Starting with this Humorous Ode
Nemo Mortalium Omnibus Horis Sapit
Last night I slept early, getting up around 12:40hrs, and got on with the day’s work. I’m nothing if dedicated.
After yesterday’s three false alarms, I was unsure of having a successful mission. However, the evacuation flowed in contact with the plastic throne… and kept coming; at one stage, I thought my body might float into the air. Hehe! I’d passed that much. And comfortably, pain-free without any bleeding! A total reversal, I suspect that the different veggie burgers I had for dinner may have played a part in this scenario.
This photo I took of the plates and pins and forgot to put on yesterday’s blog. It could happen to anyone, Ahem! Don’t they look good? This and the excellent BP lately are worrying; I’m not used to this.
I had a wash and sorted out the waste bins. Got a cold drink from the fridge, finished yesterday’s blog, and posted it off to WordPress.
I made up the dry-humoured Ode to use and spent hours trying to sort out whatever I’d done wrong on Corel Draw, which lost me so many options. At one time, I gave up, turned it off, and got out the sphygmomanometer.
Yet another great set of figures this morning. And I was only just inside the red zone. Amazes me how the BP has been so good this last month.
I tried CorelDraw again, and I lost the saved template. More time lost, searching without much hope… But, I found, retitled it to the original name, and all was well again. I thought…
I’ve got a Morrison via Amazon order coming later shortly now. But will Carer Richard come late enough so he can have his Mushroom Pete treat? Will the delivery come in time? – Will they have any in stock? – Will they send crap substitutes? Can I freeze a fresh mushroom pate for Richard to have the following Monday? Did I remember to order some? What day is it?…
The wee-wees have eased off. The rear-end found new life. My legs, ankle ulcer and feet are looking virtually perfect. No Harold Haemorrhoid or Fungal Lesion bleeding. No stubbed toe, walking into anything, & no battle with Sock-Glide-Glenda (I didn’t put any socks on).
Arrived when and we were both a little down, I think. What bit of chinwagging we got was not the most cheerful. And Richard broke his own record for the fastest visit today. He was soon off in haste, but still the pleasant chap he is.
I turned off the computer to ensure that when the Morrison Amazon delivery arrived, I could be in the kitchen with the door open and hear when the weak, timid, pathetic chime from the intercom was heard. When the intercom chimed out, I was taking the opportunity to titivate the mess on the draining board.
A beautiful young lady came to the door and handed me each bag I put in the hallway. She already had my address, Hehe! Took my date of birth.
I thanked her and set about taking each bag through to the kitchenette. Poor old thing! I know I’m getting old, senile and past it. It shook me that I needed a few minutes to rest after taking the bags through the hallway.
The frozen item was the Meatless Farm Burgers, as well; there’s not much free room in the freezer.
Got what might be the last of pod peas, they are near the end of the season now, and it shows.
The fridge, on the other hand (not that I actually had a fridge on the other hand), had a lot of fodder that had to be jungled and jiggled to make room to get the stuff in there. These included some Strawberries, one for the Wardens, and Carer Valerie’s weekly treat.
Bananas, and my favourite veg seasoning, Oxo. These cubes have a fantastic flavour with them. I got some rice in, as it has already shot up in price, and a lady on the TV last night said to expect a lot more increases.
I put the warden’s weekly flower treat in the hallway; it’s cooler in there and rang to say they could be collected anytime. And if the DVT nurse comes early, I’ll bring them down to the office for them.
I must remember to ask Deana if the lift for the Diabetes session is sorted cause with Nathanial staying late to go over my missed meeting course, I will not know when I will be leaving. So will have to get a tram to Nottingham, a bus to Sherwood, and another bus up to the flats on that Friday. Fingers crossed that the ailments give me a break, which they are doing now… but they’ll be back! Haha!
Minutes after typing the above, the wet warm glow started in the lower regions. Why did I have to open my mouth? At least today, I can patch things up with the invaluable help of the shower before medicating. I always dread this happening when I’m out and about. Pure luck that it doesn’t happen too often… come to think of it, I’m not out usually anyway.
I’ll turn everything off computer-wise now and get the ablutionalisationing done and medicating certain areas in need. Back in a while…
“Lambasting-to-Self: Oh, No, you great fool, the DVT nurse and Deana are coming, aren’t they, dumbo!… I wish you’d get it together… Idiot! You know you can’t hear the telephone, intercom or even the door chime when you’re in the shower… Pillock!”
Dementia Doreen dashes your plans! Did you see that? The vaguest iota of contentment or thought that things might about to be going well, and what happens?
11:10hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; 3 stops away; I’d nearly forgotten about this delivery coming as well! Tsk! All that hassle getting the shower repaired, and now I still can’t get a shower! Or much sleep, either.
Took these photographicalisations of magnificent puffer clouds on display. A tremendous deep shade of blue?
11:39hrs: Checked the tracker on Amazon; Still 3 stops away.
Got some chips in the oven, chip sarnies for a snack? Cooked it, took a photo of it (and it didn’t get on the SD card?), ate it (the chip sarnies), and fell asleep.
Amazon Red Leicester delivery arrived. I put them away.
Esther called to see how things were, off on holiday. Wished her all the bestest.
Wardens Dean and Julie arrived. To do the yearly fact updates, we did them, and I mentioned the lift to the Diabetes at Bulwell. The leading man, Nathanial, is staying behind on this session to help me catch up with the one I missed, thanks to Meridian Care lot not letting me know they had failed to arrange a lift for me after saying to me; “We’re sorting it, no need to worry!” Deana phoned the transport people and arranged for a ride for the Friday 12th, 2nd session. I had to join something, and Deana sorted it all for me on the phone. Lovely, ♥! Deana also gave a note with the relevant numbers on it… But can I find it? NO! But I did remember to provide them with their weekly treats, flowers, and strawberries. Searched for hours for the note… maybe she didn’t give me one, or… I’m getting muddled again. I emailed her the list of the meetings and mentioned the mystery note… I am a fool!
. Arrived, I was well deep into sleep again, a rude awakening. Haha! Got the medications sorted out for me. Treated to a choice of plonk/nibbles. Off he went, not taking the waste bags to the chute. Cause I didn’t remind him. However, I had all the waste made from the other deliveries to sort, so I got on with them and took them all to the waste chute.
Cathleen’s Cartilage was playing up after I twisted the knee getting into the chute room. Pain level, only 4/10. Easily bearable.
Onto the computer and sent the list of sessions to Warden Deana. Updated this blog up to here. Then started the template for Fridays.
I nipped into the wet room to check that the shower was not leaking again, and…
Gave myself a good toe stubbing against the dreaded, fearsome Sock-Glide-Glenda. Catching the ankle ulcer at the same time. When I took this photo, later on, the end of the toes of the affected foot was white, and the rest of the foot was glowing red; the leg above was ghostly white?
Just another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. I just laughed it off, of course.
I got this blog finished. I’ll post it in the morning.
It’s been a busy day. But getting help from Deana, and Ethel checking on how I was going, meant so much to me. Bless ’em! ♥
Believe it or not, Inchcock created this depiction of his Sock-Glide from memories of a nightmare, that the poor old fart suffered two nights ago. It’s so sad!
Inchcock Reveals His Current Fears!
Reading further may cause harm to your sanity!
Born, and got myself double-pneumonia,
Thrown in the canal, I nearly drowned in 1954,
I got rescued, only scared, wet and sore,
The medics said the boss is going to warn yer,
The Doctor said “You’ll never get brawnier”,
Next, I got shot, then the Duodenal Ulcer,
Top of the charts was ♫24hrs from Tulsa♫,
Then the hernia, and bladder cancer.
Had to have the ticker transplanted, years ago,
It doesn’t bother me now, though,
Then I went and got shot again,
I knew my bad luck had to end, but when?
I stopped working in the Security industry, then!
I came off my motor-bike in the fog,
Out of hospital, had some police dialogue,
They fined me £20, speeding, I was agog!
Got a job driving a delivery van,
And became quite a Casanovan,
Got made redundant three times, lucky man!
Retired, well it was enforced of course,
But I had little remorse,
Got a part-time job, selling pickles and sauce,
When I reached 70, we had a discourse,
Then the Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed,
Got the tablets mixed-up, and overdosed,
They said stay indoor, well, I wasn’t opposed!
Then along came the stroke, of the ischaemic type,
Saccades, as well, of dear, this medical hype,
But I wasn’t one to moan and gripe,
I recovered, but physically, I’m a load of tripe,
They discovered I had diabetes,
Life became full of abstrusities,
My ailments seem to grow complexities.
Next, I’m using a walking stick,
Unbalanced, falling-over, it made me sick,
No choices then, at home I have to stick,
I fell, and gave my neck a crick,
I’m no longer the witty, clever-dick,
But I somehow cope, and that was fantastic.
Then along came to visit us,
The Corona Virus,
Isolation, no going out walking or on a bus,
Every day new instructions, what a fuss,
But at least I got rid of furuncle’s puss!
Until disabilities meant I couldn’t bend down,
And the worst, that really gets me down…
It’s bad enough doing your own syringes,
Is the bloody Sock-Glide, frame,
I gave it a go, I was really game,
But it keeps taking lumps out of my fingers,
And I don’t like these whinges,
Using the Sock-Glide means many cringes,
It’s not just the pain – mentally you’ll find it unhinges!
This claptrap was
rit rote, written by Inchcock, with dedication and stupidity in support of the Peterborough & District Failed Philharmonic Orchestra Players, collection fund for the Bankers & Investors Roadkill Hospice Advocacy Society.
Friday 17th April 2020
Indonesian: Jumat 17 April 2020
02:10hrs: I woke with two voices talking to me, both apparently, mine? One said “Sod-it, go back to sleep, soddum all!” the naughty me. The other, obviously a more conscientious me, said, “Don’t mess about, it takes you that long to get anything done nowadays, here is your chance to get caught up on your CorelDrawing, come on, gerrup!” The naughty me won this argument, and I drifted off back into slumberland!
