Inchcock’s Diary, with Memories and an Ode

What happened to Inchcock on this day, in 1953?

On his way home from the getting some cows heel and tripe for his Dad. As he was crossing the canal on the bridge on Wilford Street. A gang of teenage Herberts lifted him and unceremoniously threw him off the bridge into the canal! Being about six years of age, scared to death of water, and unable to swim (His fear was life-long, he still can’t). He struggled to grab hold of a barge rope hanging over the side of the boat but lost his grip, he got cold, and his fingers were not big enough to hold on… As he sank into the water, a pair of strong hands from a bloke in a rowing boat dragged him out and took him home. Where his father knocked the hell out of him for losing the tripe and cow heel, pointing out that the 2/6d (12.5p) cost would come out of his pocket money! Which baffled the lad a bit cause he never did get any pocket money from his Dad in his life?

SUNDAY 15th MAY 2022

05:15hrs, I begrudgingly woke and awaited the brain to join me. Which it did, with the message that I needed a wee-wee. I freed my cumbersomely large bellied body from the £300 second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable, unfit-for-use, not working recliner. NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) took me a while due to the vast amount of  PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling).

Dizzy Dennis kept going at me all morning long in short bursts. I got the waste bag sorted out and started prepping the veg to go in with Josies Chilli meal. Chopped leeks, carrots and peas.

Opened the can of Chilli and started adding the cooked vegetables. Put them in the saucepan and add squid vinegar (liquid salt), chilli powder, Worcester sauce, and malt vinegar. After testing the flavour, I can add gravy salts and tomato puree with basil.

Herbert is noisy again. Bloody Sundays and weekends, he’s always the same!

I visited the Porcelain Throne. A good job that the carer was so late because I must have been in the half-an-hour at least. Most of the time was spent cleaning and clearing up. Trotsky Terence was in charge again. You wouldn’t believe the amount of loo roll used! Tsk!

Got a good wash and showering done, I felt a bit better then. Coming out of the wet room, I got through the door, and by the fairer without a knock, shoulder slamming or toe stubbing.

A new carer came in without ringing the buzzer-chime, and of course, I didn’t hear her coming. Sarah, she’s not been before. Nice gal, but she didn’t take the waste bag with her, no problem. I can do that later with the next one to go. No problemo! Well, as long as Vascular Dementia Doreen lets me remember. Hehehe!

The photos went on through the card reader!!!! So I got the old ones on. Yesterday one here first. The state of the ankles as I came out from the shower yesterday. Not painful nor itchy, although they did later.

These on the right are what they looked like after this morning’s session at ablutioning. Not any different, really. Or are they, and Cataract Kathleen has missed something?

A morning photographicalisation from the kitchenette next. The bright sunshine on my face made it impossible to take a good one.

My evening, well, was the only meal of the day. Potato slices baked, tomatoes, crap tasting sugar snap peas. And gorgeous mushroom pate on a couple of baps. Taste Rating: 8.8/10!

These two were taken with a sort of foggy haze in the air. After seeing them, I thought they had a kind of gentle quality to them. That’s not what I mean, but as close to what I can explain. Peaceful, tranquil, they made me feel free from strife… of course, that didn’t last for long. But a good sensation while it lasted… I’m now awaiting the arrival of the next Whoopsiedangleplop. I pressed on with updating and posting the Saturday bog to WordPress. The Facebooking, WP Reader, and some WP comments are to read and reply to.

Herbert’s cacophony of banging, clanging and grinding noises continues.

A wee-wee, and back to the photos. I took this shot from the balcony. RVD (Red-Van-Man) is back, but the small red car has taken up his beloved parking spot on the yellow no-parking lines. Hahaha!

Time to start checking on and serving up Josie’s nosh now. On my way to the kitchen, ♫Oh, Susan♫ chimed out from the doorbell? Josie came to tell me that she was going out to a restaurant with her sister and didn’t need the meal! Well, blow me, fancy letting me know half an hour before I deliver the meal! But let’s face it, it’s much better than five minutes. Hehehe!

She said she could collect it tonight on her way home. So, I said I’ll put it in a big jar to let it cool, then you can place the container into your fridge; that’ll be two chillies to use later on. Josie added, “She’s (Her sister) has only just called me to let me know”.

Herbert just dropped something this time; it sounded heavy. I gave him a gentle tap on the piping with my walking stick. Not that it will do anything to help me get some peace. He is the most equanimous, unforthcoming, stand-offish person I’ve ever met. Superior Shithouse!

“Clunk, thud, ratattattatat!” That serves me right for getting annoyed. Then I kept getting scratching-like and knocking noises. I’m so sorry, Sir Herbert!

