Tag: diabetic polyneuropathy

Inchcockski – Saturday 18th April 2020: I am slowly being driven higher up the wall. Haha!

April 18

Saturday 18th April 2020

Filipino: Sabado 18 Abril Abril 2020

03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? It took me a while to recall where the tune was from.

It was the introduction to Bruce Forsyth’s Generation Game. What brought this to mind, I don’t know. But I do remember watching it all those years ago and being amazed at how much work Bruce put into it to make it work. My favourite Game Show of them all on TV.

On the radio, it was Just a Minute, with host Nicholas Parsons, Clement Freud, Kenneth Williams, Derek Nimmo, and Peter Jones, they were my preferred panellists. Two shows I hated to miss, and the reason for my buying my first tape recorder and DVD. Ah, they were the days!

I seem to remember getting home and putting the motorbike away in a rush, to get in and my new colour TV (Wigfalls 3/6d [17½p] a week rental) on to watch it. Happy Days! The Larry Grayson and Jim Davidson efforts at hosting the later shows, were as expected, abysmal. I just thought I’d mention it, like.

As I lay there, hearkening back to my more confident, happy and in good health days, the stomach-churning burst into life. Thus the one thing that mattered (I thought at the time), was to escape the £300, second-hand, none-working, c1968, rickety recliner, catch my balance and stick, to get to the wet room lickety-split! Which, I surprised myself in doing quickly and accident-free, Slight swagger mode adopted (Temporarily).

I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation.  But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe!

Then, as I made my way to the kitchen, Toothache Terence kicked off. Soon to be joined by Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun. And extra Cocodamol was taken with the Codeine and other medications. For about five minutes, the mind-haze and memory loss had me worried. I was so close to pressing the alarm wristlet, thinking what can tell them, how do I explain what I’m going through without sounding potty? I was so pleased when things seemed suddenly to go back to my usual, merely semi-confused state. Yet, puzzled to how quickly and abruptly, things changed again.

Of course, this triggered the fretting all over again, it always does when I have a memory blank, even a short couple of minutes one like this; I just had to check things, taps, lights, stove, door. When I got to the hallway, I found two letters on the floor.

One double-sided A4 from Citycare. I p[ointed out their plans an dedication to making sure we are all safe and instructed us what to do if we have any of the symptoms of the COVID-19 (Coronavirus). We have to call 0300 131 0300 – Option 1, then Option 5, between 0830am to 1700hrs pm, Monday to Friday. Being as it is Saturday morning now, I hope I do not get any symptoms for two days.

They also kindly gave us a 107 digit email address to use. That’s a guess at the number, cause Saccades-Sandra is playing up and I can’t focus properly to read it. Luckily, Saccades and other ailments I have are not sufficient to get me a weekly food parcel. So, I shall be of no bother to them. And am so glad that Nottinghamshire County Council, have supplied Sister Jane and hubby Pete with a delivered box of food weekly. Jane told me this while she was out shopping for eggs, bacon and some wine. They didn’t take the car or electric bike with them, that remained in the new garage at the mansion on the tree-lined avenue, with the eleven CCTV cameras, burglar alarms, pressure alarm pads and wine cellar. But, I’m contented in my three-roomed flat and being isolated and unable to get food.

Shame I don’t qualify for a weekly food parcel, but there you are. I’ll just stay here, with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters dying and Peripheral Neuropathy making me have accidents and dropping things, scolding myself etc., Mechanical Aorta valve replacement, Hernia Harold, Burgabasia-Bernie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Stuttering Stephany, Anne Gyna, Rheumatoid Arthur Itis, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding away accompanied my Haemarrahoid Harold, Fluid Retention Robert, Furesomide induced wee-wees, Craig Cramps, Dizzy Dennis, Back-Pain-Brenda, falling over when I get an involuntary Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from Neuropathic Nigel’s right leg, Conrad Constipation, Reflux Valve Roger sticking, Prediabetes Petunia demands, injecting Enoxaparin in my tummy,  battling and getting injured by the Sock-glide, coping with the memory blanks, and picking at the bloodied scars from Clopidogrel Clive’s growths on my legs.

As I said, at least I don’t qualify for a food parcel, like others who have cars, wealth, health and the nerve to accept their food parcels. At least I have Jenny ♥ keeping her eye on me, and others, and a caretaker who brought me a bottle of bleach when he heard I couldn’t get enough.

But, it doesn’t bother me at all! Tsk! Hehehe!

I made a start on checking Emails and went to check up on the latest Coronavirus statistic.

Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong, the most inopportune time!

The right hand did one of its as yet rare, shooting off in varying directions, just as I was typing. The bout merely lasted a few seconds.

But it was long enough for me to get this these two windows to appear on the computer screen!

I don’t know what the fingers or hand hit to get these up, but it frit me I can tell yers!

Being a computer workings idiot is not easy. Becoming one was!

I thought I’d buggered it up now! Understanding things, working out what it was on the screen was beyond me.

Fear of losing the computer and depression took over the mind for a minute or two.

I closed the windows and sighed muchly with relief when things seemed to be working okay.

Maybe, if things ever get back to normal, I might be able to find a college or something that runs courses on understanding the workings of a computer. What am I thinking? with my memory? And the courses will be night ones! And Nicodemus’s nerve-ends are dying anyway, so are not going to get any better, only worse, which means I’ll have to eventually give up computing all together, that hurts!

I continued to search for the virus figures. I don’t think they are anything to get too hopeful about yet.

I went to make a mug of Glengettie and came out of the doldrums a little. Especially as I made the brew, without any spills, shakes or nerve-end interference. That was a nice change.

Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.

I was determined to pull myself from the darkness.

The cold sunshine went in, and a tiny few spots of a shower fell. It lasted only for a minute or so. I carefully made another brew, Thompsons Punjana this time. Then took a couple of pictures of Chestnut Walk. There was still an earthy petrichor smell already, which was lovely.

A couple of free parking spaces, and no illegal parking at this end of the walk, ah, Saturday innit! Oh, I just noticed there was a bit of naughty parking on the double yellow lines. I think they have wisely decided to ignore this activity, with us having so few spaces available.

At long last, I got the updating started for the Friday blog. Soon got it finished, thanks to Nicodemus being kind, and despite Shaking Shaun doing his best to knobble my typing. Haha!

The rear-end wind continues to plump and plop, but not foul-smelling. Ah, I must take a mug of Macrogol first. If Colin Cramps lets me, he’s having another bash at the poor old fingers now. Dangwangles!

Checked the comments. Then some bits on Pinterest. Next, the WordPress Reader. Then onto TFZer Facebooking. Then I tried to get an Iceland order in, but no luck, slots unavailable. Even if they were, I can still only be allowed one bottle of bleach. Nowhere near enough for a week for me. Thankfully, Robert, our caretaker brought me a bottle that’s getting me through for a few days.

Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow.

Mental fatigue made me leave the CorelDrawing.

I got the handwashing sorts out. Dressing gown, jammie bottoms and socks. All done, wrung and hung. I put the gown to hang in the wet room. 

Got the ablutions done. No sock-glide confrontation, I left the bamboo socks off. The dropsies were a little higher than of late, that would be due to Nicodemus’s nerve-ends not sending any contact messages to the brain. At times this can get confusing and so frustrating. Especially when folks say, ‘Just be careful!’ Looking at me as if I’m an idiot.

Which is true! Haha! Because the neurotransmitters fail to tell the brain, as they come on and off-line variably and at their will.

The shaving produced a few tiny nicks, nowt serious. Little Inchies lesion had bled only a few spits, again, no hassle; even the applying of the Cortiscord cream was not too painful. Which was a nice change for me!

I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.

Ate it all, and I’d had my fill. Oh, the apple was awful, soft, dry! Never mind. A Flavour Score of 6/10.

I went to do the washing up and espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field.

I wish I could have a cat here in the flat, but I can understand the impracticality of it fully. I can take tumbles easily enough now, with the dizzies and neuropathic dancing legs, Arthur Itis… and a multitude of others with a ‘Let’s-Have-Inchcock-all-over-fancying’ nature. Imagine me having a pet to fall over as well! Hehehe! But it’s still sad making.

I got down in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged, while he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and pilfering my money, recliner.

I watched a film all the way to the end; but with perhaps about fifteen few-minute nod-offs in between. Waste of time, I couldn’t follow the plot.

I lay afterwards, trying to ignore the rampant Thought-Storms, mostly of guilt, self-hatred, and isolation problems.

I must have nodded off eventually, cause I woke up in the morning! Hangalisationing Horror-time!

 

Inchcockski – Wed 26 Feb 2020: Test results reveal a new ailment, Christened Prediabetes Petunia. They keep coming, Tsk!

Wednesday 26th February 2020

Zulu: ULwesithathu 26 kuFebhuwari 2020

00:30hrs: I stirred and passed wind, the gurgling, bubbling and churning from the innards, convinced me to rise and get to the Porcelain Throne with some haste.

As I freed my massively flobby-framed body from the £300, second -hand, c1968, sickeningly-beige coloured recliner and rose onto my feet, it dawned on me: “Aha! The Arthur Itis sharp digging pains from yesterday were no longer there! This is the second time this has happened. Why I have not the foggiest. Same as the first time, I was virtually crippled for a few hours, then it slowly eased off, and things have returned back to normal, still hurting of course, but not debilitating any longer. Oche, I’m baffled!

The visit to the wet room proved a total failure, despite the gurgling from within, and escapages of wind, there was no movement whatsoever. Still, I got a couple of answers on the crossword done. Haha!

And got a shot of the pins. A few new Clopidogrel lesions, the knee-lumps and veins were showing far less, and a lot more colour tone to the skin. I reckon the Bamboo socks are helping things improve. And, I had remembered as ordered, to take the socks off at night for sleeping duties. 

Some new lesions that had been bleeding were feeling a little bit tender to the touch. I’ll mention it to Dr Vindla when I get to the surgery.

Ah, well, I anticipate, and my EQ advises me that the test results will be likely to show a new Inchcock ailment.

Off to the kitchen, got the kettle on and sorted out the hanging to dry washing. I did note that the shirts seemed to have regained some of their original colour, (All bar the expensive brown thin one, that changed to green!) which initially baffled me a bit. Then I recalled that I’d used the Woolite liquid I bought so cheaply from the Bargain Shop.

A glance at the bottle labels, and I noted it claimed to Revive Colours of darks. Blimey, a product claim that is true and works! Well, I never! I bet when I can get back to the store to get some more, it’ll have sold out! It’s bound to, my luck ain’t that good! Hahaha!

As I took the tea back to the computer, I saw that I had gained some more bruises on the arm this time. What causes this, which of the ailments are to blame is another mystery of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. That lies somewhere between the twilight zone and a wormhole slipping through a tear in the fabric of space & the spacetime continuum. With Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, illusions, delusions, and hallucinations, rife. Amongst my vague, palaverous, chimerical, inconsequential, torturous fight for existence! Back to the bruising. I looked up what might cause them: Medications that cause easy bruising, include Warfarin, Thrombosis, and Clopidogrel; Huh! I’ve got ’em all! So it should be expected to bruise easily. Which I do. There you are, at last, I’ve found something I’m good at! Gasconade Moment Enjoyed!

