BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) and HH Hippy-Hilda, both giving me more aches and pains than ever before. It became obvious that during yesterday and Nocturnally, the terrible Mind-Blanks, Dizzy Dennis visits and all the Confusion Conrads, that I must have gone over on the floor at some time. Tsk!

Still, I didn’t feel sorry for myself, I was actually pleased that I’d got through the attacks without any other or worse injuries. Thinking about it, it may have been another mini-stroke, the metallic taste in the mouth, was very similar when I was coming out of the last big stroke. So, I might have been lucky. Patchy memories of the event remain.

But other than the discomfort of the bruisings, I was feeling much better and with-it now. Slow-witted still maybe, but ten-times perkier than last night! A good sleep helped no doubt. I reckon I must have had over five (piecemeal) hours in restful slumber!

I had a wee-wee, a tricky affair, and got the computer on to update the diary. I spent a lot longer trying to remember what had occurred, yet odd incidents, were gin clear than I did in typing the details? Albeit I guessed at some, had no doubt missed others off. Once I began writing, things went extraordinarily well. Lack of hassle from Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters and Dizzy Dennis felt so unnatural, incredible really.

I did the Health Checks. Amazingly, the SYS was down from 184 to 164, DIA lower from 84 to 81. Pulse  Down to 77 from 84?

All finished as best I could anyway, I sent off the post and emailed the link. Pinterested a couple of pictures, and went on Facebooking catch-up. Good timing, just as I had finished, the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived.

Off to the wet room, and the evacuation was one of the best for months! Effortless, painless, and neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Konrad had the upper hand! Not too messy, not overly pongy either! The only thing of any concern was that the bleeding was mucous-like, but not a lot of it. This got me thinking while washing the hands, I stood for a few moments thinking about yesterdays problems. 

  • Had it been a mini-stroke?
  • Only the metallic taste in the mouth gave any indication that it might have been?
  • I would surely have pressed the wristlet panic alarm if I had thought it was? (My memories were so obscure, unestablished and confused)
  • How could I go/fall over and not remember doing so?
  • Breaking pots and dropping things without realising?
  • I later found I’d left the fridge door open, and the tap running? (On the bright side, the butter will spread easier, and it was the cold water tap [faucet], I’d left running, not the hot one, and the plug was not in the sink) Hehe!
  • How come I’m feeling so good this morning?
  • Why have the regular ailments not started kicking off yet this morning? (Apart from Cathy Cartilage, Anne Gyna) No Duodenal Donald, SSS has barely given me a twinge yet?
  • Reflux Roger and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters seem hardly any hassle at all!
  • The Sys, Dia and pulse were all lower?
  • Even Toothache Thomas is far less bother?
  • The Throne’s evacuation, almost perfect (Apart from the blood)
  • Why the mucous secretion from the rear end suddenly?

I had to stop myself thought-meandering, I realised that no answers were going to be found. I hope that it is Matron Julie who calls today for the courtesy visit, I can explain everything to her.

Made a brew of Glengettie, and tool the medications. Crikey! The wee-weeing is getting vicious and frequent now!

Took a poor photo of the morning view. With the Canon, the Nikon I think has now packed-up altogether. Sob!

Then spent a few hours on starting this post going. Next, I checked on the WordPress Reader. Then read and replied to the comments on WP.

Then made some brekkers of sorts: mini pork & pickle pies, and a packet of Frazzles.

Then decided to get the ablutions done. I washed the pots, had yet another wee-wee, and off to the wet-room I trudged, with the innards beginning to rumble a tad?

A stand-up session, due, to the fact that I misread the clock before going in, thinking it was 08:00hrs when it was 07:00hrs. Tsk! The teeth cleaning went well, even the shaving was okay! The medicationalisationing was also fine! Up until then, I’d only had about four dropsies! Grrreat!

Then it came to getting dressed – things got a smidge farcical then!

  • Getting the PPs on, Unbalanced-Brian nearly had me over – it would probably have been less painful if he had! I didn’t half crack Carilage Cathy’s knee on the corner of the floor cabinet! Agony ensued, and I’m now limping in a different style. Of course, I merely laughed it off, no swearing under my breath, or out loud!
  • No socks put on. Obviously not through my fear of the finger trapping and cutting Sock-Glide, not a brave, handsome, heroic, fit, dynamic person like me. I just thought it was warm enough to go without any socks on. Ahem!
  • The trousers next, and I tried to take extra care – but at his usual inopportune moment, Neuropathic Pete burst forth with a right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance! (It had to happen, things had been going unnaturally well this morning!) And just at the moment that I lifted my left leg up to stick it in the trews! I lost my grip on the doorframe, and lunged at the shower chair for support, cunningly and slickly preventing my tumbling to the floor! Then…
  • As I was doing this piece of clever manipulation, I knocked the damned Sock-Glide off the chair! What part of my body did it hit? Yep! Smack on the lowermost painful part of Cartilage Cathy’s knee! Knowhere else at all!
  • The language did flow this time. A few silent blaspheming profanities were uttered! I’m afraid! Well, a lot, really!
  • This had to happen on the first time I was short of painkillers. You watch it, all the ailments will start kicking off soon! Grubbleackers!

