Acci-Whoopsies Sat 8th Feb 2025

HAVE A GREAT DAY
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– ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
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Do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do
I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain,
What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again,
I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline,
The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin,
Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place,
Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face,
I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again,
Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane!
Dancing, laughing at the pain
I’m happy again…
I’ll cope and smile at the pain,
I may flinch cause the pain is a bane!
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There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. 
I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.

Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. 
The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not
give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.

Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay.
2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before.
3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned.
A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me!
At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! 
. Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea…  Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening.
I’ve had better mornings!

Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment.
There I go,
moaning again. Tsk!

I got the computer on the go.
By Gawd, it’s going so slow.
But so was I, like an armadillo.
Then I got rumbling below…
Back to the wet room I went!

I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! !
Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now.
However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through.
A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, 
thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind.
Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them.
Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha!
Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. 

I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!

Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥

Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?

Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.

Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.

I updated this blog up to here.
And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea.
This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.

Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.

The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!

Then, I sorted out a meal.
But this one wasn’t!

I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. 
Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner.
Constantly waking up with either  or pains twinging away.

A painful day and night today!

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Evening… or, Morning Each

 

Croaking Inchy: Wednesday 25th December 2024

Not Starmer, naturally!

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I’m not having any Christmas fare,
I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair,
Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger
It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger,
I feel I’m no longer a belonger…
I was happier when I was boozier,
I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier…
Living life like a boondoggler,
A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger,
Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater,
Mild now, worse as I get older…
Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter,
I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma,
Never wanted excess money or grandeur,
Others notice as you get gimpier,
You may suffer from graphomania,
Ending up a grammaticaster,
I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter,
Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier,
No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter,
Concentration and memory will falter,
You become an easy target for any finagler…
Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter,
My turn to become a contradicter…
It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania,
When it comes to life’s final closure…
Things will be revealed by your claviger…
Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever,
Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever,
To return to earth, you must be a groveller,
And bare-face liar, like Starmer!
And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer!
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Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one!

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The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday.  Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)

I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!

My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think. 
Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two. 

As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time.
I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!

Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.

I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN!
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It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻

I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door.  I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha! 
I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.

Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night.
I’m sorry I mentioned it now.

When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer. 

Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo.
It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime! 
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I’d better get my Christmas meal started.
Not as good as the criminals’ meal,
But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!

Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding  (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course.
It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

Carer Victor did the last call.

I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs.
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Sayonara

Inchy: Masses of Mayhem Monday 9th December 2024

I am shattered! I’d been doing this blog on and off (a busy day) for about eight hours. And, considering all the nurse’s visits and telephone calls with disturbing and good news, I was pleased with how much I’d got done come 19:00hrs.
I LOST THE WHOLE LOT!
I’VE NOT THE FOGGIEST IDEA WHAT I DID TO LOSE IT!
So here I am starting again after saving later photos as older ones to save memory. I’m in the shit! I even lost the 32 lines of my Ode! I am pissed off with myself and not exactly full of interest in trying again. The Carer who read it thought it was great… which makes me feel worse! I am not in a good place. Damned seizures must be to blame, or instead, whatever I did that cost me a day’s work! There just isn’t enough time to do it all as well again as I did.

Fed up! HEARTBROKEN!
My eyesight is bad. I’m so tired and weary of having two sleepless nights. The right hearing aid has broken down.
No way! I have not had time to reproduce what I thought was a fantastic Ode. So, after a day of struggling with other things, this happens! So, after all my work, getting this blog fully detailed with plenty of whitty bits scattered in it will have to be a rush job. Sorry! I’ll do my best. Even if it means a third sleepless night!
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I went to see Doctor Downing,
Who said I was rough-looking,
Have you done nowt about yer coffin?
I said Well, no! (between my coughing),
She said, “Well, put yer hearing aids in!”
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I must have tried to sleep for nine hours last night. How can someone be so tired and worn out and ‘not’ sleep? I can; that was the second sleepless night. I tried on the hospital bed, then moved into the second-hand, c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. But with and Anne Gyna, there was no chance. I gave up hope and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch, then went to make a brew of 99 tea. And I enjoyed it, despite nearly dropping it when I took to the computer. The need for the Porcelain Throne arose.

I went back to the kitchen and took snaps of the morning view. It was raining still. I first took a poor-quality shot of what I mistakenly called Venus yesterday. Tim Price informed me it was Jupiter. Then a straight-ahead view of the lights from the streets of Sherwood.
Another poor effort.
I started the 32 lines of the Ode. (That I lost along with the rest of the blog eight hours later). Cragknangles, Thunderisations! Criggleblogsworthisms! Grobognangles! Frangleklops! Oy-yoy-yoy! Crigglebogsnot! Grobbleknangles! Grufflemoan! Skullgranglebonks! Granglespithowlations! & Grobbledamitt!

Carer Richard arrived. I’m sure I had many mini-bouts while Richard was here.
Fifteen minutes of hazyness. 

I struggled to return and find where and what I was doing on the blog. I took a breather and tried to add to and remove some items on my Asda order for Wednesday. No, it’s Tuesday or tomorrow! That means I have to be up early, it’s coming at 0600 to 0700hrs. And here I am, two sleepless nights, and it is already gone, 2200hrs. I’m doing the blog I lost again. I am so frustrated! Anyway, I couldn’t sign in on the Asda site. I spent a fair time trying to get in without any luck. So, I changed the password for the third time. Care Chloe arrived with more distractions. She helped me write the new complicated password clearly, but it would not let me in. I decided to try again later. Same thing, no-go. So, I tried using Firefox and got in. By then, I’d forgotten what I wanted to add and remove the order. Is it worth me trying to carry one?

Eventually, despite reinvigorated attacks from Ann Gyna and Shocking Sherida, I got back into a system of sorts and was doing well on the blog. (The first one, of course)

Matron Jackie arrived, and we spoke about the medications and prescription getting difficulties. She told me the Doctor had just sent the prescription today to the chemist. So it should be ready for collection on Wednesday; I explained the procedure to Carer Richard, who is in control.

Then a lovely nurse turned up; Matron Jackie had asked her to visit me so she could… Ahem!
Check  on my arms, man breasts and chest. Which was fine by me.
Also, the catheter strap scars, ,  , My mandarin-sized testicle,  condition, and the welts and pressure spots on my flabby stomach. I think I masked my true feelings, okay. The nurse told me I was wearing the day pouch too low.
We spoke of the creams that I think are at the Chemist and are now awaiting collection from Carrington. I pointed out that the Caregiver (Richard) calls each Monday, sorts out which medications are needed, and lets the Doctor know. He called this morning, and there were no prescriptions for me there.
She thought the Carers applied the creams on me and helped me bathe. I said they do not, and I’ve never asked them to. The nice nurse will let Matron Jackie know about the ailments and medications when she gets back to base.

