Inchcock Today: Friday 25th November 2022

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Best as I could recall, it would have been about five o’clock when I went to put the kettle on to make a Welsh brew of Glenghetti tea.

This Ode writ to show yer the wee-wee rate today!

While doing the brewing,
A mug of tea ensuing,
The bladder continued bubbling…
Took one photo. and off for a peeing,
Washed, back to photographing,
Tea had done brewing…
Got out the milk & off for a wee-weeing!
Out of the wet room singing…
Forgot the tea, did the binning,.
Ah, the tea, which was now freezing,
Still, it didn’t matter to me.
Weeing,
It was not free-flowing…

I could be in the shit; you see! Hehe


Ouzzat! Back-Down to High-Normal!

And, I not long since when taking the shower shaving routine, that my right hanging-sack is swollen and so tender. Humph!
I presume from the effects of the urine infection or whatever it is. As the wee-wee rate was dropping. The swelling and pain started coming and still getting worse. Typical, I get an appointment, then find that I can’t get an Easy-Link bus; the poor devils are out of volunteers.
 It’ll be dodgy on the buses, but I’ve no choice. Finding it a lot harder to see things now, like traffic, walls, kerb, and bus stops, and have to manoeuvre around the 3-wheeler walker trolley. Do you know, I’m genuinely nervous about going out, not being able to see or hear.

About 45 wee-wees later, I’d stopped drinking before going to the doctor and got things ready to go. But if the Carer is any later I may miss the bus… “I may miss the bus!”! You may not believe the farce that took place… However, by way of a cheer, the had developed what a work of an art form is. I felt like it must be a label or something that could be pulled off? Off course, in my condition, there was no way I could reach it anyway – and should I have tried, my right onion bag would have likely burst as I swashed it, getting down to it. Not to mention the agony it would have given me. Hehehe! Believe me, it gave me plenty of chance for the odd Argh! Winching & cursing throughout the day and night!
Arrived, and I asked him if he could help me with getting the does on, Or to be more precise, fasten the velcro on them. TY was happy enough to do that for me. I waffled too much, and the lad forgot to give me the second Omeprazole table, my fault. Treats selected in, on my insistence, thanks. Took the waste bag with him as he left. I wandered of again there, sorry.
Now, it was now up to me to get to the bus on time. And I did too! My left side lips gave a slight curl upwards. Initially, I did, but the Swaggering blossomed.

I caught the 40 bus to go down Winchester Street, get off on Mansfield Road, and catch another bus into Carrington, where the Sherrington Park Medical thingamabob is.
acci-whoop When a lady got on who I’d not seen for ages, I started a chinwag with her. As she got to get off, I realised that we were on top of Mapperley Plains
 Activated, and I got off with her but could not catch her up. I was in a mental flap of sorts, concerned about being late for the appointment.
This kindest lady came to me and asked me if I was alright. I explained my big , and she asked if she could call a taxi for me. Bless Her!
And she did. A taxi arrived in about three minutes and put the trolley walker in the boot and me in the back, and we were soon arriving at the surgery. Phew! There was a decent wait to be seen. Which told me I’d got the timing wrong again. I was proven right later on when the Doctor mentioned how early I had arrived. Tsk!

I told doctor Vindla of wee-wees, how painful they were and only the off sprinkle coming out. Off t the treatment room And she had a look ot the bladder and Shot up the backside to have a feel around. I felt that one! Then something long and cold. I didn’t ask.

Two Meridian gals… I think Tina and Jodie came in as I was sat sitting at the computer, trying to resettle the giant-sacked ball whatsit between my legs. The legs also grew greatly today?
I fear that the photographs I took while out, fifteen of them, many never made it to the SD Card. A message something like ‘This photo cannot be viewed’ showed on the Lumix screen. Huh!

The FARCICALISATIONAL began.
I got wrapped up well, remembered the Sample tube thingy, filled, of course. Hehe!     
I got to the public bus stop, and other tenants joined us there. And a bus arrived within minutes.
I got into the vehicle with no injuries, got sat down and off we went.
My mind was concerned at that time about what and how I was going to explain my symptoms to the Doctor. (I would have checked my notes written earlier… but they were in the living room back at the flat.
We arrived at the next stop, and a lady and gent got on. It’s been so long since I saw them since I don’t get out much, and I greeted them like family and launched into questioning them about how they were getting on. The lady said she was sorry, but they were getting off at the next bus stop. Then a sickening feeling filled my stomach, with a self-hating mode coming on when I realised where we were, going in the opposite direction. I’d got on the wrong bus!
I alighted with the pair, and not a full mode, but it soon became one when I realised the problem I was going to have to get to the surgery on time now.

I crossed the pelican lights to the other side, but none of the buses went to Carrington from there. (I wondered at that moment if this was a suitable name for EasyLink to use) But did not blame them; I more cursed my own luck and Dementia Doreen!
This very kind lady came to me (I supposed I must have looked worried?) and asked if I was alright. I briefly explained my cock-up, and asked if there was a taxi place nearby. Bless her. She got on her mobile and ordered a car from DG for me.
SherringtonThis arrived within three minutes and five more, and we were pulling up at the Sherrington Park Surgery. The sun came out as I paid my dues.

Whoever the lady was To whoever the lady was who helped dave the appointment for me. ♥
I got inside, and when I logged in, the lady in reception pointed to the chairs. (Doctoresse at this surgery for Please take a seat) Which in many ways was such a comfort; because it meant I was not late.
With how the eyes were, there was no point in taking the crossword book (although I meant to, I just forgot to, Ahem!)
I looked through every leaflet on the walls, and there was no shortage, but there were only about four with print big enough to read.
I sat for about twenty minutes: Not easy sitt
ing, you know! When one of your man bits is three times the size of the other one, without trapping or sitting on it. Well, impossible, actually!

