Inchcock, Nottingham’s Answer To Haemorrhoids – Tuesday 1st December 2020

One of the Younger TFZers! Haha! ♥

Tuesday 1st December 2020

Maori: Turei 1st o Tihema 2020

03:30hrs: Sometimes, one isn’t really, too keen on getting up, and would rather just lay there, and uhtceare instead, trying to avoid any dangerous or serious signs of any expergefactor that may be lurking. This was one of those mornings.

The oh, so late getting to sleep after yesterdays farcicalness, favourable moments, and frustrations, meant only four hours kip, and annoyingly when I did wake, it was one of those jump-awake ones. Cragnangles!

I rose from the recliner onto my feet, in need of a  wee-wee, and hobble to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and on the first shuffle of the feet, got an electric-shock like stabbings of pains from the papule underneath the left foot. I’ll have a check on it later, the plaster may have come off in the night and is pulling at the pimple?)

The Sainsbury’s substituted wrong-sized Protection Pants had not handled the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble), and AMD (After-Micturition-Dribble) well, at all. Also, they held less comfort and were not very warm to wear. Thank you, dear silly-Substitutes Lord Sainsbury, Baron, and Knight of the Garter. I hope your personal wealth increases from the current £1.4 billion. Carry on with stupid substitutes and it will. Better hurry though, after all, you are 93!

I went into a sort of auto mode then. Washed my hands, into the kitchenette and put the kettle on. I took some pictures from the unwanted, unliked, light & view-blocking new windows, to first try and get a decent shot of the moon. On taking the first effort, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) paid me a visit and left me with this almost looking like a lightning snap. So, had another bash, and got a fairish result.

I got a reasonable zoomed in a bit shot, of Sherwood, with Basford, Perry Road HMP, and the lights from Bulwell and the motorway on the horizon. (I know you can’t see them, but it makes me sound cleverer, Hahaha!) Then a blind shot of the car park below on Chestnut Walk, only one red car this morning. (I hope Billumski The Chairman and Director of the RCMS from Utah is making a note of this) As I got the brew of Glengettie made, SSS returned, and sheer good luck with her timing, meant no spillages or Accifauxpas. Good luck? For me, and so early in the day…? Nae, this can’t be right! You can take it from me, via my EQ, that summat Whoopsiedangleplopish is in the air and on the way!

I got the sphygmomanometer out, and the machine needed three goes to get it to work. Mind you, the reading was down a smidge more, for the third day on the trot! But I’m not getting excited about it, not with my luck. Egads, no!

The Chinese made contactless thermometer, made with plastic from India, and imported from Soth Korea, showed a temperature of 36.2° c. Which I think is not too bad at all. 

I got the medications out, and realised I had yet again, not taken last night’s! So, I did. Must remember to take the morning ones later on. Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got the computer on. I had to divert to the Porcelain Throne, then.

And, what a change in style that was today! I got seated, as directed by the gastroenterologist had advised me… well, commanded me really! The wait for any action to start was a long one. That’s when I got the crossword book from the cabinet. After an aeon or two of puzzling, I adopted the recommended straightening of the lower back while I was leaning and pushing the shoulders… Nothing happened… Apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda)  starting to give me a pasting! Granglesbognessbuggerit! I think she was still annoyed at my tumble last night.

Once a slight motion, a forced pone though, was felt, slowly, grindingly and needing painful encouragement, things eventually moved… reluctantly, painfully, and at a snail’s pace! I was close the giving out a, Argh!, but held it back.

No doubt about it, Trotsky Terence was whipped 5-0 by Constipation Konrad this time.

As I rose from the seat to have a decker at what had caused all this agony, I was taken aback by the amount of blood that had exited. I got myself cleaned up, washed the tender areas, and applied some very welcome Germoloid ointment to Harold’s Haemorrhoids! You should have seen my walk back to the kitchen, well, maybe not!

In keeping with my fantasmagorical luck, I now had several additional ailments to contend with all at the same time, which made hobbling somewhat difficult. Still, it must have been most hilarious for anyone to watch. The head was aching a bit from the fall, the lower back was being taken care of by a particularly, violent BPB, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids have rarely been more painful! Then Dizzy Dennis joined in as I was in the hallway – not again, I prayed! I don’t think I would be able to get back up again if I did topple over now.

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, each one I’ve made has gone cold for one reason or another. Humph! I was showing no signs of wanting any breakfast today. But I did take an extra Dioctyl® poo-softener capsule (And another one later!)

I concentrated of updating the Monday blog. It took a while, and some odd noises were coming from somewhere nearby, sounded like someone was dropping wooden blocks repeatedly? I might be something going down the chute a little early? Anyway, I got the post finished and sent off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and went on Pinterest, and it was soon time to get the ablutions done.

I took this shot of the moon on my way to the wet room.

At last, a decentish ablution session. It had it’s moments though. The dropsies were about average, I reckon.

The shaving was smidge hair-raising, and that’s not easy when you have no hair! Hahaha!

All the cuts and nicks were from the back of the neck. It’s not fair hair growing there and nowhere else! Snigger!

No shower today, the Iceland order is due, oh, and the Amazon PPs might be arriving today. After an easy medicationing session and getting dressed, I hand-washed the long-sleeve tee-shirt.

The day was breaking and the sky clearing, an amazing colour too. I managed to get a reasonably decent shot of the late moon before it disappeared.

Suddenly it very busy! The intercom rang, it was the Amazon man with the PP’s for me. He came up and put them in the hallway for me. Followed by the Iceland driver, he also put the bags into the hallway for me, bless ’em both.

I took the carriers through to the kitchen, intending to sort out the frozen and fresh stuff first. But I was so interested in seeing the new PP’s I couldn’t resist sorting them first instead.

I got the box onto the server in the kitchen and struggled a bit to get the plastic cover off of the box. It was only thin material, but by gum it strong!

I got it off in the end! I wish they would sell them of this strength to use as bin bags, I made up[ waste bags as I went along.

The three packs of eight looked similar to the other ones from Sainsbury’s, but were cheaper and the correct size.

I’ll try them on afterwards I thought, then changed my mind, I’d got the Sainsbury ones on at the time. They are not very warm and a little small, if I had a bad leakage, I don’t think they would cope with the amount of blood. I put them in the wet room with the others and sorted the groceries out.

Oh, dearie me, what have I done here? I’d ordered in error, two bags of the frozen meatballs, also two of the fish strips in the batter. I imagine because they were on offer if you bought two, I’d unthinkingly ordered two of each. No way will I have space in the freezer for them all! I struggled to make room for one of each in the freezer.

I’ll see if Jenny can use the others. The other bits went in the fridge, okay, mind. I cleared up[ a bit (when I say a bit, I mean it! Haha!), and got the bags with the fodder in, and a box of waste-bags on the trolley.

I set out, with intentions of going to Jennys (I phoned her on my way, with my new Samsung-Galaxy S20 Ultra-mobile, 512MB, £1,399 for 128GB storage, with its gargantuan 6.9in display, and hole-punch camera, and ‘Space Zoom 100x’), and then to go and see Deana and Julie, then back to the flats and put the rubbish bags in the waste chute. But life is never that clear-cut for a twit like me!

Then a series of Inchcock-Hiccups followed!

I dropped the bag at Jenny’s, bless her, she said she’d keep the fish and meatballs in her fridge of a few days until I get the room in my freezer, to take them back. Appreciative of Jen’s help, and feeling in higher spirits now, I set of in the lift down to the ground floor. I met the caretaker, and he took the bags off of me. After a little natter, I limped along Chestnut Way to Winwood Court, and Deana’s Interrogation Cells. (Haha!)

As I arrived at the Winwood doors, I realised I had left the wrong bag with Jenny! What a pillock! So I had to go back to Jenny’s to swap the carriers. She was very understanding about it and met me at the door, and we exchanged the containers. I was feeling a little silly, but worse was to come later!

I made my way back down and out to Winwood Court again. As I approached the lobby, I realised I did not have a keyfob with me. Glory-Be and Granglesbognessbuggerit!!! Then a stroke of luck! A workman was entering the building, and I tagged on behind him and got in! Had a chinwag with Deana and Julie, told them of my cock-ups, that made them laugh.

Back to Woodthorpe Court. Where Robert let me in through his side door! And I made my way back up to the flat. I was feeling rather foolish at my Accifauxpas and was beginning to get annoyed with myself.

I made a brew of Glengettie, surely this time, I can get to drink one? But, no! Not yet! Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters let me down, just I picked up the brewed mug of tea – on the Silver lining side, the mug fell in the plastic waste bin and not the floor, so didn’t break! Unfortunately, I scolded my wrist and spilt tea on my trousers, which didn’t do the legs any favours! Then I had to clean everything up! I was tired out and on the verge of getting depressed now!

Gone my head-down time. But, Jenny had told how to cook the meatballs, I had planned to have chips with them, but cooking the balls in the oven, I decided on having potatoes, peas and gravy. I got the oven on. And checked on comments on WordPress

I’ll get the meal served up then. Fingers crossed. Jenny was right when she told that doing the meatballs in the oven, they would come out crispy. They did, and I liked them. Added them to the peas and potatoes in the big saucepan, made some thick gravy and added it to the mix, and warmed through. Got the pots made a mess off washed, stirring the mix in between. Got it dished up and enjoyed the Flavour-Rated 7/10 meal with some bread thins to soak up the gravy—a lemon yoghourt for afters. I was getting more and more tired, so I got up to get the pots washed properly, in case I fell asleep and dropped the tray etc.

Settled in the recliner, drained mentally, wanting to free the eyelids to do what comes naturally. The absence of any Thought-Storms was appreciated. But the vacuum left in my hypnagogic state was filled with a blankness that was not blank… hard to explain. Still, weird worries drifted in, and, more disturbingly, were treated with contempt and annoyance at their even being there?

I must have fallen asleep, cause I woke up at 02:20hrs.

Inchcock, Nottingham’s Catnapping, Somnolence expert: Sunday 29th November 2020

I’m sending wishes through the ether, that this will happen! ♥

Sunday 29th November 2020

Sunday 29th November 2020

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01:30hrs: I stirred, and was amazed to find I had slept for over five uninterrupted hours – and this after the night before’s mammoth sleep-in? I seem to have changed suddenly from an insomniac to a narcoleptic? Why I ask? I’m still waiting for an answer. Hehehe!

The mind seemed to be more responsive as well, the thoughts seemed more apparent when I talked to myself. A degree of uncustomary determination lingered as well; The Sainsbury order is due early today, Josie’s meal needs preparing and delivering, and I recalled that I’d put the new tube of Germoloid in the wet room.

I was a smidge disappointed in myself when I saw the untaken evening pot of medications still on the Ottoman, though. I mused for a few seconds, on why I am suddenly missing so many night tablets so often? But got no reply from the brain, which decided that a mug of Glengettie tea was more important.