I got back to blogging. With all the breaks, it was enough to concentrate on the work (without losing it all!   Cribblebogangonies! Glunglegnatsworth! Skullgranglebonks! Cracklepackers!

I was just about to investigate what I would have for my meal (This was 7 hours ago now, and I’ve still not got it, having to do the blog twice). Dungunblast! And the landline chirruped.
It was Matron Jackie ♥. She’s been busy helping me out. She confirmed that the cream and lotions will be ready for collection from the Carrington Pharmacy on Wednesday.
She had arranged for future prescriptions to be sent to a different chemist, Jaypoen, in Daybrook. She confirmed they would take me on their list. The best part is that they will deliver the prescriptions to the flats! I looked on Google Maps and got this picture of the shop. Obviously, I misheard Matron; it was Jayplex Chemist, not Jaypoen. It is much nearer than the Carrington shop on Mansfield Road in Woodthorpe.

But if I do have to go there, there is a darned steep hill to use to get me there. Hey-Ho! I don’t think I would manage it in my condition. Well, I know, I tried a few months ago.

THE CALAMITY OCCURED!
So, I started this second blog.
I am just too tired and will try to finish it in the morning.
I did take two snaps, though, when I was making the stew in the crock pot. The rain has stopped now, and it is getting dark so early. A little later, I spotted what I thought was Venus in the dark sky. I now know that it is Jupiter. Tim Price pointed out my . I’m very good at them, you know. Hang on, with the cock-up, I think I took the Jupiter shot in the morning. Yes, I must have cause this is the other snap I took tonight. I’ve got in such a mess; I already put the Venus Jupiter one on! Humph!

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My primary reaction to today
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TTFN.

Blotchy Inchy: Sunday 27th October 2024

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A new Google font here; it’s called Oregano.
Do you like it? Please let me know,
Ah, the ode; here’s how it does go…
The missus told me she was feeling chestier,
I said that’s my job and I took a gander…

She gave me a swift backhander,
We made up and had a mutual pander,
She was a big gal, my Grizelda,
It’s been over 20 years since I’ve held her,
The best bits that I can remember…
The sex was out-of-this-world, boshter!
 She made perfect sausages in batter,
We cared not for technomania,
No TV, computer – they didn’t matter,
We both shared a nostomania…
For sex, again and again, & more frequenter,
My passion ended when I lost her…
In heaven, I hope to find her…
I’ll get her location from St Peter…
It by chance I should again find her…

I hope I’ll not still be wearing the catheter?
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Andy is another furry who only needs his expressions; they are more transparent than if he had a voice. He loves a greenie and can get grumpy, but we all love him, including me!He regularly nods off cause he is sleepy,
Doug’s a real entertaining Kitty!

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I stirred and passed wind rather violently and lay there feeling and listening to the birth of an in-my-tummy tsunami brewing up. There was no time for messing about. I needed to escape the clutches of the bed, free the nocturnal catheter pouch, and hasten to the Porcelain Throne ASAP! Once again, things didn’t go according to plan for me. After getting my night bag off in a flap, I went with Willie-the-Wooden-Walking-Stick to the wet room. En route, I knocked a bottle off the bed table and stubbed my toe. I almost tore off the dressing and nightgown, throwing them on the floor and plonked my bottie on the porcelain. The evacuation started before I got settled. I think it must be the liquidest evacuation I’ve ever suffered! And boy, did it reek! Yes, it did!
The evacuation lasted about thirty seconds. It spattered everywhere. What a stinking mess I made of the wet room! It must have taken me thirty minutes to clean everything up. How some liquid got onto the floor is still unknown; splashbacks? Then, a real insult to injury. As I was doing the mopping up, I had to move the bucket, not an easy manoeuvre with Willie and the mop to contend with; the mop slipped from its resting place on the floor cabinet… the only part of my body it hit, was my on my foot’s Onychocryptosis: ingrowing toenail. As I was quietly cursing my luck, I caught the bucket, lifting my foot to ease the pain, and spilt some of the contents back onto the just-cleaned floor!
What with the day catheter leaking down my leg and soaking my sock, slipper, foot and floor yesterday, the computer problems, and a lousy night’s sleep, now another embarrassing evacuation this morning, I got the feeling that I just might even be unluckier than I thought I was. Haha!
I finished cleaning up and returned to the bed to tidy it up. This was when I noticed that the bottle I’d knocked off the ottoman in my rush to get to the had burst open and spilt on the same spot on the carpet that I’d involuntarily wee-weeded on Saturday! More cleaning up was required, and all I’d done was get up to visit the WC!

I decided to make a mug of tea. Once in the kitchenette, I got that ‘Oh, Dear’ feeling; had I left the taps running in the wet room? I went to check. Sod Me; I had. Now, there is no hot water to do my ablutions. This irked me a little, and I hobbled hastily out of the wet room, worrying if I’d left the kitchenette tap running! And walked into the door frame… I think I’m either addicted to shoulder-charging door frames, or the NHS needs to get a move-on in tending to my Glaucoma Gladys problem and eyesight! Still, it allowed me to discuss my concerns and how I couldn’t get help. Fair enough. I know I was only talking to a wooden doorframe about them, but the doorframe and I seem to have gotten closer over the years. We’ve become firm friends. Hahaha! 

I won’t bore you with much about the computer, CorelDraw, and personal failures; just say I’m struggling more than ever.

An ailment that has been so kind to me these last few days has returned with a vengeance. This made things even more complicated to cope with on the computer. She must have visited me dozens of times, and after each one, I was lost as to what I was doing before she paid me each visit. 
I got in a right mess this afternoon with it. I thought I’d just run the Ccleaner. I went into a dipsy mode for ten minutes or so. I carried on doing the cleaning again. A window told me there was a problem with Norton, Google, and something else that meant nothing to me. A graph of Something Assistant’s workings, which I could not make any sense of, began. I didn’t know if I should minimise, close, or leave it running. I left it running and went to get a cold water wash. I didn’t shave in cold water and dared not carry a kettle of hot water from the kitchen to the room.