Two chilli meals in the container and some treats for Josie when she gets back from the meal with her Sister at the restaurant. I’ll get mine (meal) started now, then see if owt is on the TV cause the computer problems are driving me mad! (Of course, there are many other reasons, Haha!)

I put the potatoes and vegetarian burger in the oven, peas in the pan, chopped some mini tomatoes and got the TV on for half an hour while the burger and spuds baked. And put the TV on. To find the Ladies Cup Final was showing, and I got deeply into it, so interested that I forgot all about the cooking!

I fumbled out of the £300 second-hand, decrepit, c1968 recliner, got Walter the Wooden Walking Stick, and into the kitchenette. I nervously opened the oven door… The ‘bake for 30 minutes’ food had been in for nearly an hour!

The breadcrumbed veggie burger did not look appealing at all. It felt very hard. As expected, the potatoes were overdone; some of them, the smaller ones, were inedible and had to be thrown. Yet I ate all of it! Enjoyed it too! The burgers left in the fridge will get overcooked; it was firm and delicious! The spuds were tough to eat, and no doubt damaged a few of my remaining teeth, but it all tasted grand! Flavour Rating: 8/10! I hope Duodenal Donald and Harold’s Haemmorhoids can cope with it, and I get no toothache! Hahaha!

Cara Sara arrived, again not ringing the chime and giving me a shock when she entered the room. But a lovely surprise, she is tall, young, beautiful and charming. (Dang to old age! Har-har!)

Sweet Morpheus was again resistant to my requests for shut-eye! But, when he permitted me to nod off, I slept through without any jolting awakes for just under six hours! Great!

Friends Comments when I got shot (First-Time)

“Oh, yer?” An old schoolmate by the name of Elgin,
“Could ‘ave been anyone!” fellow security officer Kathryn,
“Tell me another!” My neighbour in Sherwood, Glyn,
“Shit!” I forget his name, Welsh lad from Abergynolwyn,
“Serves yer right!” The supervisor at control called Kelvin,
“Why?” An old passion of mine, a big gal named Roslyn,
“I wunt du yoor job!” Traffic Warden, called Edwin,
“Tommy rot, yer tit!” Richard, but we called him Dick Turpin,
“Will yer be off work?” Manager, we all called him Fagin!
From the hospital, they sent me back to the site again…
“Can yer drive yersen there, course you can!”… Fagin!
“You can’t claim off of us!” Site manager, on arriving…

Evening All!

Inchcock Today: Ode & Diary – Saturday 15 May 2022

Approached creating this ode quite guiltily…
My ideas for it were whimsical, bonkers, delusionary…
I pressed on all the same, but involuntarily…
For Alto-Inchy was taking the piss at me,
If it comes out passable, I’ll have to be lucky…
So, I hope to avoid getting any vilipendency!
Will it get boos? Or be received gladly?
Here I go… I’ll have to wait and see…

Last night’s Porcelain Throne visit showed sanguinolency,
I had to clean things quickly, with no time to dilly-dally.
Cleaned, medicated the fungal lesion, piles, cuts, that’s three…
Pain, medicating the lesion send me cranky,
And Harold’s Haemorrhoids too, it took me a while,
Good job that I’ve got many a mans-nappie!

It’s Alto Inchie writing this verse; Inchcock did insist!
But, things got nasty for Inchy, the lyricist…
Stubbed his toe and started to update his word list…
He spent many hours on it, needed a wee, but had to desist…
Went to hit the save icon, and I missed…
Lost the file, and he sank to his saddest…
He almost cried; it must have been hard to resist…
Then he sank further and got depressed!

I lost six hours trying to get back my lost writing…
Couldn’t find it; I was confused, lost and dithering,
My previous determination started withering…
Duodenal Donald kicked off; it was appalling,
The whole incident was depressing and galling!
I believe that I was so low, beyond consoling…
I wondered, what’s the next thing that’ll need bungling?

Alto Again: It was sad to see Inchy being nigglier,
His computer works are getting much messier…
He didn’t look well. He seemed to me pastier…
The outlook for him to finish this ode is murkier,
And even he’s not usually a shirker, but a worker…
I can see in his eyes that he’s getting lower…
No point in talking to him until he feels betterer,
Hello, his door chimes rang out, in came a Carer…
He turned sourly around to see who it was, looking peakier,
His face lit up, his smile radiated, for it was Carer Sarah!
I could tell that he’d immediately got feeling friskier!

It was Carer Sarah who came to do me today,
This cheered me up, I have to say…
I lost all signs of acting acidulously…
Lovely gal, pretty and chatty,
I began to feel once again, altruistically,
I hope she comes again on Sunday!

