Tag: diabetic polyneuropathy

Inchcockski – Fri 8 May 2020: VE day photographicalisations, Whoopsies & Accifauxpas. Tsk!

May09

Friday 8th May 2020

Serbian: Петак, 8. маја 2020

01:40hrs this morning, I got finally got my head down. Helped by sheer mental-fatigue, earlier sleep deprivations, extra Codeine 30g having been taken, and the wee-weeing incidents slowing down.

06:00hrs: I woke, to my EQ warning me; “Just get on with it, bear the brunt of what is coming?”

The lightness of the late morning made me a little confused for a few seconds. Then the brain engaged gear and joined in with cringingly flobby and oversized-stomached torso, in activationalisationing.

As I tackled getting the lumbering body mass from the £300, second-hand, c1968, broken mechanically, rinky-dinked, démodé, rickety recliner, caught my balance and grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, the need for another wee-wee came to the fore. Off to the EGPB (Emergency Grey Plastic Bucket) for am HLSB (Hosepipe-like-short-blasting) type, wee-wee. Knocking some stuff off of the corner stand en route to the kitchen. Tsk!

Made a mash of Thompsons Punjana tea. Took the medications. Olive oiled the ear-holes and found I was not looking forward to the Party in the Pod.

Feeling a smidge melancholic, I suppose. I cannot physically move an easy chair and or table into the balcony. Can’t decorate the pod, I can’t even open the bloody windows! Such are the ailments, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying, RAI (Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra, Shaking Shaun, Roger Reflux, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley etc. are all going to prevent me enjoying and taking part in the so-called party. The Residents Group, are kindly going supply some nibbles for the picnic in the pod. Deafness will prevent me from hearing the music they are going to play from the rooftop, and join in. It makes one feel more isolated when you can’t physically join in things. As I mentioned, I can’t even open the new, unwanted, disliked balcony windows this morning. Nicodemus ensured that.

But, others are in the same boat. And this realisation soon brought me out of my appalling, momentary, self-pitying-mode. Bad innit, when you get feeling like this! Glad I shook myself out of it, and took some photos, some through the glass of balcony, others from the kitchen window.

Best I could do
To the left of the pod
Gravel path up to Woodthorpe Grange Park
Towards Sherwood
Zoomed in Patriots decorations

On the computer and started this post off (In between wee-wees, Tsk!).

Put the computer in sleep mode, and off to get the ablutions done.

But had a change of plans for some unknown reason, I got the handwashing done, wrung, and hung, while I sang a song! Hehehe! (Tower of Strength, Frankie Vaughan)

Off to the wet room, and noticed how full the waste bin was getting. Another diversion! I took the bag and container into the kitchen to clean, and sorted out four small black bags of rubbish, and loaded them in the trolley-walker, and took them to the waste chute. Back to the flat, with the toes worse than ever making hobbling uncomfortable. (I mention this, cause I don’t want you to worry about me being contented, free-of-pain, or even slightly happy! Hahaha!)

I was not of excuses to avoid getting the ablutions tended to, (Har-har!) It was, I think, the thought of having to clean and medicate Little Inchies fungal lesion that was making me delay the procedure. (Gawd, it’s a painful daily task! [Coward?]). Another wee-wee first, then I got the teggies done.

I did manage a decently deep cut under the chin, shaving, though. Then under the shower, using the freebie shower gel pot, and the last of the carbolic soap. (Will I ever find any again? Sob!) Olive-oiled the ears again. Applied the Germoloid, and Germolene creams. Rubbed in the pain gel on the knees and arms.

The dropsies were not too bad this morning. Toilet roll, Toothbrush, razor (2), shower gel pot, carbolic soap, the Jenny ♥ supplied picker-upperer, and the Germoloid tube. Then, with no more reasons I could think of to avoid it, I tackled the fungal lesion medicating. “Argh!” comes to mind as the best descriptive word to describe the experience. But at least it was done, I hoped and prayed that the lesion does not start bleeding again and give me break. Tsk!

As I was spraying and freshening up the torso, with body spray, Dettol, after-shave and clothes freshener, te need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. A much more manageable, if massive, session, this time. Although for an unknown reason, it left me so sore. I cleaned the tender rear area and reapplied some Germoloid cream once more, (Thank heavens Jenny was able to get me some Germoloid on her order last week, thanks, Jen!). And, off to take a Codeine with a mug of tea.

The ‘Hum’ had now got as loud as yesterday’s was, and that was rambunctiously so! It was getting to me, so what any poor devil with decent hearing was going through, I don’t know.

I had a go on CorelDraw to try to make some graphics before the picnic-pack arrived, for the People in the pod celebrations on the balcony start.

Sister Jane rang, bless her. Told me to watch BBC1 again. I was waiting to get the picnic-in-the pod. I went onto making a silly ode about Coronavirus and the lock-down easing. Got it finished and published. It’s not of my betterer ones, but still. Such a shame.

The doorbells chimed, twas a very kind young lady delivering the Picnic-in-the-pod nibbles, bless her. Some Melton mini-pork pies in there! Perfect timing. I consumed a mini-pie and took one with me out on the balcony with a cup of tea. Not an easy job with the walking stick. It took me three trips.

I took some photographs from inside the balcony (Pod).

Bottom field
Through the end glass of the pod, I couldn't get the window to open

The end windows were too tricky for me to open. I recall slicing my finger the first time I tried when the lethal metal spring clip that needs pulling and pushing at the same time. The blood flowed! I managed to open two of the front windows, though.

I also waved to a few people, but no one responded. So, I drank the tea, put the cup in the washing up bowl, and returned to the balcony, even more, determined to get someone to wave back to me! Of course, no one did, not that I saw, anyway. Got the camera again.

Hand-jiving couple of Chestnut Walk. Loved watching them
Hand-jiving couple of Chestnut Walk. Loved watching them
Hand-jiving couple of Chestnut Walk. Loved watching them
Hand-jiving couple of Chestnut Walk. Loved watching them
Chestnut Walk
Chestnut Walk

I took a couple of zoomed-in shots of the flags on Elmswood Gardens.

I saw how bad the first photo was of the top of the hill, so I took another one. It seems that Winwood Heights was being photographed by a lot of people today.

I could not see who they were below, or who was in the pods, but I put my best grin on and waved away. No acknowledgements or return waves received.

So, I stuck to photographicalisationing a few more efforts. I noted that we had attracted the Constabulary. I’d love to know who the lady was in the period gown, HRH? ♥

Hello, are two more Police Ossifers with long shadows, going along Chestnut Walk, now! I wonder if they were checking on social-distancing, drug-dealing, or just after some freebie-nibbles? Hahaha!

I decided I’d been photographed enough, ignored, and needed a wee-wee. So, of I trotted to the wet room.

On returning to the balcony, I took the last snap of some folks down below, I think it might have been relatives of tenants, knowing we’d (well some of us) be in out pods, who’d come to visit from a sage, or even, safe, distance?

I attempted to close the windows. Hahaha! What a farce! I tried all sorts to get the panes to go back where I moved them from. I got a little frustrated with myself. I boldly applied extra pressure and raised the glass at the same time, and they closed? I’m really sure what I did, but it worked. It would be nice to know how I did it.

Then I thought I heard some banging, and thought it might not be Herbert, but someone at the door, so I went to investigate…

The door handle and fittings that were already loose, just fell off! Now, this was bad, but it had a good side to it!

With just going on the balcony earlier, I came the missing box of screwdrivers. Safely ensconced in the three-wheeled-walker! Good job, too, or it would have meant my disturbing someone to get help. I managed to get the mechanism back inside the slot and tighten things up. Smug Mode-Engaged!

Blimus, it’s late! Got the nosh on the go. I got the superb, kindly donated Melton Mowbray pork pies, silverskin onions and terrible, bitter-tangy, sour tomatoes on the plate. Then, got the superb-tasting ‘Naturally Imperfect’ chips in the oven, and readied some Petit Pois in a pot for later cooking.

I got my meal served up, on the tray. Rather a lot this time, but I felt I could manage it all, especially with not having any dinner the day before.

I had to nip to the wet room for a wee-wee and found that Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding again. This cost me the meal going cold, and the usual agony, and some arghing. Hehehe! I got things cleaned up, changed PPs, washed and back to the semi-warm meal.

Got the fodder to the recliner, and found that the balcony doors clicked open of their own accord? Baffled as to why; I investigated. The catch was not snapping in, and I had a hell of a job, fiddling and guessing which position the lock button should be in, and trying to work out how. By pure chance came to the rescue, and I got it locked at last. It didn’t do me much confidence-wise when I realised I had three keys, all different?

The food was stone cold by the time I got down in the c1968, second-hand, £300 rickety, none-working recliner, to eat. Then, I realised I could not find the TV remote control! 

I had the most extended search in history to find the controller, but no luck whatsoever!

What should’ve been a super-nosh, ended up being picked at, and only got a 4/10 for a taste-rating! It looked so delicious as well. All those wonderful chips wasted. The gorgeous petit pois, too. The only things that were not spoilt by being cold were the Morrocan tomatoes, but they were really foul-tasting, bitter and almost juiceless. Grumblebotherations!

I put the things in the washing-up bowl to soak and conducted planned search for the TV remote. All rooms checked, no success! I settled down, resigned to having no TV to help me fall asleep! Bad, that! Yet, within minutes, despite the Thought Storming, I nodded off. Yeehaa!

I woke up minutes later, to the sound of something thudding? I struggled out of the recliner, grabbed the stick, and went on a look around, to find what might have caused the noise. I found a lot of books on the bookcase had fallen over. Indeed this would not have been noisy enough to wake me up? But I could see nothing else untoward anywhere.

As I was successfully failing to get back to kip, the wall-clock fell off the wall!

My Gawd; is the building about to collapse?

As I struggled up and to the clock with the stick and picker-upperer, the mini vacuum cleaner, fell out of its charging base!?!? What?

Ah, the mysterious wonders of 72, Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, to complete their given by Satan, ‘Let’s Piss-off Inchcock’ mission?

I settled once again, with the thought, well, dream, of getting some sleep. The late sunshine burst through the flimsy, thin curtains, lighting up the legs.

I was probably the way the pins were resting on the chair, but they looked to be getting some more meat on them? I swear, the long toenails hurt in their own right, along with the Colin Cramps attack at the time I took this shot.

