Inchcock Today: Thursday 4th August 2022

Starting with this Humorous Ode
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Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Last night I slept early, getting up around 12:40hrs, and got on with the day’s work. I’m nothing if dedicated.
After yesterday’s three false alarms, I was unsure of having a successful mission. However, the evacuation flowed in contact with the plastic throneand kept coming; at one stage, I thought my body might float into the air. Hehe! I’d passed that much. And comfortably, pain-free without any bleeding! A total reversal, I suspect that the different veggie burgers I had for dinner may have played a part in this scenario.

This photo I took of the plates and pins and forgot to put on yesterday’s blog. It could happen to anyone, Ahem! Don’t they look good? This and the excellent BP lately are worrying; I’m not used to this.

I had a wash and sorted out the waste bins. Got a cold drink from the fridge, finished yesterday’s blog, and posted it off to WordPress.

I made up the dry-humoured Ode to use and spent hours trying to sort out whatever I’d done wrong on Corel Draw, which lost me so many options. At one time, I gave up, turned it off, and got out the sphygmomanometer. 
Yet another great set of figures this morning. And I was only just inside the red zone. Amazes me how the BP has been so good this last month.
I tried CorelDraw again, and I lost the saved template. More time lost, searching without much hope… But, I found, retitled it to the original name, and all was well again. I thought

I’ve got a Morrison via Amazon order coming later shortly now. But will Carer Richard come late enough so he can have his Mushroom Pete treat? Will the delivery come in time? – Will they have any in stock? – Will they send crap substitutes? Can I freeze a fresh mushroom pate for Richard to have the following Monday? Did I remember to order some? What day is it?…

The wee-wees have eased off. The rear-end found new life. My legs, ankle ulcer and feet are looking virtually perfect. No Harold Haemorrhoid or Fungal Lesion bleeding. No stubbed toe, walking into anything, & no battle with Sock-Glide-Glenda (I didn’t put any socks on). 

Arrived when and we were both a little down, I think. What bit of chinwagging we got was not the most cheerful. And Richard broke his own record for the fastest visit today. He was soon off in haste, but still the pleasant chap he is.

I turned off the computer to ensure that when the Morrison Amazon delivery arrived, I could be in the kitchen with the door open and hear when the weak, timid, pathetic chime from the intercom was heard. When the intercom chimed out, I was taking the opportunity to titivate the mess on the draining board.
A beautiful young lady came to the door and handed me each bag I put in the hallway. She already had my address, Hehe! Took my date of birth.
I thanked her and set about taking each bag through to the kitchenette. Poor old thing! I know I’m getting old, senile and past it. It shook me that I needed a few minutes to rest after taking the bags through the hallway.
The frozen item was the Meatless Farm Burgers, as well; there’s not much free room in the freezer.
Got what might be the last of pod peas, they are near the end of the season now, and it shows.
The fridge, on the other hand (not that I actually had a fridge on the other hand), had a lot of fodder that had to be jungled and jiggled to make room to get the stuff in there. These included some Strawberries, one for the Wardens, and Carer Valerie’s weekly treat.
Bananas, and my favourite veg seasoning, Oxo. These cubes have a fantastic flavour with them. I got some rice in, as it has already shot up in price, and a lady on the TV last night said to expect a lot more increases.
I put the warden’s weekly flower treat in the hallway; it’s cooler in there and rang to say they could be collected anytime. And if the DVT nurse comes early, I’ll bring them down to the office for them.

I must remember to ask Deana if the lift for the Diabetes session is sorted cause with Nathanial staying late to go over my missed meeting course, I will not know when I will be leaving. So will have to get a tram to Nottingham, a bus to Sherwood, and another bus up to the flats on that Friday. Fingers crossed that the ailments give me a break, which they are doing now… but they’ll be back! Haha!

Minutes after typing the above, the wet warm glow started in the lower regions. Why did I have to open my mouth? At least today, I can patch things up with the invaluable help of the shower before medicating. I always dread this happening when I’m out and about. Pure luck that it doesn’t happen too often… come to think of it, I’m not out usually anyway.

I’ll turn everything off computer-wise now and get the ablutionalisationing done and medicating certain areas in need. Back in a while…

“Lambasting-to-Self: Oh, No, you great fool, the DVT nurse and Deana are coming, aren’t they, dumbo!… I wish you’d get it together… Idiot! You know you can’t hear the telephone, intercom or even the door chime when you’re in the shower… Pillock!”
Dementia Doreen dashes your plans! Did you see that? The vaguest iota of contentment or thought that things might about to be going well, and what happens?

11:10hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; 3 stops away; I’d nearly forgotten about this delivery coming as well! Tsk! All that hassle getting the shower repaired, and now I still can’t get a shower! Or much sleep, either.

Took these photographicalisations of magnificent puffer clouds on display. A tremendous deep shade of blue?

11:39hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; Still 3 stops away.

Got some chips in the oven, chip sarnies for a snack? Cooked it, took a photo of it (and it didn’t get on the SD card?), ate it (the chip sarnies), and fell asleep.

Zzz!
Amazon Red Leicester delivery arrived. I put them away.
Zzz!
Esther called to see how things were, off on holiday. Wished her all the bestest.
Zzz!
Wardens Dean and Julie arrived. To do the yearly fact updates, we did them, and I mentioned the lift to the Diabetes at Bulwell. The leading man, Nathanial, is staying behind on this session to help me catch up with the one I missed, thanks to Meridian Care lot not letting me know they had failed to arrange a lift for me after saying to me; “We’re sorting it, no need to worry!” Deana phoned the transport people and arranged for a ride for the Friday 12th, 2nd session. I had to join something, and Deana sorted it all for me on the phone. Lovely, ♥! Deana also gave a note with the relevant numbers on it… But can I find it? NO! But I did remember to provide them with their weekly treats, flowers, and strawberries. Searched for hours for the note… maybe she didn’t give me one, or… I’m getting muddled again. I emailed her the list of the meetings and mentioned the mystery note… I am a fool!
Zzz!
. Arrived, I was well deep into sleep again, a rude awakening. Haha! Got the medications sorted out for me. Treated to a choice of plonk/nibbles. Off he went, not taking the waste bags to the chute. Cause I didn’t remind him. However, I had all the waste made from the other deliveries to sort, so I got on with them and took them all to the waste chute.

Cathleen’s Cartilage was playing up after I twisted the knee getting into the chute room. Pain level, only 4/10. Easily bearable.

Onto the computer and sent the list of sessions to Warden Deana. Updated this blog up to here. Then started the template for Fridays.

