Inchcock, Mon 30 Nov 20: Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpas, Tumbles, Blood and Pain. All normal then!

A TFZer Winner, Yaa-Hoo!


Monday 30th November 2020

Hawaiian: Pōʻakahi 30th Nowemapa 2020

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00:10hrs: I woke up, belched, and thought about getting up and fell peacefully asleep again.

01:05hrs: I woke up, passed wind, thought about getting up, fell asleep again.

01:45hrs: I woke up, sneezed, shivered, thought about getting up, but didn’t fall to sleep again. But not through any determination to get up and actually do anything – I needed a wee-ee!

The first thing that permeated into my foggy brain was that the blasted ‘Hum’, was the loudest it has ever been! Like steam or water belting out of the pipe, or a wind constantly blasting away! How anyone with decent hearing can put up with this amazes me!

I disentangled my boing-boinging, wobbly-stomached torso from the c1968 recliner, and caught my balance, and with the new underfoot papule stinging like hell, hobbled off to the bucket. A wee-wee of the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) free, SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) mode was taken.

I went to fetch the Health Check gear, and the view was of darkness, a mist concealing nearly all the lights from view. I got the Nokia camera out and took this photograph, although there is not much to be seen. Ah, I’ve done it again, I meant Nikon of course.

Just testing to see if you were paying attention. Har-har!

I used the contactless thermometer this morning, to take the temperature with.

A fair reading showed up, of 36.5°c. A little higher than yesterdays low reading of 36.1°c.

While setting up the sphygmomanometer, I had a visit from SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and dropped the machine. I swore silently, but proliferously, and retrieved the hemadynamometer, to find it still worked. Phew!

At first try, it failed to work, as has been happening the last few days. The second attempt went okay, but the SYS was smidge up on what yesterdays were, at 168, the pulse was 92, a little high? Mmm?

I got the medications sorted next. Remembering to take the Dioctyl® capsule.

Off for another wee-wee, of the same model as the first one. that turned into a Porcelain Throne visit as well. An interesting one this was. A draw 1-1 between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad. Terribly messy, but with little pain, no concrete torpedos, and relatively swift. Cleaning up afterwards was not so much hassle as yesterday’s evacuation.

Washed and wiped around, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, took a photo of the foggy but getting less so view from the kitchen window, and pressed on with the updating of yesterdays diary.

Which was all done and dusted within a few hours. The post sent to WordPress, and the email link sent off. The Facebooking was done. I visited the WordPress Reader section, and got the kettle on again, for a mug of Glengettie.

There had been a mass of comments come for my followers and fans again. I replied to both of them.

I began creating this diary and had a slight going-off the plan moment, and stopped to get the handwashing tackled. Just a long-sleeved tee-shirt was washed, rung and hung above the sink to drain-off for a few days. Hehehe!

Then I thought, I’d get the ablutions done, the full-monty today. The teggies cleaned. A nice slow, careful, shaving session, a gloriously lazy slow and long shower, using the new lemon-scented shower-gel. A steady drying off, the medicationalisationings, deodorising, and maybe then make a brew of Glengettie.

Then I stripped off to get in the wet room and commenced with cleaning the teeth, first. It was a mixed bag of a session, but I think more pluses than minuses.

Ablutionalisation Report:

  • The teggies were cleaned well, without any bleeding! One dropsy
  • The shaving was done leisurely. Three dropsies, only two nicks, nowt to fret over.
  • Getting in the shower, I caught the underfoot papule against shower chair moving it. Argh!
  • As planned for once, I deliberately took my time and wallowed in the showering process! No knocks, bangs or Dizzy Dennis visits! But the dropsies were about ten. Nicodemus, the swine!
  • The drying off was Accifauxpa-Free! One dropping of the towel and nothing knocked off of the floor cabinet (First time for a long time this!)
  • The medicationalisationing seemed to take aeons. But this was expected. Getting the antiseptic cream on the papule nearly had me over, saved by the wall, Hehehe!
  • Harolds Haemorrhoids attentions were not so bad this morning.
  • Arthur Itis’s knees and Cartilage Kathy were okay!
  • I’m afraid that applying the Phorpain Gel to BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), seemed to annoy her, and she started off. Humph!
  • I spotted some spots on the right hand and tried to wipe them off. But, they were under the skin? Not the foggiest idea what they were, but no pain with them? Later on, they moved around the palm, then practically disappeared altogether?
  • Time to try on the new PPs (Protection pants). I saw another of the mystery growths on the right leg as I checked this photo out? But at least they fitted, but too tightly!  Well, they would with Sainsbury’s substituting medium for large size ones I suppose! I’ve had no leaks form front or back today (yet), si I don’t know how they will cope in the event of any matter or blood loss. But at least they can be used, but just not with much confidence.

I got dressed and got some late brekkers sorted out. A BBQ flavour Super-Noodle, with added Balsamic vinegar and an oxo cube crushed in it, with a few slices of Milk Roll bread to soak up the gravy. Bit of a delight this was, tasty!

I rang Deana to ask her about the progress with the Chemist call, no reply, I’ll call again later on. Got on the computer to start this blog off. (Deja Vu?) The door chimes rang out. (It was Josie returning yesterdays plate, tray and cutlery from her Sunday lunch) She said she enjoyed it, especially the cheesy buttered potatoes. Which pleased me.

  Back to the computer and kicked off doing this blog, at long last. I was well into it, and I an email from Amazon, telling me the order for the jammie-bottoms had been delivered as; ‘Handed to the client’ – You’ll like this upcoming little ‘Tale of Woe’ (I hope).

  • I was worried that they might have been delivered to the wrong block of flats again. So I went to have a look outside of the door just in case they had been left there – Nope!
  • I closed the door and turned round to come back to the main room, and tripped over whatever it was, and ended up, after a bit of wall-bouncing off of, spreadeagled in a lump on the floor – I could feel the blood flowing into the left slipper.  The pain told me it was the papule. (That might have been torn from the skin in the Accifauxpa)
  • Now, not only was I a pain in the neck, but I had one as well! Haha!.
  • I somehow got myself back up on my feet and turned the light on, To find that what I’d tumbled over, was the small packet that contained the jammie-bottoms! It had been posted through the letter-box and had flown to the other side of the hall.
  • I believe I quietly muttered some to the tune of, “Well, I never!”, or “Flippin’ ‘eck”!

I got myself in the wet room and investigated the left foot problem. The slippers inside were well bloodied, but the flow seems to have stopped now. I put some Germolene and plaster on the half-hanging-off papule.

I seemed very calm over these calamities and ensuing. No fretting, panicking, swearing… Well, after the initial few mild oaths).

I swapped slippers, threw the old ones away in the bin, and back to the hallway, to replace the bottles of spring water, the readied Christmas presents and clothes and hats I’d knocked off of the coat hooks in my tumble, and tidied things up. Not a lot, mind!

Now, I had the papule and BPB making any physical activity, painful. And was growing a smidge of self-pity. I mean, how many other people have incidents like this? They must do, but don’t advertise them on the web? Hahaha!

As I got back to the computer, my Nokia 8000 4G, Qualcomm MSM8909 Snapdragon 210 (28 nm), WLAN Hotspot, GPS & S-GPS, FM Radio, LED Flash, MicroUSB, Bluetooth, mobile. rang. (Sniggerski!) It was Warden and Pole-Dancer Deana. She’d rung the Pharmacy for me, and they are delivering the prescriptions for me this afternoon, sometime after 15:00hrs!

That cheered me up a ton and-a-half! So much so, that after thanking her kindly for her help, I stood up without thinking, to go and make a brew of Glengettie in celebration of the good news, and almost found myself back on the floor, as the papule gave me such stinging! Flunglegagit!

I made the mug of Glengettie, and I returned to the computer. Contentedly at first, then I realised I’d have to stay up and awake, and await the arrival of the medications. Humph!

I got some drinkies in a carrier bag and placed them near to the door. In case the chemist’s beautiful daughter brought the prescription for me, as a thank you come Christmas treat!

Then I felt up to checking out the jammie-bottoms that had been delivered.

Gawd blimey, they were so thin! Mind you, they had to be for the delivery man to have posted them through the letter-box, I suppose. Tsk!

As I was trying to make another start at updating this blog, the landline burst forth with tone and flashing! It was Sister Jane. She was ringing from the QMC hospital, where she had had treatment for her right eye, she still can’t see out of it. Glaucoma treatment, Laser treatments, more to come, got to go back Wednesday for more attention. She took a movie on her camera of the procedure, that tickled the nurse. Pete was not allowed to go in with her. And Pete has his own problems with his cancer! Losing his hair with the radiation treatments is annoying him. She is having YAD treatment at the moment. I’ll look that up later.

We had a good chinwag, she was waiting for her number to come up, for her to go for the YAD treatment at the time. Jane could hear the tap-tapping from Herbert above, and she knew where it was coming from. Yet it wasn’t bothering me. (Not surprisingly, the new slipper I could feel filling up with blood again, BPB was so cruel to me, and the bang on the head I took, was giving me a headache like never before, it was well gone my head downtime, I had to stay awake for the prescriptions, I was aching all over, and had missed taking the tablets.) Still, yer doesn’t like to complain does yer? Hahahaha!

Jane had to ring off when her number in the queue flashed up. I hope things go well for her, and hubby Pete. ♥ I am so terribly proud of the pair of them. They are not used to all this hospitalisationing, and various treatments are new to them, yet they are coping so well with it. They now understand I think, what I’ve been going through. But it is far, far worse for them, and once again, I am so impressed with how they are managing.

I made up some more waste bags, got them on the box on the trolley, and took them to the waste chute. The papule (or whatever it is) seemed to be less bothersome now? I’m not complaining! I got the bags down the chute and hobbled back to the flat.

A brew of Glengettie tea was made, to the computer, and I took the belated medications, with an extra Codeine 60mg. BPB was getting worse, I might have twisted the back as I toppled over, I suppose.

I stopped and nipped to the wet room to check on the plaster and papule. The bleeding had stopped altogether. Why I thought I felt it bleeding again is a mystery?

I still couldn’t concentrate on blogging properly. Thinking of Jane took my mind back to so many years ago.

I dug this photo out, and photo’s it from the scrapbook. Jane on the left, me with hair and no belly in the middle, and Christine on the right, and all three of us having medical attention’s. Jane, with her right eye, Chrissie, who has got the Coronavirus (Living on the South Coast now, I think), and me. The picture prompted the Thought-Storms then, but they were good ones! Although twinged with sadness, of course.