I had to try and sort out the broken mixed up medications in the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA supplied blister pack. But I’m not sure that I got it right with the beta-blockers (Bisoprolol Fumarate), with the tablets all mixed up in the damaged Pill-pack?

Made a brew, and took some leaflets back to the computer with me. In a vain hope to get some clues as to which tablet is which.

The wee-wees today were all of the annoying, flipping INHBBT (I-Needn’t-Have-Bothered-Barely-Trickling) mode, and pretty frequent.

The non-activity from the rear-end, might be partly through my having tried the Halloumi Fries, from Iceland last night? They were not cheap at £3 for 190g, but something told me they might taste good, and they did! According to the label, the only content was Halloumi Cheese? I looked it up and found it contains cow’s, goat and sheep’s milk. Originated in Cyprus. I enjoyed the taste, but not enough to pay through the nose for it. So, I shan’t try them again… Unless maybe I find some cheaper to try somewhere other than Iceland.

I got the computer going at last, and did some graphics on CorelDraw for page toppers, then made a start on this blog. Forgetting all about not having updated yesterdays yet. There are times when I worry about myself. Humph!

As I went to get some mushrooms and leeks into the crock-pot ready to put on when I go out later, Toothache Tim and Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley both kicked off! I put some light soy sauce and red sea salt in with the food – now all I have to dop is remember to put in on a low-setting, and turn on the pot as I leave the flat. Are you offering any odds on my not forgetting?

I began to update the Inchcock Today for Tuesday. I gorrit done in a rush and tended to the ablutions. Can’t be late for the Doctors, Nurses, Dentists and Key Fob updating Wallahs, can I?

I got readied, and double, treble checked the state of the flat, and that I had everything needed, and departed.

I’ll be back much later on… TTFN. I’m back, and it’s tomorrow morning, as I try to catch up with the updating of this blog. (Who said retirement is boring? – Hahaha!)

I set out, intending to drop off the waste bags down the waste chute, but could not get through the workings tools spread in the lobby, to get there. Then I realised I had not got my hearing aids in. Back to the flat to collect them, and when got back to the lobby, the chaps were again working. They kindly took the bags off of me and dealt with them. That was kind of the lads.

Down in the lift and walked along Chestnut Way, no raining, and it didn’t feel too cold, by the time I got to the end of the road and turned down Winchester Street, the pavement was again blocked by vehicles. So, more of the risky, life-threatening as I had to go on the road to get by. Harumph!

Once I got half-way down the main road, I stopped to put my woolly gloves on. My fingers and hands were white, and oh, so cold? Yet the rest of my flobby-bellied, overweight, tubby body, didn’t feel cold at all?

My hobble along Mansfield Road to the surgery was relatively pain-free. No Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun, Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, Hernia Henry, Reflux Roger or Toothache Tim bothered me at all. Confusing, but then again, how often does this happen to others as they eventually get an appointment to see their Doctor? Hehe!

I walked along the abandoned, gone-boke shops along Mansfield Road
I avoided the leaking underground sewer pool, near the giant ash-tray, Mansfield Road.
The traffic was struggling.

I got inside and went to reported to the Oberstgruppenführeress receptionist. They are all nice gals really. One of them signalled me to sit down before I could log in, another nice gesture! I got seated, but Arthur Itis was not keen on the idea. I felt a right fool taking so long to just sit down, the looks from the other waiting patients, were varied. I got out the crossword book and was soon deep in concentration, mainly cause I got a couple of answers.

Doctor Vindla came out to collect me, but I didn’t hear her at first, and she made me jump when she tapped me on the shoulder. More odd looks were spotted on the faces of the other patients, as I struggled up on my feet.

I knew from the look on her face, that the test results were not going to be good. I took the opportunity to mention the lesions on the leg. She assured me, despite my telling her I haven’t had a fall in days, and am sure I have not been scratching at the legs (I can’t even reach them to do that! – ah, maybe in my sleep?), that I had been scratching at the legs? She then informed me of the Diabetic ailment I’d acquired. Well, no, not that, but Prediabetic. I was to go and see the nurse, who will go through what needs to be done and take some more blood for further tests. I thanked her and she walked me out to the Nurses treatment room to await being summoned.

I made the mistake of thinking it might take a while and sat down to do the crossword puzzle. But it was only a couple of minutes and the most gorgeous site appeared! ‘Nurse Nichole!’ Wonderful, gladdening and uplifting! I’ve not seen her for months!

In her room, and she was going to take the INR Warfarin blood; until I explained that the beautiful Nurse Christina had taken it yesterday. She then got my permission (and thanks for) to forward my details to the Nottingham City Diabetes Services, who’s service includes: Telephone education, advice and support to both patients and healthcare professionals; emotional and psychological support; structured education programmes (both group and one to one sessions); continuous blood glucose monitoring; foot assessment; care-planning and insulin initiation and management. (I looked that up later) They will contact me to arrange an appointment, and put me on a weekly ‘training’ course, locally, for 19 weeks.

We had a little natter and laugh about other things. And off I poddled, dropping some nibble off at the reception, and out into the cold sunlight.

I limped slowly, deep in thought, then along to the Lidl Store. Not many customers about this morning. I got inside and had a meander around, looking for bargains or some tasty-looking treats. I resisted the temptation of looking at the cream cakes, for those are a definite no-no from now on, I think.

I got to the self-serve checkouts and bought: Puff pastries, caramelised onion chutney, Skipjack tuna in brine, anchovies, parsnips, cooked meats, tomatoes and Amaretti biscuits. The latter being a nibble-pressie for the Sturmscharführeress ILC wardens back at Winwood Heights.

I was not worried about the new ailment and thought of a new name for it. I came up with Diabetic Doreen or hopefully, Prediabetes Petunia! Hehehe! An interesting look-up on Prediabetes: This site gives menus for what you should be eating. A possibility of adiaphorous happenings if I eat any of these! I can see I’ll be popular in the training course. Tsk!

What you should be eating

However, it has kale, cauliflower, avocado, broccoli, spinach, brussels sprouts, eggplant, zucchini, or bell peppers on every recipe. All of which I have been told not to eat, due to my varied range of other ailments! Oh, dearie me! Now I’ve depressed myself!

I caught a bus back to Sherwood, and took some shots of the Charity shops on Mansfield Road, there was plenty to choose from.

Oxfam and Mind

Crossed over the road and made my way up to the L9 bus stop. Where I was greatly cheered to see Margaret and Doris amongst others, sat there at the shelter. I mentioned the diagnosis. Someone said: “Your not the luckiest of buggers are you?” Nayer a truer word spoken mate! Margaret, with her deadpan delivery,  soon had me laughing as we nattered on. Bless her!

We arrived back at the flats, and I remembered about the key-fob having to be re-set, in the large social room. I thought I’d enter via Winwood Court lobby and drop off the Amaretto nibbles, then walk through to get the fob sorted.  As I passed the front of the building, Generalfeldmarschalless Warden and desk-top dancer Julie opened the fire door to remind me to get the key-fob done.

I got in and dropped the biscuits off in the Wardens Interrogation and body-search office, and into the big social room.

The fob was soon done, then I made my way back to the flat through the link-passageway. During which, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley enjoyed herself with a rather intense bit of quagswagging.Not for long, though. I got to the Woodthorpe Court lift lobby, and into the cage, and up to the flat, without seeing anyone whatsoever.

The first job, I got some parsnips chopped and in the pan simmering with some sea-salt.

A brief visit from both Shirley and Dennis had me shaking and wobbling a bit, but once again, it was only for a matter of a minute or so.

Put away the purchasers, and I got the handwashing done, wrung and hung.

Then got the nosh served up, washed the pots first, before settling down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, Charity shop-bought, rickety recliner to die! That was a bad misspelling! I meant, to dine! Hahaha!

Note the lack of chips, fries or potatoes on the plate? I’ve got loads of them still in the freezer, though. I hate the thought of giving them away, just in case I weaken at a later date! (Coy cynical laugh) Maybe, perhaps, possibly, if I just have chips or potatoes twice a week? Oh. dear! I’m dithering even more than usual over this! A taste rating of 6.5/10 given for this meal.

I got the TV on, but I nodded off before the programme I wanted to watch came on.

An hour or so later I sprang awake. The dentist, I forgot the Dentist again! Self-loathing, total disgust and despair grew!

I lay there, spitting insults with hatred and venom at myself, for I don’t know how long. Farmisht and ferdrayt at my own stupidity! I genuinely feared for my future saneness, rationality, stability and capableness. The lousy mind-boggling Thought-Storming started. No rest, peace of mind, and no sleep for yonks, either!

I think I could use some anxiolytics!

Inchcock Today – Fri 17 Jan 2020: Got out for a hobble at last. Shame I got soaked and had a few Dizzy Dennis visits. Ah, well!

Friday 17th January 2020

Scots Gaelic: Dihaoine 17mh Faoilleach 2020

00:05hrs: I stirred into mock-life, looked around and saw much evidence of nocturnal-nibbling having been committed, and pondered on my hopes and dreams, fears and worries. Then thought Sod-it. Guilty-Mode Engaged!

– Then, I realised I was half-on the recliner, with the better leg hanging partly-off, and I was sitting on my left hand? After freeing the arm and hand, I found this had given me apaesthesia in the thumb and fingers. So, as I used my appendages to help raise myself out of the £300 second-hand seat, I found that I dropped back into it with a thud – and clouted my right elbow against the arm of the recliner! (Fancy that, I said?)

Personal Thoughts at the time: (were, something along the lines of), “Oh hell, is it going to be yet another day of frustrations with —-/-all going right?” I didn’t want to get up; and had to have a discussion with myself about the situation (Haha!). My EQ butted into the conversation, reminding me that there is nothing I can do to avoid further harassments and mental-turmoil, so I might as well get up and face it, I should be used to it all by now!”

So, I rose, more carefully this time from the chair gained my balance, grabbed the stick, and wandered wobblingly to the kitchen. Wondering what I was doing, who I was, where I was, and in a semi-confused state of mind. (T’was not that bad really, but my imagination took over there, sorry)

It was eight hours too early for me to use the hoover to clean up, I thought, not that I was bothered about it. I got the kettle on, made whar will probably be the highlight of the day, a mug of Glengettie Gold tea! With the chemist leaving without tablets and medications for five days, I nearly forgot to take them. Phwert!

No sooner had I poured out the brew, the demand for the Porcelain Throne arrived, so, off to the wet room I limped, with the stick and picking up the camera on the way, to have a view of the state of the legs this morning. They had regained some colour which was a good thing, but they were yellow!

