Inchcocks Tuesday 1st June 2022 – With Ode

Inchies Ode to Failed Wishes

I wanted Mummy to love me for sure…
But crime had caused her departure…
Police caught her in a cottage on the river Nure,
But that was years later, not really a cure…

I wanted to become a competent swimmer…
But I soon discovered that I was scared of water,
I soon got Inchcock as a new nomenclature…
I fought to get into the footy team, the agony I did endure…
But I was useless; I even thought of becoming a friar!

Things were depressing and getting dire…
Then we had a nasty frying pan fire…
Left me scalded, but to the pain, I am no stranger,
The most used word to me was Shurrup! I was a chinwagger…
I once poked myself in the eye with a penny banger!

I try dancing, the Twist and the Conger…
Of course, I can’t do them any longer…
In those days, I was younger and stronger,
And, I was earning some serious wonga,
All of which I’ve spent and have no longer…

Nowadays, my life is a little austerer…
To socialisationing, I’ve become a sightseer,
My ailments often mean that I feel a bit queer…
So when someone relates to me, I hold it dear…
But folks generally keep away, don’t come near!

I became a Headway volunteer…
Tried to give the patients a little cheer
We’d share Monopoly, darts and the odd root beer…
I’ve never been any kind of profiteer…
Eventually, they said I was becoming battier…

Why? was it some form of solastalgia?
I found out it was due to Peripheral Neuralgia,
I was definitely getting a little crochetier…
And my body was getting heftier… fatter,
I decided that this didn’t matter…

With my self-hatred, I felt evermore guiltier…
My calling myself names got much nastier,
If I just accept things, maybe life may come easier…
I even went to speak with the local vicar…
He touched what he shouldn’t. I’m now a nonbeliever!

I still press on, getting wobblier and clumsier,
To avoid depression, I tried to keep myself busier,
Each day I get crappier, creepier, and dizzier…
Even the carers think that I’m getting barmier!
I admit I’m getting poorlier, older and bolshier!

There’s no denying that I’m getting more Clishmaclaver…
Numbers, figures calculation I can no longer figure,
I muse over my fear, praying there may be a cure…
Against the darkness of gloom, I cannot enure!

Even talking to myself, I’m getting more spitefuller…
I can’t reason things sometimes; that makes me mardier…
And my body is aching so, and getting lardier…
My wee-weeing is more frequent and dribblier,
My Haemorrhoids are bloodier and much itchier!

The short term memory is confused, vaguer, muddier…
And used to be such an excellent rememberer!
At this moment, I don’t know if it’s March or September?
Have I put the oven on yet? I’ll have a gander…
No, I’ve not; what else have I missed on my agenda?
Well, I left the hot tap on… frustration and anger!

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

Diary Tuesday 1st June 2022

  After perhaps twenty jump-awakes, I gave up on the 21st or so and rose onto my feet for a wee-wee at 04:10hrs. Grumph!

The leak was free of Pre and After Micturitional Dribbling. Well, that was something! It sort of got me in an up mood.

I trotted off to the wet room to empty and sanitize the wee-wee bucket, and I got the Ablutions done while I was in there. There was only one tiny nick shaving and two dropsies, none of which caused any bother. A good session as well this time.

Got the Blood Pressure and Temperature sorted out. Despite the lousy night’s limited sleep and unending damned shooting awake, I was not in a bad mood, with a jump almost! They are getting worse each night?

SIA 136. DIA 71 and the Pulse were at 77bpm, I think. Cataracts etc., making it hard for me to see. The body temperature was still slightly low at 33.6°c, but not a lot below the 35.0°c target. It might be more explicit when blogging.

I nipped off to make a waste bag-up and got some potatoes in the saucepan to marinate in the fish sauce before boiling later on. I was on form today!

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and the early morning sky caught my good eye. The cloud looked like it would turn into an alien spaceship and burst into view. I must have got the idea from a film that I’d seen? I’ll remember it! Got some photo’s from the SD card onto the computer. And started to do the Ode Tuesday blog.

200 0 0 Porc I’d not gotten far with the odeing, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived from the innards. Trotsky Terence shared control; along with Constipation Konrad; I know it doesn’t make sense. But again, the movement took ages to get started and needed so much effort it was painful with it when it did begin, which wasn’t for a long time. I even got some answers in the crossword! But when things moved, they were cripplingly slow, and the final desperate push exited not rock hard as the first few but messy and gooey? What? I didn’t like that session at all!

Back to the odeing and got it finished at last. Getting ready to review the blog before posting, and ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ Chimed out. As soon as I heard it, I remembered I’d not yet unlocked the door. So, I did!

The look on Carer Richard’s face was with a place in the Tate Gallery! Worth a thousand words. Amongst them would be, “You pillock, you’ve forgotten again to unlock the door!” Hehe!

I was busy on the blogging, but due to a three-hour circumlocution of great vagueness, I can only use the scribbled notes to guess what took place. Here they are as best I can decipher them: Ode… rushing, emailed, Facebooking, WP Comments, WP Reader… Ode for today… Conrad Confusion, mind-blanks… rampant wee-wees…

I checked on the spuds to find that I’d not turned on the heat. Plonker! 

Herbert was not so bad today, not as loud. But still persistent throughout.

Took Strawberries unwanted by Richard to Josie. Got the nosh sorted out. Beer battered chips were great, and new potatoes with BBQ sauce and a ketchup dip pot. Sourdough bread, veg sausages, and tomatoes. Baby banana to follow. 8.2/10.

Still vague-minded, no idea who came… yes, I have; it might have been Cheeky-Charley… Yes, I think it was. Bless her.

Grrreat! I nodded off within ten minutes and stayed that way for three solid hours! Then the jumping-awake started again… Grumph!

Inchcock v Alto – The Suicide Discussion

“Oi, pay attention, Inchcock; it’s your devoted, friendly, happy-go-lucky Alto-Ego here. Bringing you news and a…

Eh, erum… Oh, Sod-Off!

That’s nice, innit! I’ve come to warn you of the explosions in the gut, and all yer do is get antisocial wiv me?

Well, that’s cause I’m sitting here on the Porcelain Throne for the ninth time today, coping with the eruptions mentioned above in my stomach! You’re a little late in telling me…

Don’t get nasty turd-face, no need for insults! Anyway, if you want to nit-pick, I said explosion, not eruption, so there! Haha! I got here as fast as I could…

For an Alto who claims to have been in existence for thousands of years, you are very childish at times, mate… What were you doing in the guts anyway?

Obvious innit?

No!

Why do they keep sending me to thicko-idiots to threaten and get depressed? If yer must know, I was checking yer body for any new signs of ailment, injuries or the likes…

What for… No, no, don’t tell me… It’s so you can worry, annoy and depress me, innit?

Oh, yes, clever clogs! An’ I did it too! See? Your Blood Pressure has shot up, spittle is building in yer throat, and you’re in agony with trots… I bet Haemorrhoid Harold is bleeding as well?

Yea, putting it that way, you’re nearly right...

Owd on… nearly right? How am I not spot-on then, freckle-balls?

It proved yer lied when you first disturbed me.

You coffin-seeker! Lied, ruggish! Everyfing I say is John-Bull and Cosher!…

Yer? Like, “It’s your devoted, friendly, happy-go-lucky Alto-Ego here? Devoted, friendly, you? You are an unwanted blight on me mentality!

Well, thank you very much; I appreciate that. It proves that I’m doing my job successfully and adequately: “Assure at all times that your client is DFF; Depressed, Frustrated, in Pain. For extra Alto points, you human having suicidal tendencies a minimum of once a day…” “Achieving an 80% success rate is required” – Now that’s in the Alto-Ego job description!

So?

I proved I have the credentials for promotion…

How can you get a promotion when I’m yours, and you are mine? What did you call it? Client or human? You’ve already said you’re stuck with me, so what kind of promotion can you get clever clogs?

Gawd, you’re thick as a pancake with hebetude! When you kick the bucket, snuff it, I might be moved on to a politician, bank director or even Putin. Then…

Putin?

Yer that’d be cushty. We had a bit of a drawback with Putin, never been known before, but his Alto-Ego went mad. He’s had to be delisted. No doubt he’ll be moved to some war immigrant in another country. Putin with me by his side could rule the planet… not that it’s got much time left, mind you…

 Has it not? I expected as much...

Crap! You’re too thick to work owt out, Inchcock; you’ve been reading Billum’s blog, ain’t yer…

Well, yes, and he’s dead right...

You’ll be the dead one, Fungle-Knob: although I’ve not worked out the best way to nobble yer yet. I’ve thought about getting into Putin’s brain; just think of it…

Hang on, I’m getting confused here…

Nothing new there, dog-breath…

Can we start again?

Oh, so now yer want to converse with me? You want to make your feeble, befuddled mini-mind up! Dumbo!

