Inchcock Today: Thursday 12th May 2022: Diary with Ode

MORNING THOUGHTS

‘Tis not just the ending of civility and decency…
Nor the gallantry, gentleness and long gone chivalry,
That annoys and really seems to get to me,
Why bother, you said; you’ll soon be just history…

Good question! My reading of mankind’s history…
To me, human actions past and now… are a mystery!
Not that I believe all I read, certainly!
Nothing in the annuls is a certainty!

Human tellurians all lie and cheat to gain a better destiny…
Mostly to gain power, be the top dog, with greed for money,
Wanting to put nowt into the pie…but enjoying the honey,
Smiling at the opportunity for profit via anything phoney!

They’ll pretend to be doing their helpful duty,
But we know that it’s all on the QT…
But knowing we also fail in our duty…
Some even think that life is game and cutsie!

No rent to pay, they steal from their old Auntie,
The wine and dine while she has chip buttie…
The gals go the lads and the lads for tottie…
I think I’m losing the point of this dittie?

You do that when you’ve got Doreen Dementia, a pity…
Yet still, I try to create summat funny and witty…
Well, not often, but I still have the edacity…
If even a swell, the blooming audacity!

Recalling what I going to write is beyond doability!
My memory pad notes show indecipherability…
My nerve ends sends the brain messages… insufficiently,
They get orders back and jerk, jump obediently…

The right leg and arm flail, I may fall, it’s all a farcicality,
Gone on for ages now, so I have a familiarity…
It all affects my confidence and fatiguability…
The Doctors say any treatment is beyond feasibility!

Then there are other ailments, mental and rheumaticky,
They can be as risky, painful and tricky…
Like the fungal lesion bleeding on my dickie!
But, I must not moan and be nitpicky…
I just hope you find this ode a little bit witty!

Thursday 12th May 2022

Nocturnally, I shared the night with Colin Cramps again. His favourite targets were the right leg, left hand, right shoulder and side of the neck.

I lay a while, wondering if I could get back to sleep… but the need for a wee-wee arose, and I disentangled by my mastodonic-sized, wobbly epigastrium and torso’d body from the recliner.

As I was doing the balance exercises, I plopped backwards and ended up in the recliner again. I instantly felt the warm wet sensation from Little Inchies Fungal Lesions! Oh, Clump!

Grabbed metal Mickey and off to the wet room. Bit of a mess made of things, and the pain was pretty bad; cleaning things up and medicating them. On the bright side, (there always is one, you just have to find it, Hehe!). However, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not bleeding from the fall. Had a wee-wee.

I washed and went to the kitchenette to make a tea brew but forgot to take it with me to the computer, which I found later. Tsk!

I booted the machine up and thought I’d try to get the photos on from yesterday. And after setting up today’s template, I tried my luck. At first, there was no usual response from the SD reader or computer. I spent a while swapping and moving the card in hope… then remembered the mug of Glengettie I’d left in the kitchen. Made another mugful.

Back to the computer, but the tea still did not get drunk. To my surprise, the card was recognised. So I got them in ASAP before the computer changed its mind. 

I was nervously on tenterhooks all the time, trying to rush but not dislodge the card and get each photo onto CorelDraw to touch up. (I don’t so much of that nowadays, you know, touching up. Hehehe! This on the right is a photo of the Spirit vinegar delivered yesterday.

Sphygmomanometerisationing results in Blood Pressure. SYS 149. DIA 72, and the pulse was at 79bpm. Which looked fair enough to me.

The Chinese (Hong Kong) is made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer, gave as good a reading as ever, at 34.8°c, another bit of good fortune there!

Later on last night, I had to get up from the recliner, rather grumpily (Yes, me grumpy, hard to believe, I know!) to get some more Phorpain gel to rub in the cramp ridden hands and legs.

I was glad that I did now. The ever later sunset was bootiful! What a hue!

Young Richard, the carer, arrived. He didn’t look too good. So I plied him with some of his favourite goodies. In a rush to get home, and I can’t blame him. Not sure if he’s due tomorrow or not. I think so.

A picture here from yesterday; I think so, anyway.

My favourite puffer clouds were out on display. I couldn’t see any figures or faces in them like we did yesterday, mind you.

An hour or two of doing the Ode for yesterday’s blog, the gurgling from within advised me to make my way to the Porcelain Throne. Which I did! I reckon the Trotsky Terence is about to take control in the rear-end evacuation department.

Pressed on with the blogging again, it’s taking all my time, but I like it! As Dick Emery used to say.