It was so late now, I was fighting not to fall asleep and miss the medications arriving. I investigated the thoughts of what to have to eat, and opted for a can of Chilli-Con-Carne, and the meatballs in chilli! I got them in the saucepan and added some balsamic vinegar and a drop of made up Oxo.

Thank heavens, the intercom flashed and buzzed shortly afterwards. It was the lovely girl from the chemist delivering the prescriptions for me. I thanked her and handed over the carrier of Christmas treats.

Then, stupidly tried to do some updating on this blog. I wasn’t up to it, concentration is gone, and in desperate need of sleep, I hope I can stay awake long enough to eat the Tim Price Impressing, Chilli-Con-Carni and meatballs (I just stirred them, and they are hotter than I expected). Haha!

I hope to wake up sometime later and update this blog. Huh! I’ve got to get to sleep first. Fingers crossed, I’ll get the fodder done and eaten first!

Well, that went well. The Chill meatballs and Con-Carne together with a stop of balsamic vinegar, went down a treat. Absolutely on my limit for hotness, yet I loved it, no chance of nodding off while eating this concoction!

I got the plate etc. in the sink soaking with the saucepans and cutlery.

Regrettably, despite my assured feeling that sweet Morpheus would soon enfold in a blissfully deep, rejuvenating sleep, proved so wrong!

The Thought-Storms stampeded into my already befuddled brain, it was like being forced to listen to a  Dessert Island Discs programme on Radio Four! I was not interested in my fears, worries, or guilt, but there was no stopping them all-permeating into my psyche. I felt like just one person, watching a harrowing mystery play that I could not understand, and the doors were locked, I had to suffer…

And I did! It took hours before I nodded off! At least I managed about four hours before I woke up, in one of those rare, unaccountable ‘Up and at them’ awakenings, Dammit!

 

Inchcock – Sat 28.11.20: Your certified dyspathy, nervous-anxiety, trepid, and abstracted psychotic’s diary!

TFZer Keith, fishing? Haha!

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Saturday 28th November 2020

Croatia: Subota, 28 Studenog 2020

04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.

05:00hrs: Woke, and nodded off again. Loathing the thought of having to move, I needed an expergefactor; yet was venerated, well-pleased when it didn’t come.

05:20hrs: Woke, and was even more determined not to rise and partake in life again. A smidge of guilt as I was writing down the time on the Inchcock Today notepad, realising I’d been sleeping for at least eight, much-needed hours. More than I have slept for in twenty-eight years! Great!

05:40hrs: Back into semi-life mode. No calls for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne, so I nodded off again.

0645hrs: This was the end of my first sleeping-in, overlaying session, whatever you want to call it; I could feel the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) was gathering in readiness for an escape bid. So, after fumbling about in an odd sort of panicky fashion to get free of the recliner, and catching my balance, I hastened as fast as my stomached-dominated body would let me, to the wet room.

I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… However, it was not needed. For the battle for supremacy between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was 1-1 draw.

A very messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean!

Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!

The rear end needed a lot of cleaning and freshening, mind! Which took me a while. Not that mattered this morning. Having done the templates yesterday and with my feeling so out of sorts with the timing, I’m not used to getting up as late as this, and the body-clock got genuinely confused.

It was already gone 07:00hrs, and all I’d done was the Porcelain Throne session! I felt out-of-sorts with it all! The body must have told me I needed the extra kip, (which I did, I worked it out and think I was up for twenty-five hours yesterday, most of it struggling to get the templates done). So, Sweet Morpheus supplied it for me.

As I was getting the things ready for the Health Checks, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) started to give me harassment. And she has stayed all day, vindictively stabbing away at me! Spurgledamnations! But, now I think about it, it was most likely due to the long hours in the recliner that had caused Brenda to kick-off?

I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down. Brunglebogs!

The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4°c.

I got the kettle on, and the medications prepped, and I had a look, out of the new, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen window, and it felt odd?

This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke from last nights photos and had another look at the news to see if I could find out what had caused the fire. Nope!

I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on.

I got the computer on and started to update the Friday blog.

It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe!

It was extremely late by the time I’d got it finished. Tsk! Sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the links, Pinterested some snaps, and did the Facebooking catching up. I went to check on the comments, there was the usual mass of them from my fans, and I answered both of them.

Went to make a brew, and found I had not put the passata away after opening it and adding some to he Chill-Con-Carne las night!  I had to dish it. Humph!

Not that it bothered me in the slightest.

I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.

I made an Iceland order up for next week. Got a slot for Tuesday 1st December, 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Beginning to feel all airy-fairy in mind, stopped all activities to concentrate on getting the meal prepared, without making any mistakes, Whoopsiedangleplops ar Accifauxpas.

I couldn’t believe, after the longest sleep I’ve had, (last night), for years, that I felt so drained and tired already?

I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted).

Ate most of it, Taste: 6/10. I stayed awake long enough to eat the yoghourt, too!

Got the TV on, and fell asleep within minutes.

And stayed like this, in the land of nod, for five-hours! I’ve gone from can’t get any sleep to, can’t stay awake within 24 hours?

But why? (Just thought I’d ask!)

Inchcock Today – Thurs 26 Nov 20: I escaped to town on L9 bus – A Mistake!

Hello, hello! What’s going on?

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Thursday 26th November 2020:

Welsh: Dydd Iau 26 Tachwedd 2020:0

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01:25hrs: As I stirred into imitation life, I spotted the untaken evening medications pot. I wondered why I’ve suddenly started to miss taking them so often, lately?

My mind was working away, alright. No thought-storming, just a gentle, unfathomable dribble of inanities, and confusion of half-worked out worries and problems – that dissipated as quickly as they arrived? Being replaced in perpetuity, with the need for a wee-wee.

 I encouraged the even greater-sized, fat-covered stomach to join the rest of the body in getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. Some gnawing pains and a eurgh or two, a couple of boing-boings as the body-mass settled, and I was up catching my balance – but not well enough!

My balance did not equilibrise, and I tumbled back down into the recliner with a sickening thud! I hope that the neighbours didn’t hear it!

Which promptly set off BPB (Back-Pain Brenda), PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), and Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding. Not to mention that I clouted my right elbow on the arm of the chair! I had to get back up to check the injuries over and clean up the fungal lesion.

Usually, I’d do this in the wet room, but had a tube of the Daktacort on the ottoman with the Health Check stuff. So I got on with most awkward and painful needs first—cleaning and stopping Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, and applying the cortisone ointment.

Which, of course, was of no bother to a brave, heroic, healthy, young man like me. (Snortle!) Argh!

I used the also handily placed Phorpain gel, on the knees, and where I could reach around the folds of gross flab around the midriff, to BPB’s dwellings. A reasonably well-sized bruise was developing on the elbow.

Well, I’ve been awake for how long now? Ages! And I am still within four feet of the rickety-recliner, and still desperate for a wee-wee! Positively, not one of the best starts to a day I’ve not.

I considered having a few more words via prayer, with the Boss. But, being as my last week’s ecclesiastical discussion didn’t help any, I went for a wee-wee instead! A need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time.

This session was the easiest, and least painful one I’ve had in months! Messy? Oh, yes! Due to Trotsky Terence winning the fight with Constipation Konrad, hands-down this morning! But, hey, the lack of pain and concrete torpedo removing, this was nae problem for me. I’m using up the bleach, and the once large kitchen towel stocks at a pace, mind. Hahaha! I’ve plenty of toilet paper rolls in yet, though.

I took two photographs of the morning view when I made a brew of Glengettie tea.

The moon seemed a little fuller this morning. I tried a wide shot, and it came out half-fairish with the lights.

Then I got the Health Checks done. The new thermometer colour had gone back to green, as a result, was down to an acceptable figure, I assume, 37°c.

Then the sphygmomanometerisationing. It didn’t work the first time, but okay on the next one. The SYS was still a tad high, the same as yesterday, I think.

I made a start on updating the Thursday blog and stuck with it. Dedicated, persistent, tenacious and indefatigability, like never before! But it still took me hours to get it done. Thanks to Nicodus’s Neurotransmitter relentlessly going off and coming back on-line with the brain. I admit to feeling a little smidgeon of pride when I eventually got it finished and posted-off to WordPress.

I even remembered to take the late morning medications! Swank-Mode-Grade 2 adopted!

Sent the email link off. Then did some Facebooking catching up.

I had a pot noodle for brekkers, but the photograph I took of it has done a bunk from the SD card – again! I did some comment replying on WordPress and had a look at the gallery of new stuff. Some cracking photos on there today!

I took another window view picture, zoomed in this time, on the Sherwood Health Centre area.

Then I tended to the ablutions next.

A right mixed bag of incidents, good and bad today.

The dropsies we variable and Nicodemus kept making and losing contact with the neurotransmitters. Fair enough, that’s to be expected. Most items were dropped, some several times, like the toothbrush, razors, soap and shower gel bottle.

The tiniest of cuts shaving on the lip had to be ‘after-shaved’ to stop it bleeding. Ooh! However. Showering, not a single dizzy hit me!

I couldn’t see it, but I got a reasonable picture of it all the same. That I assume to be from the plopping back down on the haemorrhoids and hitting the elbow on the recliner arm earlier?

I dropped the towel and grabbed the shower chair to lean on to lower my rotund but horrendously wobbly-fleshed body down to retrieve it… I may have got another bruise as I hit my shoulder on the metal seat support. Ah, well!

The feet and pins looked really good and almost normal. Finished drying off, got the deodorants on, and did the medicating. I was surprised at how little piles had bled, considering the strength of the wallop I gave them going back down in the seat. Mixed results then?

I did some updating of this blog.

Then took a snap of the weather outside through the balcony windows glass. Frosty on the ground, a few droplets of rain, not much wind, and the cold sun trying to come out.

This decided me, I am going out later. Only on the bus to town, and calling in the Poundland shop, to try and get some cheap disinfectant, toothpaste, pork pie, and if they have any, cheap canned garden peas. Then I can not bother to use Morrisons again!

I turned the computer turned off, dug around to find the bus pass, keys, etc. Then, I  went through the ‘Bag-of-nerves’ routine of double-checking things before leaving and set off.

Lift down to the ground floor. The upgraders were busy working on the lift and main lobby areas.

I was careful going through not to hit or fall over anything. And got the trolley through to the front doors, and exited safely out into the cold sunshine.

I hobbled along and called in Winwood Court to ask Deana if she could help with next weeks Carrington Pharmacy prescription collecting. No one in the holding cells, so I exited and went out to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk.