When the evening sunshine dipped, I was soon in the land of nod!

At last!

Inchcock Today – Thursday 7th May 2020: 26hrs without any kip! Humph!

Thursday 7th May 2020

Bulgarian: Четвъртък, 7 май 2020 г.

I’d amazingly fell asleep early last night, amazing! It didn’t last long, though.

I woke with a rare and nervewracking, alarming, urgency, in desperate need of a wee-wee! Fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, not-operational, tatty, dangerous, flea-bitten, rickety recliner. Caught my balance, grabbed the stick, and off to the wet room.

Considering how thin the legs have gone over the last 24hrs. I was caught out by the ferocity and length of the evacuation. I was almost drained and tired by the time it had finished. Where did that torrent come from? I hobbled to the kitchen and got the medications out.

This was when a possible cause for the flood came to mind. It is possible, with the medications being all mixed up and some got lost when I took the tumble and spilt the tablets and pills, on Monday. I may have taken Furesomide instead of either Codeine or a Beta-blockers? But, who knows. There is definitely no fluid retention in the pins, in fact, they are the thinnest they have ever been, for some unknown reason.

I did the earhole olive-oiling, Saccades eyes sprayed. Got the kettle on, and… flipping ‘eck, it was back to the wet room for another wee-wee!

Another almost tiring, right uncomfortable LHLB (Long-Hosepipe-Like-Blasting) version. This time, with a lot of back-spraying. Which needed cleaning up, during which I caught the toes of the right foot against the metal seat support, I managed to avoid shouting out loud, but curses silently flowed from my lips, with the pain making me wince a bit! This flow came to an abrupt end. I washed the hands after cleaning up, and the bar of vegetable soap shot out of my grasp, hit the far right wall and fell downwards. I still haven’t found it yet. Tsk!

I started on the computer, and WordPress was refusing to save my work? I could not find out if it was WordPress or the Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet playing up again. Ah, I see the computer box lights flashing, and some are off altogether!

It’s incredible how some people, go out of their way to make people loathe and hate them like Fries does! Swine!

It’s still new in the day, too early to sign-in for the Icelands ‘At-Risk’ list to book an order. I hope that Mr Fries pathetic farce of an imitation internet supplying company are back on again before 09:00hrs. Not as it says, that it will guarantee a slot being available anyway.

Makes you sick, all mist and mirrors and lies!

Off for yet another wee-wee. Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding now! My life reminds me of a joke… this one:

Inchcock used to say that he was the unluckiest person he knew. He had never won anything or had anything good happen to him in his entire life. Until now.

Inchcock was clearing out his junk room when he came upon an old painting and a violin. Thinking they might be valuable, he took them to the auction house to be valued.

The appraiser said, “Inchcock, I’ve good news, and I have some bad news!”

“What’s the good news?” Inchcock asked.

“The good news is that you have a Stradivarius and a Picasso,” replied the appraiser.

“I can’t believe my luck!” cried Inchcock “Nothing like this ever happens to me!”

“Well I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself Inchcock” continued the appraiser, “Because the bad news is that Stradivarius was a terrible painter and Picasso was no good with violins!”

 ————————————————

I got some photographs of the moon taken while I was non compos mentiss over the internet. I was so pleased with the results. (which, of course, do not show the thirteen failed shots I made, Tsk!)

Distant view
Nearly missed it altogether!
Betterer...
Betterer still!

Well, I’m up as gum-tree now! I went and got the veg prepped and into the crock-pot.

I had a very mild Dizzy Dennis visit, which didn’t long. But got Shaking Shaun attending me afterwards, and that is something new. Still, okay, now.

Then, off for another wee-wee. Things were less powerful this time, and not so much released either. The fungal lesion was not bleeding, that was something at least! Is my ill-fortune changing?

The plates (feet) and toes were still giving me some bother and stinging. Considering that I have done so little walking (well, hobbling about), I was surprised about this. And boy, were they pale!

Hello, the internet’s has come back on. (For heaven’s sake, don’t tell Mr Fries!)

At long last, I got started on the updating of the Tuesday diary. As I achieved success and got it finished, one more trip to the wet room was needed. This time, still a forceful effort, but much shorter. It makes me wonder where it is all coming from?

Made a brew, and got on with Pinteresting a few snaps. Then on WordPress reading. Next, Facebooking for a few hours. Added to the picture galleries.

Off for, unbelievably, another wee-wee.

The knees and pins (legs) were looking far less Clopidogrelled.

A little more colour in them as well.

I went on to CorelDraw to make up some graphics for later use.

Jenny kindly rang me to ask if I was alright for bread and milk, which I am. I thanked her for thinking of me.

I checked the Google calendar for tomorrow: Yee-ha! Only one item on for Friday 8th May, Great! (That is I hope so, there may be something I’ve missed off?) It has been known before.

I turned off the computer, and pondered a moment or two, on what to have for nosh tonight. After a while, I realised I was not hungry at all, really.

So I decided to just have some nibbles of some sort, later on.

It’d been a long time since I’d had a wee-wee but found the urge coming on once more and with a sense of urgency this time! It was a painful trip to the wet room, and I made it JIT (Just-in-time) with no by the narrowest of margins.

The evacuation was of the BOBSL (Blasting-Out-But-Short-Lived) variety for a change. Changed the PP’s in case any leakages in my rush had gone unnoticed.

I saw that the tiny hotel-room type freebie tablet of vegetable soap was holding up well after several uses. I like the lather it gives off.

Freshened up, and found myself feeling in an anomalistic frame of mind. The EQ warned me of more hassle to come! I did not feel poorly or even under the weather, but a vagueness lingered, and unexplainable sense, like: It’s coming and will have to be coped with? Confused? So am I! Tsk!

I gathered some nibbles and a bottle of orange juice around me and got down to watch TV. But watching what was on, I lost all interest. So, I went on a radio channel and listened to a documentary. I stayed awake all the way through the hour-long programme, and during it, ate a banana, orange, some cashew nuts and a fair few Mini-cheddar biscuits.

With so little sleep last night, I’d hoped to catch-up on it a bit. So, earlier than normal, I took out the hearing aids and removed the glasses. Pulled the woolly hat over my eyes, and within a few minutes, I’d nodded-off! Great!

Then the farce began…

I was woken up a few minutes later, with clumping noises coming from somewhere I could not identify. They stopped quickly. Of course, this meant I had to get out of the c1968 recliner, to have a look around in case something had fell over somewhere in the flat. But I found nothing untoward. Back down in the chair. And surprised myself with how quickly I drifted off again.

The mobile phone flashed and burst into life. Huh! I struggled free of the £300, second-hand, rickety recliner, caught my balance, and as I got to the mobile, it stopped ringing! Harrumph! Back to the recliner, took the mobile with me in case, grumped and groaned silently to myself and back to sleep!

An hour or so later, the landline rang out and flashed! I could have cried! On my feet once more, and stubbed my toe on the swivel chair leg, going to phone. Which delayed me, and the ringing ceased! What the hell is happening here? Ghosts? Aliens? I settled back down, but it took me an aeon to get back to sleep. The Thought-Storms started, I could stop them, on and on at me they flowed. I don’t know why; they were mostly nonsense, imaginary fears and worries, but twisted enough to keep me awake.

Then, another call for a wee-wee. I threw caution to the wind in my haste, and rolled out of the chair, grabbed the stick and was hobbling to the wet room, in record time. Yes, it was another urgent one! I didn’t make it in time! Embarrassment-Mode-Engaged! Surely, these must be Furesomide induced wee-wees? I had a wash and change of PP’s, and I must have looked (because I was), stupified as I returned to the rickety recliner. My heart was racing, Anne Gyna, the toes, and Duodenal Donald were all having a go at me now!

When I first got settled a few hours ago, I was feeling better than I had done for ages. Now it was a damaged, injured, mentally insecure, wreck, of an old man who got back into his ancient, non-working recliner. I tried to resist the brain’s workings again, and eventually drifted off, into the comforting embrace of Sweet Morpheus! I think I was dreaming about a young lady from many years ago…

Later on, Globdangerations & Grumpworthiness! The mobile phone flashed and rang out! I reached out onto the Ottoman, grabbed the phone (It may have got wet from the tears falling – only joking!), it was Sister Jane, I’d now got not only Shaun, Donald, Anne and Reflux Roger bothering me, but Stuttering Stephanie joined in! I was only half-aware of what was happening and struggling to get my words out like never before. Jane said for me to watch BBC 1, great news! I’m not certain what else was said.

Argh! Another wee-wee needed! I fought my way out of the rickety recliner yet again, not so urgent this time. But having been caught-out earlier, I was taking no chances, and I got to the WC in good time. The evacuation was the same as the previous two. The problem was that Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding! So, I had to do a cleaning up, medicating session and change the PPs again!

I’ve already been up for over 20 hours. But could I get to sleep again? No!

I’m not sure which Aliens, Ghosts, Goblins or God I’ve upset, enough to be denied rest and sleep like this – but I apologise! Beg for forgiveness, and sleep! That might do the trick?

I gave up and got up. Updated this blog, between wee-wees and Duodenal Donald’s and Anne Gyna’s stabbings, in a mood of acceptance.

I got caught as far as here and went to make a brew. When looking out of the window, I spotted a fire of some sort way in the distance. So took some photos of the scene, and one well zoomed-in one of the fire-smoke in the far distance.

I thought I’d finish this blog and get it posted off, cause with the picnic in the pod tomorrow, and the state I’ll be in with no sleep, Humph!

Inchcock: Wednesday 6th May 2020

Wednesday 6th May 2020

Croatian: Srijeda, 6 Svibnja 2020

04:25hrs: I woke, with the tummy rumbling, and some wind fluttering from the rear-end. This was different! Aha, the Porcelain Throne needed. Maybe this time, I can actually move something, if the Macrogol has done its thing, I thought. Action needed.

I glanced at the pins (legs) before attempting to move, it seemed the left one had put on some fluid or weight, the right one had lost weight. I know this happening is regular, but today it seemed a more marked difference. Hey-ho!

I rose from the £300, second-hand, c1968, sickeningly beige-coloured, none-working, rickety recliner, with such ease, not known for a long time. Kept my balance as well! Oh, Yes!