05:00hrs: I’d been having a bad dream, where I was being chased by a gang of armed, vicious, blood-thirsty hoodlums again, through demolished offices, I sprang awake. Passed wind violently, and the innards started churning and rumbling, and a tummy-ache of Defcon Two proportions kicked in. My immediate thought, was, is this through those damned pork and leek sausages I ate last night? They looked almost white, the skin was three or four times the usual thickness for wienerwursts, I was a bit doubtful about eating them at the time. But I think not, cause they were very mild with a delicate taste of leeks, any pork flavour had done a bunk.
I had no option other than to get my still aching from cleaning up the flood mess body, dragged off of the £300, second-hand, c1968 recliner, with some difficulty. Arthur Itis and Back-Pain-Brenda being the main culprits. Grabbed the stick, and wobbled to the wet room.
And to think that I thought yesterday’s last visit was a painful one! This was a painful one! I almost tired myself out with all the agonising force needed to get things through. But at least, the bleeding was no worse, and not a messy evacuation.
Washed, and off to make a brew and take the medications. Toothache Terence wasn’t too bad for once, so no extra painkillers were taken… of course, I’ll probably get a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, Dizzy Dennis spell, or Shaking Shaun attack and injure myself later, and end up taking one anyway. (Depressed? Lack of Confidence? Anxiety? Insecurity? Self-doubt?, Self-loathing? Nervousness? Defeatism? Negativity? Pessimism? Demoralised? Despondent? Melancholia? Me? Yes!)
I took a couple of snaps of the view outside. The mist was clearing, I just wish the fog of depression would go away from me.
On to the computer, and made a start on the updating of the Thursday post. It became a tad farcical, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were on and off, which meant it took me even longer than I expected. Saccades-Sandra kept making focussing difficult at times. But neither were consistent, they keep coming and going. This was getting to me today. Hours were lost in just correcting things done wrongly through the senseless fingers or Sandra’s blurring of vision. What with the floods that were my fault, the struggle to sort out food, not being considered at risk, so no food parcels, I fear that depression is coming over me again. Sickly, pathetic self-pity! Humph!
I made the comments on WordPress and then went on the Reader Section.
My usual heart and enthusiasm were not with me. I didn’t, couldn’t, seem to snap out of it this morning.
I checked the emails, I can’t work out if the virus situation is getting easier or not. Confirmed cases seem to be getting fewer. But, of course, there are millions of people who have not had any checks yet, so, if they check fewer patients, the figure will go down? And the deaths recorded are only those who died in a hospital. The hundreds who have died in care homes or their own home are not registered. According to the Guardian newspaper anyway.
Boy, I’m on a downer today!
I emailed the blog link and pressed on, stutteringly with this blog.
The landline tinkled and flashed. Sister Jane, who was out shopping, to get some eggs on Central Avenue in West Bridgford, rang me from the ‘Social Distance’ waiting queue! She said she was at number 18 on the list.
It really cheered me up a bundle, when I was informed that she and Pete had had there weekly freebie box of food delivered today. Fruits, canned goods, pasta, toilet rolls, vegetables, sauces, rice, cakes, bread etc., oh, I was pleased for them! I’m not complaining really (much!), I did get a loaf of bread and bottle of milk last week from the Nottingham City Council.
It seems I am not ill enough or do not have sufficient ailments for me to qualify as in need, for any food parcels. Nottingham County Council, give them out to fit people of the same age as me. Who are pools and lottery winners, have been left a fortune by unknown distant relatives, retired at 32, live in a mansion, on a tree-lined avenue, with a bus service at both ends of the road, car-owners as well! Luckily, this does not bother me. Hehehe!
Well, I might add something to the list of my ailments (Which are, Reflux Valve sticking, Mechanical Aorta Heart valve fitted, Duodenal ulcer, Hernia, Ever bleeding piles and awaiting a strangulation operation, Peripheral Neuropathy, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Ischemic stroke, given Clopidgrel in hospital and found to be allergic to it, but it’s in my bloodstream, and blotches, lumps on the ever-changing legs have to be contended with now. Dizzy spells every day, At risk for falls, Saccades, Thrombophlebitis, and Neurotransmitters dying (right side of my body) which makes walking and keeping balance very difficult. Deafness, Warfarin for life, Bladder cancer. And now Stuttering-Stephanie (along with the deafness) is making life and communicating a bloody nightmare at times!
But this list above is not enough to get a food parcel. I’ll see if I can catch something else to add to these and try again. Depressed? Me?
I went to make a start on prepping for the meal later. I got some canned potatoes in the saucepan, (Took them out of the can first, mind) and added some hoisin sauce and hickory.
I emptied the beef in onion into the pan with the potatoes. Unfortunately, Nocodemus’s nerve ends failed while I was pouring in the hickory, the whole lot tipped into the saucepan! I spent the next hour or so, keeping nipping in to extract some gravy and add boiling water, to weaken the juice. Boy, it was intense! Hehe! Another mess to clear up. Tsk!
The mist had cleared. I took a photo of towards Nottingham. Then zoomed right in to try and get a decent shot of the high-rise student flats right in the distance (Near the centre of the panorama photo).
A lady Vapour was taking her three doggies for a walk. I tried to catch all three dogs with her in one shot, but the younger one was very lively. Hahaha! I did manage to get one chance.
Well, I wanted to do some more graphics, but Saccades and Nicodemus decided I shouldn’t.
So I got the nosh sorted out. I had overdone it with spilling the hickory into the stew. I and to remove a lot of gravy and weaken it, before serving it up. But it was worth the effort, it tasted most delightful! The flavour rating was a worthy 8/10.
I got it all slowly masticated and digested, got the washing-up done (Slow job).
The door chime rang out, and I stumbled to the door. It was Robert. Our caretaker, he’d kindly brought me a bottle of bleach. I think I must have mentioned to him on Wednesday, about not being able to get any. Kind of him. I ignorantly did not offer to pay for the bleach, I was half-out of things with Dizzy Dennis having a go at me at the time. Sorry, Robert, and thanks. Saved the day for me there!
Settled to watch some TV, got my head down a bit earlier today, in hopes of getting some sleep in for a change. (Oy vey!) The self-derogatory thought-Storming started almost straight away! On, and on they flowed. Eventually, and thankfully, I nodded off…
The landline rang and flashed, I struggled to get to the phone in time. I was the nice lady from the NCC Support Team. But Stuttering Stephanie came online, and the worst visit ever, I could hardly get words out, and when I did, the poor lady could not decipher them. Then said, “You don’t sound too well, I’ll ring you back later another day.” I thanked her, but then again, I think I thanked her and seemed to find myself back down on the recliner, with a blank period in between talking and getting sat down.
Sleep had decided it would not return again, I’d upset it I think with keeping getting up.
I spent hours, musing, thinking, Thought-Storming, and passing wind!
Thursday 16th April 2020
Tamil: ஏப்ரல் 16, 2020 வியாழக்கிழமை
I moved at 04:20hrs: I’d woken at 04:00hrs. And spent ten minutes or so, trying to get the mind’s spark-plugs to spark, and the brain into first-gear.
I had irrational parts of the dream I’d been having confusing things. Eventually, semi-logical thinking returned and all memories of the dream dissipated into the ether. It helped clear my acrasia when the urgency for a wee-wee arrived. By the time I’d got up on the feet and grabbed the stick, the Porcelain Throne was needed too. So, off to the wet room.
Things did not go as expected, not by a long way. Colin Cramp’s, Constipation Conrad, and Hyrams Hyperkinesis made sure if that. The evacuation didn’t get anywhere near fruition, the sudden borborygmus, pains and discomfort from the innards were acute, and I spent ages waiting and hoping for some movement. I tried a bit of muscular encouragement to advance the proceedings, but paid for it with horrendous pangs, and stabs! In between the terrible-tribulations, I managed a wee-wee of sorts (An LSHH (Long-Sprinkly-Half-Hearted style).
By golly-gosh (Not the exact wording that I thought at the time), that non-event left me almost doubled up in agony. By the time I’d rose and washed, it had reduced to an annoying, persistent enteralgia.
The old veins in the Peripheral Neuropathic affected right leg were looking looked so very pretty this morning. Reminded me of worms wriggling up to the skin. Hahaha!
Off to the kitchen.
First thing, even before putting the kettle on (this shows the urgency, Hehe), I made a mug of Macrogol and took a Senna. Constipation Conrad has returned with a vengeance! The rumbling and grumbling from the innards continue unabated. Dangwangles, Discomforting, Damn, and Drat! Got the kettle on, and took the morning medications, and made a brew.
Got the computer on, and had a look at the calendar. Ah, a more relaxed day, hopefully. I could do with a little less hassle, and time to concentrate on some CorelDrawing and the diaries, maybe even find time to do an Ode?
Mind you, it might not get done, with me getting up so late. Still, it might have been dream-filled, but six-hours-kip was right-good for me.
I checked for any Coronvirus updates, figures-wise, but none for yesterday?
On the computer, accompanied by the gnawingly, grinding, churning from the protruding, midriff. The wobbly stomach, proffering forth regular tiny, but aromatically lethal escapages of wind. (I sprayed some lemon fresh-air stuff about, but the posterior declamations won the day!) Cor, blimey they did!
I took a couple of photos as I made a brew of Glengettie. The sun behind still low, and it made for pictures with a distinctly varied colouring, I thought. Later, when it comes up a little more, the sun should be casting its shadows in the scene. I’ll try to remember to take some more.
As I got the tea made, made a decision. Yes, it has been known before (A long time ago, I agree). I thought that while being inside is a right bind and I’m not getting my daily hobbles in now, I placed the tea-bag pots on the floor! Why, you ask? (I hope). This means, at least a little exercise, bending down to get a bag, and again to put the pot back! It might sound silly to you, and most likely it is. But, the amount of tea I drink (and let go cold), should help me a bit. There is no chance of be doing any exercising today, the pains and aches are still pretty nasty, from the cleaning up of the flood, yet. So, in my mind at least, I’ve tried to do something about it. Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly?