A few folks out there. Caught the L9 to town. This was the worst-ever bus ride to town. I’d forgotten all about the problem I had last time I went on a bus, it was that long ago, and immediately wished I’d not gone out. The battle of having to hold onto the trolley as I sat there was hard work at every hill and corner the bus took.

The driver, as he dropped of the few passengers he had, told me not to get off here, and he moved up to get close to the kerb for me to alight. That was nice of him, and I got off unhurt! Hehe!

I walked wearily down Queen Street, and Dizzy Dennis and BPB both kicked off. I decided then, I’d get to the Slab Square and walk to the Poundland Shop, try to get the fodder, and go straight back to the bus stop. I wasn’t feeling too good.

The shop did not have any of the things I wanted, apart from the milk pots and disinfectant. But of course, as is my want & bad habit, I went into a ‘buy-it-anyway’ mode. I ended up amassing Whirls, the milk pots, Dettol disinfectant, toothpaste (Yes eve more, but they were £1, Morrisons are £1.50), Toffeefees, Oxo cubes, and chip-shop gravy granules in the basket.

I must have looked worse than how I felt, cause a young lady at the self-serve tills, took one look at me and said she’d put them through for me, asking if I was alright, as I looked very ashen. Another lady inquired if I’d like her to call for an ambulance? The assistant lady put my things through for me, showing concern for my health still. I gave a can of the Gin & tonic from the trolley thanking her.

A bit unnerving that was! Fair does, I was feeling a tad rough, but I must have looked at death’s door. Still, if that’s what it takes to get some attention from females. Hahaha!

I got outside, rearranged the trolley and bag for easier handling, and made my way through Slab Square to the bus stop.

The git of a Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I felt a draught, he came that close to me! Straight over South Parade without stopping, into the square. He was delivering food to somebody. I hope they enjoy it.

Naturally, this did not bother me at all. Oy. Oy, Oy!

As I got to the top of Queen Street, as the bus was just coming in, a couple of ladies waiting, inquired if I was poorly! This was getting worrying now! Hehe!

Another horrendously painful trip home, worse now I had the extra weight in the trolley to keep a hold of.

Getting off of the bus at the flats, was dodgy, it was a good distance from the bus to the pavement to cover. The waiting inmates at the stop, each offered an odd stare to me, but said nothing? I checked my flies, they were secure!

I hobbled to the wardens holding cell to ask about help for the prescriptions, but no one in again. Can’t be helped, I’ve almost a week to try and sort it yet. If the memory doesn’t let me down, Har-Har!

 I got back to the apartment and battled to get the trolley through the door, and new fatigue came over me. I was done in!

I unloaded the purchases, Dizzy Dennis and  Conrad Confusion took control. I proceeded to get the Chilli-Coon-Carne with baked beans, and gravy added, burning the saucepan in the process. I scraped the saucepan and left it in soak.

The meal was devoured with delight, even though I think I fell asleep eating it at one point? Conrad Confusion was taking a firmer grip on me.

Perhaps it was because I felt so weary, but the meal was only given a 7/10 (on notepad). I cant, read the rest of the scribble, so don’t know why.

Cleaned up the saucepan and pots, I must have, they were all washed and dried when I woke up later on.

I took the evening medications early and was soon in the land of nod.

Waking up still a tad confused just before midnight. Not in a confident frame of mind, and Conrad Confusion present again. And the Thought-Storms active. Flibblegonkackles!

 

Inchcockski – Wed 25 Nov 20: My memory was malevolently-masticated, with maladroitness! Mmm?

TFZer Bliss ♥

Wednesday 25th November 2020

Somalian: Arbaco 25ka Nofeembar 2020

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01:25hrs: After a good five-hours (Great!) kip, I blundered back into semi-consciousness, in need of a wee-wee. Got the stomach with its dangly legs and arms attached, out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and meandered slowly, unhurridly, and with a new more acute vageness than I’ve had in a long time, off to the wet room. Took the reluctant weak wee-wee, checked on Little Inchies fungal lesion (No bleeding), washed the hands, and made my way to the kitchenette.

The ambiguous, ambivalent brain, at first, sort of went along with what the body was doing, uninterested. It’s the best way I can express how things were at that moment. I was not wholly under the control of my thoughts or emotions at all – ideas, views, fears were milling around now in the head, but I was losing then as quickly as they came?

By chance, at that moment when I was getting the milk out of the fridge for the Glengettie, I spotted the moon was out and on display.

Things seemed to click back together in the bonce, and enthusiasm returned.

I fetched the Nikon camera, opened the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new window, designed by some elderly people-hating gerascophobia or misogynist, and took these three efforts of the moon in the sky.

Cheered a smidgeon now, I got some potatoes out, got them in the crock-pot and added some Squid juice to them, and put them on a low setting.

I got the Health Checks done, as the Thought Storms began to come (I’d missed then overnight-Hehe!). The SYS is still a little high.

Well, well, and fancy that! The temperature was higher than it has ever been, at 37.6°c. I didn’t realise the read-out produced a changed colour when the figure was out of safe range, on the new thermometer. It has always been a shade of green since I’ve been using it, but not today. It’s gone to orange, next step red, I assume?

Something else to fret about. Just when Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald were being in a good mood with me this morning (up to now). In fact apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), who is still enjoying her sadistic ache-giving pain distributionalisationing, things ere so good. I’ll have to ask Mr Google about this… hang on a second. – Oh, well, I didn’t know that! Mr G says A 75-year-old male – 97°F (36.1°c) to 99°F (37.2°c). So, it’s not too far out, is it? Tsk!

I made another brew of tea for the one that went cold, and I got the medications pot. Oh, dear, I’d done it again! I’d not taken last nights doses! No wonder BPB is moaning! So I took the belated ones and got the morning tablets in the pot read to remember to take later on.

Naturally, I was full unequivocal confidence that I’d remember (I stuck a note over the top of the computer screen, Hehehe!) to remind me to take them. Ahem!

After a few hours of updating the Tuesday IT, I got the urge for the Porcelain Throne. So, off to the wet room. Fantabulous Session again! A 2-0 win for Trotsky Terence against Constipation Konrad. Smoothly evacuated with minimal pain, quick also too! Only the mess that needed cleaning up was any bother.

Back to the computer, and seeing the note I’d left for myself, I remembered to take the morning medications. With Trotsky winning the battle of the Throne, I was unsure if I needed to take any more of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules or not. After some vacillating and dithering, I decided that the thought of going back to the concrete torpedoes was scarier and painful than the embarrassment of my messing my PPs. So, I took one. But was still not sure if I’d done the right thing.

Come think of it; that could be an outstanding, and suitable epitaph for me when I snuff it, “He was never sure if he’d done the right thing!”, for on the coffin, like? Yes, I like it!

I went to check on the progress of the potatoes. I’d not turned it on at the power socket. So, I did. I do feel such a fool!

I finished the updating of the blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS were both surprisingly calm with me? Bless ’em! I Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching up. Emailed the link. And went to get some brekkers made.

A BBQ pot noodle, and the remainder of the Wholemeal Irish Soda Bread. I made some gravy to add to it, and some Squid vinegar.

It came out so nice and tasty, rich- flavoured. And I so much enjoyed it with a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m getting used to this having breakfast now, as instructed by my Doctor Vindla, and the After Stroke team. I must try to eas a smaller afternoon meal, though. The Chilli-Con-Carni and or meatballs are going down well, with a little seasoning.

I went to investigate a noise I heard, from the kitchen methinks. I took the pots to wash at the same time. I could not find the cause of the clattering sound, though? I took a picture through the window. It looked eerie, and a bit like an Alpine Village?

PPs I got a call from my Gastroenterologist, asking how I went on with the pads she’d sent me to try. I was frank with her. I told her that using these pads meant wearing normal underpants, that needed pulling up so tight with the braces, that on the two occasions I tried using them, Little Inchies fungal lesson started to bleed. And the pain of treating it, due to my phimosis problem, applying the steroid cream to stop the bleeding, was too hurtful. Three times she said: “So you prefer to use the protection pants you are buying? Each time, I replied ‘No, not prefer, but have no choice, to protect myself from bleeding!’ Each mention, added; ‘We cannot supply protection pants for you!’ On my initial consultation with her, said this five times. On her last progress call, six times.

I think I’ve got it now – They cannot supply free PP’s for me. Hahaha!

It’s still a little gloomy and dark outside. I got the nosh.

I got the CCC in the pan, added some gravy and a drop of Balsamic, and Soy sauce added to the mix.

Then checked on Jenny’s email and replied to the angel, in between getting the evening meal prepped.

I’m trying to keep up with the waste bag situation. I use the old PPs box, and this makes it easier, cause I can add the tiny bags to it as I make them up. Then, when I struggle to the waste room chute, it is easier to get them from the box on the trolley-guide down the chute.

Despite my habit of trapping my fingers in the lid, having a dizzy, misjudging distances and gathering scars and the worst at times; when the malevolent, diabolical, involuntary right-leg (Tim Price from New Mexico named) Neuropathic Pete’s (Drop-what-your-holding), Schuhplattler dance bursts forth, and the leg flails about, gathering bruises and cuts, and encouraging fear and naughty language.  Doing it this way, there is no chance of any blockages in the pipe.

The nosh was served up. Note the lack of any bread? I’d ran out! My eating all the soda bread loaf in two sittings, and forgetting to either take some out of the freezer or put a part-baked roll or baguette in the oven… Well, I did actually put two small rolls in the oven… Maybe next time, it will be better to turn the oven on first.

The Chilli-Con-Carne was on my limit, hotness-wise. This should keep things moving in the Porcelain Throne area. Har-har! A 7.8/10 for flavour rating.

Shame about no bread, but to avoid further cock-ups of this nature tomorrow, I got a packet loaf of Milk Roll bread from the freezer when I did the pots.

Sleep, even this early, I needed, and it soon arrived, off into the land of Sweet Morpheus.

The landline rang and flashed, and a feeling; a sort of, “Ah, I wonder who that is?”arrived. I felt almost sure it would be the Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR Warfarin results and new dosages nurse. She hasn’t rung me for over a fortnight now.

I struggled up out of the c1968 recliner and stubbed my toe on the chair leg. I think I silently muttered something like, “Whoops!” Ahem!

It was Obersturmbannführeress Housing Patch Manager and Pole-Dancer, Angela. She has a good clear voice when not speaking too fast, so I heard most of what was said. My replies were affected by Stuttering Stephanie, but this lady knew and replaced every word I was struggling to get out, for me.  Clever gal!

She asked about how things were, gave me advice, and showed a genuine interest in my plight. Thank you, Madam!