The toes and feet were just as bad though. But during the short hobble to the wet room, I recognised that many ailments were on strike this morning. Hehe! Saccades-Sandra, Duodenal Donald and Reflux Roger pains were none existent! Anne Gyna, Shaking Shaun and Arthur Itis were hardly giving any hassle at all! Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters were going off and on at will. Shoulder-Shuddering-Shirley as having the odd jerk. It’s just as well, the toes and feet were bad enough on their own.

Things were very pleasing in the ailments department, but experience prevented me from adopting a smug-mode, just a slight inkling of semi-hope instead. Haha!

I got down on the disabled raised Porcelain Throne and instant action! For a second or two, then I hit a half-in/half-out, no-go period. Which was not wasted, I got on the crossword book and got a few solutions done, and the ‘flow’ began again. The pain was alarming, but it did it all of its own accord, no effort needed from yours truly at whatever. All I had to do was bear the pain. It’s alife innit, gerrin’ old! But once again, things could have been a lot worse. Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inches fungal lesion had both only produced a few specks of blood! I moved my slight inkling of semi-hope, up to a Semi-Contented-Status. I still felt that things were going too well, and a distant, nebulous, concern lingered in my mind.

Off to the kitchen, took the medications as best I could. The medicine avalanche and tumble yesterday has left me guessing at what tablets are what, from the selection, I’d retrieved from the floor.

Then I made a mug of the Glengettie Gold tea. 

I decided to get the mushrooms in the slow-cooker on a low heat setting, ready for later. I added sea salt, Hickory and Soy sauce to flavour it a bit. I fetched the Nikon camera and took these photos.

This was the first time that Colin Cramps gave me any bother this morning, and he was in a bad mood. It had to happen, things seemed to be slowly getting back to normal now. Hahaha! Whoopsies and Accifauxpas Readiness Mode engaged!

I got the black bags made up and got them on the trolley-walker in the hallway, to be taken to the waste-chute when time allowed.

 I returned to the main junk-room and got the computer on. First thing, I downloaded the photos;

  • The I-drive was not recognised!
  • So, I tried the E-drive and that worked (Phew!)
  • Then the CorelDraw keyboard selections did not work!
  • I turned everything off, and back on, and now okay!
  • Then when I loaded WordPress, it told me there was no comments or views for this month! I pressed F5 (Reload) and it came on. Having some bother now, ain’t I?
  • I removed the SD disc and noticed I’d not got the lens cap for the Nikon on.
  • Despite a frustrating 20-minute fart-around searching, I could not find it. And knew it had to be in the wet room, hallway or kitchen, so concentrated my failed search in these areas. Had to give up, and try not to think about it, and get on with the blogging! 

No signs of it, I think I’ve worn out the carpet with my dragged feet and the four-pronged walking stick, searching to no avail. Grrr!

Probably because my losing the lens cap and my getting all fussed, flummoxed and frustrated, it was hard to concentrate of the updating of yesterdays diary. But I persevered, with the damned annoyingly loud ‘Hum’ that was weeing me off more than usual! Not much noise from Herbert this morning.

I got it finished, and I sent off the link via email. Put some shots on Pinterest. Then went on the WordPress reader for a good while. Went through the comments, it didn’t take long, there was only one. Humph! Then on to Facebooking.

I then made a start on calling … No, I didn’t! Sister Jane phoned me. As she started talking, the door chime rang out. I asked Jane to ring back later and off I went to investigate. I got to the door and found a box of freebie food from the Government. Obviously, my cancelling it didn’t work yesterday. I might have been too late in doing it. I hope they do not send any more. I got the things in a few at a time, the box was too heavy to carry in. I put the stuff away and sorted things out a bit.

I got carried away clearing up and made another couple of boxes to go to the waste chute. I got them dropped down, and a feeling of expectancy of something different about to happen on my way back, not necessarily a good thing either is on its way, came over me. Someone or thing had walked over my grave!

I got into the wet room, for a wash and freshen up, not the full ablution session. I’d changed the hearing aid batteries and was clearing out the ear wax, and the landline rang out. Whoops, I’d forgotten about Jane ringing back!

Within minutes of nattering and making notes of the things Jane told me I was doing wrong or not doing, that I should be. (Hehehe!)

Boy, the legs were cold (not wearing trousers does that to you, sometimes). Yet the sunshine outside was strong. Jane said she went out earlier and it was nippy. I suddenly got the feeling that I had left the tap running in the wet room, panicked, muttered something like ‘Argh! back in a bit’, and shot off to infestigate, well investigate I should have said. All was okay in the wet room, and I returned quickly and explained my ignorant behaviour. It was hard to hear what Jane was saying, a very echoey line, and she was talking rather fast.

Then Reflux Roger and Stuttering Stephanie started off! Making hearing, well, understanding what was said even harder. I think Jane got a bit frustrated with me, understandably. I plan to ring her back later when Stephanie and Roger ease off. It must be difficult for folks trying to have a conversation on the phone with me. It is for me, too.

My previously fair mood changed to a lower level. I made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea.

When I returned for the umpteenth time to the computer, I found the missing lens cap, under the recliner! What a klutz!

I feel down again now, and my self-esteem dwindled again. Hello, Herbert’s clunking about again doing his models! At least I know he’s not ill.

I pressed on with this blog for a few hours.

Then went on Nottingham City site’s latest Coronovavirus figures. There are now 541 confirmed cases in Nottingham. Locally, East Midlands we are still the second-highest City for deaths and confirmed cases. And, of course, we don’t know if these numbers are only for people who are in, or died in the hospitals or not.

I made another mug of tea, the last one I let go cold. Tsk!

As I was making the brew, that sickly wet warm feeling from the lower regions was felt. Oh, dearie me, and Repulsive-Globberatons! So, back to the wet room to clean up the Fungal Lesion. Not one of the least painful or looked forward to jobs. But, it had to be done. I winced, and gave out the odd ‘Oooh!’ and ‘Argh’! But it was done. The PPs changed. And the medication applied. ‘Earargagagwumph!’ 

I did a super-hand wash afterwards. Ears olive-oiled. A clean-up, I used the freebie vegetable soap for the first time. It suds-up well, not any smell with it. Unless the imagined smell of cauliflower I sensed, was real? It lasted well. Hehehe!

It brought out the wrinkles a bit, mind. Haha!

I used the new toilet roll delivered today, to erm… dry things off with. Did you notice how narrow it was? Still, better than nothing, I’ll be happy to use it for its intended use. I’ll just have to be careful when I use it. Oh, yes!

I rang Jane back, to see how she and Peter were going. I discovered I should not be eating mushroom pate, Jane is having Steak and Kidney pie, Peter is in the Garden reshaping a tree stump, and it’s cold outside. Hahaha!

I got on with sorting the meal. Ended up with a delightful plate of, Mushroom pate (Sorry Jane). sweet potato fritters (Excellent!). Halloumi sticks (Not bad), mushrooms (seasoned with hickory, soya and sea salt). Pickled Gherkins, a mix of sour Morrocan, and sweet Netherlands tomatoes. One of the freebie red apples from Serbia. One super-tasty sourdough muffin with Marmite, and a pot of lemon mousse. having to use the Ski first, as they have a later date than the Tesco ones that Jenny got for me. All in all, a Flavour-Rating of 8/10, had it not been for the Moroccan tomatoes and the powdery apple, this might have been the highest-rated meal this year.

Got the pots in the bowl to soak. Down in the dangerous, c1968, rickety recliner, and got the TV on.

I found a 1962 film about to start, on channel 81 Freeview. ‘Crooks Anonymous’, starring Leslie Phillips, Stanley Baxter & Wilfrid Hyde-White, James Robertson Justice, Dick Emery, Julie Christie, and Norman Rossington. It was badly acted, terrible script, black and white… and I loved it. Pure nostalgia! I wallowed in it! Several views bringing back memories of things I was doing, back when I was alive. And not a single nodding-off! (Although it was a close call a few times. Hehe!) Within minutes of it finishing, I was deep in the past, recalling names of people, and incidents, I thought I’d forgotten.

I don’t seem to remember owt after that. So, I must have nodded off proper, for I woke up four hours later, feeling as bright as a button. (I must look up where that phrase came from). And got up for a wee-wee!

Inchcockski – Tuesday 5th May 2020: Hello, a reduction in Whoopsiedangleplops. Ye-ha!

Tuesday 5th May 2020

Samoan: Aso Lua 5th Me 2020

03:55hrs: I been up for about three hours by this time, thanks to sleep not being interested in joining me. Pottering about half-heartedly, I pretended to sort-out the fridge, concentrated on it for a full five minutes. Then toyed at doing the washing up.

And what a ‘Mistake to make that turned out to be. I was depressed, or repressed, or both, overtired and so irritable with myself.

So it did me no good at all when I dropped the step ladder. Thanks to Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failure. The bottom of the aluminium leg made contact with my left knee! Crrrrickey, that hurt!

But worse still, as I bent to retrieve the steps, my bottom hit the stack of plastic drawers near the door, pushing me forwards onto the floor, and I got virtually showered with a right load of medical stuff that fell off of the top drawer! A dropper of olive-oil had broken. The light in weight, enoxaparin filled hypos didn’t fall off at all. Int life confusing?

As I collected up the medicines, my irritability level grew to a hyperirritability level when I realised the blister-pack had split! It took me hours to find the spread-all-over tablets and capsule. Well, I didn’t find them all. I could not identify the difference between the Codeine 30g, the Furesomide and the Beta-blockers, they all look the same to me. Some of the Ramipril 40g capsules split open when I accidentally trod on them. (They do that, I’ve noticed before!) The Atorvastatin 80g, which I have to take whole, and struggle at times with them, were all found. Tsk! Some of the Lansoprazole capsules were never seen again? I’d squashed a tube of Germoloid, that was fun cleaning up.

So, I’d gone from a frustrated, miserable, self-hating, loathing-of-life person, into a mental wreck in a matter of minutes! (But this was not to last very long, at all!) More time lost trying to assess what was what. I gave up in the end, sod-it!

I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. And found that I had calmed down, and gone into ‘Accepting-Mode’? Even as I stood there, amid the medical mayhem, mess; There was no guilt, no feeling sorry for myself, or sulking! I think that with Nicodemus playing up, the full message of the pain had not got through to the brain? Oh, course I could be wrong.