After the rain stopped, I nipped out on the balcony to take a photo of the end of the Chestnut Way car parking antics. The roadway on the corner at the end of the tower block was in a state! Mud had torrented down from Woodthorpe Grange Park and made a right mess for the poor old drivers to get through to get to their cars. Although the Red-Van-Man was okay, being parked on the yellow no parking chevrons, as usual.

.The right hand did a little finger manipulating on its own accord again this morning.

I go so far with the blog and am in a quandary about getting the ablutions done. I’ll explain; I think the Wilko order is due today. Deana might come with a Council lady with the spare key. So, if I go into the wet room, I’ll not hear the door chime. Even if I did, would I get to the door in time? I suppose this means I’ll have to stay dirty? Then be forced to stay up late to get the job done, then?

Still, he can’t get a signal to Nottingham to work!

Came good and early. Soon got me sorted. I did drop a beta-blocker… no, a Codeine when taking the medications, but I was lucky enough to spot it on the carpet. She took the waste bag with her on departing. I fang you!

Resigned to no internet availability from Fries again.

Got a nosh sorted out. Fishcakes with peas in them, potato lumps. Two mini cakes and a horrible lemon cheesecake. Taste: 6.5/10.

Went to do the washing up and tool this snap from the kitchen window. It looks like a microscope view of some bacteria. Hehe! Not one of my better efforts.

I phoned Jenny and Jillie for a natter about nothing. For once, Sweet Morpheus let me join him in slumber a little sooner than usual tonight. And only a few waking ups!

Inchcock Today: At least I think it is…

I’m Bewildered, bemused, befogged & bewildered!
I’m possibly… no, probably going bonkers, besides!

I seem to have carried on from yesterday’s hospital visit and afterwards; the pathetic cock-ups, Embarrassments and Whoopsiedangleploppings, and the brain is refusing to do as I ask or want! Dementia Doreen is undoubtedly playing her part. In fact: today, she’s been a lot worse than she was on Tuesday. Considering that she got me lost twice in the hospital, and I then lost the ambulance man! The worst thing was my welcoming the evening Carer with no trousers on. I got so far behind that I had to limit the content a smidge and cut it short in places. Cheers! Enough of my moaning… no doubt more will follow. (It was all different in the end, I was up for over 23hrs, but not in good condition mentally or physically. Hahaha!) Not much sleep again.

I think I need help of some sort. Let the Diary beginneth…

Inchcock Today: Thursday 5th May 2022

06:25hrs: I stirred back into imitation life and worked out that although with many waking ups and nodding offs, I’d reckon I’d had a good four hours of sleep. I forced my wobbly bodied torso from the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety recliner to have a wee-wee. This was a frustratingly drip-drip affair, which still gave me a load of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Washed, sorted the bin bags, and readied them near the door. Made up Carer Richard’s bag. And made a start on finishing the blog on Wednesday blog updating. A cruelly slow job!

My Carer Richard arrived, looking tired out, poor lad. He patiently listened to my moans, complaints, and groans. A bit vague of things then… until the Iceland food order arrived…The delivery chap left the bags in the doorway; I offered him a tipple as thanks (Cider opted for) and got the carriers one at a time into the kitchenette. It seems that I had overdone the kitchen towels again… I’ve not got the foggiest idea why I do this, you know. I bet there was a good one when I ordered them, Humph! I got them sorted, wondering why I’d bought so many paper towels and wondered if they were on offer, but I did not know. There are no invoices with the deliveries nowadays. And the costs had risen sharply!

I got the veggie pasties out to eat later, and they had frosted over with my taking them out of the box last week to make more room in the freezer. I recall Richard warning me about this happening, and he was right. So I ditched them and some fish fingers and fishcakes that had gone the same way. Ah, well, that will not happen again, I hope. Now that Richard has bought me the freezer bags to sue next time bless the lad.

Did some more updating on the computer, but it took far too long, with the fingers shaking and nerve ends not working, Dementia Doreen, and the occasional vicious Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley’s outbursts – had created too much wasted time in having to correct mistakes that I’d made. Sometimes it was a job finding out how or what I’d done to get into the messes I did!

Received a call from the Ophthalmology Department at the Queens Medical Centre EENT. Told me that they would be calling me sometime over the next four days to advise me on the outcome of the third assessment and whether the referral for the Cataract surgery would be accepted. I asked if they could possibly Email me instead, but that seemed a no-no.

I rang Warden and desk-top dancer Deana. Explaining my having to stay in and why. Then begged her to come a get her nibbles and would she be kind enough to take the treats to Jenny, Frank and Norah for me. She said yes, bless her cotton socks.

