Tag: diabetic polyneuropathy

Inchcock Today: Diary A fresh of breath air!

Inchcock Today

Liaringly A Super Day

Tuesday 22nd February 2020

Well, yer see… it’s not easy… is it? Life

03:20hrs: Up for a wee, knocked over my cold cup of tea, said summat like, “Well blow me”, and got the computer on. Concentrated on getting yesterday’s blog finished off.

Which, amazingly, without any interruptions, apart from needing a few leaks, I’d got done by 05:00hrs. And decided to get the ablutions sorted out before any Carer came calling.

05;10hrs: A bit of clunking from the flat above. I made my way to get the clothes and off into the wet room.

Off, full of vim, and whistling, to do the ablutioning,
A mock-contentment was absolutely blossoming!
Shaving with only the one little cutting…
Fair enough, Cartilage Kathy was twinging…
Botherless dressing and nappy changing…
I felt as if I was only fortysomething!
Doing fine no Whoopsies or dingdonging,
Nowt that was alarming or discouraging,
Did all, mostly painless medicationalisationing!

Freshened up, for the after-shave I was foraging…
The sink suddenly made a lot of guggling?
I checked to make sure I’d not left the sink plug in,
Smug-Mode Adopted, no head or shoulder-banging,
There really was no depression or self-admonishing,
As the after-shave, on my face, I was sploshing…
Peripheral Neuropathy Pete started prancing…
The right leg Schuhplattler flailing dancing…
I ended up with a thud, bottom on the hard floor,

My reaction was whimperingly poor,
The ankle, knee and bum were sore!
Getting back up took time, for sure,
Phorpained the knee and bum some more…
It might ease the pain, but it’s not a cure…
I can imagine myself limping forever!

I limped with two sticks (Literally) back to the kitchen, kettle on, went for a wee-wee, washed the dandies, took a Codeine, made a brew of Thompsons Punjana. Had yet another wee-wee and got back on the computer.

Spent hours and hours on creating the Snippets blog.

I went out to take a photo of the end car park. But got distracted… I do that a lot, you know. Bits of whatever it was were falling on my head. They were coming from the crumbling ceiling inside the balcony! A bit worrying that was! Cracking plaster and paint, and holes appearing above the sliding doorway! I must inform ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. See if she can have a decker and what she thinks about it.

It’s a little reminiscent of living in the old house in Carrington. Although that was built in 1909, these flats were modernised in 2019. They both had about the same amount of cracks in the roof. Hahaha!

Many hours were spent on blogging. It’s not easy at all since the eyes started going, and it doesn’t help with Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley giving me daily problems. Humph!

The wee-weeing frequency had died down. I got the potatoes in the slow-cooker and tended to the medical checks belatedly.

Blood Pressure was down nicely, but:

  I was wrapping the tubing around the casing to replace the sphygmomanometer, and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete gave me a little jerking session. The BP machine ended up hitting the radiator and under the desk on the floor. I got the precious picker-upperer and retrieved it. I was going to try it then, but the need for another wee-wee arrived, and thanks to Vascular Dementia Doreen, I forgot all about it. Now I hope it still works on the following readings.

A more significant concern then – the body temperature was showing as 33.7°c! Well below the minimum of 35. I tried the ear thermometer, which showed up as ‘Low’. Is it me doing it wrong, machine kaputt? I just don’t know!

Finally, I completed the ‘Local Snippets’ blog and got it sent off. Facebooked, WP comments and on the WordPress Reader.

Cleaner Esther did it again… she came in without ringing the chime, and naturally, I did not hear her until she started giving some stick for being overweight. She asked if I had any laundry, boy did I! Then he moaned about me using Meridian, who, after the last disgusting state of my returned washing, crammed into the bag, creased… I would like to stop paying for and using. It shows great disrespect, I think.

Off Esther went to the laundry room, talking all the time as she walked away from me. I’ve not the foggiest idea what she was saying.

Pressed on with the template for this blog in the morning for about an hour. Then I got the meal prepping done.

Esther returned, forever talking and telling me off. She’s such a character; bless her. You’ve got like her, despite her aggressiveness. I found I was using the wrong hoover. I was too fat and should wear the shirts that “You have spilt bleach on!” “Wear them at night only!” So, I did last night. Hehehe! There were many other rollicking, but thank heavens she spat them out while in the other room, and I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

Then, the Carer did the same as Esther and came in without alerting me with the door-chime. I was in the kitchen at the sink straining the garden peas; I think it was Carer Charlie or Kiya. But that’s only a guess. Dementia Doreen, again! She got the medicines sorted in no time.

Not one of my better efforts, for more than one reason. Here they are: I made far too much

① I made far too much. ② The J Sainsbury short-dated garden peas tasted puckingly bad, and most were left untouched. ③ The potatoes were tasteless! ④ The bacon was soggy and too fat! However, the sausages, tomatoes, Sourdough bread, banana (Oh, I remember now, Esther also told me that bananas are too fattening for me to eat – well, she cares… Haha!), and mandarins in orange juice were all good! Overall, my Taste Rating was 5/10. Humph!

The precious, kind Carer Julie called. We had a natter after sorting the prescriptions out. What an Angel ♥. She said hello to Billum and HRH, hoping the tiny leaflets were liked. Who I hope reads this. ♥

As I was sulking and taking the things into the kitchen to be washed, the sunset was beautiful!

I put the tray down and got the camera.

The top shot I took from the door as I reentered the kitchenette.

I opened the window to take this one on the left for the next two. Slightly zoomed in.

So peaceful and serene. I had to force myself to come away… although I did have some encouragement by needing yet another wee-wee. And I’d not been drinking much tea! Bootiful!

I got down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, crumb-covered tatty recliner. And pencilled this little ditty on the notepad pages.

Mother Nature’s Sunset

Looking at these sunsets, was it in a dream?
Beauty, peace, nature so pristine!
Sweeter than just a sunbeam…
Even with eyesight, not overly keen…
I wished the view was on a touchscreen…
You’ll never see such warmth on a screen,
Views magnificent, nothing in between…
Mother Nature doeth capture my esteem,
That’s why butter is better than margarine!