The evacuation went okay. Sticky-messy, but little pain and no bleeding. So, fate had slipped me a teaser in there? Something to get me feeling optimistic, before the storm, perhaps? Or am I being too pessimistic? Mmm! Ah, well, I did the cleaning up, returned to fetch the now almost cold mug of tea, and got the computer on to update the Thursday blog. Which was far too long and took me five hours to complete. But, it was yet another of those Thursdays. A stomach-in-knots, tenterhook-lingering, in-a-tizzy, frustrating, delirium producing days, that went on and on with its let-downs and failures, until I lost the will to carry on! Hence my attitude when I woke up this morning, I suppose.

It’s the onslaught of the ailments, ticker-change to mechanical, ulcers, arthritis, getting shot, the stroke, old age. Senility and suffering days like the last few etc. that has turned me into the poltroon, nervous confident-less-wreck, misanthrope, worrier and prophet of doom I am today. Hey-Ho! Just thought I’d mention it. I left out losing my memory and mind. Back to the diary, I wandered off there again. Fool!

Despite the best efforts of Mr (overpaid for the skills he hasn’t got) Fries best efforts…

I got the updating finished and posted off to WordPress.Went on TFZer Facebooking. Viewed the WP Reader, and had a wee-wee of record length. No, it was! It began unwillingly and hurtfully dribbled for a couple of seconds, then gained momentum and flowed forcefully for… I don’t know how long, but it felt like five-minutes or more! Ah,-well, it made for a change!

I made brew watched U-Tube while I drank it, with a few orange chocolate digestive bikkies.

The ablutions next. And a jolly decent effort it was too! The dropsies were only about six in total. (The neurotransmitter transmissions to the brain of my synapse nerve contacting, were really the best they have been for days – of course, it didn’t last long, but was much appreciated while it lasted! [Yee-Haa!]) The sock-glide battle was injury-free! The medicating was painless, and the bleeding was to a minimum. It seemed to be going well, all foreign to me, I was a bit worried!

I got the black bags, recycling materials and glass jars sorted for taking down with me. I checked and rechecked, then checked again, to make sure I had left everything safe, and had taken all the things needed for my bus ride to the shopping (And boy, did I do some!) trip to Arnold. I hate this dithering and procrastinating undecidedness, but that’s how it is nowadays! 

I opted to get the handwashing done, to avoid the need when I got back from the shopping. My EQ told me (and it was right) that I would be too done-in and shattered to do it then! So, it was done, wrung and hung to dry. A bit like I felt, Hehehe!

Jacket on, keys, bus-pass, cash card, money, crossword book, pen, etc. checked, bags balanced on the trolley-walker and I set off. Putting the bags down the waste-chute, a feeling, a nagging doubt that I had disremembered something, but could not bring it to mind. Very agrannoying!

Down in the lift, plenty of the sprinkler fitters about, I hope the elevators don’t go down again. Out to take the glass jars, to put them with the hundreds of empty alcoholic bottles in the green bin (Touch of jealousy here, Hehe!), and the recycling bag in the big container. The rain started to fall as I went back into the foyer.

Innit marvellous? I’ve been forced to stay indoors for six days, waiting, stewing, impatiently, forever feeling iller as time went by. For the Top Three Pharmacies in Nottingham, The Carrington Pharmacy,  343-345 Mansfield Rd, Nottingham NG5 2DA, 5 days for their overdue delivery of my prescriptions, without my beta-blockers and painkilling Codeine 30g medications, and the first time I can get out – it rains for the first time in six days!

Lucky bugger, I am!

I made my way through the link-passageway into the warmth of Windwood Court, very welcoming having a heated communal place, lovely! Called at the Obergruppenführeresses Wardens interrogation and strip-search room. Haha! We had a natter, and the nibbles and treats were handed out.

As I was leaving, the ‘Something missing or not done’ problem was solved! I realised I had not got my mobile phone or camera with me. Crabs and Grobblecraps! So, back through to Woodthorpe Court. Up the elevator and in the flat, to collect the items forgotten by the senile elderly resident.

Back down the same route in reverse, with a few words of self-condemnation, and thought Winwood into Winchester Court. I noticed through the window that the rain was now a lot worse.

(Well, it would be, of course, I was about to leave to catch the bus! Humph!)

A group of reprobates, no, I mean residents had gathered in the Winchester foyer, keeping dry while waiting for the bus to arrive. I had a great laugh and natter and immediately found myself cheered up. I handed out some nibbles, as the bus arrived. A sort of, a slow-motion stampede of residents, walker-guides and sticks cluttered our way out to the bus shelter. Getting well soaked through before we reached the cover under the plastic shelter, then jostled for a dry spot to stand, Hahaha! The City bus came first, and I got on the Bestwood bound one, with about six fellow-Winwoodonians.

They all got off in Sherwood, and I was the last one left on the bus. Which soon picked up more passengers en route. I got involved in the crosswording en route, with a small degree of success as well. Smug-Mode-Engaged! Along with several others, I got off on High Street and endured the shoulder charging battle to get to the pelican crossing lights first, to get out of the rain quickerer. I got there last, of course.

I hobbled along Front Street in the rain, slowly getting the clothes soaked a little more, and somehow the precipitation had found its way into my left shoe as limped along? Surely this shoe can’t be leaking? It’s only about the third time I’ve worn them from new. Knowing my luck, I wondered why I thought that!

I had the shopping all planned. Savers, check on cleaning things prices, then Boyes next door for over the counter medications if a good price, Germolene etc.. Iceland for the tinned potatoes. Boots for the Co-Codamol, Fulton Foods for a bargain hunt, then Asda for some Lemon Curd yoghourts. That’s the plan anyway!

Saver Store: I got to the Savers store. They had Germolen at £1, A Floella orange and lime disinfectant 99p, Deo fab at 99p and a lemon Loo-Phoo at 89p. At the checkout, I had a Dizzy Dennis and Shaking Shaun attack. The lady serving me was patient bless her.

Boyes: A roll of small waste bags £1, Neutrodol spray at £1, Lavender Dettol £2, Foot spray £1, Yardley lemon-scented soap bar £1.25 and a Zoflora lemon disinfectant. I even had a funny turn at there checkout? But far less embarrassing.

I came out and the rain had, lessened to a drizzle. I got in a doorway and spread the load out to even the balance, using a carrier bag, the basket on the trolley, and the bag.

On the way to Iceland, Saccades Sandra forced me to stop for a while until she cleared, so I could see correctly. A bit unnerving. Into the shop, got two tins of the new potatoes, a bag of wholemeal sliced cobs, pork & pickle mini pies and a pack of cooked meat off-cuts.

Now I was struggling to get everything in the available bags etc., so thought I hope that Fulton’s do not have any bargains really, cause I’ll not be able to resist them and be in a right state carrying them, but knowing me. Haha!

Into Boots to the counter and asked for some Co-Codamol. I explained why I needed them, as a safeguard in case the chemist lets me down again. After a five-minute lecture on not taking them for any more than three days and various advice, she let me have a box. £3.79.

Fulton Foods: Oh dear, they had some pull-top opening garden peas. I just had to get some. Tsk! I got some Galaxy darker-milk chocolate, and a 1litre bottle of white vinegar for cleaning.

There were no funnies at the checkout.

I had to do a bit of quick thinking then. The L9 bus was due in twenty-minutes. Asda, across the road, me wanting some Lemon Curd yoghourt, but would I get them in time to catch the bus? I hastened to the store, as the rain got a little more substantial.

Asda: Got inside and straight to the dairy shelves, but could not see any lemon yoghourt whatsoever? No staff around to ask. I decided to leave it. But spotted they had some rather temptingly delicious-looking blood orange dark chocolate bars, so I grabbed one and made my way to the self serve tills. I paid up and shot out as fast as my little, plump, hairy legs would let me! Up the hill to the bus stop. Where, a shoulder charging, a tut-tutting gang of people were shouldering for a position under the shelter to keep out of the rain. I didn’t take part, too risky!

A couple of busses arrived, and this cleared a gap for me under the shelter. And this is where an overgrown old man, nearly cried! Sob! I realised that in my rush not to miss the bus, I’d not collected my change for the orange bar, from the Asda till! Humph! So, I opened the bar and ate some of it! Well, I say some of it… erm… most of it. It was delicious, but me not picking up my change, took the edge off of the flavour a smidge!

When the L9 arrived, late, getting me, the trolley-guide, two bags of shopping and the full-of-foods basket on top, was a work of art, although not quickly done. The highlight of the incident was the laughter it brought from the other passengers! Hahaha! It appears I had accidentally taken some pictures throughout the trip, these are they, that I cannot recall taking: One, possibly in Asda although I can’t remember taking the camera out in there? The other obviously on the bus, maybe in Sherwood when I took the intended one of the rain on the way back?

This one I meant to take. Just before we arrived in Sherwood, just past the hospital on Edwards Lane, it was.

In Sherwood, I expected the bus to pick-up some of the Winwoodonians, but nobody from the flats got on. They must have got home early to avoid the weather? I don’t blame em!

  I got off the bus at the flats. My struggle to get the trolley down off of the step of the bus and the lid fell off from my little basket, instigated much hilarity from the other tenants waiting to get on the bus.

Anything to amuse. That’s me. Hehe!

I made straight back to the flat. And, oddly enough, as I struggled to get the trolley through the door, the little grey lid shot off again. I think it might have to go? I detached the wire basket, emptied the trolley bag and got all the things into the kitchen. Got them all stored away, found the receipts and put them near the computer for taking details from in the morning. For I sure was too tired to be up to doing do any computerisationing now.

I put the tablets away, after having a peek at the two-sided advice leaflet: Note please, I said a peek at, they were far too small to read. Harumph! Then I set about making a meal of monumental proportions. I don’t know why I do this? There never a cat-in-hells chance that I could eat it all! Wot a plonka!

I went fro a wash and polish-up. The little hobble had done the legs some good, I think.

I got settled in the £300 second-hand recliner to watch some TV. Over the next hour, the landline flashed twice. But both times it had stopped before I could get to it. Humph!

But the Arthur Itis knees and Back-Pain-Brenda gave me hardly any bother at all. Some other good benefit, come from the hobble?

I soon nodded of after the second call, and had a long kip!

I fank You!

 

Inchcock – Friday 10th January 2020:

Friday 10th January 2020

Hungarian: 2020 Január 10, Péntek

22:30hrs: I woke up, already concentrating on what will most likely, be my longest-ever updating session. Yesterday’s events will take a lot of sorting out. I took a few photographs and xyrophobia-suffering, flat-burglar,  brother-in-Law Pete, with his Galaxy S10+Fold, which increases the storage to 1TB. That operates as a normal smartphone until you open it, at which point it becomes a small tablet. A snip at £1514.4921, took the other photo’s at his mansion and sent them to me via email, to use.

With my concentration so bad at the moment, all I need is any of the following to kick-off: Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun or Neuropathic Nigel’s neurotransmitter failure to start, and it may never get finished. My Koyaanisqatsi, lack of proper education and knaifatic upbringing is handicap enough on there own, without the unwanted or asked for ailments helping. Humph!

I made a start on the updating as soon as I’d had made a tasty cuppa of Glennghettie tea, wash and took the medications.