Alto: Inchie knackered his computer and got in a shaking panic,
The idiot’s actions and bungled repairs were catastrophic,
He had trouble concentrating and was mnemic…
His moods all day were somewhat chameleonic.
Inchcock’s plans and thoughts were all semantic…
Yet he seemed to be taking it all phlegmatic…
In fact, he ended up feeling somewhat apathetic?
Then he found his legs had gone all phlebitic!
This is why some folks, quite rightly, consider him pilgarlic!.

Diary Saturday 14th May 2022

05:00hrs: I woke up with my bum half off of the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. The right leg on the floor, the left one on the arm of the recliner? A position that I could not physically get into on my own, even if someone offered me a million pounds to do it? Painfully I got my bum back up on the cushion, then tackled the left leg retrieval task! Have you seen that programme on the telly Truck Hell, where they have to retrieve HGVs after a crash? That’s like the task I had on.

I got it freed and the foot down on terra firma. Hehehe! It took me half an hour to achieve it.

Then, I noticed the right leg only had suffered a vein explosion. The first photo is of the front of the leg. I had a good look at it. There were no pains from the veins. Then I wondered about the back of the right leg. Got the Canon camera again and took a blind picture.

Aha, more veins showing through? On a closer look at the photograph, later on, it looked to me that last time, the surgeon who did them had left his name tattooed on the leg? Hehe! I’ll put this one on more prominent than usual to see what you think. It’s on the top right of the picture. Wonder what it is?

Ah, well, better get up; the Carer may be calling soon… and…

As I stood up to catch my balance, I knocked the camera off of the ottoman. I went into the bathroom to ready things for the ablutioning later on, and took this snap of the new marks on the face, this time! Then tried to take another snapshot of the morning view, but the camera didn’t have it. Sob!

It seemed to take the photo, but nothing was getting put on the SD card to view, other than this one and the legs? Miffed off, now! Another blog without many pictures, Humph!

I made up some waste bags, mashed a brew and got on the computer. And the morning carer appeared without ringing the buzzer and made me jump. Haha! Carer Sara was a pretty young thing, and she was sociable. ♥

On with the blog. I finished the update two hours later and posted it on Facebook. Went on Facebooking. Then the WP Reader, and comment reading and replying to.

The usual for the weekend. An increase in Herbert’s noise level. On and off all day, at times, I thought he must have hurt himself with the clanging and banging. At times, I could hurt him myself!

Got on with the Ode template for Saturday’s blog. But a disaster befell me…

I used two pages of saved words on Notepad and got on with selected suitable or better options. And the Peripheral Pete’s Neurotransmitters failed, as Shuddering Shoulder Shirley kicked in simultaneously. There was controlling my movements at all.

The arm shot across the keyboard with the left clicker pressed firmly down, hitting various keys as it went to my left, knocked the SD reader flying as the connector broke off, and it was all over in seconds, but it did a lot of damage, and worst of all, I lost all my words in the two files!

I then spent the following hours of the day trying to understand what the warning messages that came up meant and trying everything within my limited knowledge to find the missing files. No such luck! Photos not going on again.

Made a large meal and ate it all. Wee-wee. Carer Valerie called. Head down, but foolishly tried to watch a Dirty Harry film on the box… I did, in a way, but in about 25 episodes, I watched one each time I woke up and nodded off again!

Cheers!

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

MORNING THOUGHTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday 12th May 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Resigned to no internet availability from Fries again.

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

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

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

Inchcock Today: 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: At least I think it is…

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

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

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

Inchcock Today: Thursday 5th May 2022

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then on the blogging, and again…

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

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

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

Ode To The Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

 The Nottingham Lads Diary – with Odeing

Evening, all!

Inchcocks Local News Snippets – Issue 31⅕th

Issue 31⅕th

I’m pleased to be able to report,
This issue has less violence of a sort,
Minor stuff, no murders, that’s a comfort,
Cause I may find one later, to import…
There’s no need to feel distraught,
There’ll soon be more, for me to flaunt!

Here we go…

Mental Health Act, I worry about it a bit…
Many members of my family have known it…
Malcolm, and others, they have seen fit…
Locked up, losing their citizenship…
One chap, they even gave him the snip?
He hurt no one, ever, but he still got zapped?
Now my family have gone off to the crypt!

Yet none of them had committed rape or murder,
If the mentally ill are considered a danger…
Could we not have discovered this much earlier?
Stop waging war, spend money wiser…
I’m getting confused, I’m not a scaremonger…
Drug gangs, Putin, murderers, muggers and pillagers,
Greed for cash… to show off and swagger!

Nor am I in my right mind, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
I’ve not led a life, with very much adventure…
But the mentally ill can be more of a danger…
Cause we rarely find out, before they become a killer!
That they have a problem, but a lawyer is a great deluder…
Claiming mental problems, voices hear, trickery here!

