I’ve got arithmophobia, numbers leave my head in a haze,
No doubt, I’m an old gentleman, who is easy to faze,
Trying to understand and or appraise,
Easy, back in my earlier days,
Confusing now, my brain decays…
Facts and figures mixed, like mayonnaise!
This is clearer to me, a lot less bull,
+113.6%, well, that’s plainly plentiful!
Far too high for things to remain uneventful!
In fact, we must indeed all be very careful…
Or things can easily become more fatal!
I’m not sure why this was in the news at all?
This article is not likely to amuse or enthral?
Still, nice to see summat that’s not hard-ball,
I should welcome an item that’s not conflictual!
What is conditional bail?
Bed at a certain time?
Don’t stab anyone or impale?
Collect your dole on time?
Or eat only Wensleydale?
Don’t commit another crime?
Or is conditional bail, a dwale?
Here’s a right git who is rather unnice!
He’d drunk-driven before… Twice!
Nearly six years he got, very nice,
He was tried at Derby, didn’t apologise…
Better than the Nottingham Court guys…
They’d given him a month and free pork pies!
I can’t believe it, just two years… surely?
Our justice system is a tragi-comedy!
It defies logic and believability,
Saving money, with short sentences essentially,
Do we spend too much locking them up excessively?
Starve the gits! Forget about doing things humanely,
Or did the scumbag pretend to act demurely?
I find it hard to make a comment on this scum!
I’m sure she meant no harm at all,
By gum, she’s persistent, in for the long haul,
Though to be honest, it is only natural…
When the grandkids want drugs, avoid being conflictual,
Wanting to please young Elvis and Myrtle?
Brothers Jamil and Shakeel Amin spearheaded the group, who, in their twenties themselves, had a significant influence on young people in the city, who they were targeting since 2018. They were found to have long lists of clients, with frequent phone calls and texts relating to buying the likes of cocaine, MDMA and ketamine. Two members even bragged that they had so much money they could throw fivers ‘in the bin’, and the video of 29-year-old Shakeel Amin and 22-year-old Zain Mushtaq casting the notes aside was shown during the court case involving nine people as part of a drugs conspiracy.
I thought I’d end on a higher note, the top gang bullies got seven years each. It should have been a lot more, but with our justice magistrates and judges, it was a miracle they got seven!
Part of The Inchcock Local News Snippet Series – In Ode
I’ll start at the beginning, (Sounds logical to me? – Hehe!) Perhaps I might learn to spell as well… tomorrow…Tsk!
I woke around 03:00hrs and rose gingerly to my feet,
But the knees and legs bothered me most, mate…
Just look at ’em on the left here… What a state!
Still had Arthur Itis giving pain and the flat feet…
Without pains, a life I would think would be incomplete?
The regular fluid retention that usually sinks into the feet seemed now stuck in the top of the legs. My patellas are all knobbly? But I’m not complaining (then anyway).
I began to think through the needs and actions of the potentially hectic mornings requirement. Which, as I noted, were:
Get the ablutions done early, like straight away…
Make sure I do not use the shower as early as this in the morning, so I’ll have a stand-up session at the sink.
Get the teeth done first.
De-coke the nasals.
Saccades eye drops in. (Try to get some of the medication into the eye this time!)
Before shaving, don’t forget to say your little prayer to the Peripheral Neuropathy God. And make sure the aftershave is handy to stop any bleeding.
Do take care medicationalisationing. I can tell already that Little Inchies final lesion has been bleeding cause as soon as I moved, the dried blood cracked as the P.P.’s were adjusted… So be prepared for agony, and brave it out, mate!
Now cometh something that will be as much hassle and pain as anything…
Yes, the sock-glide has to be used for the first time in months! Sorry, but it’s just too cold to go out to the Dentist, barefooted in my shoes this time!
I wish you all the best of luck with carrying out this fearful, scare-making task! But, it’s got to be done!
Things went relatively well as it happened.
As expected. The worst by far was the tender application of the dreaded, feared, always tear bringing…
Tender in the extreme and extra painful cause one has to get to things in the first place… 😢
The Sock-Glide won the ‘Most Hated’, The Most Feared’ awards. But the fungal lesioning retained its status as ‘King of the Excruciating Medicalisationings!’
I was so glad that I got these done and out of the way early on… I even Smug-Moded about it for a while!
I made my first brew of tea, finished off yesterday’s blog, and got it posted off. The Carer came nice and early, so that was nice… her seeing the photo of my legs on the computer screen was a bit harrowing for the gal, though. Hahaha! Me too!
I thanked the girl and offered some nibbles or drinkies in thanks, but she wouldn’t have any. I fang-you! Off she went taking my waste bags to the chute with her.
The computer turned off, and I got down to getting things ready in earnest. Let’s have a think now…
Bus pass to get back home with, yes! Camera, check. Cash card… okay. Keys, Alert bands, Warfarin I.D., yes… Somethings missing, methinks? Aha, shopping list and cash card, Gorrit! By the time I was all ready to go, it was about 08:15hrs as I set out. I got into the lift and down to the ground floor…
Then went back up to the 12th-floor and the flat and got a face mask adorned. Nearly made another cock-up there!
THE JOURNEY…
Down and outside, over the road, Accifauxpas, nought!
I turned around, to the view of Winwood Court,
I took a photo of it… well, I thought I aught!
But the gravel hill up into the park made me fraught…
Made it up the hill in one go – but I was heavily breathing,
A dog came from nowhere, barking at me; I was seething!
Nearly ended up mucking my underclothing!
The dog owner arrived, she was chunky, fortysomething…
I fell in love again… the mouth was frothing…
I limped my way through the twitchel no one was about,
I was a little nervy, so I still kept a lookout,
Had a look around as I came out…
That twitchel has an ominous aura, there’s no doubt!.
Down the hill, as far as Elmswood Gardens, then right…
And alongst it. I plodded towards the traffic light…
Mansfield Road road, the spending did start!
Too early for the Dentist, I called into the Wilko store, Laundry booster, Zoflora and Trots tablets… Yes, some more! The tablets were easy to get, four feet from the floor… The booster too high, out of reach, to my displeasure! I ask a lady for help, at her leisure… The Zoflora, bottom shelf, I ended up on the floor! But the ladies laughed and helped me up some more!
Out just in time to get to the Dentist,
They treated me well, although they were pressed…
A new gal training on the reception desk…
I was soon fetched to see the Dentist Oola Bogusz,
As she leant over me, I could sense her firm left bust…
She smiled at me a lot, was I going mad or what?
She and the nurse actually joked with me???
Toothpaste prescription, Something amiss here, just you see!
In no time, I was treated and set free!
I had a funny turn while paying my dues…
Well, I had it when I first joined the queues
These were also patient with me… another ruse?
I have to work this out at home, have a muse…
Why the change? They all usually have a short fuse!
Not many folks about? Most of them had not got facemasks on. Even in the Dentist and Wilko. What’s the matter with them?
Down to the Co-op, to get some cans of their delightful own brand chilli-con-carne… why the tastebuds were salivating at the thought of getting some more cans… But No! The assistant asked the manager for me, and I found that they had stopped stocking this product, Grrr! Gnatwrangles! Damn them! Curses! Flibblegonkackles! Gits! Slobs! Flibblegonkackles! May they go bankrupt! And may whoever it was who decided to stop stocking my beloved cans of Chilli; Get festering, fungal-lesions bursting out slowly all over their body, for at least a full year, before they finally rot away; in absolute agony! Not that it overly bothers me, mind!
Then up to the top of the road to Lloyds Chemist,
Oh, Pharmacy nowadays, sorry, how remiss!
I got the prescription toothpaste from Alice,
Leaving, I trapped my finger in the door…
My Saccades vision is now feeble & poor…
And the left index finger is bloody sore!
Humph!
I got to the bus stop and met Esther, we had a natter, as she was on her way to the flats to do someones cleaning. Nice to see her. We walked through the link passages together – they can’t touch me for that! Hahaha! (Can they?)
Home Sweet Home!
Well, things didn’t go too bad, well, maybe… erm… either way, I did enjoy the getting out of the flat bit. Although it cost me a lot of dosh, a little blood, frustration and had moments of utter confusion… that’s life, you see… Well, it is for me!
My Route Taken
Yellow on foot – Purple on the bus.