So, I removed my overly-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, dirty, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, rusty, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and up onto the feet to catch my balance. And this, usually a struggle at times, even causing Accifauxpas, was done with fantastic ease! Grabbed Metal-Micky, and was so glad I did, cause, en route to the kitchen, I had a bit of a wobbly, had I not got the stick, I could easily have gone over. I put the kettle on.

Musing over what a mixed start to the day it’d been so far, and I’d only been up for a few minutes? It was foggy outside, and it looked so cold with it, I decided against taking any open window photographs.  Made the brew, and back to the ottoman get the Health Checks done, all in auto-mode.

The sphygmomanometer needed a couple of tries to get it to work. The first effort indicated I’d snuffed it. Hahaha! But at least try two showed the SYS was down a tad, to 160. The thermometer showed a lower temperature too, at 36.1°c.

My aboulomania flourished, as I thought about what to do about the missed medications. I took the evening ones as I did yesterday, and must remember to take the morning ones later on. 

Then, as I turned, I hit my head on the corner of the door. Not badly, I’ve had many worse ones, but it seemed to spark a change in my everyday routine?

Instead of getting on with the computerisationing as I always do after the balance, and health checks and medication taking: Amazingly, I got the dark blue zip-up jerkin hand-washed? All done, wrung and hung on the coathanger to dry, but why?

Got the computer on, and instead of cracking on with the IT diary updating, I went on Facebook updating?

Finally, I went onto the updating of the Diary. A long job, but as Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) and Saccades-Sandra were all in a good mood with me, I got it completed reasonably quickly. (This was worrying – something going right!)

Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, off to the wet room. The daily battle between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad was a massive defeat for Konrad, 4-0. Talk about yucky, a monstrous, messy, mass, manoeuvred into the bowl. A lot of effort needed to clean things furniture-wise and bodily followed—a good wash around, and back to the Computer.

Posted the diary off to WordPress. Emailed the link, and Pinterested a few snaps from the post. Then made a start on this template.

Around 06:00hrs, I heard a shuddering clunk, it sounded like it was from close-by. I had a poddle around in my bestest Sherlock Holmesian style, but could not find what it was that caused it? I hope no one has had a fall above me.

I started this writing for a while but had to stop. The ablutions needed doing, so I would be all prepared in time, in the case of the Sainsbury order arriving on the button at eight o’clock.

Back in a bit… I hope!

I’m back! I got sidetracked again going to get the ablutions done. I went hand-washing mad again. (No, I don’t know why either, it must be the bang on the head? Hehehe!)

I have to say, although it was a stand-up wash and shave, it went tremendously well. No teeth problems, only one cut shaving, only two items knocked off of the cabinet and no more than ten dropsies in total. More good fortune! (Even more worrying, especially with the Sainsbury order coming, overcharging and bad subs will almost certainly come with the food? – My EQ has just warned me!)

As I was getting staggering around getting dressed, and putting on a slipper, a sharp pain was felt underfoot! The sort you get when you stand on something sharp, or a shard of glass. It was hard-work, painful, plaguy and galling, taking a photo of the wound. The Robert Morley like stomach tended to get in the way, Haha! I think it was a new papule coming up. Gawd it didn’t half sting when I put the foot down.

Sorry about the photo coming out in mono. Yet another mysterious wonder of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Spectres, Spirits, Spooks, Eidolons, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their Satanic mission, to hinder, scare, blight, embarrass, manacle, and throw a spanner in Inchcocks works, plans, hopes, and confidence! Which they succeeded in, but they usually do!

I took some photographs from the unliked kitchenette window. The fog (when writing this six hours or so later) only got thicker as the day went on. Oh, dear!

Then I got the hand-washing finished off, the green quilt I’d left to soak in the sink bowl. I rang it out as best I could, and got it on the stand-up clothes airer in the hallway, being careful not to hang over the electricals at the bottom. Not everyone can say that, Hehehe!

Back into the Steptoe & Son-like front room, and got the computer back on.

Incidentally, the wee-wees were few and far between today. I just thought I’d mention it like.

Moments later, the intercom rang out and lit up. T’was the Sainsbury order arriving. The driver’s first words were; “Sainsbury order, are you coming down to pick the stuff up?” I gave an “Oh… well, I’ll have to, I suppose!” I farted about getting a mask on, and the intercom went again. The driver asked if we had a lift. I said yes, and he said he’d bring the stuff up then. Thank heavens for that!

He arrived, just as I had a dizzy at the front door, he showed concern and unloaded the good into the box and two bags (As orders go, this was a biggun!) Then he carried them through to the kitchen for me. I thanked him, then got the paperwork out, to see what was what, substitution wise.

Well, there were a few concerns. The PP’s (Protection-Pants), had been substituted with smaller-size ones!

Plus, they were different from each other? I’d ordered two large size packets, but these were both medium-sized ones.

Now, I know that Sainsbury’s say you can return any substituted items not suitable. But would they appreciate my asking the driver to wait, while I go in the wet room, to try on a pair of pants – find they are too small, then put them back in the pack, sellotape it up, and hand them back to the driver for returning? I think not!

Then there was the lamentable, regrettable, disappointing, ill-advised, and stupid replacement for the delicious Potato cakes, Pikelets! Humph!

JS Pikelets, the only similarity being that they both have six items in the packet! I’d have thought the clue, ‘Potato’ might have prevented such an idiotic, inane, imbecilic, exasperating substitution, but no! (I think J Sainsbury and Morrisons are competing to get the annual, SSOTY (Stupidest-Substitution-of-the Year award). From my experience, it is a draw at the moment. They could have subbed with Irish Potato Farls, surely?

Thank heavens I ticked the ‘No Substitution’ option for the toothpaste, else I may have had a jar of pickled walnuts delivered, as well!

The Milk Roll loaf had one days life on it! Oh, and plain digestive biscuits came covered in chocolate. But I’m not complaining about that, there is a chance or even likelihood, that I ordered the wrong one, so fair do’s on that score.

Not that these idiotish, inane, illogical, crass, unreasoned, banal, piss-taking substitutions bother me too much, of course! Knackwrangles!

I set about sorting the food etc. and trying to find some room, I’d rather overdone it again. Not on the fresh stuff, mind. I’ve been caught out with short dates and bonkers substitutes that often this year, from JS and Morrisons.

The only thing that pleased me was that they had sent the cheapo (60p) Chilli-Con-Carne, (Morrisons had substituted their (59p) one, with £2.58 substitutes!) 

So, now I have a good stock of CCC in the kitchen, not the cupboard, that is already full. Hehehe!

Also, the can of Fray Bento’s meatballs in Chilli sauce, that can now be added to a tin that Hubbard’s (Sainsbury own label) Chilli Con Carne, making an easy peasy meal one day soon?

I’ll not starve for a bit, anyway. I may have a heart attack or another stroke, but still, it’s summat to look forward to – the Chilli, not the snuffing it! Glad I cleared that up!

I got the waste bags sorted onto the box on the trolley to go to the waste chute.

Then sorted the unwanted good from J Sainsbury’s crap substitutes and my possible (I think it was!) error on the chocolate biscuits I shouldn’t eat. Ahem! To take them down to Jenny’s, with some treats for Nora and Frank of the alcoholic variety. Hehe!

Of I poddled down in the lift to deliver the unwanted crap substitutes from J Sainsbury’s to Jenny’s. Who can use them as part of her charity, or whatever? They always get used to help others, with Jenny in control. Bless her!

I made a call before leaving, to Jen, to moan, lament, and bicker about the substitutions again. Hehe! And let her know I was on my way. Down and delivered them, back up and put the stuff in the waste chute on my floor.

I had a look on the Wilko site, as Jenny suggested to see if they had any PPs on sale. It was a £50 limit to get free delivery, or a minimum £10 charge. They only had a couple of men’s pants, and they were not cheap.

So I went on Amazon for a look-see what they had. I found these Tena ones, at £1 a disposable pair. I ordered some on Special Price, it said they were a new make. I just hope I’ve not ordered the wrong things again. They are at least a large size.

I then tended to prepare Josie’s meal sorted out. It was hard work doing it up today, not sure why. The cheesy potatoes were a little loose, I’d but in too much butter. But I think she likes them like that.

I delivered the meal eight minutes earlier than usual to Josie’s door, and there was no answer. Just as well, cause I’d forgot to take a photo of her Sunday feast. I nipped back in and took this shot and returned to her door and rang the bells again. I was greeted with; “You are early!” Hehehe! She laughed and inspected the fodder. It seemed to pass muster, she said she liked the fish Surami sticks, and the can of Rum and whatever went down well.

Please, I came back to the flat, did the washing up from the first nosh, and started updating the blog. Gawd this took me hours and hours! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters had kicked off, creating error after mistake after cock-up! It was a frustrating time, and in the end, I had to give up.

I got my nosh going. I’m sure I’d ordered some battered fish on Iceland’s order, so to make room for them in the freezer, I had some, with the potato letters and peas.

I was suddenly all in again. No concentration left, and the right side of me was jumping and jerking, shoulder (SSS), and leg, which was threatening to do a Neuropathy Pete involuntary right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance. But it didn’t, just stayed with its mini-palpitations throbbing away to its heart’s content.

I’ll have to finish this in the morning.

Good morning!

I got the nosh prepared, not sure how I didn’t fall asleep doing it, though. I was wearied, worn-out and worryingly hebetudinous. But, hunger helped me continue. The meal was worth 6.5/10, no doubt a reduced rating, due to my being so done-in.

I tucked in, then fell asleep after eating the meal. Woke a few minutes later thinking it was time to get up, I edged my Billy Bunter body and saw the pot of yoghurt laying unbroken, where it had rolled to, on the carpet. A dilemma now; Do I struggle to get up and retrieve the lemon curd yoghourt? Is it worth the monumental effort? Am I that keen on eating it? Yes, I was… wasn’t I?

It didn’t matter, cause I fell asleep again!

When I stirred once more, minutes later, I must have been dreaming about this quandary over the tub of dessert, because I found myself reaching for the yoghourt ith the long picker-upperer, and throwing it in the waste bin. How I managed this physically was something of a miracle. Did I actually do it, or imagined doing it? Will I wake up in the morning and tread on it? On and on the Thought-Storms raged!

Looking back, I wasn’t even sure that I wasn’t dreaming all of this?

I nodded off again, waking up again, wanting a wee-wee. As I had got up and was catching my balance, the agony from the mystery growth under the foot, made me jump a bit, no a lot! Got the wee-wee taken, staggered untidily to wash my hands, back to the c1968 recliner, got down painfully on the ringed cushion, (I’d missed the centre and started Harold’s Haemorrhoids stinging). I added recent events to the notepad. (Not that I could read the scrawl easily in the morning)

Oh, dearie me, I’d left the light on! Crying was an option, but self-loathing was stronger, and I silently cursed myself, got up to turn off the light, and suffered when the new papule, or whatever it is under the foot gave me more discomfort.

