Impugner-Inchy, Sunday 7th March 2021 Dairy – Argh! Sundays!

♥ The TFZer Garden of Love ♥

Care Home Sports – Hehehe!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 7th March 2021

Greek: Κυριακή 7 Μαρτίου 2021

00:00hrs: I stirred after sleeping for five-hours, but they were broken ones, disturbed by repeated wakings up, silly thoughts and nodding off again! Tsk! And a feeling of doom and gloom lingered in my tortured brain! Likely due to the series of dreams I’d been having!

I  boldly heaved and puffed away, freeing my abdominous over-bellied aching body from the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, and rose up on my feet, to catch my balance. Argh! Both knees gave me pain; the right one, with Cathy Cartilage, was really keen and sharp! My hobbling was so slow and so carefully done after this. I realised and remembered then, the Morrison order delivered yesterday by the Amazon shopper! Me hobbling down to help him carry the stuff up to the flat. And the git just leaving all the bags in the front lobby of the building. The agony of all that walking and carrying brought thoughts of malice, hatred and revenge-seeking! Which soon dissipated, as I realised this is not my style! No matter how the chap treated me, hurt me, and caused me such discomfort, I must not lower myself to his and Amazon’s standards.

I was now feeling calmer in myself, although in pain still, thanks to the ignorant moron. (Whoops!) My mind was distracted (it does that a lot nowadays!), as the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived… and a gaseous one too, judging by the escaping bubbles of air (I hope!) from the rear-end. So, I made my way to the wet room with all available haste!

I’m so glad I didn’t hesitate; no sooner had the PP’s come down, the action started! Trotsky Terence’s revenge! Short, smelly, sticky, gooey… but no bleeding from anywhere at least! And just two flushes needed to free the bowl of the evacuated product! Mind you, I was amused to see after the second pull, bubbles continued to come back up from underneath the water in the porcelain for a few minutes. I took this photo of them, but they do not show up much on it. I swear I could hear a sort of gurgling noise as they came to the surface?

The cleaning up needed and medicating took me along time. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were very sore. A dollop of Phorpain gel was rubbed into the knees. And I realised that I had been sleeping, wearing the bamboo diabetic socks on last night! A ‘No-No’ that is! I pulled them down to see if the muscles in the leg had gone soft, and they really had! Naughty, Inchcock, stupid, Inchcock! I’m not going to bother to take them off now, though; I’ll do it later when I handwash them with the shirt. I do feel a fool – I’ve never done that before? I must have an advice notice somewhere about what to do if you do sleep in the hosiery. I recall getting one from the neurologist at the Mary Potter clinic? I may have to get help in searching for it, Hehe!

I went through to put the kettle on and a wash-up… Unglefrogwogglings & Thunderbogworthyness Idiot! I’d left the hot water tap running again! Stone cold! I’ll miss doing this when I snuff it! Hehehe! But I was so angry with myself!

Instant Ode assembled: I made a brew to drink and stew, but what can I do? Doomed, I will be! Deaf, can’t hear running water and cannot wee-wee! In pain and pissed-off with me! I’m a social outcast, an old logicality-abortee! Not a good rhyme, but it flowed out easily enough at the time!

I nipped out on the balcony to take a shot of the view. But the Canon camera does no do night shots very well, as you can see with the results of my photographicalisationing!

I’m not sure what I changed on the camera or how I did it if I did. But the ratio came out different to the usual wide mode? As I checked on the selector on the camera, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) had a go at me, and I turned the dial, so I could not identify which option I’d selected. Not that many of them mean anything to me.

I returned to make the brew of Glengettie tea, passed wind, considered if I needed to return to the Throne, decided not, and got the Health Checks done. At least these photos came out in the proper ratio-shape?

The body temperature was 36.4°c – 97.5°f, but I cannot access the Excel log record because Microsoft was updating again and wouldn’t give me access!

I think it was better than yesterday, anyway.

The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, worked for the first time today. Revealing a high SYS of 170, SIA at 80, and the Pulse down to 85.

I got on with updating the Saturday Diary, not that much needed doing. I soon had it all finished.

I went to the NHS BP site and input my figures. Oh, dearie me! Way-up in the red today!

Today my BP was well in the red!

Perhaps, I might be dead?

I wish someone had said! Hehehe!

Hopefully, a nurse should be calling on Monday to take my Warfarin blood test; I can point it out to her if she’s not too busy.

No chance of getting through to the Doctor… well, I might, but I only get recorded messages about Covid. Then, the ringing tone, followed by another recorded message telling me they are getting an extraordinarily high volume of calls, please ring back later!

I know, I’ll ask them to bury me with a printout of the HP figures, providing Microsoft will allow them access, then they can read them too late to save my life, the high numbers involved? Good idea? Oh, damn! I’m being cremated, ain’t I! Hahaha! It’s such a warm, comforting feeling, knowing one is so cared for in one’s dotage and psychoneurosis years, innit?

Then, I emailed the link for the diary off. Pinterested some photos and went on Facebooking catching-up. I started sneezing repeatedly, and a few shivers went through me. Hello, what’s going on here? 

Then, I visited the WordPress Reader Section. This post was incredible; here is the link:

https://offcenternoteven.com/2021/03/06/ghost-mousies-in-the-sky/

An excellent parody song on this one. And a link to an older one, too; cleverly performed! You should like both of these, for the tune and Spunk, the pussy cat antics with a mouse!

https://photos.tandlphotos.com/blog/2017/9/spunk-fought-the-mouse-and-the-mouse-won. 

I went on the WP comments reading and answering.

Soon be time for the Ablutions to be done, I’ll have a mug of Glengettie tea and a nibble, methinks.’

Ablutions: A remarkably calm, almost injury-free session. Fewer dropsies than usual! Nasal, teeth cleaning, even the shaving was cut-free! The showering smooth and safe. The medicating went just as well. However, getting dressed proved painful! Only two accifauxpas (but they felt like dozens!) Hehe!

Getting the socks on, I actually felt proud of not using Sock-Glide-Glenda. But wish that I had afterwards! Two tumbles, one for each sock! Stopping the bleeding from the hip where I hit on my way down took a while and much medicating. The left-leg fiasco had me going backwards and sliding slowly down the door! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were not pleased in the least! Ah, well! Oh, the sleeping in the bamboo socks had left me with some new blotches. The old ankle-ulcer wound was itching like mad! So, I put 100% cotton socks on today. Cathy Cartilage looked a bit temperamental, too! No wonder she’s giving me such jip!

I made a start on prepping Josie’s meal. Tomatoes, cheesy mashed potatoes as she likes them with plenty of Leicester cheese, well-buttered. And some Scottish Kippers with butter. A blotch of her favourite cheese, unopened so she can eat it anytime. A limoncello and strawberry dessert, and delivered it to her door. I wobbled a bit with the tray as I sneezed and spilt some butter from the kippers onto the tray as the gal opened the door. She was not impressed with me. Also, when I got back, I’d forgotten to photograph the meal! Ah, well, you can’t win em all!

I got in and sorted the eight black and blue bin bags. Then, I got them on the box with the others on the walker-trolley and off to the waste room. It was a deathly-quiet Sunday routine. But to perk things up a little, I trapped a finger in the cast-iron chute lid. I swore mildly and then returned to the apartment.

I got the handwashing done, only two pairs of long bamboo socks, and hung them above the kitchen sink to drip dry.

I moved the leek and potatoes from the crock-pot into a saucepan on the hob. They smelt good! Then got a ring-pull can of Stewed Steak, but as usual, things don’t go right for me very often! The ring-pull came away from the can! On the label, do not open this can with a can opener, hand or automatic – Use the ring-pull for access! Well, that advice was crap, then! I tried it nervously on the auto-opener, of course, but it didn’t work; the ridge was far too high for the blade. Now, what do I do?

I tried again at an angle; and was not sure if I’d drop the can, machine or both, but it worked somehow. This was mainly due to the respite from SSS (Shuddering Shoulder Shirley) and NN (Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters). I went into a bit of Smug-Mode! Then poured the contents into the saucepan and added Best Bisto Gravy granules and an Oxo cube to the mix. Gave it jolly good stirring, and after a while, I had a taste… Not bad at all!

I gave Sister Jane, well, husband Pete, a ring. I felt sure it was this week that he had to go back to the hospital for a conference meeting with the doctor. Thought I’d cheer him up a bit first. But no, I was wrong again. It was Sister Jane’s turn this week! So I had a chinwag with her, but it was a farcical effort; we both seem to have hearing problems now. Hehe! Wished her well for the Doctors visit and chatted about nothing that mattered. But I enjoyed it, all the same.

Then I tried to get a slot with Sainsbury’s for next Thursday or Friday. But they only some free on Wednesday 10th March. I got an early one, 7>8am. Made the order and decided to start sorting my own meal out.

All the time and effort was well worth it. Although I spent a long time cleaning the pans first, it was still hot enough when it came to eating them. All it was, was a well season pot of canned stewed steak, potatoes and leeks. A flavour-rating of 8.8/10!

I put the pots and tray in the sink to soak overnight and settled to watch something on the TV. Ah, I remember now, it was ‘Kitchen Nightmares’.

The sleep soon came, but it was a sad night again; I was forever seeming to wake up, with dim memories of a terrible dream, but could recall nothing, other than the sensation that I was young again during the nightmares. I think they may have been repeating ones? Maybe not, though.

Imputed-Inchy, Saturday 6th March 2021, Diary

 ♥ Classy TFZer lassie Gladys! ♥

INCHCOCK TODAY

Saturday 6th March 2021

Igbo: Satọde 6th Maachị 2021

01:25hrs: I woke and lay there, desperate to claw back some of the memories of the many dreams I’d been having. But, it was not to be. I know that some were had a joyful nature to them, and I had the abilities (in the dreams) that have been long lost to me! Klappboggleworth! I could not remember any details… well, other than I was in raptures and Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding. So there had been some inordinately rare movement in that department!