I had a wee-wee and somehow remembered that I’d not taken the evening medications. Got the dosage pot, back to the recliner, and painfully seated on Harold’s Haemorrhoids. and the Thought Storm raged.

Again, I forgot to take the medications! – but I did when I woke and got up, just after midnight… with Arthur Itis giving me unexpected agony in both knees? Oy Oy, Oy!

Inchy – Tues 24 Nov 20: This time, Morrisons delivered my order to the wrong flats! I couldn’t even return the unwanted substitutes sent! Deana & Julie saved the day!

The Five TFZer group performing! ♥

Tuesday 24th November 2020

Maori: Turei 24th Noema 2020

With perms in the ladies hair, or wigs?

23:45hrs: I woke up just before midnight, still in pain from BPB & AG (Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna). And Harold’s Haemorrhoids soon joined in trenchantly, the moment I moved my stomach-dominated body.

I first felt, then spotted and removed the TV remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, pencil, and crumbs from the oleaginous folds of my belly fat. Well, it made a change, Hehe!

By the time I’d fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and gingerly standing up, Haemorrhoid Harold had taken over the position as  LPAG (Lead-Pain-Ailment-Giver), the Germoloid ointment will be needed soon! Tsk!

Wee ChartA wee-wee was taken in the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).

This was of the  (Unwilling-Weak-Sprinkly) variety, but the colour was, according to the Urologists Colour-Check-Card, within the ‘Healthy’, ‘Good’ number two-level, for the first time in months. Excellent!

I tended to the Health Checks. The body temperature was the same as yesterday, at 36.8°c. The battery indicator seems to have gone up a tad today?

And, what a change in the results of the Boots BP sphygmomanometer for the SYS result!

Down to 145, from yesterdays 171? I wonder why? I’m not complaining at all, but it would be nice to know the reason.

.I remembered not being able to get out last afternoon, with the waste bags to go to the rubbish chute. Some workers were doing something and had blocked the exit. Good job there wasn’t a fire. But then again, perhaps I had been informed and had forgotten about it. I wouldn’t be amazed if this was true.

I had a nip out of the door and flats door into the lift lobby, to have a nosey. I took these photographs with the Canon camera.

I could see some plastering had been done on the near end wall. I hope the mess left on the new flooring will clean up alright when they get around to it. It appears to be just some smeared plaster, so it should buff up alright without any damage to the new floor tiles. Obviously, they will be working again today to finish the painting off.

I hope to be able to get out to the chute sometime. But as the permitted time to use the chute starts at 08:00hrs, and the workers begin at the same time, it may mean me keeping the smelly bags of waste in the hallway for another day or so before I can access the chute room. Hey-ho!

The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, a little later than usual. Off to the wet room, down on the seat, and waited for the action to start, which it didn’t! I had a go on the crosswording, read the ankle strap instruction and was about to give up when things started actioning from the rear end! I girded my loins, gritted my teeth, and winced in expectation of the upcoming pain…

The torpedo left the tube, with… wait for it… NO PAIN AT ALL! No bleeding either! Once it began slithering, it was all over and done within a minute! I hoax you not!

Fair enough, it was a tad messy, and that needed attention to detail, and time to clean up.

However, it was a delayed action jobbie, but it was as near a normal evacuation as I’ve ever had! Gawd, bless the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules! Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit! Well pleased!

 I had a concentrated blast on updating the Monday IT blog. Accepting no interruptions for tea brewing, and fortunately, the wee-weeing seemed to have dried up? I should drink more.

Anne Gyna and Back-pain-Brenda both got less severe, but Duopdenal Donald started off. Can’t win ’em all!

It took three hours, but I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a few shots, Emailed the link, and then I did some Facebooking catch-up.

Doing this, I got messages first from Norton. I needed attention: back-up, Vin and Security issues. I clicked on the amend buttons, and things seem alright now, I’ve got the green light on again? Then dropbox alerted me. I followed their instructions.

Closed the window (It said I can) while it worked, and had a peek at the feet, cause the ankle ulcer was tingling a bit. I’m not surprised, it looked to me as if it was moving up the leg, and had s new growth coming up on it?

Did another graphics, and checked on the closed window thingy for Dropbox. And it was still working away?

Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up on that.

Oh, blimey, it’s getting late! Better get a quickie ablutions session done! Even though I rushed at it (No shower), there was only eight dropsies and two tiny shaving cuts. No dizzies, but I did bash my shoulder on the door frame coming out afterwards. Another pretty good event!

I came to the front room (I haven’t got a back one, Hehe!), and thought I’d have a few nuts to nibble. Could I find them? No! Well, not least not for ages spent searching and looking in the most stupid places for the pot. I found cunningly hiding in plain view, in front of the TV. Harrumph!

I hope to catch the bus to Sherwood after the Morrison delivery has arrived and been sorted. But my EQ is telling things will not go well? Then I had a look on the web, an email had come in from Morrisons.

They’ve done it again. There were many missing and substituted items again. With my arithmophobia and dyscalculia, I can’t tell if I’ve been overcharged or not. But the total has been lowered, then again, I bought a lot of stuff on offer? Every order they do this to me. I’m cheesed of with them.

I went out on the balcony and took a photo of the sky towards the West, showing balconies of some the flats. Seconds later, the red bits in the clouds were masked, and it went dark, I felt certain that it was going to rain, but it hasn’t yet. I just thought you’d like to know, like.

I did a few more small trash bags up, and put them with the others in the big box, waiting to go to the rubbish chute. Then I was about to nip out to the lift lobby but stopped myself when I realised that the Morrison delivery driver may press the intercom at any time. Not that they have ever come on time, not for the last three deliveries anyway. With my luck, if I had gone out, they would have come at that time. Of course, they didn’t arrive again until after the given hour with the slot. So, I still don’t know if the workers have blocked the exit or not yet. This might prove a problem when the goods do arrive. Assuming they will get here eventually.

I see that ‘Grammarly’ have started doing automatic Spelling and Grammar checks now. I like it!

10:15hrs: The Morrison order has not arrived. It states clearly on the email, 09:00 > 10:00 hrs! Last delivery I had from them, I rang the company, and a recorded message told me… “You can rest assured that if we are delayed for any reason, you will be informed and told a new ETA” Rollocs! That one arrived 2½hrs late, and I didn’t hear anything from Morrisons!

Now, here I am stupid enough to give them another order! What an Eizel, Luftmensh, I am!

Found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottingham.

There I was, waiting patiently, and keeping up a semi-spirited outlook on things, despite Morrisons best efforts to get me all hot and bothered with their stupid substitutions on the way. And my £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang. Chortle! Giggle!

It was the omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Warden, and Pole Dancer, Deana. Inquiring if I had a Morrison order coming today, (The heart sank). Apparently, my super-big order, the one with the unwanted substitutions I wanted to return; Had been delivered to Winchester Court, not Woodthorpe! Flibblegonkackles Glibblebonks! Globdanglesods! Spurgledamnations! and Hogglebogwash!

Perhaps the signs are not large enough at five-storeys high and ten-foot wide? I’ll ask Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/ Catwalk Model, Angela Gould if we change the signs with added flashing lights in heliotrope and silver, and an arrow with Morrison in it, on the rooftops of each Court? Fernacklcumps!

Deana said she would bring the shopping to me. Bless Her ♥ Deana and Sturmscharführeress Catwalk Model, Warden Julie soon arrived at the flat with the belated, much-travelled Morrison order for me. Bless their cotton socks! ♥.They even brought them inside for me. I thanked them graciously, and off back to work they poddled.

The unwanted and overpaid for substituted foodstuffs, I thought Jenny’s friends who she helps could use. So I put the other stuff away, and made a carrier with the strawberry trifles, Curry flavoured pot noodles, a can of Posh Perry for Nora some other bits in it, and called to explain why I was coming down to ring on her bell. We had a good chinwag, which is always nice.

I got the box full of bags taken with me and visited the waste-chute on the way. Then down in an elevator to Jenny’s level, and put the bag outside her door, rang her bell, and had a problem turning the trolley around, and bashed my ankle-ulcer on the wheel arch, that steadied me up a bit! Jenny appeared at the door, had a look at the goods and declared they could all be made us of for someone worse off than us. That’s Jenny! ♥

Getting a lift back u[p was a smidge farcical. I ended up going down, ended up on the ground floor. But the bonus was meeting a tenants daughter and Francis and having a little natter. (Silver Lining!)

I eventually got back up to the flat and was feeling a little drained. And got on with prepping a meal. I used a can of Chilli-Con-Carne and added some gravy, Balsamic vinegar, mild chilli seasoning. Chopped some tomatoes, (A little cut) to it as well. I tried a taste, I feared it may be a tad too hot for my liking, should have left off adding the chilli powder, methinks.

On a low heat, and updated this blog, in between going to stir the fodder in the saucepan.

I put the waste from the cooking, into a little bag, and started to fill the box again.

Well tired now, I’d been up for about 13 hours or so. I concentrated on getting the meal right from then on. Turned off the computer, I can catch up on things later or in the morning. At least Anne Gyna was easing off nicely. (Thanks, Anne!) Not BPB, though, I think I may have to see the quack about her. But she started after the tumble on the wet-room, so might ease off later on. (And pigs might fly!)

I had a little review of today, Whoopsiedangleplop-wise for a moment or two… Up until the Morrison disaster, things were going well, apart from BPB giving me permanent, persistent pain, of course.

I got the Irish soda bread out. A messy crumbly feast to eat. Hahaha! Not a delicate or dainty taste, of a mealy texture, but tasty, and highly suitable for soaking up the Chilli gravy. A first-class, nonpareil, supreme loaf and depositor of crumbs on the recliner, carpet, and in my stomach folds!

I ate half of the small sliced loaf of bread with the chilli-con-carne. It was at my limit for hotness, but this didn’t stop me enjoying it, and granting a flavour-rating of 8.5/10!

Undoubtedly, one of the best Chillies I’ve had so far. As you can see by how the tray looked as I took it away to soak overnight in suds and bleach in the sink.

I got stripped (the thought makes me cringe) and settled in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep. I’d hoped putting on the TV would have a somniferous effect, but no! The thought-storms in my hypnagogia began, and the debitage of my life, the failures, the mistakes, guilt and fears, cascaded around in my head.

The  Egads, there was a mangled, menagerie of mentalese memories in there. That I could well have done without remembering!

Inchcock Today – Monday 23rd November 2020: Ailments BPB and AG in attendance. Humph!

TFZer Movie-Maker and Stars?

But only mine – the failing neurotransmitters to blame! Haha!