As with the parole board, that frees many a murderer,
To kill again… can justice really be absurderer?
So many innocents, now laying in their sepulture…
Because of the legal system, and its pathetic nomenclature!

Life imprisonment, they get out in ten?
This is not rare, it’s happened so often…
Judges pretending that the case is disproven…
Like backhander taking referees, the Government to please,
Keep the scum out of prison, the cost does displease…
It’s cheaper to make them into parolees…
So they can murder again, and with such f’ing ease!

Fair enough, put her in hospital, to play with frisbees,
She can be assessed regularly, by overpaid committees?
She’s better now, all the parole board might agree…
They may say no, either way, it doesn’t bother their fees!
Will mental murders ever start to decrease…
Is the legal system bothered at all? That’s the wheeze!
I’m sure we could find a way to help earlier, Please!
Before we have yet another innocent, deceased!

Humankind, seem to be losing the ability for conferring…
As well as bantering, bartering, and also, discussing…
Although some other qualities, they are practising,
Like moaning, complaining, thumping, mugging…
Battering, stabbing, lying, cheating, conning…
Grovelling, drinking, drugging, belching, killing…
Bedevilling, befuddling, begalling, belittling…
Caterwauling, shoplifting, fiddling, crime and spitting,
They have taken to with eagerness, and willingness.

This violence is getting a little close to home mate!
Like Putin, who validates it’s okay to annihilate!
Drink, drugs and sex, can easily overstimulate,
They put men on the moon, dead cells rejuvenate…
Shame the proletariats’ brains won’t recalibrate!
Mistakes my those in power, they just replicate…
Knowing their failings are worse than Watergate!

Oh, yes?

Even closer to my Woodthorpe Court, great!
Burglaries, break-ins, what a spate…
I think I’ll hibernate and vegetate?
Till Jesus returns, not long to wait!

Conditional bail? Sounds dodgy, to me?
What are the conditions? What do they be?
Why have they let this animal roam free?
Justice is farcical, in this country!

I’ll try to follow this one!

Local Postcode Crimes v National

The NG5 4DZ Crime Map. Been busy ain’t they?

A scumball like that does not deserve a lawyer for free! At least he got a prat of a lawyer, who could only tell the judge that he’d been a good boy, in mitigation. With his record, how he got off so lightly just proves my saying that the law is an ass!

This Below is really sad… Heartbreaking!

Everyone is a loser!

RIP Ray Dixon

ROGUES GALLERY

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Inchcocks Thoughts – In Odes Issue 13⅓rd

In Odes, not good ones… but Odes!

The number of humans on this earth is 7.87 billion at this time…
On the global internet, the users add up to 4,321,740 and 9!
So your chance of your blog going viral is fine…
But don’t expect it, as I did, then found a steady decline!
I hope you do much betterer with thine!
My last one got two likes and comments; one was mine!

It’s Doreen Dementia and Liberty-Global I blame,
It’s fun to me, but it’s all money… a shame!
Their service is as much off as on, and it’s a game…
Farcically, ownership Liberty-Global disclaim!
Telling the call agents not to ever mention their name!

Liberty-Global owns Virgin; the boss should resign!
For Mr Fries knows not what he is doing…
Or though maybe he does, he makes money fine?
It’s overpaying mugs like me that he’s screwing…
His bosses think that everything is fine…
With Fries shadowy, manipulative money moving,
All on paper, mist and mirrors… this profit maker-divine!

A gorgeous gal wanted me in the early hours of this morning…
Of course, I knew that I was probably dreaming,
This very fact, I found a little perturbing…
She insisted on closer, passionate probing,
To my delight, she was acquiescing…
We were soon manipulating and bouncing,
She was ready and asked for another trouncing,
No problem for me, and I began eagerly disrobing,
But my performance, I think, was unconvincing…
Surely she should have been rejoicing?
And as her knickers, she was replacing…
I attempted some more romantic seducing…
I found it embarrassing what she was saying…
“I’ll not call again; there was no pain – Where’s this leading?
I’m just glad I was only dreaming!

I thought the visit before was on the wet side…
But this evacuation was even more undignified
I failed to get there on time, my aim was wide…
I cleaned things up, taking it all in my stride,
In doing this, I felt an iota of pride!

Cleaned, refreshed, but I went from Jekyll to Hyde,
As I started to get things all antisepticised…
I dropped the Germoloid after it had been applied…
And trod on it, swore, and boy, how I did self deride!
The contents squirted all over, and my frustration intensified!

But this Throne visit had yet another downside to it…
Leaving the wet room, I misjudged the width a little bit,
Missed hitting into the frame; I gave myself a little merit!
Stubbed my toe on the airer; fell, hitting under my armpit!
All this cause I urgently needed a flipping sh__!