What seemed like a few years later, I got up to here. I titivated this blog and then went on to update the Wednesday blog. This didn’t take too long, despite Nocodemus’s dying nerve-ends hassling me a bit.
The peripheral neuropathy drove right-leg was twitching and mini-shaking. In such a fashion that I believe my unintended, yet feeling almost obligatory, Neuropathic Drop-Something Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance, shortly. It seemed to be building to it anyway.
I then went on the WordPress Reader. Next, the TFZer Facebooking.
The door chime rang out, no intercom was heard though, so it might be someone to tell me off about something or other, Jenny bringing me a treat, or, as I anticipated, the second pair of trousers being delivered from Amazon. I made my way sprightly to the door…alright, I hobbled with the stick to the door, and sure enough, it was an Amazon delivery chap, who kindly put the box through the door for me.
Puzzling. It was another box of the Mini-Cheddars pickle flavoured cheese biscuits? I ordered another box? Did I? I’m hoping I have not clicked for a regular order of these. Oh, dearie me! I hope the second pair of trews arrive today and put my warped, frenzied mind at rest about them, at least.
I had a look at the trousers where I’d hung them up on top of the washed ones wit the holes in the pockets and legs coming apart, to remind myself that I’ve paid for two pairs, not one. Incidentally, the yare supposed to be brown ones, do they look brown to you? They are the wrong size as well. Tsk! I feel that at some time in my younger years, someone must have slipped me a lifetime-of-bad-luck pill!
I put the box in the junk room with the first one, took a packet out of the old box, and made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea. I’m not getting the full satisfaction from the brews lately, but that can’t be helped, I’m using the watery semi-skinned one from the Nottingham City Homes donation, Bless ’em!
I took the three snaps above, hoping to catch the sun in between the shadows. Each time I went to take a photo, the sun went in. I gave up after the third attempt and took those above.
My thoughts turned to plan my later victuals and libations. I ferreted in the cupboards. After much changing of the mind, ponderisationing and faffling about mentally, I decided to have some rice, cooked in Hoisin sauce, and some vegetarian sausages. That’s the one’s I ordered in error last week, waste not, want not, and all that.
An update came in on Email with the figures for Nottingham Civid-19+. So I added it to yesterdays update and made another graphic if it.
It’s not too encouraging. It doesn’t help with the conspiracists spouting their views about it being a drug-company, or mask-making one, in league with the various governments.
I am more than confused about it as it is, thank you.
It was late now, so I decided to get back on CorelDraw and try to do up a template for tomorrow before the eyelids start drooping.
Ah, the sun has cast a shadow of the building on the bottom field. As there was an acute shortage of dogs taking their owners for a walk, I decided to take a shot of, I reckon, beautiful scene.
I went to make another mug of Glengettie and washing afterwards, I thought I’d missed a little purple spot on my right palm. I gave it some energetic hammering with bleach, washing up liquid and a scrubbing brush, but no, it didn’t work. On closer inspection, it looked like one of the Clopidogrel blood blisters under the skin? I feel sure that the nurse told me it only affects the legs? Then again, that was when the Peripheral Neuropathy was diagnosed. Since I had the stroke, so that made things come on a little quicker. It is on the right side as well.
I fear not getting my walking in, or even being able to sense things when I touch them like the fingers and hands are now. If any other part of my magnificent, muscle-toned body (Inchcock Fib Detected!) get affected, well, Oh dear! Enough of the bleakness, if it comes, I’ll do what I’ve always done, cry! Hahaha! Only joking! I’ll press on as long as I can. As long as folks read, and get a smile out of my blogs, then I get satisfaction.
I must stop this chit-chatting, and get on with the graphicalisationing.
I got that done (partly anyway), and went to get the meal planned, heated the oven, and later, decided to add some Horlicks to the rice, so it… No, no, that’s not right. Oh, dear, gone memory dead again! I had to go and look at the bottle label. Hickory, that’s what I meant! But I’ve forgotten what I was going to say about it now. Spitworthy-Splurging-Sparrowhawks!
Computer off, and I had to go to the Porcelain Throne! What a harrowing experience that was! Painful with moments of agony. The evacuation was stop-start and took ages. But it was not messy. The worst thing was the amount of blood. It didn’t look like it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids, a much deeper crimson-like colour, a lot of it! But, it might have been from the piles.
The cleaning up and medicating was a long, uncomfortable job. And changing into new PPs, I lost my balance and hit the wall, then sort of slid down onto the knees, in an almost slow-motion fashion! I think I questioned my parentage afterwards. That did Arthur Itis’s knees a lot of good! I decided as I am in here, I’d get the ablutioning done. Fool!
A few dropsies. I avoided the conflict with the lethal, dangerous, scary, nerve-rendering sock-glide, by not putting any of the bamboo hosiery on. (Coward? Me? Yes!) I did clout the right shin against the mop bucket, and I vociferated with something like, “Oh heck!” (Inchcock Fib Detected).
Limpingly I hobbled to the kitchen. Where I stirred the marinating rice and got it on the lowest setting of heat. Then I got out the pork & leek sausages from the freezer. Gawd, they looked almost white, one was broken, and the skin looked ultra thick. I thought about changing my choice of meat, but stuck with the odd-looking sausages and put the bangers in the pre-heated oven.
The seasoning I’d put in the marinade smelled good.
While the sausages, that the label on the bag said needed 45 minutes to cook.
I got the handwashing tended to. Just a long sleeve t-shirt and a couple of pairs of bamboo socks.
During doing the washing process, I’d got the fabric softener, the Sainsbury’s smelling-like-puke one, out to use, put it back, and rather sillily, left the cupboard door ajar. I caught the right legs shin on the edge of the door. Just my luck, Nicodemus’s nerve-ends had to be working perfectly at the time. I’ll not mention my exclamations used.
All done, wrung and hung, I turned my attention to prepping the meal. The sausages were pale, and the thick skins white. If it wasn’t for the hoisin sauce and hickory colouring them a tad, I don’t think I’d had eaten them at all, they were so unappealing looking. And I’d burnt the rice as well. However, I still served them up on the plastic dish. The last of the tasteless cheesy buns, an apple, lemon yoghourt, two lemon mini-Vienesse cakes, and a can of the Clementine drink rounded of the meal.
I thought I was rather brave, in even trying a bite of the thick-skinned weighty, white sausages. It tasted blandish, but the flavour of the leeks came through. The rice, I enjoyed despite having burnt it a tad. Well, a lot really! Tsk! Taste Rating: 6.5/10. I didn’t eat it all.
The washing up? Well, that was a nightmare. The saucepan that I’d overcooked the rice in, was most reluctant to free the seasoning and rice that was attached to the sides of the pan. Humph! The wooden spoon is still soaking in the bowl, now! I reckon pebble dashing could be done with this rice. Hahaha!
I did a check of the flat, taps (faucets), door for mail, windows, lights, taps (faucets), the stove etc., taps (faucets), and got down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, obnoxiously, odiously, stomach-churningly, beige-coloured, non-working, rickety-recliner.
I had pots of nibbled all around me. Mini-cheddars, walnuts, yoghourt coated cashew nuts and seaweed crispies. But, as I spent a few hours nodding-off and waking up, again and again, only the cashews pot was raided.
I did watch most of the film called ‘Young Sherlock’. I wish I could have stayed awake, but I did enjoy what I managed to view, but of course, have no idea what the plot was fully about, I got the gist of it, I think. Grumph!
I soon nodded off properly, and into sweet Morpheous’s heaven!
Wednesday 15th April 2020
French: Mercredi 15 Avril 2020
03:30hrs: I woke in a positively improved state of mind. Over the last 48hrs, I’d gone from ‘I’ve-Had-enough’, to ‘Oh-dearie me’, then to this morning’s mental condition, of ‘Perhaps-Things-Might-Improve’ mode. Dangerous, I know, but that’s how I felt! As I was laid there, wallowing in this temporary-moment of rarefied, but pleasant, semi-contentment, I started to ponder on what the day will be bringing me, hassle-wise. My EQ told me to expect nice things today? Mmm?
I have to ring or Email Jenny later, to find the time for the taxi she had arranged for me to get to the bank was due. The lower right leg was stinging before I moved (I’ll check on it later). I soon sussed that Anne Gyna, Peripheral Pete, Colin Cramps, and Shaking Shaun were going to be a bother. But my investigations had to be paused, and my ramblings concentrated on getting to the Porcelain Throne.
I was up and out of the recliner with so much ease it shocked me! Grabbed the stick and made my way to the wet room. The repeated phut-phut escapages from the read end en route, had me fooled completely. I would have put money on it going to be a messy, sloppy, runny evacuation, and accordingly, settled down as soon as I could…
And there I still was, a good five actionless minutes later! The crossword book was utilised for another few minutes before any movement began. And then, it was another of the start-stop part-way through jobs. ‘Things’ were being stretched, and the pain was slowly increasing! The crossword book was perused again. Anything to take my mind off of the agony. Hehe! Eventually, but slowly, activity returned, but it needed a lot of stressful encouragement from yours truly. Phew! Bloody, but it was not unexpected.
I got things in need, cleaned and medicated. And as a point of urgency, I went to the kitchen and made a mug of the Macrogol. Took a Senna along with the morning medications. With Anne Gyna, Colin Cramps (I pain-gelled the leg) and Duodenal Donald already giving me some discomfort, I took a Cocodamol to back up the Codeine 30g extra as well. Thank heavens for the kind person who dropped some off for me. Especially as the toothache was joining in the ‘Let’s annoy Inchcock’ battalion of ailments!
More CorelDraw work needed doing, but I started the updating of the Tuesday blog first. I discovered that Nicodemus’s Nerve-end transmitters were not working. I spent longer doing corrections than actual productive work. Inchyangulations!
