Inchcock Saturday 6th Aug 2020: Diary

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05:00hrs: I woke, feeling drained before I’d even moved. Checked the time and went through a Thought-Storming session for ages. Jumping from one subject to another, fretting, fearing, blaming and self-condemning. There were decisions, plans, and ideas; the thoughts cleared, amazingly, and I dropped off back into sleep…
This was the same as yesterday! Each and every one of the following wee-wees had after-leakage that, at times, was more than the original wee was! 06:05hrs: I stirred again, in need of a wee-wee.
I hope I will not need to see Dr Nallamothu, Urinary Tract Infections, again. I recall how unlistening and snotty she was with me on my last visit. This is why I’m hanging on, hoping this infection will clear on its own. The NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) was filled within four trips, well, not filled, but it had too much in it to use it safely. I’m getting experienced in emptying and sanitising things nowadays. I wonder if the NHS just might have a job for a qualified Guzunder emptier at the hospital? Hehe!

This Canon photograph is of the morning’s great sky.
They used to stay, ‘Red Sky in the morning, Shepherd’s Warning’. Of rain… but there is nothing on the weather forecast about rain. According to the local news, the reservoirs have been at the lowest since records began. This is not good! Which we could do well with having.

Time to let the sphygmomanometerisationing flow. So I did. The body temperature at 34.1°f was pleasing again. Much better than last month.
The Blood Pressure readings, I thought, were excellent. But not the NHS recording site?
The attachment today was as written beneath the picture on the left here.
Which surprised me. The ‘it should be below 120/80 was a bit hopeful. I’ve never had a reading as low as SYS 120 in donkey’s years. This one was in the amber, as well?

Off to the Throne room, taking the crossword book with me, as I anticipated another session like yesterday morning, of solid resistance. But Constipation Konrad had lost control of the innards to Trotsky Terence now? How can things change in such a short time?

I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana and raided the packet of pod peas for a nibble.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed loudly from the doorbell. It was Samantha. Got the medications sorted, listened to my waffling, picked her thank-you treats and was off like a shot. Taking the waste bag with her to the rubbish chute on her way for me.

At long last, I made a start on updating the Friday blog. Not a lot to do on it, but finding so many mistakes and correcting them, took me at least two hours. Humph!

Both kicked off together as I moved on to get this template started. This put a temporary end to the keyboard activity.

I decided to get the ablutions done while incapacitated from typing. Miss was a mistake! Of course, I know this now! As I approached the door, just for devilment, I’m sure, but an involuntary kicked off, and I felt myself going backwards… But I knew the door behind me was pulled to; I always close it behind me, you see, then in the event of a fall or tumble, I can slide down the softer than the floor door! Clever stuff, eh?

But, unbeknownst to me, the door was wide open, and I ended up flat on my back, clouting the back of my head a decent wallop on the way down! So much for making plans!
I got back into the main room on my hands and knees; that wasn’t easy with SSS shaking me about. I used the c1968 recliner to get myself back up on my feet. I was a little shook up but by no means incapacitated or proper poorly.
Found a couple of minor scratches on my arm, the back and head aching, but not severely. SSS gave me rest; at last, Anne Gyna was still stabbing across my chest, which was the worst of the ailments and injuries. Hehehe! I think my feeling a fool was embarrassing too.

I sat for a while to recover, a bit of shock, knowing you would hit the door and don’t, but instead, the floor! Thinking it through, I reckon Esther had left the door open when showing the lady who’s covering for her holiday where things were. No blame whatsoever; it’s my fault for not noticing the door was open… Ah, I’ll settle for blaming Cataract Cathy, then! Hehe! Oh, Back-Pain-Brenda has started now! It could have been a lot worse; I think they would call this ‘Good-Luck?’

Sister Jane rang, and we had a good long natter and gossip.

She’s struggling with her Doctor as well, and her eyes have not been looked at again yet.

Gave me a concert of clattering, but it was a small one. It could have been the 1812 overture! Hahaha!