I Fank You!

Inchcock Today: Monday 7th February 2022

Inchcock Today

Monday 7th February 2022

Another wicked nights sleep… although I did nod off about ten times, it’s just the repeated jumping back into wakefulness that annoys me. Another few nights of this, and I’ll have to beg the Doctor to see me. I’ve got her phone number, but I’ve not seen her for a while… now what’s her name? Hehe! Hope I can remember where the surgery is.

I lay there musing of this and that, then realised how late it was. I’m sure there was something I had to remember this morning… But the urgent need of the Porcelain Throne arose.

First, I had to remove my pyknic-shaped grossly stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, and catch my balance; which, considering my need for the toileting, was a long job. Risky, in fact, when Dizzy Dennis had me sat back down against my will, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids took a thudding, I genuinely feared the bowels may take action of their own accord! The second attempt was a success. I grabbed Metal Mickey and made my way cautiously but as fast as I dared to the wet room.

The bowels controlled the release – quick, splashy, leaving a mild churning in the stomach, all over in seconds. And what a messy job it was! Amazingly not a stinky-poo affair, though. Which surprised me somewhat, considering how the innards were still suffering after the evacuation had been completed?

A mammoth cleaning up was then needed. I did find some small areas that were splash-free, but not too many… that includes my rump and legs! An entire newly started toilet roll was needed, then the washing and disinfecting of my parts. Finally, the wet room furniture, escapage and squirts from the floor were done. This was not a good start to the day.

All refreshed, I meandered into the kitchenette, and I got the kettle on the boil. Feeling a smidge queasy now. So I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana instead of Glengettie (It’s not as strong as Glengettie is).

I left the teabag soaking to brew and took a photograph of the morning sky. Then noticed the sun was out high in the sky to my left, so got the Canon on the go again. A three-quarter moon, Tim Price will know what and this is. I live on in ignorance, but I love seeing the moon. Later on, I went into the balcony to take pictures of the morning view after it got a little lighter.

The first shot I took before opening any of the windows. The whole place instantly misted over as I opened the sliding balcony doors.

Hehehe! The view towards Nottingham City Centre had a fabulous hue to it. Not inductive to taking good photographic images, although, of course, this could be just my lack of skills, or better to blame the ailments or camera, yes?

I was impressed again with the end car parkers efforts to create artistic creations of how not to park. Haha!.

I took the brew of Punjana with me to the computer and got on with updating yesterdays blog. I spent an hour or more on it and had to nip back into the wet room again and use the Throne once more! Furthermore, it was a slow process, with Peripheral Neuropathy Pete kicking in and out with the senses of touch.

A lot cleaner this time, but still sloppy. Leaving the wet room, I gave Shuddering Shoulder Shirley a decent bang against the doorframe… Which set Shirley off for a while, but not too painful this time; bless her.

Washed, and as I got back to the computer, Carer Richard entered the flat. Nice to see this lad. We have a lot of things in common. We even share that both of us have Phimosis and Diabetes and are suffering from sleep deprivation in the same way; we keep repeatedly waking up with a jump; thus, getting any rest is not easy. Worse for Richard, with him still working for a living. Cheered me up with that thought! Hehehe!

Richard gave me the prescriptions, and I asked for a Galpharm anti-diarrhorea capsule; in fact, I took two, hoping to curtail Trotsky Terence a bit. I find this brand effective compared to the others I’ve tried… and a reasonable price, too.

I sensed that Richard was a smidge down in the dumps this morning, so I tied to cheer him up a bit. Gave him some extra treats and a bottle of flavoured spring water. He seemed brighter when he left. Taking the waste bags out with him to the chute for me.

I stopped computing and got the ablutions medications tended to. Now Hear This: I forgot to do the teeth, but and however… I did the shaving without a single nick or cut in sight!!! Class One, Grade A, Smug Mode Adopted!

Of course, that didn’t last long. Grunglecuds! Not sure which order these darned Whoopsiedangleplops took place. But this is what I managed to do while in the wet room:

  • Stubbed my toe in the shower against the server trolley.
  • Knocked the bleach over, and the bottle split. To ages to get it cleaned up.
  • Cut down the fingernail with the scrubbing (nail) brush.
  • Slipped and banged Cartilage Cathy’s patella!
  • Water not draining away very well in the shower.
  • Again, I stubbed my toe against the server trolley in the shower.
  • And yet again, on leaving the wet room after cleaning it up, I managed to walk into the door frame without any effort whatsoever! Things are not going well here!

Back on the computer, well behind with everything now. Got a belt-on with the blogging again…About two hours or so later… ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed forth from the door chime.

It was ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Obergruppenfürheress and Lap-Top Dancer) Warden Deana. It seems that poor old Jean, or Joan, in the flat below, has water coming in through the ceiling of her wet room… I immediately thought I must have left the tap on! I admit I was sure I must have… panic struck me as we both went into the wet room to check things out!

A couple of months ago, I did leave the tap running, and it flooded the poor gal out; the guilt increased, shame as well…

But hen we got in,  as I say, I fully expected to see a flood of water filling the place, as before… Everything looked normal to Deana; I was just flummoxed yet relieved, oh, so relieved I’d not left the tap running!

The mysteries of Winwood Heights strikes again! The ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, creating ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes, botherations, to scare and worry the living daylights out of me. Confuse me, too!

I managed to get visits to Facebook, TFZer and Winwood Heights sites done. Get caught up with the WordPress reader. Then ended up making an order for Amazon. I found a new product on Amazon that should, well, it claims can help restful sleep! So I ordered one for Carer Richard and for me.

Then got the Health Checks done, albeit terribly belatedly.

The BP was another pleasing result. Sys 130, Dia 56, Pulse 72. Very good! 😍

The body temperature on the Chinese (Hong Kong) made by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd, contactless thermometer, showed 33.4°c, yet another good result, methinks. 😍

It won’t be long before the evening Carer is due. So I went to make myself a good strong brew of Glengettie.

Took this photo of the evening view from the kitchen window.

Then this one, of the apparently underused central car park on Chestnut Walk. And the staff, Meridian and Nottingham City Homes, will have gone home. There must be a lot of folks still working, though.