I think I had another discussion with the boss, Mr G. Mostly inquiring as to why he bothered to let me be born, maltreated me. Gave me so many defeats in life. And was now giving me agony, frustrations and confidence-destroying failures? I got no answers!

Failing to get back to sleep, I realised as I lay there discussing things with the Thought-Storm, I probably deserve the luck I’m getting, fir things I have done in early life. I tried to recontact Mr G and apologised for bothering him.

Guilt? Yes!

Inchcock – Sat 28.11.20: Your certified dyspathy, nervous-anxiety, trepid, and abstracted psychotic’s diary!

TFZer Keith, fishing? Haha!

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Saturday 28th November 2020

Croatia: Subota, 28 Studenog 2020

04:45hrs: I stirred and reluctantly opened my eyes, closed them, and nodded off again. Uninterested in life, or stirring from the warmth of the c1968 recliner.

05:00hrs: Woke, and nodded off again. Loathing the thought of having to move, I needed an expergefactor; yet was venerated, well-pleased when it didn’t come.

05:20hrs: Woke, and was even more determined not to rise and partake in life again. A smidge of guilt as I was writing down the time on the Inchcock Today notepad, realising I’d been sleeping for at least eight, much-needed hours. More than I have slept for in twenty-eight years! Great!

05:40hrs: Back into semi-life mode. No calls for a wee-wee or the Porcelain Throne, so I nodded off again.

0645hrs: This was the end of my first sleeping-in, overlaying session, whatever you want to call it; I could feel the PMD (Pre-Micturition-Dribble) was gathering in readiness for an escape bid. So, after fumbling about in an odd sort of panicky fashion to get free of the recliner, and catching my balance, I hastened as fast as my stomached-dominated body would let me, to the wet room.

I deposited my stomached ladened, with the thin, scrawny legs and arms attached, on the raised toilet seat, and got the crossword book out… However, it was not needed. For the battle for supremacy between Trotsky Terence and Constipation Konrad, was 1-1 draw.

A very messy affair, but the input from Trotsky, amazingly ensured that the system coped with clearing the product away, and it was a big un, with just the one flush! All neat and clean!

Then, a few seconds after taking this photo, ‘thinks began to come back up into the bowl! Blungletads!

The rear end needed a lot of cleaning and freshening, mind! Which took me a while. Not that mattered this morning. Having done the templates yesterday and with my feeling so out of sorts with the timing, I’m not used to getting up as late as this, and the body-clock got genuinely confused.

It was already gone 07:00hrs, and all I’d done was the Porcelain Throne session! I felt out-of-sorts with it all! The body must have told me I needed the extra kip, (which I did, I worked it out and think I was up for twenty-five hours yesterday, most of it struggling to get the templates done). So, Sweet Morpheus supplied it for me.

As I was getting the things ready for the Health Checks, BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) started to give me harassment. And she has stayed all day, vindictively stabbing away at me! Spurgledamnations! But, now I think about it, it was most likely due to the long hours in the recliner that had caused Brenda to kick-off?

I started with the sphygmomanometer, which gave a decentish SYS of 160. Or is it? My memory fails me. I wrote down the expected BP for someone of my age, twice in fact… But can’t where I wrote it down. Brunglebogs!

The temperature came out good again as well, at 36.4°c.

I got the kettle on, and the medications prepped, and I had a look, out of the new, thick-framed, light & view-blocking kitchen window, and it felt odd?

This was because it was so light. (I’m quick yer know, Haha!) A bit of mist and drizzle, wet roads and roofs. I remembered the smoke from last nights photos and had another look at the news to see if I could find out what had caused the fire. Nope!

I got a few more waste bags made up and put them in the box ready for taking to the rubbish chute later on.

I got the computer on and started to update the Friday blog.

It was so late a start, I was worried that my legion of fans and readers would be concerned and missing their IT (Inchcock Today). I hope both of them will be patient with me. Hehehe!

It was extremely late by the time I’d got it finished. Tsk! Sent it off to WordPress. Emailed the links, Pinterested some snaps, and did the Facebooking catching up. I went to check on the comments, there was the usual mass of them from my fans, and I answered both of them.

Went to make a brew, and found I had not put the passata away after opening it and adding some to he Chill-Con-Carne las night!  I had to dish it. Humph!

Not that it bothered me in the slightest.

I opened the ‘Your Area’ email magazine, to search for the latest Coronavirus figures available. Nottingham appeared to be slacking off at last, with only 653 new cases in the last seven-days, which sounds odd I know. But it was so much higher a fortnight ago. The Government’s England graphs were somewhat mixed in results.

I made an Iceland order up for next week. Got a slot for Tuesday 1st December, 08:00 > 10:00hrs.

Beginning to feel all airy-fairy in mind, stopped all activities to concentrate on getting the meal prepared, without making any mistakes, Whoopsiedangleplops ar Accifauxpas.

I couldn’t believe, after the longest sleep I’ve had, (last night), for years, that I felt so drained and tired already?

I made up a nosh, without burning or dropping anything (Smug-Mode-Adopted).

Ate most of it, Taste: 6/10. I stayed awake long enough to eat the yoghourt, too!

Got the TV on, and fell asleep within minutes.

And stayed like this, in the land of nod, for five-hours! I’ve gone from can’t get any sleep to, can’t stay awake within 24 hours?

But why? (Just thought I’d ask!)

Inchcock – Fri 27 Nov 20: Cognitively declined, tired and mentally confused. Hey-Ho!

TFZers in the Garden – What’s going on, though?

Friday 27th November 2020

Dutch: Vrijdag 27 November 2020

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23:45hrs: I woke up suddenly, to suffer the headache-giving wild Thought-Storms bounding about ricochetting off of each other, and making little sense, as they fought each other to be the one to send me daft, demented or doolally! I had a minute or two of semi-panic.

Now, this is hard for me to explain with any clarity, but, I’ll try: I was (I think) dreaming it – and seemed to wake up a second time, and the flaming Thought-Storms were still there! They then died away within seconds, and Anne Gyna took over as the worrying-stakes lead-tormenter. Gawd almighty, she was giving me some stick!

No wee-wee or Porcelain-Throne visits were needed, so I knew something in the brain, body or both was amiss!

I battled bravely and got my Brobdingnagian-blubbery-bellied body up onto its feet. Taking extra care to avoid another Accifauxpa like yesterday (Harolds Haemorrhoids are still suffering from it!). I took my time and did the balance-regaining exercises, following the instructions (painfully) from the After-Stroke Team to the letter! And made my way into the kitchenette, to get the important thing done – make a brew of Glengettie tea.  Snortle!

The wee-weeing started, let’s take it as if they were approximately three-an-hour, that’ll save me time and typing. Thank you.

I got the kettle on, made the brew, and got the Health checks done. The Boot’s BP sphygmomanometer didn’t work first time again, did on the second attempt. Giving a slightly lower SYS of 161, and a higher DIA of 80. The pulse was spot on the button, at 70 BPM.

The new contactless thermometer gave a satisfactory 35.°c reading. In the green again. Yee-Haa!

When it came to taking the medications – Boing! I found I’d missed taking last night’s pot, again! So took the evening ones and added a Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule. I will take the morning ones, later on, around 5-6 o’clock, but must remember to take out the Dioctyl®!

Started the updating of the Thursday IT diary. And it took me hours and hours. Not because of Nicodemus, BPB, SSS or Neuropathy Pete dancing, indeed only BPB was any bother at all, and she was a lot less harrowing than yesterday! (Inward-Smile emerging). Anne Gyna was still in destruct-mode, but this did not affect my typing at all, my concentration, yes! The photographs I’d taken yesterday, on my ill-judged trip to town were the greatest time-taker-upper job.

I pressed on merrily and got the updating finished. It cost me until 05:00hrs, but I was reasonably pleased with the results. Got the blog posted off to WordPress. Pinterested some snaps and emailed the link. Then the overdue summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, I wobbled off to the wet room.

I get confused at how the evacuations change in style every day lately. This morning’s effort had  Constipation Konrad as the clear 2-0 winner over Trotsky Terence. Which meant the pain when passing had to be endured again. That, I wasn’t too pleased about.

So I took an extra Dioctyl® poop-softener capsule afterwards, as I made a new mug, this time of Thompsons Punjana tea, and got back to the computing. I did the Facebook updating first, then answered some WordPress comments, well, The comment. Hehe!

I went on the WordPress Reader section, some great stuff on there today. Then I started on today’s post. I was getting into it and realised I’d not drank the Punjana! So went to make a brew of Glengettie to replace the gone cold tea. (I do a lot of that!)

05:20hrs now, I took the belated morning medications, but forgot to take the poo-softener out of the pot first! Now I could be in more bother! The next visit to the Throne could well be one of the messier variety! Message to Self: Concentrate when taking your tablets. Idiot!

I received the local Email letter, and a few items were of disappointing news:

  • 65 Covid Deaths reported in Nottinghamshire in seven days!
  • Nottingham has been plunged into Tier 3

Time for some brekkers methinks. I got some potatoes in the crock-pot.

The top came off pf the Soy sauce bottle, and instead of a couple of shakes of sauce going in, it was half the bottle! Hehehe!

I made the breakfast-noodles, adding some gravy seasoning to it. I shan’t be adding gravy seasoning to any more of them; it was not very nice.

Then, I turned my keen, educated, efficient, diligent, alert, receptive, bright, and concentratedly-reliable attentions, to getting the Ablutions done.

The session went reasonably well; apart from the teeth bleeding, three cuts shaving, a mega-drop of the showerhead that hit me on the knee with a fair wallop, a bang against the left grab-rail – quickly followed by a knock against the right grab-rail. The cap came off of the lemon shower gel, and (albeit not too bad a one), a toe-stubbing on the sock-glide. I knocked over the Germolene, Olive oil dropper and the Daktacort. (the Daktacort is still missing), and approximately twelve dropsies, it went well.

I finished the medications, got dressed, and sorted out some waste bags to go to the chute room. Added the bottles for the glass bin to the box, on the trolley and off out, to the chute first, then down and Stewart took the bottles from me. I limped along to see omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Pole Dancer, and Warden Deana, to ask for help with sorting the prescriptions out for next month.

She was in when I arrived, but busy, of course. I explained about someone from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, told the Doctors receptionist they would not delivery the prescriptions anymore. I needed clarification on this, before next Friday when they are due. Whichever, yay or nae to delivering, I need to know the date I can arrange to pick them up, then a volunteer needs to be searched for, this is why I am asking a week in advance, last month there was no answer to Deana’s calls at all. But, they are Volunteers! Deana will call them next week, Monday or Tuesday for me. I thanked her and returned to the Woodthorpe lobby.

Back up to the flat and set to work on updating this blog.