Thought Storms Erupted

The Thought-Storms erupted, irking, they attacked,
Insults, fears, and failures were lurking and squirted…
Self-loathing, diffidence, vacillation were not appreciated
New worries, old ones, insecureness… amalgamated!
It’s Thought-Storms like this that are most hated!

The cause of the forebodings could not be authenticated,
For reasons, causes, I waited and waited, breath abated…
Nothing was solved, understood or elucidated…
The logic-testing thoughts, endlessly circumlocuted,
My mind was failing, nervous and bloviated!

My resistance was worn down, crumbling, it wilted…
My own thoughts could not be filtered…
However, slowly the tormenting mind vegetated,
Which was good; the brain needed to be rested…
Along came a new wave of dichotomies to be wherrited!

Inchcock Thought Storms – In Ode

Inchies Tips & Advice for Whippersnappers, Ablutionalisationings & Medicalisationings

ADVICE & TIPS ON FUTURE AILMENTS TO COME

I’ve given myself a challenge here… Where do I start?
Well, I don’t want to sound like a worrywart…
But you may like to put this guide on a wall chart,
Get prepared, to wee-wee, bleed a lot, and fart?
To the wet room, with ablutionalisationing, we’ll start…

Well, getting your clothes on and off, will be a work of art!
The socks removal will hurt in every leg part!
Pants and PPs, shirt and hat off, you’ll be knackered,
By the time you start teeth cleaning, paddy-whacked!
Then the toothpaste to extract…
Peripheral Pete causing shaking hands, distances inexact…
Toothpaste on your chin belly and feet… it’s a fact!

Nasal clearing, avoid catching the new pustulation…
And shaking hands, need careful manipulation…
Stabbing up the nose can cause a concussion!
Due to the dying nerve-ends neurotransmission!

Then the eyedrops, they miss each time, despite my best attention,
Evolve drips anywhere but the eyes; to the mouth, via obambulation,
Oh, while I think about it, you’ll have to have a fundoplication!
Shaving’s the next job, which always causes apprehension!

You’ll cut yourself several times, no need for overreaction…
The Brut aftershave serves as a blood stopper medication!
Mind you, it stings, you’ll swear in protestation,
It’s just another necessary daily ritualisation!

Then comes, the dangerous part, of showering!
It’s no good fearing, and cowering…
It must be done, like an everyday thing!
Dizzy Dennis arrives, you stop the soaping…
Then drop the loofah, bend in retrieving…
Hit your bonce on the powerbox, your heads now reeling…
Loss of balance sometimes, a usual old folk feeling…
Then you often find yourself falling…
But getting back up is more appalling and galling,
Usually, you’ll drop things again…
But, to avoid any more pain,
You’ll kick it away, then you may start talcing?
Till you stub your toe, then start cursing!
But there are more things yet, that will be paining!

No mirrors in the wet room, I mention tactfully,
For fear, you’ll see your flabby midriff’s rotundity,
Which will bring on the depression, for a certainty,
You’ll find spotting your reflection, rather dismally,

Little Inchies Fungal Lesion will need ointmenting,
Especially if it’s been leaking and bleeding!
The certainty of agony needs acknowledging…
Some think this procedure, is bestiality, brutality…
I can tell yer, I don’t think about affectionately!
And I don’t tackle the job exactly bravely!

Arthur Itis knees to be Phorpained, to lessen rheumatically,
An easy enough task, although the limbs can get greasy…
It’s the Phorpain Gel, the box says it’s liable to flammability?
Still, a good massage and rubbing in seems to work easily.

MedPhorpain

The Germoloiding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids is a pleasure,
Always effective, instant relief, this ointment is a treasure!
But you can’t buy it when on a Special Offer…
Full price, cause the makers, want to fill their coffer…

You’ll be able to get a cream on the NHS, Anusol, but it’s crap,
And you’ll need to wear sunglasses and a hat…
Use walking aids, hearing aids, spectacles, blind as a bat!
Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades will be begat!
I’m getting mixed up here, where was I at?

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
As you grow decrepit and old, it’s the truth!
There is no way to make things accident-proof…

I named Accifauxpas, to such incidents as the above,
Having digits etc. bruised, and cut, you may not approve,
But incident rates will never improve…
There is no to make things foolproof…

But there is a way, to ease them and help make them better!
You don’t believe me? I can hear you mutter!
But clean the wound, Give it a Germolene smother…
As antiseptics go, there is none betterer…
It soothes and cools wounds with no palaver…
Keep a tube in the first aid box, it’s a good manoeuvre!

You’ll lose any skill you had at handcraftsmanship,
Sewing, darning, woodwork, sculpting, or need a replacement hip,
A new knee or two, a mechanical ticker, ready for the crypt…
So when things start to fail and collapse, don’t lose your grip!.