I nipped into the wet room to check that the shower was not leaking again, and…
Gave myself a good toe stubbing against the dreaded, fearsome Sock-Glide-Glenda. Catching the ankle ulcer at the same time. When I took this photo, later on, the end of the toes of the affected foot was white, and the rest of the foot was glowing red; the leg above was ghostly white?

Just another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. I just laughed it off, of course.

I got this blog finished. I’ll post it in the morning.

It’s been a busy day. But getting help from Deana, and Ethel checking on how I was going, meant so much to me. Bless ’em! ♥

Inchcock Today: Fri 29th July 2022

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Having woken up with the carer hovering over me, lovely gal, I could not get back to sleep afterwards. Clumpnangles! So I got the Thursday blog finished and posted off. Now it is about 01:45hrs, and I’ve got an Iceland order coming in the morning… Will I wake up to hear the intercom? No chance of hearing it if I’m asleep… Oh, dear… Ah well, better try to get the head down again! No, not yet… I’ll get the Blood Pressure done now; save time in the morning! Does that make sense? I booted up the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China. SIA 150, DIA 63 and the Pulse at an agreeable 80.
Then the body temperature was taken with the contactless machine. Oh yes, another good figure recorded. I put the figures on the NHS DVT site.
Botherations!
or Cataract Cathy, maybe both of them, made me put in the wrong figure for the pulse, 60 instead of 80. And now it’s gone to the monitoring station. I’m gonna look fool again! Mind you that comes easy to me, being a fool. I’ll ring them later in the morning, maybe send an email pointing out my cock-up. Worded differently, though. Tsk! 

♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed out, and I realised I had not unlocked the door, so made my way, rather easily actually, barely hobbling to the door and opening it… noticed that I had not got any trousers on! I hid behind the door and told Carer Valerie of my predicament. Grabbed a towel from the airer to cover my privates (although a postage stamp would have sufficed) and went into the junk room to get some trousers on. I think I heard Valerie saying, “That’s alright, don’t worry, I’ll wait here…” 
Fumbling to get the trews on as quickly as possible; resulted in a stubbed toe and bruised shoulder. Tsk! Valerie got the medications sorted out,  and gave me a minute or two chinwagging, Bless her. She didn’t fancy a nibble or drink this morning. Thanked her and apologised for the lack of clothing, and started to explain about it and she was sympathetic I think, telling me again ‘Not to worry’♥

Back on the computer getting the blog start prepped for an hour or so, and out burst ♫ Oh, Susana ♫. It was the Iceland delivery. When I got the door open, the bags had been left handily for me to gag them in. Fair do’s to the lad, when he saw my stick and me limping, (stubbed toe the cause) he asked it I wanted him o put them through the door for me. But the lad had kept the good all neat, and I could see nothing crushed or any leaks, and he arrived on time and thought I’d best not delay him after he’s made the effort, so I replied, “No thanks, I can get them in one at a time, cheers!”
I regretted saying that afterwards. Hehehe! I banged my shoulder again, starting off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley this time as I got the bags into the kitchenette and the beer into the junk room. With the massive increases in the cost of the G&T’s etc., I thought I’d tempt them with the Heineken lager instead.
Iceland sent all the bread ordered today. Silly me was sure there were going to be unavailable, as there normally is… But no, not today. So I had a heck of a job, reshuffling the freezer contents to make room to get all the cobs and bread in it. At least I won’t run out of bread for a while. Haha!
I’d only got two frozen items ordered. One pot of my favourite No-Moo ice cream and some No-Meat mushroom steaks to try. They were not cheap. I had to take them out of the box to get them into the fridge, and that the box they came in; could have been half the size it was, and there would still have been room in it for the miniature-sized diddly mushroom steaks. I just hope that they are tasty enough to be worth it!
Getting the fresh stuff in the fridge was even more difficult to achieve. As you can see on the right here, there was not a lot of spare room left spare!

I did manage to put a couple of the bottles in there in case the Carer of the day or evening fancies a cold lager.

I assembled all the rubbish and mess that I’d made during the food delivery and the sorting it out.

As I got out of the door into the three flats foyer, the noise from nowhere and everywhere was going off. It sounded the same as it the other day, and confusing it was! To me, it sounded like a machine running, like s giant sewing machine. To Josie, it sounded like a drilling noise. And if both Josie and I can hear it, it must be loud. Neighbour Malcolm gave a different thought; he said it was like rushing water.
I got to the. I got into the lift lobby to go to the waste chute room at the far end, and I swear it was louder than ever.
All a part and parcel of the mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!
I got back in the flat and had a wee-wee; I’ve not mentioned them yet, but they were regular if short ones.

I had a wash, and I checked out the ankle and legs. Apart from a little bloating on the right foot, they were so much better than yesterday. Which made a nice change.

On the computer, I made a start on the Local News Snippet blog, then started this one going. Again, the time has vanished; it’s 13:00hrs already? I thought I ought to get on the WordPress Reader to catch up on others’ blogs posted. So, I did!

He’s of again, bang, thud, clang. Tap-tapping. I wouldn’t be the same living here if wasn’t up there above me, with his mechanical operas keeping me company.
Got the new spuds in the saucepan. Then quartered some large mushrooms, seasoned them and got them going in the crock pot. I seemed to be doing well and considered going into a Smug-Mode.

Buy, my EQ warned me against doing so, so I didn’t. Seconds later, I found out why…

Getting the tomatoes out of the fridge, and at just the wrong moment, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley ensured the tomatoes ended up on the floor. As I moved to try to catch some, I trod on one! so…

I only went down on one knee this time, but it was Cartilage Kathy’s right one, and ever since, she’s been showing her displeasure at my actions, in the form of stinging a fair bit when I move, stand up, or bend the knee. Hey-Ho! I rubbed in a load of Phorpain Gel.

Got down in the c1962 recliner, and I kept a keen eye on the timing for the fodder cooking. Most importantly… and the difficult bit in staying awake! But I managed it and was soon getting the nosh served up and cleaning the mess I’d made. It’s becoming a habit lately, making messes and having Accifauxpas when cooking?)
The meal on the tray balanced dangerously on the folds on my stomach flab. Everything on display looked divinely appealing. Apart from the first time tried, No-Lamb lamb steaks had been tried before, and nothing let me down. The expensive No-Lamb Lamb steaks were okay. But not worth the money. They were not as good as the No-Meat Burgers  I usually have. But Iceland doesn’t even have them on the list for sale now; I hope they get some more in soon. Humph! Anyway, I gave this pone a Taste-Rating of 9.2/10!