I started cleaning up the kitchen a bit. Then I remembered I’d turned off the computer (which I hadn’t). I returned to the desk, and the Assistant thingy was still working in the graph window. I decided on another well-calculated risky guess or gamble and turned everything off without saving anything. The computer would not let me. Grumph & Clagknackers!

I washed my feet in a bowl of water, had an unfruitful search for my bus pass, and did a bit of muttering. Then I restarted the computer about an hour later. This was about teatime.  
The computer let me save some graphics (top) and photos to a file but stopped after allowing a few. I don’t want to tell you my reaction; it was, but desperately futile and dangerous come to mind. Desperate worried me the mostHehe!
Early this morning, I took this shot on the left from the kitchenette window. Why or how the computer let me save this one remains one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, lack of support, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Still, never mind.

Awaiting the arrival of the evening carer now. It is too early to start cooking cause the Carer may come while I’m noshing. So, another late meal. It’s not that I’m really bothered.

Carer Ali (evening) arrived, and I told him about my terrible start to the day. We both laughed. I was given medications, and I went into the kitchen.
The potatoes had boiled over and stained the cooker, floor, saucepan and counter! I was livid at myself! Carer Ali had to leave; he took the rubbish bag from the disaster with him to the waste chute.
I had to clean the floor, counter, sink and saucepan. But I still have the lamb burgers in the oven. I’ll eat each of them with two slices of bread and some tomatoes if they are still edible.
I even managed to add another burn to my knuckles, putting the assessed lamb back in the oven. It’s hard to select a word for how I feel without swearing!

I finished the burgers. I took photos of the saucepan, cooker, and so-called meal I’d made, but we’ll see if the computer will let me use them in the morning.

The story behind this miserable meal.

I took this snap later after I found the
potatoes had boiled dry in the saucepan
and covered the cooker with bubbling, 
boiling salted water, and the new pan
stained, and the handle melted!

This week has undoubtedly proven that I need more help.
Two failures to get to the Porcelain Throne in time.
Three times, the hot water tap was left running.
Two Catheter leaks that both left me with pee on my socks, feet, and the carpet.
I’m beginning to suffer more confusion and memory loss after each of the seizures.
I must ask a Carer to ring the Social for me, even if it means I must go to a home. 

BONUS INCHY ODE

I thought I was depressed before,
I think I need help even more,
Eyesight, hearing & memory poor,
I’ve lost willpower & confidence, for sure!
Leaks from the rear-end and catheter,
I’m now a supreme new bruise getter…
A decent bloodletter & bloodshedder,
It’ll only get embarrassingly badder,
I’m constantly
dropping the eyedropper,
Falling, tumbling, coming a cropper,
Existence has lost all of its allure…
I regularly get a mental flashover,
Cartilages, Shaking-Shirley’s-Shoulder,
Electric Shocking Sherida…

Sham’s Mini-Seizures,
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps getting older!
Depressions are getting far deeper,
An easy target for any crook or fraudster,
Cooker taps left on, there’s no hot water,
Mercy, compassion, give me no quarter,
Staying extant is getting fraughter
,
Monday morning, I felt my heart flutter,
Will it be going into failure?
Failure; at that, I’m the master!
In this world, I now feel like a squatter,
As I age, problems get thornier,

Concentration gets weaker,
My breathing echos like a Zither,
Life is a bore that I’ve managed to endure,
New ailments arrive that to cannot abore,
I ask the Lord; Is there to be any more?
I drop things as I get more ambisinister,
Vocally, I’m becoming a babbler,
Fears, worries, increase my paranolia,
I forget what it was I was thinking over,
Some days, I feel inept, angrier, peakier,
Frustrated, depressed, or and weaker,
My outlook continually grows bleaker,
Now the computer won’t let me save a picture!
My mishmash of thoughts turns into a quagmire,
Do I need a psychological rejigger?
I need examinations done, ocular…
Audial, Diabetic & see the Doctor…
The world has never been my oyster,
My logicality & common sense get meagrer,

Each unsolvable problem is a monster,
When I die, go to the next sphere,
I hope to God they don’t send me back here!

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

– – There are 5 Actually, Sorry – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski

INCHIE TODAY: Monday 13th March 2023

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Inchie: Knowall Alto’s spelling is rotten!

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

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Another frustrating day. Errors, mistakes, went to get my toenails cut on a wrong day. Clouted my now aching elbow on the door-frame. Lost the mobile phone, but found the magnifying glass when looking for it. On the bright side, there were only three Porcelain Throne visits. Dropped, and this time, broke one of the China tea mugs… hit my forehead on the sink bending to clean up the mess. Still, Jodie and Carolynne calling cheered me up. Carolynne came while I was adding ingredients to the stew of soup I was making for later; her face was a picture when she looked at it and said… “Should it be that colour?… still it smells nice!” The Catheter tube in Little Inchie has given me more angst than for ages – that was because I had to get dressed to go down to the salon to get the feet done, and Cathleen Catheter does not like the tube being pulled about when I have to walk… mind you, Little Inchie certainly disliked it! I’ve just stubbed my toes again as well!
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Emptied the pouch

Nippy and windy this morning. Glum, too!

Potatoes into their crock pot again.

Got an email from matess and mate, HRH Lisa-Petal, and Professor Billum from Ohio. They are going to phone me again; bless them and needed to know the best time to ring cause of the cost. I made a clip of the computer screen in Calendar and sent it off to them. ♥

Busy week. Hang on, I did this yesterday, didn’t I? Oh, dear. I think I’m losing it faster than I thought!

Just before lunch, I stood up after hours at the computer, and the straps on the Catheter pouch fell. Got it emptied just in time!

Carer Atere did the first two calls. On the first, as I went to show him, the taps to check were not let running; for a change, Instead of shoulder charging or head-butting the edge of the door-frame, I hit my elbow joint against it. It’s still stinging now, over ten hours later! Humph!

Got a text message. It’s getting harder to read than ever. I did decipher the short message: “Feet 2 p.m.”

So, I had to get the ablutions done swiftly. And dressed to go down to the salon. By the time I’d got halfway there, Little Inchies fungal lesion was giving my… well, agony! This is why when I do not need to go out, I just wear a dressing gown in the flat, thus relieving the harassment to the inserted tubing. I checked the laundry room for my washing bag but could not find it, and I only have one clean gown left, and I’m wearing that.

I must ask a carer later – I must ask a carer later – I must ask a carer later!