But, I was in a fertile mood this morning, and went on to CorelDraw without taking a break or any nibbles! Highfaluting-Inflated-Ego-Mode Engaged!
Thankfully, with my staying up late again yesterday, there was little work needed to do, to finish off the blog. Although, still time for repeated corrections of Neuropathic Pete’s finger-end insensitive moments! Grangleroterisations!
Pinterested some pictures, and went on getting some graphics done for page tops. It was slow progress, but I do love doing them; if only the ailments would let me! I had to stop, to get the ablutions done a little early. Partly to get things done and not be late for the taxi that Jenny has arranged for me on time. And just in case Little Inchies Fungal Lesion had been bleeding. I do not like having to rush cleaning and medicating things in that department, quite painful, don’t you know! I must remember to go on WordPress Reader and TFZers Favebooking later.
Of to the wet room, and still with a morsel of this strange emotion to me, determination!
However, my gusto did not help, but rather made the session one of the worst for a few days! My rushing about at a rate of knots usually not available for me, meant Whoopsies galore!
- Stubbed toe on the mop bucket!
- Dropped the toothpaste!
- Toothbrush (twice)
- Cut gums
- Sink plug
- Shaving foam can
- Razors (Four)
- Shaving cuts (two)
The worst thing was the dang Sock Glide. I tried to make a point of being careful as well! Globalerisations! I trapped a finger in the gripper, tore a hole in a sock, and cracked the middle right toe as I pulled on the sock!
“For Sale” One almost new, part-used Sock-Glide. Emotion-prompting brand (Crying and swearing usually). Green plastic-covered metal. House trained, Decoratively sprayed with
blood spots, red polka-dot spots. Offers, please!
Or, better still, if there are any medical people out there who can repair dying neurotransmitter ends, you can charge whatever you like to do the job, I’m prepared to give you all the money I have, please. The rent and service charges have just gone up, so it will be a little less than to offer you. But I can guarantee a minimum payment of £400! And, some old coins and monies when I get them back from my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete, who stole them while I was in the hospital after my stroke. Hehehe!
I then got the hand-washing done, wrung and hung. Not a lot, just a long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of socks.
Checked on the wet-room floor mat, I washed last night. Still wet so I jiggled it a bit and turned it over, on the clothes airer.
Then, made up and took some more black bags to the waste chute.
Back to the flat and got things ready, made sure I’d got the letters Jenny wrote for me, the card, and some tissues with me.
I did the usual faffing about double-checking lights and taps etc. and went to set out for the taxi. As I opened the door, the mobile rang. Which was a good thing that it did, cause I’d left it nearby the computer?
I fumbled my way back and answered it. Twas Sister Jane. Wanting to know if I had ad a letter she’s sent received yet. We don’t get a morning delivering in these flats, at least I’ve never had one. Always been in the afternoon. She asked me to ring her back after I got it. Mmm?
I set out and down into the foyer of Woodthorpe Court. Out onto Chestnut Walk. Both the old caretakers were there at the bins. And I managed a conversational chinwag with them, despite Stuttering Stephanie doing her best to muck things up!
The taxi arrived dead on time, a decent sort of chap. We got to the bank, and as I was struggling to get out of the vehicle, a stranger came over to me and helped me out of it! That was grand of him! The taxi man walked me to the bank…
Jenny said she had checked on the opening times with TSB, who told her 09:30hrs. It was now, 09:35hrs, but they were not open. There was a sign on the door, saying for the duration of the lock-down, they will be open at 10:00hrs.
So, I had to do some quick thinking. If I wait until ten o’clock, the taxi fare will be a lot more, sky-high. If I get some money from the ATM, a risky job in my state with the fingers being none-responsive to touch, I will not be able to get sufficient cash for what I need, to pay my debts and have some spare for… No, I’ll get the money from the machine. I asked the driver if he could keep an eye on me, apart from the number I use?
He kindly did, and again a good job he did. I was walking away without collecting the cash! We were soon back in the flat, and the chap escorted me to the lobby door! Bless him!
On the way up, I got off the list on Jenny’s floor, and dropped the money I owe off through her letterbox, rang the bell, and back to the elevator.
I got in the flat and made sure I had the money left, and the card was safe!
A second calling to the Porcelain Throne. Hell, what a difference this one was. Ten-times less painful, but messy and the foulest aroma depositing one I’ve had for ages! The cistern didn’t clear it all, so I had to pour down endless jugs of water for yonks. The bleeding was a lot less, too!
As I got the kettle on, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ chimed from the door. It was the postman, with a letter, (Jane’s) and a parcel. I thanked him and withdrew to the kitchen.
The mail was a card from ‘our Jane’, with some money in it for me for Easter. Bless her cotton socks, just at the optimum time too! I’ll ring her later on when I get the Iceland order arrived and sorted.
The package was a pair of the trousers I’d ordered from Amazon. They had sent only one pair, though, not the two I paid for! I suppose the other pair might arrive later. I checked the tracker on amazon to see what it said. They also sent the wrong size! Unless, of course, an Inchcock error had been made with the ordering? There was no email to tell me it had been delivered, so the other pair of trews might come later. I hope!
The letter was from Jane, with some cash in it, cause she knows I’ve had none for five weeks. Perfect timing! I’ll ring and thank her later.
I took a snap from the kitchen window of the sky, I was looking for dogs taking their owners for a walk, but I couldn’t see any.
Got the kettle on, and was about to get the evening medications ready, and the Intercom chimed and lit.
It was the Iceland delivery man. He sensibly kept his distance, put the bags down and withdrew. I was tickled pink to see I’d got some of the beefburgers added to the order.
Of course, I’d made another cock-up on the ordering, again! I felt sure I had ordered straight cut chips and then saw the new ones on sale, cunningly called ‘Naturally Imperfect chips!’ These were only £1, compared to the others at £2.40. Indeed, I thought I’d taken the orange pack off of the order. They are both the same weight as well.
This caused a bit of hassle and struggle, getting all the frozen foods in the freezer!
One heck of rigmarole taking stuff out, and rearranging things. A lot of the fresh products they were out of, but I still got the mature cheddar slices, No yoghourts, which is a shame, I love the lemon yoghourts, ah, well. Two ready-made meals on offer.No beetroot. Bleach restricted to one bottle per order. No spreadable butter. They sent smoked kippers boil in the bag, so no smoked haddock. But that’s no bother; I like kippers as much. Despite my searching and ordering the lemon yoghourts, lemon mousse and lemon tarts, it was a no go. But they did deliver some lemon Vienna cakes, so they will have to do. At least I have some more after dinner apples in stock. I hope they have been radiated.
But today, it will be the beefburgers on cheesy cobs and some chips, methinks. That sounds good to me.
I rang Jane to thank her, and the connection of the ringing told me not to bother, all broken up and crackly. I did some CorelDrawing, then tried again to get Jane.
Nicodemus’s nerve-ends died as the mobile rang, and as she answered it, I turned it off involuntarily. The typing I was doing afterwards was a farce, the senseless fingers doing all sort of jumping about… and I got a different scene up. It scared the hell out of me, it was full of indecipherable stuff to me. I thought it was the end of the computer. I calmly thought to myself, well that’s it. I’m not going to put another machine through this, I felt sickened. But I kept searching for an escape or close tag to hit, but no. I pressed the Esc button, nothing happened. My life had come to an end!
I was remarkably calm about it and started to take out the sim-card from its slot. But foolishy used the right hand, it flew up, and I grabbed at it, and went down with it onto the keyboard, and the right hand ran across along the keys… and the original screen came back on!
I know this sound hogwash, but it isn’t! Unbelievable!
I checked that other things and programmes were working, and they were. So, partly flabbergasted, and amazed, I closed everything down and tended to getting my beefburgers and chip cobs readied.
What a varied, up and down day so far!
At last, a decent nosh, and easy to prepare too. The cheesy topped cobs were bland, and the so-called extra-strong cheese was tasteless, but it didn’t matter too much. I made three sarnies. On of the insipid, pathetically flavoured cheddar, loaded with caramelised red onion chutney, to make it eatable. And two cobs with a beefburger, and some of the straight Iceland chips. I could not fault the crispy, tasty fries or beefburgers at all; they were marvellous! Enough to take my attention’s away from the jejune cheese, and the zestless cobs, anyway. Taste rating: 7/10. Thanks, as I said, to the chips and beefburgers, both Iceland brand. Both yummy!
I got the pots washed, and settled to watch the Coronavirus update on the telly. Farcical! I dropped off a minute here and there for hours. Why I didn’t just turn the TV off, beats me. Tsk!
Monday 13th April 2020
Mongolian: 2020 оны 4-р сарын 13-ны Даваа гараг
06:00hrs: I Woke up, wanting a wee-wee. Moved and felt the wet warm wriggly feeling from the lower regions. So, I launched (Well, struggled out of) my overweight wobbly-stomached body out of the £300, second-hand, none-working recliner, and made my way to the wet-room. Where the innards decided I also needed to use the Porcelain Throne. Heck of a job, a touch of reluctance, constipation coming on I think? But the evacuation was still far less painful than it has been of late.
While I was performing, the mind appeared to be calmer than last night, and a new temporary, no doubt, eagerness and willingness showed in my actions. Scary! Hehe! I think I might have been rubbing the knee bruise last night in my sleep, it looked a tad tender, but no real pain as such.
I returned to the rickety-recliner room and checked for any signs of nocturnal nibbling, or somnambulating having taken place. No tipped over items or bread or biscuit crumbs were found. I’d had a much needed, agreeable and encouraging six-hours kip. Which meant less time to get things done today. (I do moan on, don’t I?)
I made a tasty strong brew of my beloved Thompsons Punjana tea, ominously passed wind, and took the morning medications.
With rising from my slumber so late, the latest for many a month, it was light already. So, I took a few photographs of the scenes outside.
It was strange not to see any pets, birds or tellurians of any kind at all!
I went back into the main room and decided not to get dressed or washed yet. But just put the dressing gown and slippers on, the pins looked much improved on yesterday.