It’s getting late now. I wonder what happened to the day? Where did it go? Hehe! Then, I took another shot of a similar view to the first one because the lighting had changed so much in such a short time.

I went on CorelDraw and opened the YourArea Emagazine from the Emails to see if any news items were worth making and saving for graphics to use in tomorrow’s blog. There were.

Care Olivier arrived, only her second calling on me. Nice young gal.

Got my nosh of sorts sorted out. It’s been a long day, and I was feeling somewhat drained now. There was no energy or inspiration for anything complicated, so I had some potatoes (buttered) and a pot noodle.

Changed ready for the head-down, got seated in the unwelcome recliner and… ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ from the door buzzer chimed away. An emergency plumber, from the Joans/Jeans flat below, to have a look at the possible reason for the leak. He did find a leak that he corrected, but he didn’t think that it would have been bad enough to have caused the damage that the gal suffered. Hmm?

I started to watch a Crime Documentary on the goggle-box… ZZZ!

Inchcock Today – Just a graphic wot I made

Billum treats Inchcocks Ailments!

Lobotomy Sorted Out The Problems

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

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

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

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

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

Cheers, each.

Good Heavens! Good Luck!

A Tale In Ode; of Inchcock Having Good Luck!

I was sitting, doing the blog, Inchcock Today,
Got it nearly done, sorting out the scintillae…
When, crunch… much to my utter dismay…
The right patella plopped out of its socket!
Well, it shot out like a rocket!
Did it hurt, was I worried… Oh, nay!
Just don’t believe all I say, Hahaha!

After the shock, I tried to get it back in…
Too tender to do any banging…
After much-failed faffing…
I thought this needed help and medicating,
I had a bash at knee cap relocating,
To ease things and stop it stinging,
I could hobble, but Gawd, it was stinging!

The lady on 111 was very obliging,
Go to the hospital, she was saying…
So I did, bravely… I’m not bragging…
Finished the blog and was not cringing!
Set of to the QMC, without whinging.

By the time I got down to the ground floor,
Bearing in mind, I’m a bit of a procrastinator,
Should I be busing it there? Is this an error?
A taxi will be costly but will save some furore…
I’ll phone for one, but again a failure!
I’d left the mobile behind; what an adventure!

I shuffled painfully back into the elevator,
Up to the apartment, entered, and for sure…
Knocked my knee on the door furniture!
The pain turned to agony at the conjuncture…
I had a close look at the knee. Is it a fracture?

But luck, as you may know, is a fickle creature…
With swelling down to the fibula and tibia,
Gobsmackingly within minutes, the discomfiture…
The pain was showing signs of divestiture!
But the agony was still nowhere near miniature!

Now, amazingly, I was going far less squirming…
The knee cap to the socket I saw returning!
Which I thought was very easing and welcoming,
I hobbled far easier, for some more wee-weeing!

Of course, the thought ‘would it pop-out again?’…
I wasn’t too bothered if the bad luck came back again,
It’s bound to, assuredly, guaranteed, for certain…
But this knee-cap returning I can’t explain?

Good Luck? A stranger to my scatterbrain,
But I like getting it and hope to again…
Ayup! I walked into the doorframe…
Now I’ve got a new bruise and back pain!
That’s better, much more like my scene!
Was this whole escapade transpadane?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Colophon, by Alto-Ego Inchie

Inchcock is still not capable of kneeling or genuflection,
He’s not a technician… more a poor theoretician!
Inchcock leans towards visualisation rather than realisation…
He’s used to existence with trepidation and tribulations,
Throwing his poor hearing and sight into the equation…
The fool accepts all his failures, hassles and aggravations!
Yet throughout, the old fool has shown great determination…
Patiently waiting for some good lucks germination…

Well, he got some yesterday…
His knee returned to the socket, of its own orchestration,
And what does Inchcock have to say?
“It burst out like a fulmination…”
“I failed to get it back in by manipulation!”
“Going to the hospital, realised I left my communication…”
“Back to flat for the phone, due to my vacillation…”
“Clouted me knee, which caused me much confusing elision…”
“So, Vascular Dementia Doreen proved to be my salvation…”
“I’d have missed this miracle cure without memory erasion.”

Hence: Ailments mental and physical can cause depression…
Hypertension, apprehension, confusion, even tintinnabulation!
Procrastination; and indeed, physical and mental putrefaction
Infection, infestation, digression, marginalisation…
Occasionally like yesterday, it can cause jubilation!
Well, that’s my impression!
Time for some self-inebriation?

Part of the Inchies True Make Them Laugh Ode Series

Food Glorious Food!

♫ Food Glorious Food… ♫

But no hot chocolate or custard!

I beginneth the Ode, with the tale from Tuesday,
With food being delivered from Iceland, I say,
Sainsbury’s, I wanted to use, as I would, ordinarily,
Could I get access to their site? No flipping way!
Hence, my disappointment today, Wednesday…
Sorting the food delivered left me in dismay!

I opened the first bags onto the server trolley tray,
Bananas looked nice and green, should last many a day,
But the potatoes had growths on them and use by this Thursday!
No faults with the orange juice, pasties Cornish and Cheesy,
The lamb shanks I’d not had for a long time (budgetary),
I’ll have a lamb shanks in gravy tonight, to myself I did say…,

The next load I put out on display…
The dates left this septuagenarian giddy!
No dates on either pack of tomatoes, hey!
Both lots were soft and beginning to decay!
Two loaves of bread, both expired today!
Sugar snap peas, they were safe until Friday!
The mushrooms one day left, Wednesday, today!
The other stuff’s dates seemed to be okay!

The last few bits seemed better by to review,
But the brown cob packs should have been two!
But they only sent one, which was dearer – Boo!
Fairy liquid was on offer, just £1… that’ll do!
Oh, and the sweet chilly Thai sauce was £1 too!

Then the old warped memory came into play…
I didn’t want or need the chilli sauce anyway!
Memory-Lapse – another waste of effort, and monetarily,
For I’d got a massive jar last week,
Pissed off with myself, so’s to speak.

My Biggest Gastronomic Disappointment Ever!

Sob, Blubber!