I got the stepladders back assemble, up at the window, and took a photo of the morning moon. As I stood there with the window open, I found myself off on a Thought-Storm again. Not a  particularly bad one, mind. More, strongly musing, and casting away the worrying thoughts, and holding onto the better ones. This is not like me, especially after my altercations?

Got the computer booted, and made a quick Thoughts ode to use later. I noticed the brightness coming through the curtains and thought it might be another rainbow, so I got the camera and went to the kitchen window. Wonderful view! Made another brew, of Glengettie tea. Then answered two WordPress comments. Got on with the updating of the Monday post. But the Morrison order arrived and had to be dealt with and sorted out. So I did! The delivery chap came up and left the bags outside. I pointed out the can pf G&T for him, well, his wife, she loves them.


I got the large order in a bag or two at a time, and into the kitchen. Despite the horrendous start to the day, I was feeling good. As I packed away the goods, I realised there had been a lot of substituting and items not delivered. 

Shame about crap chicken & mushroom substitute pot noodles, cause the sticky rib one I ordered, is the only one I like, more giving or throwing stuff away! Tsk!

I hope their smokey bacon is better tasting than the watery Iceland label rubbish. But I fear the look identical. A high-note, the yhad sent some of the delicious sweet potato Fritters, and I tried a pack of Hovis sourdough muffins. The bananas were a tad green, but not to fret. I got the fridge stuff put away first.

It was hard work making the room to get it in, I’d ordered a fair bit. Initially, I was tickled pink when I saw they had some Cox’s apples in stock and ordered a pack. Grobblecluckinghell! Every apple was either bruised, pot-marked or had a wormhole in them! I’m sorry I gave the bloke a can of plonk now! Humph!

I found a packet of two frozen Louisiana Chick’n Burgers? I did not recall ordering these, but they’d charged me, so I must have. On closer inspection, it claimes Amazing Chicken Taste, but I could not see any meat in the ingredient list? I’ve never been less interested in any product in my life! Vegetarian or Vegan? Not for me! I dished it in the waste bag, which made just enough room to get the other stuff into the freezer, Haha!

The job was done, and another brew made, I might get to drink this one.

The moon looked like it had a red ring around it, so I fetched the camera and took this effort as the day began to break. Not very good, but it shows the ring up?

I began to work on the updating again, and the door chimes rang out there, ♫ I only want to be with you, ♫ tune. I investigated, and it must have been Jenny or Frank, who had dropped off the bleach and Lemon mousse for me. Jen had ordered some for me on her Asda order, she is good to me. ♥

I got the ablutions tended to. I could hardly believe hoe the body had changed so quickly. The arms and legs had positively shrunk! But the already overbearing stomach was much bigger? The toenails keep getting longer and more painful. Anyroad, the session was another good one. Only two little nicks shaving. I did cut the gums a fair few times when I was doing the teeth, but that was all down to Shuddering Shoulder Shirley. Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding, but I’ve had it a lot worse this. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were only trickling blood. All in all, a surprisingly decent session!

Some more updating (will I ever get it done?) I took a snap of the shadowy bottom field. Funny how the Nikon seems much better at taking this sort of shot in auto mode. The Panasonic is not so good.

I tried for an evacuation on the Porcelain Throne. Failed again. Tsk!

Herbert upstairs is busy, drilling away, I wonder what he’s making today.

Then, the Iceland delivery man arrived. Not such a big order, and even less with the out of stock various loaves and things.

Huh! I’ve just cancelled the weekly bread and milk stuff from the Government, and now they have no bread delivered from Iceland! Just look at the list of have-nots-in-stock! It’s a grand job that Jenny is doing for me. I shouldn’t have to worry about desserts until the next Morrison delivery arrives in three weeks, though. I’ll try to get some bread from the mobile shop on Friday, I’ve enough until then. I’ve put the sourdough muffins in individual bags in the freezer, having one tonight perhaps, I’ve left that one out in the kitchen.

I got the updating done at last. Just one of those days, interruptions and Whoopsiedanhleplops galore! Went on the Pinterest, then the WordPress reader. Then Facebooking. It suddenly dawned on me, the ‘Hum’ doesn’t sound as loud as usual today. I wish it was always like this. Went out on the balcony to take a shot of the wonderful clouds. I like this one.

Those amazing cloud formations!

I made another brew and started on this post. I noticed when I used the rather poor quality snap, I must have caught my forefinger in the farcical furore earlier with the steps and medicine avalanche. Hehehe! Hey-ho! I’m glad I didn’t lose it when I took the tumble.

All fine now, anyway. Just curious to know hat Herbert is clanging, banging and drilling away making. It must be a big model, whatever it is. Herbert might be in lockdown, giving him more time to make his models. Good for him, if this is so.

I had a quick search for the latest Coronavirus figures available, Nottingham and local East Midlands cities, and the UK.

It seems that Nottingham City was having things a little better than those around nearby lately?

Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire are the worst hit.

I’m getting drained mentally now. Poor old twit! I went to arrange and get the nosh sorted out.

Sokowlo pork hot dogs, fries, cheese discs, a mix of cherry tomatoes; the foul, bitter-tasting Moroccan ones from Iceland, and the Netherlands ultra-tasty sweet ones from Morrisons. Chestnut mushrooms, a well-bruised Morrison’s Cox’s apple, a lemon mousse dessert (having to eat the Ski mousse first, as they are shorter-dated than the Asda ones that Jenny got for me) The sourdough muffin, I’d Marmited, and they went down extremely well! I used one of the individual Marmite pots I bought from Amazon, tasty, and just enough! Flavour rating: 8/10!

Got the washing up done, and as expected, sleep was not forthcoming easily. Much hogwash half-watched on the TV. No nodding off and waking again tonight, though. Looking back, when I did nod off, very late in the evening, at least I slept right through for, wait for it… six-hours! Great!

Inchcock Today: Sunday 3rd May 2020: I lost the plot a few times today. Tsk!

Sunday 3rd May 2020

Scots Gaelic: Didòmhnaich 3 Cèitean 2020

Marie, Australian sex-pot and TFZer!

03:45hrs: I stirred into an unwilling simulation of life, and immediately the wee-wee demands arrived. This time, I was careful in my manipulations at getting out of the £300, second-hand, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured, c1968, sometimes working recliner. That’s the uncomfortable, rickety, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner. That xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward. And he fitted new CCTC cameras, then searched for my valuables, which he found and took. (I still haven’t got all of the money back yet, nine-months later).

I avoided any Accifauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplops guilefully, I thought. Off I limped to the wet room, and still managed to arrive in plenty of time. Smug-Mode-Adopted! The action was again swift and rapid, perhaps a more difficult evacuation, but far less hurtful, which pleased me. Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding overnight, so a clean and medicating session was needed. (Always a painful, tender and delicate job, Tsk!)

New PP’s, a wash of the hands, that encapsulated my dropping the soap at least three times! Yes, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up a tad already. This didn’t bode well for any physical tasks, making the meals or decent typing for today. But, you never know with my ailments, many come and go at their leisure for varying lengths of time. The important thing, was no Dizzy Dennis, Saccades Sandra, Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Shuddering Shoulders Shirley, Toothache Tim, Earache Eric, or Memory blanks had been of any bother, yet. Even Arthur Itis and Duodenal Donald were only playing at it this morning. The toes and feet were, of course, making up for the absence of effort from their fellow ailments. Hahaha! 

To the kitchen, took the medications, and made a brew.

Got the computer on with a degree of assiduity and diligence. Then got on with the updating of the Saturday diary. Despite Nicodemus’s problems, I pressed on and got it completed. Emailed the links. Put some bits on Pinterest. Then, I went on the WordPress Reader section. Next, I read the comments, and one from Tim Price from New Mexico, made me laugh out loud. He’d made a parody of my mentioning a stand-alone wee-wee in Friday’s blog. I’ll show it here, it was hilarious for me! Hehehe! 

It goes to Green Day’s tune “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”

“In the Wet Room of Broken Wees”

I’m standing on my feet
In the wet room of broken wees
Although I never sleep
I’m in the Twighlight Zone
And I wee-wee alone

I’m standing at the throne
Trying to wee-wee but I can’t go
The is some broken wind
I’m locked down and I wee-wee alone

I’m standing on my feet
In the wet room of broken wees
Although I never sleep
I’m in the Twighlight Zone
And I wee-wee alone

Inchy’s the only one the hangs there with me
Besides my heart, the sock-glide gives me a beating
I wish someone would come in and assist me
Until then I wee-wee alone

I’m standing on my feet
In the wet room of broken wees
Although I never sleep
I’m in the Twighlight Zone
And I wee-wee alone.

I went on Facebooking, The Troll Free Zone, then the Winwood Heights page.

Where I published some photographs of when the nightmare upgrading was taking place. Also, one from the morning of 20th March 2018, 23:45hrs, when I opened the curtain to see a pigeon asleep and pooping at the same time on the scaffolding. I didn’t-half scare the poor thing! Har-har!

Then, it was time for another brew, as soon as I’d made the mug of Glengettie tea, the need for the Porcelain Throne came again. Off to the wet room. Where nothing moved, rock-solid! Despite the wind and bubbling innards? Another sign of problems to come?

I fear that when I returned to the kitchen, I had a sudden and mysterious, unexpected attack of psychasthenia. The mind did not function in any way like usual, I was ultra-vague in thought, and my balance went! Although this only lasted for perhaps a minute, it left me with feelings of neurasthenia, and it was disquieting, to say the least. I could not even press the alarm alert button, although I’m now glad I didn’t, for everything came back into logic and vision another minute later. I felt as if I had dreamt the whole thing, and it hadn’t actually happened. Maybe it didn’t? Yes, it did!

I gingerly made another brew, to replace the one that had gone cold. My brain was working well again because I remembered to make and take some Macrogol powder, to tackle Constipation Conrad’s resistance to movement. I took a photo of the sky and the amazingly appealing clouds, although they bode rain for later on.

As I went to close the thick-framed, letting-in-rain, light & view-blocking kitchen window, I thought I heard some weird grinding noise from I knew not where. I took a blind shot of Chestnut walk below, but there were no signs of anything that might have made the sound I heard?