I will get my feet up to eat the meal and hopefully fall asleep. Well, I hope so, at least. Got the potatoes in the oven and chilli in the pan.

Not very good; I got the subjects cut off. Still shaking a bit from the tumble.
I may take an extra Codeine to help counter Back-Pain-Brenda. Even so, I’ve got away lightly in that Accifauxpa!.
I got an email from Sainsbury’s. So it looks like the code through the post was genuine… at least I hope it was.

Took the Codeine, so I take it while eating, which might be more effective.
Sliced p[otatoes and veg-chilli out of a can this time. But still tasty; in fact, the chilli was a little hot for my tastes, but the more I ate of it, the less hot it seemed to get? Flavour rating: 6.5/10.
Arrived, she was chirpier this evening. Hard to fear what she was saying cause she has a habit, like Esther, of talking to me and facing in the opposite direction. But Val does not do it from another room. Hehe!
I got on the computer, and although hard work, mistakes, and correcting-ridden, I pressed on with this blog.

I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the sunset was worth photographing.
I got the meal on my knee on the tray, then put the TV on, not that there was anything worth watching. I’ve got about 150 channels on complimentary view and not a sausage worth viewing that I could find. Noticed the lighting had changed as it came through the thin moth-eaten curtains! And went back to the kitchen window to take another shot, the bottom one of the two. Bootiful!. I think there were only ten minutes between the snaps being taken.
Then I got the blog finished and posted it to WordPress. Gone midnight now! No rest for the wicked! But I want to make a start on the following Snippets blog…

Inchcock: Friday 5th Aug 22 – Diary & Odes

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Inchcock’s Waffling No: 23⅒th
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06:50hrs. What a sleep that was at last. Ready for this… Six-Hours! Grrreat! The ankle ulcer had come up overnight and was tingling & stinging a bit. The right foot and leg were more swollen and colourful as well. So, I took this snapshot. I just can’t understand why the Tate Gallery has not noticed the state of my legs and bought my photos.
After six uninterrupted hours of gorgeous sleep, I was not surprised that the wee-wees started flowing and regularly. Each session was followed by after-micturitional leaking. Bit of a nuisance having to wait so long and make sure any extra squirts or leaks had all finished. Still, that’s a fact of life nowadays.

I went into sphygmomanometerisationing mode and got the Health Checks done.

The BP had gone up a smidgeon, but nothing too risky. God results still.
Barely into the red zone, yet again. I don’t know why it has been so good this past month, but I adopted a well-deserved one. How long can this go on? It seems to have settled so well. Fingers crossed that it continues.
I started to do the layout for this template and got a whiff of my B,O., so I decided that as soon the morning Carer has been, I’ll get the ablutioning done. Seconds later, ♫ Oh. Susana ♫ sounded from the door chime.

Came in and got my medications sorted out. Val’s weekly treat of Strawberries had arrived, and I issued them in thanks to Valerie, and off she went – forgetting for the first time ever to take the waste bags with her. I was rushing her a bit so I could get the ablutioning done, though, so, not her fault.

I went into the wet room to clean up my massively overweight bobby body and assorted knick-knacks. But found that the job of cleaning up the wet room floor I did yesterday, I think it was, was of inferior quality. The floor had bits on it, black, that stuck like glue to the surface. Where they came from puzzled me. (As a lot of things tend to do nowadays, Hehe!)  I just about crippled myself getting down and up again so often, after each time, and found I’d missed some. to blame, mayhaps?
By the time I got around to doing any ablutioning, I was well worn out and had some new aches. Hehe! As I started with the teeth cleaning, I had to double check that the scrubbing brush, bleach, mop, and bucket had not been left in my own way in the shower area. So glad I checked, for the bleach was under the shower, and going in there without any glasses on, I might have avoided an !
At long last, a weary and battered Inchy got on with the job in hand. Teggies have already been done, and I got on with the shaving. And only had two tiny nicks in the process. However, I did manage to break one of the new razors, and not a cheap Bic; Oh no! One of the four-bladed ones! How is it a mystery? I don’t think I could break one if I tried to.
The showering went well, apart from clouting my shoulder against the towel rail and starting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off. The lower regions, front and rear, were then medicated. The ear holes were olive-oiled. The eye drops were dropped in; well, most of them ended up on the cheek and then ran down into the moustache, turning it into a temporary brown from grey. Little Inchies fungal lesion is the most painful ailment to treat (As usual). Deodorised, dressed, and off to make a brew of Glengettie tea. Noticed the beautiful puffer clouds in view in the sky again. I do love so to see these up there. I tried a bit of pareidoliaing and found two figures in this photograph on the left.