I took a very shaky photo through the kitchen door facing the unwanted, new, light and view-blocking window cannot get to clean, windows. The shakes and twitching nerve transmissions are now really getting to me, as they have made my holding the camera steady enough to t a take any worthy, semi-clear shots are so annoying.

In between having many mugs of tea, consultations with the notes I made, and Dizzy Dennis visits, it took me until gone 09:00hrs to get the post finished and posted off! Yes, a total of over ten hours! Such is my ridiculous circumspection and lack of control of mind and body! I fear I might have to finish doing the Inchcock Today’s, and I love doing them to try and cheer folks up.

I am in a right pickle now. Drained and shaky. But something has to be done, or help found. I might just do the odd ode now and then, instead. Saccades Sandra didn’t help things today, she had me with double-vision. Causing me to do more correctionalisationing that typing! I am sad, undecided person. Unwashed and feeling despondent and so tired-out. Depressed beyond my own belief!

Gawd, reading this makes me feel a right sad moaning Git! However, I tried to pull around and pressed on sending some pictures to Pinterest. Went on the WordPress Reader. Then spent far too long on my beloved TFZer Facebooking. Topped up some photo albums. My typing got even worse now!

I got some mushrooms and peas ready to warm up. I put the oven heating up too.

As I did so, the door-chimes rang out. It was the second long-sleeved brown t-shirt delivery. That the Tracker said would arrive between the 11th and 14th of the month. Somehow, I’m not surprised.

A good job I hadn’t what I had initially planned to, and gone to see the Bank Manager today. Not that I would have had the time.

Around 1400hrs, I gave up altogether, and closed it all down, and went to get something to eat, before I fell asleep. Saccades, getting worse.

Got the nosh sorted. The place looked like a battleground by the time I’d got it served up. Dropped saucepan, spilt over bowel, scattered garden peas, blood from cutting the finger, crumbs… Humph!

Got down and ate the meal.. rating 7/10.

Washed the pots and did the handwashing.

Settled in the recliner and had a mind stew. I have to stop doing these dairy type things, they are just too much for me in my state.

Feeling low, unwell, undecided and decidedly down in the dumps.

Cheers, each.

Inchcock – Wednesday 8th January 2020: Confusing day. My mate Micheal visited, great chinwagging!

Wednesday 8th January 2020

بدھ 8 جنوری 2020: Urdu

23:50hrs: I semi woke up. Had a mental battle to regain control of my mind, passed a vast, blasting burst of wind. Combed my hair with a pink lawn rake, and the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Like a young whipper-snapper, I almost bounded out of the recliner, jumped up, and skipped my way to the wet-room without using a stick and singing Wayward Wind aloud and proud… and started to wash my well-toned muscular young, lithe body in a bath of Guinness, and lit my pipe…

23:57hrs: I woke up for real, and realised I’d been dreaming. I think I was enjoying having a fit body again, drinking the Guinness in the none-existent bath… but reality had to be faced. And oddly enough, the first thing I did, was to pass-wind, but only a sort ‘Phutt-Phutt’ job. Which did bring on the demand for the Porcelain Throne for real!

I had to cajole Arthur Itis into letting me get my legs off of the chair, he’s been so kind to me yesterday over the tumble. So he was due a little fun with me. Having achieved the first proper challenge, I faced the standing up and catching my balance routine. Not too bad, a bit of a wobble, but I got up, and then had to rush a bit, to get to the outbound salvation room in time. The evacuation went well, minimal bleeding. Arthur Itis was not willing to get up again off of the throne. I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. I olive-oiled the ear-holes, washed and off to the kitchen, with Arthur twinging away at me.

Made a brew and did the washing up from last night. And got the computer going. But…

I made a start by creating this post from scratch, I must get some more graphics done, today! After an hour or so, the craving for another mug of tea arrived. At the same time, as the flood of wee-wees began. Far too many to keep mentioning, most of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painful) variety. As I was bringing the tea to the computer, the stomach started gurgling, aching and hurting. I naturally assumed that Throne Session number two was required, but no, nothing but wind and a particularly foul odour escaped.

Back to the computer and then started updating the Tuesday blog. Due to the overpaid and rated Mr Fries inabilities and uncaring attitude towards his ever-paying-more, customers, this took me a long time to get done! Many wee-wees activated as I worked away.

I went to make another brew, this time Glenghettie Gold. Took the medications.

And tried my bestest to get a decent photographicalisation of the high in the sky moon. I was not over-successful as it happened. The reasons for this failure being, I think; 1) The moving clouds. 2) The neurotransmitter sensory nerves failing, causing trembling and shaking of the right hand and arm. 3) My not knowing what the heck I was doing. Haha! The first two were taken on Auto-Mode. The others in Nightime Panorama, no, Landscape!

I read and replied to some WordPress comment, and then post pictures to Pinterest. Then went on the WordPress Reader section, but before I could start, Porcelain Throne Session numb er Two arrived, so, off to the wet room.

This Throne session was not so good. Messy, slow, hard work, bleeding and exhausting! But, I recovered alright. After a clean-up and some more medicationalisationing, I returned to the WP Reader perusing.

Well, I have to go on CorelDraw for a mammoth graphic-creating session for the upcoming blogs. I’ll make another brew first.

Blimey, it took, me over three hours just to get a few Thought graphics done. The concentration is not good at all. Confusion reigning in the brain-box.

I got the nosh on. I ended up going for the luxury (Expensive) can of roast gammon, to go in the stew I was making, well, a type of stew. Onions, peas, tomatoes, and potatoes were broiled together and nearly ready, so I put in the can of ham, and got it stirred in well. As I was doing this, Shaking Shaun came all over me, with what I was sure was a neuropathic drop-something and flail-about dance coming on the right leg! When, the door-bell chimed, Huh! Not the best of timing, I thought, with me still in my jammies, unshaven, and shaking-all-over so’s to put it.

I made sure the thin dressing gown was not revealing anything for someone to laugh at en route to the door, and everything changed the instant I saw my old mate Michael stood there, looking tired, but happy! (I was probably more delighted at seeing Mike)

I welcomed him, and the nattering started, which didn’t stop for over an hour he was here. I felt years younger. As the whole kit and caboodle of worries, concerns and fears dissipated into the ether.

I turned as the expected Neuropathic Schuhplattler drop-something, and flail about dance’, (as Tim Hancock had Christened it, Hehe!) burst into action. I was in the hallway, so avoided going over, with the help of the handily placed close-to-hand walls. You’ve got to laugh! Although Mick was taken aback a bit, he’d not seen me have an unplanned imitation of a cross between the Hokey Cokey and the Twist before.

Mick went in the front room, while I checked the food was alright, I didn’t want it burning or bubbling, it was all in the saucepan now, on low heat. With the big pile of washing up in the sink. Hehe!

Poor Micheal, told me of his ups and downs since seeing me last. He had his campervan holiday, which he enjoyed. When he got back, a week or so later, he collapsed, and his sister found him in his flat on the floor. Called for an ambulance, and was told it would be two hours before anyone could attend, there had been an accident on the motorway! Other friends arrived, and out of concern for Michael, rang again, and then they were told it would now be three hours before an ambulance would arrive! His family sorted out transport, and they took him to the hospital themselves. I shan’t go into detail of the terrible treatment he received there, it was convoluted and depressing. Just that he was told… no, I’d better not.

But being Mike, he still brought a smile to my face and soul with his zest for life and witticisms and stories of woe.

By the way, Michael, when you call again mate, remind me of the treats I forgot about in the junk room, please.

By his leaving, it was like a light going out, a power-cut. And I returned to cooking in a lower spirit.

I was stirring the mishmash in the saucepan and decided to put some chips in the oven. I had totally forgotten about the potatoes in the stew! I tried to have a read of the cooking instructions on the can of ham. Even with the magnifier glass, it was impossible to see the writing. So, I got the camera, in hopes that they might come out more legible in a picture. Which they did.

Oh, heck! It should have been done it in a microwave oven, and finished off under the grill! I do not have either available (No microwave oven, and the rack doesn’t work!) Humph! I was uncertain if I should eat it or not. But it had been in the saucepan for over an hour with the other stuff? I thought, blow it, if it tastes wrong I can always just throw it away.

Then I realised after getting it served up and on the tray, I had the chips in the oven as well! What a plonker! So I got the other dish and put the fries onto that.

The things that Michael had gone through kept coming into my muddled, mind as I dined. (Poetry slipped in there!) Then, while stuffing my face, I pondered over my visiting Sister Jane in the morning. Ideally, I should take a stick with me but cannot carry it with all the treats I’m taking… can’t cope with it either with the trolley-walker, oh, dearie me. I can catch the 07:25hr L9, and this should give me plenty of time to Tesco to get some nibbles and treats, that I already have for HRH Jane and Prince Pete, but cannot carry.

Suddenly (well it seemed quick to me), I’d finished eating nearly all of the fodder on offer (I’d left some fries). The gammon was fatty and not very tasty, though. Everything else was fine apart from the fries, which were also bland tasting. Flavour Rating: 5/10.

The cooking of the gammon wrongly seems to have caused me no bother, yet, anyway.

I felt extraordinarily tired-out and got the washing-up done, then settled down into the £300 second-hand, c1968 recliner, the one that xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, as he was flat sitting while I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and took. The CCTV camera he can now monitor, to ensure the most destructive, annoying and grief-giving time in which to phone me up. Which are always either; As I get down to eat a meal, get seated on the Throne, I’m in the middle of cooking or just leaving the flat. Hehehe

At first, the mind was musing about Micheals problems, how cleverly the Government had cunningly forgotten all about Brexit, and how the hell am I going to get to HRH Sister Janes house in safety in the morning? But the mind eventually gave me a rest, cleared, and sleep came… Lovely!

TTFNski.

Inchcock: Saturday 4th January 2020: A damned daunting, demoralising, depressingly dispiriting day. Oy-Yoy-Yoy!

Saturday 4th January 2020

Hawaiian: Poaono 4 Ianuali 2020

02:45hrs: I stirred into an imitation-synthetic-pretend life, and wondered for a moment what the smell was I sensed. I realised it was the Eau-de-toilette spray that the nozzle had come free on, and I generously got over myself and the carpet a couple of days earlier. Why I should suddenly sniff it now, I don’t know?

As I was encouraging Arthur Itis to let me stand up, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, and I had to put up with Arthur’s agony to get top the wet room in time. (They’re getting more urgent every day, these evacuations?) But I made it in time. Then as things started automatically again, I thought they may never end! Just where it’s all coming from, beats me! Massive and messy, too!

I put the kettle on and decided to try and get a few shots of the moon while it was out of the clouds. As you can see below, I had to rush them a little. On the third effort, Shaking Shaun gave me a rattling just as I was clicking the camera. I couldn’t have produced this piece of abstract-artwork if I had tried to? Hehe!

Moon shot number one...

Took the medications, made the tea. As I was looking for the ear-dropper, I found notes for an ode I’d made long, long ago. I decided to get the updating done for the Friday diary, and then make-up and renew this unused poem.