The Daktacort ointment will have to be applied to stop the bleeding, so I have no choice other than to extricate my generously-over-ample stomach and body from the c1968 recliner, catch my balance of trot (limp) to the wet room to do so. I arrived, and I found I needed to utilise the Porcelain Throne first.

Oh, dearie me; Trotsky Terence was back in full-control again! A 3-0 win over Constipation Konrad. I’d just picked up the crossword book as well, in anticipation of the delayed kick-off that I’ve had for the last three visits to the Throne. The semi-liquid evacuation started at a fair pace. But things got stuck-up and very gooey, messy then. I waited, hoping that the mess would flow again, and even got three answers to clues!  Sure enough, the movement began also, but it was so squooshy, stinky, and a right flaming mess to clean up – with Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding and dripping down the legs, and the PP’s down, naturally, this made it a mammoth job to clean up! Still, it didn’t bother me much; I just pressed on and cleaned it all up?

Fantastically, the bog’s first flush cleared the sticky mess and all of the toilet paper in one go? Not been known for months that!

Then, of course, the onerous job of medicating and cleaning things up in the front lower area had to be done. I started the last Dakacort tube and went through the as expected, painful job of applying the ointment. Ooh, argh, Eeek! But it stopped the bleeding in a short time (phew!) I washed around and changed the PPs, had a belated wee-wee, and went to get the Health Checks done.

I made a brew on the way, took the missed evening medications (Ahem!), and tended the Health Checks. The Boot’s Sphygmomanometer readings were SYS 166, DIA 76 and PULSE 92. All a smidge high, I thought.

The body temperature on the new contactless Chinese thermometer came out as 36.8°c – 98.24°f. For some reason, beyond my capabilities to work out, the Canon camera photo came out all red? But the screen was in light-green? Hey-ho! 

I went to open Excel to compare and record the readings on the graph, but guess what? I couldn’t access Word or Excel… Again!

Why do they charge me for extras I can’t remember asking for on MS Office, and then they deny me access. This is the third time they have updated, and I couldn’t use either for a day and a half! Well, I’m disgusted with them! Do the profitable morons think we are all idiots? Ah, well, in my case, perhaps! What do I do if, this time, it doesn’t come back on? I must think of another way of storing my medical recordings. It was so easy to start with to send them to the clinic, as well. Damned Microsoft Gits!

I got the Friday Diary finished. Emailed the link and Facebooked.

The ablutioning time arrived, earlier than usual. I usually do them at 08:00hrs, which should not disturb the neighbours’ sleeping (lucky monkeys!) With the Morrison delivery being due, twixt 07:00hrs and 08:00hrs, I had to start the session by 06:00hrs.

So, off to the stand-up ablutionalising session, I hobbled. As I took off the long bamboo diabetic socks, I decided and got them soaking in the kitchen sink to wash afterwards. I just can’t make my mind up or stop fretting and thinking, can I?

Back to the wet room. The nasal clearing went well enough, no bleeding or choking! Then I got the teeth cleaned, a lot less painful this morning, oh, three dropsies!

The shaving started, and a mystery found here; as I was bending down to pick up one of many dropped razor, some blood dripped down onto my nose? I investigated and saw a little cut on the top of my bald head? How? No razor goes up there, no need? Anyroad, it was only a tiny nick… possibly done by one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court; the phantoms, kelpies, spectres, poltergeist, spirits, manifestations, zombies, demons, cacodemons, rakshasas, hellions, aliens, extraterrestrials, hobgoblins, apparitions, elfins, pishogues, apparitions, gremlins, and ghostly goo-like Ectoplasms! Hehehe!

But I did better shaving the face and neck, not a single nick at all!

I had to wash the new tackle department, of course, if I triggered the fungal lesion off again. All went well, then the getting on of the new bamboo hosiery, and not using Sock-Glide-Glenda, either! Which proved a painful experience and a mistake, perhaps? Tsk! Rolling up the first sock, I cunningly placed my bum in the corner of the room to try and avoid going over. Noteworthy, the hose went on at the second attempt, and I could have sung-out with joy! (I think I did, actually?)

Then with the second sock, things did not go so well… As I was full of confidence now, I rolled up the hose but could not get the Cathy Cartilage and Peripheral Pete affected right leg up high enough, and foolishly, stood with the leg part-way up to the other knee, and over I went! Clattering down the wall and hitting Harold’s Haemorrhoids on the floor cabinet on my way to the floor!

However, I did get them on eventually! Hahaha!

The silver-linings were that the piles did not start bleeding, nor the fungal lesion. So, although I was annoyed at myself. I realised it was my own stupidity that caused the calamity, so no moaning from me about it! (Well… a smidgen, perhaps?)

Got the Germoloid on the haemorrhoids, some more cream, well, ointment, on the fungal lesion, and olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed some manly deodorant all over me (Old Spice, I think?),  started coughing, and tidied the room up. Off to make a brew of Glengettie.

Washed the socks and got them hung above the sink to drip dry. I’ll move them nearer the heater when it’s safe to do so, and no chances of any dripping. (Pork or beef! Hahaha!)

Back on the computer, but the delivery was due, so I thought I’d go and help the man carry the stuff up to the flat. What a mistake to maker!

I went down to the front lobby with the box on the trolley-guide; at least I should help a little in getting the bags back up to the flat. The man was not a very lovely person and seemed to take an instant dislike to me before I said anything to him, apart from, Good morning! He was keen to see my I.D., and I told him it was up in the flat? He checked my date of birth. Questioning each detail. I put two of the lighter bags in the box on the trolley and began to take it inside… as I turned, the man was driving off!

So, there I was, stuck downstairs, and somehow had to get seven bags of food up to the flat! I really did knacker myself.

  • I had to carry some bags individually into the lift foyer.
  • Go back and collect the others, take them through.
  • Return back and get the trolley with the two light bags on it, and get them to the lift foyer
  • Then, when the lift arrived, I had to manage it so that the door didn’t shut on me, get the six loose bags into the cage, then the trolley and box!
  • As I got to the twelfth floor, a chap was not pleased that he couldn’t get in the elevator. I have been sneered at a few times, but this man was an Ace at it! I felt awful!
  • Got the bags, trolley and box out onto the lobby floor… To make things worse, the lift door shut on the man… I could fell the virtual arrows coming my way!
  • Next, I had to move the bags and trolley to the loft lobby door, get the loose bags through, then the trolley and me inside. Carry them down to the front door; I was struggling by now and feeling a little strained and drained!
  • At got the bags and trolley inside and had to stop. I just stood there fighting for me to breathe for a couple of minutes.
  • Then I took the bags through to the kitchen, put them on the floor, and needed another minute or two to properly collect myself.
  • Collated the bags and got them sorted out… slowly, very slowly!
  • They had sent that horrible seedy bread, not the white sourdough I was looking forward to having tonight. Crap!
  • The ice-cream had partly melted!
  • The tomatoes were squashed!
  • The swiss roll mini-cakes were mangled entirely!
  • The fridge looked a little bare, to say all the stuff I’d just put in it?
  • I think I must have been having a funny-moment, that wasn’t funny!
  • One of the tubs of Custard & jelly was broken, plastic split!
  • But was I bothered? Did I mind? Yes, I bleeding did! I felt right, cheated and mistreated!

Luckily it didn’t bother me too much (Lying Swine!)

Back on the computer, still short of breath and coughing something rotten again! The worst thing about the whole farcical delivery was that it had destroyed the unaccountable lightheartedness that I’d been enjoyed for a day and a half! Now, Depression Dennis was taking a hold on me.

I sourly updated this diary with the above details, then the sneezing started? What’s going on here?

I tried to remember the things I had not done earlier and conducted my scribbled notes. I tried the crap, overcharging, shitty, unreliable Microsoft Office programs again.

What a pratt, I actually thought it would open and work! Not the way my luck has changed in the last two hours or so! So, no updating the medical figures, then! I’m getting low now!

Ah, I remember, it’s TFZer Shirley’s birthday. I’ll make a graphic and put it on Facebook.

I feel a little better now for remembering. ♥

I risked making myself feel more depressed by looking at the local Emagazine for anything worth promoting. Apart from local yobbo drug gangs letting off fireworks each time they get a new supply to let their pissant users know, the possibility of Nottinghamshire Covid-19 Vaccination centres might have to close, due to supply issues, there was not a lot worth reading about. Mind you, the Covid-19 new cases were well down over the last seven days. So, not all doom and gloom… even if I am currently in a ‘Doom & Gloom’ attack.

I decided to try the crap malted seasoned bread. It might be okay. I made up a cold meal, imitation Dagwood sarnies, pork & stuffing meat, and tomatoes. Chip sticks, roast onions and some sugar snap peas and got settled early to dine. Tray on my knee, feet up om the swivel chair, and tucked into the nosh!

The malted grain-seeded bread was worse than I’d hoped it would be, tastewise. But with plenty of pork, stuffing and butter on it, it worked out to be enough to mask the bread a bit. I gave it a Taste-Rating of 6/10.

Washed the pots, and settled down to watch some TV, Auf Wiedersehen Pet and Rosemary & Thyme, 2 episodes of each following each other. Of course, I missed most them, thanks to the kind for once Sweet Morpheous allowing me to nod off into a dream interrupted but much-needed sleep! Ah, nice!

Indagating Inchy – Wednesday 3rd March 2021 Diary

♥ The TFZer Chef of the Year! ♥


Wednesday 3rd March 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 3ydd Mawrth 2021

  00:05hrs: I semi-woke up, returning to mock-life, and amidst all the confusion milling about in my brain, I found so many things to fret over, worry about, and ignore; for a few pointless, unfathomable, befuddling, minutes. Slowly I worked out what day it was and became aware of the warm wet sensation from within the PP’s. I hoped it was PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble) or CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble) instead of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding. (Which it was! Phew!)