I unloaded the bits of stuff purchased. Of course, there would have been more; had the lousy, stinking, crap-ridden, overcharging, dog-breath, Klunglefrazzled Co-op had some their ‘Honest Value’ Chili-Con Carnie to sell me. But never mind. Shit!
I soon settled into a routine that matched the rest of the day, Drinking spring water, tea and a pee; what a thirst I’d got on me, I may not have been contented, but not depressed, exactly, I started the mammoth task of doing this blog artistically! In between blogging, I even had two callers, socially! A lovely carer to drop off a Christmas card, nice & early.
Even got a phone call from the Doctors surgery, Wanting to arrange a booster shot for me… I explained I’m having it done at the chemist this Saturday, Adding, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway… Why is that? she did say, ‘For medical, the yearly…’ No, you’re not booked in, evidently? I’ll check, hang on, she said wearily… I’ve got it on my calendar, my dearie? Have I got it wrong again? Am I illusory? Nothing on our records, she added hastily… Oh, a free day for me then, that’s satisfactory… Maybe I can have a hassle-free day? Yes, well, I’ll see, you may be hearing again from me?
The feet, after not wearing socks for months, continuous…
Felt okay, but the legs were feeling somewhat lethiferous,
So, I wound up the trouser legs, oh, the fuss…
What a change to earlier ones, more flush,
Still swollen, at the top, but fatter lower down?
Will the fluid flow with a gush?
Will things spurt in a rush?
Will the legs turn to a sodden mush?
Will the world, these limbs discuss?
Will the cause be revealed, as dracunculus?
Look what I found in the middle of the kitchen floor!
A rock hard escapee garden pea, what is more…
The miracle is, how I hadn’t noticed it before?
Has my eyesight, really got that poor?
Am I going potty? I’m not sure…
Camera Out – Balcony Utilised!
To take some snaps of the wonderful view.
The amazing sky, shown in the first two…
In a couple of shots of Chestnut walk, you won’t see any queue,
The place is sparse of people. what can I do?
Are they all inside, eating sausages, fish or making a fondue?
Mayhap some are trying on their Christmas tutu?
Or on holiday in Bulwell, Cardiff or Timbuktu?
Perhaps absent, gone off on a romantic rendezvous?
It’s possible a few could be feeling sozzled or blue?
Out buying food, but the panic buyers are in the queue?
Or in town, with their free bus passes to renew?
I’d speculate more; if only I knew…
Where they have all gone, what are they up to?
Ah, gorrit! Christmas! They’ll be making their homebrew!
Well, I’d better get some food – salad or a stew?
No, vegetarian sausages and root potatoes… that’ll do,
I’ll take a photo of it later, just for you to have a peekaboo!
Worra Nosh!
Vegetarian! Royal grown potatoes, root vegetable mash, tomatoes, Nigerian podded peas, Veggie sausages, cheese and bean pastie, with orange jelly and spray cream for dessert!
Taste Rating: 7.9/10 – Delicious!
Part of ‘The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe In Rhyme’
To all my thousands of fans throughout the world, I wish you all good fortune, fun, festivities, euphoria and future financial prosperity! (To both of you!)
This semi-political Local News Snippets Report,
Is unsuitable for any laughter-unliking spoilsport,
But suitable for anyone liking jolly fun and rapport!
With comments that offer humour in their retort…
This way, cause Inchies taking Morphine and Ocu-Cort®,
With Prednisone® and Methylprednisolone in support…
I must remind him of his next visit to court!
Well, not good news to view,
Wearing a face mask… are you?
We’ve been told that we should do!
No? Well, then you bloody-well ought to!
New cases in Nottingham. The last 7 days is 1305!
How many of them in a week will still be alive?
Not wearing a mask? How many lives will you deprive?
By permitting the new Omicron bug to thrive?
Anti-maskers?… Time for firmer punishments to arrive!
Seems to me that Tories defunding the Constabulary, And increasing the pretend policemen auxiliary… Has increased the amounts of muggings and burglary, And their success in convictions has dropped, similarly, By their softly-softly approach and being conciliary, And poor Ethsham Ul Hag Ghafoor’s heartbroken family
Has owt gone more warped, diseased than Joe Public?
Shoplifting, driving with no insurance, licence, dogmatic?
More murders, stabbings, muggins, they go at it,
Youngsters mope around, cunningly looking apathetic,
More morons on, than off drugs, and antisemitic,
Yet ready to fight anyone else who’s anti-Islamic?
Gobby, and leery to the point of being semantic,
Yet they unhappily don’t stop acting demagogic?
No desires to learn and be semasiologic,
They take any drug they can steal, but just a tick…
They could get from, say, mushrooms a similar kick?
And get them free from the wood – the type that is magic!
I know I don’t get out much nowadays,
And when I do, I get the shakes and mind haze,
Or fall over and put me in a daze…
For months now, and this may amaze…
I’ve not seen a uniformed policeman in over 120 days!
Shithead!
The gal was just going for some milk & bread,
But she had to meet with this druggy instead!
Who bashed her about her head…
Threatened her with a knife, it’s been accredited…
Said he’d burn her face, that already bled…
He should be taken quietly to an allotment shed…
And hopefully, they’ll find his mangled body later – Dead!
I thought wearing a mask was to prevent you from passing it on?
But who knows with this new Corona strain, Omicron?
To me, it’s sensible to put a facemask on?
Has all compassion and caring now gone?
It matters not where it came from, China, Africa or Saigon…
Proof again, humans have less compassion than a Klingon!
This one (Statement) must have taken a lot of working out,
I imagined they would come up with some cringing words…
Two days it took the get it out…
This is what they said…
Shit, I can’t find it now! That wasn’t the statement, Hehehe!
Well, well, well!
Did you see that they used a photo of two Police Officers…
In Nottingham? Note he is wearing short sleeves? It must have been summer when they took this photograph. Cause, apart from when the Muslims, Black Lives Matter, Anti-Face maskers, National Front (UK), Student Demands, and any other protest group are protesting in Nottingham. I have not seen any officers for months now in the City Centre. Plenty of shoplifters, muggers, beggars, rough sleepers and the likes, though.
And I’ve got appointments not to be missed…
The Doctors, I mustn’t get a brain-fog, for the phlebotomist,
Then I’ve to go for my virus booster at the local chemist,
Got some forms to fill in with the Doctors receptionist…
Ah, and the scary, gonna hurt a lot visit to the Dentist!
Make an appointment about the Saccades at the optometrist,
January, the Deep Vein Thrombosis, and the cardiologist!…
This could happen to anyone…
Shaving and getting bloody kneed,
Peripheral Pete’s fault; Is that agreed?
Well, I dropped a razor, grabbed at it…
Never mind, you wouldn’t have believed…
The mess I got in, bloody indeed…
It’s a new body and brain that I need!
A few years ago, before the onset of the awful Coronavirus onslaught and his latest disabilities, Inchcock used to get out and about. To feed his beloved Mallard Ducks at Arno Hill Park Lake. Taking the safe to feed them pellets and seeds, the old fart was in his element. He was even attempting to learn the quacking language from the Mallards! It gave him someone to talk to, not any humans, naturally.
So looking forward to his day out, he rose early to ensure everything was done and readied on time for him to catch the bus. Took a while to find his keys and bus pass. It did not go well…
——————————————————————————————
05:00hrs: He woke and was soon up and getting on, carefully carrying out his essential ablutionalisationings. Really, he should have got the message and not bothered to go out today. Things did not go too well!
One of his top front teeth cracked, cleaning them. The traditional cut shaving, well, three actually. Nasal cleaner bottle dropped and broken. Banged his head on the sink when he dropped a razor as he bent to pick it up. Little Inchies fungal lesion started bleeding in the shower.
A late dizzy spell, and he cracked his shoulder on the shower-power box. Things were not going well!
Medicationalisationing the fungal lesion on Little Inchie was particularly painful and brought a few naughty words from the old chap. When after thinking he’s won, the bleeding started again, he cursed with an unexpected venom! He forgot to turn of the heater in the wet room. Going back in to use the Porcelain Throne later, he realised when thereat hit him as he entered the room – stubbing his toe against the creases, feared sock-Glide-Glenda. Things were not going very well!.
However, being used to these many Whoopsiedangleplops and the more frequent Accifauxpas, he soon felt his old chirpy self again after stopping the bleeding and taking his medications. Then he hoovered the mess up. Not looking very good for today?