I got some potatoes out, sorted them and got the good ones in the saucepan on a low heat setting. Then realised I had the fresh chips in the fridge with a short use-by-date that needed consuming. Then the dithering started. Shall I have the potatoes and end up wasting the ready-made chips?
I sort of left any decision in the air. I’m good at that, being indecisive, you know? I went to check on the other dates in the fridge but could only manage to decipher a couple of them. Carer Richard was in such a rush yesterday that he forgot to investigate for me. And of course, I forgot to ask him to. Hey-Ho! The lad was worn-out and tired, bless him. I hope he can get a good rest during his break. and does not get called in. He’s due a bit of good luck, and I hope Sweet Morpheus can supply it for the lad.

Later, I felt the stinging from the ankle ulcer and looked at the ankle and legs again. See what’s what with it. It (the ankle ulcer) now looked so much calmer. And yet it was stinging more than before when it was all swollen and glowing?
Beats me. Then again, most things do nowadays.
Back onto CorelDraw to make another Ode that had come into my distorted mind.

Here it is; sorry!

Waffling Ode Number 19⅑th

Cloud Photo of the Year!

Absolutely bootiful!

The Morrison order for Tuesday; that I started yesterday and gave up on when it needed verification and Code numbers from an outside source to log on was annoying. Well, believe it or not, I got a code to use this morning, by text, from the bank??? I used the number and finished the order that was still on site. Two things worry me…❶ I clicked buy now, and another email, confirmation from Morrison’s, told me I had ordered it for next Sunday, not Tuesday. ❷ Have I been hacked, scammed, fiddled, or not? Worried now!

Pressed on with this Ode, I knew I’d get around to it eventually, but not as late as this. Gone eleven o’clock!

03:00hrs: Decided to get something to eat; the blog will have to wait.

Ah, the mushroom pate is not as good as the Sainsbury one, but very lovely. Fresh ready-prepared oven chips, last of bullet-hard beetroot, and tomatoes. Wholemeal cobs, BBQ dip, and for afters: An orange jelly, with squirty low-fat imitation, pretend cream sprayed all over it. Flavour rating; 6.9/10, the chips (fries) let it down.

Got the pot’s washed, and I settled to watch an episode of Kitchen Nightmares. Fell asleep, and the landline burst forth, waking me crudely! I bungled my way out of the c1968 recliner to get to the phone before it stopped; “Hello?” – “Mr Chambers, Gerald?” “Yes, is that Hristina?” And it was my beautiful, beloved Haematology Nurse. I think she said she would be coming to take the blood sample on Monday. She had a clear voice on the phone and seemed impressed that I recognised her voice. A picture of her came into my mind… that’s why I’m not sure if it was Monday or Tuesday she would be calling. I tend to get excited when she calls me.

I resettled in the c1963 recliner, and I started to watch the TV, but I drifted off into a much-needed sleep… Not for long!
♫ Oh, Susana ♫… Joseph, the evening carer, woke me up. His shaky-right leg was going like the clappers tonight when he sat down. Got the medications sorted and gave him his choice of the thank-you treats. (Woo-Woo, I think?) Saw him off and locked the front door.

Got down in the recliner once again, determined to get some sleep… But No! As I was drifting off, I felt the dreaded wet warm sensation in the PPs (Protection Pants). I was certain that I’d had a leak. So, up yet again, and to the wet room to wash and get new PPs on. , It was worse,
So cleaning up and medicationalisationing was needed.