Dr Vindla came to me, smiling… that always scares me for some reason nowadays Hehe! The first thing she sails was, “You’re good and early today, Gerry. Let’s have you in…”

I’d got the appointment timing all mixed up again! Shouldn’t really be such a shock with my record, but so many in such a short space of time were worrying me a smidgeon.

I don’t suppose for one second that they bother my uninvited interloping brain resident, Dementia Doreen, do you think?
I’m surprised I don’t have a headache; I bet she’s in there amongst the confused brain cells, throwing a party. or maybe having a revelrous-celebratory knees-up with Alto-Ego?
I wonder how long it will be until my grip weakens so much that I will not care anymore? Jus
t a thought. Well, at the moment, anyhow. Back to the surgery… I strayed well off-topic again there; sorry.
I told the Doc all about my four sleepless nights and the mushrooming, three-time it’s usual size tender right bit in my men’s department. I can’t be certain, but I thought I detected a little wry-smile creep into her expression.
It was off into the examination room for me with her. She got me positioned and ready for her to delve into certain orifices. She said; I’m going to have a feel… (By gum, that took me back in time, Hahaha!) a feel of your Prostrate, which she did. I just lay there in bliss for a minute. Then, another delve into the rear quarters, I sensed a bit of squelching, and then Dr Lona said something, but I didn’t hear what she said clearly.

Back in her room, then spoke again. She has sent an email to the chemist, which I can fetch now, for some MacroBid antibiotics. Do I did. But not until Dr Vindla gave me an appointment with the Nurse – I nearly got excited then. Haha! It’s with Nurse Lisa. For 30th December at 10:30hrs. I wish I’d asked what it was for, not hearing her tell me earlier, but by now, no-doubt Doreen was back in action, making sure that any signs of contentment, peace, or understanding had no chance in hell of maturing. She’s good at that.

For some reason unknown to me why this is the moment that what I thought was a swollen and painful right testicle started to turn into a really swollen and agonising pain-giving testicle! No idea what caused this, but as the day went on, in the morning, typing this, it got worse. I really am in the shit now, and have to walk to the chemist and then catch two buses to get home!
A daunting challenge, that daunted me! Argh!
Got to the chemist, collected the prescription, and had to decide whether to walk into Sherwood or use the bus. Not an easy decision. (Well, none are for me nowadays)
I knew that on the bus, there would be no chance of avoiding injury to Spanish Onion Henry. (I christened him that as I give names to all my ailments) Well, he feels that size, you see, to me. Hehehe!
Knowing that I had to catch the bus from Sherwood. No way would Spanish

Onion Testicle Henry have coped with walking up the steep hill; I decided it would be easier to walk into Sherwood.
There was only one really near-bothersome that happened en route.
When I was passing some of the brand-new Escotters on the kerbside. (
Putting them in that spot must tempt the scallywags to use them on the road, surely?) I had the above thought (Oh, yes, I have thought every now & then, Why I recall having one in Made 1968). I had a few seconds scary . BY Gawd, SOSTH didn’t half sting for a bit. Good job, I didn’t go over. Anyway, I made a tag for him cause I see no signs of him getting any smaller.

Caught the bus in Sherwood back up to the flats and got inside, and must say, although I thought at the time, was painful, it was going to get a lot worse.

I dare not sit down at the computer at first for fear of inflaming SOSTH. So, I got the kitchen floor mopped. A pathetic effort, but it made me feel better for trying.

Then. Tina and Sam or Jodie from Meridian called. To tell me, Richard has spoken with them, and she has worked hard to get the NCC to allow some extra care time and arrange for the laundry to be done at no extra cost. She’s also trying to arrange for Richard – or another carer to go with me on Thursday to the Coppice hospital. That is a worry less; if it’s Richard, the hospital tells me it must be someone that can accurately answer questions about how I have changed in personality. Richard is the only one who can do that. I do appreciate them trying for me. ♥

After this, I honestly don’t know what occurred until the evening Carer arrived. It was not a good visit, a tension in the air as I recall.
I was not given the new double dose of Omeprazole. The Peptac server was left on the carer’s table. And the waste bags were not taken. But I still offered him a treat in thanks. It may have been me talking too much again.

Shortly after the Carer left, my body closed down after I’d taken my third wee-wee in an hour. I . Woke at about 03:30hrs and was soon back in the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner again, after taking a wee-wee.
Great, only four awakenings all night to use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket).
A record that!

Inchcock Today: Tuesday 25th October

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ANOTHER MESSY, MISCALCULATING DAY!

I didn’t get any sleep at all. Didn’t even try to. Various reasons, Thought-Storms, Anne Gyna and frustrations niggling at me from within my own brain. I use the term brain, loosely! Mostly over my concerns over the timing of, or did I order, the EasyLink transport for the visit to the Doctors to get the results of the Severe Frailty Test. This left me confused and frustrated, and things only worsened as the day of confusion and error-making moved on.
On the computer for many hours. Not that much got done. The concentration was again lackadaisical.

I got the done around 02:00hrs.

When I put the results through the NHS calculator online, well… What the heck happened here?

The highest it has ever been since I began using the site!

I’ve never been as high as this. I was in the Hypertension 3+ zone!

All the same, I was not too worried. I put it down to worry over the weekend. As usual, no help was available. Even if any ILCs (Wardens) had been on site, there was no guarantee that I could have contacted them. Anyway, even if I could, they could not contact Easy-Link, who do not work over the weekend, to verify the arrival time of the lift. I felt the tension and an uptightness, and Anne Gyna has been at me again, although not as bad as last week before the medications had been doubled.

I made the first mug of tea I’d had for over eleven hours. Not me at all! Mind you, after this brew, the old tea addiction returned.