I decided after the mug of tea went cold again, to get the ablutions done. It will be a long job this time. I didn’t shave yesterday, so I need to take extra care not to have any cuts. And the showering time today, I’ll make the weekly deep-medicationalisationing session. Tubes and inserts already readied. I’ll use the time to think about what to do regarding the funny turn I had. But I feel fine now.

Put the computer into sleep mode,  and hobbled off to the wet room. Back in a bit, hopefully. Hehe!

All done, and I am astoundingly, mind-bogglingly amazed! No, I say, No toe-stubbing, No knocking anything off of the shelves, no sock-glide battle (fair enough, I’m still not wearing socks cause of long nails), only two tiny nicks shaving, and only four dropsies. A safety record for ablutionalisationing that will never be beaten, indeed?

I got freshened up and medicated again, and set about making the 71’s nosh. All done and delivered. Then made a start on my meal.

The crispy fish balls in batter with salt & vinegar. Some onions, and mushy peas. I’d forgot to get the bread out of the freezer, so I’ll go without. No chips or potatoes, as I ate a lot of made-to-much, cheesy potatoes, I made for Josie.

Updated this blog a bit, then went to check on the fodder cooking. During which, Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shoulder Shirley both had a go at me. I got the meal served eventually, turned off the computer and sat there, right arm, shoulder and leg shaking, convulsing and vibrating so much, that if I was wearing false teeth, I might have lost them! Tsk! Not a good day, healthwise!

Got the meal prepped and served up, into the recliner, got the headphones (I’ve taped them up so I can still them, but they are not functioning properly since I sat on them and broke them. Humph). Still, better than nothing. I thought I’d coped well with the preparations and serving, and by the time I was ready to take the tray through, there were many odd bits and sploshes all over the kitchen that will need cleaning up later. Gnash-and-spit!

Another bit of a blank spell. I must have nodded off. I woke up, the TV on, the headphones on the next chair? The tray was amazingly, still balanced on my bulbously bloated stomach and spindly legs, with much fodder still on it.

In the waste bin, was many tissues (no blood on any), the pot of yoghourt, the lemon tart, the unopened can of clementine juice, and the note pad and pen? I couldn’t give a Taste Rating, cause I can’t remember eating it. Not that I ate a lot of it anyway.

I forced myself up, and precariously wobbled to the kitchen and got the pot washing done. I noticed that all the saucepans and cutlery from cooking had already been washed and on the drainer. The messes on the floor from the earlier Nicodemus-controlled dropsies had not been cleaned up. I think I felt confused, yet disinterested. 

I finished the pots, retrieved the full can of clementine juice and pen from the waste bin (the notepad was ruined, wet and unreadable, so I left that).

I settled in the chair again and pondered over just what had been going on. Why had I not eaten much? (Ageusia?) Why throw the full can of clementine juice, the full pot of yoghourt, and pen and pad away? Why? How? When?

It’s been a mentally-challenging day. Yet apart from feeling tired and drained, I had a certain nippiness of mind at this moment. Then the Thought Storms began, fears, worries, and tension, but without the usual self-blame and criticisms, which was very welcome!

Unanticipatedly, and as never known before, the storm of emotions stopped abruptly. Then the memories came flooding in from the brain, but not the bad ones, only the good and seemingly doctored ones. Good heavens, I like that! 

Inchcockski – Saturday 25th April 2020: Humph! The mostest painful toe-stubbing ever!

Saturday 25th April 2020

Samoan: Aso Toʻonaʻi 25 Aperila 2020

02:45hrs: I woke up, and stirred with a certain reluctance. Brought about by my anxiety of what the next mistake, error, memory lapse, blank-spell or tumble will bring forth with it.

No doubt about it, my confidence was low today to start with. It was almost like waking up a different person. The mind tormented and changed, I expect, from the four weeks of self-isolation. The thought of my being given instructions to keep isolated for another twelve weeks, and aware of all the problems that have arisen already, are doing me no good at all.

Determined not to get uptight and despondent like the last two days, I deliberated and brain-stormed in search of some positives from the situation. I surprised myself in how many I came up with. Most of the deformed, or contrived, but they made me feel a bit better, just for thinking of the silliness in most of them:

  1. I’ve avoided injuries galore, by not putting any socks on, and avoiding the daily battle with the Sock-Glide! (Although, I do have  a fear of having to use it again)
  2. No buses. So no catching the wrong one!
  3. No buses. So no falling asleep on them and missing the bus stop!
  4. No buses. So no forgetting the bus pass, reading glasses, hearing-aids, cash, wristwatch, alert-cards and wristlets, mobile phone, medications or shopping list!
  5. No waiting in the lift lobby, as the cages keep going up and down missing the twelfth floor altogether, repeatedly and then being delayed and missing the bus!

Searching for some silver-linings, no matter how far-fetched, still felt of some benefit to this mentally mangled-mind of mine. For a few moments, anyway!

As I was slowly and unenthusiastically removing my flabby-bulk from the second-hand, £300, uncomfortable, c1968, rickety-relic of a recliner, and grabbed the stick, the need for a wee-wee came on suddenly, and urgently. It was crucial that I responded with all alacrity available, to avoid any undue leakages.

When I got in the wet room, and the flow, flowed with an amazing forcefulness for once, as opposed to the trickling efforts of the last few days. I noticed the lower right arm had gone a speckly red-orange colour? Still, it made a change from the usual pale bloodless white.

I washed my hands as I did so, the damned carbolic soap shot out of my palm, bounced off of the wall, and straight down in the toilet bowl! That’s the end of that then. I’ll have a ferret around in the airing cupboard later, to see if I can any soap in there. I wonder if they have invented a miracle soap, toothpaste, spectacles and hearing aids magnet, and are testing it in my bog? Hahaha!

Into the kitchen, and took the medications, guzzled a load of the inefficacious, unfructuous, otiose Peptac to try to calm Duodenal Donald down a bit. Made a brew and opened the window to see what the odd noise was, found no cause for it, and took a photo of the morning view of the twinkling Nottingham lights.

I got on with the sad Saturday post. Plodded away and got it done. Emailed the links. Pinterested two photos. Then on TFZer Facebooking. WordPress Reader next.

About 08:30hrs, I got the template for this one done, and started creating it. But had to divert to the Porcelain Throne.

Ah, well, Trotski Terence didn’t last long, back to Constipation Conrad being in charge again. Ten minutes after starting, and a lot of effort and pain, the evacuation was finished, with a certain relief all around my body. Hehe! I went to the sink to get a wash, and couldn’t find the soap. I actually started searching around for it, it took a minute or so before I remembered I’d dropped in down the toilet earlier. Ay-yay-yay! What an Eizel! I must ask the Doctor if I can remember her, and where the surgery is later after the isolation period ends if it ever does… now, what was I going to ask her? Oh, yes! If the Peripheral Pete Neuropathy inspired Nicodemus Neurtranmitter end dying, could be causing me to be losing it with the memory, and failure to grasp, and fear of doing so, almost everything nowadays? I think?

I then had a check on the WordPress comments. Then started this blog going.

I went on Gmail to check again if any new stuff had arrived, and found a couple, one from Iceland (on the left here). This is an example of me struggling to comprehend things. Does this mean… well what does it mean? I have an order in for Monday already?

Make amends to your order. I imagine that amendments as meant?

A strict time allowed. So, I waited until 10.00am, and carried on with the blogging duties. But with confusion milling about in my head!

Well, as they say on the message, they hope this makes life a little easier, but this doesn’t make my life a little easier! Does this mean its a one-off, do I have to do it next week? Confusionableitis is rampant! If I do make an order, will they send it if I already have one in with them? Oh, Wallupperisticles and Finglegoberisations! So, I made one. At ten o’clock, I pressed the link button and got more messages before it let me on the site. I clicked to book a slot and got one in for Tuesday. 8 >10am.

Well, this is likely to cause me more bother than if I’d not done it. I don’t know if it will be valid. On Monday, I have an order coming that will fill the cupboards and fridge, now I’ve ordered some more for Tuesday! Hopefully, if it does come, I can share some with Jenny, as a sort of thank you. I hope she’s got some room in her fridge and freezer. Doing silly things comes so much easier nowadays!

I made brew, and had some mini-cheddars with it, and watched some UTube stuff while I had the odd breakfast.

Sister Jane and Brother in Law Pete sent me a photograph of their latest just received freebie box of fodder. (Right one doctored by yours truly, to show what they really meant. Hahaha!)

Talk about taking the wee-wee! Hahaha!

But I’m not jealous. Oh, no! Not at all.

Thanks, Pete and Jane, gave me a rare laugh, and much appreciated too!

Fatigue Francis, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and Dizzy Dennis, all convinced me to stop, make some nosh and have a sit-down. But my appetite and gluttony came to the fore, and I decided to make a nosh instead. The Iceland beefburgers, tempted me. They are not fatty at all, this was the appeal of them. I hope they don’t make Duodenal Donald any worse than he already is.

Simple enough meal. The last of my low-fat, ‘Naturally Imperfect’ oven chips were crispy and not fatty at all. The burgers were grand. The last of the piccolo tomatoes were wonderful, a Marmite and plain cheese disc were okay.

No bread, the loaf I had in was going mouldy, so I dished it. But that was a good thing, no need for bread with every meal, I’m getting used to it now. The low-calorie thin weak yoghourt was made edible with the addition of some Maple syrup, and it was all devoured and masticated with great joy! Flavour rated at 8.8/10!

I did the pots. Considered doing the hand-washing, but chickened out.

I took the evening medications. Olive oiled the ear-holes, made up a bottle of spring water with added the last of the Orange Barley, had a wee-wee.

Then settled down to watch some TV, with a certainty that sleep would surely come early tonight, after all, I was feeling mentally drained. AS long as the Thought-Storms didn’t kick-off.

I opted to watch some Rosemary & Thyme episodes. I watched all the way through the first one, without a single no-off. By cunningly changing and scrolling through the other channels when the advert-breaks came on. (Swank-Mode-Engaged!)

I had to visit the Porcelain Throne after this episode finished. What a performance that was. Constipation Conrad had really taken over the rear-end proceedings. Pain, blood, crosswording and a toe-stubbing! With not being able to get the toe-nails cut anywhere, this was the most painful stub of all time! (Sunday a.m.: It’s currently competing with Duodenal Donald for the position of Top-Dog in the ailment ratings!) Little Inchies fungal lesion needed cleaning and sorting, more agony!