Doing the diary, took me ages, as the autonomic nerves in the hand and fingers were playing up something awful. But did get on with amending and updating the Rhyme post. I made a header in CorelDraw: Befuddling Thoughts.

Part of the Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

 

 

Pretty pleased with myself, I went into Smug-Mode, as the mobile tone chirped put, it was a Text Message. It came from Iceland, at first I thought they were going to cancel my order again. I went on the Email to have a look. Sent a message to Sister Jane while I was on there. Then found an Iceland message, which read (See right) re; Iceland’s famously inept and unsuitable substitutes. But, I shall make do with the no Pork Shoulder steaks, and accept the horrible oversweet, sickly Toffee yoghourt substitutes and hand the nm into the Winwood Court Social room kitchen, later on, at least the can be made use of. I hope someone here enjoys them.

I went to make another mug of tea. And took these shots of the morning partly red skyline. Red sky in the morning, ‘Shepherds warning’?

I got handwashing soaking in the sink. Then trundled of hobblingly to the wet-room to get the ablutions done. Not one of my more successful sessions. Number one, it was too early to use the shower, and I do enjoy showering so much. So a stand-up wash was needed. Not the most refreshing of things.

Taking off my jammy bottoms, was a little akin to a Bull-in-China-shop! Humph! I knocked the following, although it might have been more, but, I can recall that two cans of body spray, the kitchen towel, my scissors, the Germoloid and the Clobetasone cream, and the crossword book and pen, all tumbled off onto the floor. The pen went down the back of the cabinet, so will probably be found after I have snuffed it. I managed to retrieve the other stuff, much to the annoyance of Anne Gyna and Arthur Itis! Tsk!

I did the teeth, only dropping the brush and toothpaste once each. Then the nasal spray. Moved on to shaving, and the foam can went twice, and the razors repeatedly, so much so, that I decided to do flannel wash first, hoping the Peripheral Neuropathy would have calmed down a bit, and the nerve-end would be working a bit better by then. The flannel went a couple of times out of my grip, as did the carbolic soap.

When I got back to shaving, I have to say I felt a bit a Smug and Clever Mode come over me. For the dropsies had reduced tremendously as the nerve-ends were getting the message to the brain at last! I moved up to a Sycophantic-Smarmy-Mode! But this didn’t stop me getting a few tiny cuts. Then, the dreaded Sock-Glide Battle! Arthur Itis is particularly ‘Anti-Sock-Glide’ today! But at least I avoided any toe-stubbings and finger trappings! Yeehaa!

I dressed and went to get the handwashing finished. I got it done and wrung, but a problem when I started to get it hung! The flaming hangar that  I use for the jammie-bottoms, shattered into pieces!

Of course, the wet freshly washed jammie trews fell on the floor I hoovered and mopped yesterday, and tipped the waste bin up over its way down! So had to be cleaned again! And believe me, Arthur Itis and Anne Gyna were not happy about this in the slightest! (I wasn’t exactly over the moon with it, myself!) There are times when life doesn’t seem to be going right – this, was one of them! Crabs and Grobblecraps! In fact, Double Crabs and Grobblecraps! I’m all Gumpy and irritable, now!

Shortly afterwards, the Iceland man cameth. I mentioned the substitutes and he told me, nothing to do with me, you should have an email, sort it with them, not me! I signed for the goods and he shot off like Mr Bolt, only quicker! Haha! It was plain to me, that Iceland was forever letting folk down, and some customers were blaming the delivery men?

I got the coat on, and took the black bags to the waste chute, on my way down to take the substituted toffee yoghourts to the Winwood kitchen. Once on the ground floor, I thought I’d take the canon camera out ready take few snaps en route to the kitchen through to Winwood Court. Sod-it! I’d left it up in the flat on charge! And, the fire door out to the alfresco benches in the corridor was wide open again! Great security for the old folks that! I’ve reported it three times this week!

I got to the kitchen room, and about nine people were sat having breakfast. I didn’t recognise any of the clan, but I threw them a merry-as-I-could-manage. “Good Morning each!” All I got back was looks that said. “Who’s he then?’ I handed the yoghourts in at the kitchen window and returned, depressed and miserable back to Woodthorpe Court.

As I went through from the warmth of Windwood Court into the bitterly cold Woodthorpe, a ladies voice called asking if I was alright, it was Chrissie (I think), with some bad news. Mo in the hospital had passed away. This put me in a right bad frame of mind, and I nearly had a cry for Mo, she was a right character, we all liked her so. Here’s the last photo I took of Mo. I’ll see if anyone is going to the funeral, I’d like to go. RIP Mo, loved you, gal! ♥

I got in the flat and did shed a few tears. Mo was not the sentimental sort, so I’ll try to remember her as she was on the day I took this photo, bless her.

I decided to get the things ready for the meal later. The first thing was to get the mushrooms in the slow cooker. I added some sea salt and a splash of the Sukang Puti vinegar. This Malaysian made brewed vinegar is so tangy. Mmm! I opened a can of potatoes and garden peas and put it in a saucepan ready.

This is where things went out-of-kilt for me again. What a pickle I got myself into! My depression as boosted straight away. Had I not had enough things go wrong already today?

I reached up into the cupboard above the kettle to get the plastic jar of demerara sugar to add some to the peas and spuds! Well, the myasthenia gravis and Neurotransmitters failed at just the wrong time, perfectly to cause the maximum damage! The tub fell out of the insensitive hand, via the cabinet below and kettle, into the jug of water, and the container split open – the sugar poured out all over the place and water slashed on everything! Including the kettle workings.

I got the mess in the sink as fast as I could, but it was a pointless effort on my part!

Cleaning and sorting cost me an hours time, at least. But, for some unfathomable reason, I kept at it, and even failed to commit suicide! Haha! 

I was down in the dumps, though. I half-heartedly updated this blog. Later, I tried to lighten it a bit.

I got the oven warming and when it heated enough, I put some smoked haddock and a battered whiting fillet in and watched over it cooking. I dare not keep an eye one it, after today’s series of mishaps. I carefully got the plate filled with feast-like foods, and when I got around to taking a photographicalisation of it, Shaking Shaun shunted into this Saturday’s shenanigans.

Not Dizzy Dennis, just Shaun. But that was enough, the mood he was in. By the time I got taken the tray of fodder into the front room, I found I had left a trail of garden peas, and the odd potato and slice of beetroot scattered behind me, on the floor! I put down the tray and got the picker-upperer to retrieve the dropsied food. (More cleaning and sorting to do! Depression can become habit-forming, yer know! Haha! Humph! By the time I got settled to consume the food, it was well not-warm! And yet, I ate it all, (not the retrieved bits, Hehe!) and found it tasty enough. Flavour rating worth 6.5/10. 

I was too knackered to bother doing the pots, and just put them in the sink to soak. Returned to the £300 second-hand c1968 rickety recliner to rest, but sleep was not an option, the mind-blasting started. I did not want to go over losing Mo and other calamities of the day in my head again.

So, I put on the Steven Seagal – Mike Tyson ‘Tribal Warfare’ DVD. It was that bad, it actually helped me escape the brain’s mind-blasting. Yet Shaking Shaun was still with me after I cut short the film, and had to rise for a wee-wee, a near disaster was averted by me going to the wet room, for Shaun was shaking just about everything, including Little Inchy.

Thank heavens for having the wet room, and the shower to clean up the sprayed all over the place evacuation, and the clean pair of trews to exchange with the old, er… now-wetter ones! Which I put in disinfectant and liquid soapflakes to soak in the bucket overnight.

Back to the recliner, a shattered, depressed, welmish, tired and monumentally pissed-off old Nottinghamian, in search of peace of mind, a reduction in Whoopsiedangleplopalisation, and some sleep. Please!

Inchcock: Thurs 2 January 2020: Dizzy Dennis had a ball with me today. Humph!

Thursday 2nd January 2020

Igbo (South-Eastern Nigeria): Tọzdee 2 Jenụwarị 2020

23:45hrs: Ah, I woke up with the immediate needs of old this morning. Nothing mattered more than getting to the Porcelain Throne in time! So much so, that I nearly fell out of the £300 second-hand recliner, dropped the walking stick, and passed-wind all the way to the wet room, and barely made it in time. The evacuation started of its own accord, but soon needed some painful encouragement from me to complete things. 

When it was all over, and I noticed a couple of good aspects of the session, only a few specks of blood from the rear quarters, and Little Inchies fungal lesion was not bleeding or leaking at all! The flushing seemed to clear away that plentiful dollop of input with ease, too.

But it left the tummy aching a bit. Not surprising, with having gone so long without the pleasure of an evacuation, Hehe! The pins (legs) seemed to have kept their one more significant than the other status from yesterday, but the varicose, spider and iliac veins seemed to be hiding away? Also, the Clopidogrel lumps and blotches were far less prominent. They had lost their colouring and returned to the ghostly anaemic paleness. Still, their nonuniformness gives my life a bit of interest. The legs and the evacuationalistical variations stop me fever ever getting bored with life! Depressed, yes, but jaded, no! Hahaha!

I finished the updating of the Wednesday blog in good time. Being stuck indoors with no buses and not up to hobbling, meant so few photos to sort out. I added some to the Pinterest site, then went on the WordPress Reader. Next, my enjoyable bash at the TFZer Facebooking.

All ready to make a start on this Thursday post, and I went to make a mug of tea and took the medications. I’d just put the kettle on when bubbling and wind, none-stop, emitted from the rear-end! I may have broken the walking with a stick speed record, as I whizzed, wobblingly to the wet-room! This time, my getting sat down on the plastic time, was cut fine. The evacuation flowed all on under its own steam, and hurt a bit as it did so! It was soon completed, surprisingly the amount of product in the porcelain was astronomical in size.

The system did not cope with one flush! I’d have liked to bend the flapper-valve rod to make the tank fill-up quicker, but dare not touch it, not with my mechanical inabilities and making-a-mess-of record. So I had to fill it with water from the sink and flush again – Twice; before it cleared the system! Tsk!

Washed and cleared up and back to make the brew!

I took this photograph as I entered the kitchen, just cause I thought it looked different.

A wrong decision as it happens. I dropped the metal-four-pronged stick, which bounced against the cabinet and back down, right on my corn! (I may have silently said something like, ‘Oh, bother!’, or ‘Fancy that!’) But I do recall making a mental note to myself: “Don’t go in the kitchen again, without putting the light on first! – Pillock!”

As I made a start on this post: Guess What?

Crabs and Grobblecraps! Well fancy that, and just a week after they turned of the service to Upgrade and Improved the service. Service and Liberty-Global should not be used together; they are so far apart!

It wasn’t down too long this time and soon returned to Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet’s usual mode – Slow!

I went on CorelDraw, to work on a couple more graphics to use in the templates. Got a couple only done and off back to the Porcelain Throne! This second releasing was as big as the first one was! Still, after so long without one, it was to be expected.

The work was saved, and the computer turned off. And off I went to the kitchen to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung.