He put the computer on to check the times of the buses. But Virgin Media and Liberty-Global top dog Mike Fries had failed yet again.
As Inchcock got everything he hoped together and was moving into the hallway on his way to the door… the wheel fell off of his Walker-guide trolley!
Unfazed, Inchcock retrieved the fallen wheel, and as he picked it up, it somehow morphed into about ten or twelve pieces, then fell on the newly hoovered carpet! Now he was fazed!
He’d missed the bus, of course. Spent the hour swearing, cursing and picking up the bits from the wheel. But it takes a lot to completely destroy Inchcocks spirit. He decided to walk without the guide (having no choice if he was to visit and gossip with his mallards). He set off, full of renewed anticipation for an enjoyable trip on the L9 bus and getting some pleasure from mother nature and the mallard ducks.
A note on the bus stop pole pointed out that service will not be operating today due to roadworks. Back to normal tomorrow. Not a good start this!
Inchie dropped back down into a sort of semi-moroseness, tinged with a high degree of pissed-offeredness! The clot thought perhaps he could go to the Nottingham canal to feed the birds, like the previous week? Then it clicked in; the fool would still not have a bus to use to get there either! What an absolute moron! Things were getting to him, now – Not good!
A Dizzy Dennis visited while he was pondering what to do – followed by a worryingly strong ‘Mind-Fog’, and he sat down on the bus shelter and went into a few minutes of daydreaming mode.
Finally, making up his mind. He’ll climb up the steep gravel footpath into the Woodthorpe Grange Park and have a search to see if he can see any of the wild ducks and hens that frequent it. Mayhaps he thought, I can visit the garden centre as well. Cheered a smidge now, he set off up the hill and began to peruse the woods and paths. But no signs of any wold life, the wasn’t many humans either, but that didn’t bother him.
He legged it down the avenue to the Garden Centre and Tropical Plant House. It was closed! This was not a good day for the old codger, and an iota of self-pity was brewing!
He hobbled around painfully as Arthur Itis kicked off in both knees. Resolutely searching for the wildlife birds. Of course, he had no luck, well, no good luck! Now lousy luck… that was in good supply, and about to get crueller, too!
His Nokia 100 virtually antique mobile phone burst into life, and he dropped it as he fumbled to get at it before it stopped ringing. He didn’t! He fell as he bent to pick it up, fortunately landing in some unstinging nettle bushes, which also cushioned the belly flop fall, right on the epigastrium coeliac plexus (I looked that up to sound clever, Hehe!) which started off Reflux Roger along with Arthur Itis. He had to crawl on all-fours to get to a tree stump, to haul his overweight, blubbery, lardaceous, wobbly-bellied body, back up onto its feet. Cutting his shins as he progressed. It was now a worserer day than ever for the pitiful old goat!
Now, almost a physical and mental wreck, he decided to make for home. Thinking he’d take a shortcut via Winchester Street, as all the aged-whimp wanted, was to get back to the flat, take some painkillers, use the Porcelain Throne, clean up his injuries, and make a good strong brew of Glengettie tea, with dunked shortcake biscuits!
Hahaha! Of course, his plans were stymied; they always are!
The road was blocked off – he might have worked it out earlier when he read the cancelled bus notice, but there you are. To make things worse, it started to rain, and his brolly was still in his broken-wheeled walker-guide trolley back in the flat! Thick as a plank, Inchie!
He did resist crying, but only just. After taking a marathon walk around the park again, he arrived at the lobby doors, wet, in pain, miserable, bloodied, and totally discouraged with life! He’d fought his way through the woods, bushes, rain, the end car park and back to the flats. Showing worrying signs of losing it… Jabbering on to himself and having a distinct twitch in his right eye now… not to mention his trousers being so wet and heavy, his braces were not holding them up far enough.
Once Inchie got inside the dry and warm lobby, the lad immediately began to cheer up a little! History should have told him not to bother!
Residents had gathered in the lift lobby – in vain hopes of one of them working. This just shows not only the stupidity but the banality and hopelessness of Inchcock’s everyday existence! Of course, with the day has been going so wrong, he should have known better than to allow thoughts of semi-contentment and hopes to rise.
Yet astoundingly, the dripping wet, frustrated, injured Inchie wasted no time in legging it limpingly, painfully slowly, up the 24 flights of concert stairs, towards his flat. (Desperate measures call for desperate actions!) He was urgently in need of the Porcelain Throne!
At the flat door, he fumbled about, still dripping wet; he gained access and almost bounced off of the walls in his rush to the Porcelain Throne. Whipped off his wet trousers and protection pants and plonked himself down on the pan… the evacuation began immediately, and it was all over within about a minute. Inchy just sat there, breathing a sigh of relief. Which was tempered by the cleaning up and medicating that needed doing next.
The wet (possibly 85% rainwater – 14% wee-wee, and 1% blood?) PP’s first, they had to be rung out, packed up in plastic bags to later go to the waste chute.
Unbeknownst to Inchcock, Little Inchies fungal lesion had burst open in the tumble he presumes. So that was medicated straight away. The neighbours always know when the Betamethasone cream is applied to the fungal lesion, the loud Argh, and Bloody hells give it away. Inchies day is just not getting any better, is it?
New PPs on, Piles of clothes into the laundry box. Rubbish bags were taken away.
He found a letter that had been delivered when he returned from taking the waste bags to the chute. It was confirmation from the Council that I am not going to get any attendance allowance. This really rubbed it in for Inchie – Hence his day continued in its ‘Let’s Annoy Inchcock Mode!
Too weary for making and eating any food, Inchie got down in his £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly-beige-coloured, not-working, rickety, incommodious, grotty recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus.
He was still waiting for sleep or at least rest of some sort, about two hours later.
Some thunderclap music from the yobboes on Woodthorpe Park having a party started up. Heavy Metal brand, Inchie thinks.
So he got up and went on the computer to start tomorrows blog off…
00:30hrs: I woke with a start again, and lay trying not to hear the ‘Hum’ outside, or to the new droning sound inside, we think is coming from the machinery on the rooftop in the plant-room. (That’s because it keeps stopping for five minutes or so, then kicks back in) A most annoying noise to wake up to today, two flaming humming-like susurrations, outside and inside at the same time! Globbleaurgh!
I bounded out of the luxury Snuggle-Up, £950, brand new, recliner, and nipped smartly to the £95 overnight-elderly-persons Marks & Spencer’s Chamber Pot, for a wee-wee…
Oh, alright, then… I struggled out of the grotty, £300, second-hand, c1968, unsteady, not-working, sickenly beige-coloured, haemorrhoid-testing recliner, cracked my right knee on the ottoman, felt back down in the chair and Harold’s Haemorrhoids – swore silently, gritted my teeth and got back up again. Hobbled to the OEGPB (Overnight, emergency, grey, plastic, bucket), and had a wee-wee of the PSST (Persistent, Stinging, Sharp) mode.
Seeing the medications that arrived last night, I had a nosey at them.
Being in a more stable frame of mind and more awake than when they were delivered, I think what the young lady who delivered them said, she needed to collect the medications sent earlier without any seals on them. I will ring Obergruppenfurheress and catwalk model, Warden Deana later, to ask her to ring the chemist for me, so I know what to do. I can’t believe that they want the tablets that shot out all over two room back? Then again, Matron did tell me to return them to the pharmacist? I think!
Then I realised that instead of the Dioctyl® poo-softener capsules I’d asked for, they had delivered Docusate Sodium, in a medicine form. Excellent thinking that was from Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, next to the pub, near the Lidl store, and my Doctor for prescribing medicine. That needs me, to pour out into short plastic three 5ml spoons of the medicine, three times a day! A shame they both forgot about my, Nicolas’s neurotransmitters dying, the Peripheral Neuropathy, and Peripheral Pete’s right leg dances! This is not going to work, I’ll have more medicine on the floor, my clothes, and if the involuntary Schuplatter dancing starts while I’m trying to take the medication (six times a day) the bottle is going to get dropped and smashed for sure! I can avoid any problems for a while, cause I still have some of the capsules in the pot to use for a couple or three days – then things should get interesting? Dangerous, mind!
But credit where it is due. The Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA. Tel: 0115 9605453, are nothing if not consistent in their desire to kill me off, one way or another. At least their man who dispenses the prescriptions is. They delivered the things for me, so they aren’t all bad, bless em!