I put the tray on the carers table and promptly drifted off into a much-needed sleep… But not for long; half an hour later, the ♫ Oh, Susan ♫ tune awakened me with a shock!
Joseph arrived. At least I had some trousers on. No top clothing, though; I think the grossness of my blubbery stomach shook him a bit. Hahaha! Poor lad. Got the meds sorted, and I offered Joseph a drink or nibble in thanks, and he refused them – that’s Valerie then Joe? Wished him a good evening as he departed with the waste bag for the bin. (I remembered to ask him to take the bag tonight) I locked the door and climbed back into the recliner to get back to sleep.
A futile effort in my gaining any time with Sweet Morpheus. I lay there, well, getting up a few times for a wee-wee, for an hour or two, then got up and back on the computer to update this blog and then lay out the Snippets one. Did the Ode below and got it on. Then posted it off to WordPress.

I made so many mistakes in getting this ode from CorelDraw into this blog that I got the first verses out of sync. But it’s now 00:45hrs, and am so tired. Luckily this ode is so bad, that you may not notice. Hehehe!

Inchcock Today: Diary & Ode

AND THE HOSPITAL VISIT

Friday 15th July 2022

Not in too much detail early one. I fear time was against me today, getting things sorted out for the trip to the EENT Hospital in the morning.

My first thought was I wanted to go back to sleep and had an extreme disinterest in getting up. But a wet warm sensation from the rear end encouraged me to clamber out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and off to the wet room tp check things out. En route further enlivened me. I messed and Pottered about getting confused and self-hassled. I stirred back into imitation life around 05:50hrs.

True to his promise, Carer Richard arrived dead on 06:00hrs. He was pleased that I knew which day it was. I remembered what it was that Jillie asked me to ask Richard!
The Blood Pressure’s SIA caught me out at 166. The DIA at 98, both too high that by a fair bit. However, the pulse and body temperatures were honky-dory! I entered the figures into the NHS site to see what they make of it. Oh, I see; this was the result. Not a good start, methinks. You know, it’ll be back down in the morning. Or not, of course, there is always that possibility. Let’s face it, with my record, anything is possible. (As I hope you’ll read about later, when I was in the ambulance, Hehehe!) It was a humorous yet embarrassing incident that failed to bring any laughter to the ambulance man & woman, but things were not going well for them.

I made a start on this blog; to get as far as I could with it, just in case the operation was done and I’d incapacitated by blindness (It wasn’t done as it happens, but more about that later).
Of course, the wee-wees started coming, weak sprinkly affairs, but each one was leaking before its time! So, on the third or fourth burst, I decided to get the ablutions done and replace the PPs with thicker, more efficient Tena ones. Even if they do stick out a little prominently under the trouser’s rear-end. I also stopped drinking any more spring water; I feared all the immanent waiting about at the hospital may produce leakages! Hehe!
On with the scrubbing-up, I ventured. As you can see, there were a couple of nicks while shaving. One on the cheek, the other on the left ear-hole tab-hole. Nowt serious, though. I missed cleaning the teggies altogether – no idea why; Dementia Doreen I should blame. Then some niftily quick, which brought out more bleeding; From Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I had no trips or walking into anything or tumbles.

Still no sign of transport, and it’s getting late. So, as the beautiful morning view of the skies caught my eye, I thought I’d take a couple of shots of it with the Canon camera. I did as soon as I found out where I’d put the camera for the trip to the hospital. It took some finding, and as for the sunglasses, it’s evening now, and I still haven’t found them! Hehehe! I took another shot below, showing the parked cars on Chestnut Way. An incredible view, which I am pleased to have here at the flats. Strange that all the red vehicles seem to be avoiding this part of the site’s parking zones today? Haha! Whites, grey and blacks only? There’ll be a reason for this. I suppose. I made sure all the stuff was saved, and I shut down the computer. Then sat on a chair near the door so I didn’t miss the intercom if it rang… clever stuff, I thought? Well, for me! It’s set on the highest level available, but many folks have said they cannot hear it, so I’m not on my own. A clever move there on behalf of the Nottingham City Homes planners, ensuring that it is suitable for a block of flats with 70, 80, and 90+-year-olds living in it. Similar to the finger-strapping metal spring clips on the end balcony windows… Oh, and balcony slide doors, apart from the few that have fallen off the runners when used. Not only mine but others too. And they are cumbersome, too, I can assure you. Any injuries have been well hidden. You can see my mind wandering while waiting for the lift. Hehe!

Aha, the intercom buzzed. I’d everything ready so as not to keep them waiting. A dingle crewed chap, who told he was pleased I was all-prepared; because he’d been running late all morning. We picked up an elderly lady in Woodthorpe en route. We tried to have a natter in the back of the ambulance, but we struggled with hearing each other. Pleasant lady, going to the same place, EENT, I think.

I realised when I ferreted through my pockets and trolley that my plans had not gone to plan. I assume the sunglasses, bobble hat, and wristwatch were still on the Carer’s table back at the flat.

We were soon at the QMC EENT unit. The driver took me in first, explaining to the lady that on his own, he can only take in one person at a time. I bade farewell to the lady, wishing her all the best, and hobbled into the integral unit, led by the driver. Who ascertained that I had to go through to another block. Luckily he was still behind me when I got lost, and he corrected me, with a wry smile on his face, to the suitable unit. Haha! Where I waited to be seen.

A lady called out my name, and she took me through to yet another place, where I waited again. Minutes later, another lady fetched me and took me to her treatment room. Oh, yes, ladies are desperate for me! This happens all the time, you know…

I found out that the paperwork was wrong, and today was not as it said; Not the operation, but more assessments and tests on the eyes. All of which I had on my last appointment? Fair enough, there were many different eye tests, intending to make the plastic cornea a different size to match my misshaped one, which may prove too difficult, making the operation impossible. Well, that cheered me up, no-end! An hour or so after getting the tests and questions, the kind lady walked me back to the correct reception, and she told the lady I needed transporting. (She didn’t say where to, Pluto perhaps? Hahaha!.

ODE TO THE WAIT

I got seated and began the marathon wait for transport,
It wasn’t a quick wait… not short,
But I made up a game for fun and sport…
Counting patients, who arrived after me, made me haught…
Who went before me, making me fraught…

The place cleared; have they forgotten about me, I feared?
After three hours, I felt a bit weird…
I’m not brave, a stalwart, but a worrywart,
No one around to ask or to talk…
Nothing occurring to which I could claught…
Any hopes of a lift of any sort,
Four hours later, relief from worry was bought,
Two medics arrived for me; I was overwrought,
To the ambulance, I did cavort,
But pleasure in it, that I can report…
Getting home left me despondent and taut!