You said you can’t hurt your human?

Oh yer, right, but only physically, now mentally, is another matter. And being as you are already halfway to being bonkers, discussions like these will soon tip you over the edge, and hey-presto, you’ll be dead, and I can put my bid in to be sent to Mr Putin, see… easy!

How are you planning to top me then?

I’m glad yer asked me brain-dead. I see there are three possible options.

One: You’ll get a heart attack from hearing the truth from me…

Two: You’ll do the decent thing and swig a litre of chlorinated bleach and drink it with ten Beta-blockers, Warfarins, and a good swig of liquid Codeine. I know they are regulated, but if you can time it for when you just get the prescriptions delivered, I advise you to take the whole packet of Morphine sulfate to be safe. Then stick all the remaining Enoxaparin Injections into your belly. (Not that it will matter where now). Then open the balcony window, make sure no one is below… No, no! Better not dive out of the window; with your eyesight, there may be someone on the pavement to crush when you land, and that’s not fair. Just stick with the bleach, medications and injections; they should do the job efficiently.

Three: you will have one of your tumbles when the neurotransmitter nerve-ends fail, and you fall forwards, trip over yer walking stick on the way down, and crack yer head a good belt on the sharp corner of the end counter… you’ll basically bleed to death, and be found the following day by a Carer, who after clearing out any valuables, will call the paramedics, but you be declared dead in your kitchenette floor, probably around 08:33hrs tomorrow. Oddly enough, your prescription delivery day, Hehehe! Well, you asked, you gormless dunderhead, Hahaha!

Thanks, I did ask, didn’t I? Well, that’s honest enough, Alto. Although I’m a little concerned at your going into great detail on option two? Suicide. It sounds to me like this is your favoured route to my demise?

Well, it’s the least bother for me, and I can shoot off and go Putin-hunting straight away. I’ll make my report first, of course. Should you plump for committing Hari-Kari, I promise I’ll make a good praising report of you and your actions to the Alto-Ego Controller. They don’t get many of those; I think Florence Nightingale was the last human to get one. You could live in fame in your death, mate!

I could live in fame in my death?’ Somehow, that doesn’t sound very attractive to me at the moment…

Ah, that’s cause you are temporarily not frustrated or depressed. That’s thanks to me, see. Bringing good news and advice to you again… Giving you thoughts that grabbed your attention and shooed away destructive emotions. I really hope you go for the choice to autodarwinate. It makes the most sense all around…

 Maybe for you, but not for me…

Whyever not, Numbskull? I’m sure you are going to say that Altos can’t die, so have no idea what it’s like?

  No, but that’s a good point; what’s your answer to your own question then?

Oh, dearie me, my ugly duckling. Is it not so obvious what I was referring to? I shall miss you your ignorance, unknowingness, innocence, duality, absent-mindedness, scepticism, ambivalence, and lack of sophistication when I’ve moved on… thankfully!

No!

Oh, you dense creature! What power I have given you…

Wot power ‘ave you given me?

How many people have the knowledge of when they are going to die?

How do I know? You’re bamboozling me again…

No, Knuckle-Mouth! I’m empowering you. You can pick your timing to take the suicide route, lock the door to prevent any interruptions, and just resign yourself to the nothingness that will follow, a certainty within minutes… minutes of pain, yes. Still, you will be well prepared for that, having led a pain-ridden emotional and physical life, so what does a couple of minutes of further pain mean to you? Nothing! No ailments, no food orders to get wrong, substituted items, nothing to forget or learn, no crime, no emotional topsy-turvy; a state of utter bliss is death! Which is where you will be going, mate – into nothingness – no noisy neighbour above you, no rent, tax or fuel prices rising to fret over.

Inchcock & Alto-Ego, launch into Q&A Odeing Mode…

  You keep harking back to suicide.

That is for you, my Button-Willy, to decide!

But will life never be indemnified?

Not until your death is verified!

Suicide? All my hopes will be pulverised,

Which is better than being lobotomised!

My friends will miss me, far and wide…

Friends, you? Now your telling porky-pies!

This conversation is like Morecome and Wise!

Death can be a pleasure, do you realise?

I’m not so sure… it’s a sacrifice?

In death, there’ll be no one who vilifies?

My ailment, all gone, pain defies…

Freedom, nothing left to visualise!

So, Covid has gone; no need to immunise?

You must get your thoughts strategised!

The thought of nothing does tantalise…

Alto sensed Inchcocks resistance to suicide weakening…

That’s the spirit, Inchcock, my old fruit…

Hold a minute, just wait...

Indeed, my old cocker, you take your time…

Take me time? What in or at?

Choosing which way to die…

I’m not sure how we got into discussing suicide?

Well, you wanted to know the best way to do it.

I did?

Yes, plan B you went for…

Plan B?

Yes, you decided you’ll do the decent thing and swig a litre of chlorinated bleach and drink it with ten Beta-blockers, Warfarins, and a good swig of liquid Codeine. (I know they are regulated, but if you can time it for when you just get the prescriptions delivered, you to take the whole packet of Morphine sulfate to be safe.) Then stick all the remaining Enoxaparin Injections into your belly.

Are you sure I chose this way and agreed?

Course you did Snot-Head, and it makes common sense, my friend! And once you’ve succeeded in suiciding, there’ll be no more painful battles with Trotsky Terence or Constipation Konrad! Now, this must be worth topping yourself for?

You really thought I was going to do it, didn’t you?

Well, yes! Are you not going to?

Too bloody true I ain’t going to.

Gragnangles! But I’ll be back!

Inchcock on the Throne realised Alto had truly flit…
He finished his evacuation, messy, but just a bit,
Pondered over suicide, blaming Alt-Inchie, the shit!
Putting it into my mind, a disgusting gambit!

All a part of Alto & Inchies’ mutual brinksmanship…
A strange sort of unwanted mental partnership,
Full of insults, bullying and unsportsmanship,
Alto’s getting nasty, pretending to be a prophet?

If he expects Gerry to top himself, there’s a blip…
Even suggesting it shows Alto’s unsportsmanship,
Suicide? No, he’d instead favour the opposite,
Even living with ailments and a financial deficit!

More critical now, Harold’s Haemorrhoids do bleed,
He cleans things, ointmentates, & takes some hempseed,
It’ll be painful; he mustn’t hesitate and proceed…
Agonisingly he did, then he wee-wee’d…

He turned his attention to what to self-feed,
From his fridge and freezer, he took a swede…
Leeks, mushrooms, tomatoes and bread, just a snead,
Prepped and got them cooking; it smelt good indeed.

Off to the wet room. where he passed wind and pee’d,
Settled in his recliner, he nodded off; he was so pleased,
Woke two hours later, surprised yet frustrated…
At the smell of burnt food, he recognised!

All his vegetables had been pureed!
Burnt potatoes, uneatable, he had to concede…
A Whoopsiedangleplop, he just didn’t need…
He cleaned the mess to the bucket he pee’d!

The meal he ate for dinner was not one of his best…
A can of peas, an out-of-date vegetarian duck breast,
The whole meal went in the bin, top join the rest…
Which annoyed him, and he began to get stressed!

Thought-Storms stopped him from getting to sleep…
His life, he began to despise and threap…
Suicide? Not a failure living, even in this muckheap…
His life is not good, but living he wants to keep,

Though he passes evacuations, the liquid then concrete…
Has cataracts, is deaf, tumbles over, and has terrible feet…
There are times when he finds life semi-sweet,
Screw Alto; his life is not yet over or complete!

He vows to ignore Alto-Ego, on his next visit…
Alto’s intrusions, he’ll try his best to prohibit…
He belched; the extruding wind tasted like horseshit,
Inchcock pondered, is it me or Alto, that’s the eejit?

Dizzy Dennis called; his head felt as if it was in orbit…
Thoughts coming so fast, he can’t cope, dagnabit!
He thinks this is becoming a nightly habit…
And he had Alto to return, the nasty dipshit!

But this time, Inchcock was determined, not frit…
He decided to keep up his flagging spirit…
Amidst words like Grongletits and Gawdammit!
He got up and this Ode he writ…
Hoping Alto stays in his pit!

Part of Inchcocks Make Them Laugh Series

Inchcock Today: Thursday 28th April 2022

Thursday 28th April 2022

I thought, but I was wrong!

After a terrible, almost sleepless night, I burst into life with a jump, and I soon realised Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was bleeding, I wanted a wee-wee, and the innards were rumbling away something awful. I thought this was a fine kettle of fish to greet the day… Worse was to come…

As I climbed out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously hideously beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and got to my feet to catch my balance – I missed it, for it wasn’t there, and lurched backwards into the chair.