Fair enough, they didn’t put the seals on of the two trays… nobodies perfect. Nemo Mortaluim Omnibus Horis Sapit!
I took the medications, then got the Health checks done. I started with the blood pressure, the SYS had was not too bad a result.
The temperature was spot on!
I must remember to ring Deana and ask for assistance with the phoning, maybe after I get the ablutions all done.
The rain began to come down as the mist slowly cleared away.
As I got on the computer, the summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so off to the wet-room, I trudged. The ailments were being kind with me up to now.
I thought I might have grown hair again on my head, it took so long to get any moment started! The crossword book was utilised. I even considered giving up and trying again later… Ah, painful, very painful, but the evacuation started… It took a few minutes of effort and a few. Oooh, argh’s, but at last, things picked up the pace! Well, it looks like an easy victory in the DESB (Daily-Evacuation-Stakes-Battle) for Constipation Konrad today, over Trotsky Terence. I made sure afterwards, that the Dyoctyl® poo-softener was in the afternoon tablet box ready, in fact, the session was so bad, I put two in there.
Cleaned up, and back to the computer, to make a graphic for later use, but I got diverted (I do that a lot yer knows) when I saw the email news come in, and I had a decker at it. I copied this graph of the Nottingham areas affected.
Then it was time for the Ablutioning Session to be done.
I rang Deana; first, she said she’ll be coming to see me later on, after 11:00hrs. She had a meeting to go to first. I thanked her and made a bee-line for the wet-room/
Getting ready to do the teggies, and I noticed that the growths, blotches and even the papules that were on the left arm yesterday, had all but gone now! Amazing!
The teeth cleaning had few electric-like stabs of pain, as I caught the cracked tooth that the dentist told me were nothing to worry, as she rushed me out of her surgery a couple of weeks ago. They hated me (My high EQ could tell), cause I couldn’t get up the two flights of stairs to my regular dentist to be treated, mind you, he ain’t all that keen on me, either. Tsk!) I digress again, sorry!
The shaving, especially considering that I hadn’t shaved yesterday, went blooming great. Only one little nick and three-dropsies! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
The showering had a couple of dodgy moments, but I’ve far worse, no I’m not complaining. They were, decent clout against the grab rail, and I hit the ankle ulcer area on the shower-chair leg.
The drying was had no, I say, No, knock-overs! (A smile developing!) As for the medicationalisationing, only poor Harolds Haemorrhoids ointmentating actually hurt. Although the ankle looked a bit battered? But I had given it a good knock when showering, so, fair do’s. It seemed to have changed colour, and the scratch marks too? No pain or soreness, mind you? All so confusing!
It worries me when things go well, it’s unnatural!
Back to the updating of this blog.
And both door chimes rang out. Oberstgruppenfuhreress and desk-top dancer, highly desirable Warden & ILC Deana appeared in the room.
She soon sorted things out for me. The Chemist said to hand the two trays back undamaged packs back to him on the next delivery. But of course, I’d started one, so only that can one can be returned. He’s not replied to my email anyway.
She patched up the fallen curtains for me in the main room and recommended the Apollo shop in Sherwood to get my curtains from. I need some for the kitchen and front room. I’ll give them a go.
Made my mind up, bacon and beans for my nosh. The milk roll bread with it methinks, but first, I must make up a template for tomorrow. Here I go… Hehehe!
Got the meal cooking things ready to start, and checked the leaflet from Nottingham City Homes. A little confusing.
I’ve got to phone them to book an upgrade in the kitchen and bathroom? I think.
The landline flashed, it was Hristina, the lovely vampire nurse, to tell me she will be calling on Monday twixt 8>10:00hrs, bless her cotton socks. I think they’ve made it earlier this week, with the INR level being so low?
Being so tired, I couldn’t appreciate the meal as I might have, but I still gave it a 7/10 for flavour and taste. The bacon was the Iceland brand ‘Seasonally Seasoned’ streaky bacon. It was almost paper-thin but tasty enough for once. The beans and vegetarian sausages were not bad. The Sainsburys pork & pickle pies were fine, not as tasty as the Iceland ones. The milk roll loaf bread and the lemon yoghourt were gorgeous! I dropped the things in the bowel to soak, had a weak wee-wee.
I was in the arms of sweet Morpheous within minutes of getting down in the recliner. The dreams began, I woke with a start, and well miffed, at not remembering much about the dreams, just a feeling that they were good? Clobblechops! I drifted back into the land of nod, determined to get back to whatever it was I was nocturnally enjoying previously – of course, I couldn’t and failed. I’m pretty good at failing, as well!
13th September 1959: The first man-made Object (Luna 2) reaches the Moon!
About an hour after getting down to sleep, I woke to see the colourfulness and the brightness of the night coming through the thin, tatty, old, raggedy, multi-holed curtains. I could not resist fighting my way out of the recliner to take a photo of it. Lovely!
Around 00:50hrs, I woke again, in need of a wee-wee, and struggled to the OGPEB (Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket), and struggled to pass what was maybe 2 or 3 fluid-ounces, over the next five minutes or so! Yes, another RSHH (Reluctant, Sprinkling-Half-Hearted) wee-wee! Hobbled to wash my hands, and then I got back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, cringingly beige-coloured, unkempt, fluctuant, ramshackle, non-operational, uncomfortable, dusty, rusty, decaying, tatterdemalion, heavy yet tottery and unbalanced, positively-dangerous to use, rickety recliner, I soon nodded off again, which was pleasant and a change.
02:10hrs: I stirred into mock-life again, wanting another wee-wee. This time, catching my balance as I grabbed the stick, was a little more difficult, I’ve no idea why, but I got the bucket in time. It was an RSHH mode again, but with far less pain. The Post-Micturition After Dribble lasted much longer than the main event did. Drip-drip, dribble, wait, sprinkle, drip… Tsk!
I could sense that things in the wee-weeing department were going to continue in the little-and-often style, so I emptied and sanitised the OGPEB, disinfected it and returned it to the computer room for later use. (And believe me, it saw plenty of action!). I’ll try to resist mentioning too many of them, it may sound too dull, but to me they were annoying. Each one was of deep luteous shade.
I remembered (Miracles do happen, then? Hahaha!) that the Falls-Team arranged delivery of a new walking frame was due to arrive today. So I got with doing the Health Checks sharpishly. The flipping SYS is still high!
The temperature, using the stick thermometer was the highest its been in many a month!
But that’s a good thing, I think anyway? I don’t think its too high at all.
I took a photo of the tablet trays, to show you how it is so easy to make a mistake in taking them. Although these pods were designed, to make it easier for we slightly more mature dodderers, and cut back on such errors. As you can see, the pills are all over the placed, many stuck under the covers, and others had moved into another compartment altogether! Many were stuck on the glue, others by the static electricity in the packaging. When they were first introduced, they told me they’d be fool-proof as well! Hah!
Obviously, they had forgotten about the well known locally ‘Special Skills’ of Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up Mansfield Road, from the Lidl store.
I’d no idea what time of day the frame might come, so I got on with updating the Saturday post. Got it completed and Pinterested some snaps from it. Went on Facebook updating, then the same with the WordPress Reader. Emailed the link, and made a brew of Glengettie Gold.
I closed down Computer Cameron and got some hand-washing done, before doing the ablutions. The old oven grabbers were washed with the other stuff. I’ve still got the new gloves, but these although hard to clean, easy to dirty, and very old and tatty (a bit my me really, Hahaha!), they’re more effective and easier to hold onto when Shaking Shaun or Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters play up.
I had a bit of spontaneous breakfast after the washing was done, wrung and hung—cheese biscuits and a pot noodle, and off to the wet room for a scrubbing-up.
I needed a Porcelain Throne visit first. One of the easiest for a long time. Yee-Ha! Still painful, of course, but so much quicker than even yesterday’s was! A bit of blood, a smidge messy. Needed cleaning up before I took a shower, Haha!
But would the cistern clear things? No! I needed to hand-fill the tank a couple of times, and still, some bits were floating even then? Aggravannoying!
The ablutions were miraculously incident-free again! Not much bother from Toothache Terence, only one dropsy of the toothpaste tube! The shaving produced only two little nicks that did not bleed much at all. Doing the showering and only one mini-dizzy-spell, and three dropsies! Drying off went well, too!