Inside the ambulance was a stretcher. The male of the pair of medics said: We’ve got to collect someone else from the gynaecology Wing over the road. I waited so long that it didn’t bother me. The stretcher was unfastened, and off they went to collect their patient.
I thought it a good idea to phone Jillie on my mobile while on my own. So, I did! To tell her to thank you, my honeypot, but the operation wasn’t done, so no need for your kind offer of coming to stay with me, as I can still see.
  Things didn’t pan out as I had wished. I got through to Jillie, and damned Peripheral Pete gave me an Involuntary right-leg Idiopathic Schuhplattler drop-something and flail-about dance routine! Despite my having had the seatbelt buckled, I managed somehow to end up on the floor of the ambulance. I fumbled my way back into the seat and slid the belt back on before the medics got back, which was ten minutes late, with a young lady on the stretcher. As they wheeled her into the ambulance, and she padded me on the right side, I gave her a welcoming smile and unintentional wink from the bad eye. Thankfully she gave me such a sweet smile back… then! Bless her! I think it was her appreciation for someone smiling and talking to her, not at her.

The crew could not get the stretcher holder mechanism to reset or lock. Well, that’s all they seemed interested in as they repeatedly banged and pushed the trolley into the mechanism. I swear they never thought about the patient getting knocked all over as they did it. I asked the lady if she was alright and got dirty looks from Mork & Mindy for it. This made a temporary bond between the gal and me, I think.

The crew spoke to we patients, which was not often apart from talking between themselves. ‘We’ll have to get help cause we can’t get the stretcher to lock’ (You don’t say?) One of them fetched another paramedic who arrived to have a look, and he clicked it in the first time! Much to my and the lady’s relief! We tried to chat on the way, but hearing her was difficult with the engine and traffic noise, but she seemed to be feeling better.

They dropped me off after a cock-up that may have been mine, I’m not sure. I mentioned when they were looking for which block I live in, the end one. Then proceeded to explain why they could get confused, Winchester Court, Winwood Court, and Woodthorpe Court; all three are called Windwood Heights. Then the female told the driver to go back. He lives in Winwood! Which he did. I had to embarrassingly (if I had told them wrongly). That he was right, I do live at the end one… Oh, dear, if looks could kill, I’d have been a goner!

I wished the lady on the stretcher well. And gladly told the driver I could manage from here, with a weak ‘Thanks’ added. And turned to wave at the lady, I don’t know if she could see me, but I wanted to. Hope she got home without any more hassle, Bless her cotton socks! ♥

Home Sweet Home! The hat and sunglasses were where I thought I’d left them. I only noticed them glancingly in my haste to avoid any embarrassment on my way to the wee-wee room. I failed! So a good start to my evening’s plans! I had a good clean-up, and I got some fresh PPs on. The Tena ones I was wearing had done a good reliable job in the containment stakes.

Made a brew and got the computer on to do this blog. And the landline burst forth. It was the Deep Vein Thrombosis Clinic nurse, wanting to know if the following Monday would be alright for them to call to take the blood test. Hah! I had to tell her that it was the Cataract appointment day. She will ring me back the day before she comes. Thinking about it afterwards, it might prove problematic if she is going to call Tuesday, wonnit? Just my luck!

The sunshine was still bright. I took a shot through the balcony windows. bootiful sky again!

Joe the Carer arrived, and I started to tell him about the farcical day. But, to avoid him falling to sleep, I cut it short. Hehehe! Gave him a cold bottle of Coots from the fridge, which he appreciated.
A long hard slog of blogging ensued.
Around five hours or so, I did stop for the occasional wee-wee. Several in fact, it’s a miracle I got through all that time at the hospital without needing one – another mystery of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock, to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Crafty that! Cunningly this time, using a bit of good luck for me thrown in the mix.
Veggie burgers (The last, I hope to get some on the next Morrison order, as Iceland were out of stock, Humph!) Tomatoes, garden peas, beetroot, gherkins, and that’s yer lot! A late, late supper instead of a dinner.

Belated food, then bed, and prayer that the day’s events don’t kick off a thought-storming session and stop me sleeping – PLEASE!

Oh, I’d better get this posted first, Tsk! TTFN!

Inchcock’s Thought Storms

Introduction

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit…

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

Inchy’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have to the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

But is losing the battle; thus, he is about ready for his crypt.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

His odes, in many ways, are like a zit; yes, I meant zit,

An unwanted ailment, you have to squash it…

Full of pus, staph bacteria, that hurts a bit,

Lost words, replaced with whatchamacallits,

Rhyming is so bad that it can ruin friendships,

Dementia Doreen causing so many errors and blips,

He’s not educated, so he struggles at penmanship…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Now lost his logicality, of which he once had a firm grip!

He dreams of his brain being men mended, maybe, reequipped.

Mental power, dreams, and memory have into the ether slipped…

He tries to battle against Doreen, for long he has schlepped…

 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

But is losing the battle, thus ready for his crypt

But the business went bust,

And I started to lust…

For a gal with a big bust…

 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’m prepared, but not too keen, on my upcoming sepulchre,

To be honest, I don’t see it fits into human culture…

Well, I used to be sociable, in fact, I was a campanologer,

Waking folks up Sunday morning… was my main pleasure,

Which I took my time with because it was a pleasure!

 The locals warned me off, bellringing, with a fervour,

So, to avoid a pasting, my bell rang no more…

Anyway, it hurt my arms, then I got a shoulder fracture…

So, I bought a barrow, and became a costermonger,

Giving me so much time watching the sky and pareidolia!?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Mood Update:

While struggling to get the preceding crap ode done, I got increasingly confused. I may have just posted bits of a Snippet ode wot I did in between today’s efforts. I have to write this stuff on Word, and then I get a spell checker. Then cut and paste into Blogger, where the colour and font size usually changes, and I have to go through it all again, ever correcting! I got a little depressed with things, life etc… I gave up and transferred it to WordPress. It’s a true-life farcicalness with Doreen Dementia!

However, I had a bit of good fortune in taking a tumble while making a brew of Thompson Punjana tea. Cracking my left knee on a cabinet corner as I went down. Everything seemed to change then, outlook and contentment-wise.

 I suddenly gleaned a previously unthought series of thoughts:

Why am I worrying? The end is nigh, and whatever I do, the Doctor will not accept Doreen Dementia’s existence, so there is no chance in hell of getting any help. ‘Fact!’

As much as I miss my daily hobbles, walking to the shops, and in the tree copse. I no longer have the ability to take them. ‘Fact’ You’ll just have to accept the inevitable, Chambers!

Walking into things may get less after I’ve had the eyes done. No point in fretting over it, the right eye cataract will take time to work, but there is a good chance I will again be able to do crosswords (not that I was any good at them, Hehe!), Not fret over the other eye being done afterwards. It’ll take a long time ‘Fact’.

