Breaking News!
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Inchcocks Diary Wednesday 9th February 2022
Around 03:10hrs, I woke for the umpteenth time – I urgently needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne. Again, as I got up quickly, Dizzy Dennis visited me, but I didn’t fall back into the rickety recliner this morning. That must have pleased Harold’s Haemorrhoids; it did me, that Germoloid Cream is not cheap, you know!) However, I stubbed my right big toe on the doorframe going into the wet room… Which is better than clouting my shoulder on the doorframe!
Unfortunately, the evacuation was another loose, splotchy, messy affair. But not as bad as yesterday morning. I withheld going into a Smug-Mode, all the same.
Back to the main room. And as I got some clothes on, I chatted with my family, of fun furries. (Sweetly supplied my HRH Lisa, in the USA♥). They and even I seemed in a decent mood for once.
I got the kettle on and went to do the sphygmomanometerisationing, etc. The temperature first came out at 34.4°c. 93.92°f. I checked on Mr Google, who told me: “Hypothermia is a dangerous drop in body temperature below 35C (average body temperature is around 37°c). It’s a medical emergency that needs to be treated in the hospital! I really can’t understand this? I’ve been in the 34°c areas for over a week now, but no Health personnel have said anything? I 
wonder if I’ve got it wrong somehow? Hey-Ho! Confusion Conrad with me again. Did the Blood Pressure next. SYS 151, Dia 73 and Pulse 68. I’ll check these on the NHS site. Back in a bit…
Message back: A blood pressure reading of 151/73 indicates Stage 1 Hypertension (high blood pressure). Well, the Doctor knows about this, whether she’s bothered or not, I don’t know. I’m on tablets for high BP… I’ll check again… I found it; the Ramipril is for BP; should I take an extra one… or not? Oh, dearie me! One day last week, my BP 
was 171/65, but I didn’t feel poorly. The last thing I need is another stroke. Mind you, I’m not all the tickled pink with losing my eyesight and teeth. The hearing is virtually gone, anyway. Innit a life! I olive-oiled the ear-holes. Phorpain gelled the knees.
But I refused to wash or medicate Little Inchies fungal lesion with the darned, Oh sp painful Daktacort. This obviously is because it’s as disheartening as owt I’ve had! And my being a namby-pamby sissy, left it until later. Tsk!
I nearly made a cock-up, and took one of the capsules from Amazon that Esther said help you sleep better. They work for her brother, I think she told me. I got two bottles, one for Carer Richard, who mentioned when I told him of my waking up at night lately that he is suffering the same thing. But we must not take any in the morning, just at night to help us stay nodded-off! Har-har! Nice to be able to help out with him being a good lad.
I made a start on finishing yesterdays blog and got it done eventually. Then tried to make an order for J. Sainsbury’s. But the system was down again. Humph! Had to use Iceland. Ultra limited choice and crazy substitutions are their forte.
Started the template graphics for today’s post, and “Oh, Susana” chimed away as Carer Richard came in! The poor lad had his leg collapse on him last night, get strain and bruising. But, I cheered him up a smidgeon by giving him his CBD Hemp tablets I’d bought for us both to try. A tube of pain gel for his leg. A bottle of spring water, an Easter egg, and a can of plonk. He definitely left happier than he arrived; bless him. Don’t think I’ll see him until the following Monday now.
Richard departed sooner than Herbert kicked off with his 
tapping and banging. On and off all morning, but not too bad.
I got the kettle on and went back into the balcony to see the end car park parking. As near as I could tell, it looked just like yesterdays snap did? Have I made another cock-up. Whoopsiedangleplop or error? Yes, there is a difference twixt these maladies. Haha!
Back to the kitchen, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and had four chocolate biscuits with it at the computer as I pressed on, slowly getting the blog prepared. I made the top graphic for Bill and Lisa. I hope they like it. Oh, and took this photo above of the dank morning view.
I hope it doesn’t rain and make walking difficult for Richard with his leg – mind you, it would be more difficult perambulating without it. Hehehe! I am a fool!
Good heavens! Where’s the time gone to? It’s 14:00hrs already!
Better make a start on the Local news section then…!
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Animals! Back in a bit, but not happy with the first Snippet at all. Better have a perusal of the YourArea newsletter and get a few graphicalisations to use…
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I am really pissed off with myself now!