I tackled the Herculean quotidian job of hauling my overly-bellied torso from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety-recliner, and rose to catch my balance. (There wasn’t a lot of equilibrium available, but I managed, with a high degree of effort, to achieve this).

I took the missed evening medications and did the Health Checks. The SYS was down a smidge at 149, DIA at 72, and the PULSE at 88bpm. Which overall, it was a better set of figures this morning.

The made in Hong Kong, Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer temperature reading is well in the danger area red, at 37.9°c – which Mr Google told me was 100.22°f. High, but not critical. Phew!

The summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived via the innards, and off I trotted, well, limped, to the wet-room. For the first time in a while, Cartilage Cathy was giving me some aggravation, stingingly so, which did not help my balance at all. In fact, when I plumped down hastily on the raised WC seat, I caught and started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding again!

However, the expected runny, watery evacuation didn’t happen. Instead, it seemed that Constipation Konrad was in charge over Trotsky Terence, this time, very fuliginous, to go from one extreme to another like this. The crossword puzzle was utilised as I sat there, knowing things were brewing ready to escape, yet spent a good five-minutes puzzling before the action started. Not that I solved any clues at all. Tsk!

Far less messy, but more effort needed to encourage the motion along. No bleeding from the rear end! Easier to clean things up. Although the refilling of the water tank and several flushes were needed.

Then after washing the affected areas, the dodgy bit had to be done! Stopping the fungal lesion bleeding. Nover an easy job, but with not having to use it for so long, the Dakacort cortisone cream application proved more messy and painful this time. Not 100% successful either. But, pain-wise, Cathy Cartilage’s knee was a lot worse to medicate. If I don’t rub in the gel enough, the pain relief is not up to the job. So, I had no choice other than to keep applying it and massaging the knee with a degree of pressure that didn’t go down well with Cathy at all! I’ll take an extra Codeine Phosphate with the morning medications, maybe some Paracetamol as well. Walking and keeping my balance is not easy when this happens, but I mustn’t moan. Plenty of folks a lot worse off than I am.

I got the computer going and concentrated on updating the Tuesday Diary. Cartilage Cathy was no bother as long as I was sat on the swivel chair – but when I had to get up for wee-wees or make a brew, Wow! I think this will affect my balance when I have to go out with the rubbish later.

I eventually, quite quickly actually, got the updating sorted out. Thanks mainly to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters being in a good mood with me, Yee-Ha! Most appreciated! Hope he keeps it up!

Sent off the blog. Emailed the link, went on WordPress comments, then on the WP Reader Section. Finally, I got to updating the Facebook pages.

I made a start on this page, and I had to go to the wet room for a painful wee-wee. Although, a reluctant one. A stressful evacuation… no, that’s not the word. Harrowing is a better one to use. Little specs of blood in the bowl, and the NHS Urologist’s colour code card, showed that I’d gone back to a ‘Very Dehydrated’ No.6 level. Humph!

Leaving the room, I came as close as I’ve ever been to walking into the door frame as I have ever been without clouting it, as Cathy Cartilage gave way. Things seem to be getting back to normal for me, then? Hehehe! I remembered to take the A.M. medications.

I remembered to put the Kodak camera on battery on charge. I was using the old Canon charger, thanks to Amazon sending an American two-pin charger that wouldn’t work anyway. Still, it started charging without any bother.

I returned to the wet room to tend to the ablutionalistical duties. They have not gone so well in months! Brilliant! Astoundamigating! Wunderbar! Up until the getting dressed, that is!

The nasal-clearing went well. The teeth cleaning fine! And even the shaving impressed me! Only two dropsies and no, I say, NO cuts or nicks!

The showering was again a good one! A few dropsies fair enough! No bangs or dizzy’s whatsoever!

The drying off was problem-free, too! See Inchcy there? The red-faced showerer! Hehe!

Now we come to the medicationalisationing. Not perfect, nor lethal. Hehehe! Harold’s Haemorrhoids ointment applicating was a smidge painful.

And the dang Daktacorting on Little Inchies fungal lesion brought forth a few curse words, twinges and Ooh, Ah’s and Argh’s!

The last operation, getting dressed, involved:

  • Me ripping the new PP’s as I pulled them up! Luckily I have a decent stock in hand now.
  • The other balsa… no, Bambppp long socks didn’t seem as long as the first pair did yesterday?
  • When getting the trousers on, Cartilage Cathy wobbled me, and down I went on my knees!
  • Still, I got back up, bruised, but easily enough!
  • All in all, a fair session!

I may sell the wonderful looking photo of my legs in the Bamboo hosiery to the Tate Gallery? Hehehe!

I got on with the handwashing. The long Bamboo socks, a pair of short ones, the crap cold Amazon so called  ‘Lounge pants’, and the well-made in Myanmar (Burma) are far too small and thin, grey zip-up jacket with pockets.

The door chimes rang out, and I went to investigate. There was the young engineer, who I’d arranged to come today, to fireproof the old airing cupboard.

Of course, I’d forgotten all about him coming. It’s easy to blame senility – but I will do it anyway!

He didn’t mess about, and soon he had everything out of the cupboard and on the floor in the kitchen for me to fall over.

Nice natured lad, we had a chinwag at times and a laugh.

I nipped out with the waste bags to the waste-room chute, and I disposed of them down the tube.

Made my way back to the apartment and took part in a little natter with the lad doing the work.

Oh, dearie me! Another letter informing me of the costs of living increases! The rent, Service-Charges and Support-Charges! So, what’s that in this week gone? The bank reduced my interest rates! HMG increased my personal tax rate! I’m sure there have more than these demands. Time for the claw-back for the Convid-19 costs? I’d have thought with them giving me the Asta-Zeneca poison vaccine and making me so ill, they might have gone easier on me, you know? But, no! Inchcock to the slaughter!

While stewing away and feeling sorry for myself, the young man working in the kitchen. And I realised that I’d forgot to remember to take a photo of the removal of the Porta Kabins on Chestnut Walk. So, here’s the best I could manage, the top one form last week and the bottom one this morning at approx: 10:00hrs.

Fancy that, me not remembering something, it doesn’t happen a rule. Ahem! I’m kidding, of course, when it’s news, it is the odd time that I do dredge-up some loose connection with something, and what I was going to do, or wanted to do, comes flooding back to me!

Shortly, the young worker lad had got the cupboard fireproofing work finished. He’d put a shelf up for in, bless him.

I told him to help himself from the bag of treats, thanked him, and he said he would try to call back on Friday to give me a hand getting the stuff back into the cupboard. Especially as he had put a shelf in there for me to use, bless his cotton socks. Most appreciated. Of he trotted, and I had a look at the kitchen to see what needed sorting out – I had no intentions of doing anything, mind. For I had no templates left to use and need to get at least three done, or I’ll get so far behind, doing the blog will become too much for me. I just winced when I saw the state of the place! So I got back on the computer to update this blog as far as to here, and I had to begin making some CorelDraw graphics for the templates. Getting late now, if I don’t do it, with it being midday, the weariness is about to dawn. I’ve been up for twelve hours now. I’m afraid I wasn’t up to concentrate, so I got something made up to eat.

I used the last of cooked pork, chicken tikka on sticks, garden peas and tomatoes. I lathered plenty of butter on the Sourdough bread, added the last pot pf the horrible Iceland raspberry trifle, and got down to eat it. The flavour-rating given was only 5/10, but the sourdough bread was tasty enough.

Missed most of it! Grumph!

I washed the pots and got down again, wondering if Sweet Morpheus would be kinder to me tonight? It was all tiny-nod-offs and waking repetitions. Of the two half-hour episode of Tales of the Unexpected, I might have been awake for the ten-minutes worth. Then, of course, I thought this is it, sleep commeth now… Did it Thunderbogworthy!

Well, yes, it did in a way, but in spells of a few minutes, then I’d wake up, simmer and stew a while, drop of again for a few minutes… Not very good at all!

In the end, I gave up about 23:40hrs, got up for a wee-wee, and then started doing some much-needed graphics.

Indwelt-Inchy – Monday 1st March 2021 Diary

What are these two TFZers up to?


INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 1st March 2021

Croatian: Ponedjeljak 1 Ožujka 2021

00:45hrs: Woke requiring a wee-wee. Which has been something of a rarity this week. So, I delayed not and hauled my overly-stomached torso from the warmth and discomfort of the c1968 recliner, caught my balance, and hobbled over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket).

What a struggle that was! A weak, trickling affair that caught me out with both PMD (Pre Micturition Dribble), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribble). A check on the NHS Urologist chart proved that the wee was in the number 6 status! Very Dehydrated? I thought I’d been keeping up with the spring-water guzzling too? I’d better make sure today that I take a lot of it in.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie to get me started drinking. Made a decent looking mugful and added the milk… but the milk had curdled a smidge. That was the Sainsbury’s Jersey full cream one too! Hey, ho! I opened a bottle of Cravendale full-milk and made another brew. I took the missed evening medications. Tsk!

As I was stirring it up well, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. Oh, dearie me! All the signs were that it was going be another Trotsky Terence dominated evacuation. And it was, but with a difference!

I hastened to the wet room and settled quickly on the seat (Not wanting the embarrassment like yesterday of any early escapages). To my astonishment, there was no movement at all; well, the gurgling was there in the innards. I got the crossword book out and began to use it… but only for a few seconds. The action started, as anticipated; it was a victory again for Trotsky Terence. Stinky-phoo, mostly liquids followed by a generous dollop of the gooey, sticky mass of faecal matter. I’ve never had such a chaotic, squishy evacuation as this one was!