Should I snuff it before they are done well? Would it matter? Apart from an unknown to me, a battle to get at my valuables from sudden relatives who care… I shall not be around to see it, and I can’t take them with me, (Or, can I?). So, good luck to them. ‘Fact!’

I tried thinking about happier times… that was not easy. Hehe! But Suzanne Jean Percival came to mind first and foremost, and they really were genuine happy memories. ‘Fact!’

That made me feel worse when I realised my current position… So quiet here today, even the noisy standoffish, antisocial, smarmy, reticent, toploftical git in the flat above was not making any noise! Loneliness is something that rarely affects me, but it did then. No one visiting. No phone calls, text messages… a sense of isolation. ‘Fact!’

After I’d cleared up the mess in the kitchen and Phorpain gelled the knee, I made another brew, of Glengettie tea this time, the mood rose… without any reason, nothing had changed, yet suddenly I was ashamed of myself – and self-loathing at my pathetic self-pitying took over.‘ Fact!’

There are so many others in a worse state than I am. Somehow, although it didn’t cheer me up, my acceptance of things grew. 

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So I got on with this blog’s making.

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

LATE THOUGHT-STORMS!

As a young man, I thought I was a brainiac…
But that was sixty-odd years ago, way back,
I’ve been through periods of wine and Prozac,
Lived in a tent, then moved up to a wooden shack…
Cost of livings to high got to cut back!

I used to believe in Old Moore’s Almanac!
Bought a Robin Reliant, but I wanted a Cadillac…
That had to go because I got the sack,
Others had briefcases, me? A haversack!
I’ve never won the lottery, Monopoly, or blackjack…
Amazon, Facebook, eBay my computer track,
Maybe it’s because I’m a senile maniac?

TTFNski!

Inchcock Diary: Yesterday & Today

Inchcock Yesterday & Today Diary

Due to Doreen’s Dementia, my excellent ability to forget things and get more confused daily, my ailments, the computer card reader, and CorelDraw difficulties, I’m mentally in a state.

Not to mention Liberty-Global Virgin Media Internet persistent going down. (Oh, I did say it!)

So this will not be as visually appealing as usual. And most likely, with happenings out of sync with each other and scarcity of photographs on offer. Also, my terrible memory-aid scribblings/writings on the notepad are somewhat unreadable. Messy, rushed… Tsk! Here I go…

MONDAY

Up at 04:00hrs: First sentence on pad undecipherable with these cataract eyes. Tried to upload photos, but no go. Wee-wee, a mug of tea… (Another unreadable few lines). Blogging, terrible internet connection again as Sunday was. Four hours to update the first part of the blog for Saturday & Sunday. Wee-wee.

Then Carer Richard arrived. Lifeline check. (Illegible) Wash and medicationalisationing. Stubbed toe.

Tea, another wee-wee. Got the ode finished at last. WP comments. WP Reader, Emailed blog link and Picts, then did Facebooking.

Tried to get photos on but failed again. But not surprising as Liberty-Global Virgin Media kept dying on and off!

Made a start on the News snippets blog. (Notes were as clear as mud)

Herbert started tapping and knocking with the odd crashing noises thrown in with all the problems.

I phoned Deana about the TV licence text. (Unfathomable writing for two paragraphs, Huh!) I hope she will call tomorrow to pick up the money.

CorelDraw problems. Josie returned the tray from Sunday, she did say she enjoyed the meal but did not mention the Woo-Woo, so it’s back to G&T for her next week. Hehe!

The Idaho pot potatoes were delivered. Late now. What to have for nosh later… couldn’t decide but I fancy trying one of the potatoes? Stored them with the others and noodles.

Back on the blogging, and…

(More indistinct squawl on the notepad). Net came back on, and I tried blogging again… so slow, I gave up.

Carer Valerie arrived. We got the medications taken and had a minute or so natter.

I made this odd-looking meal. A pot of noodles, a pot of potatoes and a cake. First time I’ve tried these pot spuds. They claim to have vegetarian sausage and gravy in them. Gravy? I could see nor taste any… not that I was bothered, cause they still tasted great to me! Flavour Rating: 6.8/10.

Head down, and was soon off in the arms of Sweet Morpheus, a nice change!

TUESDAY

A better night this time. Only woke up about five times and felt better than usual when I did!

I stirred back into ersatz life around bout 06:15hrs. Not feeling as bad as I usually do. Of course, I’d have at least six hours kip, which was why I felt perkier, I imagine? As I rose, I took this snap through the balcony window of the bottom field on Woodthorpe Grange Park.

Had a wee-wee. Maybe a cystitis infection, mayhaps. Regrettably, it was still reluctant and just a smidge painful, needing an effort on my behalf to force things along. But no problem with how I felt, which was livelier than for a while.

I checked the taps and heating as I went to get the kettle on. Made up a waste bag, and I was off to the wet room.

Got the Blood Pressure machine, the sphygmomanometer as its clever name is. Hehe!

SYS was a little high, 157, and DIA at 67. But the pulse seemed okay.

The NHS graph said it was only in the High zone, so it’s nowt new there. My Chinese (Hong Kong) by Shenzhen Relee Electronic & Technology Co. Ltd™, a contactless thermometer, gave a satisfactory result at 34.8°c.

What a great session that was! Did the nasals and eye drops. Some of the drops actually got into the eyes! Hehe! Cleaned the teggies. Then got in the shower… a potential high-risk area for me. But, no bother this morning! No dizzies, no banging into anything! No toe stubbing! No bleeding from shaving either!!! 

This may be hard for anyone to believe… but I assure you it is true.

I got the socks on via the deadly, injury-causing Sock-Glide-Glenda – only one tiny knick on the thumb… no bleeding, no bruising either!

So, no cuts, shaving, no falls, toe-stubbing… I felt that good; I could have crushed a grape!

I got fully dressed (Including trousers!) I’d just started on the computer, and Richard arrived very late. The lad looked done in, but he didn’t complain, nor did I. He sorted out the tablets first. Had a mini-natter, took his freebies on my insistence and shot off with my best wishes and thanks for being given him. Oh, and instructions to get himself to bed ASAP!

I made a brew of JS Extra Strong Tea and sorted the laundry out for when Esther comes. Back on the computer. But stopped when it went down yet again.

I took a snap of the end of Chestnut Way car park. Red Van Man is his usual, technically, illegal parking space on the chevrons; Little Red Car driver nearly got it right, as did Light-Blue Car Driver. I think Grey Car Driver got fed up with trying?

Then, the Iceland man cometh – with the order I was convinced was due on Thursday, but it wasn’t. This goes to show how convincing and positive Doreen’s Dementia can be! Tsk!