Took this snap of the morning view. But didn’t appreciate it at all; I was still fretting (and EQ told me things were going to go ape-shit) over the lift arrangements and appointment time. Nothing positive, you understand, just this sense that I had somehow put them down wrong in the calendar.

The computer turned off, and I went off to the wet room. Not that I can remember much about it, but I think it went well.
Made a second mug of tea, Co-op 99 this time.

Arrived.
We had a chat, some of it dedicated to ways of making things easier for me to grasp.
The usual laughs and natter were granted by Richard.  Not sure if we put the world to rights or not today. Hehe!
My memory notes a sparse for some reason… and unreadable in parts as well. Rich took the bags to the bin with him on his way out. Usual Monday thank-you treats were given. Oh, yes, I remember now; Richard helped me get the in-the-ear hearing aids going to use today; bless him.

I got myself and the things needed for the Doctor’s visit ready, and I was struggling through the door with the three-wheeled walker when I heard the phone ringing. I battled my way back inside, bruising my knee on the trolley and on the wheel. All the time, a voice (EQ), telling me not to answer it, you’re doing wrong! But I thought it might be the surgery or EasyLink phoning, so I got back and had to answer it. It was Sister Jane. Telling me about the Sun & Mon merging today. Of course, with all the concern over the bus and appointment timing, I was in a mini-panic in case I missed the bus. I forgot all about it until the morning when it was too late. I felt bad about that. After Jane had taken the bother to let me know as well. Sorry, Jane! ♥

Unfortunately, although I didn’t realise it at the time, this was just enough delay for me to miss the bus! EQ was right again. Why don’t I listen to him?
Faffed about in a hurry now, stubbing the same toe again. Down to the lift lobby.
I went through to the main lobby, and it was 5 past 10. I thought the bus was due at 10:15hrs, so had plenty of time after all. But no bus arrived.
I waited ten more minutes and then walked to the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators), Oberstgrüppenfuhrer, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana & Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie’s holding-cell office.
Through the ether, an audible, almost physical voice screamed at me, “Argh, it’s him again!”  Haha!

Julie phoned Easy-Link to see about the bus. Now I knew I’d just missed it by five minutes! Damn-it! Will I ever get to this appointment? Julie called the Doctor and got a new appointment made for me, bless her cotton socks. This one is for Tuesday, 1st November 2022, at 10:20hrs. Then she rang EasyLink again to confirm a lift to get there, but none to come back, as I just did not know how long I would be at the appointment. Thanked her. Coming out of the holding-cell office.

I bumped into Carer Richard. I was a little tense and so tired and disappointed at things going wrong yet again that I can’t recall exactly what we said during our chinwag in the Winwood lobby.

I went back to the flat along the link passage, into the flat, and got the timings clearly on the Google Calendar for the next Doctor’s meeting.

Deana had written a note for me to keep as a reminder as well. I cello-taped that to the end of the high bookcase.

At least I get some kip in now; surely, this would not be a problem after being up for 28 hours on the to now?

I’m certain, sure that I took a photograph of the Chilli-Not-Carne meal. Four Cumberland sausages I cooked, well, nigh on incinerated, by giving them a good 12-extra minutes or more in the oven. Had to chisel them out of the tray to get them on top of the dish. But the photo was not on the Lumix SD card. I can’t understand why, but in the morning, when it came to updating this blog, blow me, there the photo was? Mind you, it was one of the worst photos I’ve ever taken. Still, it shows the burned sausages and disgusting-looking chilli. Yet I enjoyed it. A taste rating of 7.2/10 was given to it. The sausages? 9.2/10 even though they’d been cauterised! Hehehe! Put the tray on the Carer’s table, and .

Woke me up an hour or so later. And I  really was deep in sleep. So much so that I think my first greetings came out as gibberish and waffle! It took me until getting the medications and seeing the Warfarins in the pot to realise it was not morning but nighttime and that I’d only been kipping for an hour. Hehe! I came around a bit and offered Carolynne a cold drink from the fridge. Had to go to the door with her as she collected the waste bags for me, said my farewells and locked the door.

I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and was back in the land of nod within a minute I reckon.
I slept for another seven hours! Yes! Mind you, my body and feeble brain needed it! Hurrah!

Inchcock: Tuesday 11th October 2022

POLITICAL CARTOON
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35:30hrs: I gave up trying to get any sleep. Disentangled my blubbery body from the c1968, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner.
Off to the wet room for a wee-wee, initially, but it turned out to be, yet again, a long, drawn-out session.
I’d got the wrong glasses on, so there was no counting the cracks in the ceiling tiles this morning.
A proper, painful one, dead on the flipping right foot’s . Argh-Ugglethump!
It’s now 6½hrs later, and it’s still tender. Humph!

Arrived, and he seemed in decent spirits, although his yawning and talking had returned. Odds are the lad will be well-knackered by tomorrow! We had a little chin-wag after he’s done the medications. He shot off smartly, bidding me farewell, taking the black bag to the chute.

Started earlier with his clumping and tapping. ON and off all say. (As of 13:30hrs)

Lap-Top Dancer Warden Deana to the rescue again!

I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator). Obergruppenfhüreress and Lap-Top Dancer/Desk-top dancer Warden Deans. I’ve been trying many times on Monday to catch her. But the gal is so hectically busy, I don’t know how she manages with all of the tenants needing help. I got through this time; her tone of voice immediately indicated she was up to the neck in it again to me. Bless her; she’s an important meeting to get through today; if she gets free in time, she’ll try to get to me. I did mention the Easy-Link booking for Friday and the new times and that I needed help with filling in a form that I just cannot read; the print is that small. Still, there are a few things of the miniature size I’ve had to live with. Hahaha! Hard to believe, but I forgot to ask her to ring the Doctor’s for me. To book an appointment or talk to the Doctor on the phone (which is most likely nowadays). Of course, they often cancel or move the day and timing,

I took this snap from the kitchen window.