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last

I got around to cooking the lamb shanks at last,
Such a long time since I’ve had such a repast…
I could hear my taste buds as they clacked…
Remembering the glorious taste, from the past…
Assured the delightful flavour would be a blast!

My hopes were high; I intended to eat it all…
But my cheeriness had a great fall…
It was horrible! I didn’t like it at all!
Sweet and sickly, for lamb, not natural,
Disappointing and incredible!
The sweetness made it inedible,

Why did I trust Iceland? Incomprehensible!
For Iceland, it’s only typical…
Nowt to fret over, nothing unusual…
I’d buy them out and sack them all…
If I had the wherewithal…

Depressed! I pottered about in the cupboards

Stuff in the end cupboard, to be eaten…
Most unwanted substitutes from the heathen…
Wicked Iceland and Morrison’s: They are Rotten!
Unwanted crap I don’t like sent, all too often!

No shortages of seasonings, though…
Parsley, Chilli, BBQ, Pickles and Oxo,
Lea & Perrin sauce, Balsamic, Marmite,
The innards are rumbling… problems gastro?

Oh, dearie me!
To the Porcelain Throne, I had to go,
Shit! I’ve just stubbed me hammertoe!
I’m just not a lucky bunny, you know!
What was I odeing about a while ago?

The cupboards… vinegar, soups, beans, red, gungo,
Mulligatawny, black and white pepper, Go-Glow…
Go-Glow? Why is that in there? A mystery, though?
With flavourings galore! Core, my toe’s getting sore…
No meat hereabouts… A lamb shank for sure…
A packet of out-of-date marshmallows…

Ah, I’ve got the bean and cheese pasty in the fridge!
I checked the sell-by-date and found a dead midge?
I’m struggling here, just a smidge…
With this Odeing verbiage…
Hell, summat else out of date, a box of porridge!

The Door Chime, Chimed!

It was the Amazon delivery;

On the orders of cleaner Esther, I’d ordered an ironing board…
But another Whoopsiedangleplop had matured!
These and Accifauxpas for me, are assured,
There’s no way stopping them from coming; it can’t be cured!
Their perpetuity can be assured…
I think that can be said officially; rest assured…
Another cock-up, mistake or Accifauxpas will be sculptured!
They just can’t leave me alone; it’s such a bind!.

Thoughts At The Time

Is the ironing board a self-assembly one, then?
The box wasn’t heavy, it’s too tiny, indeed… Freakier!
Got inside and found they had sent; no snigger!
An ironing board cover? Another Inchy blunder?

Now I can see where and how and feel in despair!
Is that not a picture of an ironing board above there?
My lousy eyesight causing problems there…
I’m fed up and don’t think life is fair!

Inchcock’s Making The Best Of Things Series – In Ode

Saturday & Sunday Morning

Saturday Evening

I got back to the flat from the Covis-19 booster. With the delicious, kind, beautiful, highly-most desirable, tantalising, titillating, sex-pot, Gillian. Who still refuses to adopt me as a granddad. Tsk! Gillie put the things away in the kitchen, and I insisted she take some bottles of plonk and cans of spirits, in thanks, for her help.

Just look at thou that the gal had made for me…

She’s cooked six sausages for me. I can warm them in the microwave. I made some BBQ sliced potatoes and garden peas and added BBQ sauce. Gorgeous! Bless her cotton socks!

Getting off to sleep was a Challenge.

The Thought Storms raged a fair bit quixotically,
.Alto-Ego Inchie pestered me telepathically,
Terrible pains from Haemorrhoids Harold, posteriorly,
Wing, coughing all things somnambulistically…
Which came on after a marvellous Gillie day, sadly!
Of course, my angel had now gone away…
Still, no nodding off, and bled when I had a cough…

But it got worse when I moved to get comfortable,
When Little Inchie burst into a blood bubble!
Now, stopping that caused me pain and trouble…
The agony from medicating things was indescribable!
Later Sweet Morpheus arrived, highly satisfiable!

Sunday

I woke, with the Booster Jab Arm in agony, too!
Saccades Sandra and me dizzy, it’s nothing new…
I planned this weekend, what am I to do?
Tomorrow Sainsbury’s food delivery, only a few…
Co-op order Monday, I’ve ordered some beef stew…

I woke, with the Booster Jab Arm in agony, too!
Saccades Sandra and me dizzy, it’s nothing new…
I planned this weekend, what am I to do?
Tomorrow Sainsbury’s food delivery, only a few…
Co-op order Monday, I’ve ordered some beef stew…

I took some photos of the foggy morning

Just misty, there was no storming…

Hello, is it thickening?

Clearer, on Chestnut Way, down below,
I’ll try a wide shot or two; I’ll give it go…
Didn’t come out very good, though!.

No deliveries today…
Ah, onto Facebooking to play, okay?
Mustn’t forget Josie’s nosh, with the chardonnay…
I think it beats any takeaway…
Then my plans had to be cast away…
Sainsbury delivery came today. What can I say!
No deliveries today?

No deliveries today?

I ordered five little bananas, but I got ten…
I’m not sure if they’ll all get eaten,
Asked for 100ml, got a 400ml… It suits this glutton!
Ordered two 60 spuds, got two 500’s, dumbstricken!

Back to Facebooking, but I extemporise…
Facebook went down; I tell no lies…
My plans did once again evaporise…
My spirits sank; they did wantonise!
Then…
I realised the Amazon Co-op food had arrived!
I think I ought to be sectionalised…
I’m losing it seriously; I don’t want to sensationalise,
Maybe going in an old folks home might yet be wise?
Cause my brain is refusing to synchronise!.

Got the Amazon bags into the kitchenette,
Did you notice the Metal Mickey stick?
I know it was there; it’s picturistic…
This is really quite worrying, and dramatic,
I think the word is mayhap pedagogic?
But I haven’t seen Mickey since? It defies logic!
I fear I have become recognised as pilgarlic?
Then as had to hobble for a wee-wee, nucleonic!…

I walked into the wet room door frame,
Only myself to flipping blame…
Oh, boy, the agony and pain…
I hit the booster shot arm again!
My emotions and hopes became disharmonic…
The uncomfortable pee made me feel apathetic,
When I got back into the kitchen, I couldn’t find the stick!