I noticed the glow from the late sun setting and just had to take a photo of it. A misty, unclear, but mood-prompting shot, so I thought.
The body was tired, the mind ready to be switched off, I got down in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, rusty, wobbly-recliner for the umpteenth time.

Up now this Friday, I must have dropped off to sleep, on the insistence of my body & brain, so many times. And every time, someone or thing woke me up. I think this must have confused my already unreliable brain. Cause when I got down in the recliner this time, in search of Sweet Morpheus, it refused to let me drift off! It was hours (and oh, so many wee-wees before I finally got off!

Fed Up? Me? Yes! Hehehe!

Inchcock Today: Diary & Odeing

Inchcock would like to start this blog with one of his more heartwarming efforts, Ode-wise. Sentimental, uplifting, exhilarating style of Odeing. It’s part of his self-declared “I’m fed up with hearing myself moan” policy. Thank you!

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Wednesday 3rd August 2020

I spent five hours head down in the recliner last night. If I got about three hours of sleep, I was lucky. One of the worst “Shoot awake & nod-off again” nights ever. At 07:45hrs, A real shaking of a wakeup, with the need for a wee-wee, forced me to scramble free of the c1966 recliner and over to the overnight bucket. I failed to get Little Inchie out in time! Gragnangles! Off to the wet room. I was in a bit of a state, so decided to get another stand-up wash and a change of PP’s naturally. I gave the shower a go, just to see if might work, but there was no noise from the drain-forcer, and the red light came on, so I quickly turned it off at the power again. A got a stand-up washing of the affected areas. New pants on, and back out to the kitchenette to get the kettle on.

Carried out. With another set of fantastic results to savour.

SYS a phenomenal 126!
DIA at 69

Pulse 82
Body temperature 33°f

Couldn’t ask for a better set of figures. Why, I’m down to near normal and in the green, to boot!
07:45hrs: Richard arrived, and he seemed in a slightly perkier mood today at first. But when he sat down, the yawning began again. After interrogating him, Hehehe! I discovered he’s had a bad night again.

He showed me the monitor the Diabetes clinic had fitted on his arm. He scans it twice a day, and the results go straight through to the hospital. True monitoring and a very natty system. Glad he’s got it, so a professional eye can keep tabs on his sugar level.

Not much time for nattering this morning, although he didn’t rush me at all. His body language and my EQ told me he wanted to get away early, and that’s fair enough for me. Hobbled him to the door, where he picked up the waste bags. Made sure that he’d got the bag of treats and wished him some sleep as we parted.

I spent hours on getting this blog template started, but it was hard work; the eyes are not so good, and it was a medley of mistakes, errors, correcting, and then finding the corrections were wrong as well! Time flew by, and I had so many breaks for wee-wees that I thought they would never stop! They didn’t, but did slow down a little after 14:00hrs!

My toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy neighbour above kicked off with venom. And continued on and off, firth next five hours. Still, it’s nice to know he’s still alive.

The rumbling innards suddenly got more volatile, with involuntary emissions of wind from the hind quarters. And off on a hobble to the Porcelain Throne. One of the oddest visits in a long time. I got sat down on the Throne, and much wind escaped, but nothing else. I waited patiently, having a go at the crossword; for some reason, I could read the clues with less difficulty than usual. There’ll be a reason for that. If you find it, can you let me know, please?
Anyway, I gave up. got the pants and trews back on and was opening the wet room door, and winds started coming again, accompanied by the rumbling and grumbling innards. Back onto the Throne… for a repeat performance. seems likely that Constipation Konrad is in charge of the bowels, then? Another surrender, with that feeling that something has to, or will erupt at any time now. Most uncomfortable!

As I got into the hallway, with perfect timing, I was only two feet away from the panel: and the intercom rang forth! Yes, YES, it was the plumber arriving to investigate the shower!!!