Then I tackled the risky daily job of ablutionalisationing! It was not one of my luckier sessions. I did the teggies, with several dropsies of the brush (3) and toothpaste tube (1). The shave produces more… I know, I can Christen these as, maybe ‘Whoopsiedangleplopdropsies’? A bit long, isn’t it? Hehe! The shave produced many more, all the razors (5), the neurotransmitters failure to get transmissions to the brain being the cause. Then as if by magic, the nerve-ends seemed to start working again, which pleased me much. The occasional odd lack of sensitivity, of course, occurs all the time, but a batch of them like when I was doing the teeth and shaving, is a rarity. Showering, I managed to keep a hold on the shower-head, but the carbolic soap slipped away a few times (5). All went well with the towelling off. Checking on the pins (legs) was almost a pleasure.

The right peripheral neuropathy affected leg was still much thinner than the left pin. Although once again pale and were anaemic looking and colour.

The Clopidogrel lumps and clumps were not showing at all. There were no more new blood papules, either. And the varicose and spider veins seemed to had gone into a Hide-away-mode?

But the Sock-Glide battle proved to be a painful one. The gripper gave me a blood-blister. Which, of course, was nothing new or unexpected. It was over-confidence that caused this minuscule little injury. When I dopped the glide, and it landed on my toe. I think I may have uttered an exclamatory word along the lines of ‘Bother’ or something similar. I think it might be less painful for me to try and put the socks on manually. I was thinking about it, though maybe not. Arthur Itis, Dizzy Dennis, and Anne Gyna would only give me more hassle. Tsk!

When I started to clean the wet room shower floor after the session, I came across this, whatever it is near the floor drain?

Any ideas anyone, please? 

I was spraying some of the Poundland Store’s eau de toilette for men on my treble-chinned neck, and the top came off, leaving me smelling pungently-strong of the perfume rather! Oh, dearie me!

I applied the Phorpain Gel, Germaloid cream, Clobetasone cream, Corticosteroid cream, Daktacort lotion, Capsaicin and Clopidogrel ketoconazole. Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Salved the cracked lips. Savlon cream on the injured toe. Got the hearing aids, checked the batteries were working and put them in. Put the correct spectacles on. Then got myself dressed up warmly, got the three-wheel-walker-guide, and took the black bags with me dropping them down the waste chute, en route to the bus stop. (There’s no nipping out quickly when you get old, yer know. Hehe!) I was worn out before I left the flat!

Chuted the black bags, down in the lift and along the link-corridor through to Windwood Court and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinators), Wardens Interoggation and slagging-off Office. The fire-escape door out to the as yet, unused due to the door that doesn’t let us back in, and the weather, alfresco seating area. The door was open again. (I hope to live long enough to have some decent weather, sunshine, and the door and ingress mechanism gets mended, and enjoy a sit out there with the crossword book and a flask of tea).

But I don’t hold out much hope for any of the scenarios I spoke of coming to fruition. Tsk! (I mentioned this later to Steve, the caretaker, but interest was minimal) I suppose if a gang of youths were to break in, well, walk in and rifle and rob some flats, maybe the odd assault on us old uns, it might then be taken seriously by Nottingham City Homes? Or not!

I popped into the Obergruppenführeresses holding-cell office. Handed some nibbles out, wished the ma great new year and thanked them for being there, and meandered into t the big Social Area room, and sateth me down, and got out the crossword book. Fifteen minutes later, (one answer got), I moved out to the bus stop.

In the Winchester Court lobby, I chatted with Angela and Roy for a minute or two, then I went out to the bus shelter. Cor Blimus! The cold biting wind was hardly bearable! The sunshine hitting us, without the faintest sign of any heat in it! Brrr!

A big ganglet of residents grew even larger. So IU had plenty of nattering to listen to. Jean-Mary, Brenda and another lady were the only folks to get on the City Bouid bus, leaving the other fifteen or so, to get the Sherwood – Arnold bound L9. As we got on, Arthur Itis kicked off badly. He kept giving me almost stabbing pains in both knees, for ages. Mary and I  had a chinwag en route.

We arrived in the City Centre and parted after getting off of the bus. I meandered into the Poundland Store. The knees made progress slow and painful, but there was no rush. A lot of the shelves were looking a little threadbare, as to be expected at this time of year. I got to the self-serve tills, they were not busy at all. A lady put my things through for me in no time and put them in the carrier bag for me. Thank you, Madam! I left the store and redistributed the goods, so I could cope with them betterer. Putting the more substantial items in the trolley bag, and the lighter in the carrier, to hang it over the handlebars. I’d got in them: Pork Farms pork pies (2), pea snacks, and walnuts. Some screwdrivers with different heads on them (2 packs of 4). A chunky orange Kit-Kat, Orange flavoured chocolate digestives (A weakness, I know!), cashew nuts and a Dettol lemon-scented antiseptic disinfectant spray.

 I crossed the road, and into the Victoria Centre (Mall) to go to the HMV shop to see if the had ‘The Negotiator’ DVD in stock.

As I walked through the mall to the other end, Dizzy Dennis attacked me, and I just cannot recall how I got over the road-crossing, went through the Boot’s store, or into the HMV shop. I came around, while I was at the serving desk, and a bloke was asking me about who is in the film? I was still confused as to what we were talking about. The chap was very patient with me. It seems that I could not recall the name of the star in the Negotiator (Samuel L Jackson). The film is no longer made on DVD. Shame! I asked if they had any compilations of Steven Seagal early films. They had only two of his in stock. One under Seige one and two, the other was called Tribal Warfare. A newer one, but he said it has subtitles on it. So I must have mentioned my need of then to him earlier, but had no memories of doing so? At this moment, things seemed to back to normal with me? I’m not sure why, but I bought the Warfare DVD, maybe because I felt guilty about messing the bloke about?

As I left, I got the film out of the bag and had a look at it. Oh, dear! On the banner across the top of the box, it said: Mike Tyson v Steven Seagal! This may find its way to the charity shop without being watched.

I met Mary-Jean, and we made our way to the bus stop to go home. I mentioned I wanted to call in the Next shop, to get spending vouchers for Sister Jane’s birthday. But as we nattered about nothing, failing to hear each other clear enough with us both being a touch-deaf, the calling in the Next shop left my brain altogether! There are times I really annoy myself!

Out onto Upper Parliament Street and to the bus shelter. Plenty of time, so I took some photographs of up and down the road.

Mary-Jean near the shelter
Jean-Mary and I, arrive at the shelter
The crossing I could not remember crossing earlier!
Corner of Milton Street traffic lights

We chatted with other passengers on the way home, but I was battling to keep awake most of the journey. Back at the apartment courts, we walked through the link passages back to Woodthorpe Court, the wind seemed a lot worse around the flats. We saw Steve, and I mentioned about the door in the passage being open all day, not much response.

Up in the flat, my thoughts were of a coenaculous nature, and after a wee-wee and washing up, preparation of something to eat took priority. I got the oven warming up, put the purchases away, then got the chips in the oven, and set the timer for 18-minutes, to remind me to put the part-baked cobs in so they were both done at the same time.

I split and buttered the cobs, leaving the oven chips to brown off a bit more. Then added the fries to the chopped pork pie and beetroots on the plate. Added the fresh orange juice and lemon yoghourt to the dish. Along with the medications, and got down in the recliner to feast. Flavour-rating, a worthy 8/10!

All imbibed, I got the pots washed, rubbed some Phorpain in the knees, and settled in the Zyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete damaged. At the same time, he was flat-sitting, when I was in the Stroke Ward, and he fitted new CCTC cameras and searched for my valuables, which he found and stole, for safe-keeping he claimed, recliner to watch some TV.

A Kitchen Nightmare programme was on for me to see. But I didn’t. Zzzz!

Inchcock: Wednesday 1st January 2020: May everyone’s New Year be a betterer one, though there’s little chance of that. Hehe!

Wednesday 1st January 2020

Croatian: Srijeda, 1 Siječnja 2020. Godine

23:55hrs: I was up and about; and had been up now, for over 24 hours. But, I was determined to try and take some pictures of the birth of New Years Day. Hopefully, to catch some of the firework displays. I got the Nikon camera, made sure that the SHD card was in the slot, and off to the kitchen, and opened the light & View blocking new windows and waited for the show to start. Which it did dead on time.

It was not a good year, every display seemed miles away, and before I could set things up, it was dying off. So, I took many photos willy-nilly in the hope that some of them would come out alright.

I then added the only two half-decent ones to the Tuesday blog, updated and finished it, and it sent off post-haste. Then, I visited the TFZer Facebook, and made a few new 2020 albums ready to use, and posted some piccies off.

Then, back on CorelDraw, and did a couple more graphics to use, and made up two templates. It took me three hours, but although no sleep, I seemed to get a second wind. So I started this post going. Here are the best of the New Year view pictures.

Blimey, I caught one! Hehehe!

I got them on here, and almost flaked out. Haha! I just had to stop, make a cuppa and get into the £300 second-hand rickety recliner and get my head down.

Huh! Get my head down? Not a cat in hell’s chance! The old brain-storms of worries, fears, anticipations, guilt, and none-expectations of any improvement in life. Soddening any remaining sediments, vestiges of my sustainability of sanity! I think sheer tiredness got me of to kip a few hours later.

10:30hrs: I woke, initially all confused over it being daylight, with a mist visible outside, through the deadly finger-tearing, crumbling-ceilinged balcony. Then, as the stomach rumbled, a little in the style, I imagine of Mount Etna, and painfully, I realised that the Porcelain Throne had not been utilised for over 28 hours! Surely this time?

I readied to dismounted the £300, second-hand, sickeningly-beige-coloured, cheerless chair – Panic! Where is the walking stick? I always leave it handy, in case of nocturnal wanderings, evacuations needed or medical emergencies. The two usual places were checked but no stick there! As I rose, to have a look around further, I was lucky enough that Arthur Itis, Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald were all in a good frame of mind with me. (Yes, me, lucky! Good start to the new year, but worrying, it had to be con-job or a ploy to get me semi-contented before some calamity commeth) I soon found the stick, as I trod on it and stubbed a toe. I collected it, and off to the Porcelain Throne. I sat there for a few minutes, my innards telling me to expect a massive evacuation any time now, and my rear end, saying no chance? At least I got a good session on with the crossword book. As nothing moved, well, a lot moved actually, but it was all inside, rumbling, grumbling and internal reverberations caused as much discomfort as they could.

I got myself out of the wet room, to the kitchen, to get a brew and take the medications. A haziness lingered, and the innards kicked-off again – this was going to be close, I thought. I got to the throne, and spent another ten minutes or so, waiting for the non-arrival, putting up with the brewing and kicking stomach, and having another go at the crossword book. The rumblings stopped, but nothing moved. Time for the Movicol or Macrogol compound to be taken. So I made a mug Macrogol and imbibed it. I felt no reaction from the solar plexus. Sometimes when I have had to take Macrogol, the bubbling and churning is almost instant, but not today. Everything felt as solid as a rock! Even the wee-wees were short, weak and far between? Botherations!