I got a rattling shake from Peripheral Pete as I was typing… the keyboard was knocked to the floor via the waste bin. I retrieved it after a while, and the shaking stopped…
Norton had taken over the Google Home page… I’d lost the favourites bar from the screen, and somehow, Gawd knows what I did in those few uncontrollable seconds, but I lost access to WordPress altogether! To make things worse, I had to go for the Porcelain Throne session again… with bleeding as well that had to be sorted – all the time worrying about the computer mess I’d made. Then I hit of all things, my chin on the grab bar rushing to get out of the wet room…To find the History folder had opened up…
When I got back to the computer, I could have cried… in fact I think I did a bit. Anger, self-recriminations, frustrations and a feeling of utter worthlessness enfolded every part of me, mental and physical!
How I avoided becoming a gibbering wreck needs looking into. Well, I didn’t avoid it altogether. Then, I struggled to work out what I had done to get into such a pickle.
It took me a good three hours to get the favourites and font listing back – all trial and error. I found the courage to try things I would usually avoid for fear of destroying something, not the foggiest what I was doing, but my managing getting those two things back was a miracle! Now, I have no Google, but I can access Firefox, and the most fantastic thing, is I now have hundreds of unwanted fonts appearing from somewhere? And they have slowed down the whole computer!
I got a green window come up, and again, I had no idea what it meant; it seemed in part code? Then after a good five minutes, it disappeared from the screen?
The greatest farce, I use the word farce, because I was panicking a lot and had no idea what it was I might have done right, but I now have WordPress back… hang on, I might not have… I’ll have to find out by closing and rebooting I think… It allowed me to save and close everything… Oh please, please, PLEASE, let it open; here goes…
I may be fretting over nothing, but it did let me reboot.
I’ve had the same opening screen saver for weeks now… a new one came up, with the genuine but different photo of me?
The VPN had to be reset or restarted. (Norton).
But I’ve calmed down tremendously now I’ve got back on WordPress. Phew! The tons of fonts are still on. They won’t let me delete them. I’ve got a… Shit my potatoes in the oven… They are relatively well done now.
The Carer will be due soon, I’ve had nowt to eat yet, and I am suddenly so hungry.
Packing in on the computer now. I’ll try to catch up in the morning, feeling a bit nervy now, better get the nosh sorted.
I took this sky view photo while getting the nosh sorted out. Unique cloud formations that look like ridges in the fabric of the sky? Could it be the exhaust from alien invaders spaceships? Hehe!
Again, not a fancy meal, but more than adequate for an old Nottinghamian with vascular dementia, a high heart rate, and losing the plot. Sea salt and butter on the potatoes, the gorgeous podded garden peas from Kenya. Brown, yellow and red mini-tomatoes (All tastier than I thought they may be). A small BBQ burger, a pot of yoghourt. Deserved Taste Rating: 8.6/10! Nothing like being precise? Har-har!
A bit of luxury, then. I put the TV on to watch a football match while eating the meal on the tray, balancing on my bulbous, adipose, abdominous, wobbly, far-too-large stomach.
I fell asleep for the last ten minutes of the game. Then started the search to recover the lost bits of the meal, primarily peas, from the areas they had managed to hide themselves in. Some, in open view (Using the torch anyway).
I hobbled to put the light on so I could see things, unknowingly crunching several peas that had rolled on the carpet en route. Two of which squelched in between my toes and were a painful devil to get at to remove.
Two or three had found their way into the dressing gown pocket. Several in the fleshy folds of the tummy rolls. Some underneath the cushions on the recliner. A few on the side chair used by the Carers… I’m not sure how they got that far or high? Mayhaps, the most surprising escapee pea was found stuck on my left hearing aid! This was not spotted until I had a wash later?
You know that sometimes, Vascular Dementia Doreen can bring forth an amusing little Whoopsiedangleplop or Accifauxpas. That does little harm, and even to me afterwards, as in this instance, can bring forth mirth and the odd self-chuckle! Although stubbing my right big toe while bending to search under the cabinet for skedaddled garden peas was a little painful.
Got the washing up done and off for a wash. (Finding the squashed garden pea on the hearing-aid? Hehehe!)
Belated Carers arrived; due to training new gal, Kiya. Cheeky little monkey, I like her. Offered treat nibbles, said my farewells, but neither gal took the waste bags to the chute for me… so I took them.