The landline chimed out and burst-forth with flashing. It was Sister Jane, I got an update with their medicalisational activities. They are as busy as I am nowadays.

Pete has to have another Cat Scan, then meet with his Doctor this Monday, then on

Jane & Pete

the following Monday, a Pet Scan, and meet his Doctor. Then, has to have his bone-morrow tested again! Porr cocker! The lad is not used to all this medicationalisationing stuff. But he’s catching up, and I think coping well with it.

Jane says she is catching up with me in the Whoopsiedangleplop stakes Haha! She’s put two does of drops in her eye this morning! (Copy-Cat! Hahaha!) She thinks there is some shadow recognition, no proper vision yet. Well done, Pete and Jane!

Well, I must get some graphics done in advance, and I hope I can stay awake long enough to get some templates made up for future use for the diaries.

As I struggled to glean enough concentration from working on CorelDraw and WordPress to make the headers, Herbert kicked off ith his noise again. I was tired again and irritable with myself. Constantly making mistakes and having to correct them, making the time tool grow by hours! It was well passed my head-down time, but a new determination and commitment to get them done was with me.

Herbert continued with his clattering, I wonder what he is making, I’ve never heard these type of reverberating noises before. Still, him being a deipnosophist, garrulous, or a lover of persiflage. More a sort of taciturn chap. So, I’ll never know. Hehe!

I’ve never had a train set, you know. Just thought I’d mention it!

Suddenly it was getting dark. I made a brew and took this picture.

Although I was struggling with my concentration on CorelDrawing and the template making, I was enjoying doing it, especially after Herbert had quietened down bless him.

I took a break, made a brew, had a wee-wee, and got the Cilli-Con-Carne with added passata and gravy in the saucepan, and got two brown baguettes out to oven bake later to have with the meal.

Little did I know that it would be several more hours before this occurred! On and on with the template-making, I plodded, but in a semi-contented fashion, I admit. Saccades Sandra was making vision difficult.

But then Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, reconnected, and for hours! I made the most of it, and continued graphicalisationing with gusto!

I had another break, and went to check on the cooking, turned the heat down, had a wee-wee, washed, and when I returned to the kitchen, I took a photo of the beautiful night sky. Took the first shot, and viewing it, though, hell there’s a fire on the horizon in Nottingham?

I took two more zoomed-in pictures. It seemed to me that they were coming from near the Victoria flats? I got the news on the computer, but there was no mention of any fire in Nottingham?

  I, at long last, got them all completed (The templates). A mixture of pride and weariness was being enjoyed… When I smelt the burning! Argh!

Oh, dearie me! The baguettes are going to need soaking in gravy to eat them without breaking any more teeth! Guffaff!

So, I turned off the computer and served up the meal. But there was no way I could eat much of it, I was just too drained mentally.

Most of it was thrown out, bread and yoghourt as well. A lot of cleaning up was tended to as well. I took a shot of the late evening view, imbibed the medications, had a wee-wee, washed, and checked the kitchen for anything left dangerously.

I think I may have scorched the skin a bit when I got the baguettes out of the oven, only to throw them away. Humph!

Stripped off, got the jammie bottoms on, and down into the c1968 recliner.

Getting to sleep was no problem tonight. Mind you, it was five hours later than my usual kipping time. I just knew it was going to be a marathon, and getting up would be an unwilling struggle.

Inchcock Today – Thurs 26 Nov 20: I escaped to town on L9 bus – A Mistake!

Hello, hello! What’s going on?

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Thursday 26th November 2020:

Welsh: Dydd Iau 26 Tachwedd 2020:0

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01:25hrs: As I stirred into imitation life, I spotted the untaken evening medications pot. I wondered why I’ve suddenly started to miss taking them so often, lately?

My mind was working away, alright. No thought-storming, just a gentle, unfathomable dribble of inanities, and confusion of half-worked out worries and problems – that dissipated as quickly as they arrived? Being replaced in perpetuity, with the need for a wee-wee.

 I encouraged the even greater-sized, fat-covered stomach to join the rest of the body in getting out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rachitic, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. Some gnawing pains and a eurgh or two, a couple of boing-boings as the body-mass settled, and I was up catching my balance – but not well enough!

My balance did not equilibrise, and I tumbled back down into the recliner with a sickening thud! I hope that the neighbours didn’t hear it!

Which promptly set off BPB (Back-Pain Brenda), PKCCP (Proximal Knee-Cap-Cartilage-Pain), and Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding. Not to mention that I clouted my right elbow on the arm of the chair! I had to get back up to check the injuries over and clean up the fungal lesion.

Usually, I’d do this in the wet room, but had a tube of the Daktacort on the ottoman with the Health Check stuff. So I got on with most awkward and painful needs first—cleaning and stopping Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding, and applying the cortisone ointment.

Which, of course, was of no bother to a brave, heroic, healthy, young man like me. (Snortle!) Argh!

I used the also handily placed Phorpain gel, on the knees, and where I could reach around the folds of gross flab around the midriff, to BPB’s dwellings. A reasonably well-sized bruise was developing on the elbow.

Well, I’ve been awake for how long now? Ages! And I am still within four feet of the rickety-recliner, and still desperate for a wee-wee! Positively, not one of the best starts to a day I’ve not.

I considered having a few more words via prayer, with the Boss. But, being as my last week’s ecclesiastical discussion didn’t help any, I went for a wee-wee instead! A need for the Porcelain Throne arrived at the same time.

This session was the easiest, and least painful one I’ve had in months! Messy? Oh, yes! Due to Trotsky Terence winning the fight with Constipation Konrad, hands-down this morning! But, hey, the lack of pain and concrete torpedo removing, this was nae problem for me. I’m using up the bleach, and the once large kitchen towel stocks at a pace, mind. Hahaha! I’ve plenty of toilet paper rolls in yet, though.

I took two photographs of the morning view when I made a brew of Glengettie tea.

The moon seemed a little fuller this morning. I tried a wide shot, and it came out half-fairish with the lights.

Then I got the Health Checks done. The new thermometer colour had gone back to green, as a result, was down to an acceptable figure, I assume, 37°c.

Then the sphygmomanometerisationing. It didn’t work the first time, but okay on the next one. The SYS was still a tad high, the same as yesterday, I think.

I made a start on updating the Thursday blog and stuck with it. Dedicated, persistent, tenacious and indefatigability, like never before! But it still took me hours to get it done. Thanks to Nicodus’s Neurotransmitter relentlessly going off and coming back on-line with the brain. I admit to feeling a little smidgeon of pride when I eventually got it finished and posted-off to WordPress.

I even remembered to take the late morning medications! Swank-Mode-Grade 2 adopted!

Sent the email link off. Then did some Facebooking catching up.

I had a pot noodle for brekkers, but the photograph I took of it has done a bunk from the SD card – again! I did some comment replying on WordPress and had a look at the gallery of new stuff. Some cracking photos on there today!

I took another window view picture, zoomed in this time, on the Sherwood Health Centre area.

Then I tended to the ablutions next.

A right mixed bag of incidents, good and bad today.

The dropsies we variable and Nicodemus kept making and losing contact with the neurotransmitters. Fair enough, that’s to be expected. Most items were dropped, some several times, like the toothbrush, razors, soap and shower gel bottle.

The tiniest of cuts shaving on the lip had to be ‘after-shaved’ to stop it bleeding. Ooh! However. Showering, not a single dizzy hit me!

I couldn’t see it, but I got a reasonable picture of it all the same. That I assume to be from the plopping back down on the haemorrhoids and hitting the elbow on the recliner arm earlier?

I dropped the towel and grabbed the shower chair to lean on to lower my rotund but horrendously wobbly-fleshed body down to retrieve it… I may have got another bruise as I hit my shoulder on the metal seat support. Ah, well!

The feet and pins looked really good and almost normal. Finished drying off, got the deodorants on, and did the medicating. I was surprised at how little piles had bled, considering the strength of the wallop I gave them going back down in the seat. Mixed results then?

I did some updating of this blog.

Then took a snap of the weather outside through the balcony windows glass. Frosty on the ground, a few droplets of rain, not much wind, and the cold sun trying to come out.

This decided me, I am going out later. Only on the bus to town, and calling in the Poundland shop, to try and get some cheap disinfectant, toothpaste, pork pie, and if they have any, cheap canned garden peas. Then I can not bother to use Morrisons again!

I turned the computer turned off, dug around to find the bus pass, keys, etc. Then, I  went through the ‘Bag-of-nerves’ routine of double-checking things before leaving and set off.

Lift down to the ground floor. The upgraders were busy working on the lift and main lobby areas.

I was careful going through not to hit or fall over anything. And got the trolley through to the front doors, and exited safely out into the cold sunshine.

I hobbled along and called in Winwood Court to ask Deana if she could help with next weeks Carrington Pharmacy prescription collecting. No one in the holding cells, so I exited and went out to the bus stop on Chestnut Walk.

A few folks out there. Caught the L9 to town. This was the worst-ever bus ride to town. I’d forgotten all about the problem I had last time I went on a bus, it was that long ago, and immediately wished I’d not gone out. The battle of having to hold onto the trolley as I sat there was hard work at every hill and corner the bus took.

The driver, as he dropped of the few passengers he had, told me not to get off here, and he moved up to get close to the kerb for me to alight. That was nice of him, and I got off unhurt! Hehe!

I walked wearily down Queen Street, and Dizzy Dennis and BPB both kicked off. I decided then, I’d get to the Slab Square and walk to the Poundland Shop, try to get the fodder, and go straight back to the bus stop. I wasn’t feeling too good.

The shop did not have any of the things I wanted, apart from the milk pots and disinfectant. But of course, as is my want & bad habit, I went into a ‘buy-it-anyway’ mode. I ended up amassing Whirls, the milk pots, Dettol disinfectant, toothpaste (Yes eve more, but they were £1, Morrisons are £1.50), Toffeefees, Oxo cubes, and chip-shop gravy granules in the basket.

I must have looked worse than how I felt, cause a young lady at the self-serve tills, took one look at me and said she’d put them through for me, asking if I was alright, as I looked very ashen. Another lady inquired if I’d like her to call for an ambulance? The assistant lady put my things through for me, showing concern for my health still. I gave a can of the Gin & tonic from the trolley thanking her.

A bit unnerving that was! Fair does, I was feeling a tad rough, but I must have looked at death’s door. Still, if that’s what it takes to get some attention from females. Hahaha!

I got outside, rearranged the trolley and bag for easier handling, and made my way through Slab Square to the bus stop.

The git of a Pavement Cyclist came from behind me, I felt a draught, he came that close to me! Straight over South Parade without stopping, into the square. He was delivering food to somebody. I hope they enjoy it.

Naturally, this did not bother me at all. Oy. Oy, Oy!

As I got to the top of Queen Street, as the bus was just coming in, a couple of ladies waiting, inquired if I was poorly! This was getting worrying now! Hehe!