Thank heavens I’d got the fresh TP rolls out ready after the nearly as onerous evacuation yesterday. Cleaning up took me a least ten-minutes, if not more. Then, the problem of getting the product to go away! I lost count of the times I had to refill the water tank. And I destroyed the wooden stick with so much prodding and poking of the congealed mass to encourage its eventual removal from the bowl! I felt exhausted after I’d finished! 

I decided to take the morning medications with another Acute Diahorrea Relief Capsule. I hope this one might work.

The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed to work the first time again. But it did show that the SYS had tumbled from yesterdays high of 180 down to 149. The DIA was 80. and the PULSE a little high as 94bpm.

The made in Hong Kong Chinese Harpin Xian Di contactless thermometer gave me a surprise. The body temperature had shot back up again? 37.5°c – 99.5°f, a bit over the top that was? Of course, I can’t get to talk to the Doctor about these readings, neither on the email or landline phone!

Lots of ambers and reds on the Excel record sheet now! 

As I was starting the Sunday’s updating (I hate Sunday’s 👎), it dawned on me that I could hear the World Wide Hum! I could listen to the noise from above of the motor running? Jenny can hear that down on the 9th floor as well.

I got the updating finished and posted the diary to WordPress. Emailed the link. Pinterested a snap or two, then I went on Facebook catching-up. After which, I read and replied to some comments on WP. Next, I visited the WordPress Reader section.

Getting tired now. I went to make a brew, and I found that the morning had turned foggy, to put it mildly. Made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

Nearly time to get the ablutions sorted out. I was getting the watch and bands off of my wrists. I noticed the Warfarin alert band had been strangulating the arm. So that was what the itching was earlier, Hahaha!

I’d wondered, like.

I foolishly opted to divert and get some handwashing done before going to the ablutionary duties. I think it safe to say I got carried away somewhat with it this morning. I started off, doing the grey that should have been brown, Indian made, thin, cold, too long flimsy lounge pants, and a made in Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket.

Got then done, wrung, rinsed and hung. The gear should be dry enough to wear by around mid-November or so. But I’d not finished yet, oh, no, when I go off on a tangential wandering, I do tend to get a smidge hypnotised with things.

Out came the mucked-up blue Pakistan Maroon zip-up jacket. And to long-sleeved t-shirts to get the Inchcock handwashing treatment as well. I must admit, this operation caused me more pain then the Porcelain Throne and wee-weeing put together earlier in the now freezing day. Colin Cramps kicked off, and I just knew that shaving was going to give me more agony later on. (Unfortunately, this was so!) EQ knew!

I got in the wet room and did the de-nasalising first, which went smoothly for once. The teeth cleaning left me with a little discomfort for some reason? I used the twin-bladed Bic razors for the first time. Which, with afterthoughts, may not have been such a good idea after all.

With the feet being hidden by the socks yesterday, I was surprised at my plates’ state. Both old ulcer scars seemed to be trying to make a comeback. And the tibial and spider veins were getting more prominent for the first time in months. Mind you, they were still more artistic than the idiot Andres’s pile of bricks at the Tate gallery looked!

The showering was an easy, almost accident-free session, to start with, anyway. There were no Dizzy Dennis visits and no banging or knocking into anything either, and Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me any right leg dances! Plenty of harmless dropsies suffered throughout the shaving and showering. I think I ought to have been given a medal, or a mention in despatches, for my heroism in using the… wait for it – Sock Glide! Smug-Mode-Adopted! Especially with my putting on the new extra-long f diabetic socks for the first time! I put these on partly due to the Weather forecast on Radio Nottingham for tonight -3°c, 26.6°f. The too-small Morrisons PPs were worn as well. They are not very good protection but do keep one warm, at least. As with the long mesh bamboo hosiery. Not cheap, but just worth the investment. I also noted the signs of water retention in this photo wot I took after the session.

I’m afraid I flaked-out after that. There was no sleep, just a horrible awakeness and frustration at not nodding off, despite the weariness I felt.

The door chimes rang, Josie was returning the things from her Sunday lunch. She liked the cheesy potatoes.

I settled again and just sort of hovered between wakefulness and sleep-mode – not actually attaining any nod offs, though. Eventually, hunger arrived, and I got a nosh prepared. A disappointing result, the peas and leeks were okay, mind. Taste-Rating: 2½/10!

The day-dreamings went on and on, but would sleep arrived? No! Sweet Morpheus denied me even a little shut-eye. After a horrible night, sort of dreaming but being awake, the need for the Porcelain Throne needs, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) stirred me into action. Of a sort!

Ill Inchcy – Sunday 28th February 2021 Diary

TFZer to the rescue!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Sunday 28th February 2021

Latin: MMXXI die 28 Mensis Februarii

01:40hrs: I stirred into imitation life, realised that I was not coughing or bringing up anywhere near so much phlegm. And it felt good, indeed, at last, the symptoms from the lethal to me Convid-19 AstraZeneca vaccine was weakening, after a full week! I spent a few moments fearing the second one coming up…

The innards bubbled, I adopted the Porcelain Throne – Defcon Two-Mode. And I fumbled my way out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, incommodious, sickeningly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, caught my balance of sorts and hastened to the wet room.

No sooner was I seated, and with Trotsky Terence in complete control, the vagariously doloriferous evacuation began. The discomfort and pain were soon over, but it was an Oh, so messy affair! The regular black and dark red mini-torpedoes funked like never before! 50% liquid! Bits of blood could be seen as I rose to assess the results of the dump.

The entire toilet roll plus was needed to clear things at the rear end! Gallons of water was used from the sink to remove the gooey pipework, funking, multi-coloured evacuated product! Many flushes later, things seemed to have been cleared.

The reliable, made in Hong Kong, the contactless thermometer showed a lower reading this morning, of 37.0°c-98.6°f. But this was still a smidge high, methinks?

The usually dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer failed on the first two tries to come up with a reading.

On the third attempt, it worked, but the SYS was high at 180, DIA at 75, and the PULSE was 89bpm.

I updated the Excel file with the new figures.

Then took the missed evening medications and making up the moring one to leave in view so that I didn’t forget that one later, as well. Humph!

I made a start on updating the Saturday Diary. SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and PP, Peripheral Pete, were giving me their ackamarackus tricks, which slowed me down with my progress.

As I was going to make a brew of Glengettie, the rumbling innards kicked-off again – which worked out well as it happens.  I was only feet away from the wet room door at the time and was soon in and sat on the raised plastic seat…

Oh, dearie me! This session was worse than the first one and more Accifauxpa-ridden, too!

  • The content was just the same style, but there seemed a lot more of it!
  • Not so much blood escaped.
  • I had to restock with toilet rolls and kitchen towels. Ultra-messy, and so much of it, gooey, gelatinous, gunky and semi-liquid at the same time!
  • Foul-smelling, evil-mephitic and noxious!
  • The clearing of the evacuated product took far longer this time. Several refillings of the tank, and many flushes, eventually did the trick!
  • Then, when I thought everything had been cleaned and freshened, I spotted a clump that had, I assumed, ejected itself as I position myself on the seat.

Embarrassment, shame, disgust and the futility of my hopes all lingered for a moment or two, teasing, humiliating me. I got things cleaned up.

Then I returned to the kitchen.

I took this photographicalisation through the kitchen window, it didn’t come out well, did it? Humph!

I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested, a couple of yesterday’s pictures, then went on Facebook catch-up.

I made another brew. Then read and replied to some comments. Had a read of the Health Unlocked Peripheral Neuropathy site letters. And made a start on this post.

Well, time to get the ablutions sorted out, then. Off to the wet room, I trotted.

Well, just look at those legs, will you? Spider and iliac veins hardly noticeable! Clopidogrel almost gone! And the weals, lumps, myasthenia gravis, with no signs of any Idiopathic Polyneuropathy.  Admittedly the socks cover the ankle ulcer, but it was very faint.

I wonder if the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying a picture of my amazingly improving legs and knees? My pins photo would cost a lot less to the idiots who run the Tate Gallery, and if I may say so, are more artistic than Mr Andre’s ‘Pile of Bricks!’

Arthur Payne, Gallery Assistant, quoted in the Evening Standard, n.f.d. 1976: “These bricks have really brought the public in. They can’t make head or tail of them. Nothing has attracted as much attention as they have!”

Inchcock response: “It’s a shame something that is nothing to do with art should be bought by the desperate for fame, fools at the Tate Gallery!”

Of course, it doesn’t bother me! Oh, no!

Ablutions all done, I set to getting the walker-guide box filled with waste-bags and got them ready to rake to the waste chute.

I found another letter had arrived.

Worryingly it was from British Gas, an assured sign of price rises or confusing changes of tariffs! Sure enough, on opening the lying, two-faced, cheating, conning, unreliable, ignorant, mercantile, profit-seeking, undependable, unpredictable, untrustworthy, capricious, expensive, over-charging, anti-customer orientated, costly, compassionless, and pachydermatous British Gas envelope; I found an increase in payments! But it didn’t bother me!

I spat a little, cursed, sent a death wish through the ether, to Centrica boss-man, (who own British Gas,) Ian Conn, and the four bosses who raked in £2m bonuses as the customers were hit; with price-hikes! But it didn’t bother me! The profit-oriented gits are not going to get to me! Although, if I hear of any of them being cast-down and snuffing it excruciatingly painfully from Covid-19, it may cheer me up a little and bring a warm smile to my face.

I got out and into the lift lobby, with the rather well-filled box of waste-bags on the Trolley-guide and down to the tiny rubbish-chute at the far end.

I got in alright and even put the bags into the chute without any knocks or injuries down the tube. Getting back out was not so easily managed. There is not enough room to turn the walker-Guide around in the waste-room, so a spot of reversing is needed. I caught the trousers in the wheels coming out. Later I found a tear in the cloth and a spec of bleeding. It made me think of British Gas! I felt sick!