Then, I remembered to take one of the new CBD Pure Hemp capsules. I’m hoping they will help with the recent lousy nights of sleep. I’ve been waking up, anything up to twelve times a night, and occasionally more often. Almost jumping or jerking awake. Fingers crossed! But the nurse said that it will take a few days to have any effect.
The capsules are transparent, and the contents look a little like tobacco, or maybe cannabis? Either way, the capsule slipped down easily enough. They are very light, which made me think they may be difficult to swallow, but, no problem. On this first one anyway! Hopefully, in a few days, I can find some proper undisturbed nights of rest? 🙏
The Thought Storms began as soon I got seated in the £300, second-hand, decrepit, c1968, rickety, none-working recliner. But the brain was defending me, I think. The memories of the cock-ups with the computer seemed to be masked? A mystery again as to why. But for some reason, the self-recrimination and hatred were very mild and only fleeting. Only the positive side of the days’ events was mused over??? Those are the only words I can use in describing m thoughts at that time.
In the early hours of the morning, the noise that woke me was atrocious. The loudest ever humming noise I’ve heard? Where from? I’m not sure. It may have been the dreaded not understood ‘Hum’. Or the machinery on the roof of the building? Or even a combination of both. Overnight, my sudden awakenings added up to about only six or so. Please let the Hemp capsules work!
The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe
You try to sign off and try another company! Huh!
03:50hrs: Woke up, wee-wee was required. I found the three nail-clippers I opened last night, in various places on my body? The little finger on my left hand had been bleeding but had now congealed near the nail. Erm?
Stubbed my toe against the sink support! (Luckily, it was the right foot, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters was playing up, so the pain was minimal! No doubt when the nerve-ends come back online, they’ll let the brain know. That’ll be fun!). Then, 
I got dressed and off to the kitchenette to make a brew, take the medications, and do the Health Checks. The view from the thick-framed, light, and view-blocking new windows was terrific. 
At last, I got around to taking the medications, and then did the Health Checks, starting with the BP, sphygmomanometerisationing. The SYS was still a bit high. The stick-thermometer was used, it showed as just ‘Low’. 
Then, I moved on to updating the Sunday post. Got it finished and posted off the Email links, and did the Facebooking. The intercom rang out, it was the Morrison delivery arriving. I got the bags from the doorway into the kitchen. And what a lot of sorting-out I had to do, too!
Coming back in, and I saw Riechsfuhreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana. I took the chance to have a word (More a pathetic moan and plea for help, really, Haha!) with her, about my problem with the toenails. She kindly said she would call the Sherwood podiatrist te when I might get in to see her, then she’ll call the private costly foot-lady who operates one day a week from Winwood Court, to see if she can do me. And would ring me back with what she finds out for me. Fair enough, I couldn’t ask for more! Well, I could, but that would be naughty! Har-har!
It turned out to be a delightful indulgence. The garden peas were lovely, the acetous beetroot and carrots were tasty, the boiled in soy flavoured water potatoes, then dotted with Hoisin sauce, really were most excellent. The ready-cooked beef was as good as I’ve ever tasted. A deserved flavour rating of 8.5/10 for this effort! Weary as I felt, I still savoured each forkful! 
Got the pots washed, took the evening medications and ointments, gels and lotions applied to those areas of my fine, magnificent, sculpted, toned, fit, young muscular body, in need of treatment. (Cough!)
02:30hrs: I woke, in no mood to become active in mind or body. Gawd blimey, I was still so tired! Never have I had such Clinomania, and reluctance to wake up, let alone get up! A little discussion between my brain vs my lack of willpower and interest in anything, resulted in the recreance winning this time, and I nodded off into sweet obliviousness.
As I struggled to get to the wet room, I espied signs of nocturnal nibbling on the Ottoman tray! 
Unfortunately, in my haste, I knocked corner stand, and I heard things fall off of it. No stopping, onward, the wee-wee must be released! And what a wee-wee! An HPSAUOC (High-Pressure-Sprinkly-Unexpectedly-Orange-Colour) style. But not a long one, and no pain with it, so that was good!
Fair enough, Toothache Tim and Duodenal Donald were making up for this, and a sore throat was developing. But overall, this getting up late seems to suit me? But, of course, most likely it just fooled the other ailments temporarily. Arnie Schwarzeneggers? They’ll be back! Hehehe!
ablutions are done. 