Ah, well, the medicationalisation didn’t go as smoothly, I’m afraid. I thought that the rear-end furuncle was clearing up yesterday, I was wrong, and applied the ointment a little too roughly, and the blood flowed! So had to apply some Dakacort cream to get it to stop! I cunningly did this in the shower area and then sprayed-away the resulting blood flow mess using the shower-head. (Smart, eh? Smug-Mode-Adopted!) Harold’s Haemorrhoid’s done with the Germoloid cream, and Arthur Itis’s knees and hands with the Phorpain Gel. I felt rather good about how I coped these problems!
The leg ulcer, or Clopidogrel allergy markings, had spread-out but got fainter, and some new ones appeared on top of the right foot, below the base of the toes. The fresh ones looked like freckles. Ah, well, it stops me getting bored, Hehehe!
I got the new PPs on, a pair of trousers, and the maroon zip-up shirt. The Sock-glide was given a sneer of contempt, as I left the wet-room.
Because I was not wearing any socks, and the vicious, finger bruising and crushing monstrosity, was again, not going to be used, and my digits and legs put at risk of injury once more! Not that it scares me, of course! Oh, no!
Then, I set-too making up some black waste bags, and put the Floor-Voting paper on them, so as not to forget to take them with me on the way out with the bags, to the Rubbish chute, and take the voting paper down to the lobby.
I got a face-mask on, and the items were carried by hand, using only the wooden walking -stick. For some unknown reason, at that time, I felt in a rather panurgic, ready-for-anything mood? Yes, it confused and baffled me as, why as well!
By the time I’d got out, and to the chute-room, unfortunately, things had changed quickly. I was all over the place with the walking stick, and must have appeared drunk to anyone who might have seen me? The old balance had gone to pot again. I got the bags in the chute alright though.
Then clouted my right elbow against the door frame, on the way out of the room! A spot of turbidity in the brain as I waited for the lift down to the ground-floor lobby. By the time I’d got down to the ground floor, and into the main hall, my balance was a lot better, and the foggy-brain seemed to be clearing. What’s going on here?
I posted the floor colouring preferences sheet into the ballot box.
And again, with a renewed physical and mentally settled state, I got the lift back up to the flat.
Where, perversely, the semiobscurity returned to the brain and vagueness, a lack of concentration came over me. My memories of getting Josie’s meal prepared is a bit sketchy. I discovered later on that I’d forgotten to photograph it, yet everything from when I wheeled it to Josie’s door, is crystal-clear? We chatted a short while, and I returned to the flat’s kitchen to get the cleaning up done.
I was doing well again, and then almost flaked out. My body and mind told me to get down in the chair, and stay there; I checked that I had on Medical Alert Alarm wristlet, which I did. And I immediately nodded of fitfully. I kept on waking up with the sunshine coming through the thin, decrepit, holed, curtains. But, nodded back off almost straight away each time. I suddenly jumped awake, and felt a different person, back to my old self? I’ll put this on the questionnaire when it comes from the hospital.
But I was feeling fine, and got up to check on the potatoes in the slow-cooker, made a brew of Glengettie Gold tea, and got the computer back on to update this blog. And Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters, and SSS (Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley), were both being good to me! I couldn’t understand what had happened, but I was so happy that things had returned to semi-normal. Obviously, now a scepticism and uncertainty remained, a sort of fear that it might happen all over again. Whatever the heck it was?
The door chimes rang out. It was an NHS chappie, delivering the new narrower walker for me. He was in a rush, my EQ picked up on that. I remembered what Nurse Caroline had told me about not doing anything with it when it is delivered until she calls again on Wednesday. So I put it with the spare three-wheeler on the balcony. I never thought I’d use one of these! It was wider than I expected, and I didn’t cope very well with it, putting it on the veranda, at all.
Updated this blog again, and it is now hours beyond my usual head-down time.
But the need for some Diary TFZer top graphics is urgent, so I moved onto CorelDraw.
Decided to make another brew first, straight Glengettie this time.
Then took a snap of the sunshine, and returned to CorelDrawing at last.
I only got one graphic done, (Tsk!), and made the template for tomorrows, and the got the fodder sorted out. Better late than never!
Battered fish strips, slow-cooked potatoes halved, and a bit of butter and onion-salt sprinkled on them. Garden peas, and some of the delightful baby Piccalo tomatoes. A pot of raspberry ripple mousse from the freezer, thawed out as I as the meal, nicely!
Tired-out now, but I stayed alert enough to enjoy this feast. Deserving of a Flavour-Rating of 8/10.
Went to get the meal things soaking in washing up bowl, and took this photograph of the evening’s view.
Having been up for over 20 hours or so, and in a state of weariness that was high, even for me, I felt so sure that I’d nod-off within minutes of getting my head down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, puke-making beige coloured recliner. It was not to be!
Sweet Morpheous did eventually arrive, but it was gone midnight by then! At least I got around four hours of deep-sleep in, before waking up in urgent need of a wee-wee and the Porcelain Throne. Ah, well, TTFN!
03:30hrs: I came to my limited warped senses, with only one aim, that was to get to the Porcelain Throne, pronto! I extracted my wobbly, overly-bellied body from the £300, second-hand, c1968 rickety recliner, caught my balance, grabbed Metal Mickey. Then I proceeded to do a slow-motion imitation of a John Cleese walk, desperate to hold back any anticipated escapages en route to the wet-room! I thought I’d succeeded!
I whipped down the PPs and got settled down sharpishly on the raised seat, There followed one of the most horrendous evacuations I’ve ever had. Sadly!
The painful motion began of its own accord, the grindingly slow, pleonastic event went on and on… Argh! After what felt like an hour or so, (but was only a few minutes), the final push I had to make to encourage things along, was agony, but necessary. A few seconds to recover, and I stood up gingerly and found that much blood had flowed, in amongst the pebble-like evacuated product. And paradoxically, during the mass evacuation, I took no less than three wee-wees! But worse of all, some of the pebbles were on the floor around where I stood! So all my best efforts to avoid this happening came to nothing!
A good clean up, medicationing, and antisepticalisationing took place. During which, I caught Metal Mickey with my foot, and he came down straight onto my left foot toes! I was worried about the noise the calamity had made, hope it didn’t bother anyone!
Of course, I wasn’t bothered at all. I took it nonchalantly and in my stride. Pain means nothing to me, Ahem! However, the embarrassment flowed thickly!
I hobbled to the kitchenette, and needed another wee-wee! I can’t keep mention this, but it kept on all morning, every wee was of the SSP (Short-Sharp-Painless) type, and, peculiarly, with no pre or after Micturition dribbling. Not a good start to the day, but my EQ insisted things will improve, that’ll do me if he’s right!
I took a snap of the morning view, then got the kettle on the boil, and retrieved the BP sphygmomanometer from the third-down medical drawer.
The Sys is still a bit high, and the pulse rate was up – this is possibly due to the nightmare evacuation farce on the Throne, and all the upset of the proceedings, methinks?
Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and took the medications. Then off to Computer Cameron, and made up a template. Then updated the Friday Inchcock, which, after the horrendous start to the day, went almost smoothly. Oh, Yes! The ailments were all, apart from Toothache Terence and Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, being kind to me! A long job, but I completed it in record time. Smug-Mode-Utilised!
As I got up to go for yet another SSP wee-wee. Coming back, I spotted the card posted Thursday, had dropped between the chairs. I got the long picker-upperer and retrieved, and opened it. It was from Warden Deana, bless her.
I got the blog sent off to WordPress, Pinterested some photos from it, and made a start on this post.
After an hour or two, and many wee-wees, I went to make another brew, Thompsons Punjabi. I got some new potatoes in the crockpot, to marinate, with sea salt, and some fish vinegar for a while, I’ll put the hear on later.
Took the tea, and returned to Computer Cameron, but not for long, Toothache Terence was starting his searing with pain again, so back to the kitchen for an extra Codeine.
I visited Facebook and read and posted some stuff. Then went on the WordPress Reader section. Time’s flown, I’d better get the ablutions done. Back in a bit…
I’m back! Not as easy a session as yesterday, but that was a miraculously damage-fee special one-off session. Back to a closer to the norm performance today. Hehehe!
ABLUTIONALISATIONING SESSION REPORT
––etc. And then ––! Tsk!