Another horrendously painful trip home, worse now I had the extra weight in the trolley to keep a hold of.

Getting off of the bus at the flats, was dodgy, it was a good distance from the bus to the pavement to cover. The waiting inmates at the stop, each offered an odd stare to me, but said nothing? I checked my flies, they were secure!

I hobbled to the wardens holding cell to ask about help for the prescriptions, but no one in again. Can’t be helped, I’ve almost a week to try and sort it yet. If the memory doesn’t let me down, Har-Har!

 I got back to the apartment and battled to get the trolley through the door, and new fatigue came over me. I was done in!

I unloaded the purchases, Dizzy Dennis and  Conrad Confusion took control. I proceeded to get the Chilli-Coon-Carne with baked beans, and gravy added, burning the saucepan in the process. I scraped the saucepan and left it in soak.

The meal was devoured with delight, even though I think I fell asleep eating it at one point? Conrad Confusion was taking a firmer grip on me.

Perhaps it was because I felt so weary, but the meal was only given a 7/10 (on notepad). I cant, read the rest of the scribble, so don’t know why.

Cleaned up the saucepan and pots, I must have, they were all washed and dried when I woke up later on.

I took the evening medications early and was soon in the land of nod.

Waking up still a tad confused just before midnight. Not in a confident frame of mind, and Conrad Confusion present again. And the Thought-Storms active. Flibblegonkackles!

 

Inchcockski – Wed 25 Nov 20: My memory was malevolently-masticated, with maladroitness! Mmm?

TFZer Bliss ♥

Wednesday 25th November 2020

Somalian: Arbaco 25ka Nofeembar 2020

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01:25hrs: After a good five-hours (Great!) kip, I blundered back into semi-consciousness, in need of a wee-wee. Got the stomach with its dangly legs and arms attached, out of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and meandered slowly, unhurridly, and with a new more acute vageness than I’ve had in a long time, off to the wet room. Took the reluctant weak wee-wee, checked on Little Inchies fungal lesion (No bleeding), washed the hands, and made my way to the kitchenette.

The ambiguous, ambivalent brain, at first, sort of went along with what the body was doing, uninterested. It’s the best way I can express how things were at that moment. I was not wholly under the control of my thoughts or emotions at all – ideas, views, fears were milling around now in the head, but I was losing then as quickly as they came?

By chance, at that moment when I was getting the milk out of the fridge for the Glengettie, I spotted the moon was out and on display.

Things seemed to click back together in the bonce, and enthusiasm returned.

I fetched the Nikon camera, opened the unwanted, unliked, thick-framed, light & view-blocking new window, designed by some elderly people-hating gerascophobia or misogynist, and took these three efforts of the moon in the sky.

Cheered a smidgeon now, I got some potatoes out, got them in the crock-pot and added some Squid juice to them, and put them on a low setting.

I got the Health Checks done, as the Thought Storms began to come (I’d missed then overnight-Hehe!). The SYS is still a little high.

Well, well, and fancy that! The temperature was higher than it has ever been, at 37.6°c. I didn’t realise the read-out produced a changed colour when the figure was out of safe range, on the new thermometer. It has always been a shade of green since I’ve been using it, but not today. It’s gone to orange, next step red, I assume?

Something else to fret about. Just when Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald were being in a good mood with me this morning (up to now). In fact apart from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda), who is still enjoying her sadistic ache-giving pain distributionalisationing, things ere so good. I’ll have to ask Mr Google about this… hang on a second. – Oh, well, I didn’t know that! Mr G says A 75-year-old male – 97°F (36.1°c) to 99°F (37.2°c). So, it’s not too far out, is it? Tsk!

I made another brew of tea for the one that went cold, and I got the medications pot. Oh, dear, I’d done it again! I’d not taken last nights doses! No wonder BPB is moaning! So I took the belated ones and got the morning tablets in the pot read to remember to take later on.

Naturally, I was full unequivocal confidence that I’d remember (I stuck a note over the top of the computer screen, Hehehe!) to remind me to take them. Ahem!

After a few hours of updating the Tuesday IT, I got the urge for the Porcelain Throne. So, off to the wet room. Fantabulous Session again! A 2-0 win for Trotsky Terence against Constipation Konrad. Smoothly evacuated with minimal pain, quick also too! Only the mess that needed cleaning up was any bother.

Back to the computer, and seeing the note I’d left for myself, I remembered to take the morning medications. With Trotsky winning the battle of the Throne, I was unsure if I needed to take any more of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules or not. After some vacillating and dithering, I decided that the thought of going back to the concrete torpedoes was scarier and painful than the embarrassment of my messing my PPs. So, I took one. But was still not sure if I’d done the right thing.

Come think of it; that could be an outstanding, and suitable epitaph for me when I snuff it, “He was never sure if he’d done the right thing!”, for on the coffin, like? Yes, I like it!

I went to check on the progress of the potatoes. I’d not turned it on at the power socket. So, I did. I do feel such a fool!

I finished the updating of the blog. Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS were both surprisingly calm with me? Bless ’em! I Pinterested some snaps. Then did the Facebook catching up. Emailed the link. And went to get some brekkers made.

A BBQ pot noodle, and the remainder of the Wholemeal Irish Soda Bread. I made some gravy to add to it, and some Squid vinegar.

It came out so nice and tasty, rich- flavoured. And I so much enjoyed it with a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m getting used to this having breakfast now, as instructed by my Doctor Vindla, and the After Stroke team. I must try to eas a smaller afternoon meal, though. The Chilli-Con-Carni and or meatballs are going down well, with a little seasoning.

I went to investigate a noise I heard, from the kitchen methinks. I took the pots to wash at the same time. I could not find the cause of the clattering sound, though? I took a picture through the window. It looked eerie, and a bit like an Alpine Village?

PPs I got a call from my Gastroenterologist, asking how I went on with the pads she’d sent me to try. I was frank with her. I told her that using these pads meant wearing normal underpants, that needed pulling up so tight with the braces, that on the two occasions I tried using them, Little Inchies fungal lesson started to bleed. And the pain of treating it, due to my phimosis problem, applying the steroid cream to stop the bleeding, was too hurtful. Three times she said: “So you prefer to use the protection pants you are buying? Each time, I replied ‘No, not prefer, but have no choice, to protect myself from bleeding!’ Each mention, added; ‘We cannot supply protection pants for you!’ On my initial consultation with her, said this five times. On her last progress call, six times.

I think I’ve got it now – They cannot supply free PP’s for me. Hahaha!

It’s still a little gloomy and dark outside. I got the nosh.

I got the CCC in the pan, added some gravy and a drop of Balsamic, and Soy sauce added to the mix.

Then checked on Jenny’s email and replied to the angel, in between getting the evening meal prepped.

I’m trying to keep up with the waste bag situation. I use the old PPs box, and this makes it easier, cause I can add the tiny bags to it as I make them up. Then, when I struggle to the waste room chute, it is easier to get them from the box on the trolley-guide down the chute.

Despite my habit of trapping my fingers in the lid, having a dizzy, misjudging distances and gathering scars and the worst at times; when the malevolent, diabolical, involuntary right-leg (Tim Price from New Mexico named) Neuropathic Pete’s (Drop-what-your-holding), Schuhplattler dance bursts forth, and the leg flails about, gathering bruises and cuts, and encouraging fear and naughty language.  Doing it this way, there is no chance of any blockages in the pipe.

The nosh was served up. Note the lack of any bread? I’d ran out! My eating all the soda bread loaf in two sittings, and forgetting to either take some out of the freezer or put a part-baked roll or baguette in the oven… Well, I did actually put two small rolls in the oven… Maybe next time, it will be better to turn the oven on first.

The Chilli-Con-Carne was on my limit, hotness-wise. This should keep things moving in the Porcelain Throne area. Har-har! A 7.8/10 for flavour rating.

Shame about no bread, but to avoid further cock-ups of this nature tomorrow, I got a packet loaf of Milk Roll bread from the freezer when I did the pots.

Sleep, even this early, I needed, and it soon arrived, off into the land of Sweet Morpheus.

The landline rang and flashed, and a feeling; a sort of, “Ah, I wonder who that is?”arrived. I felt almost sure it would be the Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR Warfarin results and new dosages nurse. She hasn’t rung me for over a fortnight now.

I struggled up out of the c1968 recliner and stubbed my toe on the chair leg. I think I silently muttered something like, “Whoops!” Ahem!

It was Obersturmbannführeress Housing Patch Manager and Pole-Dancer, Angela. She has a good clear voice when not speaking too fast, so I heard most of what was said. My replies were affected by Stuttering Stephanie, but this lady knew and replaced every word I was struggling to get out, for me.  Clever gal!

She asked about how things were, gave me advice, and showed a genuine interest in my plight. Thank you, Madam!

I had a wee-wee and somehow remembered that I’d not taken the evening medications. Got the dosage pot, back to the recliner, and painfully seated on Harold’s Haemorrhoids. and the Thought Storm raged.

Again, I forgot to take the medications! – but I did when I woke and got up, just after midnight… with Arthur Itis giving me unexpected agony in both knees? Oy Oy, Oy!

Inchy – Tues 24 Nov 20: This time, Morrisons delivered my order to the wrong flats! I couldn’t even return the unwanted substitutes sent! Deana & Julie saved the day!

The Five TFZer group performing! ♥

Tuesday 24th November 2020

Maori: Turei 24th Noema 2020

With perms in the ladies hair, or wigs?

23:45hrs: I woke up just before midnight, still in pain from BPB & AG (Back-Pain-Brenda and Anne Gyna). And Harold’s Haemorrhoids soon joined in trenchantly, the moment I moved my stomach-dominated body.

I first felt, then spotted and removed the TV remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, pencil, and crumbs from the oleaginous folds of my belly fat. Well, it made a change, Hehe!

By the time I’d fought my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly, sickeningly beige-coloured, unstable, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, rickety, rachitic, recliner, and gingerly standing up, Haemorrhoid Harold had taken over the position as  LPAG (Lead-Pain-Ailment-Giver), the Germoloid ointment will be needed soon! Tsk!

Wee ChartA wee-wee was taken in the EOGPB (Essential-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket).

This was of the  (Unwilling-Weak-Sprinkly) variety, but the colour was, according to the Urologists Colour-Check-Card, within the ‘Healthy’, ‘Good’ number two-level, for the first time in months. Excellent!

I tended to the Health Checks. The body temperature was the same as yesterday, at 36.8°c. The battery indicator seems to have gone up a tad today?

And, what a change in the results of the Boots BP sphygmomanometer for the SYS result!

Down to 145, from yesterdays 171? I wonder why? I’m not complaining at all, but it would be nice to know the reason.