Out along the lift lobby in the opposite direction. The only art-deco end wall, I’ve not seen this on any other floor, seemed more attractive to me again. (Especially so with the bile being encouraged by British Gas!) I wonder if any other floors have this art-deco paint job on their wall?

I got back to the apartment, and I set about getting Josie’s nosh cooked and prepped. I was extra careful in the presentation of the extra cheesy, buttered and sea salted potatoes. They tasted good when I tried some; I hope Josie enjoys them. The strain-free tuna, mini-tomatoes, Surami sticks, roast onions, and today for a change, fresh garden peas and leeks added. A disc of the cheese she likes was left unopen, in case she fancied it later on. A can of Sainsbury’s Rum and coke added. I delivered it just before midday. I could her Josie talking to her sister on the phone as I rang the bells. Handed her the tray and explained about the peas and leeks and new drink. Again she asked why I buy the drink when I don’t drink it; also, I told her, ‘So you can drink it!’ today. She can’t understand it.

I washed the cooking utensils from her meal making, and I had a look to see if I could get in a slot with Iceland. I got one alright for next Tuesday. I hope they have the bread available this week.

I made just one more graphic on CorelDraw and made up my meal of the day. Potatoes with the rest of the garden peas and leeks, a few crispy onions, tomatoes and some horrible tasting cooked turkey pieces. But I did eat it all. The early weariness dawned.

I got the pots washed again and became rather insipid, and the tiredness came on rather quickly for some reason. I think I put the TV on and turned it off after a few minutes to search for Sweet Morpheus. But sadly, success was denied to me!

It was many hours before I nodded off. Yet I felt so weary and couldn’t understand why I wasn’t already snoring away? I do remember the door chimes going – that would have been Josie returning the food tray, I assume. But I just could not get up. The gal knows that if I am in, the door is never locked; she can open the door and place the tray and cutlery though the door. But the poor thing has a memory about as good as mine is, Hahaha!

Frustration was growing the longer I went without nodding off. It was as if something was determined that I would not get to sleep?

I lay there, started to plan the World Economic recovery from Covid, worked out that aliens would be seen openly next August 28th, and realised I had not had a wee for many, many hours.

Finally, I must have nodded-off, cause I woke up, in need of a wee-wee…

.

Indefinite Inchy – Friday 26th February 2021 Diary

Boys will be boys! Hehe!


Friday 26th February 2021

Spanish: Viernes 26 de Febrero de 2021

01:25hrs: I woke up sneezing myself awake; I was shivering, then sweating, coughing and not exactly in top form at all. But this has been the norm since the almost lethal, cheapest of all the vaccines, the AstraZeneca vaccination. Can’t be helped, I suppose, with all what they call; ‘Your underlying conditions.’ Hehe! These side-effects seem to be lasting but slowly getting less severe. I dread the thought of my second follow-up one!

Shivering a bit when I rose onto my feet, I tried on the Jenny donated slippers. I’m glad no one could see me struggle to get into them. Hehehe! A little large and loose and cold because of this. My efforts at cutting and fitting some insoles really ought to have earned a comedy award of some sort. Haha! I’m not sure if I’ve got them the right-side-up or not, either. Got them sorted and on the tootsies within fifteen minutes! Gawd, life is difficult at times!

I took a wee-wee, a bit of a marathon affair this one was. No sensation from the bladder again, a hit and miss and a guessing game! As I went to make a brew of Glengettie tea, I had to divert sharpishly to the Porcelain Throne.

The wet room activities were horrendous, for three reasons mainly.

  1. The first was the painful, smelly, black and red, super-messy evacuation.
  2. The cleaning up and hand filling of the tank to rid the bowl of the product.
  3. Then as I went to wash my hands, what a mess in the sink, from the cloth I’d left in soak!

What the black stuff in the sink was, I didn’t know. But it as impossible to clean it off! It is embedded somehow or other, in the porcelain, the drain hole, sink plug and in the cloth? I did get a lot of it off, but nowhere near all of it? Confused!

More time lost!

I got the Health Checks done. The Boot’s China-made Sphygmomanometer produced some satisfactory looking results, though. SYS 148, DIA 71, and the Pulse at 88bpm!

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, proffered a temperature of 37.2°c – 98.96°f. A little high, but it showed in the green?

I’d not made the Glengettie yet, so I poddled to the kitchen to make the brew.

While I awaited the kettle to boil, I made up a couple of bottles of the Spring Water, adding a drop of orange cordial to each bottle.

Made the mashing and took the morning medications.

I tried to take a decent shot of the moon, but the Canon camera wasn’t interested in helping me. This rather pathetic effort was the only one that was worth anything. As photographers go, I’m not very good. Humph!

Then it came to starting the computer, and I feared yesterday’s strange problem appearing again!

I was much relieved when the computer started up okay, and no none-understandable messages telling it to me was out of range!

I took this sort of celebratory thumbs-up picture to celebrate things working correctly! Hahaha! 

I pressed on with the updating of the Thursday Diary post. Got it completed and posted off to WordPress. Pinterested a few snaps. Emailed the link and went of Facebooking catch-up for a few hours. I then went on the WordPress Reader section.

That took me a good while; I went to make another brew.

The going from cold to sweaty warm continues. Most uncomfortable.

I got the kettle on and spotted that the moon had moved nearer the earth. So, I fetched the Canon camera for another effort at getting a half-decent moon shot… I took one picture and ended up with these three on the SDH card?

What had I done? Why? How? I’m a little baffled again now!

I’d sort of half-expected that life would calm down in my dotage years – but no! Kluggledanks!

At 05;45hrs, I heard clunking from above. I hope someone is not in trouble. I only heard it once.

A dirty-great load of WP comments came through altogether! So I went investigating and replying. Some good lines and views shared with my WP family this morning. Cheered me up a smidge that did!

Off to the Porcelain Throne again. Gooey, messy, smelly, but not so painful this time, and no bleeding! The dang tank had to be refilled by hand a few times before I could clear things!

To the kitchen to make a brew, Thompsons Punjana this time.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, I resorted to the tins of extra foodstuff I had on the countertop.

The Chilli stocks were looking good. Chicken Meatballs in Chilli sauce, Hubbards (Sainsbury’s) cheapo Chilli-Con-Carne, and three different American Stagg Chili-Con-Carnes. Classic, Dynamite and Vegetable! Oh, and a Morrison’s one as well.

I’ve not risked trying the Dynamite one yet, but as soon as, well, if things get better with the vaccine side effects, I intend to try one. The vegetable one is delicious! I can safely recommend this variety. Mind you, they are all good enough for me!

Ah, well, better get the ablutions sorted out next.

I got side-tracked yet again. I decided to get some handwashing done. The too-small, Made in Myanmar Grey, maroon zip-up jacket. Got it washed, scented, wrung and hung above the sink to drip-dry.

To the wet room, and listened to the ‘Men from the Ministry’ (1959) on Rado Four Extra, while I de-nasalised, cleaned the teeth, and had a shave. I’d forgotten how bad the scripts were, Hehehe! And in all three activities, only had four dropsies! However, when it came to taking a shower, especially considering how well the last three had gone, it was payback time with a vengeance from many ailments, all of which had been so kind to me lately. Hey-Ho! Things started well enough, then:

  • As I was cleaning the rear-end, the adventitious right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance kicked-off, with a short but brutal flailing performance.
  • Hurt or damaged during this short incident: The right knee when I fell on it! BPB (Back-Pain-Brenda) kicked off! And I gave my head a fair knock on my way down against the power box!
  • A first next; Getting back up, I lost my grip of the shower chair and fell on my nose against the metal!
  • And actually getting up, SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) joined in the fun! Which caused me to fall on the same knee again!
  • Which ensured that the rest of the showering was most uncomfortable!

All red-faced from the showering and physical jerks! Haha!

By the time I got around to towelling myself off, I’d got a new headache, throbbing knee and nose, and was in fear of another right leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance occurring!

Then I spotted some specs of blood on the towel. It was from the clout on the nose. Nowt to worry about, though, just feel a fool over. Hahaha!

Ah-well, such is life!

I lot of gentle medicating for Harold’s Haemorrhoids was needed as well. I also refused to use the Sock-Glide! But it was so cold this morning, I to struggle like fury to get the diabetic legwear on. That in itself should have been enough pain for the day, Humph!

As I left the wet-room, taking care not to walk into the door frame, I remembered about the treats I’d got for Jenny, Nora and Frank; I’ll take them down later.

I was feeling a little disappointed in the ablution session mishaps. Why? Things were going really well, I thought, until then anyway. Gnatwrangles! But I didn’t get into a self-pity mode… why I don’t know, but I was in pain, uncomfortable, yet I found myself singing away? Come think of it, I had not had a Right-Leg-Dance for ages, well, not one as bad as that one was, that had me over.

I gave the hand-washed grey zip-up jumper the bit of a wringing out and tried to ring Warden Deana, no answer; I think she might be on holiday, perhaps. Then I got Jenny’s bag on the three-wheeler, and I set out with it. I rang her to let her know I would leave it outside her apartment door. Which I did. But I realised when I got home, I’d missed the lemon wafer out of the carrier bag. Always something going wrong! Blurblecrups!

Ah, another letter from Nottingham City Homes. Notification of Restart of Fire Stopping Work. As instructed, I sent an email asking for an early time, 8am to 10am, any day that suits them best. It is way easier to get a message to Nottingham City Homes than it is to my doctor.

I tried ringing the surgery again. A recorded message to listen to that I could not understand, then a ringing tone. Aha! Then another recorded message. I wasn’t surprised. I’ll give up.

Jenny phoned me, bless her. We had a little natter about this and that, and she left me feeling more upbeat, as is her style. So that was good!