Iceland had sent the wrong potatoes, but that is nothing not done many times before. The brown rolls were squashed flat. The Guatemalan sugar snap peas had a few mouldy ones in the packet, but were two days in date? The box of lemon treats was also crushed. So, all normal, then!

The strawberries were okay. I got the things put away, bread in the freezer, cobs and other bits in the cupboards so I can forget where I put them into the fridge for most things this afternoon. Then I set about sorting the freebie nibbles. I got a good few cans of various plonks in, the special price ones, mostly. Laid them out on the top of the bookcase so they can help themselves to which they may fancy.

Then, the potatoes were ready to be morphed into cheesy baked potatoes. (This did not happen due to my being so worn out when it came to noshing time).

Esther arrived to do the washing. Had a chat of sorts as she got the stuff ready to go. The gal tends to talk when looking and walking away from me, and I miss a lot of what she says. Bless her.

I rang Deana to ask if she was coming to collect the money for the TV licence and mentioned the non-arrival of the door key replacement. She hopes to collect the money with ‘The Lady’? On Wednesday, she’ll check on the critical door key supply situation.

The Herbert symphony of tapping, clanging and buzzing kicked off. Only got a couple of hours. After that, it mainly was thudding as if something was being dropped on the floor.

Wash and medicating certain areas next. Little Inchies fungal lesion was the most painful, but it usually is. Argh!

Food! Tomatoes and two veg burgers in wholemeal cobs. I baked some of the small potatoes and halved them. I put some Ben’s Hickory Smoked Barbecue sauce in a small pot for dunking. A honey yoghourt followed. Taste: 7.6/10!

Put the wholly emptied food tray to one side and drifted off into a deep sleep. I’m sure I dreamed of something, but I can only remember it being enjoyable; I think Jillie was in there. And  ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ chimed from the doorbell. It was Carer Valerie. Nice to see her, but disappointed in losing whatever I was up to in my dream. Hahaha!

After giving me the tablets, Valerie offered to wash the pots for me. I thanked her but declined the offer. Insisting, she took some nibbles, which she did, and she lifted the waste bag to the chute on her way, for me.

As I was washing the pots, the sky caught my little attention, and I took a picture with the canon on auto mode. I couldn’t load it; the SD card reader wasn’t working, but I tried again in the morning. I’ll put this photo on tomorrow’s blog cause when it did load, I thought it was amazing that I saw a fox’s face in the clouds.

Another decent, relatively pain-free session! Despite the torpedo’s mammoth dimensions and firm nature, no pain and no bleeding. I even got it out within a couple of minutes. Which was a rarity for me, most copacetic!

Got changed and settled down in the £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, difficile, often crumb-covered tatty recliner. I pondered over should I try to watch some TV to help me drift off, and I turned on the telly. I was in the grasp of Sweet Morpheus within a minute! Insufflation!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series

Crowell Manor Laboratory Visit

CROWELL MANOR LABORATORY 102-Optical Solutioning

Crowell Manor Laboratories

The scientist & owner of the 46 laboratories, Billum; Master of Computational Finance, Master of Science in Teaching now retired. Has put his developments in his underground laboratories of a Time-Machine and Automatic Pickled Walnuts Slicer developments, experiments and creation on hold, all in the name of empathy and care of blogger Inchcock. Why? I’ll tell yer…

Billum invited Inchcock to come to his scientifically outstanding latest additional laboratory, dedicated to Medicationalistical ailments in the elderly. Having read the news about the Nottingham pensioner was having with his Cataracts, Glaucoma and Saccades in the sad old twits blog. He’s got plenty of his own, yet magnanimously and with great beneficence, Billum offered Inchcock to visit and “Have your Eyes Checked” in Laboratory 102, dedicated to Optical Solutioning! A marvellous offer and gesture, which the old Nottinghamian jumped at the eleemosynary offer. (Not literally, of course, jumping awake, yes, he can and does do… I’m waffling off of topic here again; sorry!)

Someone so far away, with his own ailments to cope with, and cares for others… That’s Billum! On arrival, they fed me, washed me, and we were soon going down to Laboratory-102. A fantastic, amazingly dazzling reception area… I think that his son Alan is the one who deals with the building side of things.

Billum’s other half, HRH Lisa, came in and gave me a sexy, pulse-prompting dance routine to the sounds of 1970s music. While Billum checked on Google, I assume to refresh his memory on cataracts, glaucoma and saccades?

It seemed like no time; it does when you are enjoying yourself. Before Billum took me through to his newest Laboratory-102.

He started his examination of my eyes…

Amid so many tests, prodding, probes and the usage of, to me, unidentifiable optical machines, some that played music, others that hummed, I smelt the perfume of my beloved (but don’t tell Billum) Sweet Petal, HRH Lisa… it was tantalising and moved my loins. Or maybe the painkiller that Petal Lisa gave me caused hallucinations? It contained Codeine, CBD and Cáñamo Hashish, whatever they are, but I felt no pain; they worked a treat!

I was spoilt rotten afterwards!

ODE TO THE VISIT

They sat me on a luxurious settee,
That was warming; they were lovely…
Served biscuits and a mug of Glengettie tea,
Petal Lisa came in and sat with me…
Billum was typing his assessment, you see…
The cats jumped up on my knee,
Petal Lisa, gemtly kissed me… ♥
I realised the tests done by Billum, for free!
I asked Petal Lisa if she wanted an adoptee?
Billum came in his report in hand and calmly…
Said, “It’s’ alright, you’ve got two eyes, not three!

That sort of puzzled and confused me…
Billum gave me a large bottle of CBD…
I went to take a wee-wee…
It didn’t flow very freely…
I said I know I’ve two eyes anyway…
Billum added, rather pleasantly,
Well spotted, and sent me away!

I make these blogs for Billum and Lisa, my Petal,
Not for anything that is epithetical…
But to raise a laugh, which to me is congenital,
For Billum, Alan and my precious Lisa Angelical!
I believe a laugh is as effective as hexobarbital,

Enough of this waffle,
I need another pittle,
Usually a painful trickle…
But releasing it is vital…
But having a laugh, trying to be comical…
To me, is worthy and commonsensical!
Even in this ode, that’s pathetical!

 Part of Inchcocks Make Them Laugh Series

Inchcock Today: A Dream Remembered

Inchcock’s Tuesday Diary & Dream Recollections

I woke around 04:20hrs: With some memories of the dream still prattling about in the brain. I lunged to get the notepad and pencil from the Ottoman; and realised they were lying between my legs, and well scribbled on, too! (Somnambulistic activity?) So I added the new bits to it and left the pages to be used later in my reminiscing of the ultra-weird dream.