.I remembered not being able to get out last afternoon, with the waste bags to go to the rubbish chute. Some workers were doing something and had blocked the exit. Good job there wasn’t a fire. But then again, perhaps I had been informed and had forgotten about it. I wouldn’t be amazed if this was true.

I had a nip out of the door and flats door into the lift lobby, to have a nosey. I took these photographs with the Canon camera.

I could see some plastering had been done on the near end wall. I hope the mess left on the new flooring will clean up alright when they get around to it. It appears to be just some smeared plaster, so it should buff up alright without any damage to the new floor tiles. Obviously, they will be working again today to finish the painting off.

I hope to be able to get out to the chute sometime. But as the permitted time to use the chute starts at 08:00hrs, and the workers begin at the same time, it may mean me keeping the smelly bags of waste in the hallway for another day or so before I can access the chute room. Hey-ho!

The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, a little later than usual. Off to the wet room, down on the seat, and waited for the action to start, which it didn’t! I had a go on the crosswording, read the ankle strap instruction and was about to give up when things started actioning from the rear end! I girded my loins, gritted my teeth, and winced in expectation of the upcoming pain…

The torpedo left the tube, with… wait for it… NO PAIN AT ALL! No bleeding either! Once it began slithering, it was all over and done within a minute! I hoax you not!

Fair enough, it was a tad messy, and that needed attention to detail, and time to clean up.

However, it was a delayed action jobbie, but it was as near a normal evacuation as I’ve ever had! Gawd, bless the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules! Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit! Well pleased!

 I had a concentrated blast on updating the Monday IT blog. Accepting no interruptions for tea brewing, and fortunately, the wee-weeing seemed to have dried up? I should drink more.

Anne Gyna and Back-pain-Brenda both got less severe, but Duopdenal Donald started off. Can’t win ’em all!

It took three hours, but I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a few shots, Emailed the link, and then I did some Facebooking catch-up.

Doing this, I got messages first from Norton. I needed attention: back-up, Vin and Security issues. I clicked on the amend buttons, and things seem alright now, I’ve got the green light on again? Then dropbox alerted me. I followed their instructions.

Closed the window (It said I can) while it worked, and had a peek at the feet, cause the ankle ulcer was tingling a bit. I’m not surprised, it looked to me as if it was moving up the leg, and had s new growth coming up on it?

Did another graphics, and checked on the closed window thingy for Dropbox. And it was still working away?

Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up on that.

Oh, blimey, it’s getting late! Better get a quickie ablutions session done! Even though I rushed at it (No shower), there was only eight dropsies and two tiny shaving cuts. No dizzies, but I did bash my shoulder on the door frame coming out afterwards. Another pretty good event!

I came to the front room (I haven’t got a back one, Hehe!), and thought I’d have a few nuts to nibble. Could I find them? No! Well, not least not for ages spent searching and looking in the most stupid places for the pot. I found cunningly hiding in plain view, in front of the TV. Harrumph!

I hope to catch the bus to Sherwood after the Morrison delivery has arrived and been sorted. But my EQ is telling things will not go well? Then I had a look on the web, an email had come in from Morrisons.

They’ve done it again. There were many missing and substituted items again. With my arithmophobia and dyscalculia, I can’t tell if I’ve been overcharged or not. But the total has been lowered, then again, I bought a lot of stuff on offer? Every order they do this to me. I’m cheesed of with them.

I went out on the balcony and took a photo of the sky towards the West, showing balconies of some the flats. Seconds later, the red bits in the clouds were masked, and it went dark, I felt certain that it was going to rain, but it hasn’t yet. I just thought you’d like to know, like.

I did a few more small trash bags up, and put them with the others in the big box, waiting to go to the rubbish chute. Then I was about to nip out to the lift lobby but stopped myself when I realised that the Morrison delivery driver may press the intercom at any time. Not that they have ever come on time, not for the last three deliveries anyway. With my luck, if I had gone out, they would have come at that time. Of course, they didn’t arrive again until after the given hour with the slot. So, I still don’t know if the workers have blocked the exit or not yet. This might prove a problem when the goods do arrive. Assuming they will get here eventually.

I see that ‘Grammarly’ have started doing automatic Spelling and Grammar checks now. I like it!

10:15hrs: The Morrison order has not arrived. It states clearly on the email, 09:00 > 10:00 hrs! Last delivery I had from them, I rang the company, and a recorded message told me… “You can rest assured that if we are delayed for any reason, you will be informed and told a new ETA” Rollocs! That one arrived 2½hrs late, and I didn’t hear anything from Morrisons!

Now, here I am stupid enough to give them another order! What an Eizel, Luftmensh, I am!

Found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottingham.

There I was, waiting patiently, and keeping up a semi-spirited outlook on things, despite Morrisons best efforts to get me all hot and bothered with their stupid substitutions on the way. And my £889, Nokia 8.3 5G, with 171.9 x 78.56 x 8.99mm, 220g Side fingerprint scanner, and Google Assistant button, Punch hole camera, LCD 21:9, 60Hz, and 6.81-inch display, rang. Chortle! Giggle!

It was the omnipresent Obergruppenführeress, ILC, Warden, and Pole Dancer, Deana. Inquiring if I had a Morrison order coming today, (The heart sank). Apparently, my super-big order, the one with the unwanted substitutions I wanted to return; Had been delivered to Winchester Court, not Woodthorpe! Flibblegonkackles Glibblebonks! Globdanglesods! Spurgledamnations! and Hogglebogwash!

Perhaps the signs are not large enough at five-storeys high and ten-foot wide? I’ll ask Nottingham City Homes Generalfeldmarschalless Housing Patch Manager/ Catwalk Model, Angela Gould if we change the signs with added flashing lights in heliotrope and silver, and an arrow with Morrison in it, on the rooftops of each Court? Fernacklcumps!

Deana said she would bring the shopping to me. Bless Her ♥ Deana and Sturmscharführeress Catwalk Model, Warden Julie soon arrived at the flat with the belated, much-travelled Morrison order for me. Bless their cotton socks! ♥.They even brought them inside for me. I thanked them graciously, and off back to work they poddled.

The unwanted and overpaid for substituted foodstuffs, I thought Jenny’s friends who she helps could use. So I put the other stuff away, and made a carrier with the strawberry trifles, Curry flavoured pot noodles, a can of Posh Perry for Nora some other bits in it, and called to explain why I was coming down to ring on her bell. We had a good chinwag, which is always nice.

I got the box full of bags taken with me and visited the waste-chute on the way. Then down in an elevator to Jenny’s level, and put the bag outside her door, rang her bell, and had a problem turning the trolley around, and bashed my ankle-ulcer on the wheel arch, that steadied me up a bit! Jenny appeared at the door, had a look at the goods and declared they could all be made us of for someone worse off than us. That’s Jenny! ♥

Getting a lift back u[p was a smidge farcical. I ended up going down, ended up on the ground floor. But the bonus was meeting a tenants daughter and Francis and having a little natter. (Silver Lining!)

I eventually got back up to the flat and was feeling a little drained. And got on with prepping a meal. I used a can of Chilli-Con-Carne and added some gravy, Balsamic vinegar, mild chilli seasoning. Chopped some tomatoes, (A little cut) to it as well. I tried a taste, I feared it may be a tad too hot for my liking, should have left off adding the chilli powder, methinks.

On a low heat, and updated this blog, in between going to stir the fodder in the saucepan.

I put the waste from the cooking, into a little bag, and started to fill the box again.

Well tired now, I’d been up for about 13 hours or so. I concentrated on getting the meal right from then on. Turned off the computer, I can catch up on things later or in the morning. At least Anne Gyna was easing off nicely. (Thanks, Anne!) Not BPB, though, I think I may have to see the quack about her. But she started after the tumble on the wet-room, so might ease off later on. (And pigs might fly!)

I had a little review of today, Whoopsiedangleplop-wise for a moment or two… Up until the Morrison disaster, things were going well, apart from BPB giving me permanent, persistent pain, of course.

I got the Irish soda bread out. A messy crumbly feast to eat. Hahaha! Not a delicate or dainty taste, of a mealy texture, but tasty, and highly suitable for soaking up the Chilli gravy. A first-class, nonpareil, supreme loaf and depositor of crumbs on the recliner, carpet, and in my stomach folds!

I ate half of the small sliced loaf of bread with the chilli-con-carne. It was at my limit for hotness, but this didn’t stop me enjoying it, and granting a flavour-rating of 8.5/10!

Undoubtedly, one of the best Chillies I’ve had so far. As you can see by how the tray looked as I took it away to soak overnight in suds and bleach in the sink.

I got stripped (the thought makes me cringe) and settled in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep. I’d hoped putting on the TV would have a somniferous effect, but no! The thought-storms in my hypnagogia began, and the debitage of my life, the failures, the mistakes, guilt and fears, cascaded around in my head.

The  Egads, there was a mangled, menagerie of mentalese memories in there. That I could well have done without remembering!

Inchcock Today – Monday 23rd November 2020: Ailments BPB and AG in attendance. Humph!

TFZer Movie-Maker and Stars?

But only mine – the failing neurotransmitters to blame! Haha!

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Monday 23rd November 2020

Croatian: Ponedjeljak, 23 Studenog 2020

23:15hrs: I woke in a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. (Nothing unusual in that, although the early hour was a bind!) I was weary through lack of sleep, with drooping eyelids, and struggling to engage my thoughts. Hello, I’m sneezing away now!

Not that the lack of sleep bothers someone like me. A heroical, strong, young, fit, healthy, virile, confident, handsome, stouthearted, very-much loved and admired, intrepidly courageous, health enthusiast, fitness fanatic, well-educated, keen outdoor adventuring enthusiast… Well, I may have just over-hyperbolised things there, a smidge) 

As the grey-cells regained a weak form of logicality; I dragged my bouncy-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, broken-down, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery, rickety recliner. And I rose up on my painful overgrown toenailed feet. I caught my balance, as per the After-Stroke Teams instructions.  But had to skip the last bit, as the need for the Throne was growing more urgent by the second.

This session gave me a pleasant surprise! I got down on the plastic lid, and straight away the evacuation flowed. It was a long one, but that didn’t matter – It was totally pain-free! No bleeding either! Messy, though, very! Then having to clean me and the WC furniture, which took me ages, took the edge off of the, well, almost pleasure of super-easy pooing! Not that I was excited, for every Throne visit lately is totally different, which the Gastrointestinal Doctor Gupta had told me may happen for a few months. I just hadn’t expected the differentiations to be so acute on each visit. After the passing, BPB was soon starting to ache much worse?

I sorted out the Health Checks. Heck of a shock when the sphygmomanometer gave out the SYS reading of 171. Blimusigational! Yesterdays was only 148? I wonder why this happened? Ah, well, must press on, so I got the new thermometer out.

A reasonable reading of 68.8°c. Well, at least that was fair enough.

I went to get the medications out – and shame and disgust at myself again! I’d not taken last nights doses, yet again!