I exited the Torture Room… I mean, wet-room and finished dressing. The INR nurse and the Matron visit (If they happen) could arrive early, so  I got the waste bags made up, and into the trolley box, and taken to the waste chute as soon as it was the allowed time to use it.

My luck changed as I was leaving the door into the flat’s foyer. I got the trolley out and was turning to close the door, and Cartalidge Cathy gave way. I wobbled and flailed about using walls as support. I’ve no idea how I manage it in that tight space, but I got away without a single clump, bash or hit against anything! A funny life, innit?

I poddled to the chute room and got the bags all deposited, and back to the flat. The place seemed so quiet. Not a soul to be seen.

I made a brew and continued to work on this blog for an hour or so, hoping the nurses would come early, no such luck.

I checked on the emails. Then read the local E-Magazine, Your-Area. The Vaccines Minister has some nervous-making news for us.

The latest available Nott’m Coronavirus figures were not too happy-making either! Oh, dear!

Teenager in ‘life-threatening’ condition after Nottingham stabbing Teenager in the hospital with life-threatening injuries after stabbing in Forest Fields, Nottingham Police arrest trio after report of stabbing in Forest Fields

The heartbroken mum of a 16-year-old boy who died after being stabbed said community support has stopped her leaving the area for good.

Thank heavens the INR Vampire Nurse arrived to take my blood, reading this magazine was depressing me. A lovely lady. Had a look at the BP record, and I told her of the mysterious loss of memory last night, and the mess I found in the kitchen. She too thinks it might have been a mini-stroke. Matron Julie might be calling on me later.

As soon as the gal left, I began to feel the weariness dawning on me again. I hope things don’t go like yesterday afternoon did.

A thought or recovered memory came back to me. Sister Jane, I think, is going in hospital today to have her needles in the eye again. I rang her, no answer, I bet she was already at the hospital. I rang Brother in Law, Pete. He’s just dropped her off at the Eye Hospital. The connection was bad. Had to give up, I think we were guessing at what each other was saying. (Noisy trams in the background). Hehe!

Closed down the computer, and got the nosh started.

Jane rang back and sounded alright, she was pleased that she had not had the needle in the eye this time, but the poor gal had to go back in two weeks to have it again. I cringed at the thought for Jane. ♥

Pottered about, nervously hoping there would be no repeat of Sundays ‘Out-of-it’ session. (Nope, all okay, Phew!)

Tim Price (New Mexico – Photographer-De-Superb’ – Jolly good egg, and Chilli Officianado) would have been proud of me (I was!). I had minced beef pies, garden peas, last of the mini-tomatoes, and, wait for it… Sweet Chilli Chicken breast! I’ve enjoyed the ChilliCon-Carni I’ve been having! So I tried some of the Chilli-chicken, but not the strong one, just the sweet chilli, it was grand! The meal got a Taste-Rating of 8/10!

I finished it and the fruit desserts off, then put the tray on the side chair and drifted off into the land of nod. I fumbled my way out of the chair, rightly thinking it was the DVT clinic results for the Warfarin blood test coming in. The 1.7 level, as a disappointment, but then again, with the ‘Out-of-it’ moments I’ve had this past few days, it was no surprise to see it so low really.

The lady, from the Sherrington Park Surgery, gave me the week’s dosages: Tonight 3 – Tues 3 – Wed 2½ – Thur 3 – Fri 2½  – Sat 3 -Sun 2½, next blood test Tuesday 18 January.

I got my head back down, and noticed the tray with the dirty plate and cutlery on the side-chair, I thought about moving it. Zzzz!

Inchcock, Nottingham’s lost-logicality lothario – Friday 11th December 2020

TFZers – But what are they up to?

03:00hrs: Friday 11th December 2020

Turkish: 11 Aralık 2020 Cuma

00:30hrs: I woke with a start again, and lay trying not to hear the ‘Hum’ outside, or to the new droning sound inside, we think is coming from the machinery on the rooftop in the plant-room. (That’s because it keeps stopping for five minutes or so, then kicks back in) A most annoying noise to wake up to today, two flaming humming-like susurrations, outside and inside at the same time! Globbleaurgh!

I bounded out of the luxury Snuggle-Up, £950, brand new, recliner, and nipped smartly to the £95 overnight-elderly-persons Marks & Spencer’s Chamber Pot, for a wee-wee…

Oh, alright, then… I struggled out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, cracked my right knee on the ottoman, felt back down in the chair and Harold’s Haemorrhoids – swore silently, gritted my teeth and got back up again. Hobbled to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), and had a wee-wee of the PSST (Persistent, Stinging, Sharp) mode.