On arriving in the wet room, the need for another Porcelain Session came. And a painful one it was! But far easier than the first one all the same.
Oh, dearie me! The cistern was not coping with removing the waste product! I had the lid off and kept flushing and refilling via a jug from the sink. I poked in the inlet pipe, and found it part-blocked with the toilet block seals? I gave up after that, I’ll have another go later on. Gragnangles!
Too early to use the shower, too noisy. So I cleaned and medicated my lower regions, but gave up trying to stop Harold’s Haemorrhoids from bleeding, I’ll try after having the stand-up wash. When I can concentrate easier. Flagtoggles!
Pickleglobknobs! The teeth cleaning was a nightmare, well, morningmare, bleeding gums, agony from the toothache, and four dropsies of the paste and brush!
The one job, shaving, did frit me a tad. Yet it went so well, only twp dropsies of the razors, and one of the foam spray. And, only one tiny cut above ear-hole. It always amazes me, why does my hair grow around and in the earholes, but nowhere else? Just a thought. Confusionableitis!
Cleaning around the rear end caused a few stings from the furuncles and piles. Ohh-oh-ho!
The dreaded medicationalising, was as to be expected, hurtful! Hahaha!
When it came to putting on the fresh PP’s, I lost my balance a smidge, I didn’t go over though. Instead, I put my hand out on the floor cabinet to stop myself toppling. Thus clearing just about everything you can see in this photograph! Grobbleknangles!
Note the screws up Haemorrhoidcream tub? When picking things up, I dropped that one three times! On the third effort, it bounced off of the raised seat, on to the wall, and rebounded landing behind the pipework! Grigglebogsblowit! Took me a lot of effort to reach it with the short picker-upperer (Donated to me by Jenny, Bless her ♥), and I had to knock the cartilage damaged finger getting it!
Then I had a bash at freeing the waste product. More flushes, and prodding in the hole. It’s still not all gone, but I’d had lost heart and felt atrabilious. I left it, to try yet again later on.
The feet and legs, as with the rest of the body, was really anæmic looking. Ghostly, infirm, peaky! A few new blotches. Silver-Lining-Search-Result: However, the ankle ulcer continues to slowly fade away.
I got some trousers and my slippers on, and off to the kitchen. The morning was breaking, at last.
I got the kettle on for a mug of Thompsons Punjana.
Set the heat on the crockpot, and put some mushrooms in the saucepan, with some sea salt and balsamic vinegar.
Ah, Herbert’s at his model making again, I reckon. No drilling and hammering this time, just the odd tap-knock and clunk. No problem at the moment.
I had a look at the many emails awaiting my attention. Busy looking time coming up for next week.
The wee-weeing is still coming at a steady rate of knots, about eleven or more so far, I reckon.
I had a perusal of the Nottingham Local E-magazine. To find some of the latest Coronavirus figures available. It took a while, but I managed to get these articles found, that does not look too good.
The cunning way in which they have changed the central figure from total to just new cases make it look far less to worry about.
Yesterday’s figure: Four new infections were recorded in Nottingham – bringing its total up to 1,337. Across the wider county, there have now been 3,366 positive tests confirmed since the start of the pandemic. This is an increase of 10 since yesterday, with Broxtowe recording the highest number of new cases (three) in the last 24 hours. However, there were no new cases reported in either Mansfield or Ashfield, while Bassetlaw, Gedling, and Rushcliffe all recorded two new cases.
I had a look at the leeks, mushrooms, and new potatoes cooking progress. Coming along nicely. Then I went on to create a funny ode on WordPress. Well, that was the plan… but the Prescriptions arrived, Deepak himself delivered them, bless his cotton socks. I thanked him and gave him a bag of goodies for the staff.
I turned off the computer and placed the medicinal items in the kitchen, and got on with making the meal. Another goodish effort and I gave it 7/10 for a Flavour-Rating.
Consumed it with relish, and got the pots washed. The fatigue and weariness dawned on me as I sat down, but would Sweet Morpheus arrive? No!
Put the TV on, in the hopes, this might help. But, no! The danged Thought-Storms began! Confusion, aporias, and incongruities flourished! They produced a sort of habrobaniacal state of mind! Claptickleisations!
00:05hrs. I stirred, strangely I was feeling in somewhat semi-refreshed. I passed wind proliferously, noted that I’d had five wonderful hours of slumber, and unbroken for wee-wees. The ailments all seemed to be on holiday, or strike.
(Not regular this, but very welcome, it’s just a little bit sort of nervous-making when summat goes well for me). Hehe!
I removed my preposterously flabby and bulging-bellied body from the £300, c1968, second-hand, uncomfortable, sickeningly beige-coloured, rickety recliner. Got on my feet, grabbed Metal-Mickey (four-pronged-walking-stick), caught my balance, glasses on, (no hearing aids again, I must try again to get some batteries), and hobbled off for a wee-wee. All with relative ease. No shakes, dizzies, or leg dancing! And the evacuation of the urine was of the PBOCAN (Painless-But-Orange-Coloured-Almost-Normal) variety. I’m getting even more worried now, Haha!
Even more good fortune when I did the Health Checks. (The adoption of a Smug-Mode was considered, but rejected, I don’t want to push my luck, Hehe!) The SYS that was so high yesterday had gone down a fair bit, to 153. The DIA and Pulse were the same as on Thursday.
The medications were imbibed, along with last night’s, that I had somehow forgotten to take. (That’s more like my usual traits!)
The stick-thermometer gave forth a low reading of only 33.3°c. It’s not been this low before?
I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on Computer Cameron, well, switch it on, and then made up a WordPress template for tomorrow. Next, I uploaded the photographs needed to finalise the Thursday Inchcock Today.
I’d no sooner started, and SSS (Shudddering-Shoulder-Shirley) kicked off. This extended the time it took to get the updating finished, and left me with an aching shoulder joint!
But really, I think the real blame for SSS’s antics, was Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing. As the nerve-ends try to make contact with the brain. And they can’t because of the dying distal end of the axon of a nerve fibre has terminated. You can tell I’ve been looking things up on Google again, can’t you? Hehehe!) Owt to make myself sound cleverer! Hehehe!
I persevered and got the dairy updating done. (A hard, painful, frustrating slog, but still) Then I posted the link on Facebook, added some photographs. WP comments answered, and Pinterested picture. Then, off to make a brew.
Kettle on, and tried to get a decent picture of the morning view. I used the Night Panorama option on the Nikon camera selector this time. I was well-pleased with the resulting snap. Very close to how things looked to the eyes. (Swank-Mode-Adopted!)
Made the mug of Thompsons Punjana, and poddled back to Cameron. I viewed the WordPress Reader section. Then tried again to get some graphics done for the Inchcock Today headers.
Sister Jane rang me, sang ‘Happy Birthday to You’, and we had mutual moaning chinwag with the odd laugh creeping in. Hahaha!
Ablutions next: Status of Ablutionalisation Session Results: 8/10 – Great! No-bother with the teeth cleaning (I was meticulous). Shaving: Only once nick and two dropsies! Shower: Four dropsies, but no dizzies, knocking into anything or showerhead dropping!
Medicationalisationing: The furuncles and Harold’s Haemorrhoids creaming, was a little delicate, otherwise, plain sailing! The feet were looking okay, but anaemic!
Amazing how different the ablutioning sessions can be! One of the best this year!
I exited the wet room and found a letter on the floor delivered. On closer inspection, I found it was for a Mr B. Plant. So, that’s a parcel and letter this week wrongly delivered. Hey-ho! I’ll take it down to the office in a bit.
Made a brew of Thompsons Punjana, and made-up an Iceland order for Monday, 09:00>10:00hrs.
I got the black bag made up, to put down the waste chute on the way out, camera in my jacket pocket, and letter in the trolley, and off I poddled! Down in the lift to the ground floor. I noticed that I’d taken the black bag down with me, forgetting to take it to the chute, Tsk! I left it near the recycling bin to collect on my way back from the office.
The nub-ends that I picked up with my picker-upper last week were accumulating again on the grass and pathway. The drizzle looked as if it was trying to come again.
Regarding the black bag; I can’t understand it, you know. How a man such as myself, keen and alert, youthful, dynamic, with such a reliable memory, could have forgotten to do something. Humph!