And the Asda order arrived…
Grated Leicester cheese, potato Rosti, fresh leeks and spuds, and another bag of just leeks. Then:

I ordered some more of the take-your-breath-away and burn-your-tonsils Salt & Pepper chips – my mistake! The sliced spuds looked okay. A can of chilli con carnie for Josie’s on Sunday, and a Mexican bean chilli for me, which I may regret when I have it. Hehehe!
Naughty mini-packets of Jacobs Leicester Cheese and BBQ flavour.

.Minutes afterwards, the Amazon man cometh.
Bearing two boxes of goodies.
The bacon-flavoured bits. To go in the rice of chilis.
And the Duracell hearing-aid batteries. The sticky tabs on these made it a breeze to fit them into the aids. They cost a lot more but are worth it.

Then as I was getting the hearing aids in, along came ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She looked a little stressed. But I soon had leer smiling and laughing. She filled in the questionnaire for me and said she’d post it as well, bless her cotton socks. Then she called the Doctor for me to make a telephone appointment. I got one for Tuesday the 18th of October: in a week’s time. So, another week of agony with Anne Gyna to put up with. If it starts getting any worse, I may phone 111 and ask for advice.
Deana told me she had arranged for the lift to the Diabetes meeting for Friday at 10:30hrs, returning at 13:30hrs. She is good to me! ♥ I gave her the spice potatoes and the bag of prepared leeks. And a jar of the Dolmio 7-Vegetable sauce to have with the vegetables. Tickled-pink with them, she was.

Off she trotted, and within minutes, I was tackled pink – I’d got into the WordPress Reader at last! So I dived in for a good read of the other folks’ blogs I’d missed so much. Dozens of them to get through, but I like it!

A mug of tea, and I got something to eat. Just as started to kick off again… Grrr!

For the Asda (Walmart) Parmentier potatoes, I had to cut some of the larger pieces so that they all cooked at the same time. The veggie-burger I could fo in the microwave while I got the potatoes out and 7-roasted-veg sauce added; the mini-burger takes just a minute.+
I got the spuds in the oven. I had 25-minutes while they cooked. Do put the TV on and got sat down: This could have proved fatal meal-wise!

Waking up with a jerk and jumped 40 minutes later, and could smell the aroma of the sauce in this room! I suppose there was a mini adopted. The brain was talking to me, anticipating a burnt offering in the oven, and a slight annoyance at myself…

But things turned out great. I must remember this next time I get some of these spuds from Asda. Give them 40-minutes to cook, not the recommended 35-minutes on the label.
They were delicious! Taste-Rating: 9/10!

Arrived, the poor gal was in pain in both of her thighs. Sam’s Doctor told her to take Paracetamols. We had a natter about the shop prices etc., telling her of my idiocy in ordering the Salt & Pepper chips from Asda. Sam selected a thank you drinkie, and she took the waste bag out when she left. ♥

22:00hrs: The unloquacious, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, snobby, toploftical, smug, stuck-up, bloody-noisy neighbour in the flat above started banging about again! After four of his bangs were replied with Wooden Wally Walking-Stick on the top of the high bookcase, he stopped. Hurrah!

But of course, I was expecting him to start again, so getting to sleep was out of the question, yet again. And the management of Nottingham City Homes will not hear a word against him!

“He is a wonderful man, makes steam models for charity! “The fact that he stops me from getting to sleep didn’t come into the equation!”

Huh!

Inchcock: Tuesday 4th October 2022

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03:40hrs: I bestirred, somewhat reluctantly, even though I had had a long but often interrupted total of six hours minimum asleep. The jerking awakes were frequent last night, although getting back to sleep was no bother.
I made the balance moves and went up to the kitchen. Where I put on the kettle, took this photo of the morning view, which came out a little better for me this morning. 
Then made a Glengettie brew.

Sphygmomanometerisationing revealed that the Blood Pressure came out in the Hypertension Red-High One, again. So at least it’s gone down from yesterday.
I don’t know why, but I sense that it will tumble again soon. My IQ told me so as I was taking a drink of Glengettie.

The body temperature had gone down a smidgeon as well.

The Heartbeat/pulse was still high, mind you. At 94 bpm.

Burst forth, I assumed it was Carer Richard arriving to sort out the medications. But No!

It was the though. But not Richard. I thought the lad looked a little rough yesterday. I asked the young carer who arrived, is Richard poorly? He said Yes, I’m afraid so. Not good news. I said how sorry I was and what a decent chap Richard was but kept the spirits up for the new, although experienced Carer, with the name of Shekiel. He seemed a sociable type of lad, and we had a chinwag as he did the medications. Bade him farewell.

I decided to get the ablutions done rather late on today, mind you. I’ll have to rush in case the Phlebotomy Nurse Christina arrives early.
Took the clothes I was going to wear in the wet room with me and set to the job in hand. Nasal clearing, teeth-cleaning, and then shaving. Only one cut again today.
I’d forgotten to get the hook on the curtain back on. As I got my flobby-bellied lump in the shower, I pulled the curtains around to stop the water spraying all over, and another hook shot off! Tsk!

I must get them both back on today; it’s just that getting up on the stepladders to rebook them is a bit risky when I can’t see the holes or the steps on the ladder. It’ll be worse today, of the   in the right eye. That also has playing up today, and the left eye is definitely getting more attention from its own cataract. If I don’t get it done soon, I’ll be so handicapped.

However, the showering went very well after that. No head-butting the power box, no dizzies… Dried off and then got the sorted out without any ado, just in case Hristina arrived early. I don’t want any more embarrassment. Hehe!
Apart from the regulation agony of creaming , things went even smoother with the toes (Using the picker-upper) Germoloiding. Got the olive oil in the ears. I did spot a new bruise on the tummy bulge, but there was no hurt attached to it; no idea how I got it. Phorpained gelled the knees.