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Monday 23rd November 2020

Croatian: Ponedjeljak, 23 Studenog 2020

23:15hrs: I woke in a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. (Nothing unusual in that, although the early hour was a bind!) I was weary through lack of sleep, with drooping eyelids, and struggling to engage my thoughts. Hello, I’m sneezing away now!

Not that the lack of sleep bothers someone like me. A heroical, strong, young, fit, healthy, virile, confident, handsome, stouthearted, very-much loved and admired, intrepidly courageous, health enthusiast, fitness fanatic, well-educated, keen outdoor adventuring enthusiast… Well, I may have just over-hyperbolised things there, a smidge) 

As the grey-cells regained a weak form of logicality; I dragged my bouncy-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. And I rose up on my painful overgrown toenailed feet. I caught my balance, as per the After-Stroke Teams instructions.  But had to skip the last bit, as the need for the Throne was growing more urgent by the second.

This session gave me a pleasant surprise! I got down on the plastic lid, and straight away the evacuation flowed. It was a long one, but that didn’t matter – It was totally pain-free! No bleeding either! Messy, though, very! Then having to clean me and the WC furniture, which took me ages, took the edge off of the, well, almost pleasure of super-easy pooing! Not that I was excited, for every Throne visit lately is totally different, which the Gastrointestinal Doctor Gupta had told me may happen for a few months. I just hadn’t expected the differentiations to be so acute on each visit. After the passing, BPB was soon starting to ache much worse?

I sorted out the Health Checks. Heck of a shock when the sphygmomanometer gave out the SYS reading of 171. Blimusigational! Yesterdays was only 148? I wonder why this happened? Ah, well, must press on, so I got the new thermometer out.

A reasonable reading of 68.8°c. Well, at least that was fair enough.

I went to get the medications out – and shame and disgust at myself again! I’d not taken last nights doses, yet again!

So, I took them then. Now I must remember to take the morning ones in a few hours.

It’s all very most confusing life is, when you’re nearing the end of it, and the old previously so reliable memory becomes unpredictable and a hit-and-miss affair. Hogglebogwash!

I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and I got side-tracked. (Hard to believe, me getting divagated, but, there you are... Hehe!) I took off the grey zip-up jumper I had on and set to washing it. Why I did this is still unknown to me, it was at the time I did it!

When the handwashing was finally, done- wrung and hung above the sink, to drip away drying, I had to clean up the mess I’d made doing the hand laundering. The floor had to be dried of sudsy water, the dropped and knocked-over items retrieved from where they had landed, and or rolled to, and the sink and counters washed.

I got back to making a brew of tea again, got the kettle reboiling, and noticed the small but beautiful quarter-moon was out in the now morning sky. I got the Nikon camera and took this photograph in Night Landscape mode.

Got the computer booted up, and uploaded this morning’s pictures. (Still doing some sneezing here). Then started to update the Sunday diary.

But this did not last for long. BPB started to get crescively more painful. So I hobbled to the wet room, and applied as best I might, a dollop of Phorpain gel to the affected areas, and rubbed it in as well as I could. It made no difference, though. Klunglefrazzles! 

I’m sorry I bothered now, cause coming out of the wet-room, I hit my right shoulder on the edge of the doorframe, and now SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) has joined DD and BPB harassing me! Criggleblogglesworthisms! How much more of this can one man take!

Of course, I’m not really bothered, whatsoever.

I got the blog updating finished. Posted it off. Pinterested a few snaps. Went on Facebooking, then sent the link off via Email. I went on CorelDraw again, to try and get some page top graphics done for the TFZer pictures.

After about two or three days, I’d got two graphics done… Well, it felt that long to me! Nicodemus has joined at ailment army now. However, a Silver-Lining search result: Duodenmal Donald departed the battlefield, for some R & R? Hahaha! The main offender now is Anne Gyna.

Then, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne for the second time. Messy in the extreme, a tad more painful, but over so quickly, and no bleeding. Far less volume this time I thought, not that I weighed it or anything. Cackle! Titter! Hehe! Cleared the evacuated product with one flush, as well! Yeehaa!

I decided to see what slots J Sainsbury had available. I wasn’t too keen on using them after the last cock-up with substitutes and damaged goods, but I dare not use Morrisons to get my Chilli-Con-Carne, after they substituted 2 cans of their cheap (69p) CCC, with their best ones, at £2.58! And the utterly crap MCains peppered chips as a substitute for the Morrisons Sweet Potato battered fritters. Apart from there were no sweet potatoes or batter, the sub was okay. Swine!

Swine again now! So, I made up an order with Sainsbury’s, for Sunday 29th November, twixt 0800>09:00hrs. I made a point of working out how to opt for ‘no substitutes’, but I got it wrong, and could not reaccess the list! As it happened, I’d missed off the BBQ super-noodles from the order, so I went in to edit it again, add the pots to it. And got the no substitutions and added the CCC, and bread to that list.

I also found that I have a refund coupon, well, two of them, so clicked on the activate buttons. Then found an option that if I spent £60, I could get £9 off of the order? So I clicked that, but I had to, unfortunately having to increase the ordered items to reach the total. As I updated, I got a long-winded message telling that because I had chosen so many items with the No-Substitute on them, if the total is not reached, I’d forfeit the £9 off-offer. See their substitution rulings! Cobblers!

I knew that Hristina was calling later today, so got the ablutions sorted out next. 

And what a feast of flipping, fiascos, faux pas, foul-ups, fluffs, follies, fatuous-farcicalisations this session was!

  • I got in the wet-room and moving the shower chair, I let it slip from my grasp. Or rather Nicodemus did. (You can see the bruise in the photos later!
  • The gums bled when I was doing the teeth!
  • A few nicks when shaving (5).
  • A stubbed toe when moving the sock glide out of the way to prepare the shower.
  • I bent down to pick up the dropped shower gel bottle and hit my head on the grab bar!
  • This started BPB off again!
  • As I was drying off, I put on the new glasses, and the lens fell out of the frame! Grrr!
  • Moving the chair back under the shower, I gave myself another toe-stubbing (At least this one was not too bad).
  • The medicationing started poor little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
  • Finally, on leaving the room, I was intent on not hitting the door frame again this time, and I didn’t. But as I turned to collect the forgotten to take with me wristlet alarm, I knocked most of the stuff off of floor cabinet when I had a balance loss moment!

Not one of my bestest ablution sessions! I was so irate with myself.

With all the clearing up, extra medicalisationing, I think that this session took me about an hour and a half!  I don’t think I’m one of the luckiest tenant’s in here, am I?

But then again, I already knew that.

At least apart from the bruised foot, bloodied lesion, shaving cuts, bashed head, stubbed toes, and Back-Pain-Benda back to her painful best, I feel I have nothing to complain about really. Much!

At least I had a visit for Hristina, my precious Vampire Nurse to come. (An inner smile glowed!)

After I’d calmed down, and was sorting out some waste bags, the front door chimes chimed out. It was Josie returning the dinner things. She mentioned how she’s enjoyed it so much. Which was good, and semi-cheered me up a soupçon.

I got back on the computer, and fear that I’d left something undone, not done, in the wet-room, forced me to get back there and have a check, that all was okay. I’d left the clothes I’d used in the ablutions and medical tendings, and washed on the support bracket.

The intercom flashed. It was Hristina, my beloved Vampire phlebotomy nurse who’d arrived. She rang the intercom at 11:45hrs.

By EQ recognised that she looked full of angst and tensed up, bless her. And no wonder, as she said while whipping out my blood: Only one lift working in the block, hard to find a parking space, extra clients added to her list,  stressed the Angel.

Although she gave no obvious signs and tried to speak in her usual comforting way, the speed of her words revealed the pressure she was under. I don’t think she was with me for more than five minutes. Beautiful, enjoyable minutes, though. ♥

After she had gone, and I lowered my sprits and sulked a little, and did some updating on this diary.

I turned of the computer, feeling a tad down and weary now. I got the waste bags, a lot of them had built up. This is because we have to use tiny bags now since the upgrade, so as not to block the chute, as has often been the case in the past, and cost a fortune to sort out.

I got them on the box and not the three-wheeled walker, and with some difficulty, got the trolley out through the door. (For the first time in a few days, I twisted my back getting the guide over the raised doorstop, and BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) gave me an electric-like shock, and hurt on of a level 7/10 pain-wise, and has stayed with me all night and into the morning!)

Struggling even more to open the door to the lift lobby (BPB), as I got halfway through the door, there were working signs and equipment all over the place, and at the end of the lobby, three workers, who turned to look at me – offered me a look of contempt, a sneer, and a scowl. No way though – I’m sure I hadn’t been informed of these workings? But who knows, with my memory!

So, I was going nowhere.  I made my way with difficulty back into the flat’s lobby and returned to flat. Storing the trolley back in its corner in the hallway, obviously with the full of waste bags box still on top of it. And BPB really giving me some stick now!

I took the evening medications, with an extra Codeine 60g, and as best I could, offered Back-Pain-Brenda some PHorgpain Gel where I could reach to. Hoping, foolishly perhaps, that it might calm her down a bit. I was now in a right picklement, BPB and Anne Gyna bother having sadistic fun with me. Argh!

I got the meal prepped. A different type tonight, the Beef Curry, had a ring-pull opener on it, so I tried it. Got some potato letters in the oven cooking. Then considered the seasoning, that might be required for the curry. First I got it in the saucepan and tried a spoonful as it slowly heated up. I could not detect any curry. I decided on some balsamic vinegar and made-up some gravy with vegetable stock and added it to the mix. Put some Soy sauce into the mix. Fingers crossed. Not that I was too bothered, with BPB and AG for both still nagging away at me.

Nosh was served up, and I wanted to show how I felt and decided I’d put my views in potato-letters on top of the fodder. Just my luck, all those letters I cooked, and no letter T! Hahaha! Not to be beaten, I nibbled an H and used that to give my message to the world via the internet and this photo. Daft, I know, but I was in so much pain and fed-up with it.

I got the saucepan and tray washed, and took the meal though to the recliner, and eventually got my poor old back settled in a position that was not too uncomfortable. Of course, by then the food was not very hot! Globdanglesods!

I wasn’t going to go through the agony of getting up to reheat it, so I tucked into the bowl of beef curry. Notwithstanding, nevertheless, and however, the taste was not too bad at all. Had the meal been warmer, it may have got a better Flavour Rating than the 6.5/10 I gave it. The other can of beef curry in the cupboard will be used later, and not rust away or be given away.