So, I took them then. Now I must remember to take the morning ones in a few hours.

It’s all very most confusing life is, when you’re nearing the end of it, and the old previously so reliable memory becomes unpredictable and a hit-and-miss affair. Hogglebogwash!

I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, and I got side-tracked. (Hard to believe, me getting divagated, but, there you are... Hehe!) I took off the grey zip-up jumper I had on and set to washing it. Why I did this is still unknown to me, it was at the time I did it!

When the handwashing was finally, done- wrung and hung above the sink, to drip away drying, I had to clean up the mess I’d made doing the hand laundering. The floor had to be dried of sudsy water, the dropped and knocked-over items retrieved from where they had landed, and or rolled to, and the sink and counters washed.

I got back to making a brew of tea again, got the kettle reboiling, and noticed the small but beautiful quarter-moon was out in the now morning sky. I got the Nikon camera and took this photograph in Night Landscape mode.

Got the computer booted up, and uploaded this morning’s pictures. (Still doing some sneezing here). Then started to update the Sunday diary.

But this did not last for long. BPB started to get crescively more painful. So I hobbled to the wet room, and applied as best I might, a dollop of Phorpain gel to the affected areas, and rubbed it in as well as I could. It made no difference, though. Klunglefrazzles! 

I’m sorry I bothered now, cause coming out of the wet-room, I hit my right shoulder on the edge of the doorframe, and now SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) has joined DD and BPB harassing me! Criggleblogglesworthisms! How much more of this can one man take!

Of course, I’m not really bothered, whatsoever.

I got the blog updating finished. Posted it off. Pinterested a few snaps. Went on Facebooking, then sent the link off via Email. I went on CorelDraw again, to try and get some page top graphics done for the TFZer pictures.

After about two or three days, I’d got two graphics done… Well, it felt that long to me! Nicodemus has joined at ailment army now. However, a Silver-Lining search result: Duodenmal Donald departed the battlefield, for some R & R? Hahaha! The main offender now is Anne Gyna.

Then, I had to visit the Porcelain Throne for the second time. Messy in the extreme, a tad more painful, but over so quickly, and no bleeding. Far less volume this time I thought, not that I weighed it or anything. Cackle! Titter! Hehe! Cleared the evacuated product with one flush, as well! Yeehaa!

I decided to see what slots J Sainsbury had available. I wasn’t too keen on using them after the last cock-up with substitutes and damaged goods, but I dare not use Morrisons to get my Chilli-Con-Carne, after they substituted 2 cans of their cheap (69p) CCC, with their best ones, at £2.58! And the utterly crap MCains peppered chips as a substitute for the Morrisons Sweet Potato battered fritters. Apart from there were no sweet potatoes or batter, the sub was okay. Swine!

Swine again now! So, I made up an order with Sainsbury’s, for Sunday 29th November, twixt 0800>09:00hrs. I made a point of working out how to opt for ‘no substitutes’, but I got it wrong, and could not reaccess the list! As it happened, I’d missed off the BBQ super-noodles from the order, so I went in to edit it again, add the pots to it. And got the no substitutions and added the CCC, and bread to that list.

I also found that I have a refund coupon, well, two of them, so clicked on the activate buttons. Then found an option that if I spent £60, I could get £9 off of the order? So I clicked that, but I had to, unfortunately having to increase the ordered items to reach the total. As I updated, I got a long-winded message telling that because I had chosen so many items with the No-Substitute on them, if the total is not reached, I’d forfeit the £9 off-offer. See their substitution rulings! Cobblers!

I knew that Hristina was calling later today, so got the ablutions sorted out next. 

And what a feast of flipping, fiascos, faux pas, foul-ups, fluffs, follies, fatuous-farcicalisations this session was!

  • I got in the wet-room and moving the shower chair, I let it slip from my grasp. Or rather Nicodemus did. (You can see the bruise in the photos later!
  • The gums bled when I was doing the teeth!
  • A few nicks when shaving (5).
  • A stubbed toe when moving the sock glide out of the way to prepare the shower.
  • I bent down to pick up the dropped shower gel bottle and hit my head on the grab bar!
  • This started BPB off again!
  • As I was drying off, I put on the new glasses, and the lens fell out of the frame! Grrr!
  • Moving the chair back under the shower, I gave myself another toe-stubbing (At least this one was not too bad).
  • The medicationing started poor little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding!
  • Finally, on leaving the room, I was intent on not hitting the door frame again this time, and I didn’t. But as I turned to collect the forgotten to take with me wristlet alarm, I knocked most of the stuff off of floor cabinet when I had a balance loss moment!

Not one of my bestest ablution sessions! I was so irate with myself.

With all the clearing up, extra medicalisationing, I think that this session took me about an hour and a half!  I don’t think I’m one of the luckiest tenant’s in here, am I?

But then again, I already knew that.

At least apart from the bruised foot, bloodied lesion, shaving cuts, bashed head, stubbed toes, and Back-Pain-Benda back to her painful best, I feel I have nothing to complain about really. Much!

At least I had a visit for Hristina, my precious Vampire Nurse to come. (An inner smile glowed!)

After I’d calmed down, and was sorting out some waste bags, the front door chimes chimed out. It was Josie returning the dinner things. She mentioned how she’s enjoyed it so much. Which was good, and semi-cheered me up a soupçon.

I got back on the computer, and fear that I’d left something undone, not done, in the wet-room, forced me to get back there and have a check, that all was okay. I’d left the clothes I’d used in the ablutions and medical tendings, and washed on the support bracket.

The intercom flashed. It was Hristina, my beloved Vampire phlebotomy nurse who’d arrived. She rang the intercom at 11:45hrs.

By EQ recognised that she looked full of angst and tensed up, bless her. And no wonder, as she said while whipping out my blood: Only one lift working in the block, hard to find a parking space, extra clients added to her list,  stressed the Angel.

Although she gave no obvious signs and tried to speak in her usual comforting way, the speed of her words revealed the pressure she was under. I don’t think she was with me for more than five minutes. Beautiful, enjoyable minutes, though. ♥

After she had gone, and I lowered my sprits and sulked a little, and did some updating on this diary.

I turned of the computer, feeling a tad down and weary now. I got the waste bags, a lot of them had built up. This is because we have to use tiny bags now since the upgrade, so as not to block the chute, as has often been the case in the past, and cost a fortune to sort out.

I got them on the box and not the three-wheeled walker, and with some difficulty, got the trolley out through the door. (For the first time in a few days, I twisted my back getting the guide over the raised doorstop, and BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) gave me an electric-like shock, and hurt on of a level 7/10 pain-wise, and has stayed with me all night and into the morning!)

Struggling even more to open the door to the lift lobby (BPB), as I got halfway through the door, there were working signs and equipment all over the place, and at the end of the lobby, three workers, who turned to look at me – offered me a look of contempt, a sneer, and a scowl. No way though – I’m sure I hadn’t been informed of these workings? But who knows, with my memory!

So, I was going nowhere.  I made my way with difficulty back into the flat’s lobby and returned to flat. Storing the trolley back in its corner in the hallway, obviously with the full of waste bags box still on top of it. And BPB really giving me some stick now!

I took the evening medications, with an extra Codeine 60g, and as best I could, offered Back-Pain-Brenda some PHorgpain Gel where I could reach to. Hoping, foolishly perhaps, that it might calm her down a bit. I was now in a right picklement, BPB and Anne Gyna bother having sadistic fun with me. Argh!

I got the meal prepped. A different type tonight, the Beef Curry, had a ring-pull opener on it, so I tried it. Got some potato letters in the oven cooking. Then considered the seasoning, that might be required for the curry. First I got it in the saucepan and tried a spoonful as it slowly heated up. I could not detect any curry. I decided on some balsamic vinegar and made-up some gravy with vegetable stock and added it to the mix. Put some Soy sauce into the mix. Fingers crossed. Not that I was too bothered, with BPB and AG for both still nagging away at me.

Nosh was served up, and I wanted to show how I felt and decided I’d put my views in potato-letters on top of the fodder. Just my luck, all those letters I cooked, and no letter T! Hahaha! Not to be beaten, I nibbled an H and used that to give my message to the world via the internet and this photo. Daft, I know, but I was in so much pain and fed-up with it.

I got the saucepan and tray washed, and took the meal though to the recliner, and eventually got my poor old back settled in a position that was not too uncomfortable. Of course, by then the food was not very hot! Globdanglesods!

I wasn’t going to go through the agony of getting up to reheat it, so I tucked into the bowl of beef curry. Notwithstanding, nevertheless, and however, the taste was not too bad at all. Had the meal been warmer, it may have got a better Flavour Rating than the 6.5/10 I gave it. The other can of beef curry in the cupboard will be used later, and not rust away or be given away.

It took a long time eating though. The moment I moved to get up and do the washing of the plate bowl and cutlery, BPB started again. Oy, Oy, Oy! Did I feel it, too!

Eventually, I got washed, stripped down, and back in the c1968 recliner again. Gawd know how long it took me to find a position that BPB would tolerate a little better – I expected the worst… needing a wee-wee, sneezing, or wanting the Porcelain Throne and having to move again. But nae bother!

Not that man like me was concerned over a little pain and agony, of course. Ahem! The prayer and confession I offered up, brought no reply or relief.

Surprisingly, I nodded off quickly. Waking up just before midnight, still in pain. I removed the remote control, empty packet of Frazzles, and crumbs from my folds in my belly fat…

Inchcocksi – Sunday 22nd November 2020: Ailments in a bad mood, and I did a lot of wittering

TFZers, but where are they?

Sunday 22nd November 2020

Greek: Κυριακή 22 Νοεμβρίου 2020

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Last night, try as I did, and I did, but I couldn’t get to sleep. So I got up, finished and posted off the blog. Nodded-off again! Yee-Haa!

02:45hrs: I woke (three-often-interrupted-for-wee-wees hours) in need of a wee-wee, but not urgently. I sensed and felt around the ailments, wriggled a bit and tested the legs, arms, wrists, ankles and torso, to try and self-diagnose, the little blighter’s veracity this morning.

I soon discovered that DD (Duodenal Donald) and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), (later on joined by Anne Gyna – badly), yesterdays agonies that were given to me, were both top-of-the-heap again, pain-wise.

But the search for a silver-lining revealed that Arthur Itis,  Reflux Roger, Cartilidge Cathy, Shaking Shaun and Saccades-Sandra and others, were seemingly in am empathetic mood with me! Bless ’em! So, as I tackled the mountainous task of heaving my crassulent, flabby, boing-boinging-stomached body from the clutches of the c1968 recliner, I adopted a kind-off; Hey-Ho!, attitude?