I made a brew again; maybe the taste buds are improving at last? And I took a photograph of the morning view. Flipping cold with it, but it was beautiful to see.

I had to make some graphics again, so I could create some templates for WordPress. So, onto CorelDraw and tried to adopt ‘Concentration-Mode’. It was near the head-down time when I got them finished. Tsk! But, I should have a Sainsbury’s order coming, but later than usual, it was the only slot I could get when I made the order up. So, I need to avoid falling asleep at all costs. Tint fair, is it? Haha!

I’ll check on the emails, just in case I’ve made another blunder.

Nope, they are on the way. Unavailable products again, mind. It’s better as I chose no substitutes, else I would have ended up with the wrong size PPs again, and I dread to imagine what crisps the would have substituted. Most likely, they would have sent shoe polish or something like that, Hahaha!

The headache from the clout in the shower is getting no easier. So I made a brew of Glengettie and took an extra painkiller. Red and yellow capsules this time, never had these before?

Still, better than nothing.

Oh, dearie me! When it came to putting together the template, I could not access Excel or Word???

Microsft automatically went into upgrade mode when I tried to open it, but only went so far, and then flashed it was not possible to access the programme at all?

Makes yer sick! They take the money, alright. Now, what can I do? The Swine, Microsoft. Always something going wrong. Grrrr!

The Sainsbury delivery arrived early. Same chap delivering as last week, decent sort of fellow.

He put the things into a carrier and the carton for me. I insisted he take a bottle of Babycham or a can of Vodka & Lemonade. Just two unavailables listed. Thanked him, and off he trotted.

I took the things through to the kitchenette, and I got them stored them away in cupboards, fridges, and bread in the freezer.

Prepped the meal for the night. Surimi sticks, tomatoes, garden peas, last of the corned beef and onions, a Marmite cheese disc, a pickled egg, buttered some milk roll bread, and looked forward with relish at rounding it of with the two fresh cream French Horns! Yummy! The meal got a deserved 9/10 from me. I digested it slowly… Mmmm!

It all worked out so well time-wise, too – as I finished eating, the Tales of the Unexpected began on channel 11. Perfick!

I could not stay awake, and I kept drifting off. Missed most of the two episodes. Humph!

Another stormy keep-waking-up night. Grunglebogknickers!

Indefatigable Inchy – Thursday 25th February 2021 Diary

♥ TFZer Angel! ♥


Thursday 25th February 2021

Hungarian: 2021 Február 25 Csütörtök

02:15hrs: I woke after another long but bad nights kip, coughing, shivering and sneezing again. (For clarity, please add frustrated, fed-up and feeling relatively weak all round!) As I was freeing my scarily over-bellied body from the c1968 recliner, the Porcelain Throne’s first summoning arrived. Off I hastened to the wet room, for the most God-awful, repugnant, obnoxious evacuation it was!

Trotsky Terence was in full charge! Not a lot came, but it was sticky, gooey, smelly and messy in the extreme! Repugnant! Repeated flushes were needed, nearly a full roll of TP used. So much precious time lost cleaning things up, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids needed treatment afterwards.

I returned and turned on the computer… this is the screen message that I got up! Which panicked me! My heart sank, misery lingered, depression dawned, and I was near to tears! The brain rattled aimlessly. Fear grabbed a hold on me, along with sadness!

All I could do was to turn off and start again. I had no idea what the message meant. Which I did! Thankfully, the computer started properly this time. Phew! Does anyone know what the problem was, please?

I got the Health Checks done. The Boots Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, had a lower SYS at 149, DIA 76, and PULSE of 87bpm.

My Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, read at a lower than yesterday; 36.8°c – 98.2°f. Which seemed okay to me.

I took the morning medications. And had to return to the Porcelain Throne again! For a session that was almost an exact repeat of the first visit, sticky, gooey, smelly and messy in the extreme! Also, it took ages to clean and medicate afterwards.

I thought it might help if I could manage a mug of Glengettie Gold. So I made one and returned to computing. Got the Wednesday blog updated and posted off to WordPress.

Emailed the link, during which I got the hot and cold shivers again, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters kept dying off, causing me more lost time and frustrations. I went on Facebooking catch-up, which Nicodemus ensured was a nightmare struggle, Humph! 

I visited the WordPress Reader. Then read and replied to the comments that had come in. The sneezing and coughing called on me regularly.

Oh, dearie me! Off to the Porcelain Throne again! The only difference to the earlier two visits; was the feverish shivering, hot one minute, then almost freezing. This distemperature was not a good sign! I considered taking some cough medicine and a cold capsule. But, I decided against this, with my being on so many other medications. And the effects of the crap, cruel, vicious AstroSeneca side-effects still lingering from last Saturday. Although slowly getting more manageable. The fever is worrying, though. The Throne evacuation was of the same model as the two earlier and took an awful lot of cleaning up again. I’m fed-up with this!

I was shivering and shaking a fair bit now. I tried to take some shots of the dehumidifier and thermostat to glean some information. But the shaking meant this is the only one that was seeable, just! It told me the humidity was in the green, and the temperature was a smidge high. So why do I keep shivering? Beats me!

Huh! Sneezing and coughing again, now. Still, the chest isn’t as phlegmy as yesterday. Things are slowly improving, methinks… mind you, I still ain’t looking forward to the second crippling, AstroSeneca side-effect-ridden vaccination!

I went to get the Ablutions done; boy, did I clout my right shoulder on the wet room doorframe? Yes! I did. Argh!

But, this ablution session was the best for weeks! Oh, Yes! The nasal clearing went smoothly and effectively! No-dropsies! The teeth cleaning smoothly, only the one dropsy! The shaving had only two diddy-nicks and the same amount of dropsies! OK, this innit?

The showering had no dizzies, bangs or knocks pm the grab bars or dispenser… not one! Mind you, the dropsies counted about six. But no injuries in retrieving the dropped items! 

The medicationing was fine, and just the one loss of balance getting the PP’s on. I gave my right knee fairly good clout against the floor cabinet, but I’ve had much worse. No moans from me!

I got the waste and recycling bags made up and went to get them on the box on the walker-guide trolley.

AS I spotted a letter in the box, another one followed ontop the floor, and as I was retrieving them, a leaflet came through as well. Hello, I thought I must investigate and sort these out. The first one was from the Pension Service Justin Tomlinson, ruler, advising a little increase in my pension. Nice that!

The leaflet told me of the upcoming Census.

The last one was from Nottingham City Homes Safety Officer Glen Sutton.  It advised me that on Monday 1st & Tuesday 2nd March, our contractors will be removing the green portacabins from Chestnut Walk. To be able to move them, we will need to close the car park next to Woodthorpe Court to the public for a period of time each day, so they can be safely lifted and removed.

Each lift should take no longer than one hour to complete, and we will be putting barriers in place to keep everyone safe. Etc. etc. I assume these are the cabins mentioned in the advisory letter.

I took a photo of the end of Chestnut Walk at the same time. Just for Billumski, the Associate Professor of the RCMA Red Car Monitoring Assessment (Financial Donations Accepted) of Ohio.

It looks like all the old garages twixt the trees have now been demolished at the end. Still fenced off, though. I’m not sure if new garages are going to be built later or not.

I returned from my mystery tour, used the trolley to get the rubbish bags to the waste-room. Again, all was silent on the way to the chute—no finger or knuckle trapping today. Although getting the recycling down the tube, I had to split it into another bag to get it to go down.

I returned along with the trolley on the elevator lobby with the emptied box. I have to say the Art-deco end wall does look good to me.

I made a brew and started making some graphics to use in future templates on Corel Draw. But the early weariness was dawning again. I made up the remainder of the chilli-Con-Carne from last night and merrily took photographs of it without a card in the camera, not realising at the time. Humph!

I ate it all, although it was only a small dishful.

After that, the hot and cold shivers started. I managed to stay awake until the ‘Tales of the Unexpected’ episode started… but I was in a deep sleep within minutes, disturbed only by a cough or sneeze, or cold shudder – but repeatedly.

Another lousy night’s rest. Not doing very well, am I? Tsk!

Indagative Inchy – Wednesday 24th February 2021 Diary

♥ Yer can’t blame a man for visiting Mary, can you? ♥


Wednesday 24th February 2021

Welsh: Dydd Mercher 24ain Chwefror 2021

02:30hrs: I woke in a sweat, feeling smelly, and in a terribly confused state again. I lay for ages, fighting the slugabed instinct. The mind-muddled, and try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get the brain in-gear?

A sudden sneezing and phlegm rising bout saved the day. (I apologise to any neighbours I may have woken up, with this the viciously loud series of sternutations) but there was no stopping them! The benefit was that the mind began to grasp some logicality, and the need for a wee-wee arriving at the same time, forced me out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety recliner.

I had a wee-wee, of the most reluctant type, all over in seconds. Then took the bucket for sanitising and had a freshen up, but started to shiver while I did so. I got a jacket on and the trews and risked making a brew of Glengettie Gold.

But the taste-buds were not working again. Most disappointing flavour to the tea. Humph!

I spotted the original cans of Stagg Chili-Con-Carne that had been delivered last night. The Dynamite meat one that may be too strong for my tastes? With the taste-buds bad again, I’ll have to leave it for a while before trying them.

Then again, the second poisonous dose of the AstroSeneca vaccine is due soon, so all this agony, misery, depression, and illness side-effects will happen all over again! This thought didn’t do me much good!

I got the Health Checks done. I wasn’t too surprised to see that the body temperature was in the near red. I’d been feeling feverish earlier in the recliner 37.6°c – 99.68°f, pretty high that!

The dependable, trustworthy, Chinese manufactured Boot’s Sphygmomanometer threw out slightly higher SYS 158, DIA 78, and Pulse at 88 bpm.