I’d done the teeth, bloodlessly, but it was a bit painful with Toothache Tim nudging his way into the scene. (Swank-Adopted!) While I was moving the clothes, I’m sure I saw the shape of a rabbits head in the moved flannels. 
I photographed the stomach before and after the shower. But there was no difference as I could see.
I got dried off and set about the perfumery and medication duties. These took longer than the teggies, shaving and showering out together! Olive-piled the ear-holes first. No Saccades Sandra spray left to use, Grungleclapskin! Applied the Germoloid cream (Wince!). Then got some after-shave on the one tiny cut. Sprayed the Brute deodorant over the elephantine body. Last of the Brute spray used up! Got the Phopain gell well-rubbed into the knees. And carefully, Note no toe-stubbing 
or dropping of the showerhead again! Smug Mode Adopted! I made my way to the front room to get clothed. 
airs.
I struggled a bit getting the bags in the chute, not because they were heavy or large, they weren’t. The problem was Shuddering Should Shirley had kicked off again, and she meant business this time. This encouraged the right legs involuntary drop-something and have a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. Nearly had me over, so it was a good thing I was in such confined space at the time!
Back and collected the trolley, using the walls in the narrow hallway, so I didn’t worry if I had a funny turn, the dancing returned, or Dizzy Dennis visited. 
I could find no details about the buses on the website. So asked on Winwood Heights Facebook, if anyone knew about the buses or Poundland store. Hugh ‘thinks’ the L9 is running in a Saturday timetable. If so, That’ll do me. 
Tried Josie’s door again. No answer. 
blasted its last beams on earth, I got the camera and tried to take a decent shot of the scene. 
01:10hrs: Worryingly, I woke with the urgent requirement for a wee-wee, again. I hastened to painfully remove my ponderosity of an over-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, rusty, filthy, not-operational recliner. Grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, and limped over to the well-used EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The wee-wee was back to the FFFONEE (Forceful-Furious-Fast-Orange-Never-Ending) style, again. 
Off to the wet room, to empty, clean and sanitise the bucket. And, just like yesterday morning, the Porcelain Throne had to be utilised. The evacuation was identical as well, Constipation Konrad in full charge of the flow, stop stuck, paining, and started again. Silver-Lining-Found: No bleeding. 
Having made my mind up to put in the maximum effort, I turned to get the stick, and I stubbed my toe against the waste box corner. I just don’t how I resisted yelling out. But a lot of wincing and grimacing, accompanied with a few silent curses, sufficed, this time. 
Made a search for the latest Nottingham and Country Coronavirus figures. Oh, dear! A discrepancy, I think that the blue-writing is for a later date or time?
In my haste, I turned rather quickly and had a little dizzy spell. Resulting in a toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! But it didn’t bother me in the slightest, I just carried on… 
the twelfth floor and my flat. Not turning out to be one of my best days, is it? 
I got the black bags taken to the waste chute, and Oh, boy, were the feet humming and hurting. Especially the toes! 
I got some of the spuds delivered in the crock-pot, sea salt and drop of vinegar to season them. Can you see the can of baked beans and tomatoes sent in my food parcel, behind the slow-cooker? 840g! 
A steak and kidney pie, sliced the potatoes, a few silverskin onions, and far too many petit-pois. (But I ate them, and everything else on the tray!) I made some rich gravy to go on it. Two Marmite rice cakes, and a lemon mousse to follow. 
Got the TV on. I wasn’t really watching it though, but sometimes it helps me fall to kip, but not tonight. 
I got the impression that I may have been doing some Nocturnal somnambulationing! As I took this shot going into the kitchen, so many things were not in their usual places, and the washed long-sleeved shirts, had been moved about on their hangers?
not-so-bright side, my left foot did hit the frame as well, and the message of agony in the toes was definitely sent! Arumsquatulistions, it hurt like hell! It did for hours! Humph!
Figures have shown the total amount of people across the county who have tested positive for coronavirus. As of Monday, May 11, there are now 569 confirmed cases in the city boundary and 1,224 across the wider county. 