A different version of Inchcock returned to his £300, second-hand, uncomfortable, c1968, not-working rickety recliner. A sad, grumpy thing, who became sadderer, when sleep refused to come, he didn’t even have any nodding-offs.

Poor old sausage!

Unchcock, no, Inchcock Today – Thursday 23rd April 2020: Dreich, Frustrated. Hey-ho!

Thursday 23rd April 2020

Norwegian: Torsdag 23 April 2020

04:00hrs: Woke up wanting a wee-wee. Staggered up to my feet, and over to the bucket, took a WUT (Weak-Unwilling-Trickling) wee-wee. It took me a while, unwilling to start and pass as it was, it also seemed reluctant to stop as well.

This gave me time to assess the ailments and plans of things to get done. In the forefront of thoughts was the getting through to the Zoom site. But having got a membership yesterday, I thought it would be okay this time. Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna were seemingly the worsed of my attackers this morning, both on form and getting worse as the day went on. Unfortunately, this caused my usual old man’s grumpiness to turn to an annoying niggly grumpiness,  that was not doing a lot to help me cope with Donald and Anne Gyna, and a sport of resentment at my condition, helped the darkness to take over.

As I walked with the single walking stick to the kitchen, some letters at the front door caught my attention. I investigated. I opened Corona Virus one, but there were five A4 pages of things, instructions, etc. I mustn’t read and digest all the much-repeated guidelines. About the virus and lock-down. I’ll get it digested when I get the time.

The Anticoagulation Haemostasis Deep-Vein Arterial Thrombosis Clinic next. The Warfarin result, shown it down a tad at 2.4 this time. The next blood test is due not until Tue 15th May, in three weeks time. So, no Nurses to visit me for a while, this didn’t help my blackness.

The last letter was from Ingeus, ‘Preparing You, for a healthier you.’ Huh!

The mushrooms were put in the slow cooker on a low setting.

I got on the computer, was busying away twixt CorelDraw graphics and Wordressing updating the Wednesday post for many hours. Then Pinterested and Facebooked some photos. Emailed the link. Then off to get the Ablutions done.

I had to hurry along a bit, as I was scared of missing the log-on time for the Ingeus, Zoom session. The legs looked a little pale, a contrast to how I felt, black and depressed, but couldn’t help it – it just persisted.

The dropsies during the ablutioning session were not overly too many. But getting freshened up and medicated, brought much aggravation and frustration to me! I knocked a lot of things off of the floor cabinet and proceeded to take some skin off of my knuckles, bang my head a few times, and dropped the picker-upperer while trying to retrieve the items. Ashamedly, I was getting angrier with myself, and more wound-up all the time! Duodenal Donald was getting annoyed with me, as well! The sorting things out took far too long, and I was in a-right pent-up and repressed mood, now! I got half-dressed and rushed to the computer with only minutes to spare.

I was in the middle of trying to log on Zoom when Sister Jane rang. I explained the state I was in and promised to ring back later.

I got through to my appropriate page, and I thought things were going well. Hahaha, Idiot!

I put in the password as sent me by Ingeus and saved, with almost semi-confidence, I thought this is it, I’m getting online at last. Pillock!

The password was rejected, and I was totally lost now. So I came out of Zoom altogether and tried again. I couldn’t get on Zoom at all after that!

I sat there wondering what to try next, or if there was anything I could do at all! My depression deepened. Duodenal Donald got as bad as I have ever suffered, Anne Gyna continued to stab all over my upper torso. Dizzy Dennis put his bit in as well. My finding of words is not usually a problem for me, even if I can’t remember how to spell them and have to look the word up on Word Hippo. But how I felt at this moment could not be described, other than low and black.

This did not last for too long, mind. Somehow or other, after a period of self-analysis, and self-criticism, I fought off much of the blackness. By resigning to the fact that I no longer wanted to be put through the torment of Ingeus’s lack of support or cold responses, and the vagaries of the Zoom sight. Obviously, I am never going to master it, so why put myself through all the worry about it. I shall not even bother trying again. Thus, freeing myself a little, in the mind.

Of course, when the anti-empathetic staff call me, and they will, no doubt, I shall try not to listen to their useless read from a bit of some book advice or recommendations any more, and just tell them I am not up to trying anymore. If this causes diabetes to croak me out early, so be it. Anyway, the Coronavirus or any one of other my ailments can whip me away at any time.

I do not need this hassle, cannot cope with it.  I can get myself all muddled up on my own, thank you. And Duodenal Donald and Ann Gyna are not easing off any, and now as I type this, Toothache Tim is kicking off again.

Thankfully, and I can’t figure out why, but Nicodemus’s Neuroltramitters, Hernia Harry, Reflux Roger, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Saccades Sandra, Trotsky Terence, Clopidogrel Clive, Thrombophlebitis-Fred, Shaking Shaun, and Peripheral Pete, Haemorrhoid Harold, Back-Pain Brenda and Impetigo-Imogen, each and every one of them, are in a good mood with me this morning! A united front, against the blackness.

I’ve no idea if my decision, or the very fact that I made a decision helped, but the blackness got easier, lighter to cope with. It was so late now, I planned the meal of the day and made a brew.

Looking out at the sky, brought and nourished my nephelococcygia and nephology to the fore. I could see so many things shaped in the clouds in each photograph too. I wonder, now I’ve cheered up a bit; can anyone can see the ghost, angel?

I looked into what would be a good nosh menu. I moved the mushrooms from the slow cooker to the saucepan and put some petit pois in, to cook for three minutes.

I managed to knock the jug and lid of the saucepan off of the counter onto the floor. It was easy to do for me, no bother Hehehe! The saucepan lid now has a dent in it. But I was not bothered in the slightest! I was coming out of a depression, by a planned route, and things were feeling so much easier now. A smug-mode was adopted!

Back to the junk room mark one, and rang Sister Jane back. Stuttering Stephanie intervened, and Reflux Roger too. Jane told me she had read Tim Price’s comment,  helping with the Zoom situation. I must have a look ASAP. But nae bother now, after a nattering session, I got on with getting some more computerisationing done. Still feeling even betterer!

I stopped for a while to study the letter from the Doctors in depth. I have been identified as someone who is at severe risk of severe illness if I catch Coronavirus. (Still no food parcels though) I am to stay at home for at least 12-weeks from today. No contact with anyone other than health workers who need to see me as a part of my healthcare.

They gave a number to ring, to get a Government support officer with my details. But my NHS number was repeatedly not recognised after several tries. (By gum, I’ve died, and no one told me!) Hahaha!

I rang Warden Deana to ask if she could assist, but it was too late, and she’d gone and couldn’t respond to the call. I left a message, which she will get in the morning, I imagine unless she is working here on Friday. So, I rang another number, Nottingham City Council, from the Doctors letter to ask for advice.

The music was excellent when I got on the Council number waiting list. Twenty minutes later, after a repeated recorded message from someone, I couldn’t understand what the recorded said at first. But after about the fifteenth time it was played as I waited, I worked out it was telling me I had to registered to vote. When the lady answered, and quizzed me on my details, she said she would forward it to the Government number.

Still, I was not getting depressed again, things looked good.

I added some stuff to the Morrison order for three or four weeks time. Then tried an Iceland order, but it was no go. No slots were available.

I could see through the windows of the balcony, I had a good few flies of some sort in there? I got the camera and ventured in to take some photos and investigate what they were. Curious!

Those in pairs, seemed to be mating or something, do flies or whatever they are do it tail to tail?
Some insects were all alone, poor things!
Those in pairs, seemed to be mating or something, do flies or whatever they are do it tail to tail?
Many were outside on the wall of the flats?
Some insects were all alone, poor things!

Off to the kitchen again. I made sure I had some and knew where it was stored, Maple Syrup to flavour the plain yoghourt with for later. I turned of the mushroom and peas heat.

Checked in the refrigerator to ensure the bacon was in there. Made jolly nice brew of tea, took some of the weak, insipid Peptac medicine, and then the evening tablets, and olive oiled the eardrums.

A quick check to make sure I can open the plain yoghourt lid. I’m not sure as it happens, but I think I should be able to master it. At least I hope I can. Hehe!

Well, it’s now four hours beyond my usual head-down time.

The sun is still out, and at last, I spotted a dog and owner outside, Haha! This mutt had the beating if its owner. As much as the bloke tried to rush the old dog along, it wasn’t having any of it. I fell in love with it!

Bless him or her!

I got the sweet potato fritters cooking in the oven.

Then did a search for the latest Coronavirus results in Nottingham, the Country and for the East Midlands. Nottingham City seems to be doing better than many other areas.

I’m shattered now, all done in. But feeling a lot better now.

I had a look at the advice from Tim Price on the terribly convoluted, to me, Zoom site. But it wasn’t there?

From nowhere. Duodenal Donald burst forth with the most agonising stabbing and sharp, aching, pains. Come think of it, it was most likely in conjunction with Anne Gyna. I mused over whether I should be eating the sweet potato fritters or not, in my condition?

But my gluttony, allotriophagy, coenaculous, and phagomania won the day. I got the meal served up on the big blue oblong plastic plate that Lyzzi in America sent to me when I moved into the flat. ♥ A right feast it turned out to be, as well. 9/10 for the taste! Distressingly, this is the last of the sweet potato fritters for three weeks, when the next delivery is available from Morrisons. I just hope they have some in stock at the time!

Oh, the yoghourt was very thin and tasteless, but with a drop of the Maple Syrup mixed in, it was passable.

However, there was a nagging sense that Duodenal Donald was going to go on one of his rampages. No reasons as such, just that he had been more active today than for many a month. The uncomfortable sensation of positive expectancy lingered!

Got the pots washed and had another review of the Sherringham Park Medical Practise instructions.

I phoned Sister Jane, to ask her to send me a copy of Tim Price’s comment on Zoom, but a connection was impossible, the line kept going dead after I’d dialled the number?

Maybe, with the millions of folks at home, there was more of a demand for the lines?

I fetched a bottle of the spring water with added orange cordial added. I took this snap of the evening sky. As Duodenal Donald kicked off again. Gruelling-Gromble-Garblisations!