Updated the blog again, and I wrote an ode for it at the end. As Warden Deana arrived, bless her. She was proper up to the neck in it this morning, too! Kind of her to take the bits to Jennie and Norah for me ♥.

At long last, I got the blog done and posted off to WordPress.

Not a single visit to the Porcelain Throne yet? And only three weak unwilling wee-wees all day, and it’s well into the afternoon now!

He was on and off with the banging this morning, then a break, and now he’s back again, constant tap-tapping with the odd clattering bout. Tsk! 

Then an: I went into the kitchenette to make a brew of Glengettie, dropped the milk bottle, and stubbed my toe to get the mop and bucket from the wet room to clean things up! A bruised shoulder from on the doorframe on the way out. Of course, I just laughed it off; I wasn’t bothered in the slightest...

Well, well, well!… The Blood Pressure results came out nicely; at SYS 122 DIA 57 and the pulse at 77bpm. I was well-pleased pleased with those readings. Which really were much betterer. Phenomenal! Moved on to the body temperature. Another decent result here, too! Giving a 33.5°c, only 1.25°c from the target level. Thank you!

Found some lost sky photos. Put them on here on the left. Nice!

I was not entirely Compos-Mentis, yet, the brain was a little hazy. So I decided to check with the Google Calendar to look at any entries that may need attention…

A few items certainly needed to be logged in the grey cells by gum. Being reminded of the Morrison order, Joe the window cleaner, and the DVT Warfarin INR blood test, all coming my way this Thursday! Grobbleturds! I bet I get something wrong, forget summat, or lose track and wander off into Foggy-Land, at some time? Hahaha!

Got back to updating Wednesday’s blog. But not for long.

My friendly window cleaner, Joe, arrived, who, despite my checking of his visit on my Google Calendar, I had forgotten about! This launched me into one of my boring ‘Telling my troubles’ sessions, which I think Joe enjoyed oddly enough. For there were many laughs and smiles distributed among us. Hahaha! I dug around and found some cash to pay him.

The Amazon shopper arrived and rang the intercom. But I could not hear it at all, although the infamous was banging about up in his flat… again!!! I was lucky enough to have to go to the WC for a wee-wee and saw the light on the panel was lit. Also, the man was patient enough to try again after the timer had stopped things.

I thanked him and offered a can of his choice in thanks. I think he went for the Woo-Woo can. I got the bags into the kitchen, and there were a good few and some heavy ones. I’d stocked up on the treat cans before they go up in price again! I’d also got as many cans of the Chilli Con Carni as they would let me.

The cupboards were looking fullish again now. It took me ages to get the things sorted; unsurprising how many there were. But I even got that wrong and had to move stuff from the wrong places to the right ones – getting fed up with myself again. I was struggling to concentrate just like yesterday? It must have taken me over an hour to get the job done.

I was pleased to get back to blogging, no matter how slow I was doing with it. Such a busy day, and interruptions all the time. This means when I get back to the computer, Doreen Dementia has stolen some memories of where I was up to, what I was going to do, and needed to do… I’ve already found a timing error, items out of chronological sync! I’ll leave them now. As I write these words, it is already past 22:00hrs, so another sleepless night? Humph!

Next, a beautiful patient laughed at my jokes, haematology nurse arrived to take blood for the INR DVT Warfarin test. I didn’t mind being disturbed by her. When she came close to me to dig the needle in, she told me my nose was bleeding. (I think it was because of when I hit the doorframe yesterday with my chin and nose, Tsk!) Hehe!

But DD (Doreen Dementia)  would not let me remember it at that time. I had no idea it was bleeding. I got a tissue, and only a few spots were on the kitchen towel. We had a natter while she inspected the Enoxaparin loaded hypos use-by dates. However, she inquired how you manage to inject needles in your tummy four times a day while shaking and wobbling like you do. I explained that the INR level has been so good for the past month that I’ve not had to do it. I had to practically insist she took a can in thanks with her.

I think that she may well have taken to my sense of humour, good looks, flowing locks, taut body, witticisms and youthful, masculine, muscled, young, vibrant body… Well… or not, like! Har-Har!

I took a photo of the darkening sky from the kitchenette window, and I dropped the camera on the floor!. Wot a clot! Still, it seems to be working, which is more than can be said about me. Will I ever get the blog finished? I tried again…

The ♫Oh, Susanna♫ tune came from the front door. It took me a while to get there, to find this box on the left near the door. Ah, the bowels/basins from Amazon?  I’d ordered them to replace the ones that Josie had broken, so I got plastic-porcelain ones and these enamel ones. The enamelled ones, they were all made in China, of course. I got the enamelled ones, cause the advert said they will keep the food hotter for longer. I got three of these for Sister Jane as well. The problem with them is that each bowl has a sticker with Chinese writing; it didn’t matter if it was too small to read; I’d not have understood it even if I could.