When I got to the salon, well, I wrote about this in the intro. I am a fool!
Carer Kara… no, Jodie pointed out the error that I’d made with reading the message. There was another line with ‘Friday’ on it!

Why I took this… another mystery.

Bit of rain.

THe Adsa order arrived…
Kepy it down this time; not too much bought…

This was the sky at the usual sunsetting time?

Still Bootiful!

CArolynee called on the last visit.
Lovely to he her and Jodie after such a long time.

Last photo of the sky.

MY being a pareidolia addict, I found something
in each of the above photos! In the bottom one, at least five animals.
Can you spot them? Go on, have a look!

Got the late nosh sorted out.
Can of lamb & potatoes soup.
Well seasoned with lamb gravy, basil,
tomato passata, Worcester sauces,
mint, sea salt & added a lot of sliced
boiled potatoes.
Soft rolls were delivered today.
Result:

tasty!

ZZZ!

Inchcock Today: Sunday 30th October 2022:

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Panic-Modes – depressions – self-pitying,
Doreen Dementia & Anne Gyna, combined
with Frustration Frank today. To curse everything
that I tried to do or find solutions too!
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Woke up. (Well, it’s something to do, innit?) Got the waste bags made up took the overnight wee-wee bucket to be emptied, washed and disinfected, and back to the kitchenette to make a mug of tea.

And I started sorting out the fridge contents. As you’ll have noticed, the mind was a smidge wayward and wandering this morning. I took a terrible photo of the morning view as the day was getting brighter, the thought to myself, I do a lot of that, you know, Doreen Dementia permitting, of course!)

Made the brew of Glengettie and took it with me to the computer, and… a Panic Mode was engaged. What had I done wrong here? The time on the computer was an hour different to all the other clocks. I checked on the mantle top one, the kitchen clock, the wristwatch, and the wet room clock. In fact, I used the Porcelain Throne while in there – one word covers the experience – Solid!

Washed and back to the computer. Even I can’t believe this… but I phoned Jenny to see what time it was! Yes, I’d missed the clocks going back! Which explains why I was also concerned, thinking I’d not heard the Carer arriving. Tsk! It’s beyond sad; this is bad.
Class One – Grade A – Docility-Status, Frustration and Self-Loathing modes briefly attended as well.
Arrived, and looked tired again, poor lad. But he was bright enough, and after the tablets were taken, we had a minute nattering he was in a rush but still took the waste bags with him for me to the chute.
Josie’s meal prepping next.
I boiled a large potato, and when it was nearly done, I cut it up into Josie-size pieces, and got then sprayed with oil, and into the preheated oven to crisp up.
I think Josie likes these in the chilli-stew. Which had been on the stove gently warming through, with 7-Veg sauce, tomato passata, onions and some chopped tomatoes. I hope she appreciates the effort I put into this for her. She rarely says thanks to me. As long as she’s happy. It’s getting harder and harder to do now. Still, as long as she enjoys them, I can ask no more.


What a great session that was. So many of my usual annoying ailments gave me a free ride this morning –
And, as well, besides that, I only had one shaving cut, a tiny one. The were also kind to me. I may be laughing here, but it’s Worrying this is? Hahaha!

Grrreat Blood Pressure Result today!

Finally, and proudly on time yet again, I got the meals for Josie prepped and served up on the tray. A cold version in the grey-lidded tub so she can put it straight into her fridge to eat on Monday.
Drinkies and after nibbles supplied as per... and off to deliver it to her door.
There was a long wait, several minutes, and I pressed the bell again; in case she was in the shower and did not hear the first one. The meal was getting colder and colder. There was no point in me having heated it up for 30-seconds in the microwave before delivering it, was there. The main worry was is she alright?
As I was going back into my flat to call someone about Josie possibly being poorly or having taken a fall… The door opened to reveal Josie. That was a relief! The casual semi-annoyed likelihood at me pressing the bell twice was, “I was on the phone, too, my Sister!” I think she was a little peeved? Ah, well, you can’t win them all. Hehe!

Finally, I got the Friday.. no, Saturday blog posted off. And had to have a break and sit down; the sudden fatigue arrived. I put two baking potatoes in the oven, and .

I woke up, and darkness was falling.
I went off into the kitchen and took this photo on the left, of the evening view, in mid-stream of getting the potatoes out of the oven. I halved them and removed the innards into a large mixing bowl. Where the flesh was mangled and mashed with a blob of butter, sea salt and much of the gated Leicester cheese!
The resulting meal from my culinary escapades, with the last cod and veg sausages, was one of my better efforts, I’m proud to say.
The cheesy baked potatoes were the highlight, taste-wise. Stunningly tasty, the sausages were grand; even the cheap large white cob, which was used to wrap around sausages and dipped into the BBQ sauce, was a cut above my usual too. A Flavour-Rating of 9.3/10 was given! A record-high score, I think? Well filled up and satisfied by the feast… I .

Rudely awoken by , as (I think?) came into the room. Being half-asleep and not having made any notes, I’m not sure if anything of note occurred during the visit, but have a vague idea she was asking me if I was sure I was okay? Just being so tired gave the impression. But I was fine otherwise… hope I thanked her for the concern. Sorry if not, Jodie… also I hope I got your name right too?

But it was fitfully broken. So many times did I wake up and nod off again. I lost count of how many springing awakes I had. But, I was grateful that I got back into the land of nod each time.
After the umpteenth time of waking, I needed a wee-wee this time. And the most annoying was needed as I was preparing to use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with such a lot of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) that by the time I’d waited for it to all flow, I was much more awake, and started working on this post updating around 00:30hrs.

Someone said I should lead my life precociously…

So I looked it up on synonyms; Advanced, forwardly…

Before one’s time, improperly, preliminarily & brainily…

Precedently, unwelcomely, cleverly & soonly…

Well, this has stumped me!

Inchcock: Diary & Odes, Saturday 4th June 2022

Saturday 4th June 2022

Birthday of Angela Jolie

 

I popped over to see her.

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Fan… Bloody Tastic! I don’t think I had above seven spring awakes last night! I was aware of this as I stirred into a pretend sort of wakefulness. The need for a wee-wee became apparent… and increasingly so as the seconds passed…

I fumbled my way out of the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid-Harold-testing, not-working, sleep-impeding, nauseatingly beige coloured,  recliner. On the first foot shuffle, the right leg flailed about in one of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s rare, but famous for having Inchcock over and floored, Neuropathic Schuhplattler, dance routines. But, I beat the beast this morning, although how I’ll never know. Mind you, it was only a short sharp effort.