It took a long time eating though. The moment I moved to get up and do the washing of the plate bowl and cutlery, BPB started again. Oy, Oy, Oy! Did I feel it, too!

Eventually, I got washed, stripped down, and back in the c1968 recliner again. Gawd know how long it took me to find a position that BPB would tolerate a little better – I expected the worst… needing a wee-wee, sneezing, or wanting the Porcelain Throne and having to move again. But nae bother!

Not that man like me was concerned over a little pain and agony, of course. Ahem! The prayer and confession I offered up, brought no reply or relief.

Surprisingly, I nodded off quickly. Waking up just before midnight, still in pain. I removed the remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, and crumbs from my folds in my belly fat…

Inchcocksi – Sunday 22nd November 2020: Ailments in a bad mood, and I did a lot of wittering

TFZers, but where are they?

Sunday 22nd November 2020

Greek: Κυριακή 22 Νοεμβρίου 2020

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Last night, try as I did, and I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I got up, finished and posted off the blog. Nodded-off again! Yee-Haa!

02:45hrs: I woke (three-often-interrupted-for-wee-wees hours) in need of a wee-wee, but not urgently. I sensed and felt around the ailments, wriggled a bit and tested the legs, arms, wrists, ankles and torso, to try and self-diagnose, the little blighter’s veracity this morning.

I soon discovered that DD (Duodenal Donald) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), (later on joined by Anne Gyna – badly), yesterdays agonies that were given to me, were both top-of-the-heap again, pain-wise.

But the search for a silver-lining revealed that Arthur Itis,  Reflux Roger, Cartilidge Cathy, Shaking Shaun and Saccades-Sandra and others, were seemingly in am empathetic mood with me! Bless ’em! So, as I tackled the mountainous task of heaving my crassulent, flabby, boing-boinging-stomached body from the clutches of the c1968 recliner, I adopted a kind-off; Hey-Ho!, attitude?

Having gone through the After-Stroke teams recommended balance-catching routine, the hobble to the wet room, was a struggle, but not for the usual reasons.  No straight loss of balance, no Dizzy Dennis, nor Arthur Itis problems! Just a difficulty with the misjudging of distances to my right-side. Had there been a CCTV in the flat, it would have reminded any viewer of Freddie Frinton and the Ministry of Funny walks! Hehehe! But, there was no going into anything or tumbles on the way to the wet room, and the need of the Porcelain Throne arose en route.

How can things with the innards change so often? I’d been sat down for a few seconds, and without any warning, the evacuation began. Ooh, argh! And all done! No mess, no bleeding at all! How so much came out in such a little time amazed me! A bit of discomfort, but no pain as such, either! A 1-1 draw, between Constipation Konrad and Diarorrea Duncan. And, one flush cleared the elephantine mass away, too!

Anne Gyna was now taking over as Primo-Pain-Profferer, as I got in the kitchenette to make a brew. Got the kettle on and took this half-decent, semi-zoomed photograph, of the morning view, from the hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking window.

Maed a mug of Glengettie tea, and into the main room to do the Health Checks and take the medications.

Anne Gyna was continuing to give me grief! I must ask the Doctor about this on Monday, or ring 111, but they only tell you to see your Doctor, which is not going to be easy.

Got the sphygmomanometerisationing was done. The SYS was well down on yesterdays reading, at only 142! The pulse up a tad at 90, but I don’t think that’s a problem… I’ll ask Dr Google. Yep, okay! ‘Between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm)’

During the time since the Porcelain Throne visit, I’ve wee-wee’d eight times? Ah, well! I took the medications, with an extra Dioctyl® capsule, and Codeine 600g, but it isn’t helping ease Anne Gyna in the slightest, fed-up with this. But I reckon it did ease BPB later.

I made a start on this blog, in between several more SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) wees.

Then went on CorelDraw, to do a few graphics for the diary-top.

Getting artwork from the web to amend, I found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottinghamshire.

Blimey, Anne Gyna is giving me some high-quality hurtful stabbings! I had a wee-wee, and ent to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. I made up some small waste bags while the kettle boiled, and put them in the box, and onto the three-wheeled walker, ready to go down with some others later on.

Back to CorelDrawing. I ended up sorting some files out that I’d got mixed up, but still haven’t got any graphics done – Humph!

The feet were humming a little, so I took a look at them. They were fluid-retentioning again, I think, and the nails getting longer than ever!

I got the ablutionalisationing done. Not too much bother, not the showering caused owt worth mentioning. Multi-dropsies and a crack on the back of the head, when I was getting back up after retrieving the shoer-gel bottle for the umpteenth time.

The dressing was a struggle, and the medicationalisationing went well enough.

Then I got the small waste bags added to and stacked them in the box on the trolley-walker guide.

As I was doing this, the landline flashed and rang. It was Brother in law, Pete. We had a good chinwag. I was updated, on how Pete’s radiation treatments for his cancer had gone.

Next week he goes back for a cat-scan again, to have a look at how things are reacting the treatment he’s had. Fingers crossed! I told him Tim and Billumski on WordPress sent there best wishes.

Cheered him up a bit, I think!

Back to the rubbish sorting. Out and along by the lift lobby to the waste room chute.

Bit of a farce getting into the room. A bigger struggle to get the bags into the tiny opening. Trapped the finger (the same one as yesterday) in the heavy metal lid.
A further kerfuffle getting the trolley out of the chute-room, trapped my ankle against the door and wheels of the guide. Well, it stops me getting bored, dunnit! Hahaha!

I took this photograph from the window near the waste-room door. Some Crows were flying about, but by the time I’d got the camera out they were long gone.

I even managed another moment to have a hullabaloo going back to the flat. A cracking well aimed for maximum pain, toe-stubbing, against the trolley!

I think I said ‘Well, fancy that!’ at the time.

I returned back to the flat and got on with doing Josie’s nosh.

I felt a little unexpectedly irritable with myself while doing the food prepping, but buggered if I know why? Got the meal delivered dead-on time again, midday! This is not the real meal delivered today, I forgot to p[picture it, and used an old one – Cheat!

Things went pear-shaped then! I had to go for another Porcelain Throne visit. So much blood came out, everything else of the visit was unimportant and forgettable. So I forgot it! I spent a good while cleaning up and medication, during which I found that both Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding! This actually eased the mind, at least I know why all that flood of blood escaped. Not feeling so good, now.

It made the PPs look pretty in red and white, though. Hahaha!

All calmed down now, I had a very late brekkers of the left-over cheesy potatoes with chives, sea salt, Leicester cheese and butter, from Josie’s nosh. Jolly good they tasted too!

BPB and DD were both still in attendance, and I was trying to do some graphicalisationing, but it was a hard slog with the concentration all shot.

And early head down was demanded. So I got on with making the main meal.

I added some tomatoes and peas to the Chilli-Con-Carne in the saucepan and made sure I checked it every few minutes, in between doing a Thoughts graphic for later use.

Put some part-baked rolls into the oven, and turned off Computer Katie.

Made up the evening pots of medications and put it on the ottoman, to take while eating. (Unfortunately, I failed to do so, but corrected this later when I woke up).

As you can see, I didn’t manage to eat all of the Chilli-Con-Carne meal, all as part of my self, and Doctor-imposed new diet. (Ahem!)

As I got down to watch something on TV, erm… whatever it was, Anne Gyna suddenly stopped her day-long marathon of giving me grief, it was like an Angel turning off a tap! Although Duodenal Donald and Back-Pain-Brenda were continuing with their assault, the relief at Anne Gyna retreating from the battle was almost frabjous, and appreciated!

Ah, yes, gorrit! It was an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that I wanted to watch, with Gordon… Hang on, that’s wrong… Erm,  ah, Kitchen Nightmare. The brain’s going on one of its ‘Work-to-Rule’ episodes, again.

I watched the first part, and when the adverts came on, I thought I’ll nip through and get the pots in the sink to soak, which I did. It took me that long to get up, simply put the cutlery, dish and tray in the sink, and get back, and the next part of the programme had started. And we all know how long the Freeview commercial breaks can last! Hehehe!

At the second commercial break, I remember seeing the evening medications still in the plastic pot on the ottoman – and vaguely thinking, I’ll take them now… and I fell asleep!

I woke at 23:00hrs. Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Impetuously – Sat 21st Nov 2020: Worst Day for months. Oy, Oy, Oy!

Henry mountaineering on Janet! ♥ Hahaha!

Saturday 21st November 2020

Finnish: Lauantai 21 Marraskuuta 2020

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Due to ailments, this will have to be a short version of the day ________________________________________________________________________________

23:45hrs: Stirred, Wee-wee. Pains. Mug of Thompsons Punjana. Medications, extra Codeine taken.

Between working on the Friday post, going to the Porcelain Throne, and constantly having to tend to Little Inches fungal lesion bleeds, and hell from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda); the wee-wees dried up and became rare indeed.

I did the Health Checks were done. All figures not pf much interest to me, I’m afraid. I had so many of the old ailments ganging up on me.

Three hours after starting it, I finished and posted the blog. Facebooked, and went on the WordPress Reader section, and Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters started giving up sending messages to the brain. Making things go so slow and frustrating for me. What next?

BBB, Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra all offered  Nick support in making the day one of the worst for months for me.

I did the BP, the SYS was up for the first time in a few days. Fancy that!

Then the Porcelain Throne was attended. More bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids now, as well as poor Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. But the motion was back to an unwillingness to move concrete-mega-torpedo. No doubt about it, Constipation Konrad had the upper hand over Diarroreah Duncan and Trotsky Terence today. But most likely it’s my own fault, I’m not sure if I took the Dioctyl® poo-softeners or not last night. I took an extra one afterwards.

Well, as I went into the kitchen to make a brew and take a photo of the morning sky now, it was beginning to lighten a little. And Duodenal Donald kicked off. The stabbing pains being as low in the gut as they were, was indicating, judging by past experiences that Donald (or, I) was in for a long haul.

But I was determined to get some Templates made up. I was full of grit, determination, stupidity and agony. Spurgledamnations!

Then a real ailments-causing, marathon (over seven-hours!) session of making up templates. After which I got a very late brekkers of noodles and some biscuits. Pickleglobknobs and Simper! Hahaha! What am I laughing for?

I somehow got them done, and was not up to much then. I got down in the recliner, the headphones on, and listened to some classical music, half-hoping to fall asleep.

But, no! I reckon over the next three hours I must have nodded off at least twenty times, but it was only for a minute or two each time. On the umpteenth waking up, I decided if I didn’t get up now, I’d never get this blog done, I’d not even started it yet, although I’d got the template ready at least. It was well beyond my usual head-down time now, and confusion had joined the ailments.