I updated the Excel record. The SYS and the Temperatures were all sneaking back up a smidge. No point in trying to get to talk to the Doctor about it after yesterdays five failed attempts to get through to the surgery. At least she can say honestly that when they find my body, which will have been in a crumpled heap on the floor for several days, no one calls to see if one is alright, of course. Hopefully, the next Warfarin blood test, whenever that is, the last one had a five-week gap, will mean my torso will eventually be found – and the Doctor can say, “Well, I didn’t know he was poorly!” One gets the feeling that the end-is-nigh.

But with the AstroSeneca vaccine number two to come, along with all the associated side-effects, am I bothered? Nope!

I took the morning medications, and I got on with updating yesterdays most-gloom-ridden diary for years. There was only SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) giving me any hassle typing wise. So I got it done in a reasonable time. Pinterested some photos, emailed the link and posted the blog off.

Went on Facebooking catch-up. A tiny bit of gurgling from the innards started. Which by the time I had finished, turned into a full-blown demand for the Porcelain Throne. Off to the wet room.

I fear my timing was not up to scratch. After I’d got down, I realised this the moment I saw the black and red mini globes on the floor! Embarrassment-Mode-Engaged! The passing was painful, messy and stinky! The tank had to be hand-refilled a few times to rid the evacuated product from the bowl. The early-escapee bits had to be cleaned up. I washed the hands and checked around to make sure I’d not missed any of the ‘bits’.

Off to try making another brew of Thompsons Punjana this time. I got some leeks and mushrooms prepped and into the crock-pot on low heat.

The mushrooms didn’t get into the crock-pot; a mega-dropsy meant they were put in the waste bin. Tsk!

I took a shot of the view through the glass in the kitchen window. Not a very good effort, but I wasn’t too bothered, plenty more serious things to worry about.

Back onto the computer and started this blog going. I found this disinformational graph on the web. A comparison between two of the Covid vaccinations companies being used. Not that one has any choice in which to have, of course. Unless you have a Private Doctor. I’ve got an NHS doctor, who I did manage to talk to on the phone three months ago.

Sister Jane rang. Lovely to hear her, even though the phlegm-rising was back again. It was coming up after a few minutes of chinwag. By the time I’d apologised and rang off, and I’d got to the toilet, I flaked out.

Got a drink of water and just sat down for Gawd knows how long. Oh, dear!

Woke up feeling a bit groggy, shivering again.

I forced myself to make a small Chilli-Con-Carne meal. It didn’t taste right, but that’s the taste-buds for you. Not a lot, but I ate it all up. Washed the pots.

I Rang Sister Jane back, but I was only partially aware at the time.

Soon got down and started a routine of sleeping, waking, sweating, repeatedly shivering—a lousy night.

Bitter-Inchy, Tuesday 23rd February 2021, Sarcastic, anti-AstraZeneca Diary!

High-Class TFZer Bins!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Tuesday 23rd February 2021

Yoruba (Nigeria, Benin, and Togo): Ọjọ Tuesday 23rd Kínní 2021

01:20hrs: After managing to get my body to move for the first time in hours (mind you, I had to, to use the Porcelain Throne), I clambered my way painfully to the Throne Room.

I was well unwell, and the symptoms of the Covid-19 vaccinations remained as strong as ever on me? The rasping cough, sneezing bouts, muddled and befuddled brain, and the evacuations were still of the mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! A little bleeding and a lot of pain involved. Am I just unlucky or what? Silly question!

As I sat there, full of despair, I recalled bits of a repeating dream I’d had. But by the time I’d got the pen and pad I keep in there, most memories had disappeared into the ether. I remember I kept going into a store that sold model railways, and things began to shrink until I could no longer see or recognise what I was looking at? The chesty coughing with accompanying sneezing started again.

I recalled the nurse yesterday advising me to send an email with the details of how I’m not coping very well with the Covid jab reactions. It all feels so long ago now, during all I’d done was sit down and mope, fall asleep, dream, wake and mope, fall asleep… Life is not good! Clarity of thought no longer exists! Oh, I did try to eat something, but it was not very successful.

I took the morning medications, and sneezing and coughing once again, I made up the email to send to the surgery. I searched Mr Google, asking what news they had of reactions to the Covid vaccine details:

A load of cobblers that. If anything that others in the flats, and what the nurse told me about her patients (Including her Mother) are have been through! Which is similar to how I am at the moment.

I made up the email and sent it off. I don’t expect a reply. I just thought the surgery might be making real details of the various side-effects?

I began to update the Monday Diary. Got it finished in an amazingly swift time, due to the brilliant Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley) both behaving so well towards me! Grrreat! I posted off the Diary, emailed the link, Pinterested a photo, and went on Facebooking catch-up.

At this point, it dawned on me that I’d only been to the Throne once up to now? An improvement, that is? Fingers crossed! But let’s not get too excited, though, Inchy!

I went on the WordPress Reader section. Then I had a look at the comments. A fair few in today, my concentration had moments of clarity with them in answering. Another possible good sign that the Covid Vaccine may be relenting a smidge?

I took a chance and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.

Another plus, the tea, as with everything I eat or drink, tasted all wrong to its characteristic flavour. But it was a little less acidy this time!

Then did the first (pre-dump) one of the Health Checks. The reliable old Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, shown another decent set of results. SYS at 149, DIA 74, and Pulse at 84bpm. Good enough for me!

The Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer showed a healthy-looking in the green, 36.4°c-97.5°f.

Ah, back to the Porcelain Throne! A copy cat evacuation as the last one. Mostly yellow liquid with stringy lines of black and red liquid covered bobbles flowing into the bowl! But, no bleeding this time! I got washed and cleaned up; it needed a few flushes to clear things away.

I walked into the door frame, leaving the wet room, again banging where the vaccine had gone into the arm, and for the second time, there was very little pain? Peculiar, to say the least?

I got the kettle on to refresh the mug of Glengettie that had gone a little chilly and decided out of the blue to venture out into the balcony, determined to try and get a couple of decent photographs taken in the early morning dimness.

To say I was using the Canon, I was pretty pleased with them for once. This Canon does not do darkness very well at all usually. I had a lot of failures before I managed to get these two. Refreshed the mug and did another Post-Dump Health Checks.

The Sphygmomanometer gave another set of decent figures. SYS 151, DIA 69 and PULSE at only 79bpm! The Chinese made contactless thermometer, proffered up a reading of 36.8°c – 98.24°f, a little higher than an hour ago?

I made up two templates. Sorted them, in order with the others, and got the ablutions done. No doubt I’m beginning to feel in better shape this morning, now.

I enjoyed the ablutionalisationing today. The brain seemed to be working a little better as well. The teeth cleaning and nasal blow-out went well, only two dropsies!

The batteries died in the dab radio. I wasn’t surprised; the six AA batteries never last longer than 3 hours in total. The biggest con! I left it turned off.

The shaving, well, I must have looked a little battered and bloodied afterwards, but the three nicks were only superficial ones. Four dropsies. I meant to get a photo of the chin; it looked impressive, but I was keen to get under the shower and freshen up using the lemon shower gel, and plenty of it was used! One clout against the grab rail when I dropped the gel and bent down to retrieve it. Total dropsies in the shower, just two!

As I dried off, I saw how the legs were almost perfect! I can’t understand why this improvement in their conditions has occurred. The old ulcer wound still lingers and occasionally itches. It seems the Clopidogrel arks and lumps that they told me would be with me forever have all cleared up? The biggest surprise is the Thrombophlebitis DVT are also absent?

Harold’s Haemorrhoids needed some tender treatment. I had no doubt cheered myself up somehow. I got the medications done and got dressed.

Then I got a few waste bags collated, and into the trolley box, and off to the waste chute and down the tube with them. I had just one box of recyclables and took that down in the lift to the green bin outside.

I had my first human contact for many days, other than medical personnel, and had a natter with Robert, the caretaker. I decided to have a hobble up Chestnut Walk to Winwood Court and call in see how the ILC’s were doing. I needed a bit of exercise.

I met with Penny, who was going to the bus stop en route. We had a laugh together. The Wardens were busy, said hello and wandered back to the flats. I was so annoyed with myself for forgetting to take the camera with me, Grrr!

I missed taking a shot of a murder of crows! I got back in the apartment and decided to take a couple of photos from the balcony in the daylight.

As bright as the sky was, the ground looked in shadows?

Then, made some spring water bottles up and added a splash of orange cordial and Jif lemon to them for drinking later on. I still think it’s a good idea to drink more yet.

I went on Amazon to see if I could get a Morrison order in. Bit of luck there, I got one in for today (11:20hrs) twixt    2:00 PM > 4:00PM.

Nice!

Unfortunately, I also got an email from the Email. About the failure to deliver the message I’d sent to the Doctors surgery about the Covid Vaccination problems! Humph! I’m all confused again!

How disappointing.

So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.

So, there is no way to talk to the Doctor and or inform her of the AstraZeneca side effects suffered, as the Nurse recommended me to. Just my luck to get the vaccine that is the worst one, the cheapest, and the one with the most side-effects! Remember folks, if you can, try to avoid this wicked, sick-making, Astra-Seneca crap, please do!

I searched the Government sight for assistance and found this significant bit of advice!

Hahahaha! Ask your doctor for advice? Great balls of uselessness! Not a cat in hells chance! I’ve been trying all day… Get in touch with your doctor? I’ve more chance of solving the World-Wide Hum while I’m on the Porcelain Throne there, thanks to the Astra-Seneca vaccine for the fifth time today!

So, I tried ringing the surgery. A long recorded message was played, of which I could only hear bits and pieces of. It went to ringing, then another recorded message, ‘We are currently experiencing a high volume of calls…’ I rang off and gave up.

But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India.