It’s still the ones that are the most bothersome at this moment…  soon changed that later.
I pressed on, got dressed, and took the clothes take off to the laundry bag.
Perfect Timing, the intercom flashed, and it was Hristina arriving at the flats. A bit of luck there, avoiding any of my bare flabby flesh being imposed on anyone. sounded, and in came the gorgeous nurse Hristina, with perfect timing.
As Hristina was taking the blood, she trod on the left foot’s ingrowing toenail. Apologising, she caught free-standing Metal Micky, knocking him over, and the handle landed straight on top of my right foot’s ingrowing toenail! The poor gal felt so guilty, but we still managed a laugh about it. She can do no wrong as far as I’m concerned!
I walked to the door, slipping her a small bottle of Rose, “Oh, I love Rosso”, she said. Which so cheered me up to please her.

Then back on the computer again. I’d noticed a lack of noise coming from this morning? I do hope he’s alright, fit and well, and not laying injured in a crumpled heap, bleeding to death up there in his flat.

Look at the time. (Oh, you can’t see it can you?) It’s Gone 14:009hrs already! What happened? Did I have a mind blank?

I’ll get some updating done on the words file, ah! No, I’ll order a belt from Amazon first. All done. Back to the word list and Word Hippo.

Is kicking off again. Concentration shattered! At least she started much later in the day this time.

Shannon arrived. Got the medications sorted. She checked the food dates in the fridge; not much in there at the moment, but Shannon found three out of dates that had to be ditched. Chose a thank you treat, and off she went taking the black bag with her to the chute. ♥

Sleep was resistant again. No idea what time I nodded off, but was in the morning. I was so fatigued as well, but Sweet Morpheus wasn’t having it. Humph and !

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Tuesday 13th September 2022: Inchcock Today

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The normal nodding off and waking up in a semi-panic, what felt like every few minutes, went on for hours. Eventually, I woke up in a rather desperate and sudden need of a wee-wee!
I fumbled about to get to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) in time... Embarrassment and self-hatred all at the same time… I failed to make it! The main reason was the discomfiting . Which came on before I’d got the PPs down… so that was a good thing. Even better was the way with which the Comfort pants contained the leaking liquid. Had I got the PP’s down before it came, I would have been in an even bigger mess! I clasped the lower regions and somehow got to the wet room with the wooden walking stick, and I used the WC. Despite the bladder letting me down again, I found some appreciation in how the PPs coped with it. I was pleased that I changed to these Depend pants now, more than ever. While cleaning things after taking the tinkle and refreshing my body, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. As I sat, alternating between trying to do the crossword puzzle and counting the cracks on the ceiling, as I awaited the cement inside to move, I realised how late it was! 06:45hrs!
Bit of panic then. I’d got s Sainsbury order coming this morning, twixt 06:00 > 10:00hrs, so I may miss it if I’m stuck sat on the Throne when it comes!
I foolishly, mayhaps, tried to force things along with all my might. Once it did start to move, it was swiftly over but so painful. And poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding badly, externally and internally. However, now having some Germoloid to hand, I could clean things up again and ease the stinging. Which I hastily did.
I tried the water taps again on the sink to see if the promised repair would provide me with hot water. Nope, just the tepidness once again.

By the time I’d sorted, washed and got dressed, leaving the door open in case the intercom rang, Richard, came in. He was in a rush again, but that did not stop the lad when he heard my tale of the hot water from calling the maintenance to get someone out yet again to look at it. Bless him.
Just before he left, the intercom rang, and I asked him if he wanted to wait to get the treats that were on the order. No, he had to go, up to the neck in it. Fair enough. Tanked him as the delivery was arriving.
I got the goods checked and returned some podded peas that had a sell by today tag on them. The brown sourdough loaf looked tasty – not to make sure there are no sliced fingers. Hehe!

The flowers for the wardens were what I’d call rustic yellow and red. Got some strawberries for them and chocolates, only need to add some cans of plonk. I rang Deana, but no answer; it might be a little early yet? Burgers for Richard.

Which I did.
Glad they had the Germoloids in stock. They didn’t have any of the Parmentier potatoes, Huh! I got stuff stored away, and I intended to get the Health Checks sorted out. Tried calling Deana again to tell her the nibbles had arrived, no reply.
Made my first brew of the day, a mug of Thompson’s Punjana. I forgot about doing the blood pressure and called Warden Julie, and I told her of the goodies ready to collect. Then, I got on the computer to update and post the Monday blog. The tea had gone cold. So I went to the kitchen to make another mashing.
In came Julie, quickly followed by Deana. I missed out on a natter cause they were talking between themselves, and I could not hear what about. Spit! I think I told them about the hot water.

Was busy making something mechanical, noisily.

It seems the hot water problem the Nottingham City Homes Maintenance could not solve has been passed on to a company called T&S.
Not that this chap could solve it for sure.
When I asked him what the problem was, he was honest enough to tell me he had no idea. all the tests he carried out showed it should be working properly. The only thing he’d changed was the thermostat, and he turned it up a smidgeon.
Well, three hours later, the water was indeed hotter. Nothing like as hot as it used to be, though, but I should be able to have a shave and shower in the morning.

What happened to the day? Nowt was done much, evening carer due shortly. Meal To get done. I’m going to make a chilli stew for myself. And will do my best not to cut any parts of my anatomy, slicing the sourdough bread to dip into the food. Hehe! I’ll it the meal prepared then… Oh, I’ve not done the Blood Pressure yet. I imagine it will be the opposite of yesterday’s panicking high? It does that a lot, up and downing.