Then as I was setting up the computer, I had a visit from one of Peripheral Pete’s, right-leg Neuropathic Schuhplattler dances. As serendipitously, I fell bum first into the recliner as I lost balance. I’ve now got bleeding from Harold’s haemorrhoids and a new bruise coming up, but I was not bothered about this, cause it could have been a lot worse, even fatal! Especially with being a bank holiday. Off to the wet room, to tend to Little Inchies fungal lesion and Harold’s piles. Got things cleaned and medicated without too much hassle or pain, this time.
I used the last kitchen roll in the wet-room, so went to fetch some more from the junk room. One loose one, and another roll from the new pack of three. I noted that the new roll, same brand and price and both from Iceland, was thinner and narrower than the one I bought before. Bit of a con going on here methinks? The rolls I use as a handkerchief and glasses and blood cleaner for Little Inchie and Harold are not going to last long! Gullibleiitis Inchcock!
I got on the computer, and CorelDraw to make up a header graphic. Well, that didn’t last for long.
However, I struggled on, battling repeated Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitter failures, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley and Shaking Shaun’s interruptions! Caterwauling and Ululations mode adopted! Finally getting the blog updated, emailed and posted off.
I phoned Jenny to see about Tuesday’s trip to the bank. I know it’s nothing new, but I did feel a right fool! It is Wednesday when I have to go, not Tuesday. I checked on the Google Calendar, and saw I’d made another faux pas! Humph! Nottingham’s Bunglebrain strikes again! I am a flipping pain! Jenny kindly offered to ring the bank to make sure what time they open, and she’ll let me know, and will order a taxi for me, too! That’s so kind of the busy gal. ♥
I got some pictures on Pinterest. Then I went on the WordPress Reader to catch up. Then had hours on the TFZer Facebooking, I love it!
I tried to get an order on for Iceland for bread and their wonderful tasting beefburgers really, but no slots were available again. Shame!
The door chime rang! I was the Amazon delivering the keyboard cleaner. No instructions with it. Not that I have time to use it anyway. It’s gone midday already! Josie handed me the parcel, and scooted off, wisely from any close contact.
I thanked her as she disappeared in her door, holding her nose. This turmoil being caused!
Back on the computer, at last, to make a start on this blog. After around ten minutes, the door chime rang out again. It was Josie, telling me a loaf and bottle of milk had been unexpectedly delivered from Nottingham City homes. Now that was nice of them! Great timing too! Josie again was there and put the things inside the door for me.
I gave Jane and Pete a tinkle, but no answer. I’m hoping they have gone out somewhere, but I’ll ring again later. I hope they are both alright.
I tried Iceland again, still no slots. Blooming good job that the NCH helped me out! Looks like thick white bread sarnies tonight. I’ve got an out of date can of pork knuckle left, I might have a bash at that! When; I don ‘t know, it’s gone 16:00hrs now.
I got on with the updating again. Then, I went to make a brew of Thompsons Punjana and spotted some dog walking their owner, so I took a couple of shots. Several actually, but only these two came out worthy of using.
I took a picture of the clouds in the sky.
At least this one was to be useable first effort. Hehe!
The weather and wind seemed warm today.
I gave Jane another ring on the mobile. It didn’t connect, just three bleeps and it cut off? Also, a message said I have ‘Active Alerts’, what are they?
I did a search for ‘Active Alerts’ on Google. I got this explanation: Wireless Emergency Alerts (WEA, formerly known as the Commercial Mobile Alert System (CMAS), and prior to that as the Personal Localized Alerting Network (PLAN)), is an alerting network in the United States designed to disseminate emergency alerts to mobile devices such as cell phones and pagers. Obviously an American reason.
So, I searched again.
This time I got, Mobile Alert System: with this showing on the right.
I wasn’t doing very well, was I?
So another try.
I’m not learning much here!
I looked in the messages, but nothing there?
I tried Jane again. Got to ringing, but no answer. I’m worried, now. I managed to get hold of Pete’s number from the memory and rang him.
Thank God, everything was alright! Stuttering-Stephany made it hard for the pair to understand what I was saying a bit.
Jane had somehow turned down her ringing volume on her £499 new mobile phone. (I jest, it was £520 really). Hahaha!
Xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete and I had a natter, and I rang Jane back to make sure her Samsung Smartphone Galaxy S9 (Double Sim) 128GB , was set right now.
Then, now relaxed knowing things were alright with Jane and Pete, my thoughts turned to fodder! Pork knuckle, seaweed crispies, bread and butter and out of date, but tasty, last two bits of cheese. Clementine drink, lemon yoghourt and an apple. Taste, 7/10.
Ate it up, rushed to wet room for a wee-wee, took medications and down in the recliner and actually fell asleep!
I woke and put the gogglebox on. Kept hearing musical sounds that I thought might be the intercom, a few times I got up grabbed the stick and checked the box and the door, but no flashing box or anyone at the door.
This happened three or four times, and it was driving me bonkers! The next time, I checked again, and…
: Every fibre of faith, interest in life, and a dose of self-hatred like never before, came over me! It was a plumber from the flat below!
I was flooding the apartment beneath me! He went in and I went to check the kitchen, fearing I’d left the tap running again.
It turned out the bathroom sin tap had been left running, with a cloth-rag blocking the drain hole! The wet room and carpet flooded, the drain blocked, a right liquid mess!
The demoralisation and a sickening-gut feeling, and disgust in myself were instant! The man shot off back to the poor devil’s flat below, telling me it just needs a bit of a mop-up.
Duodenal Donald kicked in moments later, and is still this morning giving me bother like it hasn’t for years!
Self-loathing, Thought-Storms, I felt pathetic and useless. I set about getting the carpet out, and the n the slow job of mopping up and cleaning. The peripheral neuropathy, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley and Shaking Shaun, combined to ensure I kept tipping over the bucket, dropping the mop, and banging various parts of myself against anything hard-enough to hurt me! Every step from wet room to the kitchen to empty the mop bucket got increasingly more difficult and painful.
By the time I’d got it done as best I could, I as in real agony and more annoyed with myself than ever. Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, Back-Pain-Brenda, Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, and even Hernia Henry joined in giving me some hassle.
Harold Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were both bleeding, with all the bending. It was a bad enough scenario, my hating myself for my stupidity, without so much physical pain ganging up on me.
I could not get to sleep again. The body was stiffening, and depression rounded off my uncomfortableness. This may mean the end of my tenancy? I can’t blame them.
I’ve been asking for help on this blog, with my memory, despair, deafness, Mind Storms etc. for years as they all got worse.
Things are not good, and I am now at a severe depth of darkness, like never before.
The Coronavirus, only makes things even worse.
The fixity of purpose, the strength to fight on, all weaken at times like this.
Sunday 12th April 2020
Basque: 2020ko Apirilaren 12a, Igandea
05:25hrs: It took me that long to get to sleep, I slept through to 0525hrs, I can’t recall any dreaming though. But waking up didn’t seem like a reasonable idea at the time.
I’ll tell you why. As I manipulated my overly sized body mass, to jiggle a bit, to work out which ailments were active this morning;
First thing as I hedged my bulk to the right. The Pillow-Shaker Fire Alarm activated. Naturally, this diverted my disease, injuries, and bodily-scars, seeking plans, as I fumbled to get my hearing aids in, grabbed the walking stick, and with ears peeled, I went to investigate the reason. A sort of delayed realisation came to me, and a semi-panic took a hold.
- My apartment fire alarm was not going off, so I assumed it was the main one, which I have to open the front door so I can hear it. I did the usual touching the door handle with the back of my hand to see if it was hot. (I was pretty pleased with myself for remembering to use the left hand, in case Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters that fail on the right side of my body were on strike, [I became Smug-and-Satisfied temporarily]) Had the nerve-ends gone into failed-mode, they would nit informed the brain, and I just might have opened the door to be greeted by a wall of flame or black smoke in the mush. But no sounds heard, so I went to check out of the kitchen window to see if the fire brigade were on site.
- Not an easy job, with these new thick-framed, view-blocking, rain letting-in windows. The wide window ledges that stick out far too long, mean I have to stand on the stepladder to see the view below! (I bet this isn’t mentioned in the Nottingham City Homes advertising or commercial bumf anywhere!)
- I had to go through to get the stepladders from the junk room and managed, with no difficulty gave myself a cracking, whinge-making toe-stubbing against the ladders as I tried to carry them and the stick back to the kitchen!
- I opened the dangerous unwanted, unliked, fear-giving window, and as I climbed up to take a look outside, I hit my Arthur Itis-ridden knee against the corner of the ladder platform. (I think I might have said something like ‘Oh bother!’ at the time) It took me several injuries, and a lot of time, before I found out, there are no fire engines anywhere.
- I gingerly alighted the stepladder. Ad sense, logicality and obviousness came over me (A rarity indeed!) I asked myself, “Why the %☺@$ hell didn’t you just go on the balcony to look? I had many answers to this self-imposed question, but none of them was realistic, believable, or sensible! My confidence, never high at the best of times, sank a little more.
I took the stepladder back. It’s hard work carrying that with the stick, a bruised toe, and a very-most painful patella; I can tell yer! As I went, I maundered on at myself and realised things were not going get any better, my EQ told me. I was mentally preparing for some type of zemblanity, disaster, or general disappointment.
Having aboulomania, pathological-indecisiveness, a lack of confidence, and inability to do anything about this makes life difficult at times. The bad memory, insomnolence, and Stuttering Stephanie don’t help much. Hello, I’m wavering toward self-pity again! Come on Inchie, buck yourself up, take it like a man… well, imitation man, at least!
I got the area around the £300 second-hand, c1968, sickeningly beige-coloured, not working recliner cleared up! I could not see any signs of nocturnal nibbling, but things were not in their usual places or positions, and slow but sure, the various ailments started kicking off as I tided up a bit. Fluid-Retention Robert had filled the legs a bit more. Blotchy Belinda has visited the groin area. Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding, and the blood had dried (I’m not looking forward to the medicating at all!). Clopidogrel Clive had removed no end of his spots and odd marks overnight? Reflux Roger and Hard-Breathing Boris were giving me some gip! Toothache Terence was back. And now, Colin cramps has just started on the hands and fingers.