No buses today. But I did need to try and catch-up on the page top graphics. So, without even a wash and shave, I got on CorelDraw to try and get some done in advance. After making a mug of tea, of course.

Well, only one wee-wee, no Throne demands at all during ‘the five hours’ that I was doing graphics. I’m tired enough to stop now.

I’ll try again to go to the toilet for a heavy-duty evacuation, the innards are aching badly now. No joy, I reckon someones been in and superglued my intestines. Hehe! I could explode at any time! The legs are not too Clopidgrelled, but still pale and with two different fatted pins! Har-har!

I went in to get the oven and pan of mushrooms with balsamic vinegar in the pan. No doubt about it being a Bank Holiday, all the cars parked outside the houses tell me that.

Got the nosh cooked and served up. Cheesy mash, chicken slice sarnies, beetroot etc. and it was good. I took a photo and saw that it was blurred, so l took another one, that looked better. Come the morning when I wanted to load the good picture on here, they had both disappeared into the ether from the damned SHD card! Grrr!

Washed up. Thought about doing the handwashing, but didn’t, and got down in the £300 second-hand recliner, put the TV on, and fell asleep before the TV had warmed up!

Inchcock Today – Tuesday 31st December 2019: A better year, I hope! Tsk!

Tuesday 31st December 2019

Esperanto: Marde 31 Decembron 2019

 23:40hrs: I woke up, again without the immediate need for the Porcelain Throne! That’s two mornings on the trot now.

I clambered to free my blubbery roly-poly bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, near-dilapidated, gungy-beige coloured recliner. I had to appreciate the lack of attention from Anne Gyna, Reflux Roger, Saccades Sandra, Dizzy Dennis and Duodenal Donald. My balance was a bit off, and the autonomic nerves missing signals to send to the brain, were, I reckon the chief culprits for this. But the finger-ends were not too bad at all, sensitivity-wise. So I moved into a sort of semi-contented but with reservations mode.

Grabbed the stick and went to the kitchen. Oh, dearie me! I soon spotted some bits of glass that I had missed in my so-called cleaning up from the Whooposiedangleplop last night. So, I thought I’d better get them up straight away, for fear of treading on any, with the blood so thin. The floor needed mopping as well, but that can wait.

I got the kettle on, took the medications, oiled the ear-holes, and made a brew. Had a wee-wee, that came out as another LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) variety. Please read the comment from Tim Price, on yesterday’s post, it’s clever witty and brilliant!

I pressed on with the updating of the Monday blog. No dizzy Dennis visits, but the finger-ends played up a little. But Saccades Sandra was in a good mood with me. It still took me longer than I had hoped. I got it finished and sent off, though. Went on the WordPress Reader, a lot on there today. Then sent some snaps to Pinterest. Next, onto my favourite, the TFZer Facebooking.

It was now time to get the Ablutions done. Gives me time to get ready for the Morrison Delivery that is coming after 06:30 hours. I stripped off and got the handwashing done before going in the shower. Again, it was done, wrung and hung to start drying. The right hand and arm were a bit painful after doing the washing.

Off to the wet room. Things went well for a change. Only a few dropsies. No shaving cuts! The sock-glide battle was won without any injuries (Oh yes!), and no bleeding at all from Little Inchies fungal lesion! Swank-Mode engaged! That was until it came to my getting dressed.

I noticed that the legs looked a little pale, blotchy and dodgy, so went to fetch the camera to take this photographicalisation of the pins. I took the shot, and running around with nothing on, took the camera back. But could I find the lens cap? No! I spent a good while searching both the front room and the wet-room, without any luck. This was especially galling and harrowing, cause I did the same the other day! I had to give up the hunt, and get dressed and ready things for the Morrison delivery. Of course, I kept an eye out for the cap. I felt sure I’m left it somewhere I thought was visible and in plain view? Humph! 

I got the ‘Man’s Eau de Toilette’ spray squirted under my arms. (I’m hoping Nurse Christina will call today, and be at my mercy… well, alright, sorry! I can dream, can’t I?) Hah-har! I was giving some almost severe thoughts to mopping the kitchen floor, and the intercom light flashed. It was the Morrison delivery arriving.

They had made some substitutes again! Still, they didn’t bother me too much. But their hiding of the cost of the ordered items initially, meant I didn’t know if the substitutes were cheaper or dearer? Most disconcerting!

I got the things packed away. I believe it can be said that I now have full cupboards and fridge! Ahem!

I got it all stashed away, and went to the computer room. Where, I found the flaming lens cover – as I said, in plain view! Right on top of a nibble-pot of flaky pastry fingers! Oh, I do feel a right ‘nana, a fool, nae, an imbecile! Nae, a right pillock!

I got on with starting this blog off. At 10:00hrs, I began to wonder if it will be Angel nurse Christina calling. What time will she or someone else arrive?

Blow me down, Christina arrived as I was typing this! We had a natter while she took my blood, and I had control certain emotions and body-parts. Handed her some nibbles for the new year. We exchanged the platitudes and New Year wishes, she smiled, I melted, and off she went.

Too late for me to get the 10:30hrs bus. So, I decided to go down with the old and new phones (Mobiles) to see if Deana can sort out the SD card swapping for me. Then go to get some cleaning stuff from Wilko in Sherwood.

I met Roger in the lift lobby, we had a moan between us. I got to the ILC’s Warden Holding Cell office, and the new gal and Julie were in, but Deana wasn’t. I explained my problem, and the new Wardeness soon got the mobiles and sorted them for me. Bless her!

All done too quick for me to learn anything, but I now have an ordinary mobile, with a battery that lasts for longer than six hours! An old Nokia. Gone is the ever bleeping internet that I didn’t use.

Thanks to the gal.

Handed a few nibbles out, and set off on a hobble to Sherwood. It was a bit nippy out there, and not a lot of folks about. 

I pressed on with the three-wheel-guide with its bad brakes and over-eager inclinations to tip over. Down Winchester Street to Mansfield Road. With Dizzy Dennis showing himself a few times, which is not unusual for me when going downhill.

A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
A quiet-quite Mansfield Road
6 / 6

I had a mosey up to the Wilko store and got the cleaning things I needed. Ylang & Freesia wash capsules and fabric conditioner. Liquid soapflakes and some peanuts. Paid the £9.85 bill, and by the time I got outside, there was no time to go as planned, to the Charity shops to look for a replacement long-coat (The current one I was wearing, has a nasty ever-increasing is size slit in it. Tsk!) Else I would miss the bus back up the hill. I poddled up to the bus shelter.

I thought for a moment that the bus shelter might have been being used as a morgue? My, ‘Hello’ to the other waiting passengers didn’t even get a scowl back from any of them, nothing, no response at all. Had I died, and no one had told me? Had they kicked the bucket? Hehehe!

On the L9, natter with a lady already on the bus en route, and we were soon back at the flats. The uneasiness, nae, oddness continued on my way through Winchester lobby, link route to Winwood Court and the passageway to Woodthorpe Court. I gave a ‘Good afternoons’, and a few ‘How are you’s’ out on the way, but got blanked, and few furrowed brows? Had I morphed into an alien?

Up in the elevator, and still, no wee-wee or Porcelain Throne demands were called for were needed when I got in the flat?

While getting the nosh prepared, a mist came down. I opened the light & view-blocking new window to take this shot, as Dizzy Dennis gave me a battering! But it was a short sharp one that didn’t bother me too much. He’s (Dizzy Dennis) has been a lot worse recently. So, no complaints… yet!

I’d bought the Smoked Haddock fillet with West Country Cheddar Centre fishcakes to try, expensive, but horrible they were! Well, that’s not true, perhaps Nothing Special and certainly unfishy tasting is a more apt description.

The chips, garden peas with demerara sugar added, beetroots and sea-salted tomato milk roll sarnies, and caramelised pickled red onions made up for the crap, ‘The Best’? Morrison’s bland fishcakes. I’ve got another two in the fridge, Tsk! Maybe Josie would like to try them on Sunday, they have a use-by date of 6th January? A flavour-rating of 7/10.

Taking the things to be washed-up, I dropped the fork from the tray, when I got down on all fours to retrieve it, I spotted the long-missing Quatermass BBC TV DVD, underneath the cabinet. Ah, thought I, I’ll watch this one now!

Although I had to get back up on my feet first! Tsk! I got the pots washed and got around to settling down early to watch one of the Quatermass series. I love the music on them. I stayed awake for the whole of the Quatermass Experiment, although the ending had long been lost by the BBC and it was considerably shorter than the others, that were complete. I fell asleep before the tape/disc/DVD had run out.

I woke, thinking that at last, that I needed the Porcelain Throne. But it was another false alarm. I’d hoped the involuntary escapages of wind and rumbling stomach meant it was to be evacuation time, but, no! Washed and took this photo of the mist getting a little thicker, as I made a mug of tea. I got down in the recliner and drifted off again in seconds.

I woke with the light on, convinced it was getting up time, around midnightish as it has been recently. I noticed the pins (legs) with one fat and plump, and the peripheral neuropathy and sensory nerve-ends dying affected right leg, had gone thin and soft fleshed/muscled? The saphenous and spider veins were showing through distinctly, but only at the top of the legs, but not the varicose veins? The pins were a tad pale, anaemic-looking again. At least the ever-changing limbs make for a bit of interest now and then, with the omnipresent transformations taking place sometimes into several differing versions a day. Hahaha!

I went to make another brew and take the morning medication, but realised it was 18:40hrs!

I updated this blog, then went on CorelDraw to try and get some graphics done to the templates. Only got one done for tomorrow. I’m tired again, but would like to take the first photo of the new year, and get it on here, before possibly nodding off for a week or so! Haha! My concentration has now gone completely. So I got the kitchen floor mopped. 

I’m trying to stay awake long enough to photograph any fireworks on show, as the New Years trundles in, with its forecasts of War, Tsunamis, Terrorism and the end of the World!

I got to take some photographs, but I was very disheartened and disappointed with how they came out. These two were the only ones that were worthy of publishing, and then only just about so!

The others I took, I’ll think about and have a closer look at in the morning. Or it might be afternoon before I wake up. Gawd, I’m shattered now! Poor old thing!

Head down now!

TTFNski each! Have a great new year!

Inchcock Today – Mon 30 Dec 2019: Much Kindness was shown me today. And a battering from shoppers. Haha!

Monday 30th December 2019

Welsh: Dydd Llun 30ain Rhagfyr 2019

23:25hrs: I woke up, with a feeling of loss, a missing factor, a vague impression of confusing absence of something or other? As I began to manipulate the removal of my sadly overly stomach-burdened body from the recliner, I nervously raised up on my feet, so as to test-out Dizzy Dennis and Arthur Itis’s malignant intentions for the morning. Puzzling for a few moments, and it came to me; I didn’t need the Porcelain Throne on waking up! The Throne demands have been instant on opening my eyes, for around nine days on the trot. (Trot? A suitable word, Hehehe!) I could sense that Dennis was lingering, awaiting his opportunity to attack. But Arthur Itis was in a serene, relaxed mood.