He was a nice, patient chap. Listened s I explained at I was doing when the alarm went off, and he investigated for me. Five minutes later, he’s got the shower working again. And took the time to tell what had gone wrong with it. A filter had been blocked, and he’s changed it, well cleaned it up, good as new. Explained to me that if a lot of people use the showers at the same time, especially in the higher flats, sometimes the pressure changes. If this happens again, turn it off, and try again in a few minutes. I thanked him and insisted he take a cold drink from the fridge in thanks. Grrreat!

Put some potato cubes in the oven and made an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow morning. Then got the potatoes in the oven. I’m just having the spuds with some of Jenny’s donated tomatoes, I think. After eating this, maybe I can get some catching-up sleep. But, will I be able to?

MEMORY BLANKS:
Found this photo in the morning. Not the foggiest memory of making it or eating it… But when I saw this, a taste of the veggie burgers came into my mouth.
I think I liked it. Haha!.

Memory regained: When woke me up when she arrived. Obviously, I must have fallen asleep. I was so drowsy after she stirred me that maybe I’d just got off to sleep? It took me awhile to get things together? I remember getting her a cold drink from the fridge and Valerie leaving, then it was head down again… That was it until 00:20hrs when I woke in need of a wee-wee…

A most peculiar evening.

Inchcock Today: Off to the EENT Hospital

Escape from the flats to the hospital

Got lost twice, forgot I’d got no trousers on… Oh, dearie me!

A Tale of Inchcock’s Day (Five Hours), Out on Tuesday

After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself.

But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! I felt almost reborn… not the proper terminology, but close.

I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.

Naturally, something had to go wrong after that wonderful start to the day. Gragnangles! I sorted out suitable things to wear, got the risky job done first, and put the diabetic bamboo socks on. The comfortable-wearing long ones.

But I had to use Sock-Glide-Glenda. True to form, I trapped my fingers twice, the same ones, of course, on each sock. That thick plastic gripper is deadly! I got a welt and a couple of bruises as well. But this did not put me off cause I intended to do my best to get the go-ahead with cataract operations, and after a couple of mild oaths, I carried on and went to gather the other needs of the morning.

Comfortable shoes, trousers, jumper, and the sleeveless jacket with all the pockets in it. It’s lasted a long time this one, I said to myself, as I got the camera (not much chance to use it though, Tsk!) and emptied the pockets to place the needed items for the trip…

Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).

  The entire lining had seemed to go rotten! Only one of the twelve pockets was useable! Undeterred, I limped into the hallway to see if those hanging up had fared better. Two of them had not, and they joined the blue one in the extra-large bin bag! Humph! I checked the khaki one’s pockets. All seemed okay, so I swapped the emptied contents in that jacket. Got the PP’s, trousers and best jumper on.

I realised that Carer Richard was due shortly, so I thought I’d better check I’d not left anything on the floor in the hallway for him to trip over; he’s a good lad.

Guess what? In my haste, I stubbed my toe on the towel airer, lost balance, and was entangled with the tipped-over airer and towel on the floor! With new welts on various parts of my knee, head and face! Unglefrogwonglingisations! I later found that I’d broken a tooth as well. My spirits were getting a little lower than they were earlier. Cor, blimey!

I worked on finishing the blog, and the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune belted out from the doorbell. I expected to see Richard come in, but no! Another… I’d not unlocked the door!!! So all that pain and hassle was for nothing! I had left some stuff on the floor on the plus side and was pleased to move them if Richard did a Whoopsie of his own on them.

I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!

I finished changing and was ready for when the lift arrived to get me to the ophthalmology clinic.

The door chime rang again; the door was unlocked, but whoever it was didn’t come in. It was Josie returning her dish and tray from her Sunday lunch. She did not say she liked it… Oh, dear! At least she didn’t say there was something she didn’t like about it?

The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.

I made my way out of the apartment and down and out through the main lobby. Two ambulance men? Perhaps they’d heard stories about me? Hahaha!