Don’t look back at the days when you were nonhandicapped!
Or even when you could risk being back slapped,
Or when you were capable of being able and schlepped…
It’s important for you to be able to adapt!

You’ll only compare things, with now and then,
Your mental and bodily decline, remembering girls like Gretchen?
Your confidence, comparative memories, do not enrichen!
In fact, they have been known to bring on depression!
Recalling the romances, victories, how many were they, ten?
Your first fumbling grope – can you remember who and when?
The Auntie who always bathed you… you were happy then!
But such days will never return again…
Have you still got love letters, written with a pen?
The name of your very first kitten?
Or the first dog by which you were bitten?

When your life was considered to be sublime, Utopian…
Some details will be embedded in your brain, unforgotten…
But many of them inspire things you think were rotten!
Actions and decisions that were taken by you; were you forgiven?
Or like me; having Thought Storms of guilt and derision?

There is an ailment that can free you from making many a decision…
Vascular Dementia Doreen, she’s good at memory suppression,
Also, she jumbles up numbers and dates, like a statistician…
Or mayhaps, more like a politician?
That reminds me, the Dentist and Optician…
Appointments to cancel, that’ll cause derision,
Is it a pediatrican or maybe a metaphysician?
I might be better off with a dietician or magician?

Cataract Surgery is my latest thing worrying,
Two Phacoemulsification operations or something,
Then Glaucoma operations in both eyes…
Then there’s Saccades procedure right eye,
But worrying about it is not very wise
Seeing an assessor on 3rd May waited five months, irking,

So by the time you Whippersnappers get to my age,
The NHS will be a memory, but you should manage…
Unless there is a world war again, violence is savage!
The private owners of the hospital will add a surcharge…
£200 for a bandage, £30 to be unbandaged, if you haemorrhage…
£50 a pint lost, and for cleaning up there’ll be an added charge…
An entrance fee if you have to use the triage…
Visitors will be charged, £35 an hour on average…
£40 a cup of tea, £60 for coffee, £40, for other beverages…
Medications, an Aspirin at £35, according to dosage…
Visitors can have a variable-priced massage…
Grizelda £45, William too, either-way Brenda, £200 with frottage!

I think I got carried away there, sorry!

Inchcock Today: Decision-Making Ode

Decision-Making Ode

To give up and let whatever will be, be,
Inchcock needs help, an advisee…
His confidence is low, can’t hear nor see correctly,
Sorting timing and transport problems presently…
Memory and mind blanks are persistently…
Worryingly scary words, guilt at being so portly?
Can’t communicate… he’ll need help shortly…

He’d like assistance without condescension…
Problems with his hobbling obamulation,
Going out? His last two trips caused panic hortation,
He wee-weed himself, oh, vociferation!

Staying in now, he expects a call from the hospital,
Missing it could be fatal… to the depression, he’d hurtle!
His mind’s confused; it does justle and jostle …
Poor old sausage… he worries more than a little!

Before the stroke, he was no mathematician…
Now he needs the help of a physician…
What can he do? He struggles in making a decision!
Mind blanks and tumbling seem his new religion?

Appointment with the can’t test him yet, optician,
Cataract ops first to correct his vision.
Same with his local dentician…
Good job, he hasn’t got a cosmetician! (Haha!)

Small print from the NHS and bank in unison…
This means letters and texts have little comprehension,
Causing the lad even more worry and tension,
He really needs looking at by a diagnostician!

He drew his fretting to the attention of the warden,
Feeling embarrassed, to him begging, is alien…
Warden Deana arrived for a helping me out session,
Who arranged transport for me? My thanks and veneration!.

Then, he felt cared for and cheerier, no question!
So, time to fret over other things, like his fundoplication,
shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchies Fungal lesion…
And the Cataracts forthcoming double operation…
Hid new rear-end boils, a painful conglomeration…
Also, Inchcock’s ear-holes blockage and tintinnabulation…
Worry about his glaucoma and banks documentation,
Not to mention his bank accounts dwindling emancipation!

Deana was his Carpathia, saving lives on the Titanic,
Although Inchie still looks like he’s going brassic…
Her help today was something of a tonic…
His life no longer seemed so chronic!

He even started whistling, although not acoustic,
It’s never been his most vital attribute, singing…
Then again, he’s always been gently altruistic,
Soft and daft as a brush from a yearling…

Inchcock’s Educationing

He missed out on schooling and educationing.
He’s never grasped algebra, geometry or arithmetic,
Yet he’s always had a yearning, desire for learning…
As a lad, he’d double pneumonia, constantly sick…
I don’t know how he ever made a living?
He was well-known as a bit of a schmendrick!
Always getting beaten up or something…
Mother ever being taken down to local nick…
He was spotty, with the littlest ever ding-a-ling…
He took a lot of verbal and physical stick,
So it didn’t bother him that he couldn’t sing.