By the time I’d mounted the £300, second-hand, c1968, sickeningly beige-coloured, none-working, frayed, rickety, ready-for-recycling, rinky-dinked, rattling, rusty, resurrected, reconditioned, recalcitrant, recidivating and rotting-away recliner, and settled with the woolly hat pulled down over my eyes. In search of sleep, I realised it was mission impossible! The thought-storming, fretting, Duodenal Donald, and whoever was making the top-knock noisy somewhere, were my nemesis. A sort of retributive justice, for whatever I’d done wrong, and was revenging things with again denying me sleep!

I got the specs on, dismounted the recliner, grabbed the stick and went to fetch a drink of spring water I’d flavoured from the kitchen. After a minute or two failed search for the bottle, it dawned on me that I had taken it through and put it handily on the Ottoman tray earlier! I was so iracundulous with myself! What an Eizel!

Back and settled in the recliner again, went to turn on the TV, but could I find the remote control thingamajig? No! I freed my overly burdened with flab body from the recliner in search of the control stick. After a ferret around I found it on the floor between the chairs. Grabbed Jenny’s ♥ donated picker-upperer stick and retrieved it. Duodenal Donald kicked off again as I settled down once more.

I started to watch a Kitchen Nightmare episode I’d not seen before, in between expelling oohs and argh’s in response to Donald’s refreshed activities. At the first set of adverts, I nodded off into a land of bliss!

I stayed like this (sleeping), for over five hours. It was good!

Inchcockski – Wed 22 Apr 2020: Mental and physical purgatory. Humph!

Wednesday 22nd April 2020

Latin: Die 22 Aprilis MMXX

01:20hrs: I woke with Duodenal stinging away, and I was fretting over the Diabetes course link not working later on. To my feet, and the regular wee-wee was taken, another WUPT (Weak-Unwilling-Painful-Trickling) variety.

I was reminded of my sitting on and breaking the new headphone last night, as I spotted them looking in a sad state hanging off of the £300, second-hand rickety-recliner. Well, they lasted about four months, I think.

I made a brew, took the medications and had a look for the latest (Yesterdays only found, too early for today).

Cleaned and disinfected the emergency wee-wee bucket, had a quick wash, and onto the computer to start the updating of the diary.

Which was cut short by the arrival of the Porcelain Throne being needed, and off to the wet room I limped. What a change this time. The pain was far less, but the evacuation was so sticky and messy, runny, and had an aroma more fouler than yesterdays!

Pressed on with the blog (for several hours), got it finished and sent off the links via email. Then on Pinterest, WordPress Reader and next, The TFZer Facebooking.

Had to make a couple of graphics for today’s post.

Back to the Porcelain Throne for a second visit. Exactly like the first one, but I think the pain was a bit less this time. Duodenal Donald was giving some stick still.

Handwashing was done, rung and hung.

Had a bit of off-time on U-Tube, then got the ablutions sorted out. At a cost!

Whatta-a-farce! It suited this Klutz, come farceur Inchcock down to the ground, ideally! But at least the ablutions went differently than usual. With new Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas. Oh, Yes!

  • On getting in the room, the third use of the Porcelain Throne was needed. Messy, smelly and not much evacuated.
  • Cut gum on the toothbrush. Dropped toothbrush and then razors several times.
  • Dropped the mouthwash bottle! (It burst open after landing on my foot!)
  • Bent down, holding onto the sink, to get the plastic bottle, and the squashing caused Little Inchies fungal lesion to start bleeding. So, more hassle to sort out!

Bigger farce than the ablutions, I tried to get on the Zoom site, for the Diabetes course. As they (Ingeus) said, at 09:30hrs.

So, I downloaded it, where to I have no idea, but the screen stayed the same, other than telling me ‘The meeting has not started” and the sad Ingeus people told my to log-on at 09:30hrs for the 10:00 session? The message kept repeating and putting cookies on the computer every 5 seconds? Pressed load and run again. Nothing changed. Totally lost now, I left it running.

Tried again, and thought I was getting somewhere. Zoom wanted to know the meeting I needed to get into. No idea what to put, so I typed in Ingeus prediabetes. But it would not allow any spaces in the block. So, I pressed to join.

This led me to a page wanting a password, email, date of birth etc. So I filled them in.

Well fancy that, I got thrown out for Invalid meeting ID. (3,001).

I think I recall mentioning three or four weeks ago when they first contacted me about this conference type meeting, that I thought, with Ingeus involved, it’s not going to go right. Huh! Spot on Inchock!

The phone chirped, and it was Caroline (I think), from the direct support team. At the time, I was in pain from Duodenal Donald and was up all uptight about the Porcelain Throne visits and my not getting through to Zoom for the meeting.

I went on the Zoom site again, and realised that my stupidity knew in limits! Either they had changed the day to the 23rd, or (more likely) I’d put it down for the wrong day on Google Calendar! I could and do cringe at myself!

I’m not sure how it got it, but I am now a member of Zoom?

Just think; I’ve got this to go through again now, in the morning! Hoggledruidisations!

I really am getting wee’d off with myself. What a Chaleria of a Nebech!

I hobbed and wobbled off to get Porcelain Throne visit number five, I think. Huh! Constipation Konrad has been instantly replaced with Trotsky Terence! 

Well, I discovered I’d got spots and blemishes all over the body!

Both wrists? This may be the new alert wristbands material used alergy?

I washed and medicated certain delicate areas after the visit to the Throne.

Incidentally, the reconstructed taped together little clock I broke, twice, is still working! A tiny speck of success in my accident-prone, ill-fated, pointless existence! Of course, any iota of victories I may have always fallen under the umbrella of the ‘It didn’t really matter anyway’ section. Tsk! But they do help keep me just this safeish-side of the ‘Losing all hope’ barrier.

Got the nosh sorted out, I’d have prefered getting the brain and mind sorted out, but why dream of the impossible? (Blimus, I’m going bonkers here – what a wassuck!

I was a little concerned in my choice of having the maple marinated lamb steaks, with Duodenal Donald playing up. But my spirits after making one of my more-stupid cock-ups over the timing of the Diabetes meeting, and getting myself all heck-up, I was in an even lower than earlier. So stayed with the lamb idea, which may prove to be a nasty mistake later. But was I bovvered? Nae!

I sorted the meal prepping. Got the lamb in the oven, they are thin slices so only need twenty minutes to cook. Checked the mushrooms were cooked and added them to the can of curried beans, with a splash of hickory. By then, the meal was ready to be served up. Smashing! Taste rating, 7/10.

Enjoyed the meal no-end. Up to now, no reactions from Duodenal Donald, he’s not any worse than he has been all day. 

I got the things washed up. I imagine my guilt at getting things all mixed up again earlier on, made me decide to get some cleaning done, for I knew how painful it would be. Maybe not precisely self-flagellation (perhaps purgation, though), but my indeterministic frame of mind thought it a good idea.

I got some black bags made up and limped to the waste chute. I trapped my hand in the chute and broke the elastic band on the alarm alert bracelet. But the alarm itself bounced away from the chute and landed on the floor. I cannot remember feeling more relieved for months. Phew! If it had gone down to the bins twelve floors below, it would probably have been the deciding factor in my wish to carry on. But, there it was, in the middle of so many things on my mind; my Zoom cock-up, Duodenal Donald now getting worse, the confused state of mind, came a little good luck!

I almost cheered up, turned to leave the waste cubby-hole, and gave myself a crackingly painful toe-stubbing on the door edge! As I limped, slightly more than usual back to the flat, the good luck that I was over the moon about minutes earlier, faded.

I planned to get the kitchen floor mopped up next, but I’d left the tap running while I was out, and no hot water was available. (Had this been a ploy from me, to avoid the cleaning? I don’t know!) I decided to boil the kettle and clean the floor edges of the cupboards by hand. Surprising myself at getting back up on my feet each time, with less bother than I usually have? Life is so confusing, especially to the already confused!

Duodenal Donald was getting worse, a lot worse. So I lamely gave up on the cleaning and took the evening medications, with gulps of the ineffective Peptic medicine. I dare not take any extra painkillers with the others, so gritted my teeth instead. (Hahaha!)

I settled to watch some TV. Surprisingly, with it being so early yet, I nodded off into the land of bliss! Which was broken, by the ‘Klunk-Bang-Tap-tap-Knocking’, coming from somewhere above the flat? I was niggled at this breaking my precious sleep at first. Then realised how early it was still, so irked, but not worried about the ‘Klunk-Bang-Tap-tap-Knocking’, not this early. It might have been Herbert doing his models, a repairman or anything, it didn’t matter. I was the oddity for trying to sleep so early, to catch-up on missed kip.

So, I got up, pants on, and tried to do some more cleaning up. The door buzzer rang out. It was the catwalk model, Obersturmführeress Warden Deana, just checking, that was nice. Pleasant to have a little Socially distanced chinwag.

I got back into the night attire (Well, stripped off). And into the £300, second-hand, not-working, rickety recliner. Pulled the bobble cap over the eyes, and went in search of some rest, sleep, sweet Morpheous…

The ‘Klunk-Bang-Tap-tap-Knocking’ started again and was persistent this time. All one could do was to try and put up with it. Eventually, it stopped, but by then, I was so agitated about not sleeping, it was hard to get any.

* “Life is so pleasant, calm, gentle and trouble-free.”

*  Many more lies are available on request.

TTFNski.

Inchycock Today – Monday 20th April 2020: Variability, unpredictability, changeability, and instability. With a dash of instability, today.

Monday 20th April 2020

Hungarian: 2020. április 20., hétfő

From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced!

04:30hrs: I woke for the umpteenth time, and all signs of mental aggravation had gone. I was no longer bedevilled! Not knowing why this suddenly occurred was a mystery, but of no interest to me, I was just so pleased that they had. In fact, it put little life into me as I cheered-up.

Getting out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, not-working-broken-down, most cringeworthily sickening beige-coloured, rickety recliner, has not been done with such ease for many a month. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away! Good fortune, for me, is transmundane.

As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet).

Off to the kitchen, a little slower than usual, cause I didn’t trust Dizzy Dennis an iota. He’s a most cunning ailment. He’s on a par with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters as top-dogs in the catching me out at the most optimum, dangerous timing, to cause me the greatest bother! The Swine!

I got the updating finished for the Sunday post and sent off. Nicodemus was particularly kind to me this morning. Then got the link Emailed. On to TFZer Facebooking, I always enjoy that. Spent an hour or three on it. Next, on the WordPress Reader section. Some great reads and photographs on there!