The ‘Clanger’ about them is that the glue stays firmly stuck to the metal! So, another hour or so lost trying to clean off the glue! Then I could not get it all off, but I’d scratched the gloss trying to! What a waste of time!

I rang Sister Jane, we’ve not spoken for a while now, to tell her about the dishes. We had a delightful chinwagging session for ages, but I enjoyed it. For ages, the thought of never getting the blog finished got to me afterwards. We nattered about many things, and both agreed that the way old folks are spoken to by some medical personages is getting worse lately. That prompted a tale from each of us; Hahaha!

I gave up with bowls. And made up a bottle of Spring Water with some orange juice, then took this photographicalisation of the changed sky view.

Cleaned up and got the box’s cut up, all ready to go to the chute later or in the morning. The landline flashed! It was Esther asking how I went on at the hospital. She’s calling to see me on Tuesday, that was nice of her.

Then on the blogging, and again…

The Landline chirped and flashed again; Gawd, I’m popular today? It was Ethel from the QMC DVT Warfarin Clinic. Giving me the new dosages for Warfarin. The INR level was spot-on the button… that’s twice on the trot now, after years of never attaining it! The nurse had told her of my nosebleed, and  I mentioned my walking into the door frame… I think she would have been laughing over there at this time. She’s a cheerful character. I’ve not seen her for years now. When (if) I go to have cataracts done, I’ll nip in to see her… that’s if I can see at all. Har-har-har!

I got the nosh on, and I did some work here while it cooked for 30-minutes. Pots, tomatoes, peas and veggie pasties. The pasties were Gregg’s, the meat substitute was not very nice, but the vegan pastry was delicious. Taste: 6.5/10.

Washed the tray and utensils, and along came Carer Natalie. I’m pleased to report that I had some trousers on for this visit (Fool!)

Ode To The Day

Lots of other stuff, good & bad, ‘appened today…
Dementia Doreen lets lots of them get away!
Bit, I expect this; often, I accept it almost casually…
Cause there’s summat worse, causes me to worry,
That may also be due to Doreen, alackaday!

Memory Maureen forgets, not always straight away…
Doreen installs her daily brain-storms melee…
Some thought I’d like to keep others to shoo-away,
Usually, the nasty Thoughts stay, as they did today…
Pleasant Thoughts always seem to keep well away!

I’ve many mental & physical ailments, and they stay!
So everything I need to do takes longer each day…
I’ve become a hoarder, who can’t throw anything away,
Not short-term memories, of course, or clamjamfry…
Fears, embarrassments, and shame flourished today!

Didn’t start this blog until well-gone midday…
Carers, nurses, cleaners, deliveries this Thursday,
I was awake from 04:00hrs until past midnight, I say!
Concentration was replaced by tomfoolery and complacency…
Time, dates, ideas, and fears, were in constant disarray!

I think it’s next Tuesday, my next pension day…
Price-Rises, rent, power, rates, insurance, even pasta!
Everything foodwise cost me much more today…
Price of desserts and drinks, a 20% increase… Nasty!

My life is becoming confusing and delusionary!
Gone are days of joy, contentment and the odd jamboree,
Are Dementia Doreen’s influences really necessary?
I suppose they have sort of become customary?
Either way, she can be so bloody cruel and scary!

 The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Evening, all!

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: Monday 2nd May 2022

INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 2nd May 2022

Hehehe! Managed to get some photos loaded at last! Of course, remember which was taken when and why… will primarily be up to Doreen Dementia. So it’s likely to have a bit of guesstimating.

This would have been taken somewhere around, or close to Friday, or maybe Saturday morning. I’d guesstimate, judging by the sun’s placement, coming from the rear of the flats, leaving a shadow, about 07:00hrs?

Possibly Friday evening’s meal. I remember making this little feast because it was the first time I tried those savoury fries. They were delivered on Friday (I think)… see that? I can sometimes remember things, and others not! The sourdough veggie-beef sarnies were lovely; the gherkins and tomatoes went down well with some butter. The fries were a little disappointing; not a lot of taste. A strawberry cheesecake and mini cake rounded things off nicely. Flavour-Rating 7/10.