The only injury, and not a bad one by any means, was clouting my right knee on the chair arm as I hastened on one leg, to half hop back into the recliner. I don’t think I’ve caused any bleeding to Harold’s Haemorrhoids, no warm wet sensations from that area.

I stayed sat down where I landed, and I took a minute or two to catch my balance and composure. I reckon I’d done well there, not a bad start to the day, two minor victories on the trot, a good start! First, the getting some sleep, then mastering the wily skills of Neuropathy Pete, and avoiding what could have been a nasty tumble. I decided against going into another Smug-Mode though, I’ve been caught out like this before! It’s always a risk to engage smugness, something always seems to happen to spoil the moment.

I gently and cautiously rose to get to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for another unwilling, much force needed, and little evacuated, what was came in mini-sprurts and sprayed all over the place.

Not that it lasted long… certainly not as long as the after-dribble did. Again I was lucky enough, to avoid getting anything outside of the bucket doused. (It really is hard to resist going into a Smug-Mode, you know!) After the wee-weeing, I cleaned and sanitised the bucket, and got the kettle on.

I forgot all about the kettle being on, but I used the electric one, so no need to worry. Which for me, is saying something! I got the Boot’s Sphygmomanometer and got the BP done. Good figures: SYS 1487, DIA 70, Pulse recorded a sensible 91 bpm. Just one point over the recommended figure. The body temperature of 34.2°c was yet another pleasing result!

It had to come!

MedPhorpain Into the wet room for a wash, and I made a start on the morning medicationings. Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was checked, no bleeding, so ordinary Germolene was used. I Phorpained Cathy Cartilage, Arthur Itis’s knees, and gave the hands a good rubbing in, cause sure as eggs are eggs, I’m going to get Colin Cramps visiting again.  I syringed the ears out, dried it best I could with tissues, and got some of the three times a day Olive Oil dropped into each canal. I fear that the syringe did nothing to more any wax. Grungleturds! Despite my hope of loosening some by the constant use of oil three times a day! Took a Hemp capsule, because I forgot to take it last night. And orally took some CBD. Then a good few gulps of the Pentac.

I had the right job, trying to get the Phorpain on my feet! I wonder if there is some spray I could use instead? I’ll have a look at the web later. (He says, actually believing that he will not forget to do so. What an innocent fool the man is!)

I made up a waste bag, and it was time to utilise the Porcelain Throne. What an evacuation that was! I anticipated another struggle to get things going, and I utilised the crossword book… As I applied the littlest bit of pressure… Splurt-Plop! All done in one go! But it seemed to shoot out, and being of a sloppy, watery nature, it splashed all over the Porcelain, but stuck to where it landed! Worra Gooey mess!

I cleaned up and made a brew of JS Red Label Extra Strong tea. Went out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park, and see if RVD (Red Van Man) had managed to park between the white lines. Of course, he hadn’t! The driver of the white van would be a good person to get parking tips from?

Finally, I made a start on updating yesterday’s blog. Much belatedly.

💙💛🧡💜 The Carer arrived, and much to my pleasure, it was Carer Sarah! 💗 She is beautiful, and a Caring Carer. So patient, and likes to have a natter! Perfick! She showed me photos of her two daughters this morning, on her mobile phone. Two great looking gals, with cute faces that relays their happy nature and cheeky ways. I fell in love straight away! Hehehe!

I was a little mad at myself for getting all behind with the blogging. I made a determined effort to try and catch up on it. I made a start on yesterday’s finalisationing. Got it posted, then Emailed the link. Went on WP Reader, and answered some comments, some great ones from Professor Bill. Always seems to raise a smile and or laugh from me with them. Thanks, Billum!

Then onto Facebooking, which with the TFZer gang, is always a pleasure. Then back to some more WP Reading to get caught up. Made a start on this blog.

I was sat sitting here at the computer, and that dreaded warm wet sensation was felt from the lower rear region! Off to the wet room to have a decker at the problem. It seems that there must have been a delayed reaction from the Haemorrhoids when I plopped down on the recliner hours and hours ago, now. For bleeding they certainly were! I got washed up and Germoloided the area (very soothing). Got some new PPs on again, I used the cheaper but just as effective Depend pants, that I got from Amazon. Now all I have to do is hope the piles don’t erupt again. It’s a life innit?

To make things that little bit worse, the unneighbourly, superior-natured, Gentleman above me started his knock-knocking once more. Still, it didn’t last too long this time.

Blimey, where’s the time gone? It’s now gone beyond 15:00hrs! I’d better get some nosh made up. I’ve got a few beans left from last night. I’ll have some chips and veggie pastie methinks. The chips were Harry Ramsdens. A good name and reputation, even if costly to buy, I’d bought a big bag too. I had to pick out the black eye spuds as I got them into the oven tray.

2: Another Splurt-Plop, messy session.

Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea, and got some low-calorie nibbles put out on the counter, for the Carers. It’s surprising how tasty these little 99 calorie ones are, I knave been known to indulge in one now and then myself.

Got the nosh sorted and served up… but not without the usual mishap… Hey-Ho! My poor little toe! I dropped the sauce bottle and it landed with extreme precision, right on my side-toe bunion. I just laughed it off and carried on.

I ate the nosh and gave it a taste rating of 6.5/10. Then got the TV on, and the Hungary v England Euro game was showing. Then remembered the No-Moo ice cream I had in the freezer, so went and got a big bowl of it to nibble at it while watching the match.

I didn’t like the fans booing at the anti-racist stance kneeling by the England players. But, there can be no disputing that Hungary was the better team on the day. We’re playing Germany next I believe.

The BBC reported: This opening Nations League fixture was due to be played out behind closed doors as part of sanctions imposed by the governing body for racist and homophobic behaviour by Hungarian supporters at Euro 2020. But Hungary exploited what is clearly an obvious loophole in UEFA’s regulations to ensure England was greeted by a large crowd, comprised mainly of children 14 and under accompanied by adults, and the sort of noisy hostility that made a mockery of the idea this night would act as a warning against future transgressions. What should have been stony silence became instead a wall of noise and the game was concluded amid wild scenes of joy and a lap of honour by Hungary’s players after Dominik Szoboszlai’s disputed 66th-minute penalty gave the hosts a 1-0 win.

Hungary’s elation was aided by an England display dripping with mediocrity and fatigue in a truly surreal atmosphere. Fair enough!