The journey was uncomfortable, but all of the old ambulances I’ve been in were. So I anticipated it.

When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the ophthalmology department waiting room.

Then took me to the waiting area. I could not hear anything the receptionist said, and one of the men translated for me. I realised then that I’d not put the crossword book in the coat or walker trolley. Shame that, cause it’s the only book I can read the clues on at the moment.

So I sat there, nosing at all around me. Bored rigid! But it didn’t take long for a lovely, attractive young lady to call my name out – but I didn’t hear it at first, and the gal took the bother to come and ask me, Hehe!

She led me to a small room with many machines for an ophthalmology-specific procedure. The blast in the eyes and many tests were patiently done on the beads. Deep family history was gone into, and about an hour later, I was returned to the waiting area to await being called by the Ophthalmologist.

During my wait to be summoned, I learned a lot, such as the lady in a cream coat is having smoked haddock for supper tonight. The man and woman and an elderly pair do not like the TV cookery programmes other than Gordon Ramsay’s. A lady in a uniform but not a nurse or medical one was annoyed when someone phoned her. I could not hear the other natterings, the acoustics are not good in a big hall. Hehe!

The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.

With Peripheral Neuropathy, I had trouble keeping my chin on the plastic thingamabob and had to look up all the time. The lady was not impressed or amused. She had to keep starting whatever she was doing again. I don’t think I was very popular at all. I did explain my conditions when I went in.

The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.

I guesstimated about an hour later, and she gave me her diagnosis. Cataracts in the right eye only would be done; although you have cataracts in that left eye, they are not as bad as the right one. We’ll see how you are going with it when this operation is done before tackling glaucoma. She will refer me to the surgeon, 12-week an average waiting time.

During my appointment, she’d noticed Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and my right-leg dance. She was concerned because of the delicate nature of the operation. Even seeing in one eye sees is better than none. It can only be done with no movement from the patient at all! This doesn’t bode well! Nevertheless, I was ticked pink at it going ahead.

I was told to go to the main reception to arrange a lift home. I didn’t expect a lift back, so I was even more gee’d up now.  I was feeling perkier now.

But I was soon back in my typical frame of mind, feeling a bit of a fool! I could not remember where the main reception was. I set off, trying to retrace my earlier route in reverse, and ended up in a room that looked like it had many babies all over the place? I withdrew hastily! Found someone to ask where the main eye clinic reception was located. And realised it was one of the receptionists I couldn’t hear talking a few hours ago when I arrived. Hahaha!

Anyway, I found it, and I had the job of hearing what the gal at the counter was saying again. She scowled at me and pointed in the direction of a two-seater settee in the corner near the door. “I’ve to wait there, then?” I think she almost clapped when she realised I’d got the message. She put a thumb up for me! Har-har!

I don’t know how long they were coming, but I was glad they were. When Richard arrived, he was cheerful enough. Then I made yet another cock-up…

By pure luck, I took a right turn and found my way to the outer door, seeing the two men looking for me! I couldn’t keep up with the chap and lost him and my direction again! Now I did feel like a complete idiot!

They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. The first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). Then one through the top side windows. At least I got a few photographs on my trip out, my escape from the flat.

Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!

We were soon back at the flats after a carefully driven journey. The lads refused a treat of the cans in thanks from my bag. Ah, well!

But I wanted to make a start on this blog, which I did. I got in the flat, had a wee-wee, got the kettle on, got my trousers off, cut up, and cubed some potatoes to do in the oven. After an hour or so, the floor chime burst forth again…

To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!

I apologised hastily when I realised; it must have been a terrible sight for her. We managed a laugh about it, but I felt awful and openly cursed Dementia Doreen! Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing and feeling an almighty, right a proper twit, all flourished!

Worked on this blog. (I did get it finished) I’ll do this in the morning (Now). I was up late, and when I realised it was gone midnight, I was getting fed up with myself.

I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!

The mess that I made making the potatoes, and doing the washing up, soon brought me back down to earth. Hehehe!