Off into the kitchen, no taps, stove or lights had been left on. More amazingly, Shaking Shaun was not affecting the legs again! That’s been around eighteen hours of relief, now!

I took a photo of the clear dark morning sky. And decided not to make a brew of Glengettie, 99, or even the usual refreshing Thompsons Punjana tea; this bothered me!

Something was out of sync here this morning… most likely me! Summat up here! No shaking legs, no toothache, no desire for a mug of tea, not wanting a wee-wee…

However, I maintained my earlier om waking, almost gung-ho, hey-ho outlook, and just pressed on with updating the Facebook, catching up a bit with it anyway. I was humming the door chimes’ tune to myself, not in need of a cuppa, and as I thought I was also not in need of a wee-wee… the flow started. And continued approximately every fifteen minutes and was only taking the occasional swift swig of the spring water?

As I indicated earlier, things seem discrepant, incompatible, and incongruous today. Yet I am not put out by this… at the moment.

Working on Facebook, I came across last nights photograph of my meal. This brought back to me how tasty it was for once. Fresh garden raw peas from Nicaragua, tomatoes from Holland, sausages from Poland, chips from England, and part-baked oven cobs from Ireland. American BBQ sauce. An international feast! That I gave a Taste-Rating of 8.2/10!

I went on the WordPress reader, had a wee-wee, answered some comments, took a pee, readied this blog, had a slash, and the door chime chimed out its ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune. It was the morning Carer came to sort out my medications. No messing with this gal, all done nada off in eight minutes, kindly taking the waste bags to the chute for me as she departed.

Minutes later, the ♫Oh, Susana…♫ tune chirped up again. This was the Sainsbury’s order arriving. Boy, had I ordered a lot or what? I’d got some cheapo eggs in. Ten for £1.10.

After taking in the items, I managed to get the chuckles into the fridge; first, there was only enough room, and I had to do a bit of jiggling around to get them into the fridge door.

They were mixed in sizes from diddly to small. Hehe! Not that it mattered to me. They were all a lovely deep brown colour.

I knew there was not much room in the freezer, so I only ordered some McCain flavour maker fries. Although I somehow managed to buy three packets of them… £9 spent there!

The first load of fresh stuff into the fridge were, Fresh peas and a milk roll loaf. Humph! Another cock up made, I’d obviously ordered three bags of potatoes, all of a different type.

Ready meal foods next. Five of the prepared meals; four Sausage in onion grainy and sweet potato mash, and one chilli and chips, all watchers, WW! Three packets of cooked bacon. (Guilty!)

Then the costly, naughty, wicked, and guilt-ridden things were put away. Oh, dearie me, yes! Three Lemon Cheesecakes. Mandarin pieces in orange jelly and two fresh cream eclairs… no, that should be doughnuts. Ahem! A substituted for lemon yoghourts. Lemon & Lime Possets. (Ahem!) I’ve never heard of these before, but on reading the ingredients: Double cream, whipping cream, lemon juice, lime juice, sugar, lemon zest, thickener, agar and cornflour – I realised how bad it was, and decided not to eat it, naturally.

I took the rubbish bags accrued by storing the fodder away to the rubbish chute room. Then it happened… The shaking and wobbling started again en route with the bags. Luckily I’d taken the stick with me; thus, I avoided having an Accifauxpa and tumble!

I can’t say the same thing for inside the chute room. Tsk! Nowt too lousy mind, just a trapped finger and back-Pain Brenda kicked off after I knocked the stick over and bent down to retrieve it. I’ve had a lot worse.

I got back in the flat and decided that if things were getting back to normal with the ailments, I’d take an extra painkiller now, have another wee-wee, and get the kitchen floor cleaned while I was still capable. So, I did!

BPB was not too happy with me, but she could have been a lot worse. Arthur Itis was almost nonexistent as I treadmilled mop bucket spinner. I did manage a toe-stubbing in the process, but only a mild effort, so I pressed on with the job, even humming a tune to myself?

Until I emptied the bucket down the lavatory; I gave myself a really good toe-stubbing then! It made me wince a little, and I just may have used a naughty word or two… perhaps, maybe.

That was bad enough, but then I dropped the bucket and got covered in the sweet smell of lemon disinfectanted but dirty water! I hit my knee with the mop stay and generally sank down from my previously almost cheerful state to a genuinely pissed-off with myself semi-depressed!

I was even angry with myself! I may well have growled and questioned my parentage! I’d gone from being practically flippant and almost uncaring, not concerned, to a deep depression instantly! My world had been turned on its head. I knew it had to happen! Back to the lucky bugger I am, that things being almost semi-content, just couldn’t last, and I knew it. Thinking this actually helped me to perk back up a smidgeon.

Go me and the place cleaned up, had a wee-wee, and got on the computer to start this blog. After five minutes, I was back at the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling). That needed shaking and wiping – and…

The door chime chimed again; I had to pack things away swiftly, as I saw a shadow had let itself in along the corridor, and I did not want to make whoever it was to laugh by displaying Little Inchy.

Esther, the cleaning lady, came in. Unfortunately, in my rush and haste to get Little Inchy undercover, his Fungal Lesion started bleeding! I couldn’t just leave her and get it medicated, but I don’t think she noticed anything she shouldn’t have. So, I had to grin and bear it.

The gal got straight on with gathering and taking the laundry for me. Esther returned after I’d cleaned and medicated Little Inchies problem. Now I had a little more pain to put up with!

But I coped well enough, back to the usual style of semi-coping and mild agony. Haha!

When Esther returned, I got the new ironing board unwrapped, and the gal got using it quickly. I was amazed at how fast she was doing the ironing for the first time on the new board.

She hung up the clothes in the hallway for me; bless her! After that, I got the chair covers back on and started to feel more my usual self.

Laundry down for me; bless her. A lot of what she said, a little too fast for me, and when I asked her what she said, the volume was too high, and her speed was the same. I hope I’ve not missed anything that was important? I thanked her, and she shot off. She’s a kind thing. ♥

So, I decided to get a mug of tea at last; as I stood up, shoeless, I trod on something hard, sharp and tiny. Can you believe it… I can, Hehehe! It was yet another escaped, dried like granite garden pea! How the heck do I not see or find them earlier? I’ve hoovered the carpet near the computer several times last and once this, and still, it gets missed! It must have been fled weeks ago, to be that hard? Ah, well!

It’s getting dark earlier than ever today. Took a snap of the end car park.

Then back to working on this blog. In between going for a leak, of course. Then fatigue dawned on me, so I stopped to get some nosh sorted.