Ah, much betterer indeed.
In fact, overall, one of the best for ages, methinks? ‘
I bet when I do the BP Graph site, it will be down low in the amber zone.

There, what did I tell yer? Two extremes in two days.
Ah, well, food preparation time for me.
I can’t help but think I’ve missed or forgotten something? Mmm!


ANOTHER INCHCOCK GASTRONOMIC DISASTER! What was I thinking about? How can even I; make so many cock-ups making just one meal?
Easily seems to be the answer! The good bit first, I didn’t cut any fingers slicing the sourdough bread… fair enough, I did drop the loaf, and did Back-Pain-Brenda no good at all, bending down to clear up the crumbs; then knocked the knife off of the counter. But it missed me. just blunted the tip of the knife.
It took me that long to clear up the crumbs; I lost more time trying to straighten the tip of the knife than I had to reheat the stew in the microwave.

The first spoonful indicated one of the reasons for the almost uneatable flavour I’d conjured up. (I looked in the waste bin later and realised this was true). I’d added a can of baked beans to the chilli stew, but think I put curry-flavoured beans in the pot, not plain ones!
I ate some of it, all the sourdough brown bread that was nice. I was soon back in the kitchen, putting the ¾s of the meal I’d not eaten into food bags to go to the chute in the black bags.
Where more causes of the calamity were discovered. The pot of BBQ seasoning I added was actually basil: the pot was still out on the top. Alongside it should have been a bottle of BBQ sauce from which I added a sludge or two to the meal… no, but there was a bottle of balsamic vinegar?
I shudder to give the taste rating any score at all it would have had to be a minus score. However, the sourdough bread was delightfully tasty. 1.2/10.

I washed the pots in the nearly hot water from the tap, and I got a packet of seaweed crisps to nibble and settled into the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and went into a gloriously dream-filled sleep.

Jodie came in, not ringing the doorbell again. She hovered over my prostrate but crumpled adipocerous bellied body, giving out a loud but cheerful “How are you, okay?” I’m not sure if I answered or not! The visit was a blur, really.

I had planned to get up later and make a start on updating this blog… I meant later in the night. But I drifted off again, and I got another five hours of sleep in!
Waking at 03:35hrs, in need of a wee-wee.

Inchcock Today Wednesday 24th August 2022

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I STIRRED IN THE DARKNESS,,, Hahaha!. No idea what time it was, but there was a determination on my part – not to get up. A ‘Sod-It’ approach was adapted; I’ve never had this before,,, well, for years anyway. Why this lack of interest in waking, indeed, a loathing at I had had to wake up? I’d no idea.

I readjusted my wobbly mammoth-stomached body in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and tried to force myself back to sleep again. But it was not working, putting me down a peg or two in the contentment stakes. Then the bowl rumbled the need for the early morning trip to the wet room and arose. so I’d no choice then. Grudgingly but hurriedly, I made my way to the porcelain.

Where I was glad that I didn’t wait any longer, for Trotsky Terence was fighting back against Constipation Konrad’s last few days in control of the movements. Phew! I’d not hit the bum on the plastic seat, and the flow started! A close call that. While in the wet room, I decided to stay up and get the done.
The hair on the neck was again not letting me cut it. It let me cut the neck a few times and the left ear, too.
Then, the mop bucket, of all things, gave me a toe-stubbing of high quality and in the 3-4/10 pain range. That surprised me, considering the cheap weak plastic it’s made from.
Dried off and into the kitchen… I’d done it again! Wot a Plonka! I’d left the hot water tap running from when I put the plate and cutlery in to soak last night! So, no hot water for a while, On the bright side, if there is one… I’d not left the plug in the sink, so no floods this time. And the plate and cutlery were very clean. Hehehe!

Now my emotions were in turmoil, but oddly, I soon got stuck in updating the Tuesday blog, and I was almost at the end of the creating process as ♫ Oh Susan ♫ chimed from the doorbell. came in, and he was in a slightly better state of health this morning. We had a good nattering session with a few laughs and Governmental cussing. During which he only yawned twice… honestly! Lovely to see him perkier.

I had a wee-wee, made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana, and set to finishing the Tuesday blog… Then realised I’d not made the Ode to Doreen Rhymes! I’d done the graphics but no odeing, Gragknangles! It took me another three hours to get them all done and eventually got them posted off, well into the afternoon, I think. Ups and downs today?

I made a start on this blog, graphics first, then onto WordPress to start editing. Went to put the kettle on again…
DOUBLE Cor blimey! One heck of a toe stubbing on the trolley wheel, and I knocked off two bottles of spring water… which landed on the other foot! One bouncing back up and hit Little Inchie! Still, it doesn’t bother me. Ahem!

I’ll find another funny cartoon to put on to cheer us up a bit… hang on. Yes, let’s have another political one. Hehehe!

I’ll get summat to eat, then, And I did! A Morrison’s brand roast vegetable bolognese, with the last (Sob!) of the podded garden peas and a baked bean pastie. Bootiful! I think Sister Jane would have liked this. Not the bean pastie, of course, but the veg bolognese.

I took the tray with the dish and cutlery into the kitchen, telling myself not to leave the tap (faucet) running this time. This took away my concentration for a second or so, and I walked into the doorframe with my shoulder. Dropped the tray; naturally, the knife cut into the middle digit, and the tray hit the big toe!
It’s truly dumbfounding; to think all the jobs I’ve done that needed multitasking, and I did them without thinking. Now two things on my mind are enough to cause all sorts of problems and injuries! Humph!
Of course, it was the fault of Dementia Doreen, again! Then after clearing up the mess and a little cursing; kicked-off. Gave me a good rattling of the shoulder joint and kept on for an hour or more. She’s never lasted that long.