Leaving myself in a bit of a pickle… I needed the wee-wee, could feel the warm wetness in the PPs from the lesion, and there I was, struggling to get back up from the sharp landing on my bum, and felt Harold Haemorrhoids bleeding. Now as well! I fumbled out of the recliner again, the balance was still wrong, I got Metal Mickey (the three-pronged walking stick) and made way ASAP to the wet room. Naughty foul language was being muttered en route! Took a reluctant sprinkly wee-wee first.

Heck of a long job, but I cleaned things up, medicated Harold’s Haemorrhoids with Germoloid ointment, and used Daktacort cream on Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. The most painful of all the ailments to clean and medicate! Argh! But it has to be done.

How often it happens, the moment the piles have been cleaned and ointmentated, the need for Porcelain Throne follows. Grrr!

It’s a good job that I got up early all the same. Because the evacuation was the same as yesterday, under the control of Constipation Konrad! Solid, unwilling, and a giant torpedo when it eventually came out! . I set too on the crossword and finished it ultimately. T’was nothing to a man of my calibre! I finished one in 1972 as well… Mind you, I sat there for over an hour in hopes that the half-in, half-out situation with the rear end would flow again. Humph!

I decided to get the ablutions done as I was already in there. Mind you too early for a shower; the noise would wake the late sleepers. Things felt a bit better after that.

The shaving left me with.. wait for it… just one teeny-weeny cut. Another !

I got dressed in the day clothes. Then got the new slippers out of the packing bag. It took me a while to get them back into a shoe shape, suffice for me to get them on the feet. Warm, comfortable, cheap, they’ll do for me. Chinese made, not surprisingly – the stitching had started to split already, after three minutes of use.

Then started updating the Wednesday blog. I made a brew of Glengettie tea, tasty! But the balance let me down a little later when I visited the bucket for my fourth wee-wee, I don’t know how I did it, I held onto the bucket as I fell to the ground on one knee, without having any spillages?

MedPhorpain I got the Phorpain gel out, and I gave the knee a good massage and ointmented it. Cleared things up, emptied, cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got back to the blog updating, it’ll be a long job, and the shakes were back again. In fact, I was having a double-visit from Shaking Shaun and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, as carer Richard arrived. I think it fritted him for a second. It did me, and I’m used to them. Hahaha!

Ricard pointed out that I was swaying somewhat when I moved, and Metal Mickey was shaking a bit in use. Within minutes of him mentioning it, things improved greatly shaking-wise. I told Richard he should come more often to see me, you bring good luck with you. The lad looked tired again, but not as bad as yesterday. Then I found he was having a day off tomorrow. In fact, he wasn’t working again until Monday, I think he said. Nice chap, I wish I could do more for him. Still, treated him to some bits before he went, I insisted.

I wished him a good sleep, and I closed the door as Richard took out the waste bags, and as I turned to go down the hallway, the balance went out of sync… But let’s face it, it couldn’t have happened in a better place for me! I used both walls as the stick fell, and it was dead easy, too, with the hallway being so narrow! No injuries whatsoever. I brushed my chin against the wall, but no hassle. I felt a little chuffed with myself, smug!

Back to the updating of the blog. What a state I got myself into. I spent hours trying to get the photographs on the system, the card-reader was laughing at me. He even teased me sometimes, my part-loading the photos so I could see some of them, then freezing and coming up with messages “Please put a disc in drive-F. Then I had to wait several times when this repeated;y happened, cause it would not let me close anything. I just had to wait until it closed down of its own accord? Grumph!

Gone lunchtime by the time I got some loaded to use, and I was hours behind with everything else!

Then I checked the Amazon tracker, as the Morrison delivery via Amazon arrived. The driver rang me, but I couldn’t hear anything he was saying, but recognised the voice all the same, cause when he came months ago he left the bags downstairs for me. I said I’d go down, but by the time I got to the front lobby door the shakes were back, no problem with the balance, but Peripheral Neuropathy Pete was trying to give me forced leg dance again… I might have scared the Asian driver a bit, with my jerking antics. Hehehe!  Anyway, although I had no idea what he was saying to me, his facial expressions showed he would not let me carry anything, and we made out way back up to the flat. He took the parcels and put them in the kitchenette for me. Bless him. I started to sort out the fodder. Only a few things for the freezer. Fries, leeks and waffle bites…

Which I can’t say that I can remember ordering… the waffles I mean? Got the frozen bits in the freezer, (it seemed a logical thing to do at the time, Hehe!) Then sorted the items for the fridge, which ended up rather full.

I’d overdone the desserts, and a box of cakes I ordered, apparently, I did not even like. There were no flowers available for Jenny and Francis’ treats, most annoying. But they did send the strawberries for them.

The cupboard foods had a wonderful surprise for me, the ‘Savers’ generic label Chilli Con Carnie was back in stock, not only that, they allowed me to buy five cans!!! This is my favourite of all the brands of chilli that I’ve tried. Soya pieces in place of meat, and tons of beans, all seasoned to my likes. Gorgeous flavour! Now I have something to live for! Hehehe!

I made up two bags on nibbles, sorry about not getting any daffodils for them. Cleaned up from the sorting things out. Took the bags of waste with me, and the bags on the walker, and delivered them. You wouldn’t believe how long it took in the lifts; when I wanted to down others were going up, so I waited for the next lift I don’t know how many times, and visa-versa when I wanted to get back up. No complaints, at least Morrisons had some strawberries for the gals, and I got my beloved cans of chilli again!

I dropped off the waste bag down the chute and made my way back to the flat. During which it dawned on me how few times in the last hours, I’ve needed a wee-wee? Also, the balance had improved… it’s a funny old life!

By the time I got back into the apartment, I realised what time it was. four PM! 16:00hrs! Late afternoon, and I had not even started on this blog yet! Everything takes so much longer to get done nowadays.

I got the blood pressure and temperature taken. While I remembered that it hadn’t been done yet.

Also, I was beginning to worry that I’d forgotten something that had to be done, or whatever today?

Then,  I noticed as I got the things that I needed for the Health Checks gathered together, how leathery the skin looked n my hands… I suppose it should be expected really at my age. Still, I’ve kept onto my face dimples. Hahaha!

Another set of encouraging results today! The body temperature was almost spot-on the ideal target of 35°c. Can’t moan about these figures at all, never had them any better!

The Blood Pressure returns via the sphygmomanometer were good yet again! Creeping back up a little, maybe? Compared to last week end’s Sys of 208, it shot down to 137, then 142, 144, now 147. But it will settle again, I’m sure… Did I just say that? Har-har, we’ll see.

I spent many hours on this blog. The evening carer is due soon, too. I’ve not had owt to eat yer as well! Or should that be either?

I tried to reply to some WP comments. Most successfully, a few failed? I’ve been trying to reply to Tim Price’s comment on Rescued photographs & diary. But keep getting the red box ‘Comment Failed! – try again’ – which I have many times. Well, Tim below is my failed reply:

The best for ages, Tim, well pleased. Not really my choice of photos, Tim… there are the card readers choice, he’s taken to stopping so many from loading, seemingly at random. I need help here. Hahaha!
Cheers, TTFNski.

Also, I cannot answer my beloved petal Lisa. I’ll try again in the morning. Is it WP? The Computer? Me? Or a combination of all three?

Better get some nosh sorted out, then. Got the beans and veggieburgers served up. I took a photo, but the card reader will not let me get at it.

Evening Care called, but I was not in a good condition, and I was confused when she arrived. No recollection of much. Remember seeing her off and locking the door, as she took the waste bag with her.

Sweet Morpheus resistant.

Inchcock: Sunday 27th February 2022

Inchcocks Morning Ode…

There are some things of interest, some nostalgic…
I wish to admit to and share on this Samstag,
Like my being an insomniac…
But not a kleptomaniac…
My ailments ensure I move about, looking like a maniac!
My stomach doesn’t look like a sixpack…
The flesh wobbles, flails about, and bounces back…
This is not my only physical drawback…
Cateracted eyes are going; I can just see a haystack!
The hearing is fading, teeth covered in plaque…
Medical bother, I can’t get to see the quack,
My hobbling pace is down to that of a lollygag!
When Jillie came yesterday, she brought me a snack…
Did I mention it? To me, she’s an aphrodisiac! 💘

Inchcock: Sunday 27th February 2022

Gobsmacking! I woke up at 06:40hrs, having had an uninterrupted straight six hours of kip! At last! I think the Hemp capsules, just one at night, must be working! We’ll see!

The fight to free my substantially flabbier and grossly larger-stomached body from the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner; went so smoothly! No Dizzy Dennis’s antics, Cartilage Cathy was hardly any hassle at all, and no toe-stubbing. Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, were all calm!!! I realised this may be bluff from the body, so I delayed going into a Smug-Mode!

As I was hobbling into the kitchen and working out how long I’d been asleep, I cracked the right shoulder against the door frame! The glasses came off, I dropped the empty bottle I was going to refill! Of course, I took in all in good spirits. After respectaclising myself and cleaning up the mess, and laughed away as I got into the kitchenette. Ahem!