On Saturday (Mayhaps), the blood pressure was one of the best ever! The SYS at 128. DIA 65, the pulse is low, but not enough for any concern, at 75. The wee-weeing had eased off a little as well.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) was made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, contactless thermometer came up trumps; with a temperature of35.3°c. The highest it’s been for many a month!

I found some strange botches on the legs when it came to doing the Phorpain Gelling on Saturday (?).

Of course, nothing new, but the legs have been so good for so long that I was surprised at this. Whatever they were, the purple patches appeared to be pretty fresh.

However, the normal state of the leg veins, with the superficial venous thrombosis (phlebitis), chronic venous insufficiency (CVI), iliac veins, femoral vein, saphenous vein, and popliteal veins, just seem to have disappeared under the folds of flesh? The tibial veins could not even be seen? Mind you, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Glenda and Saccades Sandra, might be affecting my vision, I suppose.

I had a treat on Saturday; oh, yes, I did! I made some of the cheesy baked potatoes, the first I’ve made in a long time. It could, well should have been a higher score, but I overdid the buttering, which marred things. Taste Rating 8.5/10.

And with no stab wounds, cuts or injuries at all! I saved three halves of the delicious but over cheesy buttered potatoes for supper! Mmm! And boy, was I glad I did later on when I warmed them in the microwave…

Then I decided I’d make some more on Sunday, with the last Leicester cheese.

I was on the verge of going into a Smug-Mode… and I made a mess of bending down to pick up some cutlery I’d dropped while doing the washing up. I tumble forwards, banging into the fridge-freezer, and the pots and jars on top of it came tumbling down, as the machine quaked with having my flabby weight hit it! So I had to rewash them as well! Humph!

Hey-Ho! Serves me right! Since then, I’ve had a nagging discomfort in the lower back.

Getting settled for the night, I decided to look at the end car park from the balcony, and I took this picture on the left. Hehehe! Red-Van-Man’s lousy parking is getting to the other tenants now.

The evening Carer was Cheeky Charlie (If I recall correctly). Always pleased to see her, and she gives me a little natter each time, Bless her! ♥

The evening’s kip was full of waking ups with a jump. At least I did get off to kip pretty soon, though, so I shouldn’t complain too much. IT felt terrible on Sunday morning, though, as if I’d not had any time with Sweet Morpheus!

All went well. Only two nicks shaving!

Ah, much better this time; I reckon that Trotsky Terence is losing his grip on the innards, at last. A bit messy, so cleaning and sanitising were needed after the evacuation.

Colin Cramps gave me a right nasty pasting in the left foot as I came out into the kitchen! I took a snap of it; you can clearly see Colin’s grip on the toes? Huh! He doesn’t often attack during the day. He does every night, in the legs, feet, toes, hands or wrist, so often I rarely mention it nowadays; just take it as usual.

I started to prep Josies chilli-con-carne. Chilli, Light soy sauce, sea salt, chilli and salt mixture and beef seasoning. Then went on the computer for about three hours and forgot all bout it on the hob! I chopped the leeks and mushrooms, ready to go in later, got the beans and meat in the saucepan on low light, and added her favourite seasoning.

The meal was ruined, and I had a job to salvage the saucepan to use again! It took ages to get things sorted, and then I had to start again from the beginning!

I felt like a right idiot! Tosspot! Still, Doreen’s Dementia will not be denied. All I could do was pretend I wasn’t bothered, hoping that she could tell, and it pissed her off a bit, too!

What seemed like a month later, I’d got the second Sunday nosh sorted, put it for Josie and got it on the tray with the usual selection of nibbles and treats for her. At least it tasted good… well, to me anyway. I delivered it at the regular time to Josie’s door, 12:00hrs. To my surprise, she said she didn’t expect it with it being Bank Holiday. Doreen seems to have got us both in her grip… Hahaha! I’ve never failed to deliver her meal, whatever Sunday it was.

Although I tell a fib there. I did deliver it on a Saturday a couple of weeks ago when Doreen had convinced me it was Sunday. Hehe! I like doing it for her, it is getting harder, but I’ve no intention of stopping yet! IT WAS MISSED when I had the stroke, but as soon as I got back to the flat, it was served up every Sunday again.

Oh, heck, I’m back in the high red zone again! SYS at 161, DIA 69, and the pulse at 75. The body temperature thermometer recorded a decent 34.0°c. I’ve had worse, a lot worse. It’s the past four all being so low that caught me out.

I served up my planned cheesy baked spuds with some crispy onions. By gum, did I enjoy them… yes I did! Hehe! I didn’t overdo the butter this time, and they were much better than yesterday’s tasted. Flavour Rating: 8.9/10!

Monday: The sleep was even worse than Saturday night was! I just could not nod off! Turned the lights off, lulled the bobble-hat over my eyes, and fought with the Thought Storms… all to no avail! So I put the TV on if I want to watch something that can sometimes help me sleep.

But not last night. I found a film that I fancied watching, with Will Smith and Geoff Goldblume, and I watched it all the way through, over two hours! I was telling Carer Richard about it, he didn’t have much time cause he had another call to make. He told me it was Independence Day, as I could not remember. Sad, innit?

Grobbleknob and Knackleboings! I can’t win with these flipping Blood Test thingamajigs! SYS is even higher now than it was Sat and Sunday.

I wonder why this is? There will be a reason. Bound to be… However, this has often happened before. Last time it shot up for two days, then suddenly dropped?

I took another snap of the end car park at the end of Chestnut Way. Haha! I can’t tell if Red-Van-Man had moved, but the imitators, three of them, are getting scared of the white lines.

An odd occurrence with the waste bin near the computer desk. I threw away a used tissue, and it bounced right out from the bottom of the container? I had to get down on my knees to retrieve it from under the c1963 cabinet. I did so with only discomfort, no pain. Casually threw the tissue back in the waste bin, and… bugger me, it did it again! Another ferret under the wood had to use the picker-upperer this time to reach it, and to avoid everything odd that happens three times in a row scenario, I took it to the kitchenette bin. All part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Hahaha!

I took a snap through the part open balcony door. It looked nothing like this picture came out. Another mystery?

No, I doubt it. Probably due to the eye problems and, of course, my life-long struggle with achromatopsia,

The evening Carer should be here soon; time to get something to eat.

Here it is. A flavour rating of 7/10 was given. I soon got gesticulating and ate it all up.

Then the problem of getting to sleep was tackled. I had to put the TV on, which worked; I nodded off at the first set of commercials. But the springing awake with an annoying body and mind jerking jump began, repeatedly. No thought storms, though?

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Senses Alto-Egos Presence!

Alto-Inchy nearly became visible!

.

What the hell are you on about?

Do you believe in the Morlocks?

No…

Bet yer don’t know who they are?.

I couldn’t give a sod who they are or ain’t.

A simple question, no need to gerrall upset abarght it, me old fruit…

Oh, frug-off! I don’t know where you’ve been, but the last three days have been heaven without you! Wherever you’ve been, can’t yer sod-off back to it…

No, no, no… I’ve been visiting the Morlocks, and I am the first Alto-Ego to do so!

Bollocks!

Ah! Yer see, you really don’t know who the Morlocks are then, do you?

I told you I couldn’t give a rats arse about who they are; why do you want me to know about them, whoever they are? I think…

Ah, but yer doesn’t think, that’s why you’re missing out so much… No! Let me finish…

Oh, go on then… let’s have it…

Well, you smarty-pants know-nothing. The Morlocks inhabit the earth’s inner and underside… and have done for longer than any tellurian life forms have, even before…

Is this going to take long? Only I can feel the need for a crap coming on… which will mean I’ll have had two loads of crap today… Hahaha!

Look Dumbo! This is important; I’m not kidding either. This could benefit both of us, and we can have a lifetime of fame… Well, fair enough, not you, you’re about to snuff it anytime now, at least I’ll be the most famous Alto-Ego ever…

I’m not interested nor bothered about dying – that’s cause you, yer foul-breathed bully Alto, have made me this way. With yer constant putting me down, decrying me, making me so depressed, frustrated and angry, fed-up with failures, this never happened before I found you lurking in my body and mind!

Well, that’s so nice of you to say so, and admit it too! I may have misread you a little. To know that you appreciate all my efforts to maintain your grumpiness, self-hatred and demoralised at all times – I think I

I’ve got to admit it; you’ve done a cracking job. So, go on, tell me about visiting the Morlocks then…

They told me how I could gain some visibility to humans! The Morlocks could see me clearly all the time… but I didn’t like that. I couldn’t sneak upon them, and they knew where I was all the while. No, I shan’t be returning to see them again. Thank heavens, tellurians don’t have this ability! But this gaining part-visibility is excellent! Again, I have supreme and individual capabilities that no other Alto-Ego has! Meaning I can scare the living daylights out of my current human, that’s you, of course. And learn to go fully visible with a bit of training. Of course, your time is nearly up, so I might go a little easy on you cause we’ve been pals for a long time now, and…

‘Ode on mush! Let me get a hold of this. You’re using me as a guinea-pig to practice yer visibility training? After telling me how much yer appreciate my help? You’ll likely give me a heart attack, and my limited time will be shorter…

Oh, yes, did you not see the outlines of weapons on me when I arrived? You should have; I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t, cause I wanted…

Screw you! You scumball! How would you feel of you had a limited life span? You’ve destroyed my self-confidence and frustrated and depressed me; I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t responsible for giving me Vascular Dementia… Ah! You were laughing at me, you horrible Alto-Ego! I just got a glimpse of an outline of the form you’ve taken…

Keep it cool, man! Well, I say man… Hehehe! No need to start getting new abilities now. You’ve got little time left to use ’em anyway! Why gerrupset? At long last, you’ve worked out that Alto-Egos distribute such ailments… Hold on, yer going red in the face now, that’ll do yer no good, Inchcock!

Why the pluck do you want to give innocent humans a mind-crippling thing like dementia? Are you telling me that you Altos are responsible for the ailment?

Of course, we are, Blunderbrain! It’s the easiest thing for us to inflict on humans – that’s why so many of you get it. Gawd, you’re thick! I mean, it’s not exactly easy, cause when we pass it on to you, we’ve got to wait twenty years before we find out if it has been successful or not, so you must appreciate, we have done it for our own good, yer see…

Gragnangles! How does yer work that out then?

Oh, Inchcock, you are so sad. You cannot see what’s happening at all, can yer?

Worrya mean?

Look at your ailment graphic above, and that’s not got the Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Gladys, or Doreen Dementia on it yet, has it?

Well?

Listen, what’s yer worst worry, not counting being deaf, and can’t see much? Go on; I’ll wait while you muse over it…

Erm, not counting being deaf and can’t see much?…

That’s what I said, no rush, take yer time Inchcock; not too long, cause yer ain’t got a lot of time left, have you?

I’m trying to think here; I don’t need you confusing me more…

Exactly my point!

Wot?

I’ll keep quiet; let you work it out then…

Ponders: Erm, Duodenal Donald and Bladder Belinda have been bad today… Cathies Cartilage and Peripheral Pete have been playing up for a day or two… Dizzy Dennis and Sock Glide Brenda have had me over at the weekend…

Then, I scratched my head in the wet room, and it bled a lot… but I’ve since found out the Warfarin INR blood count was a little out of range; they’ve changed the dosages now.  Summat happened on Friday, what was it? Oh, yes, The blood pressure sys went up to SYS 205 and DIA 88, and the Pulse had gone up to 97 bpm. I remember that. And having in the right eye (red-eye) subconjunctival haemorrhaging, which cleared up after two three-a-day days of eye drops? Ah, that’s summat I’d forgotten about. I must ask for some more of the eye drops. Colin Cramps has visited me for the last five nights, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion has been bleeding… and wee-weeing is painful, and sprinkle at the moment. A good job is that I’ve got a large stock of PPs (Protection Pants) in-store in the wet room to use. But Harold’s Haemorrhoids are stinging more lately but not bleeding as often as they usually do… Although the change in the INR level might be causing the bleeding on the arm after a blood taking session?

Even so, forgetting things is mayhaps the worst thing, so it’s Dementia, Doreen?

Yes, Alto, are you still there?

Aye, I’m waiting for you to tell me that it’s Dementia Doreen; that is the worst worry you have!

Well, pickle-my-walnuts! How did you know that?

All part of Alto-Inchie plan and design matey! By giving you Doreen to keep you worried, see how all the other ailments fade into the background?

I’m not sure… I suppose there might be summat in wot you say…

Even my being here, like it or not, takes your mind off of the ailments a smidgeon!

Yea… but we always end up disagreeing, which is not good, is it?

Or, is it indeed?

Anyway, hours ago, I asked you why you had a weapon with you. Well, why?

Just showing off what I learned from the Morlocks, Inchcock. Don’t fret; they are not real weapons. I don’t need them…

Har-Har! What you mean is you cannot fire them… you do not have the capability or physical skills needed to shoot them, innit?

No need to get sarkie with me, mate! It’ll only get me going making you feel tiny, a fool, an idiot, incapable of manual sex, mini-cocked, bald, socially unacceptable, pot-bellied, uncouth, smelly, repugnant, despondent, uneducated, lonely, miserable, uncouth, ugly, uncultured, underprivileged,  scatterbrained, and pestiferous. Deserving of condemnation or execration… a totally pathetically inept old, repugnant fart, unwanted and uncared for, a coffin-seeking has been, who…

Has yer finished yet?

For now, yer!

Oh, good. I shall not return the insults, just suggest you go forth and multiply. Hopefully, with you never returning again…

Hahaha! The only reason I’ll not come again will be when you are dead, so keep on wishing, dumbo!