Part-way through the game, evening Carer Valerie arrived. She was perkier than usual, which was nice to see. She took a can of refried beans off my hands, as the other can I bought, tasted too strong for my innards to handle. Picked some low-calorie nibbles, grabbed the waste bag on her way out, and we shared farewells. Bless her!

Head down, but again no sleep cometh, tried the TV and that was all crap… then remembered I’d got the DVD working again, so put on a Dr Who disc in.

I watched the first ten minutes or so, then started nodding off and jumping awake, which is a regular occurrence nowadays. I persisted trying to watch a bit in between the nod-offs. Eventually, I got off to sleep for an hour or two, and the last episode was on the screen when I woke.

ODE TO CONFIDENCE

This became obvious and apparent some years ago…
After the stroke, depression became an afterglow,
I waited, thinking an increase in abilities will follow,
But my hopes were dealt many a death blow…

But I’m so much better than other patients, I know…
Some patients didn’t make it, which brought me sorrow,
Since then, Peripheral Neuropathy, a broken toe…
Cataracts, Glaucoma, even some impetigo!
But, Dementia Doreen is the worst furrow!

To fretting, panicking and self-hating, I’m a theow
Yet still want, no need, my caring to show…
No idea if it’s working out yet, though…
People go the other way, rather than say hello…
To the madman, who looks like an overweight scarecrow!

Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit

Inchcock Today: Off to the EENT Hospital

Escape from the flats to the hospital

Got lost twice, forgot I’d got no trousers on… Oh, dearie me!

A Tale of Inchcock’s Day (Five Hours), Out on Tuesday

After another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep, I woke and was about to launch into a state of blaspheming Sweet Morpheus’s reluctance to let me stay asleep. Fed-uppedness, niggardlyness, and a smidge of feeling sorry for myself.

But, Dementia Doreen allowed me to remember about the hospital visit today, and the bitterness dissipated, to be replaced by a remarkably determined Inchcock, who set about getting all the things needed for the hospital visit. (Fair enough, he did forget some items, Humph! I felt almost reborn… not the proper terminology, but close.

I waited until it was late enough, and then I decided to get the ablutions done. What a great session! There were only two tiny cuts shaving, one clouting the head against the power box when I bent to retrieve the loofah I’d dropped in the shower. Great! That was it Whoopsie and Accifauxpas wise.

Naturally, something had to go wrong after that wonderful start to the day. Gragnangles! I sorted out suitable things to wear, got the risky job done first, and put the diabetic bamboo socks on. The comfortable-wearing long ones.

But I had to use Sock-Glide-Glenda. True to form, I trapped my fingers twice, the same ones, of course, on each sock. That thick plastic gripper is deadly! I got a welt and a couple of bruises as well. But this did not put me off cause I intended to do my best to get the go-ahead with cataract operations, and after a couple of mild oaths, I carried on and went to gather the other needs of the morning.

Comfortable shoes, trousers, jumper, and the sleeveless jacket with all the pockets in it. It’s lasted a long time this one, I said to myself, as I got the camera (not much chance to use it though, Tsk!) and emptied the pockets to place the needed items for the trip…

Oh, ‘ecky thump! After emptying things out to make room, and started to put the paperwork, keys and the Crossword book in the jacket… They each fell right through and dropped on the floor at my feet! What’s going on here, I muttered! I went into Sherlock Holmesian Mode (I do that sometimes).

  The entire lining had seemed to go rotten! Only one of the twelve pockets was useable! Undeterred, I limped into the hallway to see if those hanging up had fared better. Two of them had not, and they joined the blue one in the extra-large bin bag! Humph! I checked the khaki one’s pockets. All seemed okay, so I swapped the emptied contents in that jacket. Got the PP’s, trousers and best jumper on.

I realised that Carer Richard was due shortly, so I thought I’d better check I’d not left anything on the floor in the hallway for him to trip over; he’s a good lad.

Guess what? In my haste, I stubbed my toe on the towel airer, lost balance, and was entangled with the tipped-over airer and towel on the floor! With new welts on various parts of my knee, head and face! Unglefrogwonglingisations! I later found that I’d broken a tooth as well. My spirits were getting a little lower than they were earlier. Cor, blimey!

I worked on finishing the blog, and the ♫Oh Susana♫ tune belted out from the doorbell. I expected to see Richard come in, but no! Another… I’d not unlocked the door!!! So all that pain and hassle was for nothing! I had left some stuff on the floor on the plus side and was pleased to move them if Richard did a Whoopsie of his own on them.

I went to admit the lad; he was alright about things. He soon got on with the medicationing for me. With a wry smile on his mush at my antics, forgetting to unlock the door, the marks on my face and head etc… We both saw the funny side. Hahaha!

I finished changing and was ready for when the lift arrived to get me to the ophthalmology clinic.

The door chime rang again; the door was unlocked, but whoever it was didn’t come in. It was Josie returning her dish and tray from her Sunday lunch. She did not say she liked it… Oh, dear! At least she didn’t say there was something she didn’t like about it?

The intercom rang and flashed – Aha, it was the ambulance lift. I told the man I’d come down, saving them the bother of coming all the way up then down again.

I made my way out of the apartment and down and out through the main lobby. Two ambulance men? Perhaps they’d heard stories about me? Hahaha!

The journey was uncomfortable, but all of the old ambulances I’ve been in were. So I anticipated it.

When we arrived, friendly and slowly driven, at the Queens Medical Centre, both lads came with me to the ophthalmology department waiting room.

Then took me to the waiting area. I could not hear anything the receptionist said, and one of the men translated for me. I realised then that I’d not put the crossword book in the coat or walker trolley. Shame that, cause it’s the only book I can read the clues on at the moment.

So I sat there, nosing at all around me. Bored rigid! But it didn’t take long for a lovely, attractive young lady to call my name out – but I didn’t hear it at first, and the gal took the bother to come and ask me, Hehe!

She led me to a small room with many machines for an ophthalmology-specific procedure. The blast in the eyes and many tests were patiently done on the beads. Deep family history was gone into, and about an hour later, I was returned to the waiting area to await being called by the Ophthalmologist.

During my wait to be summoned, I learned a lot, such as the lady in a cream coat is having smoked haddock for supper tonight. The man and woman and an elderly pair do not like the TV cookery programmes other than Gordon Ramsay’s. A lady in a uniform but not a nurse or medical one was annoyed when someone phoned her. I could not hear the other natterings, the acoustics are not good in a big hall. Hehe!