Review of the Day – In Odes

Sweet Morpheus didn’t allow me much sleeping…
Throughout the night, I would wake up jumping!
But I did remember, today, the EENT hospital visiting…
The best session for weeks, the ablutioning…
The Porcelain Throne visit was messy and paining…
I forgot to unlock the door; the Carer couldn’t get in…

A stubbed toe fell over the airer, got entangled within,
Sock-Glide-Glenda left me with cuts, bruises, hands and shin!
Emptied my jacket, things fell out, on the floor dropping…
The inner lining had apparently been rotting!

Took me hours to sort another coat out,
And swap things around the pockets…
Got it sorted and dressed to look smart…
Almost forgot to put the drops in the eye sockets…

Then the ambulance arrived, and I was soon in…
Thanks, to them, for to the hospital were driving…
The receptionist, I could not hear talking…
Some advised me of what they were saying…
Then to another waiting room, I was soon going…

First examination in-depth, the lady was engaging…
Back to the waiting room, results awaiting…
Got the okay, then moved to another area of seating…
Had a chat with a lady who was fortysomething…

The second exam, even deeper, by a lady appealing…
Eye drops were applied, and my head was reeling…
Back to the waiting room, I did some earwigging…
Awaiting being called back for assessing…

More tests on a machine and blinking…
I smiled and gave the lady some blinking…
But I didn’t get any return acknowledging…

To the Main Reception, to get a lift home, I was pleased!
But Dementia Doreen sent the memory adrift…
I got lost en route; I panicked and wheezed…
Felt a fool, ashamed and almost had a tift!

Found the reception, a stranger helped translate,
Sit in that chair (pointing) and for your transport wait…
So I did and didn’t have long to wait…
A driver came, said, follow me, mate…

I tried to follow him, but he walking relatively swift…
Chasing after him gave me a glift, boy, could he shift…
I lost him and got a bit miffed…
Panicked a bit and gave a little snift…
But found him outside, looking a bit squiffed…

Got home and lost all sense of timing…
The mind felt like it was abseiling…
Took my clothes off, nice and cooling,
Started with the day’s blogging…
Along came the evening Carer; I was welcoming…
Until I realised I had no trousers on, and started scaring!
Felt like an idiot, started self-caterwauling,
Embarrassed, ashamed, frustrating!

Well gone midnight got some nosh cooking,
Canned chill and potatoes, no casseroling,
Then turned my attention to sleeping…
Dreamed about Jillie and me, canoodling…
I think I started sweating and drooling…
A mortifyingly humiliating day, disconcerting!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchcock Today – Saturday 29th January 2022

Saturday 29th January 2022

After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.

One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.

Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?

I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!

The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!

This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.

It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?

I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged

I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.

All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.

Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.

I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.

A little early to use the noisy shower yet.

And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.

I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.

The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!

I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!

The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.

I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.

Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!

I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?

I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…

Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!

Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.

A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!

All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)

After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.

Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…

Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.

Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!

If There Is A Lord…

I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward…
If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered?
Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound…
With the minuscule willie wot I found?
Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!

My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard…
Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard!
Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard,
Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard!
Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!

My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit!
I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard?
Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it…
Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard…
Even my already mini-willy further withered!

I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard…
Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward…
Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard!
I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted!
Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented…
The hearing gets worse, things are going downward…
Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…

The money is getting low,
But of course, you’ll know…
I’ll have to rob an apple orchard,
Keeping tabs on your scoreboard?
Now, black depressions on me, you bestow!
The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!

Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe?
I really have tried to be a decent fellow…
But bad luck seems to constantly flow…
To the little-willied idiot that you know…
The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago!
And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow,
You even teased me last year with impetigo!

The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go…
Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though…
I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe…
I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe,
Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow…
I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow…
Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no!
Is it yet time for me to go?
Please let me know…

………………………………………………

Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.

It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.

The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.

Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.

As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.

The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.

The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.

As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…

I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!

They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!

I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.

Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!

The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing