Inchcock Photographs & Odes: Wed-Thur 26-27th May 2022

WEDNESDAY 26th MAY 2022

Well, the lower legs are looking betterer?

The blood taking hole is standing up well. Hehe!

BP is fine again.

♫ Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain… ♫
♫ Telling me just what a fool I’ve been… ♫

My bad luck, or lack of good fortune, continues!

A simple nosh made for a simpleton,
Who knows not what is a sextillion…
Who passes wind, and creates a septon,
Dementia has made his brain wanton…
Yet had a dream, a hope and a premonition…
One day he’ll write a daily newspaper’s feuilleton,
But he’s too old now, this bald, retarded Briton…
He still cooks, nowt fancy like venison or a wonton,

I’ve waffled again, then again, and so did Byron?
I’ll try summat daring – like eating a persimmon!
I’m mentally decaying, needing a psychosurgeon?
Desperate to be seen by a neurosurgeon…
To be honest, I’d take from any chirurgeon!
Even if it helped just as smidgeon…
To slow down my deteriorating condition!

Evening carer has been, all shattered, but mentally okay,
Of course, there was no chance of it staying this way…
Control of my grey-cells thinking seems so far away…
No matter what I try, the confusion’s here to stay…
Of course, I’ve tried for help; I often pray,
But there’s no chance of improvement, I daresay…
Just have to hope tomorrow is a better day…

Lost the plot on this Ode; I don’t need to be told,
My mind refuses to be controlled…
I’ve no virtues of being extolled…
I’m not feeling very bold…
Problems that need to be resolved?
Why has my good-luck gland never evolved?
Why have I never won a gold?
No wonder my hopes have dissolved!

You may think this diary is so short on content and reckon I’d lost the reminder pad, and I spent hours searching for it and couldn’t find it anywhere? Panicked and faffed about, stubbing my toe and using naughty language as I built up my hatred for Vascular Dementia Doreen?

This guesstimate or thought would be Spot-On!

THURSDAY 26th MAY 2022

Cor blimey, and luv-a-duck! What a fantastic kip I had last night! I reckon I’d had about seven uninterrupted hours with Sweet Morpheus! I stirred back into pretending life around 0535hrs.

Of course, with not getting up repeatedly for a wee-wee, I was in a desperate need within seconds of waking up. The trip to the bucket was interrupted by a new requirement – the Porcelain Throne.

The lower back pain kicked off as I turned with metal Mickey in hand to divert to the wet room. In the hallway, dang it! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters came back online, and the leg flailed… straight into the edge of the doorframe, acquiring a rather nasty toe-stubbing to add to my slowly increasing collections of morning pains!

And what a messy session it turned out to be! Despite waiting many minutes for the motion to start and having a failed attempt at getting any clues answered on the crossword that I’ve now been doing on the throne for over a week, there were no indications of any progress. So, I started counting the new veins that had come upon the leg. Having worked out that only two new ones had come up and felt for sure at least five had gone down, I was considering going into a Smug-Mode…

Then, the… well, an explosion is the only word to describe it – the evacuated product burst out in some haste, and I could feel the splashes rebounding back up to my bottom and gentleman’s tackle storage area. What a mess the Throne and I ended up in! So, I set to cleaning and freshening things and me up in the wet room. I was caught out, right and proper, by Trotsky Terence’s reappearance after a few days. Humph!

All spick and span again, and feeling a smidgeon proud of how I handled the unfortunate evacuation, I departed the wet room on my way to treat myself to a mug of tea. And clouted my shoulder on the doorframe, setting Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley off jigging all over the place in her effort to dislodge the shoulder bone, I think!

MedPhorpainNeedless to say, I was a little pee’d off now. I took a painkiller with the tea and rubbed some Phorpain Gel well into Shirley’s shoulder where I could reach. I felt sorry for myself, and I reflected on who was really to blame. Doreen’s Dementia, Nichodemuses Neurotransmitter, Neuropathy Pete, Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys, and me! So many options came to mind that I decided all of these were at fault or the causes of my morning’s dilemmas.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchen window. Although it may have been from yesterday now, I think of it. Dementia Doreen is not easy to live with.

I got on the computer to finalise and post the local News Snippets blog. I pressed on regardless, and I lost a lot of time changing the central Ode. Why? I forget why I thought it was a good idea. The original and one I ended posting were both crap, anyway! But then, I’m good at crap. Consistently, I reliably churn it out.

I went to make another brew, determined to get this one drunk! The red sky reminded me of the old saying, “Red Sky at Night, Shepherds delight!” By the time I’d taken the pictures, the red sky had gone.

When I checked the photos on the camera, I was not impressed at all. But of course, with Cataract Kathleen, Glaucoma Gladys and Saccades Sandra lingering, what would I know. Hehehe!

Ah, when I got these on later, they looked so different in the Preview window than on this editor that I’m using.

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and in came two carers. They were not listening types; both were supervisory. It is my fault for talking to them when they sorted out the paperwork. I must stop doing that!

I went into the balcony, opened the end window, and took this shot of the Chestnut Way end car park… Trapping my finger in the spring lock as I close the window afterwards. Tsk!

I’d anticipated Richard coming today. My grasp on actuality had gone away. One of them had returned to the fold, and I was ready to listen to my tale of the potato husks that I’d left in the oven for eight hours overnight. I’d kept them to show to Richard, but they got a laugh out these gals when I showed them to them. Haha!

I got on with the updating and posted it to WordPress. Had a while on Facebook Catchup. Then made a start on the first Ode for this one.

Blimus! It was gone midday in no time!

I must get the WP comments to read and answer. Then I read the WordPress Reader new blogs and commented on them.

The Evening Carer will be due soon, Valerie, I hope. I’m going to get my wash and change into the night attire now, TTFNski. The ankles were a bit blotchy again? The INR being high?

A can of the veg chilli-con-carne, baked some chunked potatoes, last of the Milk Roll bread, and a pot of weak watery Morrison’s Honey flavoured yoghourt. I enjoyed it. Taste Rating: 7/10.

Arrived after I’d washed the pots up. Forget the Carer’s name again, nice gal.

I got down to kip, but the notable changes in the evening sky forced me to keep getting up to take photographs of the views. I’ll put them on Friday’s blog; hopefully, the SD reader will be working better then.

Sleep was a long time in coming. But that was my fault for me keeping getting up several times to photograph the changing sky.

Ode To Hope

Every time I think things may improve, I suffer a forfeiture,
For being foolish enough to be a self-deluder?
Of course, existence will just get crappier,
Anyway, if things went right, would I be happier?
Good fortune for me; it would be so unfamiliar…
No doubt it would make me feel guilty and peculiar?
I’d probably go into shock and have a stroke or seizure…
Not to worry, I’ll take my tablets and a gulp of tincture!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcocks Diary (Curtailed), for Fri-Saturday

First, a few words to explain why this blog is as pathetic as it is

❶ I’ve lost so much time with Liberty-Global Virgin Media going down, I lost count of how many times in the last two days!

❷ Then, today (Saturday), Facebook started doing the same thing!

❸ I took a tumble on Friday, which left me with the shakes.

❹ The eyes seem worse today; it’s a struggle.

❺ Shaking, Shaun returned.

❻ Eyesight still poor

FRIDAY 20th MAY

Good morning; I didn’t do this blog until Saturday evening. There are very few memory notes on the pad and not many photos to help the grey cells out. Facebook was going off again so often, and Liberty-Global – Virgin Media. So this is not going to be very erudite… not that it ever was. There will no doubt be some guesstimating and missed events.

Up at 01:30hrs to get the previous day’s blog completed. WP Reading. Comments, and I pressed on for hours to get the blog done and posted. Facebooked until it, and Liberty-Global Virgin was going down so often, I gave up. Try to catch up later.

Carer Valerie called, and I had the shakes at the time, which worried her a bit; bless her. I was still a bit unsteady when the Morrison delivery arrived, but when he left the packages in the doorway and had scooted, I started to come round nicely. I took some photos while I got the things away.

Still, the fridge didn’t look overfull to me? Could it be the eyes? Or a ghost coming into the flat and eating my stuff while I slept? I put it down to the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, or ectoplasms, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I sorted things out but could sense, no idea how, but this happens sometimes, a feeling that either an involuntary right-leg, Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was on the way and building up in preparation. It was a tingling sensation up and down my right side, where the stroke affected me. Huh! I decided to take as much care as possible to ensure there would be no ending up on the floor again today!

Herbert kicked off with the clattering, seemingly forever dropping things, drills, hammers, and meal boxes… Humph!

Arrived, I was not too good, and she noticed it. Said I was looking sweaty and pale, bless her.

Ablutions, then blogging away, making little progress. The computer went off again, so I made a meal; I can’t really remember if it was this one or not.

I recall going in the wet room, but I must have had a funny turn cause if I’d worked it out right, I was in there for an hour or maybe fell asleep on the Throne?

I had no idea who the evening caller was; I wasn’t even sure one had called… no… one did… I reckon. Shakes bad.

At it again. Clunk-thudding it.

Ah, I think it was Carer Cheeky Charlie who called on me, but… maybe not.

Got to sleep easier tonight, but the jumping awake was annoying.

SATURDAY 21st MAY

Gave up trying to sleep and rose around 01:30hrs.

Worked on blogging, no washing. Did my best.

Serene Sarah, I’m sure. Or Cheeky Charlie, was it? Both are lovely gals.

After she’d gone, I went to use the Throne. I was doing alright, had a wash while in the wet room, and as I turned towards the door, I had an involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance! I hit the wall and slid to the floor, and made a bruising contact with the floor in no time! It had to come; I expected this yesterday. Minutes afterwards, the lower back pain started and still has not stopped. I’ll see it goes, but I may call the NHS 111 number if I am forced to seek assistance. I won’t do it now cause the pain may ease off as time goes on. I’m such a hero… Hehehe! I’ve been a little wobbly on the legs since the Accifauxpas.

I’ve been a bit unlucky this week. The 40 bus did not stop to pick us up at the bus stop. The tumbles and knocks this week. Walked into doorframes, dropped a bowl of potatoes and cheese, burnt my hand, and slipped off of kerb hobbling up Winchester Street… so, everything is normal there then.

At it again. Clunk-thudding.

The Carer is due anytime now. Got a wash and got into the jammies. Then remembered the potatoes I’d put in the slow-cooker 13 hours ago… Mild Panic Mode Engaged, and shot off to check on things in the kitchen…

As I was getting them out of the pot with tongues, I got a hickey as I caught my little finger in the gripper. Oh, heckithump! Not only were they too soft, each one had blackies on the inside when I sliced them, So they are even looser now.

Carer Valerie arrived and asked me if I needed any help with the spuds. I declined her offer but thanked her. She got the tablets given to me and went on her way, taking the waste bags with her. ♥

I got back to the now lesser-blackeyed potatoes I’d sliced, and put them in the oven, to hopefully crisp them up a smidge. Got some tomatoes o the plate ready and two slices of imitation pork. But…

I cast my mind back to when I had to cook and clean for Dad. I’d got no bread, well I had, but it was in the freezer. So I got a few slices out, put them in an empty saucepan with the garden peas, and hoped they would thaw out before I needed them. No freeze, no fridge, no hot water other than what we boiled on the fire and stove, and no electricity (but we did get it later). Easy peasy when we got DC electricity fitted, gone were the candles… and damned good riddance! How the hell did I manage?

I checked on the potatoes, now sliced and in the oven. The sun was beginning to go down, and I took a few minutes pareidoliaing at the cloud formations. II thought I saw a mouth and lips or an imitation black hole that was white. Hehehe!

Got the fodder served up. The slow cooker and sliced and oven-baked potatoes were terrible, possibly my worst effort in years. But everything else was fine and tasty. Taste: 6.5/10.

Off for a wee-wee and had another figure-finding session at the kitchenette window’s clouds. Sadly, no pictures or visions were seen in the clouds this time. Although looking at them now (Sunday morning), I think I spot a monster in there flying?

As I searched for Sweet Morpheus, Herbert gave me a last short mechanical serenade with a whirling, whining sound to round off, decrescendo style. Possibly, an underpowered drill chugging? I mentally wished the aloof Laodicean a good night.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Fri-Sat 6-7th May 2020

Friday 6th May 2020

We’ll start with
THE LOOKING BACK ODE

Advice-Tips for ankle-snapper included

Whoever thought that we would end up batty?
Or slowly, our body will end up so fatty?
And for Sunday dinner, have a bacon buttie?
Alone, we sit here, not too far from the portapotty…
Fighting off the Thought Storms, recalcitrantly!

See a youngster injure, and enjoy our epicaricacy!
Getting depressed as we realise life’s now an atrocity!
Stuck in a three-roomed flat, full of self ethnocentricity!
Wondering how you’re to pay for this month’s electricity!
Can we blame it on Dementia or our quaint eccentricity?

Of course, misery holds no exclusivity,
We won’t recognise our own depravity…
Yet recall a time when we had debauchery…
Whatever anyone says, we reply with dubiosity!

No fight left; what happened to our audacity?
Now incapable of shoeing any voracity…
And how we drank and ate: It was pure gluttony,
Happy now, with two biscuits for a meal, no edacity…
And, how come the peeing has lost all its velocity?

My adiposity, obesity, and rotundity, cause animosity!
You try in the morning to be gritty… the day ends up shitty!
Give folks a good morning, trying to be neighbourly…
In return, you get dagger eyes with venom and toxicity!
Still, it’ll happen; make the best of it… although it’s a pity!

DIARY OF WOE – FRIDAY

On around the eighth time of jumping awake, and sleep was only for four hours, the annoying tingling from the bladder forced me up and out of the c1968 recliner and over to the grey overnight bucket for a wee-wee. I don’t know why I bothered; I think I’ve got another infection in the waterworks, it took ages to evacuate, and then it was painful and barely a trickle!

I opted to get a stand-up wash at the sink, teggies, and shaving sorted. There was a degree of forcing myself, for a very rare urge to get my head down again had to be fought off!

Not an easy struggle, but I won it with a bit of help from stubbing my toe against the electric stand-up airer’s leg… again! I often wonder if there is a built-in foot attractor in the pipes?

I made a start on the graphic for the Crowell Manor blog. And, along came Carer Richard arrived. And after giving me the medications, he set about checking all the dates on the foods in the fridge. I think it was eight out-of-date items. Humph! Good on him! He will review the cupboards next Thursday when he returns from his holiday.

(I started this blog, but not until Saturday, so no memories to use) Many of my notes for this blog became unreadable due to my stupidity in a rush to record them. Squiggles are too small to read! I’ll skip any that I’m unsure about and just copy those I can understand, so it may be a short double-diary from here on in for both Friday and Saturday… Sorry.

Shit comes to mind as a suitable explanatory word of how I felt! Got some photo’s uploaded on the first try! YES! I thought it might have cured itself, but it was back to hit and miss, with many more misses than hits to the later ones! It got even worse later on…

Liberty-Global and Virgin Media went down several times. It was highly annoying and frustrating. But did I let it get to me? Yes, I did!

Crap Service, crap lying company, and it should be… never mind!

15:10hrs, I got the blog finished and posted off.

INR DVT nurse came.No, honestly!  I think I may be in love here again… Hahaha! I should imagine that my being 62 years older than she is, a good foot shorter, I’m carrying a few stones more than I should – and wobbly at that, having Vascular Dementia, being deaf partially and blind, my hopes are not exactly optimistic. But somewhere in the ether lingers the tiniest bit of hope..!

Apparently, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down three times in an hour! I read more on my memory pad cause I was so angry, I pressed on the pen harder!

CRAP!

I was struggling to get the photos onto CorelDraw, and while trying to sort it out, Neuropathy Pete kicked off, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters sent the right arm and leg all over the place. I ended up with an entirely changed screen layout and four different messages on screen that I had no idea what they meant! I could not access the controls! I was buggered! So, I stopped, turned everything off in the proper order, and prayed that the screen would come back right when I rebooted.

Couldn’t get any photos to load at all!

DIARY OF WOE – SATURDAY

HERE WE GO… TRY AGAIN

Up until the early morning hours, trying to get the photos on the system, no luck, so I got my head down. Bursting awake at 06:30hrs, after four hours of kip. Panicked a little, in case I had not heard the Carer coming; they sometimes call at 06:00hrs… then realised that if they had been, I would have heard the loud ♫Oh Susana♫ tune, even if I was sleep… or would I?

I was a bit of a mental wreck, worried about not being able to get the photos on the blog… had I missed the Carer, though? Wee-wee, a mug of Glengettie, and sorted through the potatoes to salvage any that could be able to be ‘desprouted’ enough to use. Not many passed the test, but enough for tonight’s meal. Hehe!

I took a few photos during the day, but I failed on all three tries to get them onto the computer. Things are looking bleak!

200 0 0 porc The evacuated product was a little on the firm side. Constipation Konrad taking control, I bet the next visit will either be a rock-solid, bloody, painful affair. Or, of course, it could catch me out with a reversal and be a smelly, semi-liquid, messy outcome. Tsk! This is one of one’s little pleasures in older life, not knowing what to expect!

Carer arrived. Carol was a sweetheart and always ready for a laugh and natter, even when, like today and she was busy. ♥ I did the Health Checks. Later, Carer Valerie came with some things she said had been found in the washing machine, only dish clothes, but none were mine. I’ll mention it to her when she calls again; nice of her to bring them anyway.

I got the Crowell Manor Laboratory blog finished and sent off to WordPress. Then started this one, hoping that the belated photos might get on the computer Sunday for another rescued photographs blog. Hahaha!

I seemed to get further and further behind with everything today. I did get Facebooking, WP comments replied to… all to the accompaniment of Herberts clunk-clunking, noises like dropped stuff, and an occasional tap-tap-thud.

.Mind-blanks, dizzies and no rest, as I kept on trying to get the blogging done. (I finished this one Sunday morning at about 11:00hrs. I needed to concentrate on getting Josie’s meal prepared and served up by then. So as I speak (well, type), 13:50hrs, the blog has still not been posted.) There’s no time to go one WordPress Reader; I’ll have to find time somehow on Sunday.

Worra Life, Innit?

As one ages; faculties fail… and you feel like a misfit,
You can’t get out, remember owt, or get credit…
Sex is barely a memory… and that’s dying. Dagnabbit!
These are things you’ll live with, cohabit…

A teddy bear, embarrassment at your fleapit…
Ailments galore, memories of once being fit,
Summat else, bleeding when you go for a shit
Names, using, thingamabob & whatchamacallit,

Your once handsome features, now so decrepit,
Putting up with name-calling, like a half-wit, & nitwit,
Desires dying, loins failing, I can’t be any more explicit,
The advantages of Brexit… all a load of bullshit!

.

Inchcock Today: Diary with Odes

I’d like to start with my family, friends and flatmates here at Woodthorpe Court, in Sherwood, Nottingham

Roger Rabbit, waving to Lisa & Bill ♥

Their Mother & Father are my cyber-buddies, HRH Lisa, Billum and Alan, of Fort Thomas in the US of A. Lovely Gift; A smashing clan who sent them to me out of the blue, and I have a natter with them every morning! I made a family portrait this morning…


Inchcock Today

Whoops I woke up with a whopping great jump and jerk. It was of such magnitude it moved my body mass a few inches towards the edge of the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly-recliner. A few more inches would have had me on the carpet, cursing and nursing Harold’s Haemorrhoids! Hehehe!

Of course, that was the end of any sleeping, so I lay a few seconds to work out what day and time it was and any actions or activities required… But here was the watch? No longer on my wrist?

I soon found out what I’d done with it – fourteen hours later, I found it on the floor, behind the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner.

During the ablutionalisationing, I realised I had not got my watch on. “Ah, well,” I thought, “It’ll be on the ottoman!” Finished off and made a brew of Glengettie. But…

Refilling the kettle, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off. Talk about bad timing! Harrumph! The water went all over the previously washed and dried cutlery and crockery, down the front cabinet of the sink and down my trousers, socks and slippers, and onto the kitchen floor…

It took me ages to get it sorted and dressed again. I seem to be doing this a lot more often lately. Dementia Doreen? SSS? Peripheral Pete? Cataract Kathleen? Haha! Who knows which will get the blame.

Made a fresh mug of tea and got on the computer, rather pleased to be making an early start on the blog. Ha!

I had to do other jobs and kept nipping back to see if Liberty-Global, the company with a Revenue of: 12.98 billion USD (2021), who bought out Virgin Media Internet, are even worse than the scumball BT internet was… Not that Herr Fries is bothered. Don’t I pick them!

Did the health checks, and the internet was back on. But to for long, ten minutes maybe…

Pee’d off with this already! The Iceland delivery arrived. They had substitutes plain sausages again for the unavailable microwave ones! That’s the fourth time this year, I’ve sent them back each time, but they keep subbing them.

The strawberries and tomatoes were from Morocco. The strawberries had some slime on a few, which I threw away. The mini-cherry tomatoes were substituted for vine ones and tested for taste… Bloody Hell! I’ve tasted a tomato so foul and bitter in my life! Eurgh! They hadn’t any brown cobs in stock either! All in all, a bad do! I put the crap away.

Tried the computer again. It had come back on at last. For around a half-hour, then…

Well, obviously not that much… Git!

My morning Carer called and sorted me out. It was her first call. She came in without ringing the door chime and gave me a nervous tick! Even if she shouts out when she walks in, I can’t hear her with my hearing. Still, I wasn’t using the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) when she came in. Hehehe!

Aha! The internet came back on… Thank you, Mr Fries. Got the post finished and sent off. Facebooking, and it happened again:

Liberty-Global has disassociated itself with Virgin Media; they do not mention that they own and fail to run it, hoping that Richard Branson will get the blame, I think?

One more effort once it came back on. Most anger-making and revenge prompting! But this time, I had to close everything down and off and reboot the box and computer.

I’ll have to give up on this; Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet has gone off again! My language is crude at the moment. I am willing and wishing that Fries drops dead immediately. It won’t matter to me cause he can’t run the service anyway. He’s a number-cruncher, accountant, actuary, bean-counter, bookkeeper, calculator, con-man. His use of smoke and mirrors, off-shore account movements etc., are his strengths. A wanker of a banker! Indeed, he has no people-care or customer sensitivity.

I’ve lost all my heart in blogging now. I’ll get something to eat, give up until morning, and then try again to use LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet. But I’m not confident… well, I am in a way – I feel sure that Fries will let things get worse… there’ll be a financial fiddle of some sort involved in the situation, I’m sure. But he is obviously trying to destroy a company, his company, that paid around $2.4 billion to buy out… why? Back-handers? Mafia? Money Shuffling & Juggling? Banking fiddle? You scratch mine – I’ll scratch yours?

Bribery and manipulation? Or just money-making savviness via greedy, devious, underhand means? Just a thought! Why is he shoving all the much-travelled money of Liberty-Global into telecom and internet companies the world over? When he obviously is incapable of providing a reliable service? A money-predatory and manipulative Con-Man supreme!

Today’s end car park inspection photograph.

Carer Valerie arrived. Just after I’d realised that I had no hot water from the taps (faucets). She was kind enough to find and write ht telephone number of the Nottingham City Homes Repairs in large letters so I could read it. I was a little nervous to ring yet if I had made a cock-up leaving a tap running or something. (The hot water was back on in the morning, Phew!) Off went Valerie taking the bags o the waste for me on her way. Thank you!

Herbert was giving it some hammer tonight; I wonder what he’s making this time. I found a picture that I’d taken last week, possibly from Thursday when I visited the foot lady at the hair salon appointment farce.

Washed and changed into the night attire, and I made up a bottle of spring water and lime juice. I did a couple for Carer Richard, who may come on Monday, and stored them in the fridge, so they will be nice and cold for him.

Hot much of a sunset again tonight, but still beautiful to me, even with the muted hue and colours.

I used the Canon camera. As for some reason, the Fuji developed a thick white line down the centre of the screen, and I could not remove it? Turned it off and then back on, but no luck; still there?

As I got down on the recliner to watch some TV, I took this snap of my legs. Not a pretty sight!

The fattiness in both legs was returning, or it might be water-retention, but I think not. I wish I knew why I felt that, but I cannot remember why now, Tsk! (Sunday morning)

Cartilage Cathy on the right and Arthur Itis on the left knee, can you see? The veins are shallower tonight, and the hairs have suddenly turned grey? The funny side of this shot was the feet not showing. Hahaha!

An Ode to an ‘Orrible Day

My signing with Virgin Media was happenstantial,
The computer… to be precise, Liberty-Global,
Ran by Mike Fries, money-mad and ignoble!
Who bought out Virgin Media, most controversial,
Liberty-Global is crap; blame is cunningly deflectable…
They keep shtum about owning Virgin Media – detestable!
So Richard Branson gets the blame, a sort of Guilt-Burial!
My hatred for Mike Fries is substantial…
Well, his hatred of customers is evidential…
His lousy internet seems to him inconsequential,
He still gets paid a fortune, and management are reverential?
The sickening signs of fiddling figures are torrential!
Although my evidence is only circumstantial…
And comes from a customer who is uninfluential,
Liberty-Global’s ever failing service makes me demential!

Morning all!

Inchcock: The Lesser-Red-Spotted Mad Professor Ziegler

I gorrup at 03:00hrs. Scribbled notes about a very short dream I’d had. And soon decided I was not up to much, the dang-dark Depression Gupta with me… all the way today. It was a constant battle to keep my pecker up. So no diary as such today, I spent hours and hours just prepping to get some graphic content to use later on in CorelDraw graphics.

Worked on getting the blog for yesterday finished and posted. The did a search for the graphics I needed. Time was belting along.

04:45hrs – 05:10hrs – and 11 further times: Herbert started with tap-tapping with the odd metal sounding thuds thrown in.

Tended to prep for Josies’ lunch, Wee-wees and two Porcelain Throne sessions.

07:50hrs: Cheeky Carer Charlie came.

Made sure I knew it was her birthday in two weeks time, I asked if she would like red or white wine, she kindly left it up to me. Hehe! Charlie said she’d remind abut again later. Haha! We had a mini-chinwag after she’s done the meds. She selected Rolos and a can of Vodka and lemonade for her treats today. Off she went, taking the bags of waste with her. Bless her! I had temporary relief from dank-dark Depression Gupta, while young Charlie was with me. It didn’t last of course.

J Sainsbury’s delivery arrived. Short-dated shelled peas and bean and cheese pasties (1 day). No milk or skin-on chips. Hey-Ho!

I got onto CorelDraw to start the first graphic. This took a few hours more, with me nipping in to check on Josies’ Chilli Beef nosh.

Dream Graphic wot I dun from last night

Dream as recalled: I was searching for someone, no idea who, but they had to found, I knew. Down some cellar steps, the first thing I saw was a foot with medication pad on it, high up on the end of a wall, sticking out of a drainpipe… Lost my balance with looking upwards and my hand and arm went through a brick wall, and I could not retrieve it… I looked around the back, and a ghostlike figure with knives, swords etc, was stood in the cellar corner wailing, a dome-like helmet on… Then flames came from a passageway…

And I woke up, to find unidentified crumbs in the folds of my belly and button, one sock one-off, and the emptied water bottle stuck between my legs?

Well, after many hours, it all takes so much longer with the eyes fading, I got this graphic completed. Amazingly, it came out close to how a part of the dream was.

I’m sure the whole dream only took seconds?

————————————————————-

Checked again on Josies’ fodder, all looking okay up to now, and got back to make start on an idea to

make one for Billum, I’ve called The lesser Red-Spotted Professor Ziegler.

Graphic wot I dun from last night:

HRH & the lesser Red-Spotted Professor Billum. carry on with their charity work. Here, having completed the brain transplant for Inchcock, they moved on to phase four and gave him a new head as well. Inchcock up and about twenty minutes after the operation. Which they did in Billum’s Home Physics Laboratory, in hope that some of the facts of figures on the board might be picked up by Inchcocks new brain and head; but…

Got Josie’s nosh delivered, no point in taking any photos, until I can find if there is a way to salvage the computer...

  Left the tap running, water went cold.

Made nosh, garden peas, buttered sourdough bread, and tomatoes.

Carer Dionne tonight.

Miserable mood, although Dionne cheered me up a smidgeon.

Compute troubles. Cataracts are making things hard. Feeling so weary and tired. Now cometh toothache… Crap!

Inchcock Today – Just a graphic wot I made

Billum treats Inchcocks Ailments!

Bill & HRH

Lobotomy Sorted Out The Problems

HRH Lisa, Problem Sorter Outer, Ether-Carer to Inchcock, Electrician & Nurse (and a cracking looker) was at hand throughout the operation. First Aid box at the ready. Backing up professor Billum all the way.
The electrics and life monitorings were handled by Alan.

Billum prepared for the removal of the brain. Amazingly, Inchcock felt not a single pain! He was put at rest, by HRH covering his head area in Phorpain, and giving him an iced lolly.
The kindness showed by Billum, was gobsmacking. (They actually had to smack his gob to bring him round later, when refitting the brain and reattaching his head; but that’s for part two to come later.) Billum had thought of everything beforehand, he’d been planning this procedure for over two days, in his glasshouse laboratory.
He explained that when the brain comes out, Inchcock may not notice any difference, but not to worry.

Because a false moustache, spectacles, hearing aids, a missing many teeth plastic mouth, and a BO spray would be adorned on the brain straight away; so that it would feel at home without Inchcocks mass of blubber and accoutrements surrounding it.
He even supplied mini-walking sticks, crutches, and had the foresight to keep giving the brain a clout now and then, so, as he named him, Brian the Brain would not miss Inchcocks pains from tumbles, walking into things ad the desperate pain from the overactive bladder, Brilliant!

I’m afraid this will have to be caught up with later, because Inchcock’s eyes are too bad to continue, sorry. He may have to skip a blog or two, or just put a few words on. The poor old git is not too good at the moment. The eyes and bladder are the two main reasons.

Professor Billum started with Inchcock’s worst affected area, naturally the brain, but Billum had to take it out first.

Cheers, each.

Inchcockski – Sunday 13th September 2020: Long, long day! But this phagomaniac made a decent meal for once!

TFZer Gal – Bootiful!

Sunday 13th September 2020

Spanish: Domingo 13 de Septiembre de 2020

13th September 1959: The first man-made Object (Luna 2) reaches the Moon!

About an hour after getting down to sleep, I woke to see the colourfulness and the brightness of the night coming through the thin, tatty, old, raggedy, multi-holed curtains. I could not resist fighting my way out of the recliner to take a photo of it. Lovely!

Around 00:50hrs, I woke again, in need of a wee-wee, and struggled to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and struggled to pass what was maybe 2 or 3 fluid-ounces, over the next five minutes or so! Yes, another RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) wee-wee! Hobbled to wash my hands, and then I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, non-operational, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery and unbalanced, positively-dangerous to use, rickety recliner, I soon nodded off again, which was pleasant and a change.

02:10hrs: I stirred into mock-life again, wanting another wee-wee. This time, catching my balance as I grabbed the stick, was a little more difficult, I’ve no idea why, but I got the bucket in time. It was an RSHH mode again, but with far less pain. The  Post-Micturition After Dribble lasted much longer than the main event did. Drip-drip, dribble, wait, sprinkle, drip… Tsk!

I could sense that things in the wee-weeing department were going to continue in the little-and-often style, so I emptied and sanitised the OGPEB, disinfected it and returned it to the computer room for later use. (And believe me, it saw plenty of action!). I’ll try to resist mentioning too many of them, it may sound too dull, but to me they were annoying. Each one was of deep luteous shade.

I remembered (Miracles do happen, then? Hahaha!) that the Falls-Team arranged delivery of a new walking frame was due to arrive today. So I got with doing the Health Checks sharpishly. The flipping SYS is still high!

The temperature, using the stick thermometer was the highest its been in many a month!

But that’s a good thing, I think anyway? I don’t think its too high at all.

I took a photo of the tablet trays, to show you how it is so easy to make a mistake in taking them. Although these pods were designed, to make it easier for we slightly more mature dodderers, and cut back on such errors. As you can see, the pills are all over the placed, many stuck under the covers, and others had moved into another compartment altogether! Many were stuck on the glue, others by the static electricity in the packaging. When they were first introduced, they told me they’d be fool-proof as well! Hah!

Obviously, they had forgotten about the well known locally ‘Special Skills’ of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up Mansfield Road, from the Lidl store.

I’d no idea what time of day the frame might come, so I got on with updating the Saturday post. Got it completed and Pinterested some snaps from it. Went on Facebook updating, then the same with the WordPress Reader. Emailed the link, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

I closed down Computer Cameron and got some hand-washing done, before doing the ablutions. The old oven grabbers were washed with the other stuff. I’ve still got the new gloves, but these although hard to clean, easy to dirty, and very old and tatty (a bit my me really, Hahaha!), they’re more effective and easier to hold onto when Shaking Shaun or Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters play up.

I had a bit of spontaneous breakfast after the washing was done, wrung and hung—cheese biscuits and a pot noodle, and off to the wet room for a scrubbing-up.

I needed a Porcelain Throne visit first. One of the easiest for a long time. Yee-Ha! Still painful, of course, but so much quicker than even yesterday’s was! A bit of blood, a smidge messy. Needed cleaning up before I took a shower, Haha!

But would the cistern clear things? No! I needed to hand-fill the tank a couple of times, and still, some bits were floating even then? Aggravannoying!

The ablutions were miraculously incident-free again! Not much bother from Toothache Terence, only one dropsy of the toothpaste tube! The shaving produced only two little nicks that did not bleed much at all. Doing the showering and only one mini-dizzy-spell, and three dropsies! Drying off went well, too!

Ah, well, the medicationalisation didn’t go as smoothly, I’m afraid. I thought that the rear-end furuncle was clearing up yesterday, I was wrong, and applied the ointment a little too roughly, and the blood flowed! So had to apply some Dakacort cream to get it to stop! I cunningly did this in the shower area and then sprayed-away the resulting blood flow mess using the shower-head. (Smart, eh? Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Harold’s Haemorrhoid’s done with the Germoloid cream, and Arthur Itis’s knees and hands with the Phorpain Gel. I felt rather good about how I coped these problems!

The leg ulcer, or Clopidogrel allergy markings, had spread-out but got fainter, and some new ones appeared on top of the right foot, below the base of the toes. The fresh ones looked like freckles. Ah, well, it stops me getting bored, Hehehe! 

I got the new PPs on, a pair of trousers, and the maroon zip-up shirt. The Sock-glide was given a sneer of contempt, as I left the wet-room.

Because I was not wearing any socks, and the vicious, finger bruising and crushing monstrosity, was again, not going to be used, and my digits and legs put at risk of injury once more! Not that it scares me, of course! Oh, no!

Then, I set-too making up some black waste bags, and put the Floor-Voting paper on them, so as not to forget to take them with me on the way out with the bags, to the Rubbish chute, and take the voting paper down to the lobby.

I got a face-mask on, and the items were carried by hand, using only the wooden walking -stick. For some unknown reason, at that time, I felt in a rather panurgic, ready-for-anything mood? Yes, it confused and baffled me as, why as well!

By the time I’d got out, and to the chute-room, unfortunately, things had changed quickly. I was all over the place with the walking stick, and must have appeared drunk to anyone who might have seen me? The old balance had gone to pot again. I got the bags in the chute alright though.

Then clouted my right elbow against the door frame, on the way out of the room!  A spot of turbidity in the brain as I waited for the lift down to the ground-floor lobby. By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, and into the main hall, my balance was a lot better, and the foggy-brain seemed to be clearing. What’s going on here?

I posted the floor colouring preferences sheet into the ballot box.

And again, with a renewed physical and mentally settled state, I got the lift back up to the flat.

Where, perversely, the semiobscurity returned to the brain and vagueness, a lack of concentration came over me. My memories of getting Josie’s meal prepared is a bit sketchy. I discovered later on that I’d forgotten to photograph it, yet everything from when I wheeled it to Josie’s door, is crystal-clear? We chatted a short while, and I returned to the flat’s kitchen to get the cleaning up done.

I was doing well again, and then almost flaked out. My body and mind told me to get down in the chair, and stay there; I checked that I had on Medical Alert Alarm wristlet, which I did. And I immediately nodded of fitfully. I kept on waking up with the sunshine coming through the thin, decrepit, holed, curtains. But, nodded back off almost straight away each time. I suddenly jumped awake, and felt a different person, back to my old self? I’ll put this on the questionnaire when it comes from the hospital.

But I was feeling fine, and got up to check on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and got the computer back on to update this blog. And Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were both being good to me! I couldn’t understand what had happened, but I was so happy that things had returned to semi-normal. Obviously, now a scepticism and uncertainty remained, a sort of fear that it might happen all over again. Whatever the heck it was?

The door chimes rang out. It was an NHS chappie, delivering the new narrower walker for me. He was in a rush, my EQ picked up on that. I remembered what Nurse Caroline had told me about not doing anything with it when it is delivered until she calls again on Wednesday. So I put it with the spare three-wheeler on the balcony. I never thought I’d use one of these! It was wider than I expected, and I didn’t cope very well with it, putting it on the veranda, at all.

Updated this blog again, and it is now hours beyond my usual head-down time.

But the need for some Diary TFZer top graphics is urgent, so I moved onto CorelDraw.

Decided to make another brew first, straight Glengettie this time.

Then took a snap of the sunshine, and returned to CorelDrawing at last.

I only got one graphic done, (Tsk!), and made the template for tomorrows, and the got the fodder sorted out. Better late than never!

Battered fish strips, slow-cooked potatoes halved, and a bit of butter and onion-salt sprinkled on them. Garden peas, and some of the delightful baby Piccalo tomatoes. A pot of raspberry ripple mousse from the freezer, thawed out as I as the meal, nicely!

Tired-out now, but I stayed alert enough to enjoy this feast. Deserving of a Flavour-Rating of 8/10.

Went to get the meal things soaking in washing up bowl, and took this photograph of the evening’s view.

Having been up for over 20 hours or so, and in a state of weariness that was high, even for me, I felt so sure that I’d nod-off within minutes of getting my head down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, puke-making beige coloured recliner. It was not to be!

Sweet Morpheous did eventually arrive, but it was gone midnight by then! At least I got around four hours of deep-sleep in, before waking up in urgent need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Ah, well, TTFN!

Inchcockski – Saturday 29th August 2020: I felt anandrious today, and confused with it!

Saturday 29th August 2020

Sethoso: Moqebelo Oa la 29 Phato 2020

03:30hrs: I came to my limited warped senses, with only one aim, that was to get to the Porcelain Throne, pronto! I extracted my wobbly, overly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey. Then I proceeded to do a slow-motion imitation of a John Cleese walk, desperate to hold back any anticipated escapages en route to the wet-room! I thought I’d succeeded!

I whipped down the PPs and got settled down sharpishly on the raised seat, There followed one of the most horrendous evacuations I’ve ever had. Sadly! 

The painful motion began of its own accord, the grindingly slow, pleonastic event went on and on… Argh! After what felt like an hour or so, (but was only a few minutes), the final push I had to make to encourage things along, was agony, but necessary. A few seconds to recover, and I stood up gingerly and found that much blood had flowed, in amongst the pebble-like evacuated product. And paradoxically, during the mass evacuation, I took no less than three wee-wees! But worse of all, some of the pebbles were on the floor around where I stood! So all my best efforts to avoid this happening came to nothing!

A good clean up, medicationing, and antisepticalisationing took place. During which, I caught Metal Mickey with my foot, and he came down straight onto my left foot toes!  I was worried about the noise the calamity had made, hope it didn’t bother anyone!

  Of course, I wasn’t bothered at all. I took it nonchalantly and in my stride. Pain means nothing to me, Ahem! However, the embarrassment flowed thickly!

I hobbled to the kitchenette, and needed another wee-wee! I can’t keep mention this,  but it kept on all morning, every wee was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) type, and, peculiarly, with no pre or after Micturition dribbling. Not a good start to the day, but my EQ insisted things will improve, that’ll do me if he’s right!

I took a snap of the morning view, then got the kettle on the boil, and retrieved the BP sphygmomanometer from the third-down medical drawer.

The Sys is still a bit high, and the pulse rate was up – this is possibly due to the nightmare evacuation farce on the Throne, and all the upset of the proceedings, methinks?

Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and took the medications. Then off to Computer Cameron, and made up a template. Then updated the Friday Inchcock, which, after the horrendous start to the day, went almost smoothly. Oh, Yes! The ailments were all, apart from Toothache Terence and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, being kind to me! A long job, but I completed it in record time. Smug-Mode-Utilised! 

As I got up to go for yet another SSP wee-wee. Coming back, I spotted the card posted Thursday, had dropped between the chairs. I got the long picker-upperer and retrieved, and opened it. It was from Warden Deana, bless her.

I got the blog sent off to WordPress, Pinterested some photos from it, and made a start on this post.

After an hour or two, and many wee-wees, I went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjabi. I got some new potatoes in the crockpot, to marinate, with sea salt, and some fish vinegar for a while, I’ll put the hear on later.

Took the tea, and returned to Computer Cameron, but not for long, Toothache Terence was starting his searing with pain again, so back to the kitchen for an extra Codeine.

I visited Facebook and read and posted some stuff. Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Time’s flown, I’d better get the ablutions done. Back in a bit…

I’m back! Not as easy a session as yesterday, but that was a miraculously damage-fee special one-off session. Back to a closer to the norm performance today. Hehehe!

  ABLUTIONALISATIONING SESSION REPORT 

etc. And then ! Tsk!

  • On arriving in the wet room, the need for another Porcelain Session came. And a painful one it was! But far easier than the first one all the same.
  • Oh, dearie me! The cistern was not coping with removing the waste product! I had the lid off and kept flushing and refilling via a jug from the sink. I poked in the inlet pipe, and found it part-blocked with the toilet block seals? I gave up after that, I’ll have another go later on. Gragnangles! 
  • Too early to use the shower, too noisy. So I cleaned and medicated my lower regions, but gave up trying to stop Harold’s Haemorrhoids from bleeding, I’ll try after having the stand-up wash. When I can concentrate easier. Flagtoggles!
  • Pickleglobknobs! The teeth cleaning was a nightmare, well, morningmare, bleeding gums, agony from the toothache, and four dropsies of the paste and brush!
  • The one job, shaving, did frit me a tad. Yet it went so well, only twp dropsies of the razors, and one of the foam spray. And, only one tiny cut above ear-hole. It always amazes me, why does my hair grow around and in the earholes, but nowhere else? Just a thought. Confusionableitis!
  • Cleaning around the rear end caused a few stings from the furuncles and piles. Ohh-oh-ho!
  • The dreaded medicationalising, was as to be expected, hurtful! Hahaha!
  • When it came to putting on the fresh PP’s, I lost my balance a smidge, I didn’t go over though. Instead, I put my hand out on the floor cabinet to stop myself toppling. Thus clearing just about everything you can see in this photograph! Grobbleknangles!
  • Note the screws up Haemorrhoidcream tub? When picking things up, I dropped that one three times! On the third effort, it bounced off of the raised seat, on to the wall, and rebounded landing behind the pipework! Grigglebogsblowit! Took me a lot of effort to reach it with the short picker-upperer (Donated to me by Jenny, Bless her ♥), and I had to knock the cartilage damaged finger getting it!
  • Then I had a bash at freeing the waste product. More flushes, and prodding in the hole. It’s still not all gone, but I’d had lost heart and felt atrabilious. I left it, to try yet again later on.

The feet and legs, as with the rest of the body, was really anæmic looking. Ghostly, infirm, peaky! A few new blotches. Silver-Lining-Search-Result: However, the ankle ulcer continues to slowly fade away.

I got some trousers and my slippers on, and off to the kitchen. The morning was breaking, at last.

I got the kettle on for a mug of Thompsons Punjana.

Set the heat on the crockpot, and put some mushrooms in the saucepan, with some sea salt and balsamic vinegar.

Ah, Herbert’s at his model making again, I reckon. No drilling and hammering this time, just the odd tap-knock and clunk. No problem at the moment.

I had a look at the many emails awaiting my attention. Busy looking time coming up for next week.

The wee-weeing is still coming at a steady rate of knots, about eleven or more so far, I reckon.

I had a perusal of the Nottingham Local E-magazine. To find some of the latest Coronavirus figures available. It took a while, but I managed to get these articles found, that does not look too good.

The cunning way in which they have changed the central figure from total to just new cases make it look far less to worry about.

Yesterday’s figure: Four new infections were recorded in Nottingham – bringing its total up to 1,337. Across the wider county, there have now been 3,366 positive tests confirmed since the start of the pandemic. This is an increase of 10 since yesterday, with Broxtowe recording the highest number of new cases (three) in the last 24 hours. However, there were no new cases reported in either Mansfield or Ashfield, while Bassetlaw, Gedling, and Rushcliffe all recorded two new cases.

I had a look at the leeks, mushrooms, and new potatoes cooking progress. Coming along nicely. Then I went on to create a funny ode on WordPress. Well, that was the plan… but the Prescriptions arrived, Deepak himself delivered them, bless his cotton socks. I thanked him and gave him a bag of goodies for the staff.

I turned off the computer and placed the medicinal items in the kitchen, and got on with making the meal. Another goodish effort and I gave it 7/10 for a Flavour-Rating.

Consumed it with relish, and got the pots washed. The fatigue and weariness dawned on me as I sat down, but would Sweet Morpheus arrive? No!

Put the TV on, in the hopes, this might help. But, no! The danged Thought-Storms began! Confusion, aporias, and incongruities flourished! They produced a sort of habrobaniacal state of mind! Claptickleisations!

Inchcockski – Monday 29th June 2020: Discomforting, diuturnal doings of a baffling nature!

Monday 29th June 2020

Igbo (Africanus Horton): Mọnde 29th June 2020

02:00hrs: After many false wake-ups, I had to make this one real, cause I needed a wee-wee, again! I fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, dilapidated, not working, uncomfortable, Haemorrhoid-damaging, rickety recliner, to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). It had been well-used overnight, so many times I thought I must have worn the carpet down! Hehe! 

However, the content level barely covered the bottom of the bucket. Each sprinkling session during the night got smaller, or less than the previous one. This effort lasted for about a painful four seconds! I reckon I’ve got another urine infection. The colour was white and cloudy. Hey-ho! 

But at least it got me up, and when I stubbed my toe on the edge of the hearth, this ensured I was fully awake, and the brain started to activate. Not logically, but it was nice to pretend.

 I took the bucket for cleaning and sanitising, and I found I needed the Porcelain Throne while I was in the wet room.

Well, agony hardly covers how painful this was! I needed to exert a lot of pressure to get things moving… But it was Rock-solid! Half in, half out, the motion stalled! The pain did remain, for ages, a quick bash at the crossword until I got it going again! The sight of all the blood shook me for a second or two. I decided not to photograph the view!

A good cleansing session and some Germoloid cream applied to the rear-end.

Despite the agony of the evacuations, I still found time to cringe at the pain from the uncut toenails and feet.

To the kitchenette. I took the morning medications first, then got the kettle on, and did the Health Checks. Which came out much better today. The earhole temperature was 62.2°c.

Then I tried to take a scan photo of the roadway below, but the shaking made every effort fail. Blanglebotherations!

So I tried taking two shots, and later manipulated them as best I could together, (Not very good!) and grouped them, converted to Bitmap, and trimmed them down. I wonder if I’ll ever be capable of taking a scan-shot again? Probably not. Humph!

No red vehicles in view for Billum?

I launched myself into updating the Sunday blog. It took me a while as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were as usual, on and off. Silver Lining Results: Saccades Sandra, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and Shaking Shaun was all in a good mood!

I got it done, sent off the Email link, then I went on the WordPress Reader section. Commenting, then made up the template for and started this post going.

I took a break and went to make another mug of tea, fancying the Extra-Strong Assam this time.

I was getting trembling sensations from the right ankle and top of the leg? I took a picture of the pins, but they looked the same as they did yesterday. Well, no, that’s not right. The upper legs were retaining fluid, and they were not like this earlier?

Of course, the uncut toenails and soles of the feet, they hurt when I just look at them! Hahaha!

It suddenly got lighter or rather, brighter outside. Can it be the sun trying to get through this early in the day? No sooner had I took this picture than things went all dark again.

Then, of course, it had to happen! Hobbling back to the computer room, and I had a cracking toe-stubbing, again on the electric fire hearth! I believe I did quietly pass a few naughty words and may have questioned the parentage of my bad-luck! Sorry!

I went on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking. Then got some black bags made up, to to the waste chute, then took the big blue bag of recyclables down, out and around to the caretakers’ room. The only person I met, going and returning to the flat, was a nurse waiting for the lift.  It was a smidge dark again outside, a few spots of drizzle occasionally, and the wind was getting higher.

Got in the flat, and had a check around to make sure things were safe for me to hibernate in the wet room, taps, heater, lights etc. not left on or open, and get the ablutions sorted out.

Ablutionalisticalisationing Report – Overall rating: 7/10!

  • Coped with cleaning the teeth, Toothache Thomas not too bothered! Toothbrush and paste, one dropsy each, only!
  • Shaving: Dropsies; Shaving foam spray, razors (3), Cuts a few. (3).
  • Showering; Dizzy Dennis visit, and dropped the carbolic soap (2), flannel, and back brush.
  • Drying off; Knocked a lot of stuff off of the floor cabinet, but had the Jenny supplied picker-upperer at hand to make life easier.
  • Medicationalisationing; Applying the Cortisone cream, a little over-enthusiastically, and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding.
  • Kept my balance dressing and didn’t walk into anything on the way out!

Smug-Mode-Adopted!

I (sedulously and safely) made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea. While doing so, I thought I could hear a rattling noise from somewhere, so I went to investigate around the flat. Turns out, it the wind blowing the glass panes about on the balcony. It was still dark, but no proper rain yet.

I espied some red coloured cars at the dead-end if Chestnut Walk. The end window, although I was brave enough to try and use the metal spring clips, that traps and bruises fingers, perfect idea for old folks balcony windows. Indeed, this very opener has had two Nottingham City Homes workers already! But I couldn’t get it to open. Too tight! But no bother for an agile, fit, young man like wot I am! I hung out of a front window and lurched my body to the right, and with the camera strapped to my hand. And managed to take this photo on the right, of the vehicles!

Coming back in the flat, I was about to allow myself another moment of deserved Smugness… Then stubbed the same flipping toe on the raised balcony step! Grumblecronkackers! Globblegripes! Gangleboggleisations! Granglesknackersbuggerit!

Oh, dearie me, all that care taken not to trap my fingers in the lethal metal spring-clip, that needs to be pushed and pulled at the same time to operate it, then I go and stub the toes again! I was so angry with myself.

I decided to make another mug of tea, Extra-Strong-Assam I think this time, take another pain-killer, a 60g Codeine. Because things are getting painful now! Anne Gyna, Toothache Thomas, Little Inchies fungal lesion, Haemorrhoid Harold and now the stubbed toes, sore pads of the feet, and the so uncomfortable uncut toenails have made an alliance between themselves methinks: To ‘Give Inchcock Excruciating, Agony, and wretched-purgatory’. They’ll probably be planning my next serious Whoopsiedangleplop or Accfauxpas at this moment. Hahaha! Well, it feels like it! I dread to think what Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus have up their sleeve for me! Gehenna, here I come!

I got this meal prepped, and settled to eat it—a Flavour Rating of 5.5/10.

Uncle Dizzy Dennis came on after I’d eaten it, I put the tray on the other seat and blissfully, soon dropped off to into a much-needed sleep.

Minutes later, the door chimes rang out, both of them. I grumpily rose up and went to the door. It was Josie waking me yet again! Bless her, she felt she had to keep giving me stuff in return for the Sunday meals. And she gave me some blackcurrant cakes. Dia Bete’s cannot be happy about this. I thanked her, but was wrangled at being woken up again! Mustn’t blame her, she can’t help forgetting things, any more than I can’t get any sleep!

Dizzy Dennis came on again as I resettled. Sleep, my disturbed Sweet Morpheous, did not want to return. I got more uptight, and when I did eventually drop off, nightmares flourished and woke me up with a jolt! I fought to get back to sleep.

Then the landline rang and flashed! Out of the chair, banged my knee on the Ottoman, got to answer the phone. It was the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she’d arrive between 08:00 > 09:00hrs in the morning. Thank her! Tried to make a note in my head for tomorrow and the Morrison Delivery being so late, and I must not forget it is coming!

Then I gave up completely on getting any proper sleep, and got a brew made, and onto the computer. Worra-lot-of-bovver!

Inchcock – Wednesday 17th June 2020: Lots of lucubrationing, fretting and failures today!

Wednesday 17th June 2020

Serbian: Среда, 17 Jуна 2020

03:00hrs: I stirred into life, with a raging headache. For a moment or two, I lay gathering what senses I could.  Then traces of the dream I’d been having, came back to me, in some detail too! I grabbed the pen and notepad from the Ottoman, and scribbled down the finer points, as the memories faded again. Later, when I get a chance, I’ll go through them and let you know what real insanity I dreamt of.

The need of the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I disentangled my ultra-thin limbs, and overly-stomached, flabby belly from the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner. I got up on my feet and caught my balance without much bother at all. (Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Got the stick, and off to the wet room.

Without a doubt, this Porcelain Throne session was the easiest I’ve passed in many a month! But it was a messy one. Took no time at all, but cleaning up afterwards was a long, unpleasant job. Ah-well, can’t win ’em all! Still, the feet were looking a smidge better now. Not the Howard Hughes toes, though!

Sanitised and refreshed, I poddled off to the kitchen…

  Where I found the freezer door ajar! I closed it as quickly as I could. But it must have been opened for several hours. I dare not open it again yet. I’m praying some of the stuff will be useable when refrozen. Not that I am not expecting to be able to use much of the produce in it when I do. Just hope for the best. It is cram-packed full in there – and the possibility of my having to throw it all away. Bagging the waste-material into small bags so that they will fit in the tiny opening in the waste-chute. Too many trips to and from the room. Bending to get the stuff out, all put me on a bit of a downer. And I was hoping for a better day today, less stress, fewer incidents… Fool!

The fog had descended. There’s not much of a view outside this morning. I got the medicalisationing equipment out to do the Health Checks. I dropped the stick thermometer, but it still worked when I retrieved it with the picker-upperer.

The resulting figures all looked okay to me. No problems on the sphygmomanometer. The temperature just showed as ‘low’. If I’m not quick enough to get the instrument out of my ear-hole, the reading changes to low or high display. I was not fast enough – The story of my life there! Hahaha!

When I got to download the pictures later, I found this mystery photo? After applying my Sherlock Holmes-like investigative skills, I thought it was taken in the kitchen. When Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had a little play with me. I took the medications and made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea.

At long last, I got on Computer Cameron. I made up a template for today. Then I started updating yesterday’s blog.

I finished it and had a look at the notepad with the scribbled dream memories. But my handwriting was so atrocious, much of it was indecipherable. Tsk! Using a bit of recollection and the writing that I could understand:

  • I was throwing food from the cupboards out of the window on the balcony.
  • A crowd gathered and started shouting for specific items, Bacon, cornflakes, bread and pickled, onions were amongst them as I recall.
  • Police cars arrived and arrested the crowd, presumably for not Social distancing?
  • When the Marias arrived, and the citizens were taken away, more Officers arrived, each with a shopping list!
  • A Tannoy was used, as they shouted up for what they wanted.
  • One chap asked for cheesy mashed potatoes. I explained I haven’t made any. The policeman Tannoyed back, ‘Yes, you have, on the second shelf up in your fridge!’ Then threatened to arrest me if I failed to find any for him?
  • I threw some requested Glengettie tea bags out, and then I went to look in the fridge.
  • Sure enough, a little like Dr Who’s Tardis, I opened the fridge door and walked into it. There were stacks, piles of food, and inside was as big as a football pitch! Hundreds of my plastic plates with cheesy potatoes, too!
  • I was forever going to the fridge for more cheesy potato meals and back to the balcony.
  • They had set-up a winch system now.
  • I’ve no idea why, but Police Helicopters and red coloured Tiger Moth planes filled the skies?
  • The doorbells rang out their usual ♫ I only want to be with you, ♫ tune.
  • The hallway outside was cram-packed with people vying to get me to adopt a giraffe, panda or Elephant, supply drinking water, pay for medications, and to take out an over 50’s death policy. Argh!

Many other things happened, but nothing clear comes to mind. I think the dream ended as I was fighting off the insurance and charity mob. I’d written down three pages of memories on the notepad. Undoubtedly, one of my curioser, more vivid dreams, methinks. The nightmare bit was those ‘Over-50’s’ sellers!

It took me some time to get the tale of the dream done, (And three variable wee-wees). I went to make another brew, with hopes of getting this one drunk. Haha! 

I spotted through the mist and fog, a couple taking their dog for a walk. I did my best to photograph them, on Auto setting, but it didn’t come out too well.

Then, I went on TFZer and Winwood Heights Facebooking. The mist is less now.

Time to see if I can get an order in for Morrisons. The last few times it’s taken between 2 to 4 weeks. I’ll give it a go.

Got it done! But I had to wait until Tuesday 30th June for a delivery slot. And that is a bit late in the day one. Unfortunately, 16:30 > 17:00 hrs. But the waiting doesn’t matter, as I have so much food in the flat at the moment, you wouldn’t believe how much!

Scary innit? Hahaha! By the time it arrives, I should be ready for it. In thirteen days, there should be room for it. Being the Unglefrogwoggling idiot that I am, I’m sure the recent Blank-Spots and Spells are the cause of my ordering food and not remembering, I’d done so.

I rang Sister Jane and Pete, as they have not answered my two emails sent yesterday, see if they are okay. The line (It always is) was bad, Jane rang me back. That was a bit better for hearing and understanding. Pete arrived near the phone, I wished him well with his experimental treatment at the City Hospital! When the conversation became three-way, I was lost altogether. Pete departed to do some shopping and check on his bank balance and investments. I then needed another visit to the Porcelain Throne. We parted, and I shot in the wet-room. When I say, shot…

I sat, sitting there for ages, convinced that something was about to erupt. But, No! Nothing moved, despite my firm belief that it was ready and willing, the innards refused to allow any evacuation! Still, I got a few more clues answered in the crossword book. 

Off to make another brew, this time of Thompsons Punjabi tea. I took a shot of the weather, still a bit misty, no signs of any rain. It doesn’t look the slightest bit like it’s going to be any precipitation! Inchcock wrong again!

Then I had a thought (I occasionally do), it doesn’t look like rain. So why are Arthur Itis’s knees losing pain and gaining stiffness? Every time they have done this in the past, rain or even a storm had come on the same day. I don’t suppose it matters, but my EQ faith suffers.

I had a check on the weather. That’s the weather than I was certain would produce rain today. Grobbleatkins!

Back to Computer Cameron, and went on the WordPress Reader section. That took me over an hour. I’d got behind with me reading, with the activity of the last few days. All caught up now.

I wet on the Nottinghamshire Live Full News Site. Here are the first few headlines on the page: Just to cheer you up, like!

Girl Found Dead in Nottingham Park.

Police close bridge as ‘pools of blood’ found following Nottingham shooting.

A teenager has been locked up after he stabbed a 20-year-old man during a “gruesome and violent” attack in Nottingham.

Millions of people in Beijing under new Coronavius restrictions. There have been 137 new cases in the last six days!

To make my day, the next page gave April’s Nottingham crime figures for my postcode.

Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked off again. Making doing any work on graphics impossible until, if, she gives me a break.

So, I got the nosh going. Despite my feeling half out of it, it was a decent looking and tasting effort, a little too much for me to eat it all, but I gave it my best shot! Flavour Rating: 8.2/10! After having eaten what I could of it, I was feeling more alert and aware of things.

Taking the things back into the kitchen to get them washed, it looked like an explosion had taken place. The mess I’d left from the cooking made the place look very untidy, a sausage lay on the floor near the stove, along with two halves of tomato, a fork, and an unidentifiable tablet—one of the small ones that all look the same, Furesomide, Beta-Blocker or a Codeine 30g. I think I was lucky that I didn’t leave the stove on, tap running, or window open. Shame-Mode-Adopted!

I tidied up a bit and got the washing done. And planned to get back to watch a re-run of a 2016 Euro match. Eventually, I got my head down to view the footy. Fell asleep, but woke up to see the penalty shoot-out, at least.

I got the headphones on, to watch and listen to a documentary on Channel 25, Freeview, there were not any subtitles on the programme.

However, when I went to make a brew, the EQ predicted rain arrived, but not a lot of it.

My new headphones on, and fell asleep, as expected. My waking up was a bit scary (Not really, but it made me jump). The right earpiece cover and foam, which I discovered was just stretched over the plastic, fell off. Falling down my shoulder, followed by the headphones, onto my Brobdingnagian-sized flobby-stomach is what woke me. I wondered what the heck had happened at first. Haha!

I set about trying to put the cover back over the ear-part. Not a good job, but it will do for now. Humph! 

Sweet Morpheous was reluctant again. Gragglespitness!