Not bringing in (or needing) the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-wee-Bucket) last night, I went to the wet room for the wee-wee. And, was caught out, after all the weak efforts of the previous few weeks, by the LHNPOS (Long-Hosepipelike-No-Pain-Or-Sensation) wee-weeing that exploded out! The colouration was a shock too. Or I should say, the lack of colour was highly-noticeable! Mmm? I started a sneezing bout afterwards, no connection I’m sure. I bet that went down well with the neighbours, Oh dear! I had to clean up bounced back wee-wee from the jet-like evacuation, and mucus from all the sneezing! It’s a good job I have plenty of bleach and disinfectant to hand.

I got the kettle on, took the medications and then a photo through the unwanted, dislike, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, can’t get to, to clean them new kitchen window.

There was still a bit of the red glow out there from earlier last night. I took it in the ‘Aperture-Priority’ setting. Not too bad. Then I made the brew of possibly the best tea available, Thompsons Punjana (Not to be confused with their Everyday tea, which is like cat-wass!)

I got on with the updating of the stuck-indoors Sunday post. It didn’t take me too take long for two reasons. One, there were so few photographs to use that needed amending. Two, the finger-ends peripheral neuropathy and autonomic nerves were rarely giving me any bother! I could not help going into Appreciative- Smug-Mode!

I made another brew, this time of the superb extra-strong Glengettie tea. I noticed the scene outside had changed a little. The red glow was now gone. Also, when I opened the light & view-blocking kitchen window to take this shot, it seemed to have gotten a lot colder! Brrr! 

A sneezing bout started again! And I dropped the camera lens protector cover, and it rolled with such precision, around the floor straight into the gap between the cooker and the cabinet! Then I could not find the picker-upperer to retrieve it! Gobblesticks and Knackerations!

I checked last night’s handwashing that was hanging up above the sink, and above the Einstein-needed to understand how to operate (For old senile sods like me, this is the last type of heater we needed fitting!) wall storage heater. I suppose that decisions on which to buy and install, depending on back-handers at the top? They really are like the intercom system, just too confusing to use! They have tiny buttons we cannot see or read, let alone risk pressing them. Leaving us with no option but to just leave them on, and feed the greed of the Utility Company bosses? Humph! I got carried away a bit there, sorry.

I moved the handwash clothing around. I and had to carefully put the jammie-bottoms on the much-fell over, bent twisted but still working tubular airer. And have to keep moving them around to get some benefit from the machine. Which in turn helped me find where I’d left the new £15 picker-upperer, as I noticed it hanging on the corner of the airer.  Haha!

Back to the computer, to go on the WordPress Reader, and;

I managed to use the reader, but the TFZer Facebooking was a struggle with everything so slow going. But, after an hour or so, things got up to the average Liberty-Global Virgin Internet Media pace – Slow, but working!

Things of an edacious nature came to mind, and I poddled to the kitchen fridge to see what was available for my morning nibbling session.

I did some more handwashing, done, wrung and hung. Made up some waste bags and one large recycling one, ready to take down with me.

Then went to get the ablutions tended to. Amazing; No shaving cuts, no knocking anything over, and only a handful of dropsies. Self-Congratulatory-Mode temporarily adopted!

Checked the hanging handwashing and moved yesterdays on the airer. Got the coat on, and stopped to have a think about should I go out, or not? The blood nurse is booked for Tuesday, but that was given me by the Doctors Surgery receptionist, who has, like myself, been known to get things wrong before. The day has been a Monday for several weeks. So, I decided to leave it until the 10:30hr bus, and go up to Aldi, where I can get some tinned garden peas with a ring pull opener. However, the walking back down Mapperley Rise, makes me a tad nervous at the thought of it.

I had some treats for the new year for the ILC’s. I decided to take the bags to the chute, then the recyclist bag to the caretaker’s room, and call to drop off the pressies at the Obergruppenfurher’s Interrogation room, then come back and do some updating on this, and catch the bus later. Blimey, me? Making plans? Summat wrong here! Hahaha!

Leaving the flat, I rang Josie’s door-bells, no answer. Down in the lift, dropped off the recycling bag, and through the link passage to the Wardens holding cell office. I didn’t meet a soul en route. The office was locked and unlit. So I didn’t see a Warden either.

Walking with the walker-guide back through the link route, I was surprised to see that the door out to the new alfresco seating area was open?

So, a lack of security for the old folks here! I’ll see if I can find anyone to report it to on my way to the bus, later on.

Getting back in the flat, I rang Josie’s door-bells, no answer. Got in, and almost automatically went for a wee-wee, but, confussingly, there was no need. Haha! I got some updating of this blog done, and Porcelain Throne demand number Two arrived, which is far better than it coming while I was out shopping! On the way out, I rang Josie’s door-bells, no answer.

Closed down and set out again. Down in the lift. The corridor fire escape door was still ajar as I passed by. No one in the ILC’s room. On and through to Winchester Court. Doris and other ladies sat in the foyer. I stayed with them a while, chinwagged, then out to the bus stop. Where I spotted a visit from the Ossifers of the law car parked near the turning island.

Christine, Cyndy… oh, about fifteen of us Winwoodonians gathered. Where more gossiping about nothing and everything took place. Insults exchanged, sarcastic gems noted, and the world was put to rights. Hee-hee! I took a photograph of Winchester Court from the beneath it.

Then a photograph of Winwood and Woodthorpe Courts from the bus stop. The City Bound bus arrived, and only a few of us need it, all the other members of the gang waited for the Sherwood, Arnold and Bestwood L9. The lady driver was kind and waited patiently for me to get settled in the side-saddle seat, and checked if I was all seated before moving off ♥.

The bus ride was only for a few stops. I got off at the top of Sherwood Vale, again the driver was patient with me ♥ . I walked along Woodborough Road (carefully, but no Dizzy Dennis visits), to the Aldi Store.

Not much exercise here then. The place was busy, but not very noisy as it usually is. Maybe some of the shoppers, who walked into me, shoulder charged me, pushed trolleys into me, drove over my foot, etc. were still hung-over? I wished I had a breathalyser I could have produced, for a bit of fun! ” Being in charge of a shopping-trolley while above the legal limit or unfit through drink”? Or maybe, “Careless Shopping (Shopping without due care and attention)”, or “Shopping without Insurance or an MOT”? Hehehe!

But the lack of gossip, laughter or noises from kids was remarkable. So much so, that I checked to make sure the hearing aids were still working?

Not until I had finished over-spending and was putting the items on the check-out conveyor, did Dizzy Dennis arrive! I started dropping things, shaking and went into a semi-vague mode. The tut-tutting began from those in the queue behind. But, the young lady on the checkout was patient with me. She packed some of the things into the bag for me ♥. Thank you

I moved to the packing shelves to sort things out properly. I believed that the dizzies came on at the till, but rearranging the goods, I had bought some things that I can’t remember getting? Anyways-up, I got the things placed for the optimum balance between the trolley bag and the larger carrier bag. Dennis was clearing away as I did this, and I decided not to walk back to the flats after-all. As after checking with my second-hand, charity shop-bought, rusty, £2 wristwatch, with its £10 new strap and £15 battery, I found I had over fifteen minutes to get back to Sherwood Vale, to catch the bus back home. Plenty of time, even for me.

I got to the Sherwood Vale bus stop without any problems, by which time Dizzy Dennis had left me altogether. (Manic-Smile-Of-Relief-Adopted) When I got down the hill to the bus stop, I thought I might have a job seeing the bus arrive. The, oh, so cold sun and vehicles blocked or hindered my view.

Luckily, it was the same caring driveress on the L9. She greeted me like a long lost father! Again she held off pulling away until I was ensconced safely in the side-saddle seat.

Dorothy (I think that’s her name?) was on the bus. She’s got a right load in her four-wheeled trolley and three carrier bags! Hehe! We had a natter on the short trip back and said a farewell as she got off, I went last. The lady driver insisted on putting down the ramp to allow me to walk the trolley off easily, bless her cotton socks. She mentioned how pale I was looking today. I’ll have a look in the mirror later. I thanked her and had a short few words of acknowledgement with Bill and some others waiting to get on the bus. And Bill said: ‘Bloody ‘ell, you look like a ghost!’ Very encouraging! Hehe!

I made my way into Winchester Court, through into Winwood, no one in the Hauptbereitschaftsleiteress’s Warden’s interrogation room. Down the link passage, and noticed the fire-escape entry/exit door to the alfresco seating, was now closed. Through the swipe-door, and there was Oberstgruppenführeress, pole-dancer Warden Deana chatting with tenant Francis. I butted in with some nibbles, and handed the bag of new year treats over. A chinwag, and off up in the elevator back to the flat.

I rang Josie’s door-bells and struggled to get the heavily loaded trolley through my flat door, and Josie appeared at hers. She handed me back the plate and cutlery from her Sunday nosh. I asked her if she enjoyed it, and she said yes! Another mini-victory for Inchcock!

I got in my hallway and took the tray to the kitchen. Then returned for the trolley, and moved it closer to the Chef’s room, to unload. But still no need of a wee-wee?

A fair-sized shop. Cashew nuts, porridge oats, hazelnut chocolate bars for Inchcock, tomatoes, German cooked ham, sourdough baguettes, bread thins, lemon yoghourt, garden peas with ring-pull openers, tuna for Josie’s noshes, caramelised onion chutney, light lemon Greek-style yoghourt.

And for tonight’s nosh, some mushroom pate, that I plan to go on a Sourdough baguette and small cobs, with sliced sea-salted tomatoes, with beetroot and garden peas. Which I set about making. Baguettes and cobs in the oven. I got the other stuff on the plate ready.

When the loaves were cooked, you would have had a right laugh if you could have seen me trying to slice the cobs! The fingers neurotransmitters failed. And combined with the impaired amplitude of Saccades Sandra, within minutes of removing the loaves of bread to the tray for slicing; I had a kitchen floor liberally showered with breadcrumbs. The crumbs were joined by the bottle of Caramelised onion chutney, which left hundreds of bits of broken glass, and I had to contend with a burnt finger from taking the baguettes out of the oven! Oh, and a cut little finger, hardly worth a mention, only a tiny nick, but it bled well. So, splattered blood on the floor, as well as on my clothes, the cooker and the tray! Hey-Ho!

The mess was sort of cleaned up, and I had difficulty in standing up on my feet again after the on-the-knees washing the floor, and glass removal session. I got the meal eaten, good job there was nothing to get cold. Tsk! This what should have been a simple to create feast, but it wasn’t for me, was good enough for a 7.5/10 flavour rating, all the same.

I’d had a lot of patience and kindness shown me today. Off course this had to be tempered with being bashed about at Aldi. Hahaha!

Washed the pots. Found some missed bits of crumbs, did nothing about them. Then I had a look at what was on offer on the TV. Channel 48, Sony, had non-stop episodes of the Persuaders on. That’ll do me I thought and got it up on the set.

For the first four episodes shown, I woke up on average once each! I gave up. Zzzz!

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