Seeing the medications that arrived last night, I had a nosey at them.

Being in a more stable frame of mind and more awake than when they were delivered, I think what the young lady who delivered them said, she needed to collect the medications sent earlier without any seals on them. I will ring Obergruppenfurheress and catwalk model, Warden Deana later, to ask her to ring the chemist for me, so I know what to do. I can’t believe that they want the tablets that shot out all over two room back? Then again, Matron did tell me to return them to the pharmacist? I think!

Then I realised that instead of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules I’d asked for, they had delivered Docusate Sodium, in a medicine form. Excellent thinking that was from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, and my Doctor for prescribing medicine. That needs me, to pour out into short plastic three 5ml spoons of the medicine, three times a day! A shame they both forgot about my, Nicolas’s neurotransmitters dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, and Peripheral Pete’s right leg dances! This is not going to work, I’ll have more medicine on the floor, my clothes, and if the involuntary Schuplatter dancing starts while I’m trying to take the medication (six times a day) the bottle is going to get dropped and smashed for sure! I can avoid any problems for a while, cause I still have some of the capsules in the pot to use for a couple or three days – then things should get interesting? Dangerous, mind! 

But credit where it is due. The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, are nothing if not consistent in their desire to kill me off, one way or another. At least their man who dispenses the prescriptions is. They delivered the things for me, so they aren’t all bad, bless em!

Fair enough, they didn’t put the seals on of the two trays… nobodies perfect. Nemo Mortaluim Omnibus Horis Sapit!

I took the medications, then got the Health checks done. I started with the blood pressure, the SYS had was not too bad a result.

The temperature was spot on!

I must remember to ring Deana and ask for assistance with the phoning, maybe after I get the ablutions all done.

The rain began to come down as the mist slowly cleared away.

As I got on the computer, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet-room, I trudged. The ailments were being kind with me up to now.

I thought I might have grown hair again on my head, it took so long to get any moment started! The crossword book was utilised. I even considered giving up and trying again later… Ah, painful, very painful, but the evacuation started… It took a few minutes of effort and a few. Oooh, argh’s, but at last, things picked up the pace! Well, it looks like an easy victory in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) for Constipation Konrad today, over Trotsky Terence. I made sure afterwards, that the Dyoctyl® poo-softener was in the afternoon tablet box ready, in fact, the session was so bad, I put two in there.

Cleaned up, and back to the computer, to make a graphic for later use, but I got diverted (I do that a lot yer knows) when I saw the email news come in, and I had a decker at it. I copied this graph of the Nottingham areas affected.

Then it was time for the Ablutioning Session to be done.

I rang Deana; first, she said she’ll be coming to see me later on, after 11:00hrs. She had a meeting to go to first. I thanked her and made a bee-line for the wet-room/

Getting ready to do the teggies, and I noticed that the growths, blotches and even the papules that were on the left arm yesterday, had all but gone now! Amazing!

The teeth cleaning had few electric-like stabs of pain, as I caught the cracked tooth that the dentist told me were nothing to worry, as she rushed me out of her surgery a couple of weeks ago. They hated me (My high EQ could tell), cause I couldn’t get up the two flights of stairs to my regular dentist to be treated, mind you, he ain’t all that keen on me, either. Tsk!) I digress again, sorry!

The shaving, especially considering that I hadn’t shaved yesterday, went blooming great. Only one little nick and three-dropsies! Smug-Mode-Engaged! 

The showering had a couple of dodgy moments, but I’ve far worse, no I’m not complaining. They were, decent clout against the grab rail, and I hit the ankle ulcer area on the shower-chair leg.

The drying was had no, I say, No, knock-overs! (A smile developing!) As for the medicationalisationing, only poor Harolds Haemorrhoids ointmentating actually hurt. Although the ankle looked a bit battered? But I had given it a good knock when showering, so, fair do’s. It seemed to have changed colour, and the scratch marks too? No pain or soreness, mind you? All so confusing!

It worries me when things go well, it’s unnatural!

Back to the updating of this blog.

And both door chimes rang out. Oberstgruppenfuhreress and desk-top dancer, highly desirable Warden & ILC Deana appeared in the room.

She soon sorted things out for me. The Chemist said to hand the two trays back undamaged packs back to him on the next delivery. But of course, I’d started one, so only that can one can be returned. He’s not replied to my email anyway.

She patched up the fallen curtains for me in the main room and recommended the Apollo shop in Sherwood to get my curtains from. I need some for the kitchen and front room. I’ll give them a go.

Made my mind up, bacon and beans for my nosh. The milk roll bread with it methinks, but first, I must make up a template for tomorrow. Here I go… Hehehe!