I realised it was Sunday (I usually work these things out within an hour or so of waking up, you know). So, I got all the food and implements needed for Prepping Josie’s chilli stew. Doing pork for her today, for a change. Chopped the veg and added it to the saucepan with the seasonings.

As I rinsed out the lemon washing up liquid bottle before putting it in the waste bag, the bubbles went everywhere, including up in the air! Got back and reran the tap, but it was no good; the suds had died a death. Shame! Like lightning… well, I hobbled as fast as I could and got the Canon to photograph this min-phenomenon.

I got on the computer to finish off yesterday’s blog. The door chime chimed, and I thought it might be the Amazon man with the belated bleach, but it wasn’t.

It was the nippy, perky, Cheeky Charley Carer. Who told me off for spelling her name wrong. She got the medications sorted out, and we had a little nattering session. During which she took a selfie with the Canon, of both of us! Chose her choice of treats (Back of photo), and off she went, taking the waste bags with her. ♥ You just can’t help liking her!

Ten minutes later, ♫Oh Susana ♫ chimed again. It was the food from J Sainsbury’s. The chap took the bags through to the kitchen for me; that was a nice gesture. As he left, he mentioned that I did not look too good. Oh, I felt okay? The first thing I did was get the potatoes in a cool fark place. See the potatoes above? Sainsbury’s new slogan, Helping everyone eat better, Does not ring true, does it! They also had only one day’s life on Strawberrys and two on the yellow tomatoes. One substitute and two unavailable items;  Which really helps the new slogan get across, dunnit? ‘Sainsbury’s, Helping everyone eat better‘ Crap!

The food cupboard had room left in them both? And the fridge was looking most positively sparse! Ring-pulls on the peas and chilli were no longer on the cans.

No fresh garden peas are available, along with lemon cheesecakes. And the baked cheese curls were loose in the box, with no wrapping!

I wonder which overpaid dimwit came up with this Catchphrase-Motto’? Hogwash! Proof of J Sainsbury’s commitment to their new logo.

Got on with updating the Saturday blog via what bits I could remember and the scrawl on the notepad. I kept checking on the cooking meal for Josie, in between wee-weeing and blog working.

The intercom buzzed, and I thought the Amazon bleach had arrived, even though their Email said it would be coming twixt 15:00>18:00hrs. But I could see no one on the lobby camera? Mmm?

Eventually, I got the blog almost finished, then realised the time, and had to get the Josie-meal readied and served. So, I did! I’d made far too much. So I put another serving in the grey-lidded pot, so she can have another nibble later on. I have to say, this pork one did taste good when I tried a spoonful! Added the extra tidbits; The G&T, Yorkie bar, Cadbury’s chocolate mini rolls, cheese discs, a pot of Devon custard, and two tiny pots of pineapple jelly desserts. Then in a bid to get it to her before it lost its heat, I plodded out into the lobby and rang her bell. She soon answered the door, making her usual perusal of the meal, asking what is it this week then?

I told her I’d put pork instead of beef in the Chilli-stew this time. And again, she told me I’d have her looking like Betty Bunter. Can anyone remember the Betty Bunter character? I’m sure she was in a comic in the ’50s. The comic title was June! The lads had Billy Bunter and the gals Betty Bunter… not sure I can remember the comic’s name. I’ll have a look on the web for Betty Bunter later. Which I did, here she is! It was Bessie Bunter!

I got back to the flat and got all the washing up done. Then posted the blog off. Visited Facebook, WordPress Reader, WP Comments… all between taking wee-wees, of course. Tsk!

16:40hrs: The Amazon box of bleach arrived. As the deliveryman plonked it on the floor through the door – I thought… this is poor! I immediately had a bit of a panic-station, DEFCON-two warning come over me! I didn’t like the idea of the label being on the side of the box. Got it into the kitchenette and used the sharp knife to carefully open it. It was apparent that every bottle had leaked! Good job; it was crap bleach; it had only worked its way through the inner box. I had a bit of a kerfuffle as I got the bottles from the decaying box and into the sink. Where I checked each one and cleaned it with paper towels.

Having not long gotten over J Sainsbury’s insulting treatment, now it was Amazon’s turn to insult me. Some of the bottles weighed far less than the others; obviously, they had spewed out more bleach. Grumph!

I got on with cleaning and drying them, putting each one in the rectangular bowl, in case they leaked again later; at least the escaping bleach should be contained to some degree… I hope!

Francis

I nipped the Strawberries down to Francis’ apartment. I almost forgot about taking them for her this week. Slipped her a cheese twist pastry as well. I hope she likes the cheese twists… ♫ Come on let’s twist again, Like we did last summer, come on… ♫

Been such a busy day for me in some ways. Good job, I remembered, cause they were delivered with one-day shelf-life left on them by J Sainsbury’s! Oh yes… How does it go? ‘Sainsbury’s, Helping everyone eat better.’

Made a long-awaited start on this blog, and an hour or so later, the tune of ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chirped up. I was so glad that Carer Julie came to see to tend to me.

Julie kindly listened to me moaning about the Sainsbury’s and Amazon deliveries. She even checked the bottles to see they were safe. She really is an Angel to me. America’s loss, and aged decrepit Nottinghamians gain. 💗

The Sherwood sunset was not as dramatic as it has been these last few nights, but still a wonderful Mother nature sight to see.

The blogging was slow-going yet again. I surrendered to the eyelids’ demands and gave up. I’ll continue in the morning. Hopefully, Hahaha!

Inchcock Today: Diary A fresh of breath air!

Inchcock Today

Liaringly A Super Day

Tuesday 22nd February 2020

Well, yer see… it’s not easy… is it? Life

03:20hrs: Up for a wee, knocked over my cold cup of tea, said summat like, “Well blow me”, and got the computer on. Concentrated on getting yesterday’s blog finished off.

Which, amazingly, without any interruptions, apart from needing a few leaks, I’d got done by 05:00hrs. And decided to get the ablutions sorted out before any Carer came calling.

05;10hrs: A bit of clunking from the flat above. I made my way to get the clothes and off into the wet room.

Off, full of vim, and whistling, to do the ablutioning,
A mock-contentment was absolutely blossoming!
Shaving with only the one little cutting…
Fair enough, Cartilage Kathy was twinging…
Botherless dressing and nappy changing…
I felt as if I was only fortysomething!
Doing fine no Whoopsies or dingdonging,
Nowt that was alarming or discouraging,
Did all, mostly painless medicationalisationing!

Freshened up, for the after-shave I was foraging…
The sink suddenly made a lot of guggling?
I checked to make sure I’d not left the sink plug in,
Smug-Mode Adopted, no head or shoulder-banging,
There really was no depression or self-admonishing,
As the after-shave, on my face, I was sploshing…
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete started prancing…
The right leg Schuhplattler flailing dancing…
I ended up with a thud, bottom on the hard floor,

My reaction was whimperingly poor,
The ankle, knee and bum were sore!
Getting back up took time, for sure,
Phorpained the knee and bum some more…
It might ease the pain, but it’s not a cure…
I can imagine myself limping forever!

I limped with two sticks (Literally) back to the kitchen, kettle on, went for a wee-wee, washed the dandies, took a Codeine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. Had yet another wee-wee and got back on the computer.

Spent hours and hours on creating the Snippets blog.

I went out to take a photo of the end car park. But got distracted… I do that a lot, you know. Bits of whatever it was were falling on my head. They were coming from the crumbling ceiling inside the balcony! A bit worrying that was! Cracking plaster and paint, and holes appearing above the sliding doorway! I must inform ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. See if she can have a decker and what she thinks about it.

It’s a little reminiscent of living in the old house in Carrington. Although that was built in 1909, these flats were modernised in 2019. They both had about the same amount of cracks in the roof. Hahaha!

Many hours were spent on blogging. It’s not easy at all since the eyes started going, and it doesn’t help with Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley giving me daily problems. Humph!

The wee-weeing frequency had died down. I got the potatoes in the slow-cooker and tended to the medical checks belatedly.

Blood Pressure was down nicely, but:

  I was wrapping the tubing around the casing to replace the sphygmomanometer, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete gave me a little jerking session. The BP machine ended up hitting the radiator and under the desk on the floor. I got the precious picker-upperer and retrieved it. I was going to try it then, but the need for another wee-wee arrived, and thanks to Vascular Dementia Doreen, I forgot all about it. Now I hope it still works on the following readings.

A more significant concern then – the body temperature was showing as 33.7°c! Well below the minimum of 35. I tried the ear thermometer, which showed up as ‘Low’. Is it me doing it wrong, machine kaputt? I just don’t know!

Finally, I completed the ‘Local Snippets’ blog and got it sent off. Facebooked, WP comments and on the WordPress Reader.

Cleaner Esther did it again… she came in without ringing the chime, and naturally, I did not hear her until she started giving some stick for being overweight. She asked if I had any laundry, boy did I! Then he moaned about me using Meridian, who, after the last disgusting state of my returned washing, crammed into the bag, creased… I would like to stop paying for and using. It shows great disrespect, I think.

Off Esther went to the laundry room, talking all the time as she walked away from me. I’ve not the foggiest idea what she was saying.

Pressed on with the template for this blog in the morning for about an hour. Then I got the meal prepping done.

Esther returned, forever talking and telling me off. She’s such a character; bless her. You’ve got like her, despite her aggressiveness. I found I was using the wrong hoover. I was too fat and should wear the shirts that “You have spilt bleach on!” “Wear them at night only!” So, I did last night. Hehehe! There were many other rollicking, but thank heavens she spat them out while in the other room, and I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Then, the Carer did the same as Esther and came in without alerting me with the door-chime. I was in the kitchen at the sink straining the garden peas; I think it was Carer Charlie or Kiya. But that’s only a guess. Dementia Doreen, again! She got the medicines sorted in no time.

Not one of my better efforts, for more than one reason. Here they are: I made far too much

① I made far too much. ② The J Sainsbury short-dated garden peas tasted puckingly bad, and most were left untouched. ③ The potatoes were tasteless! ④ The bacon was soggy and too fat! However, the sausages, tomatoes, Sourdough bread, banana (Oh, I remember now, Esther also told me that bananas are too fattening for me to eat – well, she cares… Haha!), and mandarins in orange juice were all good! Overall, my Taste Rating was 5/10. Humph!

The precious, kind Carer Julie called. We had a natter after sorting the prescriptions out. What an Angel ♥. She said hello to Billum and HRH, hoping the tiny leaflets were liked. Who I hope reads this. ♥

As I was sulking and taking the things into the kitchen to be washed, the sunset was beautiful!

I put the tray down and got the camera.

The top shot I took from the door as I reentered the kitchenette.

I opened the window to take this one on the left for the next two. Slightly zoomed in.

So peaceful and serene. I had to force myself to come away… although I did have some encouragement by needing yet another wee-wee. And I’d not been drinking much tea! Bootiful!

I got down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. And pencilled this little ditty on the notepad pages.

Mother Nature’s Sunset

Looking at these sunsets, was it in a dream?
Beauty, peace, nature so pristine!
Sweeter than just a sunbeam…
Even with eyesight, not overly keen…
I wished the view was on a touchscreen…
You’ll never see such warmth on a screen,
Views magnificent, nothing in between…
Mother Nature doeth capture my esteem,
That’s why butter is better than margarine!

I Fank You!

Intense Inchy: Wednesday 17th March 2021 Diary

INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 17th March 2021

Swahili: Jumatano Tarehe 17 Machi 2021

01:20hrs: Blimus! I stirred back into imitation misery and life, and I realised I’d just had over five-hours in the nurturing arms of Sweet Morpheus! Gadzooks! Plus, I had a short nodding-off yesterday afternoon. Involuntarily, though! The need for a wee-wee developed, so I was out of the recliner and standing with my balance caught in no time?

I wandered over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket). And worra shock, it was a wee-wee of the LPP (Long-Powerful-Persistent) type, and with no PM (Pre-Micturitional) or CM (Cessational Micturitional) dribbling.

Things seem to have altered in the wee-wee stakes suddenly? The NHS colour chart was consulted, and I was dehydrated again, but down to level four! Yippy! But the wee-weeing carried on all morning, repeatedly, and in the same mode. I got a little irritated at times with demanding needs, but the urge for a wee-wee cometh so often, and I have to goeth! Haha!

Then I got the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrive, so off I limped to the wet room. A pungent, Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation that needed a lot of cleaning up afterwards again. Of me and the Porcelain!

As you can see by the time on the travel clock om the cistern top, I’d only been up for about ten minutes, three wee-wees already.

Then, as I was asking, I needed yet another leak! Gotten Himmel!

To the front room, and I got on with the sphygmomanometerisationing, with the Boot’s BP machine. SYS 148. DIA 81 and PULSE showing as 83bpm. Which is better than many days have been the March up to now. Not too bad at all!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured contactless thermometer preferred a reading of 36.9°c – 96.9°f. Perhaps a smidge high, but maybe not. I asked Mr Google and got this answer: 97°F (36.1°C) to 99°F (37.2°C).

I updated the Excel NHS record log with the details. Looking much improved on a week ago. This is the third day that I’ve got access to Excel, and there was no Updating unavailable message coming on the screen.

I wonder if Microsoft’s owner is related to Mike Fries, the man who bought Virgin Media and renamed it as Liberty-Global Virgin Media, and then proceeded to dismantle any semblance of trust, ability or compassion that was left in the business?

You certainly have to admire his skill in running the crap internet service and spending a fortune on advertising lies about it being reliable, don’t you? Fair enough, he perhaps has no idea what he’s doing. But being educated in a Wesleyan Business School and now paid a $19m salary, plus expenses and compensation totalling: Fries’ cash compensation of $8.5 million, was not the highest on the list. Fries’ stocks and options awards — valued at $79.2 million in stock and $24.2 million in options — helped lift Fries to the top salary-wise. Fries also received a $5 million sign-on bonus…

So, it’s no surprise that with the crappiest service and a cunning system installed that blocks anyone from leaving their contract – have you ever heard of anyone who left them? It’s no wonder the overpaid, under-capable git who only makes any profit for Liberty-Gold on paper! And installs hatred in his customers for the intermittent failure of connection of the internet and his contempt shown for them. However, fair does; all the other suppliers are bad as well. I did manage to leave BT when I moved into the flats here, to Virgin, who were then bought out by Liberty-Global – My bad luck! I waffled a bit there, sorry!

I got the Tuesday blog updated, between wee-wees (they were getting longer and more fierce now!) And within four hours I’d got it finished. Flibbledonkackles! Pinterested some snaps, went on the WordPress Reader, not much on again today, but what was sent, was top quality. I read and replied to some comments, then did a couple of graphics on CorelDraw. Made a brew, had a wee-wee and was just about to start on this Diary, and I realised I had not done the ablutions yet.

Gulped down the tea, and off to the wet room. A decent session to start with, the usual dropsies, of course. Only two nicks. tiny ones, shaving, and the ankle and feet were looking fine as I got ready to go in the shower. The long toenails were a bit bothersome.

I really enjoyed the showering today and spent ages in there with the cloth and loofah. I used the mint & cucumber shower gel but was not too keen on the scent. Just as well that I dropped the bottle in lost it all down the drain when it shattered! Hehe!

Dried off, and did the medicationing without any hassle. No socks put on, I’m sure I heard a groan from Sock-Glide-Glenda (Hahaha!)

Got the kettle on, and back to the computer and rebooted it.

The landline rang. It was Sister Jane, telling me she hadn’t received the Inchcock Today diary link? I was sure I’d sent it – I mean; as if a man of my calibre and dedication would forget to! Huh! Ahem! I thanked her for worrying and I checked the Emails…

What a nitwit, dumbhead, pillock, schmuck, numskull, cretin, schlemiel, flibbertigibbet, dope and senile twit,  I am! I rang Jane back to tell her I’d now sent it… I believe my red-face may have somehow seeped through the telephone cable. She was very very calm with me. Hahaha! Lovely of her to check on me though wasn’t it. ♥

Thought! I was born years too early yer know. If mankind survives a few more years, I can see people, not the commoners, mind, getting a memory transplant on the NHS… not that’s doomed innit? You’ll probably be able to get a decent second-hand one. Possibly, around the year 2065, you can get a taxi-drivers memory box, who died of Covid-1219, reconditioned and fitted for about £2.500m in a few years of paying back for Brexit? Hehe!

My mind wandered on to my epicurean-gastronomical fancies. (Food!) So much fodder to feed on at the moment. I dithered, dillied and dallied, changed my mind a good few times… Went for a wee-wee, washed and returned, and started musing over the available foods in the fridge, and there were many to pick from, all I had to do, was decide which one to have… Mmm!

Decisiveness, emphaticalness and obdurateness used to be my strong points in the old days when I was alive, you know. Not now, though! So many different permutations of the meal to make, came to mind; then left it, pretty blank as well! Humph!

Ah. I’ve just remembered, the writing pads should be arriving today, from Amazon. Of course, I only said that for effect, as if I would forget anything, Hahahahaha! Ahem! I reckon my guess is going to be a long way off! I’ll no made anything to eat until delivery has arrived, whenever that is. I tried to ignore the hunger. Oh, I am good… what for, is another question!

I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana and took the evening medications.

The landline rang out, it was a recorded message, obviously a con-job, telling me that Amazon Prime will be taking £79 from my account, and if I wanted to cancel, I had to ring this number… I rang off. Maybe another Nigerian scam? I opened the YourArea Emagazine for Sherwood, I must do something to avoid falling asleep and miss the Amazon package.

A bit of good news on the Covid-19 front! The figures for new cases in Nottingham are down by 22.5% on the previous seven day period!

.

Blow me, the next article telling of a school in the Sherwood area, where six children and thee members of staff have tested positive!.

Good heavens, what next will I come across?

Now new variants of Covid from the Pillillines have been found in Nottingham!

I made a brew of Glengettie, then I took the afternoon medications.

Checked the Amazon tracker, it was in the same place on the graph. Oh dearie me! But never mind, eh?

So tired now, done in mentally not physically… yet. Hehehe!

My ETA guesses at the arrival for the notepad order from Amazon, (16:00hrs) is fast approaching.

I got some mini-Dagwood sarnies made up, in the bowl covered it with foil, but there was no room for it to go in the fridge until the parcel arrives. I didn’t work or think that out, did I? Had a look at the tracker on Amazon. New ETA on it now.

I’m so tired and so hungry. Must stay awake! Aha, the delivery arrived at 17:50hrs.

Got the nosh sorted. 3Wed28

No idea what I’m doing now (Thurday morning) WorPredd have changed things around, and I’m f’ing lost! Sod this!

Can’t edit photos as before, edit and view modes different – Blocks appearing

Sod it!

Ho do I add… never mind, this is my last diary – Thank You WordPress! I’ll try once again, but I’m terribly confused
Too much to take in, so I leaving.

Impudicity-Inchy, Thursday 11th March 2021, Diary

♥ TFZers – What are they up to, though? Hehehe! ♥


INCHCOCK TODAY

Thursday 11th March 2021

Norwegian: Torsdag 11 Mars 2021

23:40hrs: I stirred, after a decent five-hours of undisturbed sleep, in need of an urgent wee-wee. I disentangled my elephantine over-wobbly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner, and stood up to catch my balance…

Neuropathy Pete’s adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a concise but brutal flailing performance. Luckily before I’d hobbled away from the recliner, which I sat down on again post-haste. No harm was done; I was back up and wee-weeing in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) within two minutes. The evacuation was of the WUNT (Weak-Unwilling-Negligible-Trickling) style.

I got the Health Checks done, starting with the BP Sphygmomanometer, And another decent-looking set of results this morning. SYS 144, DIA 72, and the PULSE down to only 82!

The contactless thermometer was in the green, and it read 36.8°c – 98.24°f, much better than late!

I went to open Microsoft Excel to update the recordings, but once again, it was updating ‘Office’ and would not allow me access to the programme. Cracklepackers!

I had a devil of a job in updating the Wednesday Diary. So many late photos yesterday to old and sort before even starting on updating the wordage! SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up and making progression even slower than ever. A little annoying! However, I eventually got it finished and treble checked, find endless errors to put right. Tsk! I’ve probably missed some of them; sorry about that if I have. I had a weak wee-wee.

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea and then posted-off the blog. Pinterested a couple of snaps. Spent a few minutes getting this block started and went on Facebooking catch-up.

Perused the Facebook reader. Then read and replied to some WordPress comments. And got rid of another weak wee-wee. And for the first time in 30hrs+, the need for the Porcelain Throne showed up. Off to the wet room. I’ll see how things pan-out, then I can decide whether to take another of the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets or not.

It felt strange in my not hurrying to the toilet for once. I thought things would be tighter, and they were, but still gooey. Not bleeding, and only a small evacuation, which was black in colour? As usual, my habit of dithering over choice and decision making was rampant, and I could not tell if I needed another Numark tablet or not!

On the way back to the computer, Cathy Cartilage joined in the pain giving ailment list. Gawd, she was giving it to me!

I did some WP Comments answering. And went on to the WordPress Reader section.

The howling wind seemed to be getting louder now. Still, it masks the ‘World Wide Hum’ a bit. I’ve never known it so bad since I moved here? I bet it wakes some poor soul up!

I got dirted again when I put the kettle on and did some handwashing. Some cotton long and short socks and the made in Myanmar (Burmese), too small to fit me, grey zip-up jacket. Done, wrung, and hung to dry above the kitchen sink.

Another summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I ambled along to the wet room. (Well, the toilet was in there, so it seemed a logical move) Hahaha! Again, as the first visit not long ago, the evacuation was only a small, once, but far messier than the last one was!

At least this helped me make my mind up to make a brew of Glengettie and take the morning medications with an added Numark anti-diarrhorea tablet.

I had a look at the leg ulcer. I’d gained some blotch marks around the ankle, and the old wound looked like it might be flaring up again? Mmm?

I got back and made a brew and took the medications. As I was taking them, it sounded like the ‘Hum’ and the howling winds were in competition to be the loudest. It was not helping my concentration at all.

Ablutions tackled:

As I got stripped, I could see that the ankle looked much betterer than earlier? Then realised I was using the Kodak camera; that’s why things looked brighter. I put the Kodak camera away and used the Canon for a while after this.

The session went very well, indeed! The dropsies added up to about eighteen/twenty, I reckon. But no tumbles, no dizzies or bleeding either! Shaving produced not a single nick! No falling or injuries during and dressing! The medicationing was fine! Mind you, because of this good luck, I didn’t put any socks on. (I had too later; when it got so much colder!) 

All done, I got the missed socks from yesterday, hand-washed, and hung.

I moved the earlier hand-washed grey jumper onto the serving tray and placed it near the kitchen wall heater. I must keep checking it for safety. As it is not really dry enough yet.

Then I made up some black waste bags and a recycling one and got them in the walker-guide box.

I trundled off into the foyer and out to the lift lobby and down to the chute room. The first bag  I got out of the box looked a little too large, I squashed best I could, and it went down with no trouble at all, as did the other bags. I’m was in danger of a Smug-Mode coming on here. Hehehe!

Back to the flat and checked the Amazon tracker. The pill pots weren’t even out for delivery yet; no, it looks like it might be another late stay-awake night for me.

I took a picture just as the sun disappeared and the rain stopped.

I had a nosey at the YourArea Emagazine. At least the Covid-19 new cases are well down on last week!

Stores closing in Nottingham, fast-food stores opening in Nottingham. All confusing?

Well, what a shock on the local weather forecast?

The lackadaisicalness and weariness came over me, and I became pretty useless brain-wise. I put on the Amazon tracker and just sort of sat there waiting for it to get closer and arrive. Doing very little, apart from doing some self-analysing and fault finding for about an hour or so. Then the door chimes rang out! The Amazon pill-pods were there on the floor outside the door.

I collected them and did a visual inspection. At least when the next month’s prescriptions arrive, I can sort them out using these new pods, hopefully easier than last month with all the mixed empty mishmash of pods to get confused with. Well, that’s the plan anyway.

Totally drained now, mentally for some unknown reason. I got the nosh prepared. I ate it all. (By gum, I’m eating well recently, too well?)

I foolishly thought I’d stay up to watch the two episodes of ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ on channel 11. Not a chance! I was in the land of nod before the programme even started! Waking up to the tune of the end credits playing. I considered getting up to wash the pots and dishes, but I was soon back with Sweet Morpheus.

But it was a fitful sleep this time. For the next five hours, I seemed to blink awake and drift back into slumber so often? There were no thought storms involved, though—just a vague sort of ‘Oh sod it!’ response each time I fluttered begrudgingly awake and drifted back into a tristful sleep of sorts.

Little-Inchcy, Wednesday 10th March 2021 Diary

♥ By gum, some folks live well – Can I come, please? ♥

Someone should pay for this disaster,

Take the Blame! But no, they’ve got away with it!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Wednesday 10th March 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 10fed Mawrth 2021

23:20hrs: I woke with a bit of start, and as I began to free my overly-stomached torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, a few thought came at the same time to me. First, Cartilage Cathy’s pain was as bad as yesterday, then the lack of noise from the ‘Hum’ permeated through to me. But I could hear the machinery noises from, presumably from the rooftop plant room!

As I got up on my feet to catch my balance, Cartilage Cathy gave a nervous-making wobble and had me holding onto the chair, then a realisation dawned… “There were no gurgling and rumblings from the innards” Amazing! It seems that the Numark Instant Diarrhorea tablets from Amazon that I took last night had worked miracles… I had to curb my enthusiasm, though. With my luck, you never know what disaster, embarrassment, Accifauxpa or Whoopsiedangleplop lay ahead! However, I could not resist going into a Semi-Smug-Mode, all the same. I awaited the arrival of the Throne visit with a certain trepidation.