: I got the kettle on, thought about if eating was a good idea or not. (Duodenal Donald was so vicious!) I added some gravy, Soy sauce and garden peas to the CCC (Chilli-Con-Carni) in the pan, to make my mind up later. Then, the wee-wees started coming suddenly – and kept on and on coming! Grunglebogknickers!

I was semi-proud of myself for tackling this blog so late, and in the condition I was. But I didn’t start it, due to the Porcelain Throne Session demands, mark 2 arriving.

I really didn’t think there was any rush, so made the Glengettie and left it to brew, and meandered staggeringly to the wet-room. Shogglebogights! The damned evacuation started of its own accord before I got myself sat down!

Total embarrassment! Shame! Self-Disgust and Feeling-Sorry-For-Myself modes all at the in unison! This time it was like rock-hard meatballs! A lot more painful, plenty of bleeding, and, of course, followed by the job of cleaning up the body-parts, and wet room floor! Good job I bought the expensive break-the-bank-account Germoloid Ointment! It really is so cooling and effective!

I Cleaned up and back to the kitchen to put the milk in the Glengettie. Oy, Oy, Oy! Nicodemus ensured that I dropped the milk carton – at first, this was a point of pride… I’ll explain further: I’d not taken off the cap of the bottle, and managed, and a bit of juggling with it, to catch it in mid-air so to speak – a smile of self-contentment broke out.

Then I lost my balance, went over to my right, and grabbed the counter to stop my going over, and I proceeded to knock the things off of the draining board.

I was so disappointed with myself, the items are still there now! As I bent to begin retrieving them, BPB gave me such agony, I gave up, wailed silently, simpered, and even threw the now cold tea away!

Yet found the concentration to get this blog finished early. If anything else occurs, I can add it Sundays post.

I got a wash and down in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep again.

I was still there, pee’d off with having to get up so often to pee, two hours later.

Got the computer on and sent this off to WordPress.

Today was a nothing day. One of the worst for ailments in ages!

Grumbleclonkackers!

Inchcock Today – Friday 20th November 2020: I think I’ve caught euphobia?

Yee-Haa!

Friday 20th November 2020

Welsh! Dydd Gwener 20fed Tachwedd 2020


23:30hrs: BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was with me from the instant I stirred from my slumber. She was in a fiery-mood before I attempted to move, and got more severe when I tried to free my grossly overweighted, mega-flobby-stomached body onto my feet.

As the need for the Porcelain Throne became obvious, I dare not rush, because the balance was taking its time in settling things this morning. I had to take the risk of delaying things until I was steady on pins, and was semi-symphonious in mind and body, to ensure I’d get to the wet-room without and tumbles or Accifauxpas. The risk of some escapages was high. I arrived in the room, in what seemed a long, long time, and I was in time too, to evade any plop-outs! No leaks en route! Phew!

I whipped down the jammy-bottoms and PPs, had barely settled on the plastic seat, and the motion started of its own accord. It was more painful than yesterdays efforts, but Troksy Terence beat Constipation Konrad, 3-1! A much easier evacuation, quicker, and only a smidgeon of bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Not as messy either. Smug-Mode-Adopted! 

I cleaned up and went to get the medicationalisationing done. Felt a twit again, when I found last nights tablets in the pot, untaken, obviously. So, this is the third morning I’ve found this had happened! So I took the tablets, applied the Phorpain gel, guzzled some of the pathetically weak Peptac medicine, and put in the Saccades Sandra drops in the eyes. Bit of a job innit, gerrin’ up. Hehehe! I took an extra Codeine 60mg, as BPB was still nagging away at me, and I had Anne Gyna beginning to stab all around the chest as well now. Also, I made sure I took the Dioctyl® capsule, that is important not to miss, as it is just beginning to win the fight against Conrad Constipation, and I do not want to end up on the Throne for hours at a time again!

The blood pressure was down a decent amount, to 152/72. Which was unexpected and welcome. We’ll see wots wot, next time! I mustn’t get too excited. Simper!

The temperature was up a bit, too 36.8° c, the highest it’s been for months. I think this is a good sign, too?

I got the computer on, and back to the wet-room for Porcelain Throne session No.2!

No rushing to get there this time. A repeat style of evacuation as the one earlier, but with a bit less pain involved, Super!

I got on with updating the Friday blog. Not a lot left to do on it, uploading the photos took a while, but it was soon all done, a lot more time checking and double-checking, and got posted off.

I emailed the link. Went on the WordPress reader, some fantastic stuff of there today. Then Pinterested a few pictures. Answered some comments, and caught up on Facebooking.

Made the first mug of Glengettie of the day, and took a picture from the unwanted, light & view-blocking kitchen window. It wasn’t top quality, but it showed the lights along Winchester Street at the back and Ramsdale Crescent, closest.

I made the brew, and brought it to the computer and booted it up. I made a start on this blog for a few hours and stopped around 06:30hrs, as the ablutions would soon be needed to be done before the Iceland delivery arrived, that would be anywhere twixt 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Well, Back to the Porcelain Throne again, for the third time! Pilestosufferagaintime! So, I opted to get the Ablutionalisaitoning done at the same time. I’m assuming that I made a mistake (No, it does sometimes happen, Chortle!), altered timing of the medications.

Which was due to my stupidity, puerility, cretinism, and asininity in missing the evening medication-taking for the last three nights. But it didn’t bother me at all. Egads! 

This third Throne affair was not as good as the earlier two were. Humbugski! Only because Harold’s Haemorrhoids poured out the blood so freely. Took me ages to stop the flow, medicate things and clean up. Then I had to get a scuttle on with the ablutioning.

But it went okay. Had it not been for the teeth bleeding, a few little nicks shaving, at least a dozen dropsies, my clearing the cabinet of all the items, giving myself a knock on the head while trying to get down using the picker-upperer to retrieve the ointments, tablets, sprays and olive oil from where they had to fall, behind the cistern. Why in hell, couldn’t they have fallen on the free open space on the floor? Skullclogglebonks!

Ah, well, at least the pins and toes, although mega-pale, were looking, and feeling okay and alright this flipping Friday morning.

When I came out, the lighting and colours outside looked unreal, as if the Lord had just repainted them.

So, once I’d dressed. I got my Nokia camera and took these three pictures. (Ah! I meant the Nikon camera, sorry). Mr Billumski, the Ohio State RCM (Red Car Monitoring) President, will be interested in the great number on sight in the road and car parks today? Or not! 

The photo I took straight ahead from the balcony window (That’s the one with the habit of the metal-spring-clip that needs pushing and pulling at the same time to open or close and have mangled many a finger, mine and even the NCH fitters, sent to mend them!) I’m waffling again, forgive me. The colouring kept changing, and the weak sunshine was covered by the clouds, but I managed to catch it this time. Bootiful!

I got the ‘YourArea’ magazine opened, and found some Coronavirus figures on it. At first glance, it appeared a little scary, but on closer inspection, the 878 figure was for the last seven days. Which us about 40% down on the rolling total.

But the crime figures I found for Sherwood, didn’t look too good! I copied this article for a bit of interest. Incidentally, between the two other people I’ve actually spoken to this week, and myself; None of us has seen a uniformed policeman in Sherwood for months now! Not good! I love the comment from the Neighbourhood Police Inspector!


Did some work, updating my personal dictionary, and the Iceland delivery man, he rangeth the intercom. I pressed the release button, and two Nottingham City Homes men were leaving as he entered.

I feel it only fair, to inform the gentlemen, that for a few second, we can hear what they are saying when someone calls us. I’ll say no more!

The gentleman dropped the bags inside the door for me and was looking a tad stressed. I assumed this was with his being running behind on his deliveries a little. So, I slipped him a can of plonk and thanked him profusely. Which cheered him a little and brought a half-smile to his face, which in turn, cheered me up!

I moved the carrier bags into the kitchen. I seem to have bought more than usual? Then set about storing the purchases away. I soon realised that I’d bought some Christmas treats on this order, that was why there seemed a lot.

The cleaners I put in the main junk room. I’d only bought one bag of frozen, potatoes shapes, and had worked out I could just about get it in the fridge. But it was a 50% Extra Free bag. So had a job on making room to get it to go in the drawer. Hahaha!

I got the hands wet with the ice, and (without thinking, as usual) l rang the hot water tap to wash and dry the hand. But I got sidetracked when I dropped a packet of biscuits. So I fetched the picker-upperer to retrieve them with, as I say, unthinkingly leaving the hot water tao running, I returned and dipped my hand in the bowl… Aghh! I ran cold water on it for ages, then rubbed some Savlon in the skin. What an Eizel!

When I got around to putting the things in the fridge, another struggle, moving things around to get the new fodder to go in, Tsk! I split the red grapes in half and put them in a carrier in the original box to take down to Jenny. I added one of her Christmas treats and a bag of wholemeal cobs. Well, they were such a good offer price, but I had to buy two packs to get the offer. And thought of Jenny, Doris and the charity she supports so much. Waste not, want not!

I then got the three-wheeler guide and put them in it, to take down to Jen’s apartment. I got down, rang her bell, and came back up in the elevator.

As I turned, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) was giving me more discomfort, I can’t understand what set her off this morning? I had the struggle to get the trolley back in the door again. Something else that confuses me, I’ve never had bother like this getting in the door before, until this week? Most peculiar?

As I was getting ready to take some more photographs, it suddenly went so dark.

And yet, by the time I grabbed the camera, the sun was out, but obviously only through a small hole in the clouds.

I took a well-zoomed-in shot of the kiddies play area in Woodthorpe Grange Park. A few folks out there enjoying themselves, and was so pleased to see them all being good and observing the social-distancing rules, bless ’em.

I was getting a little weary now, and wondered on what to have for my nosh. I opted for smoked streaky bacon (from Germany this time from Iceland, last week it was from Poland, but it looked a bit fatty!) I only have two tins of tomatoes left, neither of them with a ring-pull opener.

I tried the new battery-operated one, but no luck with getting it to do anything yet. I read the instruction once more. I was about to make a change in plans, no way do I want to use the old finger-cutting one again; And, I tried the old-new one, Gotten-Himmel, it worked – but not all the way around the lid! I got the oven glove and carefully as I could, opened it far enough to pour the chopped tomatoes into the saucepan! Smug-Mode Grade2 Adopted.