I tried to get a delivery slot from Iceland. It appears the yare fully booked until next Friday. Shame!
Computing, template, the updating for hours. By the time I stopped, I had a hatred of Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and they’re forever failing and returning, failing and… Never mind! I checked on the Amazon situation regarding the deliveries.
Looking good. The Mini-cheddars ‘Pickle flavoured’, should be here today. I must resist tearing the box open to get at a bag. Hehe! The wristband alerts for Warfarin will be arriving, of course, how long it will be until these ones split and break is anyone’s guess. They are from a different supplier, and a lot dearer than the others were. So, I hope that means they will last longer.
The ablutions were started much later than planned, with all the cockups and tribulations this morning. I have to make Josie’s nosh afterwards.
Ablutionisationing Report: Only the one cut shaving. A new bruise, but feeling more content. The bruise I got when picking up the dropped bar of carbolic soap in the shower. (I can’t see myself getting any more carbolic ever again. It was hard enough to find even before the lock-down! – Sob!) I banged my knee on the grab rail while showering, I’ve a little swelling to remind me of it. I did drop the showerhead again, but grabbed at it, caught it in time, (Godsmacking innit!) and pulled it to my body, hitting a certain delicate, but redundant nowadays, part on my anatomy. (Ouch!)
After drying off and cleaning the shower and sink. I had a look at the ever-morphing pins. Bit for meat on them I thought, then realised it was Fluid Retention Fred’s doing! Another oddity, (my life is not short of them!), was the new bruising the knee, was showing up as white? Well, I’ll be blown! Clopidogrel Clive was attempting a comeback as well. Belinda Blotches was visiting the legs as well. And, the usual for me paleness and anaemic, whiteness, had gone a, well, I don’t really know what colour it is, deep cream or a gungy spotted pale brown?
As I was getting dressed, Colin Cramps had a go at my hands and fingers again, causing me to drop the body spray can. I couldn’t help but the funny side. My dropping things are usually controlled by Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun Dizzy Dennis and occasionally a perhaps a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the right leg. What if they don’t like this imposter Colin Cramps doing their job? I’m losing it here!
I got the bit of handwashing done, not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. The bath towel, and the thin dressing gown. No socks, the damned sock-glide isn’t going have me today! I got the towel done wrung and hung, then did the gown, and hung that in the wet room.
Now, this makes me sound demented and a bit odd, (Fair enough I am!), but can you not see an expression of the sock-glide on the shower chair?
He looks awfully pee’d off to me. My having avoided any conflict or battles with him for two days now (I’ve not worn any socks, Hehehe! That got him!). Is he angry or sad? Perhaps he’s missing the little lumps of my finger-ends his deadly spring clip usually provides for him? Is he annoyed the Nicodemus has not made me drop or fall over it lately? The ailments rarely all come on together, but they may be planning an uprising! I’ve gone again, lost it!
Time to get Josie’s meal prepared. I didn’t take to long to get it ready. The cheesy potatoes, (the highlight of the meal my customers tell me), had to be made with Sainsbury’s substituted for Leicester grated cheese, a mixed bag. I got it served up for the gal.
The mixed grated cheese had Mozarella in it, not the tastiest of cheeses, and when warmed up got very stringy. But, beggars can’t be choosers! Without Jenny’s help, I wouldn’t have had any cheese to use. Stuck like glue to the utensils! I left the cutlery soaking in a bowl of washing up liquid and bleach for a few hours.
Not only did it get me in a mess that needed extra cleaning, but it was tasteless! But for my share, when I get it, I’ve some caramelised red onion chutney to spice it up. Hahaha!
I got carried away in making some small Good Morning photos, and side shots for the blogs, it was soon nearly 16:00hrs.
I went to visit the Porcelain Throne, and midway through the evacuation, the intercom chimed out! It was the Amazon man, with the highlight of the day, the pickle flavoured min cheddars, the wristlet alert bands and some pots to use to separate the seasoning.
I left the box until I had done the chipping off of the Mozzarella cheese from the cutlery in the bowl.
It came off okay, with a little, no, much effort and elbow grease!
All three items were there. I got them sorted, and could almost taste the Branston Pickle flavoured mini cheddars as I did so. The pots had what I wanted in then the screw on lids, as opposed to the snap-on ones I have at the moment. There are times when Nicodemus’s nerve-end die on me, and it’s difficult to sense if the lids are on or not.
Not haven eaten due to my getting too involved with the CorelDrawing, I realised it would be a while before I can get my nosh. So I took a bag of the mini-cheddars from the box; and what a pleasant, serendipitous, wonderful discovery! They were 50gr packets, not as I had expected, 30gr. I made a brew and gobbled a full pack, by gum, they were great!
Well, the fatigue dawned, but did I stop CorelDrawing, did I ‘eck as. I was on a roll, almost as if I was on a drug-trip! I had to concede defeat to the fatigue in the end. I was struggling to get the computer to close down. my heart sank. If I lose this outlet to life, it will be life-changing.
Then, as it does to me so often, I realised I had totally forgotten about the cheesy potatoes in the oven! Spittling-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! I scuttered to the kitchen to check, almost tripping over the walking stick in my haste.
Ah! All was well, which momentarily confused me. How could the mash be in the oven for over three hours and not get burnt? My question was soon solved when I realised I had not turned the oven on! Well, I couldn’t remember turning it off from doing Josie’s potatoes?
I’m getting worried about my mind and memory of late.
Anyroad, I put two of the Iceland beefburgers in with the cheesy spuds and turned on the oven. Draycup! I made a brew of tea, and for some unknown reason. I began to mourn the loss of my old pottery mug. It was genuine remorse, but why?
I reckon the mind is on its last legs. Tsk!
I went to turn off the computer and was not sure if I’d hit sleep or turn-off. I fancied I’d put it on sleep, but then I’d turned off the power. I turned the juice back on, and completely forgot to press the mini hidden button, and panicked a bit! Thinking my pressing sleep, and turning off the plugs, had damaged something. It really is scary, when you forget how to turn your computer on! I was in two minds whether to mention this at all. But, in keeping with my reveal-all policy on blogging, I did. Well, you know that cause it’s written here. I’m going off-line-logically a bit here!
I spent so long sorting out what I had and hadn’t done with the computer, and got it going alright again (Sigh of relief the size of Asia!), by the time I got back to the pots and burgers, they really had got burnt! But not too much for me, luckily I like them well-done, like this!
I got the plate filled. Took the med’s with me, along with the fodder, Clementine drink, and the light lemon yoghourt.
The potatoes were really not good at all, the crispy bits, when applying the caramelised red onion chutney, were okay. The cheese, well, I might as well have not used it, so weak and tasteless it was. The tomatoes were not too bad. Surprisingly, the burgers were great! I wish I’d got more in now, Humph!
This made me try again to get a delivery slot from Iceland. Nope! The nosh was granted a rating of 5/10, passable, just, thanks to the beefburgers; that I cannot get any more of, the lemon yoghourt and clementine drink. The medications tasted the same as usual, 10/10, Hahaha!
I got the pots washed, and tried purposelessly and unsuccessfully to get some sleep. Morpheous wasn’t having it again! Even the little two-minute nod-offs were absent without leave! Grobbledigrooks!
After hours of trying to nod-off, I perused the TV channel guide, and to my pleasure, unpremeditated serendipitously found that a Red Dwarf extended film was just about to start on the box. Aha, great, one of my favourites and I hadn’t seen this one before! Oh, joy abounded!
I rang Sister Jane to advise her of Red Dwarf about to start on the gogglebox, thinking that xyrophobia-suffering, left a fortune in a will of someone he didn’t know, pools and lottery winner, who retired at 50 years of age and has women chasing him, tall, good looking, well-built, Brother-in-Law Lucky-Pete liked Red Dwarf. It was not an easy conversation, Jane was on the Bollinger Brut Special Cuvée again. Hehehe! I’ll get in trouble for telling of that!
About an hour into the 2-hour Red Dwarf programme, and enjoying it immensely, that damned Morpheous came on, and I missed the rest of the film! Waking up with a start, as the closing credits were scrolling down the screen!
Then, could I get back to sleep again? Nope! I lay there for another couple of hours, Thought-Storms brewing, self-hatred, fears, worries, they all pestered me, before getting to sleep. For three hours!
Life is not a bed of roses!
Friday 10th April 2020
03:30hrs: I came back to imitation life, with my body sat on, as opposed to laying on the £300, second-hand, sickeningly beige-coloured rickety recliner, that my xyrophobia-suffering Brother-in-Law Pete broke when he was flat raiding and stealing my valuables while I was in the hospital. (I must remember to ask him for them back, but I might as well talk to the wall) My feet rested on the serving tray on the floor. Crumbs and bits of bread were stuck to my feet, trapped in the folds of my pharaonically-sized stomach folds, and I even fund some in my right ear-hole! What the deuce had I been doing overnight? What a moyshe kapoyer I am!
As some focus, brain usage and limited concentration came back on-line, memories were triggered. I recollected eating the meal and falling asleep with the tray on my knee last night with the prospect of the much-absent sleep dawning, I drifted off… But by gum, I needed it! I got five hours in. Mind you, how long I spent nocturnally wandering and rearranging things in the room, I don’t know.
I took a rather surprisingly ferocious wee-wee. Then off to the wet room with the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) to be emptied and cleaned and disinfected. I was caught-out again when I needed to use the Porcelain Throne, having been twice yesterday, and needing another. A painful session, and so bloody! So, more cleaning and sanitising were required.
I decided to leave the cleaning up of the bread crumbs until later, when I could use the hoover, without disturbing any neighbours sleep. To the kitchen.