I got the computer on, checked the Pill-boxes from Amazon Tracker. Then realised I’d made a cock-up with it. (Yes, I know it must be difficult for you to understand a young man, of my alertness, education, attentiveness, sharp-wittedness, and diligent meticulousness can get things so wrong! Gesuntight! I’d ordered two and needed four to cover for the monthly prescriptions! What a plonka! So, I ordered two more. The first two are expected today, the next on Thursday. Had a wee-wee.

I make a brew of Thomsons Punjana tea. Neuropathy Pete was giving the right side of me a decent shaking every time I walked or stood up. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley joined in occasionally.

I got the Health Checks done then. The temperature was a little high again at 37.6°c – 99.7°f. However, I was well-pleased with the BP results this morning. SYS down to 148, DIA at only 74, and the PULSE a decent 83. Had a wee-wee.

I updated the BP log in Excel. Yes, Microsoft, let me gain access to the programme again today! They seem to be improving – no, I shouldn’t have said that, knowing how often the damned thing goes down! A bit of pushing my luck there. When will I ever learn? Hahaha! I took the morning medications.

I made a start on the much longer to do than yesterday updating for the Tuesday Diary. This was because of the Matron’s visit and late deliveries of the tablets. Which needed uploading and sorting before going in the post.  I did get it finished in the end, and I Pinterested some snaps. Then had a look at the Emails as I sent the link off.

Sister Jane had sent a photograph of their last cat still with us, Alberto!

He had had his picture printed in the West Bridgford newspaper! Fame at last! It was apparently used as a header for an article about Fun Pet Facts!

I made sure I’d updated and posted the Tuesday blog. Emailed the link. Had a wee-wee.

Went on the WordPress Reader section. Not much on it today, but what there were, was excellent. I passed some comments on many of them.

I hobbled into the kitchen and got some leeks prepped; it took me a while. Really mud-covered inside the leaves today. Sliced them and put them in the crock-pot, seasoned with a couple of vegetarian Oxo cubes added as a flavouring. I’ll put the heat on later, but meantime, they can be marinating. Nothing, like a good marinationing! Hahaha! Had a wee-wee.

There were no signs of any need for the Porcelain Throne yet. I’m hoping things will not have gone back in favour of Constipation Konrad?

I made a  brew of Glengettie tea, and then I got on with starting this blog going. It was a slow job, not through any ailments particularly, just a sudden loss of concentration for some unknown reason. After a few hours,

I checked on the email from Sainsbury’s to make sure about the ETA for the delivery. Well, they don’t like it when I opt for no substitutes, do they! The bread is going to be short dated now! They always win in the end. Swine! And they have cream doughnuts either!

I had a look at today Amazon tracker for the pill pods. Oh, dearie, me! This one is going to be arriving so late in the day again.

According to the tracker, it isn’t even out for delivery yet; that’ll ruin my sleeping pattern for sure! And then again tomorrow when the others arrive?

I feel down a bit now. Staying up late creases me up! But on the bright side… Nope, there isn’t a bright side or silver lining to this problem! Cragknackles! I’d better get the ablutions done quickly, ready for the food order! The session was a rushed one, as I kept dropping stuff too often, for Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing me up something awful. I didn’t bother fighting to get any socks and went barefoot; well, I had my slippers on.

I’d not long been out, sorting out the black bags and getting them into the box on the walker. But I dare not go out to take them to waste chute and risk missing any of the deliveries that are due today.

When the intercom sounded, and the Sainsbury deliveryman arrived. He put the items in the box and bag, waited for me to check the short date on the milk roll (sell by 11th March, Tsk), but it felt soft enough) I thanked the lad, and he refused a can of vodka in thanks and shot off!

Now, the next twenty-five minutes were spent unloading and taking pictures of all the delivered food. I thought of witty quips to put on each one; eight photographs were taken with the Kodak – Taking the ninth and last one, the Kodak bleeped! Puzzled, I investigated, but the screen had cleared by the time I got to view it? I put everything away and went on the balcony to get some good shots of the view. I took what I thought were some cracking ones… then the Kodak bleeped again…

It was telling me that the camera storage was full! I had failed to put the SD card in! And I have no idea how to get the camera to let me use the memory? I think I am losing it in realtime now!

I was fervidly angry, indeed infuriated with myself! I swore at myself openly, questioning my own parentage! What a moron! All that time and effort for nothing! 

Angry and cursing, I went out onto the balcony to retake a couple of photos. I took two, then dived back inside and shut the window, as the rain saw me a sent down a torrent to try and drown me. I took two shots through the glass. And people wonder why I’m neurotic, distraught, twitchy, nervous, apprehensive, unconfident, and jittery? This is one example of why, a proven born loser-addicted, and well-acquainted with failure! Ha-ha! Now I was getting miffed, riled and hacked-off with things! Still, never-mind, eh!

French Horns

Naughty, but nice!

Trying to work out how to get the camera and computer linked together was another total failure, but that’s alright – I’m used to it. : However, I did find out how to turn on the Micro-mode on the Kodak camera. Yahoo! I decided my first effort in Macro mode photography would be the packet of Fresh Cream French Horns! Unfortunately, it took me eight attempts to get this one taken; all the others were over-smudged?

The Smug-Mode was destroyed when I couldn’t remember how to turn off the Macro-Mode, and finding how I’d got it on in the first place was now beyond my capabilities! Sad, innit? I’ll have to try again later and use the Canon camera again. The Kodak Pixpro AX 651 is just too confusing for this old-fart to master using.

Working on the diary, and I heard the voice of Desk-Top Dancer, ILC, Warden Deana, as she came into the flat. Lovely to see her again. She’s come to do a wristlet alarm check. But we lost contact with Nottingham City Homes (Monitoring) Control room. She tried again, and someone spoke with Deana, I couldn’t decipher or hear properly what was said, but they were having problems, I think. Said she’d have to try again later. I told Deana I’d make an alarm call later on. We chatted for a few minutes, and I had a laugh. Mostly me, moaning about the Astra-Seneka after-effects and not being able to contact the Doctor about it. She had to shoot off on her rounds, which left me somewhat down in spirits. Poor old twit!

AntiD I must say, the Numark anti-diarrhorea tablets seem to have done their job. I’m very impressed. No signs of any needs of the Porcelain Throne, all day long, yet! I just pray that things don’t turn into Constipation Konrad mode! Trotsky Terence is not showing any of his (usual for the last two weeks) bubbling, brewing and gurglings at all.

I checked on the Amazon Tracker and was pleased to see the van was only three stops away from the flats. So, I took the waste bags to the chute and a bag of recyclables down to Roberts’ (Caretaker) bin. In time to catch the van arriving and saving him/her the bother of coming up to the flat.

I was going to take the camera with me to take some outside shots but managed to forget to take it with me, the same as I forgot the keys with the fob on to get back inside the flats and take the mobile phone with me. Well, I might as well just forget everything, that’d be good, cause I wouldn’t know if I had or not? Hehe!

I had a minute or so natter with Robert. And got back inside when he went into the lobby.

Minutes later, the driver arrived, she had eight small parcels in her arms, and I asked if any was for number 72. She handed me the package, and I hobbled, hassled by Cathy’s Cartilage back up to the flat.

I opened the box, and the pill-pods looked suitable if a little on the small side. Now I have to go through all this again tomorrow when the next two arrive. Then I can be ready to use these next month when the prescriptions arrive and make things a little more orderly in the medication stakes.

French Horns I got the nosh sorted out, making sure that the strawberry jam & fresh cream French Horns were not missed off of the tray. Hehe! Of course, I only eat them because of medical conditions. Or should that be mental conditions? Ahem!

The short-dated milk roll bread from Sainsbury’s wasn’t eaten; it was too dry for my tastes. Serves me right for accepting it! But all else was! The tomatoes were a bit bland. The Chilli-chicken was okay. The peas and leeks went down well! The Iceland canned potatoes were a good advert for cardboard-flavoured foods! Taste-Rating: 6/10.

The metabolism was satisfied with this meal, though. I got the things washed-up and settled down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, to watch some TV, somewhat later than usual with having to stay up for the delivery. But Sweet Morpheus was welcoming for once. I drifted off for five uninterrupted, dream-free hours of bliss! Bodacious!


Ineloquent-Inchy, Tuesday 9th March 2021, Diary.

 Can you see where and who?

♫ Who do you think you are kidding, Mrs Euro, if you…♫ Hehehe!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 9th March 2021

Swahili: Jumanne 9 Machi 2021

I woke tired from the guilty nightmares I’d been having… but not for long; the gurgling movement from the innards and tiny but lethal escapages of gas from the rear-end put an end to any self-pitying.

I was forced to clamber out of the uncomfortable £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner. Get my onerously over-stomached torso on its legs, catch my balance, and hasten to the wet room!