I hobbled casually along Chestnut Walk, to drop the letter off at the Interrogation office. Seeing the Emergency Ambulance outside Winwood Court, was a little sad. Deana was busy on the phone, so I dropped the wrongly delivered letter on a desk.
I took a photographicalisation of the end of Winwood and Winchester Courts. I waved to a couple of tenants, who were coming back from the bus stop. But there were precious few bodies about for a chin-wag, just a few exchanges and pleasant words can do so much for one’s morale.
The fine drizzle was beginning to fall, so I didn’t go any further, and I made my way back to Woodthorpe Court. Ah, the mysterious wonders of Woodthorpe Court: The Ghosts, Hobgoblins, Boll-Weevils, Aliens, Gremlins, Karakia-cursing entities, Hallucinations. Materialisations, Poltergeist, Lemures, Wairuas, Kehuas, Manifestations that permeate, pass through the pores and interstices of space, through the time-continuum. Usually, without rupture or displacement within the building. To cause havoc, fear and frustration, as they dislodge time itself, in their aspirations and skulduggery, these energumenist to complete their given by Satan mission; ‘To annoy and scare the bejesus, and pants off of the old fart Inchcock’. Just thought I’d mention it, like. I made it back into the flats in time to miss the rain. (More good-luck! Mmm?)
As I got in the foyer, I remembered the black bag I’d left outside near the bins, so I popped out to get wet in the rain and collected it. Put it on the trolley, and made my way up to the twelfth floor.
I popped the small bag into the waste-chute, and trapped my flipping osteoarthritis finger knuckle in the metal cover retrieving my limb! Then caught my ankle on the three-wheeler as I reversed out of the room… again!
It could have been any digit I trapped, but it had to be this one! Cribblesboganagonies
But of course, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. Oh, yes, indeed! I’m made of sterner stuff than to whinge, whine, whimper, or wail at such trivialities. The bleeding should be easy enough to stop. Also no cursing, either!
Ahem, cough!
I got the trolley in through the doorway without any damage or injuries, and I got the kettle on. I’d have put some pain gel on the ankle, but despite my best efforts with Phorpain gelled kitchen towels and the picker-upper being utilised, I ended up with most of the medication on my toes, legs, clothes, and the carpet! Sad, innit? I got the gel on the little finger without any hassle!
I seasoned the potatoes in the crock-pot and turned it to the highest setting.
I got on with creating a graphic again, but I’d had only got one done when Saccades Sandra kicked-off at me! I left the screen, and put the computer into sleep mode, and had a little meander around the flat.
Not easy with only 3 rooms and wet-room to choose from. Hahaha!
I ended up opening on the balcony and opened a window to get some fresh air and take a shot of the end car park. I took the picture, then had to come back in the flat to get the towel to dry myself off. What a nebech! Hehe!
I snapped the next photograph through the closed, left-hand window. The rain was persistent, but not too much wind with it, mind you.
The clouds looked threatening.
When it came time to close the open window, I took extreme care in doing so—many better men than I have had fingers bruised, blood-spotted, and cut, since their installation. I heard of one lady, who had the window fall out and hit her! But that’s being kept quiet, naturally.
I went to check on the spuds, all but ready-cooked now. I’ll have a bash at another TFZer graphic, and close down, get some nosh. So, on I go to CorelDrawing again. Got another illustration done, and then served up the dinner.
An excellent flavour today, I’m so glad I put the fish sauce in the potatoes, it suited this phagomaniac down to the ground. It was savoured and digested with great deglutition. Leaving a well satisfied, almost smug mood lingering within. 9.2/10!
The weariness and fatigue arrived while I was doing the washing up. I got the evening medications taken, had a wash, and got down in the recliner. I put the TV on, to watch a Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmare, not sure if it had started when I drifted off. Zzz!
02:00hrs: I woke up well wanting a wee-wee. Wriggled my ghastly onerously bulky, but wobbly body from the depths of the £300, second-hand, none-working recliner, and with surprising dexterity, I shot off to the wet room (alright, hobbled precariously). The release was of the WOPT (Weak-Orange-Painful-Trickling) mode. (Indeed they were all of this style, all morning, and there were so many of them!)
The poor old uncut toes, nails, and feet looked more gnarled than ever. I swear when I raise my foot, even a few inches, there is pain from under the nails! And I’m forever catching them on something, which is like an electric shock? Tsk!
To the kitchen, and got the kettle on. I know it’s a little earlier than I’ve gotten up for a couple of days, but the mist seemed to be coming down already.
I got the sphygmomanometerisationing done and assembled the medications ready to imbibe. All of the results were down vs yesterday. Including the temperature; that was at 79°c, one down on yesterdays. No, that should be 79°f, surely. The pulse was ten points less. The Sys was five lower, and the Dia was two below. Better, methinks? Note the arithmophobia may mean I got something wrong.
Took the medications, with an extra painkiller, because Toothache Thomas was kicking off again.
Made a brew of Glengettie Gold, and put too much milk in it. So I used another tea bag to strengthen it a bit.
I got on Computer Cameron and went on the emails to check on the Morrison order. They have substituted Saver Garden Peas with Batchelor’s Mushy peas – and it looks like they are charging me for the more expensive unasked for ones? No Morrison Saver marrowfat peas, but they tell me they cannot deliver an alternative. Thank heavens for that. They may well have sent me a grilled Octopus with Ancho Chile Sauce & Noodle ready meal! But, at least they have sent the tissues for Jenny and Frank!
Then I made a start on updating the Sunday post. Finally, I got it finished and had to make some graphics for this diary. Then emailed the link, then went on TFZer and Windwood Heights Facebooking.
I went to make a brew of tea and took another view of the changing mist and fog. It’s getting a bit thicker now. But it didn’t feel too cold as I hung out of the anti-photographer designed, thick-framed, light, and view-blocking new window.
When I returned to the computer to download the photo on it, and this even amazed me: I had to go back to the kitchen, and search for the lens cap for the camera. After many minutes of searching, I returned to the computer area and scanned for the lens cap. This in itself is nothing new and is a frequent, almost several times a day event. I was getting annoyed with myself again. I looked in the wet room and hallway, no luck! Gave up and returned to the computer… the lens cap was on the camera!
I may have had another Blank-Spell, I suppose. But I don’t think so. I can usually read things and know something had happened, not sure what, sometimes mind. But not this time. The actions were all there in the grey-cells. Which in itself is something to be thankful for! Hahaha! I think my brain cells are showing signs of senescence.
Ah-well, it’s time to get the ablutions sorted out. No showering, of course, the noise may disturb the slugabed neighbours. Hehehe!
Well, well, well, one of the bestest ever ablutionary session for months! (Apart from a toe-stubbing against the shower chair as I moved it!)Not a single dropsy of the toothbrush or paste, soap or razors. Smug-Mode-Instigated! But I could have done without the toe-stubbing bit.
I got the bags made up for the recycling and waste chute, but with the deliveries being expected, I shall not take them out until after both have been delivered. Don’t want to miss them.
The mist is lifting a bit, I think?
O got on with this blog starting, and made a mug of Thompsons Punjana tea, much more of a bite to it than Glengettie Gold, but not as much as plain Glengettie. Confusing innit?
The intercom rang out, and I heard it well enough. T’was the much uptight Morrison delivery driver. With all the isolationists and their own worries about Coronavirus, this is only to be expected, the pressure on the lads and lasses much be extreme nowadays.
The lad left the bags near the door. I thanked him and slipped him a G&T. Off he raced.
Now, this is when my mood and physically improved status went down, ♫Way-Down!♫. On my first bend to collect a couple of the carriers, Back-Pain-Brenda gave me shocks of pains that have not cleared up yet (three-hours later!) Every slight bend or twist in the torso, brings forth knife-like stabbing pains I could do well without! I dare not take any more pain-killers, having already taken one extra to counter Toothache Thomas! Grunglegrogs!
Gingerly, I got the bags into the kitchen one at a time. Sorted out the tissues for Jenny, then got the other stuff checked and put away. It took me a lot of time, at one point I got down to put the chips in the freezer, and the back pain was so bad, I had to stay in that position for a while, and wait for it to ease-off before I dare get back upright again. Hey-ho! Got it all sorted, in the end. And back to Computer Cameron.
The Amazon folks had sent another email with a revised ETA.