It comes after Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust (NUH), which runs Queen’s Medical Centre and Nottingham City Hospital, confirmed two more coronavirus patients have died. Medical director Dr Keith Girling said the patients were aged 46 and 97.
d to bring a smile to my face, I’ll mention that the sock-glide was not utilised again. I’m not looking forward to having to wear socks again! 
e bags and a recycling box, and got them in and on the three-wheeled walker, ready to take down to chute and bin. I used the box that the headphones came in for the recycling stuff to go in.
cerning. To save time; unless there is a change of circumstances or variety, I’ll try to avoid the urge of doing so. 
so painful, I could have laughed out loud at myself. 
some tenants squashing big load of stuff down, and blocking the shaft, repeatedly. They still do it, of course. 
Said my farewells, (I swear I could see relief come over their faces, Tsk!) and made my way back up in the elevator to the flat, a tad sad at leaving the human contact behind. 
Then the intercom sounded. It was volunteer helper Sarah, who had fetched my prescriptions for me. This is so kind and helpful. I got to open the door before she got up to the flat, and found a parcel laying there on the floor? 
l Got the bag of prescription into the kitchen. There was no Duodenal Donald medicine in it, but I had some, so this might be the month when they skip it, no fretting. I’m afraid they are using the blue & white pods again for the daily dose trays. Just like the last time. The tablets are sticking to the inside of the plastic, with the static electricity used to seal them. I’ll have to take proper care when getting them out, or else it will be like two months ago when the smaller tablets had got stuck underneath the top sheet and I couldn’t get at them without making a decoration of tablets on the kitchen floor. 
The Amazon parcel was the second reserve head
Off to put the pasties in with the spuds now. 
03:55hrs: I woke, with frantic thoughts still storming around at random in my sadly confused head. Wind emitting from the rear end, RAI (Rheumatoid-Arthur-Itis) was giving me some electric-shock like stabbing pains in both knees, before I’d even moved my legs!
‘Will I be able to get the balcony door lock to open?’ Somewhat rather hopefully: ‘Is the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, just down the road from the Lidl store, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, going to let me down once again with the non-delivery of my prescriptions?’ ‘I could sense that Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding, can I put up with the pain of cleaning and medicating it again?’ 
All thoughts were abandoned at this stage. To be replaced with the urgent need for me to avoid any embarrassment, and get to the Porcelain Throne in time. Removing my obesely overweight stomached body from the depths of the £300, second-hand, recliner, was achieved without any Accifauxpas, caught my balance, grabbed the walking stick and hobbled rapidly as I could to the wet room. 
Got the kettle on for the Thompsons Punjana, and got some mushrooms in the crock-pot, to use later o both meals. Salt and the last drop of hickory were added for seasoning. 
Astronomicalisations! What a proper old-time ablutions session that was, folks. Not a single-cut shaving! Little Inchies fungal lesion temporarily healed, so no bleeding! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were also bloodless! No visits from Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun. Neuropathic Pete’s leg dancing, Shoulder-Shuddering Shirley, or Anne Gyna! I am Gobsmacked, flabbergasted! 
A dash of after-shave, a spray of deodorant, and Phorpain gelled the knees. Olive-oiled the ears, Sprayed the Saccades water in the eyes and cleaned the glasses. Made sure I’d got the right PP’s in the new bag (The last lot of XXL’d kept dropping down!). Got the bath towel on the clothes airer. 
Off to the kitchen. 
Back to the kitchen and got the spuds done up and served on the plate. Tomatoes, gherkins, cheese discs, silverskin onions, Tuna flakes in brine, the mushrooms, some extra-strong cheddared potatoes with butter and sea salt. choco bar, Limoncello dessert and a can of Gordon’s G&T. 
I espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field, and took this snap on the right of them. 
I thought maybe I’d better have something to eat. So, I demolished what was left of the cheesy potatoes in the bowl, and put the basin to soak with the cutlery.
r TV. Oh, and an extension cable. Got the details of the delivery trackers via email. Headphones ETA Monday up to 22:00hrs. Cheapo set headphones, Wednesday 13th up to 21:00hrs. The extension lead due; Thursday 21st May. Ah, well!
I returned in the flat and thought I’d better get something to nibble too, to try and settle the stomach, that was kicking-off as well now. I wasn’t up to cooking anything more, but then again was not hungry particularly hungry. I got a paper-plate made up. Last of the decent tomatoes, the mini-Melton Mowbray pork pies from Friday, and a few Marmite rice cakes. I didn’t eat all of the pies, just two. But had I not felt so tired, I might have gone to fetch some more Marmite cakes, they tasted delicious. 
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.