He coped with thumps and insults from many a bully?
He was a whimp who never answered aggressively…
He plodded on, hiding from being treated abusively…
There was little he ever achieved, ruefully…
Scared of water, he played hooky every Thursday…

That was the swimming lesson day, nobody noticed…
For two years of playing hooky, he was not missed,
Dad took him to the fair and visited a hypnotist…
I think it should have been to a psychiatrist,
The 11-plus, Mummy was on the run, so that he missed,
In meaningless employment, he languished,
But he grew up the shabbiest; he became a motorcyclist!
When old enough, he became an alcoholic, always pissed!
Oddly enough, it’s similar now… he’s still not missed,
He wears protection pants; he’s pissed at always pissing!

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

Aha, got some photos uploaded!

I believe this was Wednesday’s nosh. Of microwave veggie sausages, disappointing Icelands crispy chips (That weren’t), and red and orange tomatoes. Not too bad a plateful. Taste: 6.6/10.

Wednesday’s sunset. I’m finding it hard to stay up for the later evenings now the clocks have been forwarded (I’ve even got all on mine done now… Haha!) Variations on a theme, I’m calling it.

Thursday morning rising.

Wen to make a brew of Glengettie. And I spotted from the kitchenette window the rather heavy rain that was raining down,

I took this shot through the narrow bottom pane of glass, camera up against the window. Gave it a different aspect… which reminded me of Grizelda (Slight movement in the lower regions).

Took the last two a few hours later on Thursday.

Incidentally, at this point, I took my eleventh wee-wee of the morning. Cor, blimey!

Three more wee-wees and an hour or so later, I went to mash the second mug (Thompsons’ Punjana this time) of tea. I snapped this one of the houses in front of the tower block.

I must say, it came out reasonably well. An accurate representation of the local dwelling at the front of Woodthorpe Court flats.

The rain was a lot lighter at last, as it shimmers on the roadway of what I think is Elmswood Gardens… a sort of modern-day Coronation Street… perhaps not!

Afternoon Chestnut Way ends car park investigation. The parkers, the red-van-man, continued with his fear of white guidelines for parking between, then I went to the kitchenette to assess the choice of vehicle colours.

The evening Carer arrived, treats were offered. Got ready to get my head down and took what I guesstimate as my 24th wee-wee of the day. Hope things calm down soon!

TTFN.

Inchcock Today: Cock-Ups Supreme! Sat 27th Mar 22

Due to the cock-ups – mishaps, Failing to change the clocks, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpa and two tumbles; This may be a little shorter, less detailed than I would have liked. On the other hand, I might stay up late and do better… I did! Sorry.

05:30hrs (Well, I thought it was at the time): I stirred back into a pretend-life after a terrible night of shooting awakes. Yes, I’d forgotten to retake the Hemp capsule last night!

However, I wasn’t in bad nick after working out the time (Wrongly at it happens then), rose up, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey, and meandered slowly into the kitchenette to put the kettle on. Not easy for me nowadays, with foolishly choosing which one to use does not come easily for me. I decided not to make one yet and get the ablutionalisationing done instead. But needs meant a slight alteration of plans…

Well, it went pretty well! An excellent start to the days’ activities. There is no bleeding, not too much-forcing things to kick-off moving, and minimal pain. It was one of the easiest evacuations for a while. Just a little Dizzy Dennis visit as I was rising from the Throne. Fetched the togs and towel into the wet room and stripped ready for a stand-up wash, shave, teggies, etc. It was too early to use the shower yet, for fear of disturbing other tenants with the noise of the shower unit.

Oh, the ankles were looking a little weather-beaten on both legs. Well, they would be on the legs, I suppose… Hahaha! Fool! The colouring of the tootsies changed from undressing, showering and putting the socks on. (See photos on the left)

This morning, cleaning the teeth was not easy due to the broken tooth hurting when the brush touched around the molar area. I gave them a lighter cleaning. Still, it’s been worse. Then on to the danger zone, the shaving! I lathered up well, checked the blades were still sharp and started…

It may surprise you, it did me… not a single cut! Got the body scrubbing done without anything untoward occurring and then washed the delicate areas.

Bit of bad news here, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding, so a painful experience had to be endured. This month, the Daktacort ointment had been swapped for a new one on the prescriptions. So, never having used this brand before, I gritted my teeth and agonisingly (Phimosis) made room for the ointment to be smoothed into the wound…

Grrreat! Despite things going so well! There was no stinging at all from the lotion, but it took much longer than usual for the bleeding to stop, so no Smug-Mode yet.