I pressed on with doing this diary. Until at least I thought that I needed the Porcelain Throne activities.
But no! I sat there for ages, doing my best to encourage the evacuation.
I had a go at the crossword puzzle. (I got a couple solved as well. Mind you, I was at it for ages, but no signs of any movement)
Not doing a lot of anything, I noticed the legs were an odd shade this morning. I didn’t see it earlier? When it came to standing up, I was wary of not catching the toes on anything. Anyroad, the pins may be a bit blotchier and anaemic. Still, the Clopidogrel allergy lumps, the spider veins, and the Thrombophlebitis give them an appearance, that Tim Price thought, some Art Gallery would like to display. Hahaha! I think the odd colouring in the leg picture, is down to my lack of photographic skills, in reality, they were not so vivid.
Moved onto CorelDrawing. Managed to get a few graphics done.
Jenny emailed me. Checked the Amazon tracker. The progress graph has no moved at all, and the ETS has changed to a little later. Oh, dearie me! Fingers crossed.
Intercom, Amazon delivery. Got the flaky biscuits ready with the tissues near the front door. I was meaning to slip a masherina (facemask) on, before opening the doors, but forgot to. Humph!
Getting Shaking Shaun, joining in with the back pain. Then sudden fatigue came over me.
Jenny emailed, then later rang me, but I could not hear her, the line was terrible. I tried four or five times to ring her on the landline, but it was engaged.
Frank came up with the bleach and yoghourts for me and collected the bags from me. I still had the shakes going a bit ferociously.
Got some nosh prepared. And got down to eat it, with designs on getting to sleep soon. Hahaha! Fool!
04:25hrs: Lethargically, I came back to life, unsure of if I had actually woken, or was still in the middle of the dreams I’d been blessed with overnight! A medley of ever-changing subjects, from the embarrassing, fearful, and belligerent, to plain confusing, but longed for, impossible, (nectareous!) romantic happenstances. I’ll not go into details, cause I’m short of tablets, and don’t want to get myself all excited) Hehehe!
I’m putting the changes in the view photograhicalisations, that I took over four hours, on the right-hand side here.
To show the amazing difference in colouring, light, etcetera, that took place.
There was a light mist with the morning views that turned into a fog, but only for an hour or so, then it reverted to just being a little misty.
Then the fog started coming back! All very interesting. (Or not?)
The last one was taken through the balcony window, as the fog paled back into a slight mist. Sorry about the diversion.
Now, back to the tale of the short, plump, wobbly-bellied, bald, deaf, Saccades Sandra affected, 5′ 2″, well-overweight, hobbling, Nottinghamian pensioner’s rising from his recliner. His £300, c1968, second-hand, obnoxiously-beige-coloured, none-working (my Xyrophobia suffering, over amour propre Brother-in-law Pete, when he was searching the flat while I was in the hospital after the Stroke, and taking my valuables, and he took a rest. Fatal! He could not resist the electrics and mechanics of the chair and fiddled with them. Now the machine no longer works!), ramshackle, uncomfortable in the extreme, rusty, rickety, none-working recliner.
When I had manoeuvered my ever-changing legs to the ground, the thin night-quilt went with the tootsies to the carpet – entwined painfully in the overgrown toenails! Getting the toes freed was also a most uncomfortable experience! Cragknackling & Teeth-grinding!
As I was getting up and grabbing the stick to catch my balance, it became evident that Toothache Thomas was going to give me bother. I decided to risk taking an extra painkiller with the morning brew, for the pain seemed to be getting worse as time passed. Arglebonkangony!
I took the first of the photos at the top right, got the kettle on the boil, and did the sphygmomanometerisationing. Made the tea, and took the second picture. The SYS reading had come down, but it was still a tad high, methinks. The pulse at 76 should be okay, The thermometer gave a numbered readout for a change, 86°. Fahrenheit, I hope. Out of interest, I looked at the temperatures on Google. I got this explanation to my question.
By the time it had sunk in, I’d forgotten what I’d read! Hahaha! Looks good to me.
Off to the wet room, to satiate the demands for the Porcelain Throne. It was all over within a minute or so! No pushing from me at all. Things moved under the control of the innards, and the evacuated product was massive, but not messy. The rear end bled a lot afterwards. I’m not sure if this was due to Harold’s Haemorrhoids or something else. The piles, I hope! Cleaned and medicated. I’m so glad, almost thrilled, to tell you that Little Inchies fungal lesion, had not, and wasn’t bleeding at all. So no hurtful medicating needed here, Yippie!
As I left the wet room, the flat seemed so cold suddenly? I adorned the thick dressing gown. Brr!
The Assam mug of tea had gone cold, so I invested in a brew of Glengettie Gold. Off to the computer, and made a start on graphicalising input. Added to the scribble on the notepad to remind me later of things, and eventually made a start on the updating of the Thursday blog.
Many hours later, I’d got it done and sent off. Pinterested a few shots. Then I went on the WordPress Reader. Onward, to Facebooking, TFZer then to Winwood Heights.
I made a start on with this post, then went on CorelDraw to make up some more TFZer graphics. I read that a tenant ordered some from Amazon. So I ordered some. I’d hate to be in the pickle of not being able to get on a bus! Should be arriving tomorrow.
The day was dark, the sun didn’t put in a smile all day. The mist lingered on and on.
11:25hrs: Then I got seriously involved in graphicalisationing on CorelDraw. Back later.
15:55hrs: The intercom chimed out.
It was a young lady bringing me my prescriptions that the chemist told Obergruppenfhurer, Gymnast and Warden Deana yesterday, would be arriving on Saturday! No complaints, though! I’m just glad that I didn’t go out, expecting them the next day.
At least Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, have kept to their habit of making me confused, every month. This time in reverse, and delivering them early for once, thanking them, kindly.
I thanked the young lady and gave her a can of cola with Jack Daniels in, to show my appreciation.
I put the bag on the kitchen counter and carried on trying to sort out the mess I’d gotten myself in with the graphicalising. I was trying to save some space on the hard-drive, by transferring some of the earlier graphics I’d done, to the drop-box. Well, I got deeper and deeper into a state of utter frustration and confusion. All caused by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, making me hit wrong buttons, or hold onto them too long, or not pressing, but thought I had!
Suddenly it was 19:00hrs! Oh, dearie me! I’m tired and weary. The head is spinning, and I have to give up. Too mentally-exhausted, to carry on. I did get so involved in the task as well.
I’ll make some Dagwood filled rolls, I dare not risk any cooking, how I feel now. Beef and tomato methinks. I may have to fight off, falling asleep to eat them. I’ll get them made up now. I’m an old furshlugginer, who should have my name mentioned in despatches!
Well, that was farcical again! No bread, other than frozen! Some, thick bellied and thicker brained old pensioner forgot to take the loaf out of the freezer, didn’t he! This failure of memory means I shall have bake to some cobs in the oven after all! It’s quicker than defrosting without a microwave. Grumph!
I shall have to wait for the oven to get hot enough, of course. Bungle-Grumplewuncks! What happened to the hours of the day? Still, If I can save internal memory on the computer, it will be worth the anguish.
What next? Here’s what: I burnt my left middle finger, as I put the rolls in the cooker for regulated ten-minutes. Burnt my fingers as I got the rolls out, and again when I tried too soon to slice and butter them.
I ran the water over the worst of the scolds. At least there was nothing on the plate to go cold while I did this. I was getting wearer all the time, but the thought of eating kept me going. Hahaha!
Eventually, after making many crumbs spread about, and cutting my little finger on the slicer-knife, I got the plate served up.
As I took the photo of the served-up meal, I spotted something in the background, that made me feel even more incompetent than I actually am. Laying, where I now remember leaving the Warburtons on top of the crock-pots. The packet of Soft Brown Bread Thins. I’d left them there this morning, so I would not forget to them! Bungleworthiness!
I just left the pots in the bowl soaking, all I was up to was sleeping. I got down in the c1968 recliner, put the TV on, and found a documentary on which interested me, about the Australian murder, years ago. I’ve not watched the telly so late for donkey’s years, I was shattered and all uptight, and decided to watch this long two-hour long programme.
I actually stayed awake for the first hour (well, there was a few short nod-offs). Then the big advertisements came on! I still don’t know how things ended, cause I drifted into sleep mode!
For five hours, uninterrupted kip! That was pulchritudinously, welcome!