I put the bacon on a tray and into the oven with it. Then investigated which seasoning to use. I got carried away I think, I added some Hickory, Soy Sauce, Squid vinegar and mild chilli powder. GAve it a good stirring, while thinking what a twit I was using these additions. Yet, after stirring for ages, I tried a spoonful, and I liked it! I’ll wait to see what it tastes like with the bacon in, before getting carried away. Hahaha!

It was grand! The wholemeal cobs were flavourful. Taste-Rating 8/10. It was devoured with delight!

All-in-all, a mixed day ailment-wise. I’ve had worse, much worse.

Obersturmbannführeress Deana popped in for a quick How yer doing?

Then, I had a wash, took the medications (Aha, I remembered!), and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus – and it didn’t take long to find!

Inchcock – Thurs 19 Nov 20: Soylent Green Memories Prompted!

TFZer discrete meeting? Hahaha! ♥

Thursday 19th November 2020

Danish: Torsdag den 19 November 2020

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00:40hrs: It all happened in a sort of slow-motion, to start with. I semi-woke up and lay there pondering the upcoming opportunities this dedicated ‘Toilet Day’, of 12th November, had to offer.

What Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Disasters, Failures, Stalemates, Mental-implosions, Frustrations, Defeats, Katzenjammers, Nonachievements, Babalaases, Pitfalls, Disappointments, Mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum, to torment and frighten the bejesus out of me; that might present themselves this Thursday.

Oddly enough, as I was thinking of this ‘Dedicated Toilet Day’, as I was removing my potbellied, portly, wobbling, paunched-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, a borborygmic mini-explosion from the innards, signalled the expergefactorial need for the Porcelain Throne. I thought it would be a good idea, if I didn’t delay, and got to the Porcelain Throne with all haste! So, I did!

Not only did I get to the wet room without any bother, (Well, there was a short loss of balance, but that was my own fault for not catching it as I grabbed Metal Micky), and that only lasted a few seconds without any detrimental damage or injury.

What followed was most encouraging. This session was the even less painful, no enteralgia, no bleeding!

And comfortably evacuated; This is first-time that this has happened in many a month! Yee-Haa! But I knew this could not last for long. But I  enjoyed it while it lasted.

Mind you, the poo colour was a sort of green. Still, it made a change: super-easy passage, and a pretty new colour for me to photograph for the gastroenterologist’s Neurogenic bladder and bowel management record.

I was tickled-pink, started singing to myself! (The Young Ones – Cliff Richard) As I was getting up to sort the cleaning up, I spotted the gunk-cleaner on the shower floor, that I’d left to soak in last night – and had forgotten all about doing! Oh, dear!

I went out to the hallway and turned on the shower-power at the box. Back in and as carefully as I could, got the shower on and I sprayed the cleaner away…

But it looked far worse than it did before my orgulous bright-spark of an idea was used.

Humph and Knackwrangles!

And then, of course, to completely demolish the memory of the successful Throne session and semi-contentment of the marvellous evacuation; The moment I moved the showerhead into the right hand so I could turn off the water, and Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed, and the showerhead flailed all over the place. This resulted in my attempt to retrieve the moving water-jetting, hose-pipe like head, I had a tumble to the floor and got an early morning closed up shower, and soaked the jammy bottoms and me, and I got a few knocks new and bangs, in the process! Tsk!

The struggle to get back up, the cleaning and sorting out, were done in a silent, stewing mood, ruminating and chewing the cud; determined not to get in a sulky frame of mind at the return of my devil’s own luck, and eventually affirmed it as just a tribulation. I was pleased with myself then, at how I’d talked myself into just accepting things, knowing these incidents will only get worse as the neurotransmitters slowly die anyway. Confusingly, sometimes it’s like this, others, I get all het-up, cursing my fate, and start Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna off, but not on this occasion? I sort of habituated, adapted to the situation. I’ve no idea why this is so, but I’m pretty content and stilled about things now.

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and realised than yet again, I’d not taken the evening medications! What an Ahntoisht, Shilmazel! So I took the evenings doses, and hope that I remember in size hours or so, to take the morning ones. Putz!

I carried out the Health Checks. The sphygmomanometerisationing first. But I didn’t fret over this reading, no doubt the falling over altercation had effected the reading, I’m sure.

The new thermometer did not work first try. Do I turned it off and back on again, and got this disappointingly low reading, again though, this is probably due to the fracas in the wet-room?

I got on the computer and started to update the Wednesday blog. Which was done in a reasonable time for once, the ailments seem to be feeling sorry for my tumble, and are being kind to me perhaps? (I might be losing it again here!)

I poddled to the wet-room, for another wee-wee, and when I got back, I noticed the veins in the left arm were almost luminescent? And, odd;y they looked a little greener than usual?  When I took this photo, I used the flash, and it came out looking more strange than it really looked, but I WordPressed it anyway, cause it looked so odd. A camera glitch? Anyway, it made me think of Soylent Green. Hahaha!

Of course, it might just be one of the resident Woodthorpe Court mysterious Eidolons, Goblins, or Aliens, that are checking out my innards. The Chilli-Meatballs last night might have confused them? Chortle! Cackle! Guffaw!

I got the updating finished and sent off. Then emailed the link.

Pinterested some snaps, the got the ablutions sorted out. Well, I started to anyway. But I remembered the morning dosages needed to be taken, so returned and tool them, then back to the wet-room.

I noticed as I stripped off (a horrible, harrowing thought for you, I’m sorry. Hehe!), that I must have picked up in the tumble. Pretty scratch, though! Hahaha!

The teeth cleaning went fine.

The shaving surprisingly, only brought about two tiny weeny nicks, not worthy of mention really, but it’s too late now, I have written it. Simper!

I found one of the miniature wounds from the Accifauxpas on the right-hand knuckle. I seem to have picked up some nicks and bruises, ain’t I? However, the showering, which was something I was a smidge concerned about with the balance not yet back to normal, went great! No Dizzy Dennis’s, there was not a single clout or banging into anything, I was well pleased again.

The medicating was as smooth as could be expected! No bleeding from Harold’s Haemorrhoids or Little Inchies fungal lesion! The dressing was only bothered temporarily by a dodgy-wobble getting the trousers on, but I remained on my feet, Oh. Yes! This is a better day, up to now! Perhaps, my prayer and a few words to Mr G the other day had got through? Or, not! Snortle!

I was in good form after the ablutions, and set about moving the hand-washed togs about, to nearer the heater, now they had stopped dripping.

That reminds me of when I was a whipper-snapper! Every Saturday morning, come rain or shine; after I’d set and laid the fire, and done my paper rounds, I had to go to Sanderson’s Tripe & Cow Heel shop, on Arkwright Street, and wait (sometimes for hours), to claim the ham bone, once enough had been sliced and sold, 3d (Threepence it was)  And heaven help me if I couldn’t get it! Dad would not be happy with me at all!

This look like the original shop, I could find a photo of when they were open. Gawd the place smelt gorgeous! Once a fortnight I had to some tripe as well. Every week, the jellied pork dripping they sold, 9p a pound (weight) was bought as well. Oh, the memories are flooding back now! Of course, when Dad was working on a Saturday, meant I had a few hours of waiting for him to arrive home. Which, in the rare event that one of the three items was unavailable; meant I had to wait for the clips around the earhole longer.

Happy days, rough, hard work. Mater kept disappearing to avoid the police, so muggins had set the fire every morning! Do the paper rounds so kindly got for me by Dad, the cooking and cleaning too. But I did feel needed, wanted, and the odd belting!

But I was content, I knew no other life! There were plenty of lads worse off than I was… I’m waffling again, Sorry about that. It’s a bad habit of mine, wandering off, on some unrelated topic. Still, I do enjoy getting these memory-prompting meanderings.

I got the black bags gathered and onto the three-wheeler-guide trolley, and had a job to do it, but got it out of the door, along,  the lift lobby, and into the waste room, and deposited all the small bags down the chute.

It was deathly quiet, and no signs of any tellurians. Even the ‘Hum’ was quieter today.

Even Herbert has only been heard on two occasions up until now. I’m beginning to worry about this. He’s not one for persiflage, more your sort of taciturn, reserved, reticent, antisocial type.

The walk back to the flat along the newly, highly-attractive, ornamentally decorated and floored lift lobby.

It felt so. Haha! 

Getting into the three flat’s lobby was easy enough this time, and at that moment, I was feeling better than I have for a few days, getting tired, but that’s to be expected.

But, when it came to getting into the front door, that’s the maroon one, that the workers laying the floor for us all, decorated with some gunk for me, and left it there, and I have no intention of cleaning up – Swine!, I felt the weariness take a strong grip on me, and the missing so far today, Dizzy Dennis kicked into gear.

But I was not mentally tired, only bodily. Does that make sense? I went out on the balcony to take a couple of photos of the busy scene down below on Chestnut Walk.

Blimey, we had a traffic jam! Hahaha!

I spotted some crows in the distance and snapped them, but it was not a good shot. Shame. I wanted to post them to the TFZ site, Lona might have appreciated them.

Doing some updating on this blog, and I thought I heard a clunk, it may be the belated INR WArfarin results and new dosages. It was, and the dosages had changed. Meaning, because no one from the Clinic, Anticoagulation or Deep Vein Thrombosis had informed me from the Monday test, I have been taking too few Warfarins tablets since then. This Coronvirus is most likely killing a few people without the virus!

The landline chirped and flashed. It was some woman on a recorded message again, telling e they had taken £75 something from my account for ‘Prime’, if I want to cancel this press One, so I did. Waffling on a woman with either a Chinese or Indian/Pakistani accent – I couldn’t tell if it was recorded or real voice, she was going that fat, and without a cat in ells chance of understanding anything she was saying. I rang off.

Dizzy was joined by Anne Gyna, and I gave up on the computer and got the nosh prepped.

I had a good sniff at the out of date potato cakes, and luckily, they passed the sniffing nasal-assessment, so went in the oven, and were added to the tray.

The Chilli-Con-Carne, with the added tomatoes, mild chilli seasoning, Squid vinegar, garden peas and gravy, tasted jolly good!

There was so much of it though, you can see here that I couldn’t eat it all.  Titter! Seriously, it was a worthy 9.3/10 for a Flavour rating!

I was doing the washing up when Dizzy Dennis and BLB (Balance-Loss-Brian) allied to attack me. From here onwards, memory, of the night was enveloped it a vague mistiness.

When I woke up later – there was no scribbling on the notepad. I had a criminally, painful backache, and the shoulder was so painful. Signs of an Accifauxpa? But no memory. I’d not taken the evening medications, and was wearing the reading glasses?

Another mystery of life in Woodthorpe Court. Hey-Ho! 

Gawd the lower back hurts?