The Ophthalmologist lady came for me and led me to an even smaller room this time. Heck of a lot of examining and questions were gone through.

With Peripheral Neuropathy, I had trouble keeping my chin on the plastic thingamabob and had to look up all the time. The lady was not impressed or amused. She had to keep starting whatever she was doing again. I don’t think I was very popular at all. I did explain my conditions when I went in.

The eyes were tested using a log mar chart. In-depth history and current problems with sight. The Doctor knew what she was doing alright, it seemed to me. But I had to keep asking her to repeat things. Very quietly spoken lass.

I guesstimated about an hour later, and she gave me her diagnosis. Cataracts in the right eye only would be done; although you have cataracts in that left eye, they are not as bad as the right one. We’ll see how you are going with it when this operation is done before tackling glaucoma. She will refer me to the surgeon, 12-week an average waiting time.

During my appointment, she’d noticed Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and my right-leg dance. She was concerned because of the delicate nature of the operation. Even seeing in one eye sees is better than none. It can only be done with no movement from the patient at all! This doesn’t bode well! Nevertheless, I was ticked pink at it going ahead.

I was told to go to the main reception to arrange a lift home. I didn’t expect a lift back, so I was even more gee’d up now.  I was feeling perkier now.

But I was soon back in my typical frame of mind, feeling a bit of a fool! I could not remember where the main reception was. I set off, trying to retrace my earlier route in reverse, and ended up in a room that looked like it had many babies all over the place? I withdrew hastily! Found someone to ask where the main eye clinic reception was located. And realised it was one of the receptionists I couldn’t hear talking a few hours ago when I arrived. Hahaha!

Anyway, I found it, and I had the job of hearing what the gal at the counter was saying again. She scowled at me and pointed in the direction of a two-seater settee in the corner near the door. “I’ve to wait there, then?” I think she almost clapped when she realised I’d got the message. She put a thumb up for me! Har-har!

I don’t know how long they were coming, but I was glad they were. When Richard arrived, he was cheerful enough. Then I made yet another cock-up…

By pure luck, I took a right turn and found my way to the outer door, seeing the two men looking for me! I couldn’t keep up with the chap and lost him and my direction again! Now I did feel like a complete idiot!

They got me inside and buckled in and went to get another patient from across the roadway. No problem. While they were out, I got my Canon camera and took some photo’s inside the ambulance. The first one is through the window on the back of the driver’s cab (above). Then one through the top side windows. At least I got a few photographs on my trip out, my escape from the flat.

Finally, one of the side doors and my beloved, makes-me-feel-safe three-wheeler walker. No patient came with them. So we set off for Sherwood and Woodthorpe Court independent living flats!

We were soon back at the flats after a carefully driven journey. The lads refused a treat of the cans in thanks from my bag. Ah, well!

But I wanted to make a start on this blog, which I did. I got in the flat, had a wee-wee, got the kettle on, got my trousers off, cut up, and cubed some potatoes to do in the oven. After an hour or so, the floor chime burst forth again…

To my utter surprise, it was the Evening Carer Nichola… no, sorry, Natalie. My inner clock had gone all pear-shaped with the visit to the clinic. After she’s been here a few minutes, I realised that I had no trousers on!

I apologised hastily when I realised; it must have been a terrible sight for her. We managed a laugh about it, but I felt awful and openly cursed Dementia Doreen! Embarrassment, shame, self-loathing and feeling an almighty, right a proper twit, all flourished!

Worked on this blog. (I did get it finished) I’ll do this in the morning (Now). I was up late, and when I realised it was gone midnight, I was getting fed up with myself.

I concentrated on getting some much-needed food and made myself a quick meal. A can of the wonderful-tasting Morrison’s saver chilli con carnie and some potato cubes did them in the oven, to crisp them a little. A simple and cracking meal! It could have been because I was ravenous and tired and frustrated. I added only liquid salt and a splash of Worcester sauce and vinegar for the potatoes. I gave this effort a mammoth flavour rating of 9.2/10! Really enjoyed it!

The mess that I made making the potatoes, and doing the washing up, soon brought me back down to earth. Hehehe!

Review of the Day – In Odes

Sweet Morpheus didn’t allow me much sleeping…
Throughout the night, I would wake up jumping!
But I did remember, today, the EENT hospital visiting…
The best session for weeks, the ablutioning…
The Porcelain Throne visit was messy and paining…
I forgot to unlock the door; the Carer couldn’t get in…

A stubbed toe fell over the airer, got entangled within,
Sock-Glide-Glenda left me with cuts, bruises, hands and shin!
Emptied my jacket, things fell out, on the floor dropping…
The inner lining had apparently been rotting!

Took me hours to sort another coat out,
And swap things around the pockets…
Got it sorted and dressed to look smart…
Almost forgot to put the drops in the eye sockets…

Then the ambulance arrived, and I was soon in…
Thanks, to them, for to the hospital were driving…
The receptionist, I could not hear talking…
Some advised me of what they were saying…
Then to another waiting room, I was soon going…

First examination in-depth, the lady was engaging…
Back to the waiting room, results awaiting…
Got the okay, then moved to another area of seating…
Had a chat with a lady who was fortysomething…

The second exam, even deeper, by a lady appealing…
Eye drops were applied, and my head was reeling…
Back to the waiting room, I did some earwigging…
Awaiting being called back for assessing…

More tests on a machine and blinking…
I smiled and gave the lady some blinking…
But I didn’t get any return acknowledging…

To the Main Reception, to get a lift home, I was pleased!
But Dementia Doreen sent the memory adrift…
I got lost en route; I panicked and wheezed…
Felt a fool, ashamed and almost had a tift!

Found the reception, a stranger helped translate,
Sit in that chair (pointing) and for your transport wait…
So I did and didn’t have long to wait…
A driver came, said, follow me, mate…

I tried to follow him, but he walking relatively swift…
Chasing after him gave me a glift, boy, could he shift…
I lost him and got a bit miffed…
Panicked a bit and gave a little snift…
But found him outside, looking a bit squiffed…

Got home and lost all sense of timing…
The mind felt like it was abseiling…
Took my clothes off, nice and cooling,
Started with the day’s blogging…
Along came the evening Carer; I was welcoming…
Until I realised I had no trousers on, and started scaring!
Felt like an idiot, started self-caterwauling,
Embarrassed, ashamed, frustrating!