Never mind. I got back in the recliner, and I was determined to stay awake to watch the Heartbeat episode. It’s amazing how one can drop off ten or twelve times in an hour. Humph! Then not be able to get to sleep at all again!

Samantha came in without ringing the buzzer, or at least it didn’t work if she did. Good job that I wasn’t taking a wee-wee or medicating Little Inchies Fungal Lesion! Even more embarrassing, I could have been doing the Diabetic exercises. Haha! Samantha sorted the medications, and she picked out her thank-you treats. Taking the waste bag with her as she departed.

I got back down in the recliner but was not interested in playing anymore whatsoever.
I decided to get up and stay up. And went to take a snap from the kitchenette window of the beautiful night sky. Which I did. Absolutely bootiful!
As I turned from the window, I saw that I had left the hot water tap (faucet) running after all! So frustrating, annoying, and ignominious, I felt!

I got on the computer to update this blog. It was soon gone midnight; What happened to the day? Did I have another memory-Blank period? Ah well, I’ll press on with the blogging and get it finished and posted soon as I can,
TTFN each!

Inchcock Today: Thursday 11th August 2022. Diary & Odes

I can’t understand why my Odes have not yet made me famous in the rhyme and poet-master circles. All that effort, too!

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0605hrs: I rose with thanks for being allowed to get in five hours of undisturbed time with Sweet Morpheus. Passing wind belched and detached my weight-ladened stomached body from the c198 recliner, and off to the wet room, and the . Where I passed the first half-hour of waking. Trotsky Terence had been beaten into submission by Constipation Konrad.
Oh, the agony! I couldn’t even try to do the crossword this morning. (It can take one’s mind off of the suffering sometimes, but not today). Things eventually started moving… a little, then stopped! I counted the crack in the ceiling plaster… same as last time, 36. Now there’s a thought; How can not remember so many things but am almost certain I could remember a silly, pointless detail like that? Back to the pain coping… I had visions of the bloody mess I was going to find when… or if the evacuation is ever completed.
I started talking to the evacuation product (I know, daft as a brush!). My faith was failing. Then I started wot think of the most ridiculous things, like, why have I never been interested in lepidoptery? Who’d have believed I’d end up with Doreen Dementia? Me! The calm one, the organizer, the carer…
The torpedo started coming out, and it was beyond my powers to slow or stop[ it. The pain grew worse and fortuitously. so did the escapage rate, and the last three-quarters of the turd almost flew out with a sickening thud as it landed, blocking the porcelain! 
Ah, blessed relief! I thought it would never free itself. Now to check on any damage done in the procedure!
. After all, that grinding pain and the gigantic, gargantuan torpedo having been slowly, oh so slowly, forced through and out, Harold’s Haemorrhoids had barely been bleeding! A few thin streaks of the old haemoglobin on the toilet paper, that was all. There was even little stinging pain, either! How come? All a part of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare, worry and confuse me! I suppose!

I got the take, with confidence from somewhere, that the results would not be anywhere as near as scary as yesterday mornings. I just knew not to worry. My EQ, telling me?)
Fair enough, it was still high, but if I remember rightly, it was 36 points less than Tuesdays was.
The body temperature once again was as near to spot on that you wouldn’t notice the difference!

I lost a couple of hours of the morning altogether. I had been doing something as I found later I’d written things on the remember-pad, but it’s in double-Dutch! And the kettle was hot when I went in the kitchen, but I’d not made any tea? Thankfully, these Mind-Blanks don’t happen very often. But they do concern me and are on the list to ask the Doctor about. But can I get someone to call the surgery for me? No! The trouble is, I forget all about it minutes later, until the next instance.

Arrived in a bit of a rush, but he never rushes me, bless him. But it meant quick talking and my missing some comments. But the lad had had a word with Deana about the paperwork he took with him to study and left it with Deana. No point in me keeping it; I can’t read it. He said that Deana will try to call on me later. This is out of sequence, as many other comments will be, no doubt/ I got very Confusion Konrad this afternoon and evening. Deana called later to confirm the booking for the lift with Easy Link. 10:30hr pick-up, to be outside to be collected. Later on, a nice-sounding lady land-lined me to confirm as well. That was nice! ♥

The steam-train building Herbert from the flat above was in fine form all day. No long periods of disruption, I must say. Just the regular clumps and banging, metallic sounds intermingled with some mini-concertos of a tap-tapping nature. Oh, and a cappella: Without orchestral accompaniment.

I just came across this writing on the notepad from hours ago. Any help would be appreciated as to what the heck it was I was recording; thank you. The dashes are undecipherable words: “Delug— 90% temp —– — —- — hoen –stly, —- forced sa–ey. Temp—— 94!” I may find time to have another go at making something out of it. Tsk!

  Now, for the cock-up of the day! If they gave out medals for Mind-Blanks, Forgetting and Insanity, I’d be in line for a gold medal after this incident.
The intercom rang forth: Someone telling me that they had a delivery for me.
❶ But the release button, yet again, did not work to admit the chap. I tried a few times, then said I’ll come down to you.
I had to get some trousers and shoes on, checked the intercom and could see the man still there, and rushed a little too much, and clouted Shuddering-Should-Shirley on the door frame! Agony again!
❸ Got down to the foyer, but no signs of anyone there.
❹ I assumed he had gotten on while I was faffing about to get down to him… Rushing again, I got the walking stick entangled in the lift elevator door. I now have a split-handled wooden walking stick.
❺ Got up to find the man looking around and bags near the flat door.
The man departed, and I started to get the bags into the kitchen. Then it dawned on me when I saw the Co-op label on some foods – I don’t recall making a Co-op order at all. I’ve just had a Morrison one yesterday. And, a few days before that, an Iceland one? Mayhap I did this during my Mind Blank hours?
Well, it had all the things that I might have ordered on the order. I must have made it, stupidly, cause there was not a thing I didn’t already have in stock on this delivery!
I’d even bought some bonkers-costly Mushroom Risotto.
More flipping chips and potatoes, too! I’d even got some more bottles of spring and tonic water!