Got the meal cooking things ready to start, and checked the leaflet from Nottingham City Homes. A little confusing.

I’ve got to phone them to book an upgrade in the kitchen and bathroom? I think.

The landline flashed, it was Hristina, the lovely vampire nurse, to tell me she will be calling on Monday twixt 8>10:00hrs, bless her cotton socks. I think they’ve made it earlier this week, with the INR level being so low?

Being so tired, I couldn’t appreciate the meal as I might have, but I still gave it a 7/10 for flavour and taste. The bacon was the Iceland brand ‘Seasonally Seasoned’ streaky bacon. It was almost paper-thin but tasty enough for once. The beans and vegetarian sausages were not bad. The Sainsburys pork & pickle pies were fine, not as tasty as the Iceland ones. The milk roll loaf bread and the lemon yoghourt were gorgeous! I dropped the things in the bowel to soak, had a weak wee-wee.

I was in the arms of sweet Morpheous within minutes of getting down in the recliner. The dreams began, I woke with a start, and well miffed, at not remembering much about the dreams, just a feeling that they were good? Clobblechops! I drifted back into the land of nod, determined to get back to whatever it was I was nocturnally enjoying previously – of course, I couldn’t and failed. I’m pretty good at failing, as well!

Inchcock – the Defeated! Thursday 10th December 2020

Only the better class of young hunks to apply! Haha! ♥

Thursday 10th December 2020

Croatian: Četvrtak, 10. prosinca 2020

23:45hrs: Woke, up, balance, out-of-it mode. Made tea, Health checks and wee-wee. I was intent on getting the grafting of the template creating done today, even if I got nothing else done. There was (I thought) no deliveries, nurses or owt else coming or due today.

(It was to be my most busy day for years).

Made a brew, took the photo from the kitchen window.

Got the computer on and started to do the graphics for the templates.

A mug of tea and a wee-wee.

Stuck into the template work job, and worra job it turned out to be.

To my utter amazement, the intercom rang and lit. It was the Sainsbury order I thought I’d ordered for next week?

Got stuff in the kitchen.

Sorted and put away. Gone a bit spare on the cleaners?

Back to the template graphic-creating. Spent hours on it, not getting anywhere fast, but making progress.

Stopped and sent of yesterdays blog link email. Posted it to WordPress.

Back to the template graphic-creating.

Thought I heard a knock on the door, no bells chiming.

It was the Warfarin INR, Anticoagulation test results. Not so good this time, down to 1.5, oh dear.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing)

Sister Jane rang, to tell me I’d emailed the wrong link, I’d sent Tuesdays. We had a little chinwag. I checked and sure enough another cock-up done by yours truly! Got things sorted and changed, and added a new link to the email and replied to it to send the proper link. (I think!)

I rang Jane, and she confirmed it had got through, a long nattering session took place.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing)

Made a brew and had a wee-wee.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing) This was an eight-hour stint, and I hadn’t even got the graphics finished properly, let-alone made a start to the template creating yet!

Off to the Porcelain Throne. Rock-hard, agony, bleeding, much cleaning and medicating needed.

Back to the template graphic-creating. (Twixt weak wee-weeing) Gave up, totally done-for mentally, now.

Got the nosh prepared, intending to get the Ablutions belatedly tended to afterwards. (Sheer mental fatigue, and interruptions, meant I didn’t even get the ablutions done at all – (that’ll be interesting in the morning having to shave off two-days stubble) Huh!

I got the nosh served up and anticipated a bit of a feast. Not to be, I must have been so disorientated and tired, I found it impossible to eat much of the fodder. I scraped most of it into the bin bag and added that one to another.

Got down in the chair, with the apple in my hand, and drifted almost immediately. Woke in need of a wee-wee…

The door chimes rang out, it was the sweet lady from the chemist’s. As I heaved myself out of the recliner, I dropped the apple and knocked over the bottle of spring water. Having only the jammie bottom on, I wrapped the quilt around me to save embarrassment. In the state I was in, I could not hear a word the girl was saying, but I’m sure she wanted te medications that were sent with no lid back, but I just couldn’t be sure, and I muttered something about not feeling well, I think.

She handed me the two bags of meds. I apologised for not being with-it and thanked her.

I was really in a confused state, but I needed to check on the medications.

I must ask Dean to ring the chemist for me tomorrow, to ascertain about what was actually said, and how to get the tablets back to them.

They had sent some poo-softener, but not the Dioctyl capsules, this time they despatched Docusate Sodium medicine. Taking this medicine is going to fun with Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and a Neuropathic leg dance in the offing while doing so. At the same time, I try to measure the liquid into the spoon to take 6 doses a day! I thought the capsules were great as well!

Another weak wee-wee, and down into the recliner, confused, mentally buggered… and the Thought-Storms began… Fed-Up!