Notwithstanding Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters failing a few times, I took the medications, pain gelled poor old Arthur Itis’s knees and Shaking Shoulder Shirley’s scapular. Olive-oiled, the ear holes, sprayed Saccades eyes. The over-the-counter Haemorrhoid cream was used. The nasal spray used, and the Vaseline was applied to my cracked lips. Then, with gritted teeth; I grabbed and squeezed a clump of my sizeable, flabby dominated stomach area, and stuck the Enoxaparin filled hypo. Pushing in the warm, tingling mixture of Enoxaparin – Formula (C26H40N2O36S5)n: Which is metabolised in the liver into low molecular weight species by either or both desulfation and depolymerisation. I wanted to sound clever here and copied this off of the leaflet that was in the box. Of course, I knew all of this before… Hahaha!
Then made a brew of my beloved Thompson Punjana tea. A warm glow came over me, as I remembered getting the new stock, along with some Glengettie in from Amazon yesterday and now have enough to last me for a good while. A gratifying, and almost exhilarating feeling!
I did try to use the Pill-Splitter again on the large 80 mg Atorvastatin boulder… I mean tablet. But just as when I have tried before, the ‘Splitter’ could not cut it, the blade got bent and distorted when I tried to use it. Most disappointing, I had to imbibe the crushed bits of tablet and powder left, by licking my licking and dabbing my finger to get it. Hahaha! So, I now have a tablet-crusher instead of splitter! Hey-ho!
I got on the computer and soon had the Thursday Inchcock Today updated and finished. Thanks, mainly to Nicodemus, Shirley and Shaun all being so remarkably calm?
I made up a template for this post. And went to make a brew and get some caramelised biscuits to nibble and dunk in the Glengettie tea filled mug. I took the pictures below from the unwanted, thick-framed, light & view-blocking, anti-photographer designed new windows that let the rain in.
This mist lingered on for a few more hours. Then as I got back with the brew, I thought I’d do a search for the Coronavirus updates on the web.
I got an odd feeling as I did so, Sister Janet was coughing? I don’t know where this came from, but it concerned me, and it is too early to call her yet. She is not an early bird. I’m getting the shpilkes about this!
I had a look up at the latest figures for the pandemic on Google. They are here on the right-hand side. They make bleak reading.
The fact that the USA has a population of 328.2 million, and the UK a total of 66.27 million, shows that we are being hit a lot worse?
I am well known for my mathematical incompetence, suffering from Athrithobia and numerophobia (although I am not affected by hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia), and am having difficulty in working this out. I’ll have a go at the calculator.
No, it’s just not there. The mind blanks arrive when I try to figure things out numerically. Humph! Back in my school days, I’d have got the cane, several clouts around the head, or both for not being able to get this worked out. I worked my way through the fear, and at one time, in Tesco in Duckworth Square in Derby, where I was cashing up 24 tills, and dealing with the Green Shield Stamps issue, without a problem. Then the stroke arrived, and since then, I have been struggling back with the phobia! Humph!
I waffled on there again, sorry!
I went on the WordPress reader. Then on CorelDraw, but got a lot of bother with the workings of the programme, and gave up. Did some TFZer Facebooking.
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the pressed door buzzers. Aha! It was an Amazon delivery. I now have stocks of the wonderful Gengettie and Thompsons Punjana tea, Marmite individual pots, pots of porridge, and the bitter-tasty San Benedetto Clementine juice, to last me hopefully all through the rest of the lockdown (I hope).
I’m getting short of places to store things again in the kitchen. The unused bedroom (Junkroom), is getting over-filled again. But I have teabags, some bleach, toilet rolls, bamboo socks, kitchen towels and preciously, a load of PPs (thanks to my mate Michael) in there now! Only the medications need serious attention now. Jenny helped me again with some antiseptic and corticosteroid cream.
I got on the computer again, CorelDraw is really causing me problems, never mind Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters dying-off, bother me as well! Grumph! Had to give up again.
The current situation with Amazon outstanding orders are, I think:
- Friday: Nasal and eye spray.
- Saturday: Another box of 24 Benedetto Clementine drinks might come as well. I looked up Benedetto, expecting it to be an area of Italy. It came out as Blessed, or Saint Benedict of Nursia (480–547), often called the founder of Western Christian monasticism. I don’t know why I bothered telling you that?
- Sunday: Branston Pickle nibbles – Warfarin-Alert Wristbands
- Tuesday: Medical screw-top pots
- Thursday 16th -20th: Trousers. Both of the last two pairs bought from the market have holes in the pockets, the linings have split open or both! I don’t want to go out after such a long time and get accused of flashing. Hehehe!
I received a call from a pleasant-sounding lady from Direct something or other. NCC, as was the man who called yesterday. I was finding it difficult to hear all of the words spoken. And remembering everything is not easy. I thought I’m written something down about it, but cannot find any note? Reflux Roger, and Stuttering Stephanie, along with Deno deafness, all made things difficult for me.
But the lady was very kind and patient. And I’m sure I did much more of the talking than she did. It was so lovely to talk to someone who listened. I told her my life story almost, in between stuttering, gasping for breath and hiccuping. Hahaha! This was the highlight of the day for me. I gave her my blog name, and she said she’d have a look. No actionable help was needed at the moment with the shopping, I thanked her for calling.
Much more verbiage was bantered and shared, but with the state of my memory, it’s not easy to recall. The most annoying thing is there may have been something important to record. Making me more agravannoyed with myself for losing the note I wrote!
I got the meal sorted out. Nothing like I thought it was going to be earlier on. Algerian tomatoes (Crap!), McCains oven chips (Horrible!), Baxter’s beetroots (Bland!), a cheese lump (lousy, insipid), Buttered bread and smoked ham Dry, tasted aged, the butter was greasy?), A shame, I thought I just might be coming down with a cold, and that has affected my taste-buds? Even the apple was crumbly and floury! Saving grace? The apple pies and the can of the tangy, bitter-tasting clementine juice, I liked them! Flavour rating; 4/0. I didn’t eat anywhere near all of it.
I got washing-up done and fleetingly thought of the possibility of my doing the handwashing. (I didn’t!)
Got settled down in the £300, c1968, sickenly beige-coloured, second-hand, not-working, Broken by my xyrophobia-suffering, chaetophorous, anti-epilation Brother-in-Law Pete. At the same time, he was flat-sitting when I was in the Stroke Ward, and stealing all my valuables). With a bottle of spring water, some yoghourt covered cashew nuts, and the GPEWWB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Wee-Wee-Bucket) disinfected and nearby in readiness for later use.
It really was heaven, as the eyelids drooped, with the promise of the rare and resistant sleep, was on its way. But no! I’d forgotten to take the evening medications! Reluctantly, I clambered out of the chair, grabbed the four-pronged stick and hobbled to the medical drawers and got out the medicines. Took the tablets, then, medicines. (No Enoxaparin injections due again now until further notice). Got earholes olive-oiled. Sprayed Saccades-Sandra’s eyes. Nasal sprayed the nose and throat. Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees. Had a gargle of TCP for the sore throat.
Got the Clobetasone Butyrate cream, and went to the wet room to clean up Little Inchies fungal lesion and applied the cream (I usually do this in the WC room, cause my screams of agony cannot be heard and disturb my neighbours with the door shut). This is the second most painful of my medicalisationing sessions.
Occasionally, the Sock-Glide battles can be just as bad. I don’t know who designed these, but obviously, they did not give a thought to anyone with the shakes or dizzy ailments and might be averse to losing finger ends, blood blisters, stubbed toes, and to having lumps of flesh torn from their legs! It may have been Jack the Ripper, or Dr Harold Shipman?
I freshened up and returned to the uncomfortable old recliner, and settled again.
As per regular nightly, the Thought-Storms began, and during this session. I wondered if I left the tap on in the bathroom or even the sink? It was ghost-like, weary, frustrated Inchcock, who somehow or other, forced his elephantine stomached body up on its feet again and limped to check on the taps, lights, stove etc. top make sure all was safe. I don’t think this is an Obsessive-compulsive disorder OCD. It seems to be from my lack-of-confidence base? There must be a word for it. Anyway, all was okay. I got another bottle of spring water and returned to the, that by now, seems to be laughing at me, recliner. Hahaha!
The lighter nights, crap on the TV, and my unsettled state of mind were all preventing my nodding off! I lay for hours, I even considered counting sheep!
All the tossing about and moving trying to get in a comfortable position to encourage sweet Morpheus to take over my body and mind; must have cracked open Little Inchies fungal lesion! For I felt the warm wet trickle from the lower regions. Again, crying was an option, but anger was a stronger emotion! Why me?
Yet again, I got up, trying to keep calm and not have a tumble or bang into any furniture or door frames, off I poddled, chin-low, bottom lip wobbling and feeling sorry for myself! I got in the wet room and went through the usual dreaded medicationalisationing procedure. The pain didn’t seem so bad this time, that was because the leaf had not had time to harden, I assume. This actually took my Fed-Up-Defcon from2, down top Defcon3! Hehe!
Now, as I was going into the hall, I think I had a bit of good luck! (Yes, it can happen, it did in 1952 as I recall). I caught the right middle toe, stubbed against the bar of the clothes airer – and felt nothing! Obviously, this may be part of the reason that the cleaning and medication of the lesion, was far less painful, Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were obviously not working! And this warned me to take extra care when touching anything solid or hard, and not rely on getting any sensation or feedback! Thus, I was going to make a brew of tea, but I stopped my plans. Who knows for sure, nobody, but it may have stopped me getting scolded!
Of course, it did nothing to help me get to sleep! I carefully made my way back to the imagined grinning at me now, recliner. I put the TV on, and to my greatest pleasure, Red Dwarf was just starting! Then I found out another episode was following. No problem with staying awake tonight. Old seen-before ones, of course, but I so enjoyed watching them.
It must have been around 02:00hrs when I had to get up to use the wee-bucket. Accident-free, I got back in the chair and fell asleep! And had a dream-ridden kip for three-hours or so. Every little help’s! It was well-gone 0500hrs by then.