I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.

The landline burst into sound and flashed. I thought it might be the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she would be in tomorrow and give me the time scale. It was Sister Jane calling, bless her. 

During the socially-distanced chinwag, she told me to write clearly. I mentioned the problems that are stopping me doing so. She suggested I have plenty of time on my hands, and I should learn shorthand. Hehe!

She and Pete are waiting for their free food parcel to arrive. Jane is very disappointed with the last one. They gave her amongst the many freebies, instant coffee, they use filter coffee, mentioning with a smiling voice; ‘Of course, you don’t get a free parcel do you’ (Muffled laugh, suspiciously heard!).

She mentioned that she had been doing some cleaning. Pointing out she realises I don’t, and I should get more exercise done. After the conversation, I felt about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Hahaha!

The doorbell chimed, and I found a pot of butter on the carpet outside. Obviously the work of Angel Jenny again. Bless her cotton socks!

Some tip-tapping noises were keeping me company from somewhere, as I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and then made a start on this blog.

Within a few hours, I’d got as far as here, and the need for CorelDraw graphicalisationing grew more urgent, as I realised I was out of page-top, Thoughts and Day graphics all together! So, with the tap-tapping now accompanied by some clump-banging, I visited CorelDraw ad started what turned out be a marathon session. But only managed two of the six graphics I needed to do. Humph!

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and pictured a man and his dog.

The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!

I put a can of plonk in the hallway for the driver. He was very chuffed! Which pleased me, too.

I made a start on the problematic, complicated and time-consuming task of getting the stuff in the cupboards fridge and freezer.

The doorbells chimed out again. I was a little miffed at being disturbed in the middle of mess sorting out the groceries; but thought it might be the other pair of trousers they have not delivered yet, so my spirits raised just a tad.

It was Josie returning the tray and things from the nosh. She said she enjoyed it and was, at last, isolating herself. Both made me feel good for her.

Back in the kitchen, and crammed the stuff, after reorganising the things a little. Plenty of nosh in now. Bleach might be a problem, but not yet, I’ve now got a bottle and a half left, so things are not anywhere near desperate.

I got the oven warming up. Then pondered on what to have for the nosh, my choices were multitudinous. Hahaha!

I thought I’d have some of the oddly called ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ from Iceland, chips. This will mean more room in the freezer. Some cooked meat of some sort; or sausages will make a little room in the fridge for me.

It really is jam-packed in there now.

I nipped to have a wash, nothing serious, like an ablutions session, mind.

Crumps and botherations! I knocked the clock off of the toilet top, and guess where it fell?

I assume you’ve guessed right. Straight down into the water in the water in the WC. Grrr! So very-most annoying!

I got the chips in the oven and sorted out the nosh ingredients available to use. Then I made a start on one of the most flavourful noshes of the year so far! Inspired, I was. Mind you, I kept changing my mind of what meat to have, ending up with one of the turkey sausages.

A wholemeal cob, a bottle of spring water, a terribly crumbly tasteless apple (One bite was enough to convince me to bin it!), and a Skinny Bar nougat (Tasty) were the extras.

The main plateful was the best bit. ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ I seasoned with black pepper and vinegar, the Netherlands-grown Piccalo tomatoes were fantastic considering how out of season they were, sea-salted. I used some of the frozen petit pois for the first time and added some demerara sugar. I was not too impressed with the peas, but everything else on the plate went down fine and flavoursome. A rating of 9.26/10!

I was so impressed with my effort, I took shots of it from different angles on the tray. Did you notice the last picture had something added for an extra treat? Hahaha!

I ate it all up (Well, not the crap apple) masticating so slowly and savouring it. Apart from the fruit being thrown away, I ate and enjoyed the lot. It was about the time I made a decent meal!

Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning.

I was determined to get some sleep tonight. (Huh!)

Took the medications, and as I got settled into the £300, second-hand recliner, I soon realised I needed to use my hands to feel my way safely into the seat. (Luckily, Nicodemus’s Neortramsmitters’, and Shaking Shaun didn’t visit me st the time) Saccades Sandra was bad tonight, and I could not use the ploy of watching TV to help me get to sleep. Getting the focus right, too bothersome and headache encouraging. Then Toothache Tim kicked off. This was not going to be a peaceful night, methought. Sadly, I was right! I eventually got myself into a semi-comfortable position. Pulled the woolly hat over my eyes, and prayed that the Thought-Storms would not start.

The landline phone rang and flashed. I fumbled to get my spec’s on and get to the phone in time. It was my new Phlebotomy nurse. She will be calling in the morning between 0800hrs and 12:00hrs, to take the Warfarin Blood for testing. I thanked her, and returned to the chair, noticing that Saccades had eased off, and I could focus easier again. Which was good!

For some unknown, but pleasant reason, the Thought-Storms did not arrive. Which, on the face of it, was magnificently encouraging thing.

But the IBON (Inchcocks-Bundle-of-Nerves), anxiety and agitation attacks started the moment I got back down in the recliner! I really cannot recall how many times I struggled up, to go and check on something, taps (faucets) lights, oven, wet room sink, etc. over the next few hours. By the time I dropped of, the physical efforts and mental fatigue helped me nod-off.

At least I got a few hours in. Hey-Ho!

Inchcockski (In brief) – Sunday 19th April 2020: A Phlubergangski day

Sunday 19th April 2020

Turkish: 19 Nisan 2020 Pazar

03:50hrs: Woke for the third time, this one involved bubbling, rumbling and grumbling from the innards, which forced me to do what I had been resisting for a while getting up! But I knew the Throne session was likely to be another painful and challenging affair – Gawd blimey was I right!

Got a bit of a wobble on en route to the Porcelain Throne, but nothing overly worrying. A marathon (Ten minutes) slow hurtful grind, to complete the evacuation was as bad as one ever has been. Bloody too, but at least not messy. The wee-weeing was but a trickle. Little Inchies fungal lesion was stinging, but not bleeding. I was baffled by the difficulty I’d had passing. When I left the wet room, it was with a different-styled, more full gate and limp. Hehe!

To the kitchen and made up a cup of Macrodol and sipped it down, leaving a sachet of the, biologically inert, non-absorbable osmotic laxative on the counter, to remind me to take another later. Took the normal medication, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, which I took with me to the computer, made a start on the template creating on WordPress and CorelDraw, and let the tea go cold. I carried on with creating today’s and the Monday template, then went to get another brew.

I had another go at getting an Iceland order in. But failure again, no slots available. Ah, well, Nemo Mortalium Omnis Horis Sapit!

Got on with updating the Saturday blog. A long job, compliments of nerve ens of Nicodemus.

I went to make another brew, and it became pellucid, well not clearly, but possibly that I needed another visit to the ~Porcelain Throne… I thought at the time, with the extra churning and bubbling from the innards that were kicking-off.

But, I was bamboozled and fooled again. After much waiting and a complete crossword finished, I assumed things were not going to move. So, I had a wash and to the kitchen to make the brew and of Glengettie. And had another mug of Macrogol. I’ll have to be wary; in case things do start to flow suddenly! But my confidence is low, as is my blood level with all the flipping bleeding!

Finished the blog. Started this one.

Henceforth, I got blank-spells that kept coming an going. Doing the updating in the morning, I found scribbled notes I’d made, so details might be sketchy, and some happenings I can recall with clarity? Poor old sausage!

No dogs and walkers out.

CorelDrawing.

Ablutions: painful, dropsies galore.

Legs misshaped and almost orange coloured?

Josie’s nosh made and delivered. A patched-up meal, kippers cause I’m out of the smoked haddock, A tipple. Josie looking well today.

Jenny bleach. Forgot bleach on the Iceland order, they only sell the one type at the moment, expensive Domestos, but I added one to the order. I thought I’d call Jenny to see if there was any item that she needed adding. But a message came up telling me I had so many minutes to complete the change to the order, so I chickened out and completed added the bleach sharpishly.

Black bags made and sorted (eight) and to the waste chute,

The bleach that Jenny got for me was perfect, Sainsbury’s own label lemon-scented. I have been using two a week. Thanks, Jenny ♥. But not Iceland.

Got the pots washed and started to make my nosh. Took some photos.

I seemed to be coming out of a dream. According to my notes on the pad, when I found the pots had all been cleaned and stuff was taken out ready to do my meal: “Felt not ill, blanks, bleeding, leave out lesion”? Hehe!

While sorting the cooking, I spotted some dogs taking their owners for a walk, below in the bottom field, and took a snap of them. I clearly recall the little black poodle, I think it was, was hyperactive, and the bigger dog, the poor mite, had Arthritis and needed a little prompting from its loving owner.

Had to nip for a Throne visit, but again, it turned out a false alarm.

But, there was bubbling and brewing going on in the innards!

Washed, back to the kitchen, the sky had changed, bootiful!

A canned mixed grill, extra hickory and gravy and black beans added, along with two of the Icelands tasty beef burgers. The bread was a tad dry around the edges, but still.

The burgers were fine, but I got the seasoning wrong. Taste Rating: 6.5/10

Did the washing up again, got head down.

TV on, but blissfully, I fell asleep pretty soon. And it was grand.

A couple of hours later, I woke with a start, most likely from the headphones I’d left on when some music came on the TV. Which was really lucky! The intercom was chiming away. Fumbled out and to the machine, it was the Morrison order I’m made seven weeks ago and thought would be cancelled!

Pressed the man in, and got some trews on, by which time he was at the door. He left the bags in the hall, said something I didn’t catch, and off he trotted.

I got the bags into the kitchen. What a great surprise.

Shame I’d just made an order in with Iceland for tomorrow, now I’m really going to struggle to make room in the fridge and freezer! Oh, dearie me!

A few unavailables, and substitutions, as was to be expected. Shame I ordered the mil from Iceland now, they had substituted a 1-litre with 2-litre whole milk. The only thing that I was bothered about was having no Lemon Meringue mousse, I’m getting withdrawal symptoms. Hehe!

I struggled to keep concentration as I faffed about making room in the refrigerator and freezer for the food.

I’m afraid the two hours kip I enjoyed, was to be all of the sleep for the night. I did have a few nod-offs, but each lasted only a few minutes, I’d wake, and the Thought Storms would howl away at me.

Humph!

 

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