I got the Co-op crap put away, then…
My stupidity; it must remain unspoken…
More nosh in the fridge, crammed in and swollen,
The freezer’s the same; I feel crestfallen…
Getting dates and figures wrong, stupidity is my song…
In life, I just can’t seem to get along?

And now the pain from Booster arm,
It’d possibly be as bad as napalm. Not really,
I’m shaking more than ever, I must keep calm,
But in constant pain from the flipping arm…
It’s swollen too, and I’ve had moments of dwalm!
Still, I mustn’t set off the wristlet panic alarm!

Gotten Himmel, Josie’s  Meal to Do!

Gotten Himmel, Josie’s meal to do…
Fingers crossed, I’m making a sort of chilli stew,
With chestnuts, mushrooms, beans and leeks too!
Getting it made was a bit of a hullabaloo…
Cut the end off of my finger. It’s what knives do!
Looking decent, to her door, I took it to…

I made an extra meal for her on Monday,
Oh, I added some chips into it; I hope its okay,
Sweeties, Limoncello, Vodka… Hey Hoe!

Blogging Again

Got on with the blogging again,
Despite the terrible pain…
The slightest movement of the arm…
Only not moving it at all, was it calm…
I got a feeling of sheer self-disdain!

Unbelievably – Door Chime Again!

The door chime rang out once again, so…
I ventured up the hallway, it was the postman, Johnno,
Bills, forms to fill in, upwards the rent must go?
Marvellous news this time, at last something nice did flow,

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

A parcel from HRH Lisa and Billum, in the Americas. Something that Lisa has sent me for Christmas. Bless her, she is so caring and sweet! Tempted as I was, I did not open it… yet! I will enjoy doing that when I have my Christmas morning pork pie and open the cards.

HRH Lisa, Billum & Inchcock

Bless you, HRH Lisa. You’ve given me something to look forward to, on Christmas Day now, my petal. ♥♥♥

The arm is still swollen, and I am disgusted with myself for making the Whoopsiedangleplops over the delivery dates of the food.

I’ll get better, I hope. Hehehe!

TTFNski all and each!

COVID-19: Events cancelled this weekend – Plus Local News Snippets

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Nottingham Latest Corona Figures

Getting bad again, people dying, others in pain,
Those who moan about a lockdown again…
Others worried; what will a lockdown gain?
Well, it might just prevent some folks from death and pain!
Has compassion and caring… has gone down the drain?

We can’t stay in our homes forever’ say residents in one of Nottinghamshire’s most vaccinated areas

Ed Cleator, 42, who works as a product manager, lives in Tollerton – and he told Nottinghamshire Live that getting the vaccination was the best thing to do. “We can’t all hide, we can’t all stay in our homes forever so you’ve got to do something – that is the best thing to do for everybody,” said Mr Cleator.

I agree with his wanting folk to get vaccinated – even if it’s all a worldwide con by pharmaceutical companies to make money, or Governments to increase taxes without much resistance, or part of Tony Blair’s ploy to get back into number ten! Maybe even an undeclared invasion plot by the planet Omnicronski?

However, despite the Conspiracy Theorists, who march en masse without wearing masks and demand not to be forced to put on a facemask in shops… well, anywhere really, people are still dying.

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LOCAL NEWS SNIPPETS

What’s with all the gun-crazy youths nowadays?
I see little incentive to give them praise,
Mayhaps they are scared, to get their takeaways…
Cause the other spotty-faced youths and tearaways…
Might also have guns, used in the shadows and subways?
Though now they use them in shops and on highways…
My hopes for the future beings, it just dismays!

Nottingham Police Alert!

The Nottingham Police seem to have failed to notice the odd printing on this Alert. These are the people we trust to catch criminals, be alert themselves, investigate murders, robberies, muggings, shoplifting etc. every day in my City.

Worrying, innit?

Off fog-off! Hehe!

Hope they’ve not been defanged!

Needle Spikings?

So, Her Honour, Judge Julia Warburton, then decided, after being conned by the defence money-grabber lawyer, Ms Hocknell, into thinking the 21 times being sentenced criminal, only did it through being drunk? So, she doesn’t even send him to prison, but helps him by putting him on a sort of AA meeting list? A suspended sentence, as Ms (Lets vote Liberal) Hocknell told the so-called judge; He’d reached the end of the road in what prison can do for him? Namby-pamby pillocks like her, giving help, without any thought for the next victim, for I guarantee there will be one, the fact the swine could have killed someone being drunk and driving as well, no licence, no insurance etc. The inconvenience suffered by the victims… Pathetic!

Part of the Inchcock Local News Snippets Series

Sorry, it’s a late blog, but I, but I’ve been u tp the neck in it trying to get caught up[ after 19hr visit to the hospital. And, my sweetheart Gillie, who does not want to adopt me, is far too young for me, the best-looking female I’ve seen in donkey’s years, a kind gal, who gets my ticker going at a fair rate, came home with me today. After going with me for the Booster jab, shopping, and heartstring-pulling. I must ask her to let me take a photograph of her, I forgot to take the camera with me as well. Ah, ♥

Keep Safe!

A Long Hobble to the Doctors – Guess who forgot to take his camera?

I had rather hoped that the last few days, nonsensical mishaps, clangers, errors, Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and the accompanying misery they brought; would be bound to lessen, and albeit an imitation joy would return to the Nottingham Lad. Peace would burst out, and joy would reign…

But, No! Although the morning started well, yes, really. Within minutes of waking up, the wee-weeing were on the move again, and that gave me confidence… well, the hope, that the Doctors Visit would go well, and bladder-bother-wise, there would be no embarrassing moments. The bit I was getting a smidgeon excited about was getting out and taking some photos on my hobble to the surgery. It’s been so long since I saw, I mean walked outside the flats.

My main concerns were forgetting to take the camera and not leaving anything on that should not be in the apartment. Cockily…

I thought it would be wise to get the camera into the coat pocket now, along with the bus pass for the return journey as soon as I got my ever-increasing in volume flabby flobby stomached body, from the c1968,  £300, second-hand, c1968, horrendously grungy coloured, eyesore of a haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.