Well gone midnight got some nosh cooking,
Canned chill and potatoes, no casseroling,
Then turned my attention to sleeping…
Dreamed about Jillie and me, canoodling…
I think I started sweating and drooling…
A mortifyingly humiliating day, disconcerting!

The Nottingham Lad’s True Tales of Woe

Inchies Frictional, Unfrivolved, Fricking Friday!

Things started pretty well for me, oh, yah!

I got the Halloween hand-outs on display…

For carers, nurses, come who may,

Anyone visiting me from today…

Then got the potatoes, boiled with balsamic vinegar,

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

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

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

Titivated the kitchenette, dropped a jam jar!

An excellent job that it wasn’t the caviar!

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

Things were going well, all seemed alreet,

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

I even nibbled some biscuits, wholewheat!

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

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

We couldn’t understand what each other said,

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

His English was better than my Afghanistani,

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

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

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

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

Then had to get them into the lobby,

Then into the flats lobby,

Then into the flat,

Then the hallway…

Then the kitchen, my energy drained away!

Next, the swearing started, I have to say!

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

The baguette buggered, utter dismay!

Tomatoes crushed, and I was feeling bushed!

Honey yogourts pot fell apart; I was further crushed!

Got the salvaged food sorted,

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

The cooked ham was crumbs and crushed!!!

I was feeling despondent, to say the least!

Can’t see myself enjoying tonight’s feast!

Got the fodder all sorted… What was eatable anyway!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Down and into the connecting corridor with Winwood Court.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Boy, did I feel a fool!

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Luck Changed!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchcocks Escape to town No.5 – Wed 16th Dec 20: Oh, dearie me!

Out into the Drizzle

I arrived in town with aches and pains from the bus trip, I was already sorry I’d escaped! The bus ride was a battle between me keeping the trolley-guide from running away every time we took a corner, jammed the anchors on, went downhill, and my falling out of the seat! Harolds Haemorrhoids were stinging! I called in the Wilko store to get some of the Laundry freshener, which I did. I came out, with three of the granules, chocolate brazils, peanuts and a bottle of disinfectant.

I left and hobbled to the Poundland Shop, where I got carried away and frustrated. They had no pies, Dettol or filled BLT sarnies. After a physical battle with other shoppers breathing down my neck cause I was not moving fast enough, people running in front of me in the queue, I paid with the card at the checkout for the: Toffiffee box, Frazzles, White waste bags, Perle De Perle lemon desserts, Ginsters pasties, Microfibre cleaning cloths, can of stewed steak, Oxo cubes, Mint and lemon disinfectant, (Good for the overnight emergency grey wee-wee bucket, you know!) and a packet of Senna tablets.

Out in the drizzle, passing all the jolly, happy, sociable, kind, understanding, smiling, sweet-natured Nottinghamians, merrily going about their shoplifting and pickpocketing activities. Avoiding the pavement cyclists was risky!

Along Upper Parliament Street, and down King Street towards the Market Square. The wind was getting up, I was struggling controlling the three-wheeler guide, and getting the odd shower from the buses as they pulled up from the puddles. The toenails joined the piles in giving me some tender stinging as I limped down the hill.

I stopped at the bottom of Long Row opposite the tree, and took the time to just glance around, (in my Sherlock Holmesian Mode, here!), to access the mood of the Nottingham plebeians. The masks were being worn by, I’d estimate, 60% of the Nottingham great unwashed, Students, muggers etc., but I got the view that the masses, were not too content with life, but, who can blame them?

I limped across the Slab Square. I’d decided to go to the other Poundland Store on Wheeler Gate, in search of some Dettol disinfectant, and BLT sarnies. A sense of doom and gloom came over me as I crossed over, starving pigeons came down to me when I stopped a moment to try and wriggle the keet to free the toenails that had got tangled in the sock. They must have thought I was going have summat to eat, and hoped a few crumbs would fall to the floor?

Long Row looked terribly sad. Temporary and permanently closed stores everywhere, a desperate pigeon seeking fodder of some sort, and few Nottinghamians about! I got in the Poundland and had another struggle to get around, the feet and toes were harrowing painful now. I cheered a smidge when I found some Dettol lavender disinfectant on sale and got three bottles. As I meandered about I added, two part-baked baguettes, pork pie, a BLT sarnie, The wobbles came on when I got to the self-serve tills, I was embarrassed and in a pickle.

A young lady helped me out and picked up the dropped items and out them through for me. She was busy and kept nipping off to help others, and I started to all out of the shop with the trolley and bags hanging all over it, and the girl chased after me… I had not paid! Red-faced (it probably showed through the face-mask!) I returned and used the card…

Oh, heck! The machine would not take the card! I went into Panic-Mode. The young lady tried to calm me down, but all sorts of things were going through my mind, embarrassment being the biggest! I fumble around and found enough cash to pay, the lady was very calm about it. I thanked her and dug out a can from the trolley, of Vodka mix and gave it to her. When I got outside, I calmed down a bit, as I realised I’d used the card earlier at the other store, so the bak might have been being cautious, in case the card had been stolen and used?

I got to the slab square and noticed the large number of crows that were about. Someone had dropped some crumbs whatever, and the crows dived down attacking the pigeons? I had a good while before the bus was due, so I walked around the Council House and back along Long Row on the other side, to King Street. 

The Primark Store had bouncers and staff controlling the shoplifting customers as they queued up to do some pilfering. I don’t know how the stop stays in business. I rarely go in nowadays, its a large store with escalators and stairs, so I can’t go shopping there anymore anyway. But the times in the past I’ve seen kleptomaniacs and pickpockets at work when I did shop there, was phenomenal.

As I turned up King Street to go to the bus stop, the PAvement Cyclist git it blue, came withing inched of hitting me, and seemed totally unaware of it. I hoped my taking this photo might trigger him to ask me why I was photographing him, as he chatted to a fellow food deliverer. Then I could have told him! But, no!

The three Christian singers were out again further up the road, near the Brian Clough statue, its called speakers corner. They or one or more of them are regular attenders. The chap on the right with the guitar started this singing to the Lord off first. I’ve never seen him in long trousers, whatever the weather is like?

I got up to the bus stop and took this snap as I arrived there, it is sadly, indicative of the mood of the City Centre today. Drab! I caught a number 40 bus back home, glad I did, it is much quicker than the L9.

I was tired, in pain, mangled toenails, Duodenal Donald starting to kick-off, depressed, embarrassed, and oh, so keen and ready for fodder and sleep!