Just as I was calming down after giving myself a verbal blasting for being so stupid… the intercom burst into like again.
It was another delivery, Amazon. And the Doctor thinks I do not have Dementia ‘properly’? I hope she gets it right when I snuff it, and she has to decide if I’m properly dead or not! Hehehe!
Depression came over me.
The chap had delivered the Lemon Sherbets disinfectants.
No problem with this one. I remember ordering these. I think! No, I did, definitely. Positively. Oh, dearie me!.

The temperature outside reached 92°f.
I gathered together all of the paperwork and reminder notes and what leaflets and letters had come in over the last few days, with the intention of perusing them to see which needed any assistance to read and understand.
.Which didn’t take me long to work out. Cause Cataract Cathy and Dementia Doreen made sure all of them needed some help. Some needed telephone calls; well, Deafness Duncan takes care of that.

Kicked off again. Tap-tapping, morse-code like this time. The stuck-up, toffee-nosed, self-important gentleman varied it for a minute or two; he decorated the tune with some clung-thuds. Kind of him. Ah, tap-tapping is back now.

Getting late now. Aha, ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ just sounded. It was evening who’d arrived. He seemed a smidgeon low to me. I might be wrong. I tried the jokes, my world-famous and light-hearted approach, but I couldn’t get a smile. So I offered the lad a bottle of shandy from the fridge. I had to make do with a half-hearted imitation smile. But that’ll do for me, I thang-you!

I’d like to know what’s making those noises above. They almost sound like he’s sat up there with a stick to keep tapping on the floor? I hope he’s not poorly.

Better get the ablutions done. I’ve already missed the first Diabetes lesson. I’ve already missed the first Diabetes lesson. I fear leaving it until morning again, with the transport also coming as mercifully, the top man, Nathanial, has told me he will stay behind to talk me through what I missed on the first course. Jolly decent of him, too!
State of the feet before getting the ablutions done here on the left. Off belatedly, to the wet room.
Three days of growth of the beard took some shifting. Only a few nicks. The teeth were painful to clean. Showering went okay, no knocks, falls, or Dizzy Dennis visits. Many many dropsies, mind you. Turned off the shower and dried off.
Yes, well… all were hurtful, to say the least. Germolene, Germoloid, and the worst of the lot… Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating! Arthur Itis and Cartilage Kathy were treated to some Phorpain rub.

I took an after-shower shot (Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hehehe!) of the pins and plates.
Looking like they had been polished with Brasso or something of that ilk. Haha!

I settled in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously, grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable of, not working, recliner. Put on a Dr Who DVD and was soon sleeping away like a baby – I wee’d myself overnight!

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Inchcock Today: Sunday 7th August 2022 – Diary

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I woke in need of a wee-wee. Assessed the time I’d had sleeping; 3-hours… better than two!
While waiting for the after-leaking to stop, it took a while; I remembered the food delivery coming twixt 07:00>08:00hrs.
The feet and legs were looking just fine this morning. So good, I may advertise them as a pair of 1947 legs and feet for sale. Hehe!

So, I got the sphygmomanometerisationing tended to. Then, speedily got the body temperature taken before the sphygmomanometer turned itself off to catch both sets.
When I entered the results into the NHS DVT site, it would not let me put in 39 for the DIA, just told me that DIA has to be a minimum of 40. Please check your figures! So, I put 40 in to get a graph up. How frustrating to know that I must be dead with a 39 Reading. Of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
At least I know that’s two of us old uns that is still alive. The arrogant, noisy snotty Herbert from above started a tap-tapping, clunk concerto. So he’s not snuffed it yet, either.
The view from the kitchenette window was so like an oil or water painting this morning. A Constable, mayhaps? Which reminds me, I’ve not seen a policeman on foot in Sherwood since January. No wonder crime has risen!
The intercom flashed, and it was the William Morrison order arriving. One of the most disappointing deliveries, other than Iceland’s, of course, that I’ve ever had. Here’s the sad, hardly believable story.
The men, through the goods into the two delivery boxes, naturally with cakes going in first, to be squashed by blah and water bottlers.
Got the things sorted and put away, but t’was not easy.

They had some of the Jacob’s Leicester Cheese cheddar biscuits. I bought four packets, as they are my favourites. Taking them out of the box. Do you notice only three on the counter?
Glad to report they have not substituted the Roast Vegetable Risotto, another of my personal favourites. That’s because one packet was torn open, and broken biscuits were all over the other food. I got them in a lidded tub and threw the other emancipated bits of bikkies into the waste bag.
Then, disappointed, they had swapped the vegan mushroom pate with a caramelised pork & onion version. Huh!. Still, Richard can have that in the morning.
The fridge looked mighty low in stocks, even after I’d got the fresh foods packed away!

The three packets of mini rolls were reduced to two; they were crushed but not as bad as the third packet, which had burst open, and I ended up washing off the sticky goo from other items delivered. By the time I’d sorted things out, I’d eaten a load of broken cheddar biscuits, a whole six mini rolls from the burst open and pre-mashed cakes. It all came back to why I stopped using Morrison direct and went to Amazon. But Morrison does not offer all their range when using Amazon, and when I read they had some Leicester flavoured cheddars, I just had to have some! Cragknangles! Sorry I bothered now!

MEAL-PREPPING: I spent the next few hours preparing Josie’s Chilli dinner. A bit of a mind-testing job… Why? I’ll tell yer!
①: The Iceland mushrooms that still had two days in-date showing; had shrivelled and gone grey. Comically, they had a Guarantee of Freshness sticker on the pack! So I had to use canned ones, whic