Whistling to myself! Yes, I was feeling a little cocky!

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I took a snap of the tootsies; they were not looking too bad at all this morning.

Rose up, caught my balance, and responded to the demand from Bladder-Boris, and took a wee-wee, a pain-free one too!. Things had started well!

Took the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket), emptied, cleaned and sanitised it, then went to the kitchenette and got some potatoes in the slow cooker. While the kettle was heating up, I took a snap of the view… the sky had an odd hue to it?

Made a mug of Glenettie, and started on updating yesterday’s blog for an hour or two, then went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time, and got involved in washing the thick jumper in the sink.

Got it washed, rinsed, wrung and hung above the sink to drip dry.

The brain engaged, and I remembered to put the camera into the jacket pocket. I even remembered that I had to wear clothes that gave the nurse easy access to my arm… Yes, the letter from the surgery told me to! Humph! Anyway, my being nervous about intimidating Fog-Horn Nurse, I worked out how to oblige. When I get the ablutions done, I’ll wear my sleeveless jacket next to the skin and a thick cardigan over it, so I can easily give the Obergrüppenfureress nurse no delay. Not that I’m scared of her or anything like that… but I am. Hehe!

The Carer arrived a little late, not that it mattered, I have time to get everyone done for going out, the appointment isn’t until midday. It was Carer Richard who came; I was his last call. He’s been called in. Another carer didn’t turn up.

This suited me down to the ground cause being the final call, he had time for a natter with me. Mostly mutual moans over the NHS and Doctors in particular, with some fantastic tales Richard related. I thought at first that our laughing might disturb Herbert in the flat above… which made me even happier at the thought of the noisy, arrogant, taciturn, aloof Herbert being disturbed by my noise for once. Not that I have anything against the antisocial, evasive, uncongenial, phlegmatic, pococurante, gentleman, of course. (I lie well sometimes!)

After Richard left, taking some bags to the chute for me on his way, I got the blog updating finished, then did a little Facebooking. Time to get the ablutions done. Long gone are when I would make sure I’d got half-an-hour to get the ablutions done; it’s an hour nowadays needed. Everything went tremendously smoothly… well, all bar the shaving bit. I’m still confused over this hair-raising anomaly… Hehe!

How come the hair still grows behind my earholes and nowhere else? Hehehe!

I took the Canon camera from the coat pocket to record this little Accifauxpa, then rushed it back to the jacket, and I finished showering and medicationing. Got on the planned attire… Which must have made me look bloody awful. A well-stretched woolly jumper, with a multi-pocketed jacket and no shirt on underneath, which left part of my chest open to the elements, lumpy… but it was warm for me, once I got outside and on my journey. Which you will read, was delayed…

I got the bags checked, nibbles for the Doctors surgery staff, and Deana & Julie, off I went down in an elevator.

THE ELEVATOR SCARE!

It genuinely frit me when I got in the cage with the trolley, and the lift began to move, and loud creaking noises could be heard! And when the brake was applied at the ground floor, a screeching was heard! I thought maybe it was because I had the hearing aids in and new batteries? I was going to call on Deana’s office and would mention it to her. I hobbled through the link passage and through to the office – but no one was in! Natalie from the Care Team came in, and we had a minute chinwagging, and I forgot all about the lift! Hey-ho!

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!

As I reached the end of the road, to turn right down Winchester Street, so many photographicalisationing opportunities were on view. The new flats being built, cars parked right up on the pavement that I had to walk on the road to pass. The git in a BMW who papped at me… all were begging to be photographed… But No! Who had put the wrong multi-pocketed jacket on, with the camera now in the other jacket pocket? With the cash! Yes, it’s not a tricky question, is it! And I wanted to do some shopping at Lidl and Wilko as well. I calmly spat, swore venomously, stubbed my toe on the trolley wheel, spat and cursed again, and just carried on – hoping I could remember the pin number if I ever got to a shop. I may have cried a little too?

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I’ll try to make the rest of the journey in Ode, but it might not be terrific…

Further down the street, I got almost angry,
Double glazers blocked the footpath again!
I felt bitter and almost insurrectionary,
Back into the road to pass, and then…
Another pap-pap from a driver, an obscenity!
I felt like going and having tea in the kitchen,
Where the hell’s the local Constabulary?

Down and onto Mansfield Road I did turn,
A bloke on a mobility scooter gave me a gurn,
Looked like he’s just left a pub or tavern!
Manners and respect he never learned?

Up towards Carrington, having lost my earlier swank,
I’d forgotten the tenners to swap at the bank!
An Escooter from behind with a clank,
My hopes and respect for humanity sank

Top of the hill, I was tired and feeling a bit queer,
The back was hurting, Anne Gyna too, oh, dear!
After a few minutes, I felt a little chirpier,
On to the surgery, my walking getting wonkier…
Ten minutes to go, not admitted any earlier,
Did a puzzle, thoughts of the nurse were scarier…

Got in to see the nurse, things got zanier,
She sounded as if she was a little friendlier,
“You’ve not bared your arm like we told yer!
She tore at the jumper, she felt uneasier,
When the bare flesh of my arm teased her!
Her bullying attitude got weaker…
But I was unhappier, a proved wrong nurse…
There is nothing much worse…
Embarrassed, I resisted a curse…
Turning to leave, I ricked Back Pain Brenda!
Although it hurt and was very tender…
I got out without any more verbals; things got rosier!
Off to the Lidl store, I did scamper!

Once in the store, I was happier here…
Food all around me cost no barrier…
Escaping the nurse, was summat to revere,
Food shopping, something I hold dear!
With the Carers costs, I should be austere?
But its food, I gave a silent chanticleer!

Although eating can make me podgier, please,
They had in stock of tomatoes, and garden peas,
I got yoghourt, and other things with these,
But I resisted getting any more Derby cheese…
Strong cheddar and apples together, please!

I got out shopping, what a wheeze!

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BUSES BACK TO THE FLATS

I caught a 57 bus to Sherwood, and I rather sillily and expensively went into the Wiko store. They had got some 500ml Zoflora Lemon Zing disinfectant back in stock – Well, that did it! I got three bottles, I’m afraid they were £4 each, Ahem!