Having gone through the After-Stroke teams recommended balance-catching routine, the hobble to the wet room, was a struggle, but not for the usual reasons.  No straight loss of balance, no Dizzy Dennis, nor Arthur Itis problems! Just a difficulty with the misjudging of distances to my right-side. Had there been a CCTV in the flat, it would have reminded any viewer of Freddie Frinton and the Ministry of Funny walks! Hehehe! But, there was no going into anything or tumbles on the way to the wet room, and the need of the Porcelain Throne arose en route.

How can things with the innards change so often? I’d been sat down for a few seconds, and without any warning, the evacuation began. Ooh, argh! And all done! No mess, no bleeding at all! How so much came out in such a little time amazed me! A bit of discomfort, but no pain as such, either! A 1-1 draw, between Constipation Konrad and Diarorrea Duncan. And, one flush cleared the elephantine mass away, too!

Anne Gyna was now taking over as Primo-Pain-Profferer, as I got in the kitchenette to make a brew. Got the kettle on and took this half-decent, semi-zoomed photograph, of the morning view, from the hard to get at to clean, light and view-blocking window.

Maed a mug of Glengettie tea, and into the main room to do the Health Checks and take the medications.

Anne Gyna was continuing to give me grief! I must ask the Doctor about this on Monday, or ring 111, but they only tell you to see your Doctor, which is not going to be easy.

Got the sphygmomanometerisationing was done. The SYS was well down on yesterdays reading, at only 142! The pulse up a tad at 90, but I don’t think that’s a problem… I’ll ask Dr Google. Yep, okay! ‘Between 60 and 100 beats per minute (bpm)’

During the time since the Porcelain Throne visit, I’ve wee-wee’d eight times? Ah, well! I took the medications, with an extra Dioctyl® capsule, and Codeine 600g, but it isn’t helping ease Anne Gyna in the slightest, fed-up with this. But I reckon it did ease BPB later.

I made a start on this blog, in between several more SWSI (Sprinkly-Weak-Short-Itchy) wees.

Then went on CorelDraw, to do a few graphics for the diary-top.

Getting artwork from the web to amend, I found the latest Coronavirus figures for Nottinghamshire.

Blimey, Anne Gyna is giving me some high-quality hurtful stabbings! I had a wee-wee, and ent to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. I made up some small waste bags while the kettle boiled, and put them in the box, and onto the three-wheeled walker, ready to go down with some others later on.

Back to CorelDrawing. I ended up sorting some files out that I’d got mixed up, but still haven’t got any graphics done – Humph!

The feet were humming a little, so I took a look at them. They were fluid-retentioning again, I think, and the nails getting longer than ever!

I got the ablutionalisationing done. Not too much bother, not the showering caused owt worth mentioning. Multi-dropsies and a crack on the back of the head, when I was getting back up after retrieving the shoer-gel bottle for the umpteenth time.

The dressing was a struggle, and the medicationalisationing went well enough.

Then I got the small waste bags added to and stacked them in the box on the trolley-walker guide.

As I was doing this, the landline flashed and rang. It was Brother in law, Pete. We had a good chinwag. I was updated, on how Pete’s radiation treatments for his cancer had gone.

Next week he goes back for a cat-scan again, to have a look at how things are reacting the treatment he’s had. Fingers crossed! I told him Tim and Billumski on WordPress sent there best wishes.

Cheered him up a bit, I think!

Back to the rubbish sorting. Out and along by the lift lobby to the waste room chute.

Bit of a farce getting into the room. A bigger struggle to get the bags into the tiny opening. Trapped the finger (the same one as yesterday) in the heavy metal lid.
A further kerfuffle getting the trolley out of the chute-room, trapped my ankle against the door and wheels of the guide. Well, it stops me getting bored, dunnit! Hahaha!

I took this photograph from the window near the waste-room door. Some Crows were flying about, but by the time I’d got the camera out they were long gone.

I even managed another moment to have a hullabaloo going back to the flat. A cracking well aimed for maximum pain, toe-stubbing, against the trolley!

I think I said ‘Well, fancy that!’ at the time.

I returned back to the flat and got on with doing Josie’s nosh.

I felt a little unexpectedly irritable with myself while doing the food prepping, but buggered if I know why? Got the meal delivered dead-on time again, midday! This is not the real meal delivered today, I forgot to p[picture it, and used an old one – Cheat!

Things went pear-shaped then! I had to go for another Porcelain Throne visit. So much blood came out, everything else of the visit was unimportant and forgettable. So I forgot it! I spent a good while cleaning up and medication, during which I found that both Little Inchies Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids were bleeding! This actually eased the mind, at least I know why all that flood of blood escaped. Not feeling so good, now.

It made the PPs look pretty in red and white, though. Hahaha!

All calmed down now, I had a very late brekkers of the left-over cheesy potatoes with chives, sea salt, Leicester cheese and butter, from Josie’s nosh. Jolly good they tasted too!

BPB and DD were both still in attendance, and I was trying to do some graphicalisationing, but it was a hard slog with the concentration all shot.

And early head down was demanded. So I got on with making the main meal.

I added some tomatoes and peas to the Chilli-Con-Carne in the saucepan and made sure I checked it every few minutes, in between doing a Thoughts graphic for later use.

Put some part-baked rolls into the oven, and turned off Computer Katie.

Made up the evening pots of medications and put it on the ottoman, to take while eating. (Unfortunately, I failed to do so, but corrected this later when I woke up).

As you can see, I didn’t manage to eat all of the Chilli-Con-Carne meal, all as part of my self, and Doctor-imposed new diet. (Ahem!)

As I got down to watch something on TV, erm… whatever it was, Anne Gyna suddenly stopped her day-long marathon of giving me grief, it was like an Angel turning off a tap! Although Duodenal Donald and Back-Pain-Brenda were continuing with their assault, the relief at Anne Gyna retreating from the battle was almost frabjous, and appreciated!

Ah, yes, gorrit! It was an episode of Hell’s Kitchen that I wanted to watch, with Gordon… Hang on, that’s wrong… Erm,  ah, Kitchen Nightmare. The brain’s going on one of its ‘Work-to-Rule’ episodes, again.

I watched the first part, and when the adverts came on, I thought I’ll nip through and get the pots in the sink to soak, which I did. It took me that long to get up, simply put the cutlery, dish and tray in the sink, and get back, and the next part of the programme had started. And we all know how long the Freeview commercial breaks can last! Hehehe!

At the second commercial break, I remember seeing the evening medications still in the plastic pot on the ottoman – and vaguely thinking, I’ll take them now… and I fell asleep!

I woke at 23:00hrs. Hey-Ho!

Inchcock Impetuously – Sat 21st Nov 2020: Worst Day for months. Oy, Oy, Oy!

Henry mountaineering on Janet! ♥ Hahaha!

Saturday 21st November 2020

Finnish: Lauantai 21 Marraskuuta 2020

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Due to ailments, this will have to be a short version of the day ________________________________________________________________________________

23:45hrs: Stirred, Wee-wee. Pains. Mug of Thompsons Punjana. Medications, extra Codeine taken.

Between working on the Friday post, going to the Porcelain Throne, and constantly having to tend to Little Inches fungal lesion bleeds, and hell from BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda); the wee-wees dried up and became rare indeed.

I did the Health Checks were done. All figures not pf much interest to me, I’m afraid. I had so many of the old ailments ganging up on me.

Three hours after starting it, I finished and posted the blog. Facebooked, and went on the WordPress Reader section, and Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters started giving up sending messages to the brain. Making things go so slow and frustrating for me. What next?

BBB, Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra all offered  Nick support in making the day one of the worst for months for me.

I did the BP, the SYS was up for the first time in a few days. Fancy that!

Then the Porcelain Throne was attended. More bleeding, Harold’s Haemorrhoids now, as well as poor Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. But the motion was back to an unwillingness to move concrete-mega-torpedo. No doubt about it, Constipation Konrad had the upper hand over Diarroreah Duncan and Trotsky Terence today. But most likely it’s my own fault, I’m not sure if I took the Dioctyl® poo-softeners or not last night. I took an extra one afterwards.

Well, as I went into the kitchen to make a brew and take a photo of the morning sky now, it was beginning to lighten a little. And Duodenal Donald kicked off. The stabbing pains being as low in the gut as they were, was indicating, judging by past experiences that Donald (or, I) was in for a long haul.

But I was determined to get some Templates made up. I was full of grit, determination, stupidity and agony. Spurgledamnations!

Then a real ailments-causing, marathon (over seven-hours!) session of making up templates. After which I got a very late brekkers of noodles and some biscuits. Pickleglobknobs and Simper! Hahaha! What am I laughing for?

I somehow got them done, and was not up to much then. I got down in the recliner, the headphones on, and listened to some classical music, half-hoping to fall asleep.

But, no! I reckon over the next three hours I must have nodded off at least twenty times, but it was only for a minute or two each time. On the umpteenth waking up, I decided if I didn’t get up now, I’d never get this blog done, I’d not even started it yet, although I’d got the template ready at least. It was well beyond my usual head-down time now, and confusion had joined the ailments.

: I got the kettle on, thought about if eating was a good idea or not. (Duodenal Donald was so vicious!) I added some gravy, Soy sauce and garden peas to the CCC (Chilli-Con-Carni) in the pan, to make my mind up later. Then, the wee-wees started coming suddenly – and kept on and on coming! Grunglebogknickers!

I was semi-proud of myself for tackling this blog so late, and in the condition I was. But I didn’t start it, due to the Porcelain Throne Session demands, mark 2 arriving.

I really didn’t think there was any rush, so made the Glengettie and left it to brew, and meandered staggeringly to the wet-room. Shogglebogights! The damned evacuation started of its own accord before I got myself sat down!

Total embarrassment! Shame! Self-Disgust and Feeling-Sorry-For-Myself modes all at the in unison! This time it was like rock-hard meatballs! A lot more painful, plenty of bleeding, and, of course, followed by the job of cleaning up the body-parts, and wet room floor! Good job I bought the expensive break-the-bank-account Germoloid Ointment! It really is so cooling and effective!

I Cleaned up and back to the kitchen to put the milk in the Glengettie. Oy, Oy, Oy! Nicodemus ensured that I dropped the milk carton – at first, this was a point of pride… I’ll explain further: I’d not taken off the cap of the bottle, and managed, and a bit of juggling with it, to catch it in mid-air so to speak – a smile of self-contentment broke out.

Then I lost my balance, went over to my right, and grabbed the counter to stop my going over, and I proceeded to knock the things off of the draining board.

I was so disappointed with myself, the items are still there now! As I bent to begin retrieving them, BPB gave me such agony, I gave up, wailed silently, simpered, and even threw the now cold tea away!

Yet found the concentration to get this blog finished early. If anything else occurs, I can add it Sundays post.

I got a wash and down in the c1968 recliner, in search of sleep again.

I was still there, pee’d off with having to get up so often to pee, two hours later.

Got the computer on and sent this off to WordPress.

Today was a nothing day. One of the worst for ailments in ages!

Grumbleclonkackers!