It as a closer call than yesterday in getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! The movement began, totally out of my control, stinky, sticky and gooey – a sure sign the Trotsky Terence was still in charge.  (I’m expecting some medications to arrive today via Amazon, on the tracker, they haven’t been dispatched yet, oh, I hope they hurry, Hahaha!) You watch; by the time I get them delivered, Constipation Konrad will have regained control. Hehehe!

The session was not a long one this time, but it took a heck of a time to clean up afterwards, me and the porcelain. At least it only took three flushes to clear things away.

I made a brew of my beloved Glengettie tea that now, ten-days after having the AstraZeneca vaccination, I am beginning to taste again!

And got on the computer, and tried the Excel crap, and found it was working. So, I updated the Health Checks listings while I could, but stopped… ‘You are a fool! I said to myself, best to get the Health Checks done for today first. Humph! So, I did. And what a shock some of the readings were! The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured in Guangdong, China, gave SYS 161, DIA 80, Pulse 90bpm.

But more scarifying was the body temperature result. 38.0°c – 100.4°f! Not good, undoubtedly? ♫ Fever, you give me fever…♫ Haha!

The tea went cold, so I went to make another one, but it didn’t happen.

I got sidetracked, yet again, and sorted the hand-washing out.

Placing the dryer clothes on hangers above the kitchen window and the still damp ones on the server-trolley in front of the wall heater. I put the imitation yarmulke cap on the stand-up clothes airer to dry quicker.

Took the morning medications. Then back to the computer and got on with updating the Monday I.T. Diary. I got it finished and Pinterested some photo’s, then I sent the Email link out.

I went on Facebooking next. Had a good long, enjoyable session. Then went to the WordPress Reader section to view the new posts and make some comments. I moved onto the WP Comment reading and responding.

Then I had a look at the local E-magazine for something of interest.

  1. Nottingham City Council has voted to bring in total a council tax increase of 4.99% from April. The increase, made up of a 1.99% rise in direct council tax and 3% in the adult social care precept, has been voted through at a full council meeting as part of a cost-saving budget that will see some £15.6 million of savings next year. The council has highlighted an additional £36 million in cost pressures to be borne over the next financial year, following a drastic reduction in the amount of money allocated to it in central government revenue support grants (RSGs). A shame, all part of the Covid Claw-back! Utility price rises, buses taken off that served the flats, Bank decreasing interest rates. It doesn’t stop there; Rents have gone up, water rates, Council tax, and more! Sob!
  2. Residents are being warned about phone call scams, including people pretending to be police officers after two elderly victims lost more than £15,000. Nottinghamshire Police say the scammers are using sophisticated “spoofed” telephone numbers, which appear to be the police, helping to gain contact with their victims. As part of the scams, a Hucknall man in his 80s handed more than £11,300 to the fraudsters, while another report from Newark saw an elderly lady lose £4,500 – both to a man pretending to be a Cambridgeshire Police officer.
  3. Latest Covid-19 numbers declared for the last seven days. Looking much better now, but complacency can be a danger to us all, still!
  4. Notts EuroMillions winner Matthew Topham; took his eyes off the road to grab a teddy bear before causing a fatal crash, Killing a pensioner.
    Topham, who was driving a BMW X6, admitted causing the pensioner Jane Regler’s death by careless driving but denied two other offences. The trial continues and is expected to conclude on Wednesday. Still, he needs not to worry about being raped if he goes to jail (but I doubt that he will; affording good lawyers). He’ll just pay the gangs for protection in there.
  5. Nearly six million people could end up on a “hidden waiting list” for NHS treatment and services in the wake of the pandemic, it has been revealed. The NHS Confederation says significant numbers of people have not come forward or been referred for treatment due to Covid-19. The body, which represents organisations that commission, and provides NHS services, is warning “urgent action” is needed. Well, as if I didn’t know! I wish they’d tell the uncontactable Doctor at the Sherringham Park Medical Practice! Still, if I feel brave enough, I can ring 111 and ask for advice… maybe, possibly… perhaps?

A lot of wee-weeing up until about 05:00hrs, now they seem to be trickling off? Haha! I made a brew, and I nibbled some mini Swiss rolls.

Then, with Excel working and giving me access to the HC listing (I know, I was amazed too!), I got it updated and took a snip of today’s High Blood Pressure, revealed on the NHS site, where you can put in your SYS and DIA, and get an assessment of the results. I’m still in High BP. Which surprised me in a way cause I’m not feeling stretched or whatever the word is… tense, perhaps?

Time to get the ablutions tended to. Off to the wet room.

Another great session today! Even better, because I got the short cotton socks on afterwards, without using Sock-Glide-Glenda! Hehehe! My decision-making capabilities have all but gone, you know. Do I risk falling on the floor by not using Glenda? Or, do I risk getting crippled bloodied finger ends and stubbed toes? Anyway, as I said, I used the risky back in the corner of the room, agonising from Cathy Cartilage’s point of view, have each leg and lean back into the corner, and hope to keep my balance between putting the socks on?  – Dithering, timidity, shilly-shallying, humming and hawing, and equivocating are taking over a big part of my psyche lately. I’m doing it again now!

Only about eight dropsies in total. Now falls, walking into anything, dizzies or knocking into or anything over at all! The legs looked a lot better after I’d got the socks on. Haha!

Only painful in the extreme Cathy Cartilage was any real bother. The medicationalisationing was handled easy enough without any real incidents. And Harold’s Haemorrhoids were calmer, and no bleeding! Grrreat!

I got the handwashing done, deodorised, wrung and hung above the sink!

I rang ILC, Night-club desktop dancer Warden Deana a ring. It went to the answer-phone. Maybe she is still on holiday.

Back on to the computer I went. I checked the Gooogle Calendar. To see if I’d got the ordered stuff, especially the anti-Trotsky Terence medications, from Amazon dates mixed up again, and some might be arriving today. Of course, there was no need to do this, with me being a man with an excellent memory like what I have. Ahem!

Aha, fantastic, the Smecta anti-diahorrea solutions arrived!

But the instructions were beyond even the powers of my reading glasses and magnifying glass!

The first thing was to make up a mug and get it taken! Feeling more confident now, and anticipate when the tablets arrive, and I got one of them down me, Trotsky Terence may abate a bit!

As I was taking it, I heard a clunk from the hallway… the Post Office had delivered the Numark medications! Great timing. So got them collected and took two straight away! Now I have even more hopes for some relief from the gooey, sticky, yet watery, stinking diarrhoea! I’ll find out in the morning… Dang, dang, dang… Dang!

Then, the door chimes rang forth with Dusty Springfield’s tune. It was the Community Nurse, Matron Jackie.

I responded to all her questions, perhaps overly so, on the Astra-Zeneca after-effects and how poorly I felt. I mentioned the trouble in getting in touch with the doctor’s surgery for help and guidance. Little response, I think she knew of the surgery’s problems; well, all surgeries are having at this time.

She was not happy with the mess the medications were in. I did explain about the chemists going back to boxed and not potted prescriptions, but it sounded like an excuse, even to me as I spoke. I decided that in the morning, I’ll see what pill-boxes were available on Amazon, get some to start again with from scratch next month, and throw away the current mishmash of boxes.

She said she was reading up and learning about Peripheral Neuropathy and asked some questions. The right PN affected knee was jumping at the time.

Then she took my BP and temperature. Looked at the record log and suspected the thermometer might be not working correctly. She had a look in my ear-holes and reminded me to put just olive oil in daily (which I do, it’s about the only thing I do keep up with!)

I felt adequately spoilt with the attention showed me by Matron Jackie ♥. She wondered why I had not called her when the vaccine problems started. I meekly told the truth; I’d not thought of it. But anything else happens, and I will ring her number in the future!

She departed, and I wallowed in the memory of seeing and getting her help.

My attention turned to the Nosh. Pork Knuckle, garden peas, a few sugar snap peas, tomatoes, potato fries, a Marmite chunk. With some milk roll bread – sounds good to me! So, I made it up, plated it, and on the tray. I made some mini-Dagwood sarnies with the milk roll bread as I tucked into it. Fantastic meal! (Of course, I was in a super-good mood, having just been spoilt by the nurse’s visit) Flavour rating: 8.5/10!

Did the pots, and got a wash. Took the evening medications with a Numark anti-Trotsky Terence tablet. Then settled to watch the Tales of the Unexpected on the box. I did get through the first half-hour episode, albeit with a few momentary nodding-off spells. As the ending music came on and woke me, I had to give up, as the weariness dawned. I turned off the goggle-box, and fell asleep peaceably, into a dream and nightmare free sleep of five-hours! Super!

Irked-Inchy – Monday 8th March 2021 Dairy

 

♥ TFZers relaxing in the Garden… oh, yes? Hehe!

What’s going on here, then?


INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 8th March 2021

Catalan: Dilluns, 8 de Març de 2021

00:30hrs: I woke to require a wee-wee and fought to dislodge my bouncy, prodigiously over-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Caught my balance (eventually) and