It is the only disinfectant strong enough for me to use in the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). I also use it in the event of any Accifauxpas with the bladder or bowel movements. Really worth the extra. If I do have any leaks, the PPs Protection Pants can help, but on the odd occasion, splashes when wee-weeing have been known to spray back and over the carpet or floor. Again this product comes into its own. I leave any clothes soaking in Zoflora and washing soda, or even Citric Acid capsules if I have any in stock, overnight usually, before washing them. A little tip there. Haha!

I got the things bought put away. The Lidl smoked ham off-cuts were far superior to those I had to throw away from the Co-op: they were almost just pork crumbs. And they only had a one-day eat-before date on them. Their beef pasties only had two days of life! I intend to eat those tonight; that was the plan. But I’ve spent so long doing this blog update, it is already gone 01:30hrs! Harrumph!

The Carer came late again, Carole, no not Carole, I’ve forgotten her name now. Tsk! She was not talkative, although it was her last visit. She was so tired but sociable enough without actually proper talking if that makes sense. Still, a can of Gin later, and she was a bit cheerier, bless her. ♥

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Took these shots of the evening sunset.

Then, I noticed a chap or woman down in the end car park area. To all intents and purposes, it looked like he/she had taken a body out of the back of the vehicle. And was hitting it with a stick. I hope not!

Ah, well, must get summat to eat and my head down.

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

And a spot of Worcester sauce, & a pinch of demerara sugar,

They’ll do for later if I remember the bugger,

With the chilli, and put on some more sauce, tartar?

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

The jar didn’t break, and it missed my feet…

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

Off to the computer with a mug of tea, took a seat,

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

The landline rangeth, the Amazon man, a right pain!

T’was then that my good luck, nosedived again!

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

So I went down to meet and talk to him instead,

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

But he left me, in the lurch, there was no barny…

He abandoned the food with me in the lift foyer, the Git!

I had to get the parcels into the lift, and I wasn’t fit…

Back up to the 12th-floor, struggled to get the bags out,

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

The Git had put bleach in, it leaked, had to throw my bananas away!

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

I was pissed off; I felt like I’d been ambushed!

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

I was determined to get the treats out today for those who have helped me out over the year. Jenny, Norah and Frank, and Obergruppenfürher Deana and Obersturmbannfuhreress Julie, the ILCs (Indeependent Living Coordinators) at the flats. I rang them both to tell them I’d be coming down later to see if it was alright, as they may have been busy. Recorded messages on both phones that told me they must be busy. So I’ll get the goodies sorted out and go to Jenny then to the office with them.

As I was going out of the door, struggling a little with the walker-trolley, the postman came into the foyer. Oh, dearie me! This sounds like it may be a con-job?

An official-looking brown envelope, a white one, and then he handed me an ‘insufficient postage bill for nearly £11 for something that has been sent to me?

He kindly offered to ask his boss if he could pay for it for me, get the ‘parcel’, and I can refund him, and he’ll bring it in the morning. I was dubious, as I don’t think ~I am expecting anything through the post? Anyway, I thanked him and took him up on his generous offer for me, with a certain feeling of doom.

The white envelope was from Meridian, three A4 pages, about my Christmas needs for carers, Logging-in, Shadowing & Spot Checks, McMillan Charity Ball, On Call Centre procedure, and a Service-User Forum Wednesday 8th December at Foxton Gardens.

I didn’t over concentrate on owt, but the dodgy sounding parcel postage cost thingy. Then thought I’d try ringing the Wardens again, let them know I was coming down to see them and ask if they could have a look at the Social Services letter for me.

Finally, I got back to the walker-trolley of goodies, of off down to Jenny’s. On the way down, I thought to myself… well, I felt sorry for myself, really. Everything suddenly going into panic mode; surely things must calm down now… Hahahahahaha! Crap!

I called at Jenny’s flat, rang the bell and knocked on the door, and returned to the lift.

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

Called at the Wardens Interrogation and Body Search Room and dropped off the nibbles. Dean checked the Attendance forms for me, and I signed them. At last, something was going right – Hey-Ho! Little did I know what Accifauxpas and Whoopsiedangleplops still awaited me yet!

Then realised I had not put the prescriptions list in the envelope.

Back up and down in the lift again, and down to Deana.

Gawd, it did! I thanked Deana and hobbled out of the Winwood Court foyer, the first time I’ve been in the fresh air for months now, I think… But it proved to be a hazard ridden journey to the post-box to mail the letter… Just when I stupidly thought things were getting better again…

Unbeknownst to me, the wind was howling out there, and it whipped the envelope and paperwork out of my hand, high up in the sky, swirling around and then seemed to turn back in my direction, falling down in the car park twixt the vehicles. So, if it had blown off again, I would not have seen it again… Semi-panic mode engaged. I pursued the envelope and had to search a bit to find it. Still, the relief when I saw it trapped in between the branches of a bush was welcomed, even more so when I managed to get at it in time before it flew off into the clouds again!

I limped hastily as I could to the mailbox, checked the envelope, and posted it; thank heavens for that. Although, my EQ told me it would not have mattered, because as the voice said: “You ain’t going to get no financial help, any and either way, cocker!” Which was a smidge disheartening, bearing in mind EQ has never been wrong with his forecasts… no, I tell a lie, sorry. He was once, just the one time.

I hobbled back inside and just had to tell Deana what had happened. At least she got to laugh out loud before going home for the weekend, bless her. Hehe!

I set off along the link corridor and got to the connecting door.

Boy, did I feel a fool!

I could feel the key fob in my jacket pocket, but could I find a way in to get it? No! I assumed it had gone through the lining of one of the pouches. Back through link passage and to Deana, thinking she may have some scissors for me to use, to cut through the pocket.

Within a few seconds of investigating the jacket pocket for me, Deana put on a broad grin – that I believe actually said, “What a pillock!” As she pointed out that the sleeveless coat had two pockets on either side, one behind the other!

I blushed, felt the pillock above, thanked her, and scurried away in embarrassment and fast as I could… back, yet again along the corridor.