Then I got a letter from the Government: Extending my lockdown to the 31st of March 2021. Oh, lucky me!

The New York Times said: After Admitting Mistakes, AstraZeneca Faces Difficult Questions About Its Vaccine. Some trial participants only got a partial dose of AstraZeneca’s vaccine. Experts said the company’s spotty disclosures have eroded confidence.

The announcement weeks ago that a cheap, easy-to-make coronavirus vaccine appeared to be up to 90% effective was greeted with jubilation. “Get yourself a Vaccarino,” a British tabloid celebrated, noting that the vaccine, developed by AstraZeneca and the University of Oxford, costs less than a cup of coffee.

But since unveiling the preliminary results, AstraZeneca has acknowledged a critical mistake in the vaccine dosage received by some study participants, adding questions about whether the vaccine’s apparently spectacular efficacy will hold up under additional testing.

The UK is believed to have spent between £24 and £28 per dose on the Moderna jab, the Daily Mail reports. According to the BBC, while the Pfizer/BioNTech jab has a price tag of around £15, Oxford/AstraZeneca vaccine cost the government around £3 per thrust. So, I’ve also been vaccinated by the cheapest one available? It’s marvellous being so cared-about, innit?

But it doesn’t bother me, oh, no! I don’t mind snuffing it early, thanks to the WHO, who said it had approved the vaccine produced by AstraZeneca-SKBio from South Korea and the Serum Institute of India. I couldn’t give a fig now. Why bother?

I can’t get in touch with my doctor by email or phone. Professionals are telling me I must report the side effects to my Doctor… Glogknobbles! Mission Impossible! I’m fed-up!

I had a look to see if any comments had come in. Nope, not a one! Tsk!

The Morrison delivery tracker came available, and the shopper had one delivery; the next was mine. The chap arrived, but what he was saying on the intercom was impossible for me to understand. I opened the door, but he would not come in? I had to go down to meet him. That didn’t do me much good. Back up in the lift with him,  reluctantly, he wanted to leave the bags in the elevator, and he took my age etc., in the cage.

At last, he recognised I was struggling and brought them to the door for me, and off he trotted. Which was nice of the lad.

I was ell weary now. But, I was determined to get a meal of some sort.

I opted for Barbeque flavoured mackerel, surimi sticks, tomatoes, garden peas, wholemeal bread thins, and some misshaped cream eclairs for afters. The after-effects from the AstraZeneca vaccine meant things didn’t taste as normal by a long way yet, but a 6.5/10 for taste was given.

It went down alright; the sauce was a little hot, but that was okay, it helped to get some flavour through to the taste buds.

My hatred for being given this AstraZeneca vaccine, and the thought of having the second needle-full, depresses and scares me. As does my inability to report the effects to the Doctor.

My mind is still not right,

I’m in a terrible plight,

I’m losing the fight,

My sanity just might,

Be disappearing from sight,

My logicality is very slight,

Depression is at its height,

AstraZeneca vaccine; is my deadly Kryptonite!

Good night!

Invert Inchie – Monday 22nd February 2021, Diary

Dang, keys!


INCHCOCK TODAY

Monday 22nd February 2021

Greek: Δευτέρα 22 Φεβρουαρίου 2021

Forever waking up, at times with memories of a dream or nightmare, and repeating the process for hours and hours… it was a horrible experience. The worse bit now is I cannot recall the happenings with any clarity at all. The old standard on a boat or barge was in there somewhere, but nowt concrete memory-wise.

02:40hrs: I lay there, having woken up for the twentieth time, and the innards indicated it would be a good idea to pay the Porcelain Throne a visit. So, I did!

Gathering the equilibrium and ability to do so safely was a little harrowing. The catching of my balance didn’t work as well as usual, and I had to really take care not to go over en route to the wet room and when I opened the door…

I’d left the light on and the wall-heater on full blast! I turned it off and continued getting my rear-end down on the raised plastic seat – and only just in time, too! A puke-making aroma came with the evacuation. Again a red and black mixture of mini meatballs, seemingly linked together? Painful, stinky, and messy! One of the most unpleasant evacuations I’ve ever had. The tremendous heat in there didn’t help any.

I was muddle-headed when I came out, and entering the cold flat, made me shiver. Brrr! I got the Thermal Hat on posthaste. And did the Health Checks. Al looked fair to me.

I made a start of the updating of the Sunday blog. I pressed on and got it finished. Posted it off, emailed the link, and had a go at the WordPress Reader section. Coughing and sneezing throughout!

I went to make a brew of Glengettie, and doing this, I had a sneezing bout again. I felt a little escape from the rear-end and rushed back to the Porcelain Throne! The evacuation was almost entirely liquid, this time an olive coloured small dollop. It left me feeling weak for some reason? The feeling that I would be back shortly was with me. Humph!

I did the Post-Dump Health Checks. The coughing and sneezing are getting annoying now! Phlegm from the chest was flowing a little freer.

Made a start on this post and then went of Facebooking catch-up. Not for long… I had to rush back to the Throne again! This one was worse in one way; it was 90% water and yellow water at that. It took me ages to clean the place up after the evacuation, and I was beginning to feel a bit bilious now? I keep shivering, coughing, sneezing and nervous of puking up; this is not going to be a good day; I don’t need the EQ to tell me this. A smidge of self-pity sneaking in, here?

Back to the Facebooking. The stomach giving off little rumbles, and on tenter-hooks that I will soon be off in a hurry again to the Throne.

I am not doing too well today. I wonder what time the Warfarin vampire will come? I’d better try to get the ablutions done early, in case she does arrive at a reasonable time.

The tummy seems to be settling a bit at last. I’ll risk a cuppa and some biscuits, methinks.

I had a few involuntary Thought Storms, which did me no good at all. The shivering moments continue!

I took off the quilt I was wearing around my stomach, and I set to giving it a good washing. It took a good while, but eventually, I got it hung above the sink, smelling much fresher than it did before.

Next, I got the ablutions tackled, the body shivering while I did the teeth and shaving. The tummy beginning to rumble again!

I didn’t feel as bad as I thought I would during the ablutionalisationing.

No calls for the Throne. The legs looked in fine form, the blotches and lumps seem to have gone on holiday?

The showering was something else altogether, only three dropsies, no bangs or knocks, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit me at all! In fact, the total dropsies added up to perhaps six at most!

I got dressed, hoping I smell a bit better than I did when I woke up, and I updated this blog. Expecting the Warfarin Vampire nurse will arrive early rather than late.

I risked making another mug of Glengettie Gold! Got the kettle on and wrung out the quilt hanging, and the intercom burst forth. It was the Warfarin nurse, one of my favourites. Cuddly and pleasant.

We spoke of the reactions I was having to the Covid Vaccine.

  • I mentioned my sleeping for fifteen hours, and she said her mother did the same, but for twenty-four hours! Blimey!
  • The dizzies and stomach rumblings. Almost every one of Angel’s patients having the vaccination suffered the same.
  • Told her of the repeated watery Throne visits and what they were like. Angel said several of her patients had the same thing for up to four or five days! Oh, dearie me!
  • Said I was losing track of the days. Several of Angel’s other patients had the same thing…
  • In fact, she had the same reactions herself! And knew how worried I must be. Bless her!
  • She recommended that I do as little as possible and just rest. That sounded good advice to me!
  • She told me to try and eat something today, but not to force it,
  • if I get any reactions from the innards.

She took the blood painlessly. Helped me back into the zip-up jacket and had to go to her next patient. I convinced her to try a packet of the Lemon Wafers as a thank you.

I got back to making the tea after the angel had gone. I pondered what she told me about eating and made up a saucepan of Chillie-Con-Carni, adding some garden peas, rost paprika, Oxo, and gravy salts. Gave it a good mix-up and will leave it to marinate, stirring again now and then, to try eating further along the day.

I am feeling drained again already today. I’m going to take a rest, I think.

This was the worst period since the vaccination. All I could do for many hours was just sit there, unmoving apart from a few painful Throne trips, resulting in stomach ache each time as the terrible black stinking wet bits flowed. Many times I considered pressing the alarm button. I felt that bad. I dreamt, woke, did nothing but feel sorry for myself; I did find this photo on the camera the next day. Obviously taken from where I was lounging for so many uncomfortable, head-spinning hours in the recliner.

I was getting more and more fed-up and out of control mind-wise. I think I was blurring thoughts from the nightmares and reality, and this went on for hours.

On one of the many visits to the Throne, I recalled what the nurse said and could smell the Chilli-Con-Carni mix coming from the kitchen. I struggled with it, but I got some served up,

I was determined to eat something, as the nurse said. I slowly got through most of it, went to through the rest away, and promptly spewed-up what I’d eaten.

I think it was the last visit to the Throne, and I just settled again. Sweaty, unhealthy, depressed, and sorry for myself. The Vaccine has made me properly poorly, and many others, according to the nurse. The effects of it go on and on relentlessly. I get worse and worse, coughing and sneezing again now; the phlegm from the chest feels almost solid at times, destroying any chance of sleep every bout.

Eventually, another visit to the throne was needed. This was so terrible, the pearl-like strings of contents were bloody and black, but at least they flowed free enough this time. Sheer depression and self-loathing reigned.

As I sat there in pain and a fed-up state like never before, bits of a repeated dream, I’d been having came to mind. By the time I got to write a bit down, most thoughts had gone off to the ether. I know for sure that I was in a model train shop, and everything started to so so small I could not see or buy what I wanted? Why this, above all the other crap I’d dreamt of, some of them while awake,

I’m not sure why this should be so special, I don’t know, I just felt it was?

I dare not risk a cup of tea yet, with the innards so delicate.

I am my lowest ebb for years. The thought of the second-follow-up vaccination coming, and going through all these mind-boggling, body and mind-tormenting times again, scares me to death!

That’s how bad I feel. Horrible!