I can get depressed, you know. Humph!
Thursday 9th April 2020
Welsh: Dydd Iau 9fed Ebrill 2020
04:00hrs (The latest getting up time for months): I stirred and waited for the brain to catch me up. Which it failed to do in time apparently. Cause as I began to manipulate my grossly overweight-stomached body from the recliner, ‘Thud-thud’, I ended up on my knees! Fell off of the c1968, rickety recliner, knocking the swivel chair over to the cabinet as I did so. Which sent the nibble pots off of the arm and rolling all over the floor. The knees were stinging, caught my head against the other chair arm as I twisted in a vain effort to stop myself going down, and a few selected naughty words were silently muttered! (I hope they were silent, anyway) I crawled on all fours to gather the nibble-pots, the yoghourt coated cashew nuts thankfully, didn’t burst open! Phew!
I tackled the job of struggling to get back up, in an almost nonchalantly, blasé, laid-back manner, and I was seated back in the recliner again within a minute or two! Yes, I know, it surprised and shook me too!) I stayed there to receive a brain-storm for a few moments. Not the usual self-recrimination, hatred, and confusion this time. I merely accepted the incident, felt thankful that it was not worse, and got the taste for a mug of tea! (Honestly!)
When I got in the kitchen, I spotted the moon was out again. But, being so much later than yesterday, it was more distant and further to my left.
I tried my best to get the lights below in the shot I took. I took me about five efforts, this was the only decent one out of them all!
I found a certain degree of, well, almost confidence creeping in this morning as I made the brew. I was singing to myself and whistling in between? I’d coped with the earlier Whoopsiedangleplop and Accifauxpas with no bother. I was feeling upbeat, and this worried me a tad!
My EQ told me that things were going to get hectic. No reasons or outcomes. Just things were going to get frantic, and soon! A shudder went through my body, and I foolishly ignored this warning and carried on singing to myself, as I took the medications, and took the tea with me to the computer. I did feel what must have been close to contentment and relaxed with it! This is not natural for me!
My first job was to make up the template for today’s blog, which took a long time. Thanks to Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters going off and on-line at will. Got it done, and checked online for the virus figures. Not very good.
Then looked at the Emails, and sure enough, an Iceland order was arriving today, twixt 15>1700hrs!
I decided to get the ablutions done next, as with my getting to a semi-live state, so late, it was now gone eight! (No charge for the poetry. Hehe!). I put a long-sleeved t-shirt and pair of socks to soak while I got the shave and stand-up wash. Off to the wet room.
As I got in the doorway, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived, it couldn’t have come at a better time! But it was again a start-stop operation.
Which let me have another go at the crossword puzzle solving. I got a few as well!
When things started moving again, just like yesterday, it was ‘Klunk’ and all over and done with. Apart from the cleaning up, of course. No medicating, not with me about to have the stand-up wash and shave. The doing of the teeth, ave just one dropsy, the toothpaste. No cut gums this morning. The shaving was a little more accident-prone, though. Dropsies included: Shaving foam can (2), razors (6), and the after-shave bottle that I was using to stop the (3) cuts bleeding. However, no toe stubbings, and the sock-glide, I laughed at! (I didn’t put any socks on, Hehehe!) Most of the dropsies were caused me Nicodemus’s failing nerve ends.
Medicated the areas in need, olive-oiled the ear holes, Saccades sprayed the eyes, got the Brute and deodorant applied. One blessing here was that Little Inchies fungal lesion had only bled a tiny bit. Ah, nice!
But I still felt in a perky mood! I dried off and got dressed, all bar the socks, and went to get the handwashing done, wrung and hung. For some reason, the ones I did yesterday still needed more drying time?
You can see in this photograph, the diamond strengthed leakage from the air-vent, that the Nottingham City Homes maintenance man left me with on the wall years ago now. And it ran down and hardened all over the electrical socket! It still pees me off when I see it every day.
I got the black bags sorted, replaced the bags in the waste-baskets (4), and took the full ones to the waste chute.
I spotted the new to me, but it would be, my not having been out for so long, a sign asking for only one person in the lift cage at any time.
When I returned to the apartment, I thought I make another brew, and try to drink it this time. I took another Co-codamol that a mystery resident had so kindly given me, to counter the toothache I felt coming on again.
There are plenty of aircraft/jets out today. How do they keep to social-spacing in them, then?
Back to the computer, I’ll get the thing started eventually, Humph!
♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. Looks like my EQ was right, doesn’t it?
It was Riechsfhúreress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana. She was handing out Easter Eggs from the Nottingham City Homes, for everyone. Bless em!
I got back to the computer, and sat a moment, wondering if using it would bring another interruption. Just as the now even more familiar, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out again. It was caretaker Robert, with a big bottle of milk and a loaf of bread for me! I thanked him muchly for the loaf and explained that I have plenty of milk in at the moment. Slipped him a G & T in thanks.
Back to the computer, I typed maybe five words, and the landline flashed and rang-out! It was a chap, this time from the Ingeus Diabetic course runners. He went through all what the lady did yesterday. Nothing really sank in, the line was that bad and with my hearing, Tsk!
At last, I made a start on this blog. For about five minutes, and the landline flashed again!!! It was the man from Direct Help. I explained that is was a fortnight ago when I spoke with the lady, and things have improved since. As I have got through for an Iceland order delivered since! With the help of Jenny, I have some stuff arriving Sunday, I think, that will hopefully fill the fridge and freezer up. So there is no requirement for help now, there was three weeks ago, but no one called as expected. So, I should be fine for a while. I told him of my five-week wait for the Morrison order, that’s due a week on Sunday! He told me to ring him back in a fortnight if I needed any help with shopping then. I asked him for the telephone number. He seemed surprised that I didn’t have it on my phone. He gave it to me, anyway.
On the computer, once more. And the intercom flashed! It was the Iceland delivery that I can’t remember ordering!
Now, my friendly, warm, upbeat mood was changing.
I got yesterday’s blog sent off, and made yet another attempt as doing this update. Guess what? The landline lit up and sounded again!
It was the cat-walk model and Warden Oberstgruppenfhúreress Deana. She had some questions that needed answering for Nottingham City Homes. I don’t know how the ILC’s (Independent Living Coordinators) are managing with all the extra duties and hassle they have to put up with, Bless em all! I got myself very confused, and being so tired again, things weren’t sinking in, well they were, but not staying in the memory bank!
I got back to the computing, and the dreaded, feared, damp, and warm sensation spreading about in the lower regions was sensed! Botherations and blasticulisations! Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding! So, off to the wet room again, for cleaning and medicationalising.
The task was more manageable and less painful than I expected, for it had not dried on, much less hassle! I had a wash afterwards and noticed that the old ankle scar looked like it wanted to return again. (Dangwangling, Dangwangles!)
I gave the hands another really weep clean. So much so, the yare getting all wrinkly again. Tsk!
And, how can I get some more carbolic soap? It was hard enough to get before the lock-down and self-imprisonment! (Gribbledockends!)
I went to make a brew, and I noticed a man and his dog down on the bottom field. It was different, and funny this time!
The man threw something, a ball I imagine, but this dog was not having it at all! The hound plopped itself down on the grass, with no intention of moving! Hahaha! The chap could not get the animal to move at all. He got his mobile out and made a call. I wondered if he was walking the dog for someone, and calling for advice? A few possible funny scenarios went through my head.
Then, ♫ I only want to be with you ♫ rang out from the door, again. Unbelievable! It was a delivery man, I didn’t see him of course. But there was mail been delivered, and a box on the floor.
The reading of a letter, pretend signed, by Boris, while the poor bloke is suffering in the intensive-care ward, was a strange thing. To me, anyway. Good and bad news from the blood results. Good, in that with it being Bank Holiday, they always leave the next test for longer. This time, it is not until the 21st of April. Which means, my Blood Vampire Angels will not be seen until then! Sob, Ululations, & Woe is me!
Finally, I got this post done as far as here. It only took me fourteen hours, as well. Humph!
At last, I got the Iceland order looked at properly. Their offer of two boxes of Gold corn flakes at £1 off for two, I had apparently taken advantage off. I vaguely recall thinking that if Jenny didn’t want them, she would know of someone who would, Nora perhaps? I gathered the things and bagged them, then called Jenny, to tell her I would drop the bag off at her apartment, in a few minutes. Which I did. It felt odd, after such a long time, to use the lift again, almost scary! Haha! If Jenny does not want anything in the bag at all, it won’t matter, cause I know she’ll soon have some worthy person to give the milk, Cereals etc. to, who deserves a bit of help.
Back up to my flat, didn’t anyone out in the building at all going either way. It felt so eerie, and reminded me of my recurrent dream of being chased and shot at in a crumbling building, by gangs of unpleasant persons.
I took a picture of a panorama shot of the scene outside.
A man and his dog, sensibly kept their distance from the two young girls in the bottom field, as it looked like they were asking for directions.
I’m feeling weary now, but the toothache is no worse, the coughing has eased, and my mood was getting back to a good one.
Fodder decision time now. I chose to have bacon sarnies. Mainly to use some of the crap, watery, tasteless bacon I’d got! Tsk! I might have a tin of tomatoes with it instead, then use the bread to dunk with. Or something else? Hahaha!
I’ll be back in the morning to finish this blog off, I hope.
I ended up making Halloumi cheese sticks and bacon in the same oven tray. I made up bacon sandwiches, caramelised chutney, an apple and some lemon Vienna cakes. And a can of the delightfully tangy Clementine juice.
The halloumi was okay, and the bacon was much better than yesterday’s offering. This is because I took Tim Price’s advice and poured the hickory over the bacon as it cooked, and as a result, it tasted a lot better. Flavour rating: 7/10.
I didn’t even get to do the washing up, I fell asleep with the tray on my knee. I woke hours later, with the tray on the floor and my humungous body half out of the recliner.
I thought about picking up the dish, plate and crumbs… Zzzz!