Oh! See yer anon then; in the morning, Alto?

Cheers, cocker!

A much confused Inchcock got ready for bed, did his ablutionalisationing, and climbed into his £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a recliner. And once again sensed the presence of Alto-Inchie, watching him ready for a verbal attack… As if prearranged, they started on a rhyme-a-line verbal battle…

Oh, you back again, come to lickspittle?

See that, no welcome again. Is your nastiness congenital?

Worrever yer want, be quick, cause I need a pittle…

Why can’t you be a little more angelical?

Cause I’m trying to sleep, and along comes you with your prattle…

Oh, that’s nice, to cheer you up I call twice…

Pig-off Alto, you’re the nasty one. Not nice!

Well, me helping you must come at a price!

Sod-off, I’d sooner be visited by lice!

I only came to tell you what day it was, Christ!

I think you are definitely agathokakological!

Your wording is anti-logical…

Tommyrot, you know that I’m sociological…

More like demonological!

Do you know what the words mean you are using?

Well, not all of ’em, but I find it amusing…

Amusing? I cannot allow you any of that, or contentment, entertaining, or smiling!!!

Was not? I’m just asking…

You nitwit, it’s the reason for my being, to cause you pain, confusion and much inconveniencing…

You do that alright, with your constant word-mincing…

Doreen Dementia has got to you again; you’re word misplacing and mispronouncing!

You horrible Alto-Ego, I wish I could give you a trouncing!

Well, that’d be better than us kissing…

Can’t we just calm down and start pleasantly talking?

Nae, you’d only start grumping, moaning and trumping…

That my unwanted, human-hating antisocial Alto would be due to your tormenting!

Well, I have no morals or body, like you who are in a state of decay…

Hey, hey, hey! You’re having a dig at me again. Oh, lackaday!

A?

A? Are you referring to my doomsday!

Yea! When you snuff it into the ether, your body and mind will stray…

No salvation, just nothing forever and a day…

You might try to pray…

But you’re faithless, right or wrong, who is to say?

Your end is nigh, and it makes me sigh; you could be dead by midday! Hahaha!

At least your fatty body will waste away…

Oy, Alto, You are betting sarky and bitchy!

Yes, thank you, it’s just my way…

I suppose I’ve led my life abstemiously…

That’s the spirit; at least your painful, pathetic, sad, pointless existence was led altruistically…

Altruistically? I’ll check that on the online dictionary…

Don’t waste your time Inchcock; your lack of education left you with a mental block…

And what about forgetting things, losing time, dates, days, keys, codes and the odd-sock?

You’ve not had a lot of luck, have yer? Remember when you were conned by the financial Shylock?

Aye, and being shot twice, made redundant three times, heart failure, Mother running away, ending up in the dock?

Duodenal Donald, going deaf, poisoned, being treated with lice, Shock after shock…

There’s a lot of my history you seem to know, Alto? Have you always had access to my memory box?

Oh, yea! From the go, mate. The first word I heard on this assignment was your Mam’s when she said to the midwife, “I don’t want it; throw it in the Trent!”

Cor, you heard it all, so it was true then, but that’s no consolement.

Aye, I saw it all, the fights twixt yer parents, the police collecting Mam for trial and imprisonment…

Oh, and the tin bath hanging outside on the wall in the yard, outside coal house and toilet, you getting bullied at school… yer life then wasn’t exactly suent!

You having your heart broken by Grizelda, playing truant…

Your fumbling attempts with Mavis from the end house when drunk…

Alright! Enough! Imperfect as my memory is, there are some things I’d like to forget, many a stunt…

Now, here you are 70 odd years later, done-in, pissed off, disabled, and languescent…

I remember the happy times when I lived in digs on Wilford Crescent; my life was incandescent!

Me too; I had a bit of a fling with another Alto…

Ah, but yer couldn’t have sex together, though?

Too true, but it was bliss, till she had to go… so sad though…

Why? Let your story flow…

Do you remember a geordie in the digs by the name of Joe?

I certainly do; that was sad. Heart attack, Joe died as he laid a double-six domino…

. Well, my affair of sorts was with Joe’s Alto-Ego…

She was transferred and assigned to another human called Domingo.

Wilford Crescent was good for me, bad for you, but there you go…

Yes, I lost concentration while Alto-Ego Christine was around… my making you miserable and depressed was not so profound…

I never thought of you as being capable of loving anyone…

Yes, to me, from her backside, the sunshine shone!

Which sounds emotional, as she didn’t have one…

What?

Arse!