The hobble back into Woodthorpe was masked by the deep and genuine worry about what the hell am I doing? Since retirement, nothing going right, or even things going wrong, has been a part of my life, but I am not coping so well with things nowadays.

The trip up in the lift left little recollections of anything. I should have guessed that Dizzy Dennis and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley were about to erupt; the hassle for such a long time nearly always ends in a tumble or similar – this time was no different, I’m afraid; Well, it was actually.

The haze came over me as I began to push the trolley through to the lobby from the cage. I gave myself such a bash on the right shoulder; it knocked me sideways, I clouted my back on the other side of the lift, and I went down, almost in slow motion!

My Luck Changed!

I had no idea who it was, but a bloke came out of the end flats and got me up on my feet again. See, I am fortunate sometimes. I think he knew me cause he guided me back to the flat and helped get the trolley in for me. Not sure what we spoke about, but I think we did have a natter.

I made a brew of Glengettie Gold and sat down doing absolutely nothing, but fretting of course. Nodded off for ten minutes. Woke up in need of a wee-wee and felt so much better, then? Back-Pain-Brenda was the main pain-giver, but you can’t blame her after that little backwards tumble. Hahaha! I made another drink, and took a Cocodamal, then got on with updating this blog. I hadn’t really realised how late it was, although with all the palaver I should have expected it, the Evening Carer arrived.

It was Helen. After she’d done the medications, it was she who told me what a terrible day she’s been having. Bless her! When I related my day so far and showed Helen the photographs (I was still doing the blog updating when she arrived), She did laugh! Which was good cause it might have cheered her up a smidgeon, I hope.

I realised that I could not find the Warfarin card anywhere. Mmm? Mayhaps I dropped it when I collapsed on my rump? I went to check in the elevator cage. Nope!

Summat else to worry about now, Tsk! I got back in the front room and was going to do another search of the multi-pocketed jacket… when… I spotted it on the carpet underneath the computer cabinet.

I pressed on with this blog updating, and woe of woes, I got as far as I heard and realised it was almost midnight! I’d better get something to eat… ah, yes, the chilli and the crushed brochette, or whatever its name is, bread to me.

While doing the cooking, it was complicated for an old chap, like what I am. Some done in the crock-pot, chilli-con-carne on the saucepan on the hob, and wedges in the microwave, and as for all the cleaning up afterwards… Humph! Where was I?

Oh, yes, I took photographicalisations of the night sky.

Part Of The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woes – With Odes Series.

Integrative Inchy Thurs, 18th March 2021 Photos and Rhymes – Lockdown Escape!

INCHCOCK TODAY

Thursday 18th March 2021

Mayanmar (Burmese): ကြာသပတေးနေ့ 18 မတ်လ 2021

Health Checks

Escape From Lockdown

.

Out through the lobby, on the ground floor,

Decorations? it could do with some more,

It’s not exactly, haute couture,

Off I went, in search of a natter for sure,

I suppose I’ll spend a lot, and come back poorer?

Get some food, that’s epicure!

Visited the Warden Julie, then I caught the bus,

Gossip at the bus stop, that gave me a rush,

To town and into Wilko, the staff were peed-off and deamur.

Getting out was wearying, but grand!

But I forgot to buy a new toothbrush!

On to Poundland, a barren shelves, empty place,

I took my time searching, it was not a race,

Wandered around limping at a steady pace,

Many items I could not trace,

The basket filled up at a worrying pace!

I was glad to get out of the place!

.

I limped to the Bargain Buys store,

To buy even more,

Saw my first Escooters, Cor!

Later on I see many more, as many as a score!

I went in the shop, empty shelves were less,

But items were dearer in there, I must stress!

Lovely lady on the till; I paid my bill!

Out to Trinity Square,

Even less tellurians around there!

Starving pigeons, came down,

All I could do was apologise and frown,

Poor things, it isn’t fair!

Down Kings Walk, nobody there,

To chat with, on my way to the Slab Square,

And happened, I have to share…

My first Pavement Cyclist, of the day,

He came from behind me,

I shouted out; ‘Hey!’

He just went on his way,

His approach I did not see,

The Git!

On King Street, more Escooters I did see,

I5 mph they can do, so they say,

But they park them anywhere, in the way!

Faster than disabled scooters, how I pray…

The disabled don’t get in their way!

I saw them on pavements and carriageway,

Footpaths, even in a shop doorway,

Still it’s summat that adults and kids can play!

.

I hobbled, struggling with the overloaded trolley,

To Queen Street, having spent too much lolly,

getting everything on the bus, was a melee,

Cartilage Cathy, was getting painful, I must say!

.

 I had to hold onto the trolly, every inch of the way,

Knowing Colin Cramps would later make me pay!

Later in the day,

I limped back to the block and flat, with bravery!

Cathy Cartilage and Colin Cramps bad, and feeling bladdery!

.

Sorted out the purchases from the painful shopping spree,

The Wilko bag first, toothpaste, cleaners for me,

Oh, and anti-diahorrea capsule I see,

I got one them straight away!

Then the fortune spent at the Poundland store,

I couldn’t have carried any more!

Medications, to make me feel less sore,

Gonna use the Chilli & Salt tonight for sure,

Baked beans as well, I saw!

Then the Bargain shop bag was sorted,

Nothing exciting to be reported,

As I did this, Cathy Cartilage became detorted,

And twinges from Colin Cramps contorted!

The baked beans and chilli seasoning went down very well.

The innards rumbled, oh, hell!

Trotsky Terence might be building as well?

Washed stripped, and as to can tell,

Into the recliner, I fell,

One fat leg, one thin, one hard the other soft and weak,

Colin Cramps kicked off, Phorpained, enough for a week!

Repeated this several times, I felt overmeek,

Colin continued his hassle,

The chances of sleep, were rather bleak,

To our saviour, I did speak,

His reply to me, was all Greek,

Colin Cramps continued, painfully he did wreak,

For painlessness I did beseech, and seek,

When I moved, the cartilage did squeak,

I was aching tired and weak,

Yet contented, so to speak!

I passed involuntary wind, and had a keek!

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