I had the usual struggle to get the socks on, but I was determined not to use Sock-Glide-Glenda! I thought, well, the Carer will be here shortly.

So, I went on the balcony and took a photo of the end car park, curious to see how the red van man had parked… Blimey, another red vehicle, had parked in red-van mans’ usual illegal parking space on the chevrons.

Red van man had parked legally and correctly… that’s the first time in four months I’ve seen this; I felt pretty honoured. Hehehe! I think the white vehicle at the far end has been there for a long time now?

Carer Chaymae arrived. We greeted each other, and she got the medications sorted and put them in my hand…

Oh, flippin’ ‘eck! The bottle dropped when Peripheral Pete gave me a shaking, straight down spraying water all over me, my socks and trousers onto the floor; Trying to catch the bottle,  I fell knocking over the waste bin and clunked Cathy Cartilages knee as I hit the deck! Carer Chaymae got me back on my feet and picked up the now almost empty from a full water bottle, Tsk! The gal departed with a treat in thanks from me.

On to the computer… and the first of up till now… three Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet failures!

Liberty-Global boss Mike Fries strikes again!

Faffling about getting nowhere with the Liberty-Global crap, net going down repeatedly, I somehow completed yesterday’s blog and sent it off.

I gave up and went to get a mug of Glengettie… What a pillock! I noticed the things on the side I’d put there to make Josie’s meal with… Worse, the watch told me it was 13:15hrs! I was ashamed at failing to get her meal to her on time for the first time ever! I went to her flat but could get no response to ringing the chimers… embarrassed, frustrated and self-loathing was brewing up.

It didn’t help to listen to the bang-bang-away Herbert while I was tensed up.

I called at Josies’ again, and she answered this time, what a revelation this was to me, Humph! I mumbled an apology, and I explained my idiocy in forgetting, and she was very calm about it and asked: “Did you forget to put your clock forwards?” This made me feel a bigger plonker than I already felt! I’d forgotten about the clock changing again this year, fell arse over tit, lost my reading glasses, the internet was crashing all the time, I could feel the blood coming from Little Inchies Lesion! I was not feeling too proud of myself at all!

Panicking, I hastened to get Josies’ meal prepped and served.

I did not want to spoil it by rushing too much, though, so it was about an hour before it was served up and ready for delivery.

I delivered it to her, she said, “It’s too much! You have me looking like Betty Bunter!” Bless her, she says that nearly every week. 💕

Now, I need to unwind… ah, an odd choice of words that. But it reminded me I had to change the three watches, put them forward an hour. Crap, lost another hour! Hehehe!

I took three photos from the kitchenette window of the rather beautiful looking clouds in the sky.

Then set about making a snack; I don’t feel like creating a proper meal. Summat friendly and easy will do me fine, now let’s look at what’s available… Haddock fish cakes, fishcake with pea topping, and the crispy chips will do me. Yes, the last of the chips and some fishcakes will do nicely. Especially as they all need the same time cooking.

Fish tea prepped and served. And I tucked into it with a relish, and I gobbled up the lot of it. Slowly, to get satisfaction from the delightful taste. Heap flavourful! A rating of 804/10, given.

The evening Carer called and got me sorted, just starting her shift, poor thing.

The darkness dawned as I was washing the pots, and I managed to get a shot of the sun setting, which only lasted for about three minutes? I was beginning to feel a little cheerier when…

While listening to the tap-tapping coming from above as I went to put the dishes into the wall cupboard, I had a first-ever for me, incident, event.

I know I was feeling tired, but I still cannot work out how I managed to do this…  – I put the stick down on my foot, not the floor? Automatically, as a reaction, I pulled the foot away, sent the stick (Not Metal Mickey, I was using Wooden Walter at the time), flying and giving myself a decent toe-stubbing at the same time on the cupboard corner beneath the sink. Which made me think…

Have I always been so unlucky? Yes, I think…
I recalled one-day playing solo tiddlywinks,
I got a splinter that turned septic in a blink!
Turned black and didn’t half pen and ink!

Double-pneumonia at three, blood in the pee…
Can’t remember it, but later Dad told me…
Got a part acting in the Chapel matinee,
I knocked over a candle, fire, folks did flee!
I didn’t go again; me and the Vicar did agree!

We went to Skegness, by the sea…
Go-Karting available, for the first time, you see…
Only one was tipped over… of course, by me!
Life even then was not trouble-free…
Ever since, I’ve Whoopsiedangleplopped consistently,

I’m proud to say, now in my decrepity…
Not many folks lived life so discordantly,
I’ve produced constant defeats and failures diligently…
I can expect daily doses of foul-ups, errors & calamity!
No signs of things getting better – disquietingly…

Keep Safe and, above all, Smiling!