As I was prepping the fodder, surprisingly, suddenly everything seemed to light up. The sun was having one last attempt at coming through, and I got the camera to snap it. Not a good effort, but still.

Sausages with a drop of onion gravy, carrot and leek potatoes, coiled potatoes finished off in the oven, fresh Nicaraguan garden peas, and a Lemon & Lime posset pot. Not as good as last night’s, but a score of 7/10 for flavour was given.

Washed the pots and back to the chair to eat the posset… Zzzz! Off into a deep sleep, I trundled and had the dream, as I had mentioned earlier…

.

I was in a shopping centre or big market. As I went along, it dawned on me that the three-wheel walker was behind me, and I was pushing a shopping cart ahead; I turned to look for a supermarket where I assumed I had taken the shopping trolley; from… Then noticed that the three-wheeler was following behind, under its own steam? Then as we came to an escalator, I hesitated, and other shoppers were getting annoyed, asking me what the problem was.

I said I can’t get on the escalator with two trolleys… and I got the oddest of looks, and people laughed at me. One woman asked if I’d escaped from somewhere?

“What’s its name?”

“Who’s?”

“The trolley you pillock!” “Tsk! are you poorly or what?”

“I call it my walker?” With which she snapped her fingers and commanded, “Walker… Fly! I thought, even in the dream, something’s not right here? But the three-wheeler raised up like a Darlek in Dr Who and flew gently down to the bottom of the escalator!!! Wait for me at the bottom!”

When I followed the others down, I realised that there were no moving steps, just a controlled cushion of air, that we were using?

And I could see down on the floor below, trolleys of all sorts waiting for their owners and running to their side when they got down. And mine did the same? seeing other folks sending the trolleys to get things from the shops, I tried it… “Walker, Boots, get a large tube of Germolene!” And of he waddled off to the Boots store…

A ganglet of young ladies surrounded me, asking for my signature, and would I sing them a song? Like pricking a bubble, instantly they were all gone?

I sat on a bench, trying to make sense of all this…

I was woken up by Carer Lisa. I didn’t mention the dream.

Lisa did the medications, and she shot off; she was busy tonight.

I got the computer back on and updated this blog.

It’s been an odd day… again!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe Series

 

Inchcock: Currently Up For Adoption

Inchcock: CURRENTLY UP FOR ADOPTION

Would You Adopt Someone Who Listens To Music by Ivor Novello?

A slightly sub-standard, bald, 75-year-old, born in a bordello,
A life-long Nottinghamian, with an IQ of barely above zero,
A recovering alcoholic, stroke and cardiac victim, and dipso,
A short chubby, well-bellied little thing has his own yo-yo,
Hoping that someone can show him how to use it, you know!
Inchcock has a thing for Marilyn Monroe, although…
His doing anything about this have long gone, thus his yo-yo!
He can cook, drop things, walk into them, oh, and he’s a Virgo!

He Falls over frequently, but with help, gets up, giving it another go,
In many ways, he plods on with his ailments; he’s a bit of a hero!
At least the last time we spoke at the hospital, he told me so,
He’ll tell you of when he climbed to the top of Kilimanjaro,
But in reality, it was a steep hill in Ludlow,
And, he drove up the mountain, in his Triumph Toledo!
Vascula Dementia confuses him; I think he still has some gusto…
For the ladies, but sadly, his desires have long been fallow,
But he does like a pot or slice of cake or a limoncello.

His momentary spells of reality sadden him; he feels low,
What’s happening to him in old age, he doesn’t want to know,
Back into his deep mental haze, he’s a semi-contented fellow,
Talk to him gently, and he’ll get the message, Roger-Wilko,
Owt you want him to do will usually follow,
Even if his words seem bewildering and hollow,
There will be times when he seems bright and tally-ho!
Don’t miss his medications whatever you do, though!

Ablutioning-wise, especially shaving, the blood will flow…
Neuropathy diagnosed, amazingly he can be a cheery bloke,
Occasionally, he thinks he’s Clint Eastwood or El Zorro,
His neuropathy has shaken his right side since the stroke,
He tries to stay calm and can start the day being mellow!

He still cooks, using black bean sauce and BBQ, even Tabasco,
Now he knows the firemen by name, Colin, Brian and Joe,
Please, don’t let him run-free in Aldi, Sainsbury’s or Tesco,
He’ll panic if he can’t find you and may freeze, ipso facto!
Please forgive any of his mishaps or unintended peccadillo.
If you do misplace him, just call the police or a medico.
But operating the TV remote control, he’s messy & ultraslow,

His confidence is getting low; of course, it will not regrow,
Like certain body parts that hang below…
At least he’s stopped wearing his bra and using eye shadow,
His new Protection Pants have saved many a fiasco!
He uses his picker-upper to retrieve things dropped below,
And is contented to on DVD, his 1960’s TV shows!

He’s harmless to anyone else, this I can guarantee,
Making others happy and smile is his forte,
He shows no signs of toxicity and has congeniality,
He can’t help forever going for a wee-wee…
And he would like someone to adopt him, desperately,
He realises this would not come for free…
But has a limited amount of money,
Which he doesn’t find very funny,
He is totally free of hate and is never sarkie!
So, if possible, can you help and make him your adoptee?
He makes a great mug of Glengettie tea!

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Inchcock’s Make ‘Em Laugh Series

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Coping with Old Age – Inchcock Style

Coping with Old Age – Inchcock Style

Wrote in SuPport of the fethaurus Users league

Like Corona Virus and wee-weeing, it comes to us all,

Like dizziness, madness and having many a fall,

You can’t prevent it, like a rainy squall,

It’ll come, Summer, Winter, Spring or Fall,

You might be having rumpy-pumpy, or playing beachball?

Football, tennis, baseball, trying to throw a curveball,

Or you could be summoned to the guildhall,

Nowt will stop ageing, for eternity, you may trawl,

But as I say, it doesn’t matter at all,

Ailments, disabilities, agony to recall,

Life is just a struggle and a brawl,

Unfairness, those who seem to have it all,

Money, good looks, who lives are a ball,

Even for them, live will stall,

Death is perfectly natural,

Mind you, them who live at Balmoral,

Though, lacking in some moral,

Live longer, that’s connatural,

It’s us commoner’s, with no collateral,

Who was accepting our being visceral,

But death, well, it’s gone viral,

For the underprivileged, hopes, are not transferable,

Though, commitment is not endurable,

Life is not so cheery, easy, or affable,

Things can get so bad, death is advisable,

But still, you must admit, it can be laughable!

I wish that humour was bequeathable,

And seeing the future was browsable,

Wouldn’t it nice, if death was cancellable!

Just a thought! – I had one in 1958 as well!